Game Over

by Bill Moushey

  When Matt Paknis joined the coaching staff as a graduate assistant in 1987, he sensed some negative feelings about Sandusky, but nobody said anything publicly. He thought Sandusky was cordial enough, but there was something creepy about the way he always surrounded himself with kids from The Second Mile. Sandusky had kids from the charity with him at team functions, on the team bus, at the games at Beaver Stadium, everywhere he went. Paknis claimed that he was hypersensitive to men who enjoyed the company of minors, having been abused by a neighbor when he was a boy. He believed his radar was sensitive enough to pick up something no one else seemed to have noticed.

  “He was the Pied Piper,” Paknis recalled. “I remember kids being around him all the time. I never saw him do anything overt, but I always thought there was something weird about him. It was a boundary issue. He was always touching the kids. You cross the line when you touch kids. You don’t put your hands on kids.”

  WITH SANDUSKY COACHING DEFENSE, Penn State continued to win on the football field. The Grand Experiment kept churning out victories as well as graduates, and by 1999 Sandusky was the senior assistant on Paterno’s staff. His success was so well known that he was considered by everyone in the football program to be Paterno’s heir.

  For years there was speculation that Paterno was going to retire. He was seventy-eight-years old, far older than most active coaches. He was already a grandfather seventeen times. He often talked about retiring, fueling speculation about who would replace him. For a time a prime candidate was the offensive head coach Fran Ganter. Like Sandusky, Ganter had played for the Nittany Lions and had been on the coaching staff for many years. Tom Bradley’s name was also often mentioned. He was younger than Sandusky and Ganter by a decade. He too was a former Nittany Lion and had been a full-time coach on Paterno’s staff since 1980. But it was all a moot point because JoePa wouldn’t leave.

  In 1999 Jerry Sandusky appeared to be at the peak of his career. He was fifty-five, the perfect age to assume a head coach job somewhere else. That May Paterno informed him that he would never be offered the job of head coach at Penn State, regardless of when the position became available. Paterno’s reason was that Sandusky’s attention to his charity was taking too much time away from his duties as defensive coordinator.

  On July 1 a news release was issued from the Sports Information Department announcing Sandusky’s retirement. He had no plans to coach at another school; he was just ready to step down and call it a career. And he wanted to devote more time to The Second Mile. In a statement he said, “As the organization has grown, the demands for my hands-on involvement have increased dramatically. Then a retirement window opened up at the same time, and that made it more economically feasible to do something like this.”

  Sports writers scratched their heads at the way the announcement was made. After all, Sandusky had built quite a reputation as a defensive mastermind in his thirty-two years on the coaching staff. The Nittany Lions had won their only two national titles while he was the Dean of Linebacker U. Given Sandusky’s credentials and length of service, those who covered the team figured there would be a big farewell news conference, with Joe Paterno in attendance to indulge Sandusky with glowing tributes. An announcement in a news release, even if it had been laudatory, seemed like an odd way to say goodbye.

  As it turned out, there was no big farewell party. Paterno’s reaction was confined to the news release: “We can’t say enough about what he has brought to the football program as an exceptional coach, a fine player and a person of great character and integrity. The success that the Nittany Lions have enjoyed over the last three decades is due in large part to the contribution of people on our coaching staff like Jerry Sandusky. Jerry always has dreamed big dreams and, as he’s proven with The Second Mile, he’s someone who can turn hope into reality.”

  Penn State’s athletic director Tim Curley was the one to release the news of Sandusky’s retirement. He too complimented Sandusky on his career as a player and a coach. “His achievement as a human being is splendidly demonstrated by the thousands of youngsters he touches annually through The Second Mile,” he said in a statement.

  Sandusky was eligible for a comfortable nest egg. At the age of fifty-five his retirement package from the state retirement system qualified him for a lump sum of $148,271 and a $58,898 yearly pension. As a tenured professor of physical education, he was granted emeritus status at Penn State, which allowed him to keep his rank and title. He would have unlimited access to all football facilities and all recreational facilities. He could work out in the weight room built for football players and shower in the team’s locker room. A parking pass for a campus lot was part of the package. Sandusky was given an account under the university’s computer system, and he was listed in the faculty directory.

