advertisement

Constable: A year after Gliniewicz, Fox Lake endures

The ripples moving toward Fox Lake's shore might have been caused by the green-headed mallard and its mate. Or by the squawking, white seagull. But the waves quickly dissipate, leaving Fox Lake looking the same as it did before the disturbance.

“Fox Lake is always Fox Lake,” says John Carol, 59, who sits at a picnic table at Lakefront Park.

“Be careful!” he yells as granddaughter Abby, 4, shinnies up a climbing wall on the playground.

Life in Fox Lake today, Carol says, is the same on the surface as it was before the shocking news broke on Tuesday morning, Sept. 1, 2015, that Fox Lake Police Lt. Charles Joseph Gliniewicz - a bigger-than-life character in town - had been shot to death after radioing that he was pursuing three men at an industrial site.

That day, squadrons of heavily armed officers prowled backyards as helicopters flew low in a massive dragnet to find the killers. In a nation struggling with instances of violence by and against police, the “hero” officer's slaying drew relentless news coverage.

But that storyline couldn't hold water. After two months and thousands of hours of detective work, investigators concluded Gliniewicz, 52, staged his suicide to look like murder in the face of evidence he'd been stealing money from the youth club he led. Old stories surfaced of Gliniewicz's drunken nights, his punishment for sexually forcing himself on a female co-worker and other behavior that shocked people who knew him only as “Lt. G.I. Joe,” the tireless Scout leader of Fox Lake Explorer Post 300.

As summer turned to fall, Fox Lake transformed from a fishing and boating hamlet to a crime scene to a town tainted by Gliniewicz's betrayal. While the town works to reclaim its reputation for recreation, the ripples created by Gliniewicz's death might not be visible, but folks remember.

  A helicopter hovers above a gun-toting police officer in Fox Lake during a massive manhunt in response to the Sept. 1, 2015, death of Fox Lake police Lt. Charles Joseph Gliniewicz. Staged to look like a murder, Gliniewicz's death later was ruled a suicide. Brian Hill/bhill@dailyherald.com, 2015

“That night, we locked the doors. It was so surreal with the police and helicopters,” recalls Dan Stang, who has lived in the area for all his 53 years and says it's difficult now to imagine that fear.

“We even had police officers escort us to our cars,” says his daughter Grace, 13, who can't forget how officials closed St. Bede School the day of the shooting.

The zing of her fishing line transports Grace and her dad back to today - a dad and his daughter capturing one more summer memory.

Last Labor Day, Stang and his wife, Paula, Grace and her older sister, Sarah, were standing in the blistering sun for five hours, watching a parade of police cars as officers from around the nation paid final respects to Gliniewicz.

  Saluting, holding handmade signs for "G.I. Joe" or placing their hands over their hearts, spectators greet the processional after funeral services for Fox Lake police Lt. Charles Joseph Gliniewicz. Many of the tributes around Fox Lake were vandalized after an investigation revealed Gliniewicz hadn't been gunned down in the line of duty, but took his own life in the face of evidence that he had been stealing money. Patrick Kunzer/pkunzer@dailyherald.com, 2015

“We'd see the cars and say, 'This guy's from California. This guy's from Tennessee,'” remembers Stang, a supervisor for a sheet metal company in Des Plaines. “You didn't want to believe it happened. When you found out what really happened, it was so bad.”

Vietnam veteran Bill Wolf, 71, a past commander of VFW Post 981 in Wheeling, stood in Lakefront Park a year ago to hear speeches about Gliniewicz's police work and salute the slain officer's Army career. Now, sitting on a bench in that same park with another veteran, Wolf can't help but think about Gliniewicz's betrayal.

“It disgraced the veterans and disgraced the police department,” Wolf says.

Wolf, who spent part of 1966 and '67 fighting in Vietnam, says people who make mistakes need to take responsibility right away. “If you don't ante up, it gets worse,” he says.

“You lick your wounds and move on,” concurs Bob Nordmeyer, who runs Ben Watts Marina with his wife, Debbie, the original owner's granddaughter. It took time to process Gliniewicz's fall from grace.

