It was near midnight when the arresting officer was walking past Dr. Jay Smith in the booking office. He overheard a remark that the prisoner whispered into the telephone.
Jay Smith said to his listener, “… even before the bailbondsman. Get over to the house and take everything out. Including the files!”
The blue metal sign at the township limit reads: NAMED FOR FREDERICK THE GREAT, KING OF PRUSSIA. Jay Smith lived in King of Prussia, only a few minutes from Upper Merion Senior High School. It was well past midnight when township police started acting upon information received from the arresting officers.
At 1:00 A.M. a detective was staked out at the residence of Jay Smith on Valley Forge Road. The cops couldn’t imagine who would arrive at the house of the principal to “get everything out.” And what would “everything” consist of?
At 2:00 A.M. a car entered the Smith driveway. The driver of the car held four university degrees. He was short and slight and looked as threatening as Woody Allen. In fact, he looked very much like the school librarian, which is what he’d been until the recent Philadelphia layoffs. The librarian had been a close friend of Jay Smiths for many years.
The cops hid by a line of trees and watched the librarian carrying boxes from the basement of the Smith house. Among the items he carried to his Plymouth were some file boxes containing two packets of marijuana weighing a total of 818 grams. The cops pounced on the unsuspecting librarian who said that he was only doing what his friend Jay Smith had asked, and the authorities later decided not to charge him with any crime. But the marijuana in the box allowed them to get the local magistrate out of bed and swear out a search warrant.
At seven o’clock that morning the secret basement apartment of Jay Smith was full of cops. They found an additional 580 grams of marijuana and some vials of contraband pills and capsules, but the drugs were eventually of minimal interest to the police. Far more intriguing were other things that caused many excited calls to other police stations around The Main Line.
Another search warrant was served the next day, a warrant that covered a search more far-reaching than anticipated. The superintendent of schools was asked to come to the Jay Smith home where he identified office machines and other equipment stolen from the Upper Merion school district, as well as reproductions of famous paintings snatched off the walls in the district office. And also something that made absolutely no sense to the cops: Dr. Jay Smith had apparently stolen four gallons of nitric acid from the school. For what?
Then there were the things that had nothing to do with the school. They found two silver badges and uniforms, the kind worn by Brink’s security guards. In Jay Smith’s desk they found a bogus identification card fashioned from a U.S. Army identification card. In fact, there was a whole packet of stolen army I.D. cards. The bogus Brink’s card bore a photo of Jay Smith with the name “Carl S. Williams” beneath it.
The charges against the school principal were piling up when the police found yet another uniform, that of an officer in the U.S. Army Reserve. This uniform wasn’t a phony. A call verified that the educator was retired from the 79th Army Reserve Command, and that Colonel Smith had in fact carpooled to army reserve meetings with his commanding general. The general was shocked. He’d always spoken highly of his intelligent colonel. The general was John Eisenhower, son of the thirty-fourth president of the United States.
The cops in the basement that day hauled off a lot of evidence and photographed the rest. The bottles of drugs contained Valium, Librium and Placidyl, but the cops were puzzling over everything else. They found five more oil-filter silencers along with a pair of latex gloves. The basement walls were pocked with bullet holes, no doubt from target practice with the silenced guns. Along with the stolen military I.D. cards, they found a pile of blue combs bearing the name of his army reserve unit.
They learned that one of Jay Smiths guns appeared to have been bought by and registered to the assistant principal at Upper Merion, except that when they contacted the man he informed them he had never bought a gun. He told the cops that his wallet and identification had been stolen from his desk in the past year.
It appeared that Jay Smith had swiped everything from Upper Merion but the swimming pool, when he wasn’t busy terrorizing Sears stores as a bogus courier.
There were lots of other unusual things in the basement, his library for instance. Dr. Jay Smith had books with titles like The Canine Tongue, Her Bestial Dreams, Her Four-legged Lover, The Bestial Erotics and Animal Fever.
There were plenty of swinger publications, both straight and gay. There were classified ads from “modern” couples willing to exchange information with pen pals. And finally, there was a significant quantity of chains and several locks. The cops photographed the chains and figured that Dr. Jay was a world class party animal.
This was reinforced when Stephanie Smith gave her divorce lawyer a dildo described on a later police report as “pink, regular size” and another described as “extra large, black, with manual crank, squirts water.”
And what, the boys in the station house wanted to know, would General Eisenhower think of those little weapons?
7
Mr. Hyde
For most of his life, Jay Smith had not been all that unattractive. He was six foot two, customarily weighed less than two hundred pounds and carried himself erectly, as befit a military man. He had a good speaking voice and an impressive command of language. But during the months preceding his arrest, a physical change had taken place and it was well documented by news photographs when the educator was in jail trying to raise bail money and facing felony charges leveled by the district attorneys of three counties. There was the Sears theft at the St. Davids store, the attempted theft at the Neshaminy Mall Sears store, the incident of car prowling with loaded guns at the Gateway Shopping Center, the theft of property from the Upper Merion school district, and the possession of contraband drugs. Enough charges to keep Dr. Jay C. Smith in courtrooms for some time to come.
