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Authors: Lee Mellor

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Darkness soon descended upon the forest, and the decision was made to resume the manhunt at daybreak. Searching under such conditions would be fruitless and place the Mounties in danger of being ambushed by the crazed Nelson. The search continued at dawn. By 10:30 a.m., a pajama leg was fished out of Ezekiel Creek, in the area south of the access road to the forest. Nearby, the patrollers found a rope in one of the trees, surmising that Nelson had spent the previous night hidden there. By all appearances, somebody had been bound to the tree.

A further six hours of searching passed without result, and it wasn’t until one of the policemen decided to check the Nelson house that a vital clue emerged. Somebody had recently entered and left the dwelling by cutting the plastic around the window. Corporal Alan Marcotte, a specialist in fingerprints from Cranbrook, was sent to examine the scene. Circling the home, he discovered a trail of footprints leading into the woods. He followed them for almost thirty metres before stumbling upon Dale Nelson — asleep against a log at the edge of a clearing with his arms folded across his chest and his rifle propped up against a tree nearby. Deciding it was best to let sleeping lunatics lie, Marcotte returned to the house and informed the head of operations, Superintendent Terrance Stewart. The clearing was soon surrounded by armed policemen.

“Dale Merle Nelson — this is the RCMP,” they announced. “You are surrounded. Stand up, put your hands in the air, and walk toward the cabin. All units hold your fire.” Nelson remained unresponsive. When two similar warnings were repeated to no avail, Constable Glenn Marsden and his dog, Count, were sent in to make an arrest. The snarling canine got Nelson’s attention, but before he could reach for his gun, Count was upon him. The beast who had disguised himself for so long in human form had finally been taken down by an animal far more civilized than himself.

Crazy

Following his apprehension, Nelson confirmed everyone’s worst fears by shaking his head when asked if Cathy St. Amand was still alive. After sketching out a crude map of the area, and some deliberation, Nelson finally planted an
X
at the location of Cathy’s body. An hour later, she was discovered lying semi-prone, naked except for a t-shirt. Like Tracey, she had been partially disemboweled. Her skull had been fractured, and there was a vicious stab wound to her back. The pathologist, Dr. Otto Brych, determined that she had been sodomized after death. But Dale Nelson’s litany of ghoulish acts didn’t stop there. Brych noted that beyond her dismemberment, Tracey Wasyk’s vagina and heart had been removed and were still unaccounted for.

At Nelson’s trial, which commenced on March 22, 1971, in a packed forty-eight-seat Cranbrook courtroom, it was learned that he had choked Tracey unconscious, then eviscerated her alive. Once her stomach had been opened, Nelson had plunged his face into the bloody wound, gobbling up undigested pieces of cereal. With this considered, the notion that Dale had later devoured the girl’s heart and vagina seemed entirely plausible. Having battered their mother to death, Nelson had also forcibly performed oral sex on little Sharlene. When the RCMP cruisers had appeared at the Wasyk residence, he had fled into the bush, dragging the helpless eight-year-old with him. Fortunately, she had become snagged in the undergrowth and he had been forced to abandon her. Instead, once police had left the scene, he had absconded with her sister’s corpse. If Sharlene’s entanglement had not coincided with the timely arrival of the police, she would have undoubtedly suffered the same gristly fate.

Given the magnitude of his client’s depravity, it is unsurprising that defence attorney Michael E. Moran argued that Nelson had been utterly insane and therefore not guilty of the murders during his forty-hour killing spree. Yet Crown prosecutor T.G. Bowen-Colthurst posited a different theory: Dale’s repulsive acts were the result of extreme sexual perversion, behaviour that may appear crazy to normal people but did not meet the legal requirement of insanity. The jury chose to believe this explanation of events, and on April 1, 1971, found Nelson guilty of two counts of non-capital murder. He was sentenced to life imprisonment without the possibility of parole for ten years. In February 1999, Dale Merle Nelson died at Kent Institution in Agassiz, B.C., at the age of fifty-nine.

   

Kay Feely      

Jonathan Yeo

Mr. Dirt

“Shit is a higher level of life than I am.… I am the great septic tank of life.”

Victims:
2 killed/committed suicide

Duration of rampage:
August 9 to 14, 1991 (spree killing)

Locations:
Burlington, Ontario; Petitcodiac, New Brunswick

Weapon:
.22 -calibre rifle

The Other Son

He was a born reject — a rootless half-breed discarded by his mother and adopted by Mae and Raymond Yeo out of pity. At least that’s how “Mr. Dirt” viewed himself. Of his earliest days Jonathan knew only that he was born in Hamilton on September 21, 1958. The identity of his birth parents remained an eternal mystery. The Yeos had initially taken him into their home when he was four weeks old, but had to return him at twelve months because Mae was diagnosed with cancer. Three months later, they changed their minds and took him back again. It is more than likely that this instability and lack of affection during his formative years had damaging effects on Jonathan’s psyche, sowing the seeds of the killer who was to emerge later. Jonathan’s self-esteem took another blow when he was finally old enough to play outside. The working-class youths of Hamilton made it quite clear what they thought of his mulatto skin, mocking him with racial jibes. Whenever he was in the company of his younger, white adoptive brother, James, the duo was dubbed “Salt and Pepper.” Even at home, Mae reportedly called Jonathan “little chocolate boy” and “black baby.” It was certainly clear which brother got preference in the Yeo household. James Yeo sadly recounts that when he received a brand new bicycle for Christmas, Jonathan got a used one, seeming happy to get anything at all. The boys’ father Raymond, a painter at the Dofasco Steel mill, was withdrawn and emotionally unresponsive. He had little interest in rearing his sons. As the dominant parent, Mae beat the boys with a belt. Nevertheless, James’s wife Laura accuses her of letting the children run amok and failing to instill values. She describes the boys’ environment growing up as characterized by “backstabbing and lies.”

The instability in Jonathan Yeo’s life continued well into his school years. Growing up, he was forced to move to eight separate elementary schools and two high schools, ensuring he would never develop lasting friendships. No matter where he went he was constantly bullied, forcing him to sink inward, toward a ravenous fire growing in his heart. Jonathan fought constantly. In 1969, a particularly astute principal observed the boy’s social introversion, and recognized that he seemed to suffer from a crisis of identity. No action was taken. Instead, the Yeo brothers continued to express their individual frustrations, slashing tires or burning down abandoned buildings.

As the two reached high school they began to part ways. Where James was social, continuing to attract the attention of local law enforcement, troubled Jonathan withdrew into the sanctity of his room. Academically he was a disaster, failing grades nine and eleven. Of average intelligence and technically skilled, his grades reflected his lack of self-esteem. Any attempts to break out of his bubble met with embarrassing failure, sometimes violence. Though he excelled in cadets, where he first learned to handle a rifle, he had a reputation for exploding into sudden fits of anger. Later in life, when employed at Dofasco, he would earn the nickname Zulu Warrior for using an iron bar to close a valve in a sulphur tank. On other occasions they referred to him as Nuts, though nobody dared to say either insult to his face. His foreman remarked that Jonathan would “fly into a rage” if his equipment malfunctioned or if he made a mistake.

In 1978, Jonathan Yeo met his future wife, Sheila, through the militia. At first the heavy-set corporal didn’t take to Jonathan — although he was good-looking, she found his isolationism childish. As they spent more time together, she discovered that he had a good sense of humour and could actually be quite a gentleman. They began dating, and two and a half years later were married on December 27, 1980, settling into a home on the shores of Lake Erie. As a highly socialized, educated woman, Sheila provided structure and a sense of control in Jonathan’s personal life. There were already signs that he was beginning to slip. During his courtship he had grown obsessed with James’s ex-girlfriend Sandra, assaulting her in November 1979. Sheila was apparently unaware of his transgressions. Jonathan’s occasional use of marijuana, cocaine, and LSD was something she had resigned herself to, along with his extensive pornography collection. This last habit he had apparently picked up from his adopted father — when Sheila visited the Yeo house she was shocked by the number of pornographic magazines in plain view. One thing she absolutely would not stand for was drinking, and Jonathan seems to have honoured her wishes for a time.

