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About The daily Nebraskan. ([Lincoln, Neb.) 1901-current | View Entire Issue (Jan. 24, 1989)
BKHM MggjglJ 8 y 8 5 | WEATHER: Tuesday, morning fog, highs INDEX r^l * nja .rwtmn^^ wm JL A> W IK in upper 30s, NE winds 5-15 mph. Tuesday g £2 f B night,possible freezing drizzle, highs in mid 20s 1 ^ ^ W jAh. .sb. ,■>«—». **’ aft with 20 percent chance of precipitation. News Digest.2 jj MB T§|fc MUmiL * 1§|£ jjf B Ir *■ifal Wednesday, drizzle changing to freezing Editorial ... 4 I KmJBI H H Tgff jH B# JP9B PjB S drizzle,highs in low-mid 30s, 40perccnt chance Art & Entertainment 9 5 BP BP BE Han8cW H |B Ot precipitation. Thursday through Saturday, Sports . . . . 6 "TBjyiif maL. W3L j/K BP JBg IB . Sfi wk me Hal iBI MB continued colder temperatures, chance of ram or Classifieds 11 JL ^ JL ls^iLi**JPJOLBHsi»JL K> ■-• ■*■»*«»•_ l_ January 24,1989___ University of Nebraska-Lincoln Vol. 88 No. 85 Seven arrested for drug-related crimes By Chris Carroll Senior Editor Cn investigation of dozens of burgla ries and larcenies reported in Lincoln, including thefts at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln campus, led to seven arrests Saturday night and early Sunday morning, said Lancaster County Sheriff Ron Tussing. Five of those arrested were juveniles, Tussing said, and investigators believe some of these youths were exchanging stolen property for drugs. The stolen items were allegedly given to Arden Messersmith, 32, possibly in exchange for “crank,” Tussing said. “Crank” isaslreet name for methamphetamines. Tussing said the “ . . . possibility (exists) that he may be using stolen property that the kids were stealing for him to finance his drug operation.” Tussing said the arrested youths arc sus pects in . . a multitude of burglaries and larcenies,” in addition to the burglaries they already have been charged with. Terry Scholl, an officer of the UNL Police Department, said the department suspects that several campus larcenies from automobiles may be linked to this investigation. However, she said, proving this may be difficult because serial numbers were altered and scratched off the properly seized at Messersmilh’s resi dence. At 5 a.m. Sunday, a search warrant was served for 2329 N. Main St., where Messersmith is believed to live, Tussing said. Property seized included large amounts of auto parts and accessories, drug paraphernalia, 73 grams of a substance suspected to be mari juana, nearly one-fourth of an ounce of a sub stance suspected to be crank, $1,200 in cash! and a sawed-off shotgun. Tussing said the department believes Messersmith was involved with larger quanti ties of drugs than those seized. “We have information that there were maybe $1,000 shipments (of crank) coming in three or four times a week, and he had just gotten one that morning (Saturday),” said Deputy Denise Simonsen of the sheriff’s de partment. He said Messersmith has been charged with theft by receiving stolen property, possession of a controlled substance with intent to deliver, manufacturing a controlled substance and being a felon in possession of a firearm. Karen Hawco, 26, also was arrested at the property and charged with possession of a controlled substance, Tussing said. “More than the drugs that were seized for the drug manufacturing, the significance is we’ve already cleared about five burglaries and have information that probably is going to lead to some stolen cars and a multitude of larcenies and larcenies from autos,” Tussing said. More arrests on theft and drug-related charges arc possible, Tussing said. -- . i Coordinator quits due to harassment By Brandon Loomis Senior Reporter nfler months of conflict and harassing phone calls, the coordinator of the Univer sity of Nebraska-Lincoln’s Women’s Resource Center has resigned. Katherine Araujo, who became coordinator in 1987 after one year as part-time student coordinator, said her efforts to open the center to di verse viewpoints have met with op position from the old, “somewhat closed” group of women who fre quented the center. “Change causes conflict,” said Araujo, who resigned al ihe begin ning of this semester. Although she would not identify those persons opposed to change, Araujo allegedly has been harassed in telephone calls al night, and her car has been vandalised. . Last Monday, someone melted chocolate and poured it on her car, she said. Araujo said she has encouraged more diverse groups, including men, to gel involved in the feminist cause, and to use the center’s library. In fall 1988, men called or visited the center about 80 time Araujo said, up from about 20 the previous semester. At that point, some loi g-time women users of the cct r allegedly began saying thint s like, “There are gay men in our center now,’’ and “What are we going to do about this?” Araujo said. Such statements contradicted the purpose of the center, Araujo said. “All of those forms of oppression uro ihinivv I Hill U/t* :ilI ripi'd to work *.a- 7— on,” she said. An increasing number of women using the ccnier. which has resulted in diverse viewpoints about women’s problems and their solutions, also has created conflict, Araujo said. Between spring and fall 1988, the number of limes women visited or called the ccnier rose from about 175 to about 250, she said. Any person, man or woman, who is willing to learn about and contrib ute to the center, should not be kept away, Araujo said. “Anyone who comes through that door should be supported,’ ’ she said, “because they’re a person.’’ Sara Boatman, director of the Office of Campus Activities and Programs, under which the center operates, said the center has always been open to new ideas. Boatman said three reviews ol the center conducted in the last live years showed that the center is diverse, and should continue to broaden. See ARAUJO on 5 William Lauar/Daily Nabraakan Eskridge From Marcos to Ted Bundy Own experiences inspired Eskridge to teach criminal justice ny mm iwresuneyer Staff Reporter As a 19-year-old mission ary in the Philippines, Chris Eskridge became all too familiar with injustice. * Eskridge worked on the island of Mindanao, where former Philip ine President Ferdinand Marcos had just declared martial law. To justify his declaration, Marcos had staged a fake battle the night be fore. The next day, Eskridge discov ered some Moslem friends of his had been taken to the beach the previous night and shot. Marcos legalized killing Moslems by call ing them * ‘enemies of the people --as justifiable as killing a rattle snake or a coyote,” Eskridge said. Later during his stay, Eskridge was walking one evening along the beach on the island of Luzon when a helicopter suddenly buzzed over head. ‘‘Someone yelled ‘Hit it!’” He said. He fell to the ground, sand spraying his face as bulk ts pelted the beach. The shooting stopped and Eskridge saw a little Moslem boy next to him *- one blown off, the other barely attached with blood squirting out in steady pulses. The boy ran frantically toward him, screaming for his grandmother, covering Eskridge Wlin DHXXJ. The boy died in his arms. For years, he couldn’t talk about this experience, Eskridge said. But ultimately, the experi ence convinced him to pursue a career in justice. “The whole concept of justice is so relative,” said the 36-year old associate professor of criminal justice. “In Ferdinand Marcos’ perspective, that was just. The whole field of justice became of interest to me.” Eskridge, vi no has taught crimi nal justice at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln for 11 years, first began work when he was 22, working for the Utah attorney general in the white-collar crime unit. He returned from the Philipi nes to Brigham Young University and gave up his original ambition of becoming a pediatrician. In stead, he enrolled in public ad ministration and law courses. He took a job in the Utah House of Representatives, and was later hired by the attorney general. At 23, he grew tired of commut ing from Brigham Young in Provo to Salt Lake City to work, Eskridge said, so he applied for a job at the Utah county attorney’s office. The county attorney was under pres sure to hire a white-collar crime investigator, and Eskridge had al ready worked with some of the people in the office. wnnoui tooKing ai ms creucn tials, Eskridge said, the county attorney immediately hired him. While his primary job was in white-collar investigations, he also had the chance to work on murder investigations, including one related to serial killer Ted Bundy. His position was something any other student like himself would have “given his right arm for,” Eskridge said. He had his own office, he had chief detectives from nine cities in the county working under him, and every day was exciting and different Riil Fskridire heuan to feel dis content with the criminal justice system. In school, Eskridge said, his professors taught him a black-and white view of justice - that the police and the law were right, and the criminals were bad. But work ing in the field, he began to sec a different view. “Justice is not a simple idea,” Eskridge said. * ‘One of the roles of the justice system is simply to maintain order, maintain the status quo and suppress the lower classes. If I had been taught this when I was in school, 1 would still be in the field today. But I wasn’t taught this, and when 1 hit it and saw it, I freaked out.” See ESKRIDGE on 11 Bundy case has personal aspect, Eskridge says By Lisa Twiestmeyer Staff Reporter Chris Eskridge’s under standing of serial-killer Ted Bundy comes from more than just a movie, a book or a newspaper article — it comes from personal experience. Eskridge, associate professor of criminal justice at the University of Nebraska-Lincoln, served as an in vestigator on a Utah murder case for which Bundy is believed to be guilty. Bundy is scheduled to die .n Flor ida’s electric chair today. He was convicted and sentenced to death in Lake City, Fla., in 1980 for the 1978 rape and murder of 12-year-old Kimberly Leach. He also received I (learn sentences tor tne Killings or two Florida Slate University soror ity sisters Eskridge said the Bundy investi gation was the first and only lime he had “ever worked on a case so bi zarre.” In fact, he said, as a 23-year old investigator in the Utah county attorney’s office in Utah, he had handled few murder cases because his specialty was white-collar crime. His involvement in the Bundy investigation began in 1975, he said, when he was asked to investigate the murder case of 19-year-old Laura Amie, who had disappeared on Hal loween night while hitchhiking to a party. Amie had been missing for two weeks when her body was found by a hiker in a mountain pass, Eskridge said. She had been beaten with a tire iron, he said, and her throat and wrists had been slit. The investigators were stumped because there were many potential suspects, he said. It was almost by accident that Bundy became a suspect. Bundy had been arrested for speeding in Salt Lake City, Eskridge said, and the sheriff there had heard ___ u I UIIIVS1 a tiuu pvuvv Ul n HOIIUI^IVNI were looking for a man named Teddy who drove a blue, discolored Volkswagen. Bundy fit the descrip tion and the sheriff decided to put Bundy in an identification line-up for a recent kidnapping attempt. The kidnap victim identified Bundy before he had even taken his place in line, Eskridge said. Bundy was held on suspicion of kidnap ping, and when Eskridge and the other investigators heard this, they began to focus on him as a suspect in the Amie murder. In November 1975, Eskridge and other detectives from several West ern states held a meeting in Aspen, Colo., to discuss unsolved murders SeeBUNOYoni
