Exposed EXTRA | 50 Shades of Evil: Washington - Ted Bundy

0:11 Welcome back. I am your host, Jim Chapman, and today I am bringing you another episode from the Fippy Shades of Evil series. This week we're going to the state of Washington, and real quick, when I say the name Ted Bundy, what is the first thing that pops in your head? If you, like most everyone, the answer is serial killer. And that's how infamous Ted Bundy was. Today I'm going to bring you into the shadows. I'm not just going to recount names and dates, but stare directly into the face of pure, unrelenting evil. Because Ted Bundy wasn't some shadowy monster hiding in the woods. He was the clean cut, charismatic lost to it with a winning smile, the guy who could charm his into a security house or a crowded park in broad daylight. He just looked like the boy next door and he sounded like the kind of man your parents would trust. And that, Folks, is exactly what made him so terrifying. So over this four part series, I'm gonna walk you through the entire dark path of his life, from the fractured secrets of his early childhood in Vermont through these seemingly normal teenage years that hit a growing storm of rage and violent fantasy, all the way to the calculated, sedistic killing spree that left more than thirty women dead, an entire generation of

1:45 college students living in fear. We'll revisit every documented murder in haunting detail. The brutal bludgeoning and sexual assault of Karen Sparks in her own basement, the savage abduction in dec capitation of Linda Ann Healy, donnah Manson, Susan Rancourt, Roberta Parks, Brenda Ball, George An Hawkins, the double murder at Lake Samamish, where Janisott and Denise Nassalind were taken in front of more than dozens of witnesses, and the heartbreaking losses that followed Nancy Wilcox, Melissa Smith, Laura Amy, and so many more. We will relive the courage of Carol Durranch, the only woman who ever fought her way out of his car alive. The shocking school play abduction of Debbie Kent, the Colorado murders of Karen Campbell, Julie Cunningham and Denise Oliverson the unthinkable killing of twelve year old Lynette Culver In fifteen year old Susan Curtis, snatched from a youth conference. And then we'll follow Bundy's first arrest, his two jaw dropping escapes from custody in the final Florida rampage that shocked the nation, the frenzied Kai Omega sorority house attack where he bludgeoned Margaret Bowman and Lisa Leviy to death and left the others fighting for their lives,

3:17 and the heartbreaking final murder of twelve year old Kimberly Leitch. I'm going to walk you through his dramatic trials with him representing himself in open court like some twisted legal celebrity, and you're gonna hear the moment the death sentences were handed down, and finally we'll step inside death row with Bundy. The confessions, the manipulation, the total absence of remorse, right up to that cold January morning in nineteen eighty nine when the electric chair ended the life of America's most notorious and evil predators. Throughout every minute of this series, we're gonna keep one truth front and center. Ted Bundy wasn't driven by uncontrollable sicknesses. He was driven by evil, cold, calculated, and completely without conscience. He chose every victim, he planned every detail, and he enjoyed every second of their suffering.

4:20 In this series, you're gonna hear details of those final moments that have rarely been shared out loud. You'll learn exactly how his charm was a weapon sharper than any knife, and you'll feel the terror he spread from coast to coast, a terror that still echoes in the lives of the families and survivors, many of whom are still with us today. Because evil doesn't always wear a mask. Sometimes it wears a smile, and it knocks on your door at night. So lock those doors, turn up the lights if you need to settle in, and let's get into it. I'm your host, Jim Chapman, and this is fifty Shades of Evil Washington, Ted Bundy, and as always, we're going to start at the very beginning with a baby born in Burlington, Vermont.

5:24 This was on November twenty fourth of nineteen forty six. Now, his birth certificate said Theodore Robert Cowell. No father was listed. His mother eleanor Louise cow Everyone called her Louise. She was twenty two. She was unmarried and living at the time, with an illegitimate child was considered a shameful secret that could destroy a family's reputation. So the Cow family they made a choice, a cold, calculated and really unbelievable lie that would shape everything that would come after. According to a lot of psychiatrists, Louisa's parents, Samuel and Eleanor Cale, they step in and they simply declared themselves the baby's real parents. Tem was told his mother was actually his older sister. The grandparents became mom and dad. The truth was buried so deep that even the boy himself would not learn it for many years. The household he grew up in was struck deeply religious and ruled with an iron fist by his grandfather, Sam Cow. Now Sam was a big, intimidating man. A church deacon, he preached fire in Brimstone on Sundays, and he ruled that home like a tyrant the rest of the week. Some say he had a violent temper. He would fly into rages at the slightest provocation, and it was known that he would

6:55 be cruel even to the family pets. Neighbors later described the Cow house as a place where fear and control were the only constants. Now, it's important to mention that much later in life. As a matter of fact, right before Ted Bundy met his demise, he would say he had the perfect upbringing. Now, at this time in Ted's life, Louise still pretended to be Ted's sister, lived under the same roof, working as a secretary, and she was trying to keep that secret intact. She was young. She was emotionally fragile and completely under her father's thumb. Ted would grow up watching his real mother treated like a subordinate in her own home. He later would admit in prison interviews that he felt a deep resentment toward that entire family dynamic, though of course he never took responsibility for how that resentment would twist inside of him. Now, on the surface, little Ted Kle looked like any other boy.