  A staple at most functions in town, Fox Lake Police Department Lt. Charles Joseph Gliniewicz scans the crowd at the 2015 Fox Lake Cardboard Cup Races at Lakefront Park. Two weeks later, Gliniewicz was dead and the park would be home to a massive vigil in his honor. John Starks/jstarks@dailyherald.com, 2015

“He was the Superman of town,” says Nordmeyer, who says evidence ruined that myth. “I was very, very mad. Some people have a hard time believing it. Myself, I believe it.”

Drained by the experience, Nordmeyer no longer dwells on the crime, the treachery or the years of bad behavior that were kept under wraps. Neither does Linneo Pioro, executive director of the Fox Lake Area Chamber of Commerce & Industry, who is so committed to the positive that she prepares a script about the anniversary to read to reporters.

“What I would like people to remember is the overwhelming support this community gave when we felt the need to pull together,” Pioro says. “In the end, that should be the focus for moving forward. Business owners, residents, family and friends came together to help and support each other. I believe that was our strength, and that is what we can be proud of.”

Her office, at the park where thousands turned out for a Gliniewicz vigil, is in a building where the ceilings are tall enough to accommodate the masts of sailboats, which used to be repaired and stored there. She first came to Fox Lake because her grandmother had a place here.

A century ago, Fox Lake was home to grand hotels and summer cottages. The hotels are gone and many of the cottages have been converted to year-round homes.

“You go up in the attic, and there are newspapers for insulation,” says Antioch Township Supervisor Steve Smouse, who moved to the area when he was 4. The Gliniewicz saga didn't change Fox Lake for him.

“I know his mom and his brother, and they're both really nice people,” Smouse says. “Nothing ever changes in Fox Lake. You've got good elements and bad elements. Back in the 1920s, it was all supposedly gangsters.”

The crime waves left by Al Capone and other hoodlums who made their mark last century in Fox Lake vanished, Smouse says. So have stories of payoffs and extortion that sent a Fox Lake mayor to prison in the 1980s. The felony charges facing Gliniewicz's widow, Melodie, for her role in the Explorer post's finances won't hang over the town forever.

“Life goes on, and death goes on,” Smouse says.

New faces on the Fox Lake police force remind Nordmeyer his town has changed.

“It's a good thing, but it's kind of sad,” he says about no longer knowing the name of every officer he spots in town. But he's thrilled about one difference from last year.

“Customers would call here and ask if it was safe to boat here,” Nordmeyer says of last Labor Day weekend. This year, he's busier than he's been since the summer of 2008, with boats selling and slips full. He says he has no interest in Gliniewicz anniversary stories. Others seem to be bracing for the coverage.

  Enjoying the last free day before school starts, lifelong Fox Lake resident Don Stang, 53, and his daughter, Grace, 13, cast their lines into the lake. One year ago, they stood in the hot sun, watching the parade of law enforcement vehicles from across the nation show tribute to slain police Lt. Charles Joseph Gliniewicz. This year, the Stangs say they are happy to be back fishing. Burt Constable/bconstable@dailyherald.com

“We'll read them. We'll see what new stuff comes out,” Stang says, predicting Fox Lake folks will quickly move on. “You want them to forget about it. We'd like it to come back as a place to go boating and fishing.”

But even Nordmeyer can't escape all reminders. Setting up high school fishing tournaments, Nordmeyer logged into his computer's 2016 calendar earlier this month and came across an entry for an upcoming tournament he had scheduled a year ago to honor the slain officer and raise money for his family.

“I had forgotten about it,” Nordmeyer says. “I just deleted that tournament.”

Like ripples in a lake, another Gliniewicz moment is gone.

Article Comments
Guidelines: Keep it civil and on topic; no profanity, vulgarity, slurs or personal attacks. People who harass others or joke about tragedies will be blocked. If a comment violates these standards or our terms of service, click the "flag" link in the lower-right corner of the comment box. To find our more, read our FAQ.