Blood Crimes

by Fred Rosen

  Once, in 1987, Nelson was wanted by the Whitehall Township Police—Whitehall is adjacent to Allentown—on a felony theft charge. Birdwell fled the state with his wife, Donna, and their ten-year-old son, Ben. Living in a van, they wound up in New York, a faceless family moving through the masses, just three of the thousands of homeless that call the Big Apple home. After a few months of this rootless existence, they traveled across the Hudson River and took up residence in a fleabag motel in Teaneck, New Jersey.

  Leaving Donna and Ben behind, Birdwell hit the streets. He was arrested for possession of drug paraphernalia and motor vehicle violations and held on $10,000 bail. When his name was put through the computer, it spit out his record and the outstanding charge in Whitehall, Pennsylvania.

  Seeing that her husband was going to be detained for a while, Nelson’s wife was forced to call Birdwell’s father, Nelson Birdwell Sr., also a Jehovah’s Witness, who drove up from Allentown to bring his daughter-in-law and grandson home. The elder Birdwell was so concerned about them that he asked that a representative of Lehigh County check on the family’s living conditions to make sure they were okay.

  Nelson Birdwell II, meanwhile, was taken back to Whitehall. He had been arrested fourteen times and convicted thirteen times. His son, Ben, watched his father closely and began emulating him. As Ben grew up, he began getting into trouble. Eventually, he had a juvenile record.

  Bryan and David Freeman watched, not from afar, but close up as their uncle, and then their cousin, with whom they were close, went through their criminal troubles. They saw the way both father and son flouted authority, the way they broke the law, and the way the law continually reprieved them.

  Once again, it was terribly confusing. All the Birdwells were raised as Jehovah’s Witnesses. And then there was their grandfather. Bryan and David were extremely fond of their grandfather. Nelson Sr., in turn, loved his grand kids. However, the elder Nelson Birdwell stopped being a Jehovah’s Witness around 1986. After some sort of unspecified dispute he refuses to talk about, he stopped being a Witness.

  Did he leave because he was disfellowshiped? Or did he leave by his own volition? Regardless, how Brenda explained to her children her father’s departure from the fold remains undisclosed.

  Despite the problems that shook the Freeman family, Bryan and David kept to the straight and narrow. Not once were they arrested. Not once were they charged with a crime. They never had a criminal record of any sort.

  Even as police in three states hunted them, the Freeman brothers’ criminal record remained pristine.

  Jerri Dow was a member of the Salisbury Township Kingdom Hall. A Jehovah’s Witness for eighteen years, she remembers Dennis Freeman as a mild, quiet respectful man.

  “My husband, who was not a Witness, used to go over to the Kingdom Hall and plow out the snow for Dennis. And Dennis, he always sent us a lovely thank you card. That’s something you remember, when a man has manners like that.”

  As an Elder, Dennis sometimes led the discussion at the Salisbury Township Kingdom Hall, during their five weekly meetings.

  “Dennis was so nice and down-to-earth. He would always come over and shake our hand,” Dow continued.

  Dennis, meanwhile, began turning his back on family problems. In 1986, he took a job in the Southern Lehigh School District as the bus terminal manager. When a position opened up as school custodian, Dennis was asked to serve in that capacity. Always obedient, always ready to help out, Dennis agreed.

  Dennis quickly became known among his co-workers as a gentle man with a quiet sense of humor. He had a name for everyone, whether it was Sally Kneller, middle school head custodian, who he called “Sweet Sal,” or Ray Seifert, district heating, ventilation, air conditioning, and plumbing supervisor, who Dennis named “Macho.”

  Dennis became known around the school as a confidence builder. He’d always tell Macho, “You can do it. You don’t belong here. You should be going on to bigger and better things.” It would never occur to Dennis to do the same himself.

  Ray and Dennis developed a strong friendship and mutual respect. During lunch, they played basketball or stick-ball and sometimes lifted weights together. Once, they went out to shoot bows and arrows. Ray later recalled that Dennis set him up. “He never told me he was on his high school archery team.”