  As another perk the university also provided him with an office in a building across from the new Lasch Football Complex. Sandusky decorated the walls of his office with team photos, plaques, news clippings, and a bronzed shoe; he had worn the shoe as a midget football player back at Clark Elementary School. A number of awards for his work with troubled youth were also on display. For example, in 1993 Sandusky and his father had received the annual Human Rights Award presented by the Washington, Pennsylvania, Branch of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People. Sandusky had been presented with the Contribution to Amateur Football Award in 1995 by the Philadelphia chapter of the National Football Foundation and College Football Hall of Fame. That same year the YMCA had given him its Service-to-Youth Award. Just two weeks before he retired Sandusky had been inducted into the Pennsylvania Sports Hall of Fame, just as his father had been ten years earlier. By all appearances, he was a pillar of the community.

  Sandusky stayed on as a consultant to the football team for the fall season of 1999. Before the final home game on November 14, the seniors on the team were introduced to the crowd. Among them was Sandusky’s son Jon, a reserve defensive back. Sandusky himself was called onto the field to be recognized for his thirty-two years of service and his two championship rings. As he trotted out, he and Jon embraced at the fifty-yard line. An appreciative audience of 96,480 inside Beaver Stadium gave him a standing ovation. Afterward Sandusky said to the media, “I’ve been through so much with those [seniors] and to run out there with a son, I’m sure that’s something every father would love the chance to do. . . . My memories of Penn State football will be of blue-collar, loyal people fighting their guts out.”

  Sandusky was named Assistant Coach of the Year by the American Football Coaches Association, and the Penn State Athletic Department set up a $5,000 scholarship in his name. About the occasion Joe Paterno said in a statement, “We’re delighted to see Jerry honored in this fashion. Obviously, the awards committee recognized how uniquely qualified he was. Jerry is a man who has done honor to everyone in the coaching profession. He is a great football coach and even more outstanding human being.”

  Sandusky’s final game on the sidelines was the Alamo Bowl against Texas A&M on December 28, 1999, in San Antonio. Derek Fox returned an interception thirty-four yards for Penn State’s first touchdown, the only score the Nittany Lions would need. Sandusky’s defense intercepted four passes and recovered a fumble in the 24–0 win. The Aggies were held to 80 net yards rushing and 122 passing. It was the only shutout victory in a bowl game under Paterno, and it was Penn State’s first shutout win in a bowl since beating Alabama 7–0 in the 1959 Liberty Bowl. The defense was so good that entire season that two players, defensive lineman Courtney Brown and linebacker LaVar Arrington, were the first two selections in the NFL draft. At the end of the Alamo Bowl Sandusky was doused with Gatorade and carried to the middle of the field on the shoulders of his players. It was a triumphant finish to a successful career.

  Chapter 4

  The First Clues

  There were several unnerving events the year before Sandusky’s sudden retirement from coaching. In May 1998 an angry mother contacted the campus police, wh
o have jurisdiction over the buildings and grounds of Penn State University. She was distraught over what her eleven-year-old son had told her about his evening with Assistant Coach Jerry Sandusky. Her son’s hair was wet when he got home, and when she asked him about it, he told her that he had showered with the coach in the Penn State locker room. She wanted Sandusky to be arrested.

  The mother explained to the officer how her son had come to know Sandusky in the first place. The boy, an aspiring athlete, had been involved in The Second Mile for about four years. His first interaction with Sandusky was when he was seven, at a charity picnic at Spring Creek Park, a thirty-four-acre preserve about a mile from campus. The two had been in a skit together that day, and Sandusky had showed a genuine interest in the child. After that interaction Sandusky invited him to a Penn State football game, along with several other children from The Second Mile. The outing included a tailgate party organized by Sandusky’s wife. Over time a bond of trust began to develop between the two. The child was being raised by a single mother, who considered Sandusky a good father figure.

