Faces of Evil. Lois Gibson
Copyright © 2005 Lois Gibson and Deanie Francis Mills
All rights reserved. No portion of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form whatsoever, including electronic, mechanical or any information storage or retrieval system, except as may be expressly permitted in the 1976 Copyright Act or in writing from the publisher. Requests for permission should be addressed to:
New Horizon Press
P.O. Box 669
Far Hills, NJ 07931
Gibson, Lois and Deanie Francis Mills
Faces of Evil:
Kidnappers, Murderers, Rapists and the Forensic Artist Who
Puts Them Behind Bars
Cover Design: Robert Aulicino
Interior Design: Susan M. Sanderson
Library of Congress Control Number: 2004108083
Hardcover edition, 2005
Mass market paperback edition, 2007
Tradepaper edition
eBook edition ISBN-13: 978-0-88282-523-6
New Horizon Press
20 19 18 17 16 1 2 3 4 5
This book is dedicated to the survivors
of violent crime everywhere.
May you find sweet justice
and, at last, may you know peace.
“...it is a rare and shattering experience...to gaze into the face of absolute evil.”
Carl Jung
Phenomenology of the Self
“One picture is worth ten thousand words.”
Anonymous
Table of Contents
Authors’ Note
Acknowledgements
Preface
Part I: My Life
Chapter 1 Angel Doe
Chapter 2 “We’ll Have to Date Again”
Chapter 3 “If I Can Just Get off That L.A. Freeway without Getting Killed or Caught”
Chapter 4 “Total Failure”
Chapter 5 Breaking and Entering
Chapter 6 WANTED: Dead or Alive
Chapter 7 Blind Justice
Chapter 8 Portrait of a Serial Killer
Chapter 9 “Some People Just Need Killin’”
Chapter 10 Tricky Drawings, Successful Endings
Chapter 11 “Look Mommy! It’s a Picture of Daddy!”
Chapter 12 A Look of Murderous Rage
Chapter 13 Catching KAOS
Part II: My Mission
Chapter 14 Making the Case for Forensic Art
Chapter 15 What You Need to Know to Become a Forensic Artist
Epilogue
Update
Resources
This book is based on the experiences of Lois Gibson and reflects her perceptions of the past, present and future. The personalities, events, actions and conversations portrayed within the story have been taken from her memories, court documents, interviews, testimony, research, letters, personal papers, press accounts and the memories of some participants.
Although all the crimes depicted in this book are a matter of public record, the names and a few identifying characteristics of the victims have, in most cases, been changed in order to protect their privacy. Events involving the characters happened as described. Only minor details have been altered.
To my husband Sid and children Brent and Tiffany; you are my life.
Lieutenant Don McWilliams, Diane Denton, Captain Bobby Adams, Sergeant Douglas Osterberg, Chief Jerrie Stewart, Lee P. Brown, Judge Sam Nuchia, Captain Richard D. Williams, Lieutenant Thomas C. Jennings, Captain Dale Brown, Deborah Goldman, Marsha Johnson, Dr. Sheryl Green, Dr. Sharon Garner-Brown, Pam Holak, Lizzy and Tom Hargrove, Skip Haynes, Mark Vabulas, Priscilla and Angela, Liz Scardino, Christa Hardin, Lin Mills, Adonna, Laura, Mark, Brent and all the detectives with whom I’ve worked a case that you solved.
Lastly, to the savage criminal who attacked me, know that you didn’t destroy me. In fact, you helped transform me into an artistic dynamo whose sketches have taken down over a thousand evil creatures like you and given the means to their victims to gain justice.
People often ask me if I have nightmares.
They wonder how I can possibly sit through the constant parade of murderers, rapists, robbers, pedophiles and swindlers who march across my drawing board each day without being haunted by their faces in the depths of night.
Of course, I don’t just see evil faces. I also see the carnage their evil leaves behind, on the faces of their victims, in their eyes and on their bodies. Those of us who work in law enforcement often become what I call “secondary victims” of the violence we see each and every day of our lives.
And I see more than most.
As the only forensic artist for more than twenty-one years in one of the largest police forces in America—the Houston, Texas Police Department—I get the worst of cases—mutilations, murder, rape—an endless stream of misery that flows like tears through the various divisions of the department and pools at the door of my office.
Whereas a homicide detective may juggle three murder cases in a given week, I sometimes see that many in a day. I schedule them in with rapes, muggings, robberies and emergency cases that yank me out of bed in the middle of the night.
But when people ask me if I have nightmares, I say no. Not usually, anyway. The dead-eyed mug-shot stares of the killers and criminals whose faces I draw don’t stalk my dreams, because I know that, as the Apostle Paul put it, “faith is the evidence of things unseen.”
I’ve worked with the victims of those criminals and together we’ve taken something unseen—their tortured memories—and created evidence: a likeness of their attacker. I have faith, then, that law enforcement officers can take that likeness and use it to track down the bad guys. When they do, then I have empowered those victims and helped them to become something they never thought they would be: survivors.
Through my gifts and my labors, these survivors find, to their surprise, that they have been able to think what had been—up until then—the unthinkable and to take control of what had been uncontrollable. And when news comes that we’ve caught the bad guy, believe me, I sleep like the proverbial baby.
I haven’t just done my job; I’ve fulfilled my calling.
However, there is one aspect of my work