The photographic story was remarkable. He had a high forehead so if there had been additional hair loss it was not noticeable, but he’d gotten heavy and soft and bent, and his face had undergone a coarsening. The Tartar eyes had grown more hooded. The flesh around those eyes collapsed and the sagging lids became reptilian. His heavy dark brows, which always had a tendency to lift cynically, now arched diabolically. Never refined, his wide mouth seemed more fleshy and sagged at the lips from the pull of swollen jowls. And with the added weight and grossening, his weak knobby chin receded noticeably within the folds of his neck.
Now the educator did not merely look dissolute, but extraordinarily sinister. Not a face likely to instill confidence in a jury.
Because of the Quaker influence, the sign at the edge of town reads: WEST CHESTER WELCOMES THEE.
“I could have been president of the United States but I lost the election for mayor of West Chester” is the way John J. O’Brien sized up his brief foray into local politics.
John O’Brien enjoyed trial work, especially criminal law, but thus far his triumphs had been limited to cases such as one involving a hobo who took upon himself the duty of picking up litter in the public park near a lovers’ lane. The litter mostly included discarded underwear and lawyer O’Brien got a kick out of successfully proving that the hobo was an environmentalist, not a voyeur.
A man given to self-deprecating humor, O’Brien was surprised and excited when his divorce client, Mrs. Stephanie Smith, asked him to defend her husband, Dr. Jay Smith, who he knew stood charged with a series of highly publicized crimes.
John O’Brien tilted his round Irish face and his dark brows gave him a pixieish look, when he recalled the request.
“I’m just a small-town lawyer,” O’Brien reminisced, settled in his front-yard rocking chair. The wooden sign suspended over the door of his Victorian office in a residential neighborhood of West Chester said: JOHN J. O’BRIEN, ATTORNEY AT LAW. And below it the word NOTARY had been added, proving that i
t wasn’t all that easy for a small-town lawyer to make a buck.
“Like everyone else,” the lawyer recalled, “when I first met Stephanie Smith I couldn’t believe she was the wife of a school principal. But she was a decent soul, and I really liked her. She was the kind who always gave you a hug and kiss when coming or going, whether you wanted it or not.”
It seemed that the principal could not get an impartial trial anywhere in the Philadelphia area what with the newspaper coverage of his scandalous secret life. O’Brien wanted at least to win a venue change for the most serious offense, the theft from the St. Davids Sears store, but venue changes were time-consuming.
Stephanie Smith was by then trying to keep her spirits up while her cancer advanced to more critical stages. She still wore her hair teased and sprayed but she’d changed the color to a less garish shade of auburn. And the dying woman even got plastic surgery on her hooked nose during what she knew would be her last year on earth. Possibly the attention of the press was welcomed by Jay Smith’s suffering wife who was in and out of the hospital during short periods of remission.
In the first week of the Jay Smith scandal, she held a press interview and said to reporters, “Hon, you can live with a man for twenty-seven years and not know him. Why, Jay didn’t even let me know he was in jail ’til thirty-six hours after the arrest. I was shocked! I hadn’t seen Jay since Saturday and thought he’d went to army reserves or something. He always would come and go without telling me nothing. It wasn’t unusual not to see him for days at a time.”
Then Stephanie told reporters how she’d met young Jay Smith when he was a student teacher at Chester High School and how, like Jay, she was from a poor local family and how, after they married in 1951, she helped to support him during his university years, and waited and worked while he was overseas in Korea as an army officer.
And despite what lawyer O’Brien advised, during every interview Stephanie gave, there would be lots of potentially damaging tidbits about his “eccentric” ways. She gave reporters what they wanted, but she made it known that she admired her husband.
“He’s such a thinker,” Stephanie Smith said in another interview. “He never talked much around the house but he’d go down to his den and speak into his tape recorder. Hon, he has a wonderful speaking voice! But he always said I didn’t own him and I shouldn’t get involved in his life, and he wanted his privacy. I was always taught that the man is the master of the house and you just accept what he wants.”
Stephanie Smith also let it be known that her husband frequently commented that “the devil will rule the earth.”
The cops said, so what else is new? But the opinion was entered in a public report as a matter of routine.
General John Eisenhower also gave a statement concerning his former colonel: “I think of him often. He was clever and loquacious. He had a terrific sardonic sense of humor. His only eccentricity was his penchant for being a loner. I remember once hinting that we might get together socially for a beer, but he said that the way he lived he had no friends and wanted no friends. I didn’t take offense because I knew he was a busy man and perhaps didn’t have time for such things. He was a free thinker, versed in the classics. He did not join his fellow officers in the mess or at parties.”
The press blitzed Upper Merion, but at first all they could get were some vague statements to the effect that Dr. Jay Smith was a lone wolf who never talked about anything but his work and never mixed socially with colleagues. Despite his years at Upper Merion, some faculty members could not even say for certain if the Smiths had children.
As the fall term was about to begin, Jay Smith was arranging to get out of jail and was composing a few press releases of his own. First, he denied any criminal activity whatsoever, stating that it was preposterous to think he was the bogus courier. Secondly, he theorized that part of his problem was caused by the Upper Merion school administrators who were “out to get him” and inflaming the media.