  On the night the boy came home with wet hair, Sandusky had taken him to the Penn State football complex. The mother told the officer the coach had picked up her son at the house, but he did not tell her what they would be doing that night. He had not mentioned a workout at Penn State or anything about a shower. The mother had not been asked to provide the child with a change of clothes, or even a towel.

  When her son returned home, he told her that during the short drive from the house to the campus, the coach had repeatedly rubbed his thigh as he sat next to him in the passenger seat of his car, a silver Cadillac. They parked at the Holuba Hall football building, where Sandusky promised him a private tour. They were the only ones in the building. Sandusky handed the boy a pair of gym shorts, even though he was already wearing gym attire. The two lifted weights for twenty minutes or so in the state-of-the-art workout room, then went to the locker room. Sandusky started an improvised game of “Polish bowling,” the object of which was to roll a ball of tape into a cup. The mother reported that the coach then started play-wrestling with her son before persuading him to take a shower, even though the boy was not perspiring.

  She said the child had been so unnerved at the prospect of taking a shower with a naked man that he chose a shower as far from Sandusky as he could get. But Sandusky lured him over, saying he had a shower all warmed up right next to him. As the boy cautiously approached, the naked Sandusky grabbed him around the waist from behind and told him, “I’m going to squeeze your guts out.” He proceeded to bear-hug the child from behind, holding the boy’s back to his chest. He then lathered the child’s back with soap, took him into his arms, and lifted the boy up to the showerhead for a rinse.

  According to the mother, her son was finally able to extricate himself from the coach’s grasp, dressed as quickly as he could, and asked Sandusky to take him home. When she saw her son’s wet hair and heard his story, she contacted the campus police to report the incident.

  Her account landed on the desk of Detective Ronald Schreffler, one of the forty-six members of the campus police force. The short, squat Schreffler was among the best investigators the department had. But his normal caseload was geared more to minor crimes involving the population of 44,000 students than to crimes involving children. He had jurisdiction over crimes and complaints that happened on campus and within five hundred yards of its perimeter. Most calls to the station were about drinking, drugs, or assaults of varying degrees. Calls regarding The Second Mile were limited to providing security for the kids who came to Penn State to attend the organization’s summer camps or other events. The campus cops were always willing to help Sandusky and his charity whenever they could. Just about everybody in Happy Valley knew Sandusky or had heard of him. Because he had been building The Second Mile charity for more than twenty years, his reputation went beyond the football arena.

  From the start, the mother’s complaint against Sandusky was handled with extreme care. Schreffler wasn’t doubting her or her son, but these allegations were against a man who was an icon in the community. He also wasn’t the only person in authority looking into the complaint; by law the Centre County Department of Children and Youth Services, the area’s child welfare agency, also had to be called in. Since it held a contract with The Second Mile for counseling services, the Centre County entity declared a conflict of interest and deferred the case to the Pennsylvania Department of Public Welfare in Harrisburg. The state-run agency assigned its own investigator, Jerry Lauro. Under Pennsylvania law the state is allowed sixty days to consider a complaint before it renders a decision or refers it for prosecution. Lauro’s mandate was to gather facts, regardless of the implications the complaint might have at Penn State.

  Initially Schreffler and Lauro listened to the mother’s story and interviewed her son. Both investigators were concerned enough with what they heard to proceed. The possibility that Sandusky had showered with an eleven-year-old was extremely disturbing.

  The mother’s account was powerful, but the son’s description of what happened was not enough to prove that Sandusky had committed a crime. The investigators weren’t confident they could take the case very far because the child was reluctant to speak out against a man he revered as a role model. From the child’s account, it was unclear whether Sandusky’s acts were sexual or simply inappropriate behavior by a man who considered himself an overgrown kid. If the welfare official determined that the complaint was legitimate, he would be required to place Sandusky’s name on the state’s watch list for sexual predators, and his work with The Second Mile would come to an abrupt end.

