The young man stands in the sunwashed kitchen, sweat still drying on his skin. He cannot take his eyes from the young woman standing a few feet away, the young woman dressed only in a T-shirt and a plastic garbage bag wrapped around her waist. The young woman holding a gun on himself and his mother.
The young woman is agitated, fretting. She claims to have been raped, and to have shot her rapist, but she will not allow them to call 911 and refuses their offer of clothing. And she will not put the gun down. All that she will do is call her mother on the phone and say, “Mother, it's bad.”
When the man asks to speak to her mother, the young woman passes him the phone. But the woman on the other end of the line is calm, almost to the point of being disinterested. Her husband is not home, and she does not have a car, so she has no way of getting there to help her distressed daughter. No, she cannot take a cab. He cannot believe his ears. Her daughter has been raped, has killed a man, and is now in his home, threatening him and his mother with a gun. But no, she insists, seeming to find nothing noteworthy or distressing about his words.
As the young man stares at the intruder, sunlight gleaming off the handgun in her grip, he hears her mother say, “Make sure she gets home safe.”
Join us as we take a deep dive into the infuriating and tragic story of Laurie Dann and Nicky Corwin, and see just how the rampage of May 20, 1988 could have been prevented.
The young man stands in the sunwashed kitchen, sweat still drying on his skin. He cannot take his eyes from the young woman standing a few feet away, the young woman dressed only in a T-shirt and a plastic garbage bag wrapped around her waist. The young woman holding a gun on himself and his mother.
The young woman is agitated, fretting. She claims to have been raped, and to have shot her rapist, but she will not allow them to call 911 and refuses their offer of clothing. And she will not put the gun down. All that she will do is call her mother on the phone and say, “Mother, it's bad.”
When the man asks to speak to her mother, the young woman passes him the phone. But the woman on the other end of the line is calm, almost to the point of being disinterested. Her husband is not home, and she does not have a car, so she has no way of getting there to help her distressed daughter. No, she cannot take a cab. He cannot believe his ears. Her daughter has been raped, has killed a man, and is now in his home, threatening him and his mother with a gun. But no, she insists, seeming to find nothing noteworthy or distressing about his words.
As the young man stares at the intruder, sunlight gleaming off the handgun in her grip, he hears her mother say, “Make sure she gets home safe.”
Join us as we take a deep dive into the infuriating and tragic story of Laurie Dann and Nicky Corwin, and see just how the rampage of May 20, 1988 could have been prevented.