7:55 He was intelligent, he was polite to strangers, he did well in school, and when he was just four years old, that family moved to Tacoma, Washington. Now, at this time, no one knew that underneath that ordinary boy exterior, something was already fracturing. Psychologists who later studied Bundy's childhood they would point to a massive identity crisis created by the family lie Ted discovered the truth around the age of twelve or maybe thirteen, when he stumbled across his birth certificate. The betrayal hit hard. The people he trusted most had built an entire world on this lie. Now, instead of confronting them, he internalized them. He would compartmentalize this information, and he had an ability to compartmentalize that was off the charts even at this early age. And it was at this point that Ted began to build his own secret life. He would start to withdraw, he would become I'm obsessed with maintaining appearances, and he developed an intense fascination with how people perceived him, always needing to look perfect, always needing to be in control, and in the quiet moments when no one was watching, darker fantasies would start to take root. Fantasies of power, fantasies of dominance, of making others feel as powerless as he secretly felt inside

9:28 of his own home. So I want you to picture of this, a young, barely teenage boy. He's sitting alone in his room and to come to Washington. He's staring at that birth certificate and he's realizing that entire identity was fake. His mother wasn't even his mother. That moment didn't create a monster over night, but it planted the first seed of the cold detachment that would one day allow Theodore Robert Cowell, who would later change his name to Ted Bundy, look at young women in the eyes, smile that famous smile, and then bludgeon them to death without an ounce of remorse. Because when your entire childhood is built on a lie, the truth, between truth and illusion, well that becomes really easy to cross. Now, that broken foundation stayed hidden for years, but as Ted moved into his teenage years, the early cracks in that foundation begin to widen into something far more dangerous. So we're going to go to Tacoma in the early nineteen sixties. Now this was a working class neighborhood, modest homes, neatly trimmed lawns, in the constant sound of rain on the rooftops, because in Tacoma, Washington, it rains a lot. The Kyle family now called themselves the Bundies after Louise finally married a

11:02 hospital cook and his name was Johnny Bundy. They had settled into what looked like the perfect American suburban life. Ted, who was now a teenager was enrolled at Woodrow Wilson High School, and on the surface, he was the kid every parent would hope their daughter would bring home. He was tall, he was athletic. He was described as strikingly handsome by really everyone. He had kind of a boyish grin, clear blue eyes, and he could disarm people in seconds. Teachers would also describe him as exceptionally bright, a straight a student. When he bothered to apply himself, he would join the school's debate team, dive headfirst into Republican politics, and even work on local campaigns. As he would continue to age, he would shake hands and flash that charm like a seasoned politician. He also took up skiing, and he loved his ski and he became a pretty skilled downhill racer. He would spend weekends on the slopes of the Cascade Mountain and he looked every bet, the clean cut, all American boy. But behind that closed door in his bedroom, in the shadows of the neighborhood streets after dark, another Ted Bundy was taking shape. He started off like most

12:34 serial killers do, by peeping in windows on the girls in his neighborhood. Late at night. He would slip out of the house. He would move silently through the backyard. He would press his face against the windows and he would just watch young women undress. He also kept a collection of stolen pornography magazines hidden under his bed, and not the playboy version type. I'm talking darker porn showing scenes of simulated rape, etc. And the peeping in particular. This was not an innocent teenage curiosity for Bundy. They were rehearsals, practice runs, if you will, for the kind of power that he craved. And he later admitted in prison that he would fanicize for hours about breaking into homes, about having total domination over someone who had no idea that he was even there. And then he started stealing. Now, that started off small shoplifting, lifting cash from his parents' wallets, but it quickly escalated. Ted started stealing cars, and not joy riding for fun, but methodically. He would hot wire vehicles.

13:50 He would drive them for days, and then he'd just abandoned them in distant neighborhoods, just to see if he could get away with it. He forged documents, He would create fake ideas and driver's licenses so that he could move through the world without anyone really questioning who he was, and even if they did, he would give them fake information. He was building a secret identity, one that existed completely outside the rules that everyone else had to follow. By a senior year, that mask was starting to slip in ways that only a few people would notice. He had a cruel streak that would reveal itself in small, quick, vicious moments. He would torment smaller kids at school, and he would become somewhat of a bully. He once deliberately ran over a classmate's dog with his car, and he showed no emotion, absolutely none. When he under confronted him, he just laughed it off. He called it an accident, but the coldness in his eyes that would tell a completely different story. And then came Ted's firs serious relationship, the one that would ignite the rage that had been growing in him since childhood. And her name was Stephanie Brooks.