  Being involved with school sports is a practice that is frowned upon by Jehovah’s Witnesses, so Dennis was taking a chance that he would be remonstrated by the elders if they found out he was an archer.

  Around the school where he worked, Dennis quickly developed a reputation as an erudite man. He always seemed to be reading something. Away from Kingdom Hall, he indulged a passion for the classics, reading Plato and discussing the philosopher with his co-workers.

  In Plato’s The Republic, the philosopher examines the nature of justice within the state. Considering that Jehovah’s Witnesses disavow the state, and justice would play a major role in the future life of the Freeman family, it is ironic that of all the philosophers, the one whose work Dennis chose to pursue was Plato.

  NINE

  January 1995

  When Floyd Cochran answered his phone, the woman on the other end of the line announced excitedly, “I’ve lost control of my boys. They’re out of control, and so is my household,” Brenda Freeman said, barely controlling the hysteria in her voice.

  Aryan Nations is one of the more prominent neo-Nazi groups in the United States, and Cochran had been an Aryan Nations spokesman and organizer in Idaho. Brenda was calling because she just didn’t know what to do, and Cochran, who counsels parents whose children are caught in the neo-Nazi web, had no easy answers to her predicament.

  Brenda needed answers. Maybe she’d go closer to home. She dialed again.

  “Can I help you? This is Barry Morrison. I’m the head of the Anti-Defamation League here in Philadelphia.”

  “Yes, I hope so. I’m at my wits’ end. I need help with my boys.”

  “But Mrs. Freeman, we’re the ADL, we—”

  “I know, you track and monitor hate groups. My sons, Bryan and David, they’re skinheads.”

  Morrison was interested. The ADL in Philadelphia kept close track of skinheads across the state.

  “What seems to be the problem, Mrs.—”

  “Freeman. Brenda Freeman. I’m calling from Allentown. I was referred to you by one of our local agencies. I just don’t know where to turn. You see, my sons, I can’t control them anymore.”

  “Are your sons violent, Mrs. Freeman?”

  “Well, one time, they assaulted my husband during a counseling session.”

  “Counseling for what?”

  “Substance abuse and psychological problems. Both of my boys have problems, but I love them. I can’t control them and I just don’t know what to do.”

  Brenda went on to describe other violent incidents: when the brothers took her hostage and police had to talk them into releasing her; when Bryan pinned her to the floor and threatened to kill her with a hatchet.

  “Did you press charges?” Morrison wondered.

  “No,” Brenda answered. “I’m just trying very, very hard to get them counseling and help them.”

  Morrison didn’t know what he could do. It sounded like whatever social welfare agencies Brenda Freeman had been dealing with, they just didn’t understand the immediate threat the Freeman brothers posed to their mother and probably their father, as well. The real question was how strong their skinhead beliefs were. The more strongly they believed in white supremacy and fascism, the more violent they would be.

  “Are your sons violent, Mrs. Freeman? Do your boys ascribe to Mark Thomas’s doctrine?” Morrison asked.

  Thomas was the local hatemonger, a Hitler wannabe, probably the most powerful neo-Nazi in the state.

  “They have been there, to his farm, I mean,” Brenda answered. “They wear the swastika on their clothes, and they have the Nazi medals and such. They are also tattooed.”

  “With Nazi symbol
s?”

  “Yes. On their foreheads.”

  The whole situation was too typical. While some skinheads come from lower-class backgrounds, by and large, they are teenagers from middle-class homes, who have grown disillusioned with their families and are seeking out some sort of substitute. The camaraderie of the skinhead cause serves as a replacement family, despite its roots being twisted and evil.

  “Are they involved with any other skinheads?”

  “Someone told me about skinheads in the York area. David was seen there after-hours in possession of beer. He was spotted with this other boy who was under the care of the state. He was an emancipated minor.”

  She was afraid her son was thinking about doing the same thing.

  “Then there’s Ben.”

  “Ben?”

  “Their cousin. Older cousin, he’s eighteen. He’s a skinhead, too.”

  “Well, what is it you’re seeking?”

  “Just some suggestions about how to handle them. Mr. Morrison, they have, uh, threatened me, too.”

  She needed to do more then “handle them.”

  Her boys were racists. One had already gotten violent, the other was getting ready to act out. But Brenda Freeman was ignoring all that. Brenda felt she had an obligation for her sons’ well-being, despite the fact that violence was already present in the family dynamic.

  Morrison recognized a pattern of avoidance.

  “What about your husband. His name is …”

  “Dennis.”

  “Dennis. Has he been able to help through all this?”

  “Dennis, he’s had his problems. He was severely depressed after his father died recently.”

  That struck a chord.

  “Do either one of your boys have problems with depression?”

  “Yes, Bryan does. He has … violent tendencies. He had been on medication to control it, but then he stopped taking it.”

  “Mr. Morrison,” Brenda added, “I also feel that my boys have engaged in behavior I just can’t condone, like harassing and beating up minorities.”

  “Well, let me give some thought to it. Maybe I can make some suggestions down the road.”

  “Thank you. I’d appreciate that.”

  Morrison took her number, and a few weeks later, he called to say that while he had no suggestions yet for how to cope with the situation her sons had put her in, he was not neglecting her. In fact, he just didn’t know what to tell her.

  For her part, Brenda was in constant anguish. She didn’t know what to do. She couldn’t control Bryan and David anymore. She had tried everything. Even going to the Anti-Defamation League, which was a violation Watchtower doctrine. Everything was to be kept within the church. If anyone found out what she’d done, she would certainly be remonstrated by one of the Elders.

  Brenda went into her bedroom and took the book out of the top drawer of her dresser. It was a scrapbook that she had found in Bryan’s dresser.

  As she had many times, she opened and began to look through it. And as she did, her face grew grimmer and grimmer, her heart grew heavier and heavier, and even though it was midday, it seemed like God had taken all light out of her life.

  KEVIN IZBICKI CONVICTED OF MURDER

  MAN JAILED IN MACHETE ATTACKS ON 3

  SKINHEADS RAMPAGE, ATTACK FOREIGNERS

  SENTENCE IS LIFE IN RACIAL KILLING

  WHITE, SUPREMACIST GETS LIFE FOR

  KILLING PERSIAN GULF VET

  12 HOURS NEEDED TO DIG UP BODY

  The headlines of the Death Book read like a who’s who of murder and racism, tied to the skinhead movement internationally, with a little Satanism thrown in for good measure.

  Also in the book were mailing labels with the name “Eastern Hammerskins” on each one. Eastern Hammerskins is a skinhead group with an active gang in nearby Stewartstown.

  After she had put the book aside, Brenda realized that she and Dennis were in real danger. There was the possibility, however remote, however unexplainable, that her children, David and Bryan, might—

  No, she just couldn’t give voice to her fears.

  But in case she wasn’t around, she was going to explain the Death Book. Brenda found a sheet of paper and began to write.

  “Found on December 3, 1993, book in middle drawer of Bryan’s desk called Death Book. Inside cover article about girl who started fires and other destructive things through demon possession on blue construction paper in block letters the words, ‘Help me! Please!’

  “Inside sheet pasted with articles like trial for Izbicki, who killed his mother. Also an ad for cremation service, also obituary listing, also articles about a teen who kept a diary in which she plotted her father’s death because he resented his ‘meddling’ in her love life. Also about two girls who showed no remorse about killing their mother because she punished them for sneaking out at night—occult literature was found in the house.

  “Also article about Exxon exec who was abducted and killed. Article about man who eluded police but was finally captured in Arizona. Various little articles about young people who killed or raped without remorse.

  “Some articles about deaths in Serbia, an article about a priest who was expelled from his order for his beliefs that involved mysticism.

  “An article about the deaths involving heavy metal music and Satanism in Arizona. Various other articles, some yet unpasted.

  “Most disturbing to see and read.”

