mrvette
Phantom of the Opera
back about '66 or so I met up with a guy I knew breifly in '62 summer school as we needed make up English class in order to graduate HS....I flunked all 4 years of HS English on account of the liberal bitches teaching the topic would have out bored a barn....
at any rate....this guy turns out to be a mass murderer in the making...this following cut/paste is from my very old friend of the times, Bill is the man tho introduced us we were ALL hotrodders, and Bill had a '58-62 bastardized vette, when I had my first car, a '60......we had gottn reaquainted by chance encounter at a chebby dealer in '66....
so here is the note, and it's a bit long story....
if any interest, I can answer any questions....as many gaps are in the story...but it's complicated going back many years and some generations....
this note is in response to a womans inquiry about William Dean Christiansen...
the mass murderer....
Gene, you can forward this to the lady. Just cut out any references to my e-mail names and addresses.
I first met Bill in 1959 when we were 15 years old. My only memory of him at that time was that he seemed to be under his parents’ thumb because he was expected to be home for dinner at a particular time and he clearly intended to obey. I saw him just two or three times that year, and no friendship developed.
I next bumped into him in the fall of 1962 when we were freshmen at Montgomery Junior College, located in Takoma Park, Maryland. Bill had become highly involved in cars -- as had I -- and it was the automotive world that drew us together as friends.
The first few years went well, with no sign of trouble from Bill; however, things started going downhill in 1966 when he suddenly announced that a Corvette removable hardtop that he had previously sold to me was stolen. Things got worse later in the fall of that year when he drove me out to some woods in Potomac, MD and showed me a 1958 Corvette that he had stolen and stripped. At this point, I started backing away from our friendship quite a bit.
It was an event in September of 1967 that caused me to terminate the friendship. We had gone to a party in an apartment building on Naylor Road in Prince George’s County, MD. As the party was winding down, he asked for my car keys, stating that he would meet me downstairs in just few minutes. I left the party perhaps five minutes later, but no Bill. He never did show up with my car, and I was forced to bum a ride home from our host. Needless to say, I was furious. However, I would become even angrier when I eventually learned that he had used my car to steal some bucket seats from a Corvette that had been parked a few blocks from the party. Once I had my car back, I brought the friendship to a halt and did not see or otherwise communicate with Bill for several years.
It probably was in the latter part of 1971 that I bumped into Bill again. Needless to say, I was quite leery and on guard, and my suspicions were justified in a fairly short period of time. It soon became evident that his tendencies toward illegal activity had not waned (although I don’t recall specific incidents anymore), and I terminated the friendship for a second and final time after just a couple of months.
It wasn’t until the spring of 1976 that Bill’s name would appear again. I well remember being in a federal law library on Constitution Avenue in Washington, DC, studying during my last year of law school. I was thumbing through some Maryland appellate cases when I came across “Christiansen –v- State”. Somehow I immediately knew that it had to be Bill. Sure enough, it was Bill appealing a rape conviction that had probably occurred in 1972 or 1973. As I read through the case, I was amazed to learn that Bill had gone to prison for 18 months in the 1968-1970 era for severely beating his wife. During our brief rekindling of friendship in 1971, neither he nor his parents had said a word to me about any prior criminal activity or punishment.
While most of us had started dating by the time we were 15, I have no recollection of Bill expressing any particular interest in girls while we were teenagers. Even when we reached our twenties, Bill appeared neutral. Nevertheless, at some point in 1966 Bill became involved with a young Catholic girl who was probably only 17 or 18. Bill got her pregnant and supposedly married her. They lived together as husband and wife with his parents on East-West Highway in Bethesda, MD. I have a very vague memory of helping them move her to an apartment in Rockville, MD when they split up. This would have had to be around the time I terminated Bill’s friendship in the fall of 1967. I want to say that the girl’s first name was Linda and that the child was a female born in the spring or summer of 1967. I have no idea what the wife’s maiden name might have been. As I recall, she grew up in North Bethesda (Maryland) and lived at the SE corner of Grosvenor Lane and Fleming Avenue or Edwards Avenue or Dickens Avenue.
My final communication with Bill would have occurred during the time that he was brought back to Montgomery County, MD to stand trial for a rape that had been committed a number of years earlier. My guess is that the trial was held in 1988. He got hold of me while he was being held at the county jail, and we conversed on several occasions. I considered dropping by the jail to visit, but eventually thought better of it. After the trial was concluded and Bill was convicted, he was returned to PA and I never heard from him again.
A few observations: Few of us have been so fortunate as to have been born with Bill’s genius. There is no question in my mind that his IQ was well above 140 -- hardly surprising considering that his father graduated from Harvard Law School in the top of his class and was a member of the Harvard Law Review. The father was an Air Force full col., although there is no way of knowing if this title might have been a sham to protect his real identity, which was that of being a high-ranking CIA official who was in charge of all internal security at the “company”. Bill said that his father worked at the Navy Yard as an attorney, but the CIA involvement was never revealed until the father’s retirement. Since there is a building at the Washington Navy Yard that is CIA (building 213), things start to fall into place.
In addition to his intelligence, Bill was also very fortunate to be brought up in a very well-to-do community that prized higher education. His parents were clearly prepared to spend large sums of money on his education, and he could have gone far in academia, had he so chosen. It is absolutely tragic that he threw away fabulous possibilities that only a small select group of Americans is fortunate to partake of. There are countless millions of young adults who would have given their right arm to have had his brains, his parents, and his opportunities.
Although Bill had a great love of cars, he had absolutely no mechanical aptitude or ability to repair anything. Consequently, every one of them eventually died in his father’s front yard with its hood up and its tires flat. Bill collected weird stuff, including four Edsels, one of which he actually raced at local drag strips. His bedroom was a pigsty with papers two and three inches thick covering the entire floor.
Bill had a much older sister whom I met only once around 1967. I have no idea as to her married name or geographic location. She is probably at least ten years older than Bill.
Bill’s parents were of widely divergent religions; I want to say that the mother was Roman Catholic and the father was Mormon. I should think that it must have been the Catholic background that would have caused the parents to send Bill to the Catholic high school Good Council in Wheaton, MD where he graduated in 1962.
Although Bill’s behavior as a driver got worse and worse, perhaps bordering on the reckless, he never exhibited any violent tendencies toward people during the 1962-1967 period of our friendship. He never lost his temper in my presence, nor did he verbally threaten anyone at any time. He had a good sense of humor and was quite capable of laughing at himself. Bill never seemed to be brooding or plotting revenge. He never showed any interest in weapons of any description, such as knives and firearms. Consequently, it was particularly shocking to learn that he had apparently beaten his wife to the point that the courts sent him to prison for a year and a half. While prison sentences for spousal abuse are common in the 21st century, such was not the case forty years ago. Back in the 1960s, a wife was typically subjected to near-death savagery before the police and courts would step in.
Posted here in a more civilized group, the initial contact with ME was done through the DC forum....talk about an off the wall email, that's one....
bad enough having any knowledge about Bill C. but to get an email some 45 years later it's as if ghosts never rest....
:bonkers::flash:
at any rate....this guy turns out to be a mass murderer in the making...this following cut/paste is from my very old friend of the times, Bill is the man tho introduced us we were ALL hotrodders, and Bill had a '58-62 bastardized vette, when I had my first car, a '60......we had gottn reaquainted by chance encounter at a chebby dealer in '66....
so here is the note, and it's a bit long story....
if any interest, I can answer any questions....as many gaps are in the story...but it's complicated going back many years and some generations....
this note is in response to a womans inquiry about William Dean Christiansen...
the mass murderer....
Gene, you can forward this to the lady. Just cut out any references to my e-mail names and addresses.
I first met Bill in 1959 when we were 15 years old. My only memory of him at that time was that he seemed to be under his parents’ thumb because he was expected to be home for dinner at a particular time and he clearly intended to obey. I saw him just two or three times that year, and no friendship developed.
I next bumped into him in the fall of 1962 when we were freshmen at Montgomery Junior College, located in Takoma Park, Maryland. Bill had become highly involved in cars -- as had I -- and it was the automotive world that drew us together as friends.
The first few years went well, with no sign of trouble from Bill; however, things started going downhill in 1966 when he suddenly announced that a Corvette removable hardtop that he had previously sold to me was stolen. Things got worse later in the fall of that year when he drove me out to some woods in Potomac, MD and showed me a 1958 Corvette that he had stolen and stripped. At this point, I started backing away from our friendship quite a bit.
It was an event in September of 1967 that caused me to terminate the friendship. We had gone to a party in an apartment building on Naylor Road in Prince George’s County, MD. As the party was winding down, he asked for my car keys, stating that he would meet me downstairs in just few minutes. I left the party perhaps five minutes later, but no Bill. He never did show up with my car, and I was forced to bum a ride home from our host. Needless to say, I was furious. However, I would become even angrier when I eventually learned that he had used my car to steal some bucket seats from a Corvette that had been parked a few blocks from the party. Once I had my car back, I brought the friendship to a halt and did not see or otherwise communicate with Bill for several years.
It probably was in the latter part of 1971 that I bumped into Bill again. Needless to say, I was quite leery and on guard, and my suspicions were justified in a fairly short period of time. It soon became evident that his tendencies toward illegal activity had not waned (although I don’t recall specific incidents anymore), and I terminated the friendship for a second and final time after just a couple of months.