15:09 She was from a wealthy San Francisco family. She was beautiful, very sophisticated in everything Ted desperately wanted to be. He pursued her with everything he had, the charm, the intelligence, the political ambition, and for a while it worked. They dated seriously through his senior year and into the first year at the University of pugeant Sound. Ted was completely infatuated. He saw this girl as the ultimate prize, in proof that he had finally become the person that he would pretend to be. But Stephanie, she kind of saw those cracks in Ted's exterior. She noticed possessiveness, the jealousy, the way he tried to control every aspect of their time together.

15:58 And when she broke up with him, it shattered the illusion Ted had built. The rejection crushed him in that moment, the boy who had been lied to about his own birth. He felt the ultimate betrayal all over again, and he went into a dramatic spiral. He even dropped out of college temporarily. He would travel alone across the country and he would sink deeper into this secret world of violent sexual fantasies. He started reading true crime books and detective magazines that detailed brutal attacks on women. He would continue to practice breaking into homes. He stole more cars, he forged more documents, and the rage that rejection planted inside him did not fade. It grew. It turned into a cold, calculating hatred for the very women that he desired. He began to see women not as people, but as objects to be taken, used, discarded when they no longer served his need for power. Now think about this for a second.

17:06 I want you to kind of picture this. A handsome, intelligent, eighteen year old just standing on a dark to come a street. Maybe it's two o'clock in the morning, and he's staring up at a lit bedroom window, and his heart's pounding fast, not because he's scared, but with excitement. Every voyeuristic night was a dress rehearsal for this guy. Bundy was learning how to blend in and he was learning how to hunt. By the time he re enrolled in college, this time at the University of Washington in Seattle, that monster was no longer a fantasy. It was ready to step out into the shadows and become part of Ted.

18:00 So I'm going to take you to the early morning hours of January fourth, nineteen seventy four. It was a very cold night in Seattle's University district. It was the kind of Pacific Northwest winter night where the rain just never quite stops, it just turns into a freezing rain in its bone chilling Karen sparks. She was just eighteen years old. She was bright, she was ambitious. A freshman at the University of Washington, and she was studying to become a teacher. And she was the kind of young woman who lit up every single room that she walked into. Friends would describe her as warm, funny, just full of life, the girl who always had a kind word for everyone.

18:49 She loved dancing to her favorite records, and she dreamed of one day shaping young minds in a classroom of her own. Now she had long, dark flowing that would turn heads wherever she went in a really magnetic smile. She lived in a basement apartment on fourteenth Avenue Northeast, which was just blocks from the university campus, and it was your typical college setup, shared with a roommate who happened to be out of town that night. It was small, it was cozy, filled with posters of her favorite bands and textbooks stacked neatly on a desk. She went to bed early that night. She was tired from the holiday break.

19:33 She was excited to kind of get back in a rhythm and start that first full semester. She had no idea that evil was already circling her home, watching and waiting. Ted Bundy had been stalking the university dis stret for weeks. He knew these streets like the back of his hand. He had driven them in stolen cars, scoped out basement windows of sorority houses, in student apartments. He rehearsed his moves in the dark, and on this particular night, he chose Karen's apartment because it was vulnerable. The window was unlocked, the roommate was gone, and Karen she was alone, asleep and completely defenseless. Sometime after midnight, Bundy slipped through the basement window like a ghost. No noise, no fourced entry that will wake up the neighbors, and he moved through the small apartment with the precision of someone who had practiced that moment in their mind over a thousand times.

20:48 Karen never even moved as he stood by her bed, staring down at her whilst she was sleeping. In his hand a metal rod, a piece of the bed frame he had quietly dismantled right there in the room, essentially turning an innocent piece of furniture into a weapon of unimaginable cruelty. What happened next was pure unfiltered evil. Ted raised the metal rod and he brought it down on her skull with ferocious, repeated blows. The sound was dull, it was wet, It was just sickening thuds, and it filled that tiny room. Blood sprayed across the white sheets, the walls, in the floor. Karen's body jerked violently with each impact, but she never even had a chance to scream.

21:53 She was unconscious almost instantly. Her skull fractured in multiple places, her brain was from the trauma. But Bundy, he wasn't finished. The evil inside of him demanded more. He sexually assaulted her while she laid there, bleeding and broken, violating her in ways that can only be described as the work of a predator who saw another human being as nothing more than an object for sexual gratification. And then after it was all over, he simply left. Ted climbed back out of the same window he entered, walked calmly into the freezing Seattle night, and he disappeared. No panic, no remorse, no second thoughts, just the cold satisfaction of a man who had finally crossed the line from fantasy to reality and discovered that he liked it. Karen was found the next morning by a friend who had come by to check on her, and the scene looked like a slow waterhouse.