Some observers might note that from the beginning of his troubles and down through the years, Dr. Jay Smith, on those rare occasions when he would speak, was always more concerned with allegations of sexual perversion than by the very serious felony charges leveled against him.
As to the other public agencies “out to get him,” he had this to say: “The police find a collection of special books that I keep for research. But because they deal with such subjects as sex, homosexuality and bestiality, the police seem preoccupied with them. They see the books on homosexuality and they say, ‘Ah ha! Smiths a homosexual.’ So they ask my wife and she sets them straight and they scratch that one from their list.”
He assured his public that he was planning to publish a book entitled How to Prevent Homosexuality in Your Children.
As to the canine books, he admitted that he was interested in exploring the possibility of training animals as sexual surrogates and that he planned to launch a mail order firm to distribute his findings.
So naturally, all the cops made up gags about Jay Smith’s coming SPCA journal called Loving Your Pet. And Jay Smith’s version of a Ralph Nader-style blockbuster called Consumer’s Guide to Dildos.
But of course the cops couldn’t care less if Jay Smith was bisexual or trisexual or king of the collies. They were interested in the strange little matter of the syringe with the massive dose of drugs, his alibi being that it belonged to his son-in-law Eddie Hunsberger.
Well, where was Edward Hunsberger? And where was his wife, Stephanie, daughter of Jay Smith? They represented Jay Smiths potential alibi for all the drugs found in the basement.
When the cops tried to find the Hunsbergers, they discovered that Eddie and Stephanie had failed to keep an appointment at a methadone clinic back in February. The clinic employees told them that several attempts to contact the recovering addicts at the Smith home had produced no leads, so the counselors feared drug relapse.
One clinic counselor told police that during her last telephone inquiry into the whereabouts of her clients Edward and Stephanie Hunsberger, she’d managed to reach Dr. Jay Smith himself who told her that the young couple would not need further monitoring.
“I’ve gotten them a Placidyl and some real good pot,” he told the startled counselor. “They’re going to de-tox themselves.”
When she recovered from that revelation and told Dr. Smith she didn’t think that was a good idea, he surprised her further by saying, “Thank you for the help you’ve given Stephanie and Eddie. And by the way, I have access to good pot that I got in Trenton. If you’re ever interested.”
When Jay Smith got arrested, he was found to be carrying the social security card of his daughter, Stephanie Hunsberger. And the police discovered that somebody had been forging the name of Edward Hunsberger and Stephanie on several welfare checks that had been sent to the Smith home for six months after the young couple was last seen. The cops didn’t bother trying to prove forgery against Jay Smith because there were enough charges to investigate, but they were really starting to wonder about the Hunsbergers’ disappearance.
The detectives had a theory about the night of his arrest. The local owner of a large supermarket chain owned a van exactly like the one Jay Smith was peeking into. The police wondered if the school principal had been plotting a kidnap.
More than one cop expressed exactly the same sentiment as they tried to piece together a profile of the elusive and mysterious principal of Upper Merion. “For a long time,” a cop said, “that guy was a loose cannon, careening all over the place.”
Shortly after his arrest, while he was in the Chester County Farms Prison trying to arrange bail, he received a letter of sympathy and support from a colleague. And that colleague received a speedy reply from the beleaguered educator. The reply was written in August, 1978, and mailed from the prison farm. The letter from Jay Smith to William Bradfield began:
Dear Bill,
Please cut out the Dr. Smith stuff. Jay or Jack is what friends call me. I prefer “Jack.” I count you
as a friend.…
In that letter Jay Smith asked for three books: Moby Dick, Ivanhoe and Warriner’s Grammar. He said that he intended to begin teaching other prisoners if he couldn’t get a bail reduction to gain his freedom.
And while Bill Bradfield and Jay Smith were busy writing letters, Susan Reinert was busy writing a letter about him. It was sent to her therapist and was dated September 3rd.
Dear Ros,
Our former principal, Dr. Smith, has been arrested on robbery charges. The papers have been full of bizarre stories so I’m sure the opening of school will be “interesting.” I always thought he was strange but not criminal.
I have seen Bill. Nothing much different. I still love him. He now says he loves me but there are no more plans for our seeing each other than there have ever been. I have gotten a little more interested in dating others again. Will see what happens.
Love,
Susan
The diary notes of Susan Reinert indicate that she was groping for new determination to change the direction of her hopeless affair with William Bradfield.
In a sad piece of self-analysis she wrote: “Rejection, low self-worth, constant battle. He would rather live with someone who wants to kill me than to live with me.”
By the time school opened, the police noted that all of the crimes for which Jay Smith was charged had occurred on Saturdays when an educator is free. Then they discovered from Dorothy Hunsberger that she had last seen her son Eddie and Jay Smiths daughter Stephanie on a Saturday in February. And it didn’t take long for local journalists to discover that when Edward and Stephanie Hunsberger had disappeared, all of their possessions were left behind in the Jay Smith home. They had vanished from the earth with only the clothes on their backs.
Naturally, it didn’t take long for a reporter to write: “Dr. Smith or Mr. Hyde?”
Echoes in the Darkness Page 8