  That last line was probably the most understated thing Brenda had ever written in her life.

  Rules, rules, rules. Nothing but stupid rules. That’s how David and Bryan felt about their home, and they hated rules.

  There were rules on who they could socialize with, when to go out, when to come back. Rules not to smoke, not to drink, not to talk. Erik went along with the rules. Ass kisser.

  If the Freeman brothers were asked at exactly what moment they began rebelling against their parents, their family, and their religion, they would not be able to answer. The truth was that their thoughts had begun to rebel many years before they physically grew strong enough to defy their parents.

  The seeds for the rebellion had been laid in their formative years and it was upon hitting their early teens that they began to act out, that is, to begin to blatantly defy their parents’ edicts and to take their growing anger out on the society that they found themselves in.

  Their active rebellion began in 1991, when Bryan was thirteen and David eleven. The boys decided that they would no longer attend Watchtower meetings. Some of the Witnesses in the Salisbury congregation believed that the boys’ listening to heavy metal music—heavily laced with violence—accounted for their intransigence. Dennis and Brenda didn’t know why, just that the rebellion had started.

  Jehovah’s Witnesses know that their salvation depends on what they do on earth during their corporeal lives. Even if they have served Jehovah with all the power of their heart, only the chosen few will be spared on Armageddon Day, which they believe is imminent.

  If Dennis could not get his boys to conform, if they continued to act in such heinous ways, he, Dennis, would not be allowed the privilege of being saved from destruction and allowed to live on the paradise earth. They had a chance. He needed to preach to them more, to get them to accept the teachings of the Elders, like he had as a child. That was the only thing to do, and that would take time.

  Dennis preached, and two “brothers” (the term Witnesses use to address each other) would come to the Freemans’ house on Ehrets Lane and reason with the boys, using scriptural Passages to have Bryan and David accept Jehovah and come back into the fold. To come back into the fold meant life; to resist meant death.

  Such efforts were to no avail. The Freeman brothers continued their rebellious ways.

  At that point, the boys were “marked” as a bad association. The rest of the congregation in Allentown could not associate with them. They were effectively isolated from the community they had grown up in.

  To David and Bryan,
being marked meant nothing. They had been marked since they’d started school and associated with kids who were not Witnesses. At this point, it was probably a pleasure to have once and for all pissed everyone off enough that they didn’t have to deal with their parents’ beliefs and asshole friends anymore.

  Whether Dennis Freeman was forcibly removed as an Elder or resigned of his own accord is unclear. Why is also unclear. Dennis’s father-in-law, Nelson Birdwell Sr., says that Dennis stopped being an Elder because “it was something of a personal nature between Dennis and his peers. The boys became aware of this and lost respect for their father. The boys respect strength.”

  Whatever the reasons, one thing is clear: Once Dennis stepped down from the Witnesses ruling echelon, getting his sons to conform became his top priority. It was either that or face destruction.

  Dennis was a big man, six feet and over two hundred pounds, but he was weak emotionally. He set boundaries that his sons trampled. He could never tell them, “Do not come home late” and mean it. No matter what he said, they did the exact opposite. Controlling them was something he just could not do. So Dennis abdicated that responsibility, withdrew into himself, and let Brenda become the disciplinarian. It was a task she threw herself into with great zeal.

  Brenda established a series of rules David and Bryan had to live by. If they didn’t, they were punished.

  It didn’t work.

  One night in 1992, Valerie Freeman came into her room, put on the lights, and found someone had put animal parts in her bed. It seemed to be some sort of Satanic ritual. Brenda and Dennis could not believe it, but there was the evidence, right in front of them. When twelve-year-old David was confronted by his mother and father, he confessed to having done the act.

  “Satan!” Dennis shouted. “You are doing Satan’s work!”

  “Yeah, right,” David said, unimpressed by the religious rhetoric. He picked up a beer and took a long, slow slug of it.

  Upset, Dennis and Brenda sought counseling from the Elders, who visited the Freeman home and tried once again, to show David the error of his ways. David did not take too kindly to that.