  The next step was to bring in a mental health professional to conduct a preliminary evaluation of the child to determine whether the scenario with Sandusky had the markings of a predatory pedophile. After a short examination, the State College-based expert determined the actions were not predatory. Still, the investigators didn’t feel they had enough information; basically it was one child’s vague words against a prominent man. So they asked the mother to invite Sandusky to her home to be surreptitiously monitored. Schreffler proposed to hide in a nearby closet to listen to the conversation. But Lauro declined to accompany him. The Penn State detective then enlisted Ralph Ralston, a detective with the State College Police Department, to assist him. Both detectives were in hiding when Sandusky arrived at the condominium on May 13, 1998.

  The boy’s mother got right to the point. She demanded to know why the coach had showered with her son and why he had given him a naked bear hug. More important, she wanted to know whether he was stimulated sexually by the encounter.

  Sandusky was taken aback and answered the question evasively. Yes, he sheepishly admitted, he had showered with her son, but that was nothing new for him because he had showered with other boys from The Second Mile under his care. He also claimed the episode had not been sexual in nature. The mother then pressed him on whether their private parts had touched during the bear hug. Sandusky said that he wasn’t sure. “I don’t think so . . . maybe,” he admitted in the conversation. The mother demanded that the coach never shower with another boy again, including her son, but Sandusky made no promises.

  The encounter between the mother and Sandusky provided admissions from Sandusky, but the detectives needed more evidence to build a case of molestation, especially since the mental health professional’s report suggested that Sandusky did not fit the profile of a child molester. A second confrontation with the coach was set up for six days later, but this time Lauro, the state welfare investigator, was not made aware of it.

  During the second meeting at the condominium, the boy’s mother posed her questions in stronger terms. She demanded that Sandusky never have contact with her son again, and he agreed. His parting words to her were “I understand. I was wrong. I wish I could get forgiveness. I know I won’t get it from you. I wish I were dead.”

  Although Lauro was unaware that a second meeting between Sandus
ky and the child’s mother had taken place, he agreed with Schreffler that it was time to confront the coach directly. Rather than setting up an appointment that would give Sandusky time to prepare, the men wanted to conduct a surprise interview. After two days of failed attempts to find him, on June 1, 1998, Lauro and Schreffler located Sandusky. They found him working out in a Penn State football weight room. Lauro did all the talking. He confronted Sandusky with the mother’s complaint. After some prodding, Sandusky admitted to showering with the boy, but insisted there was no sexual intent. From his facial expression it was unclear whether Sandusky was concerned about the accusations; he looked at the investigator inquisitively, as if he were trying to fathom why anyone would accuse him of harming a boy he cared so much about. Sandusky said he probably should not have showered with the boy and promised not to do it again. As the conversation ended, Sandusky repeatedly insisted he had done no wrong. “It wasn’t sexual, honest,” he said. Sandusky did not seek legal counsel after the contact with the investigators.

  Lauro believed the probe merited more investigation. But just a few days after the discussion with Sandusky, he learned from Schreffler that Penn State police had closed the investigation and would not file charges. Schreffler did not tell him who made the decision to end the investigation or offer a clear explanation why.

  Not until 2011 did the welfare investigator realize that he did not know everything about what had transpired back in 1998. Lauro had not been informed about the second meeting between Sandusky and the mother. He had also not been given an opportunity to review the police report, which he learned was ninety-five pages long. Had he known about Sandusky’s comments during that second meeting, the state’s probe would likely have taken a different course. In fact, when Lauro returned to Harrisburg after his initial meeting with Sandusky, he told his superiors that he felt the Penn State campus police wanted him out of the probe and out of town as soon as possible. With little information to go on other than Sandusky’s denials, he too closed his case with an “unfounded” ruling, meaning the welfare probe was dead as well. In 1998 he memorialized the event in a one-page report.