23:00 Blood soaked on the bed, pulled on the floor, streaked on the walls, and horrifying patterns. She was barely alive in a coma. Her face was swollen beyond recognition. Her body was covered with bruises and defensive wounds that showed that she had tried, even in unconsciousness, to curl away from the attack. Doctors at the hospital fought for hours to save her. She miraculously survived, but the damage was catastrophic and it was permanent, severe brain injury, loss of hearing, permanent facial disfigurement, years of rehabilitation, just to walk and speak again. The dreams of teaching, of a normal life, of falling in love, of starting a family, all of it stolen in a single night of calculated evil. Now I want you for a second to really feel the weight of this moment. Cairen Sparks was not a random SAE statistic. She was a daughter, a friend, a young woman with a whole future stretched out in front of her like an open road. And Ted Bundy, this charming, intelligent, seemingly harmless now lost in it. Chose her for no other reason than because he could, because her apartment was convenient, because she was beautiful, because he wanted to feel the power of destroying someone. This was not a crime of passion, This was not a momentary loss of control. This was

24:32 the first documented strike of a predator who had spent years sharpening his skills in the shadows. And the tear it unleashed across Seattle's university district was immediate, and it was profound. Young women started double checking their locks. Campus security calls would skyrocket. Parents would beg their daughters to come home. The university district wants a vibrant hub of youthful energy and late night study sessions. Well, it became a place of fear for women throughout that area. Bundy, meanwhile, he went back to his normal life, as if nothing ever happened. He attended classes, he smiled at people on the street. He refined his technique because this attack, this brutal, sadistic near murder, had only wetted his appetite. It proved to him that he could do it, that he could get away with it, and the rush of that absolute power was worth any risk. He was like a dog who gets its first taste of blood. There would be no turning back at this point for Bundy, and less than a month later he would strike again, but this time there would be no survivors. So I'm going to take you to February first of nineteen seventy four. This is just twenty eight days after the attack on care and Sparks the university district in Seattle. They were still

26:04 reeling from that attack. Young women were still sleeping with the lights on. Doors were still double bolted. Campus walkways that once felt safe now Carrie kind of an invisible weight about them. But Linda and Healey, she refused to let fear rule her life. At twenty one years old, she was a junior at the University of Washington, and she was majoring in psychology, a field she chose because she genuinely wanted to help people understand the human mind in heal from trauma. She was the oldest of three children, the golden child of a close knit family from the Seattle suburbs. She was beautiful, long, straight brown hair that fell past her shoulders, bright hazel eyes, and laughed that friends said could light up even the greyest of days.

26:55 Linda was the responsible one, the girl who worked part time at a local department store, volunteered with underprivileged kids, and dreamed of earning her master's degree in becoming a counselor. She had a steady boyfriend that she loved, a tight circle of girlfriend she confided in, and her future was bright. Now. She lived in a basement apartment at forty one forty three Twelfth Avenue Northeast, the same neighborhood where Karen Sparks had been attacked. This house was shared with several other students, but Linda's room was in the rear basement. It was accessible only by a small window and a private entrance, and it felt safe because it was kind of tucked away.

27:41 On the night of February first, Linda had gone out with friends for quiet evening dinner, maybe a few drinks, the kind of normal college life that every twenty one year old deserves. She returned home around midnight. She was tired, but she was content. She slept into her pajamas, she brushed her teeth, she turned off the lights, and she climbed into bed and the house was quiet. Her roommates they were already asleep upstairs. Everything was exactly as it should be, except ted Bundy had already chosen her. Now he had been watching the house for days. He knew the layout, he knew the window in the back was easy to reach, he knew Linda's schedule, And on this freezing February night, he returned, armed with the same metal ride he used on karen sparks, now cleaned and ready for its second use. Bundy moved like a shadow, no sound, no broken glass. He simply lifted that unlock window, slipped inside, and with the practice ease of a man who had rehearsed this exact moment in his mind for years, he stood at the foot of Linda's bed, and she never

29:15 even had time to wake up. He struck first with unbelievable force, the metal ride, coming down again and again on the base of her skull. The blows were precise, brutal, and relentless. Blood would soak the pillow, the sheets, and the carpet. Linda's body convulsed once, then twice, then went limp. But Bundy didn't stop there. The evil inside of him demanded total domination. He sexually assaulted her unconscious body with the same cold detachment he had shown careen, and then, in what would become a signature of his, he would care carefully wrap her body into her own bedsheets, lift her over his shoulders like a sack of laundry, and carry her out that window that he had entered. He took her to a secluded spot in the woods outside of Seattle, a place he had checked out in advance, and right there, in the freezing darkness, he decapitated her with a hack saw he had bought specifically for that purpose.

30:30 He removed her head with the calm precision of a butcher. He stripped her out of her night clothes, and then he scattered some of her belongings along what's none as Taylor Mountain to mislead investigators. He then buried what remained of her in a shallow grave before leaving. But get this, he actually goes back to her apartment and cleans it. He wipes down the blood as best he could, He remade bed. He even hung her bloody nightgown neatly in the closet and placed a single pillow over the worst of the stains on the mattress, And when a roommate woke up, the next morning and noticed that Linda was missing.

31:15 The room looked almost normal, just eerily empty. Linda's disappearance was reported immediately. Her family and friends were frantic. Search parties come to campus and the surrounding areas, but there was no body. It just seemed like she vanished into thin air. And it's important to remember, Linda Ann Heally wasn't killed in some impulsive rage. It was calculated. It was methodical. Bundy had learned from the Sparks attack. He had refined his technique. He had escalated. The decapitation wasn't just to hot evidence. It was an act of ultimate ownership in Ted's mind, a seeing her identity the same way his own identity had been erased by lies, he took her life, her future, her dignity, and then went back to his own apartment, showered, changed clothes, and shut up for class the next day. As if he hadn't just killed another human being in the most savage way imaginable, he was the very definition of psychotic. Now this murder marked the true beginning of Ted Bundy's killing Spury. Karen Sparks had survived, Linda Healy had not, and the monster had discovered that the rush, that he felt, the absolute power, the complete control, was better than any fantasy he had

32:46 ever had in his teenage years. He was no longer practicing. He was performing, and he was getting better with every performance. The university district went from uneasy to absolutely terrified. Young women started walking in groups, curfews were enforced at dorms. Parents would call their daughters every night. And as for Bundy, well, he was already scouting his next target. Less than six weeks later, on March twelfth of nineteen seventy four, he would strike again. This time, the victim was a nineteen year old college student named Donna Manson. Now the Evergreen State College in Olympia, Washington, It was known for its progressive, free spirited atmosphere. It was the place where students would march to the beat of their own drum. Experimental learning, political activism, and artistic expression all thrived at that school, and Donna Manson would fit right in. At nineteen years old, she was a sophomore studying environmental science in theater. She was described by everyone who knew her as vibrant, intelligent, and free spirited. Had long, dark brown hair that cascaded down her back, brown eyes, full of curiosity and a beautiful smile. She loved nature, music, philosophy in the environment.

34:12 Friends said she had a quiet confidence in a kind heart. She was close with her family, especially her mother, and often wrote letters home. Now keep in mind this is nearly twenty years prior to email even being a thing. Donna had dreams of working in conservation or maybe even pursuing acting, anything that would let her make a positive impact on the world around her. Just a really kind human. So on the evening of March twelfth, nineteen seventy four, Donna left her dorm room at McClean Hall to attend a jazz concert on campus, and it was a typical Tuesday night for her. She enjoyed the art scene, and she would often go to these events alone. She may have even been a little overconfident in the safety of her college community. She wore a dark turtle neck sweater, jeans, and a light jacket, and she told a friend she'd be back later that evening. She never made it home.

35:15 Ted Bundy had been expanding his hunting grounds after the success of his previous attacks in Seattle. He had started cruising college campuses farther south including Evergreen State College. Now, this was roughly sixty miles from Seattle, and he had perfected a new tactic, one that would become one of his signatures. He would wear his arm in a sling, or he would use crutches, making himself appear vulnerable and harmless. Then he would politely ask a young woman for help carrying something to his car, which was a Volkswagen Beetle tan and color, and it would become a mobile killing chamber.

35:58 That night, Bundy approached Donna with his disarming smile in this fake injury, and he came off charming, articulate, and non threatening, and Donna, being the helpful and trusting person that she was, she likely agreed to help him. Witnesses later would we call seeing a man matching Bundy's description speaking with a young woman near the concert area that it appeared entered his car voluntarily, but once inside that Volkswagen, his trap would shut. Bundy would drive her to a secluded wooded area outside Olympia. There, in the cold March night, he attacked her with the same brutality that he had shown Linda Healey. He would bludgeon her repeatedly with a heavy object, most likely a tire iron or crowbar that he kept in the car, and the blows were devastating.

36:56 He then sexually assaulted her, lifeless or die, and when he was finished, he disposed of her remains in a remote, heavily forested area near Lake Samamish, the beginning of what will be called his dump site for multiple victims, a term that I was personally disgusted with when I read it, but nonetheless a description Bundy would relay in later interviews. Donna Manson's disappearance triggered an immediate and massive search. Her mother flew up from California. Hundreds of students and volunteers combed the campus in the surrounding woods. Flyers with her smiling face were posted everywhere. But weeks turned into months with no sign of her, no body, no clothing, no evidence, just an empty dorm room and a missing young woman who had simply vanished after going to a concert on her own campus. It wasn't until almost two years later, in nineteen seventy six, that some of Donna's remains were discovered on Taylor Mountain, the same spot Bundy had used for Lynda Healy. Her skull showed the unmistakable signs of blunt force trauma. Donna Manson was not some anonymous victim.

38:16 She was a daughter who wrote loving letters home, a young woman with an artistic mind and a passion for protecting the environment. She was helpful, she was trusting, full of potential, and Ted Bundy exploited every bit of that goodness. He used her compassion against her. He looked into her eyes, smiled, and then destroyed her without a shred of hesitation or guilt. And this murder, in my opinion, showed how Bundy was continually evolving. He was no longer limiting himself to late night breaks. He was now confidently abducting women in public, using his charm as the ultimate weapon. His confidence was growing, his methods were becoming more sophisticated, and his evil was becoming more brazen. Just a month would pass when, on April seventeenth of nineteen seventy four, Ted Bundy would strike again at another Washington campus. Let's go to April seventeenth of nineteen seventy four, and I'm going to take you to Central Washington State College. This is in Ellensburg, Washington, which sits about ninety miles east of Seattle, a smaller, more intimate campus nestled in the high desert foothills of the Cascade Mountains. It was the kind of place where students knew each other by name and the community felt very tight knit and very safe. Susan Rancourt she was

39:47 just eighteen years old, a freshman honor student majoring in psychology, the same field Linda Healy had been studying. Susan was the quintessential girl next door, petit shoulder length, dark brown here in a warm smile. She was deeply involved in the campus life, a member of the Young Republicans, active in her dorm, and known for her quiet, determination and kind heart. Friends would describe her as responsible, studious, and full of ambition. She game from a very loving family in the small town of Enomclaue, Washington, and she had chosen Central Washington because it felt like the perfect stepping stone toward her career in counseling and social work. Susan wanted to help people. She believed in the goodness of others, and that belief would ultimately be her undoing. April seventeenth was a somewhat mild spring evening on that campus. Susan had spent the day in classes, and she was headed to a meeting at the student government building. She was wearing a light jacket, jeans, and her usual practical shoes, nothing flashy, just a typical college student moving through or evening with purpose. The quad was still busy, students going and coming from the library, the cafeteria and all their evening activities. And it was public, well lit in places, and it should have felt safe. But Ted Bundy had driven the seventy miles from Seattle specifically to hunt here.

41:21 Now by this point he had refined his technique even further. No more risky basement break ins for Ted. Instead, he used the ultimate weapon in his arsenal, his charm and a carefully staged vulnerability. Again, he appeared on that campus with his left arm in a sling, looking every bit the harmless, slightly injured college guy who just needed a little help. Witnesses later recalled seeing a tall, handsome young man with an arm and a cast or sling, politely asking young women for assistance carrying books to his car, helping him with the stuck door on his Volkswagon Beetle, which was parked nearby. Teb was calm, articulate and completely non threatening. He blended in perfectly with that student population and Susan Raincourt. She was walking alone across that campus when he approached her. The conversation was brief, polite, almost mundane.

42:18 He probably said something like, can you help me for a second. With that disarming smile and the fake injury, the easy charm that made refusal seemed somewhat rude, Susan, who was raised to be helpful and trusting, likely said yes without hesitating. She walked with him toward the parking lot, but once they reached that ten Volkswagen Beetle, that mask dropped. Bundy struck her with lightning speed, smashing her in the skull with a heavy object that he kept in the car, most likely that same tire iron or crowbar he had used before, and the attack again was vicious and efficient.

43:07 Susan never had a chance to scream or fight back in any meaningful way. He forced her into the car. He drove her to a remote wooded area miles away, and there he finished what he started. The murder was savage, Like his other victims, a sexual assault followed his release. He craved so badly after every murder and then, like the others, he disposed of her body in a shallow grave on Taylor Mountain, that same ground he had already used for Lenda Healey and Donna Manson. And much like other serial killers, Bundy took souvenirs, item of clothing, perhaps jewelry, small trophies that would feed his growing need for control even after the kill. And it would be discovered much later on, just before his demise, that Bundy would actually revisit these victims after he would bury them in these shallow graves over and over again. So the next morning, Susan's friends noticed that she was missing. She had never returned to her dorm. Her books and her purse were gone, but there was no note and no signs of a struggle on campus. A massive search began almost immediately. Helicopters, bloodhounds, hundreds of volunteers would come the foothills and the campus grounds.

44:39 Her family would drive up, Their faces etched with terror flyers with Susan's smiling senior photo would blanket the region. But there was nothing, nobody, no witnesses, no one who could connect those dots. Just a bright young woman who had vanished seemingly in the thin air on a college campus that now felt cursed, and I want you to pay close attention to the calculated evil in this one. Ted Bundy didn't lurk in the shadows waiting for a victim to walk by. He walked right into a crowned college campus in broad evening light, used his fake injury and his charm to lure an honor student into helping him, and then destroyed her life in seconds. He chose that public setting deliberately. It heightened the thrill for him. It proved he could operate in plain sight and still get away with it. The psychological tear this spreads across all Washington colleges at this point is pretty devastating. Students who felt safe walking to evening meetings. They would now move in packs. Parents would actually pull their daughters out of school, and campus security lines were jammed with fright and calls.

46:01 All the meanwhile, Bundy drove back to Seattle, cleaned up, and resumed his normal life as a law student and political volunteer, probably smiling at the newspaper headlines about the quote missing co ed. This was the very moment that the pattern became obvious. If you've been paying attention in this podcast. Young women, all of them, all with law dark hair, and every attack on a college campus, the charming stranger with the injury, the Volkswagen Beetle. But unfortunately law enforcement they were still connecting dots because some of these attacks occurred in separate jurisdictions. But Bundy's evil was accelerating an alarming pace, and just three weeks later, on May sixth of nineteen seventy four, he would strike again, and this time he would cross state lines into Oregon.

46:58 So Oregon State University was a world away from the bustling university district of Seattle. It was quieter. It was a more rural campus, surrounded by rolling farmland and evergreen forest, and students there came for the strong agricultural and forestry programs that college offered. They also went for a sense of community and for the promise of a solid future and a state known for its natural beauty like Oregon. ROBERTA. Parks was twenty years old. She was a sophomore majoring in religious studies and a minor in psychology, and she was the middle child of a close, loving family from Eugene, Oregon.

47:40 She was the kind of daughter who called home every Sunday. She would write long letters about her classes. She dreamed of one day working in pastoral counseling or the youth ministry. Friends would describe her as a gentle, introspective, and deeply compassionate young lady with a quiet strength that drew people to her. She had long, straight, black hair that reached the middle of her back, soft brown eyes, and a smile that made her feel approachable and trustworthy. And Roberta wasn't the party type. She preferred deep conversations, long walks in the woods, and volunteering with campus faith groups. She had plans for graduate school, and on May sixth of nineteen seventy four, she was simply trying to live that ordinary, hopeful college life. It was a mile Monday evening, and Roberta had spent the day in classes, and she was headed across campus toward a late afternoon meeting at the student union. She would wear light sweater, jeans, and comfortable shoes, nothing that would draw attention. The campus was still active, students were milling about, heading to the library or study groups.

48:53 It felt safe, It felt familiar, in the kind of place where a young woman could walk alone and not even have have a second thought, but ted Bundy. He had driven in from Seattle and crossing into Oregon specifically to hunt a new victim. Now by this point, Bundy had perfected that routine like a seasoned actor. His arm in a sling, polite, slightly awkward smile. The VW Bug parked just far enough away to see Menison. He approached Roberta with the same disarming, vulnerable smile he had used on Susan rain Corps and probably said, excuse me, can you help me carry these books to my car? My arm's broken. The voice was calm, educated, trustworthy, the kind of request that may have made her feel like saying no would just be inconsiderate, So Roberta said yes. She walked with him toward the parking lot, probably chatting lightly along the way like any polite college shit it would.

49:57 Witnesses would later remember seeing a tall, handsome young man with his arm in a sling, speaking with a young woman who matched Roberta's description. No screams, no struggling public, just two people walking together like it was the most normal thing in the world. But once they reached that tan Volkswagen once again figurative mass the Bundy war vanished in an instant. Bundy would strike her with the same calculated savagery that had become his trademark. A heavy blow to the head with either a tire iron or a crowbar, and immediately Roberta's body crumbled. He forced her inside, drove her to a secluded wooded area miles away, and there, in the growing darkness of the Organ forest, he unleashed the full horror, repeated crushing blows to skull, and the sexual assault that always followed, a complete and utter domination of a young woman who only wanted to help. When he was finished, he disposed of her body in his shallow grave and once again on Taylor Mountain, bringing her all the way back into Washington, the same ground he had already used for Lenda Heally, Dono Manson and Susan Raincourt.

51:28 He again scattered a few personal items around the mountain to confuse searchers, and kept small souvenirs for himself, feeding the growing collection that satisfied his need for control. Long after the kill, Roberta's disappearance was reported Within hours. Her roommates noticed that she never returned from that meeting. Her family drove up from Eugene in an absolute panic. Again, flyers went up search for He's looked everywhere. Helicopters flew over the area, but there was nothing, nobody, no witnesses who could yet identify the charming stranger in a sling.

52:10 Just another bright, compassionate young woman erased from this earth in a matter of minutes. And this is where the growing evil becomes impossible to ignore. You see, Ted Bundy wasn't content to stay in even one state anymore. He was deliberately crossing borders, expanding his hunting grounds, proving to himself he could operate anywhere, anytime and still be invisible. He was getting off on the fact that no one had a clue who he was where. Berta Parks wasn't chosen because she was in the wrong place at the wrong time. She was chosen because she was exactly his type, long, dark hair, trusting kind, and because her compassion was the perfect weapon he could use against her. He looked into her eyes, used her good nature as bait, and then destroyed her without even a flicker of hesitation or guilt.

53:07 He was a predator, refining his craft, testing how far he could push the boundaries and getting off on the growing terror he was spreading across the entire Pacific Northwest, and the fact that he now crossed state lines also added to the confusion for authorities. Now we are not talking about just different jurisdictions, we're talking about different states. But Bundy, he was counting on that chaos. It was pre planned, and while families grieved in campus is locked down, he simply drove home, cleaned that car, and continued his life as the charming, ambitious law student everyone thought they knew.

53:48 Less than a month later, on June first, nineteen seventy four, he would strike yet again. Brenda Ball was twenty two years old, a free spirited young woman living in the heart of Seattle's university district. She wasn't a college student like so many of Bundy's other victims. She was out in the real world, working on jobs and trying to find her place. Friends would describe her as vibrant, out going, and full of laughter. She had long, straight, brown hair that fell well past her shoulders, exactly the look that seemed to draw ted Bundy in like a magnet. She had warm eyes a playful personality that made her popular among the local bar crowd. But life hadn't always been easy for her, but this girl she faced it with resilience and hope. She loved music, dancing, late night conversations with friends, and she dreamed of one day settling down, maybe starting a family, maybe traveling. And on June first of nineteen seventy four, she was just trying to enjoy a Saturday night the way thousands of other young adults did in Seattle. A few drinks, good cou company, and a ride home at the end of it. She had spent the evening at Flame Tavern, which was a popular dive bar near the University district. It was known for its cheap drinks and its loud jukebox. Yes they had jukeboxes in those days. Now the place was packed that night, live music, cigarette smoke hanging thick in the air, people

55:21 laughing and shouting over the noise, and brenda. She had a few drinks, she danced a little, and around two am she decided it was time to head home her friends. They offered her a ride, but she kind of waved them off. It was only a short distance and she just figured she'd hitchhike. Now, while this may sound absolutely crazy. Today. It was nineteen seventy four, y'all, and hitchhiking was common, almost casual. People loved meeting strangers in those days. She stepped out into the cool, misty Seattle night. Her hair was slightly damp from the rain. She sticks her thumb out and she looks for a ride. Well ted Bundy.

56:05 He had been cruising that area in that ten Volkswagen Beetle. He was trolling exactly for this kind of opportunity. He sees her, He pulls over and he flashes that disarming smile, and Brenda climbs in and she was relaxed, maybe a little buzzed, even chatting easily with this handsome, well spoken young man behind the wheel of that beetle. Bundy was calm, charming, completely in control. He didn't need to force anything. She got in willingly. So he drives her to a secluded wooded area several miles away, a remote spot off the main roads, where the only sound you really can hear are the rain on the leaves in just the distant hum of traffic. And once there he changed into evil.

57:04 He bludgeoned her with savage, repeated blows from that same heavy tron he kept in the car, and the attack was brutal and efficient, the same kind of overwhelming violence designed to eliminate any chance of resistance. Brenda never stood a chance. He sexually assaulted her while she either lay dying or was already dead, then disposed of her body in the same casual indifference that you may throw out the trash. Again. He left her in a shallow grave on Taylor Mountain, but no elaborate cover up this time, no need. He simply drove away, cleaned that car the next morning, and went about his business as if he just hadn't erased a whole life from a young woman in a matter of minutes. Brenda's disappearance was reported the next day when she failed to show up for work or call her friends. Her family and loved ones, of course, were immediately terrified because it just wasn't like her. No witnesses who remembered a specific car or man driving it, just another woman who had vanished after a night out.

58:17 Another name added to the growing list of missing women in the Pacific Northwest. In this murder, it revealed something especially chilling about Ted Bundy's evil Unlike the carefully staged campus abductions. Brenda Balls killing. He didn't plant days in advance. He didn't need a fake an injury, or have that whole polished routine. He just saw a vulnerable young woman on the side of the road and took her because he could, because the urge was there and the opportunity presented itself. The casual way he disposed of the remains, the complete absence of remorse or even a second thought, just shows how far this monster had evolved. Brenda wasn't a project or carefully chose victim. She was simply convenient, and that made her death even more horrifying, proof that no one else was safe, not even for a two minute hitchhike after a night out. And this killing also showed Bundy's growing arrogance. He was operating in the same city where police were already investigating multiple disappearances, yet he felt untouchable. While families grieved and the city grew more fearful, he continued his double life. He attended classes, volunteered on political campaigns, charming every single person he met, all while his collection of trophies from the dead grew in secret,

59:51 and just ten days later, on June eleventh, nineteen seventy four, he would strike again. This time he would target a bright, young University of Washington student named George Ann Hawkins, and the terror was about to get even more personal. In next episode, we will continue on with the evil that is Ted Bundy. Already five murders and one near murder in just six months, and the pace and frequency of these killings would only increase as we go along in this story. Thank you so much for listening. As always, check out the Patreon for commercial, free early releases and more at patreon dot com. Slash Bloody in Gola podcast and until next time for Bloody and Gola, I'm Jim Chapman.

1:00:45 Much love,