Connections, coincidences and memories
Countless news stories told of the drama behind Brian Dugan's death sentence for killing Jeanine Nicarico.
The 10-year-old Naperville girl's tragic end is well-known. She was abducted Feb. 25, 1983, after staying home sick from school with the flu.
Still, there are so many other parts of the sad saga, ranging from eerie to odd to uplifting, that are far less known. Here are a few:
A tragic link: Naperville old-timers still remember Julie Ann Hanson.
The pretty 15-year-old girl was about to begin her junior year at Naperville North High School in summer 1972. She sang in the choir, twirled a baton, and led Sunday school class at church.
One day, Julie left home on her bike and wasn't seen alive again. She was abducted, raped and stabbed some 36 times. Her body was discovered one day later in a cornfield near 87th Street and Modaff Road.
Back then, residents were starting to witness a growth boom that irrevocably changed the city of 25,000 - now almost six times that size. At the time, it still had that small-town feel. Many left doors unlocked.
That is, until word spread about Julie. Police never nabbed her killer, but a convicted murderer serving a 200-year prison term for a similar Will County slaying long has been the main suspect.
Julie vanished July 7, 1972 - the same day Jeanine Nicarico was born.
The serial-killer connection: The names of John Wayne Gacy, Richard Speck and Ted Bundy arose during Dugan's sentencing hearing.
A prosecution witness who interviewed Dugan in 1986 as part of a study on sex offenders said Speck also took part in his research. Speck killed eight Chicago student nurses in 1966.
A defense expert, Kent Kiehl, who testified Dugan has a brain deficit similar to other psychopaths he's studied, grew up in Tacoma, Wash., near Bundy's boyhood home.
Bundy killed dozens of women before his 1989 execution. Kiehl said his early fascination with Bundy steered him toward the field of neuroscience.
As for Gacy, Dugan said he believes the serial killer molested him in his early teens around 1972 when he accepted a ride from the stranger in Lisle.
It wasn't until later that Dugan said he made the connection after seeing Gacy's face on television in the late 1970s, when he confessed to the murders of 33 young men, most of whom he buried in a crawl space under the floorboards of his house near Des Plaines.
Gacy was executed in 1994, but not before he spent time being housed on death row near Rolando Cruz - exonerated in Jeanine's death in 1995.
Later, when seven DuPage County law enforcement officials were accused of framing Cruz, the special prosecutor who investigated the case was Bill Kunkle. Kunkle prosecuted Gacy.
One of the men Kunkle called upon during that prosecution was Dr. James Cavanaugh, who found Gacy sane.
Cavanaugh also testified for the Dugan defense team.
He feels their pain: One cop who helped bring Dugan's life of crime to an end was Joseph Heinrich, a former Geneva sergeant detective who testified at the sentencing hearing.
Heinrich knows too well the devastation crime brings. His sister, Jo Ellen Pueschel, and her husband, Dean, were fatally beaten in their Rogers Park home Aug. 29, 1983 - six months after Jeanine died.
The couple's 11-year-old son, Rick, survived after being stabbed and beaten with his own baseball bat. The assailants, two brothers, are serving life prison terms.
Similar to his uncle, Rick grew up to be a decorated cop.
Honoring Jeanine: She struggled with reading until a fourth-grade teacher began incorporating the child's love of horses into their lessons.
After Jeanine's death, her family and teachers started a memorial literacy fund to support local reading programs. It's a way to celebrate her life, they say, rather than dwell on her death.
Today, more than $100,000 has been raised in Jeanine's memory. Some 400 runners and walkers take part in an annual 5K to support the fund. The 2010 event is May 16.
To learn more, go to nicaricoliteracyfund.org.
Their little angel: A beautiful image of Jeanine stands out among all the violence.
Jeanine's oldest sister, Chris, shared it with jurors. She told of happy times as the three sisters rode their bikes, climbed trees, played kick-the-can, or how Jeanine wriggled her way into her sisters' beds at night.
She also recalled Jeanine's response as their father heeled the sailboat way over to one side. The rest of them nervously held on tight, waiting for the boat to level off.
Not Jeanine. She loved every minute of it.
Her fifth-grade class portrait is a head-on shot with an overlaid profile in the background.
Her mom, Pat, never liked that type of photograph. It reminded her of a ghost.
"Promise me you won't be mad at me," Jeanine said when Pat walked in the door.
Two days later, Jeanine disappeared.
"Jeanine's smile and contagious giggle seemed to come through in every situation," Chris Nicarico said. "Her smile is unforgettable and forever in our minds."
•Legal Affairs Writer Christy Gutowski has covered the Jeanine Nicarico case since 1999.