It wasn’t until the spring of 1976 that Bill’s name would appear again. I well remember being in a federal law library on Constitution Avenue in Washington, DC, studying during my last year of law school. I was thumbing through some Maryland appellate cases when I came across “Christiansen –v- State”. Somehow I immediately knew that it had to be Bill. Sure enough, it was Bill appealing a rape conviction that had probably occurred in 1972 or 1973. As I read through the case, I was amazed to learn that Bill had gone to prison for 18 months in the 1968-1970 era for severely beating his wife. During our brief rekindling of friendship in 1971, neither he nor his parents had said a word to me about any prior criminal activity or punishment.
While most of us had started dating by the time we were 15, I have no recollection of Bill expressing any particular interest in girls while we were teenagers. Even when we reached our twenties, Bill appeared neutral. Nevertheless, at some point in 1966 Bill became involved with a young Catholic girl who was probably only 17 or 18. Bill got her pregnant and supposedly married her. They lived together as husband and wife with his parents on East-West Highway in Bethesda, MD. I have a very vague memory of helping them move her to an apartment in Rockville, MD when they split up. This would have had to be around the time I terminated Bill’s friendship in the fall of 1967. I want to say that the girl’s first name was Linda and that the child was a female born in the spring or summer of 1967. I have no idea what the wife’s maiden name might have been. As I recall, she grew up in North Bethesda (Maryland) and lived at the SE corner of Grosvenor Lane and Fleming Avenue or Edwards Avenue or Dickens Avenue.
My final communication with Bill would have occurred during the time that he was brought back to Montgomery County, MD to stand trial for a rape that had been committed a number of years earlier. My guess is that the trial was held in 1988. He got hold of me while he was being held at the county jail, and we conversed on several occasions. I considered dropping by the jail to visit, but eventually thought better of it. After the trial was concluded and Bill was convicted, he was returned to PA and I never heard from him again.
A few observations: Few of us have been so fortunate as to have been born with Bill’s genius. There is no question in my mind that his IQ was well above 140 -- hardly surprising considering that his father graduated from Harvard Law School in the top of his class and was a member of the Harvard Law Review. The father was an Air Force full col., although there is no way of knowing if this title might have been a sham to protect his real identity, which was that of being a high-ranking CIA official who was in charge of all internal security at the “company”. Bill said that his father worked at the Navy Yard as an attorney, but the CIA involvement was never revealed until the father’s retirement. Since there is a building at the Washington Navy Yard that is CIA (building 213), things start to fall into place.
In addition to his intelligence, Bill was also very fortunate to be brought up in a very well-to-do community that prized higher education. His parents were clearly prepared to spend large sums of money on his education, and he could have gone far in academia, had he so chosen. It is absolutely tragic that he threw away fabulous possibilities that only a small select group of Americans is fortunate to partake of. There are countless millions of young adults who would have given their right arm to have had his brains, his parents, and his opportunities.
Although Bill had a great love of cars, he had absolutely no mechanical aptitude or ability to repair anything. Consequently, every one of them eventually died in his father’s front yard with its hood up and its tires flat. Bill collected weird stuff, including four Edsels, one of which he actually raced at local drag strips. His bedroom was a pigsty with papers two and three inches thick covering the entire floor.
Bill had a much older sister whom I met only once around 1967. I have no idea as to her married name or geographic location. She is probably at least ten years older than Bill.
Bill’s parents were of widely divergent religions; I want to say that the mother was Roman Catholic and the father was Mormon. I should think that it must have been the Catholic background that would have caused the parents to send Bill to the Catholic high school Good Council in Wheaton, MD where he graduated in 1962.
Although Bill’s behavior as a driver got worse and worse, perhaps bordering on the reckless, he never exhibited any violent tendencies toward people during the 1962-1967 period of our friendship. He never lost his temper in my presence, nor did he verbally threaten anyone at any time. He had a good sense of humor and was quite capable of laughing at himself. Bill never seemed to be brooding or plotting revenge. He never showed any interest in weapons of any description, such as knives and firearms. Consequently, it was particularly shocking to learn that he had apparently beaten his wife to the point that the courts sent him to prison for a year and a half. While prison sentences for spousal abuse are common in the 21st century, such was not the case forty years ago. Back in the 1960s, a wife was typically subjected to near-death savagery before the police and courts would step in.
Posted here in a more civilized group, the initial contact with ME was done through the DC forum....talk about an off the wall email, that's one....
bad enough having any knowledge about Bill C. but to get an email some 45 years later it's as if ghosts never rest....
:bonkers::flash:
:hissyfit::nuts:
I could understand him wanting to kill the ENGINE, but well, some shit is just too deep to understand.....so I suppose to search this site for the thread indicated above......:surrender:
