Tuesday, November 01, 2005
When parenting goes horribly, horribly wrong
The horror that is David Maust, behind perhaps the most notorious murder in Northwest Indiana, has finally come to an end, it seems; he took the plea and will now serve three consecutive life sentences at an undisclosed prison for the murders of Jimmy Raganyi, Michael Dennis and Nick James.
I'm proud to say that I was the one who broke the story to the world when it happened in December 2003; a source of mine called me to tell me that the Hammond Fire Department was going to the Ash street house to follow up on a suspicion that bodies were buried in its foundation. I immediately called the paper, and they ... gave it to staff writers to write, which is what they do on huge stories like that. But, since I was the correspondent who gave them the tip, they were cool and threw me a bone: Find the kid with a common Mexican surname in a predominantly Mexican neighborhood who was with Michael Dennis the night he decided to run away from home. I did it, too, on the first try, and that's still one of my best reporting memories -- that and the fact that I was the only correspondent the paper allowed to work on the story.
So anyway, I've worked on the story since then, covering vigils for the boys and whatnot. But reading the way this ended has made me incredibly sad, not for the kids' parents, because I've been sad for them since it happened. I'm sad for Maust. Seriously.
The following is taken from Post-Tribune crime beat correspondent and homegirl Ruthann Krause:
I'm proud to say that I was the one who broke the story to the world when it happened in December 2003; a source of mine called me to tell me that the Hammond Fire Department was going to the Ash street house to follow up on a suspicion that bodies were buried in its foundation. I immediately called the paper, and they ... gave it to staff writers to write, which is what they do on huge stories like that. But, since I was the correspondent who gave them the tip, they were cool and threw me a bone: Find the kid with a common Mexican surname in a predominantly Mexican neighborhood who was with Michael Dennis the night he decided to run away from home. I did it, too, on the first try, and that's still one of my best reporting memories -- that and the fact that I was the only correspondent the paper allowed to work on the story.
So anyway, I've worked on the story since then, covering vigils for the boys and whatnot. But reading the way this ended has made me incredibly sad, not for the kids' parents, because I've been sad for them since it happened. I'm sad for Maust. Seriously.
The following is taken from Post-Tribune crime beat correspondent and homegirl Ruthann Krause:










