I want to start off by saying that this story is 100% true and that I have linked an article pertaining to the case at the end.
   Back in 2011, my family and I went to visit a family friend, Mike, at his trailer out in the middle of nowhere in Alaska. It was during summer, so the weather was quite nice and sunny – no snow to speak of. I was around fourteen at the time and I remember being particularly excited because Mike had a few ATV four-wheelers that my siblings and I would get to drive around to explore the expanse of land.
   We met his son, Blair, who was a little older than my brother, sister and I at the time. Maybe in his early twenties. He seemed decent, though back then I remember thinking that I wouldn’t want to hang out with him if not for my brother and sister being there with me. We all hopped on our ATVs and drove out to explore the land, weaving through the forest and out onto dirt paths. He lead us up a very steep hill, but I felt anxious because when I say steep hill, I mean steep hill. I thought my ATV would flip backside over at any given moment. But we made it to the base of the hill and I remember heaving a sigh of relief.
   Blair took us to a small ice cream shop nearby and bought us all milkshakes. After this, I started to relax around him. After the milkshakes, we met his friend at a basketball court. Trevor – a skinny, tattooed shirtless man. Drug-dealer by the looks of it. There was graffiti covering every inch of the walls surrounding the court, most of it saying things like “Trevor sucks dick for gas money” and other degrading things about him. At this point, in the company of this other friend, I started to feel a bit nervous. Luckily though, we ended up leaving a few minutes later and I relaxed as we returned to exploring on our ATVs. And the day ended with us returning back to Mike’s trailer and roasting dinner over the campfire.
   Everything was great and, aside from Blair’s weird choice in friends, I thoroughly enjoyed the trip. We went home later that night.
   Then… A few weeks later, we saw Mike on the news. Blair, his son, had killed him and stuffed his body under a trailer. It was reported that Mike had been stabbed several times in the chest and that Blair took a picture of his dead father and sent it to a family member, who then contacted the police. When my father told me about what had happened, I felt a shiver run down my spine. Blair was a murderer. I couldn’t believe my young siblings and I had spent an entire day with a to-be killer, laughing and enjoying ourselves. Not knowing who this kid would turn out to be.

Fishing with a serial killer

This story didn’t happen to me, it happened to my father when he was in high school in the late 70’s. He was, and still is, an avid fisher, hunter, hiker, etc. At the time this took place, he was ice fishing with a few close friends at a lake in southern Wisconsin. Every time he recounts this story to me, he get this look of disgust on his face, less like he remembers the fear, and more like he’s ready throw up at the thought it. The rest will be from his perspective.

We were out on the lake, it was cold. A few of the guys just walked back to the car to get some things, and it was just me Bruno. We were minding our own business when this older man walked out of the woods. He was sort of chubby, and big, and he had a creepy smile. We didn’t think anything of it, we were raised to be polite, so we struck up a conversation.

He said he’d been fishing too, and wasn’t catching much. He asked if we wanted a drink, said he had some at his camp. We told him we had our own and we were okay.

Then he asked us if he could hang out with us a bit longer. We thought it was odd, especially because he was so much older than us, and he was alone. He continued to talk to us, and even drank some of our beer. Then he asked if we’d come over for dinner at his place. This is where red flags popped up. We turned him down, told him we had plans, and eventually he left. All this took place when there were only two of us on the lake.

I would have forgotten the whole thing. He was just another strange creepy older man, who needed someone to talk to. Until a few months later when I saw him on the news. He was the Killer Clown, according to the news report. None other than John Wayne Gacy. Thinking back on it now, I’d hate to imagine what he would’ve done if we’d taken him up on his offer. I’m just glad he rotted in jail.


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