Jonathan’s attitude toward women was ambivalent to say the least. The public face he presented was that of an old-fashioned moralist who believed that sex was fundamentally bad and that women should be housebound and dedicated to meeting their husbands’ needs. Matriarchs shouldn’t want to make love, since fornication was the province of whores. At the same time he experienced an overwhelming need for female acceptance, flying into a rage whenever a woman rejected him. In reality he was probably trying to keep his mind off sex, because for Jonathan Yeo lust was inextricably linked with rage and frustration.

In 1984 Sheila became pregnant. Breaking down in front of his brother James and James’s wife, Jonathan stated that he didn’t want a child and that Sheila had tricked him into it. Two weeks after the birth of his daughter, Jonathan began to vent his frustrations on other women.

A History of Aggression

Janet was a career-focused single woman living in Hamilton when she met the Yeos through her ten-pin bowling league. Her interest in Sheila’s husband never extended past sharing a beer after hitting the lanes. Unfortunately, he had different feelings. Sometime in 1983, Jonathan appeared on her doorstep, explaining that he was passing by and needed to use her phone. Puzzled as to how he had learned the address of her downstairs apartment, Janet nevertheless let him inside. Though there was nothing unusual about Jonathan’s behaviour, from that moment on he frequently dropped by to share her coffee and conversation. Then things started to get weird. One day out of the blue, he informed her he had broken up with Sheila and asked her if she wanted to go on a date. Janet declined, explaining that she didn’t get involved with married men. Or so she thought. Arriving home after visiting a friend one night, she found Jonathan standing in the lobby of her building.

“Where have you been?” his voice boomed. Terrified, Janet informed him that it was none of his business.

“Aren’t you going to invite me in for a coffee?”

“It’s too late,” she said firmly. “I’m going to bed.”

“Fine. We’ll go together.”

“No!”

But it was too late — Janet had already unlocked the door. Jonathan forced himself inside.

“All right, you can have one coffee but then you’re out of here,” she said, trembling.

While she prepared the coffee, he crept up from behind and began to kiss her. Whirling around, Janet thrust her knee as hard as she could into his groin. To her horror, instead of buckling, Jonathan seized a knife from the kitchen table and pressed it to her throat.

“You’ll be sorry.” His dark eyes flared like embers.

Hearing footsteps upstairs, Janet warned him that she was going to scream and it would only be seconds before her neighbour came to check on her. This seemed to get Jonathan’s attention. Saying nothing, he placed the knife down on the counter and slipped out the door.

Sadly, Janet’s ordeal was just beginning. Days after, Jonathan telephoned her to apologize for his behaviour. She accepted his apology but added that she never wanted to see him again and hung up. This did nothing to deter him; in fact, he called her so many times over the following days that Janet was forced to change to an unlisted number. On another occasion, she arrived home to find him chatting in the lobby with her neighbour Jim and told him to leave immediately. When he departed, she explained to Jim that he was stalking her. Jim told her to call him if he gave her any more problems.

One spring morning in 1984, after working the night shift, Janet awoke to go to the bathroom. As she rose, the closet door opened and Jonathan Yeo stepped out into the darkness. Screaming, she reached for her bathrobe, but he seized it away from her.

“You won’t be needing that!” Janet raced to the front door and had just unfastened the deadbolt when he grabbed her arm. She continued to scream, though she realized he had probably taken measures to ensure Jim was at work. Jonathan explained that he wasn’t going to hurt her, and told her to keep quiet. Then, for reasons unknown, he left without saying a word. Shaking with fear, Janet telephoned her father immediately. In turn, he contacted the police but learned they were powerless to do anything unless Jonathan physically hurt her.

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