re: What was LSU like during Derek Todd Lee's reign of terror?

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This was also around the time that a college student would go to various dorm rooms to cuddle with the girls and do the girls laundry and such while they were asleep

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THE SERIAL SNUGGLER

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I know Gina Green was left in her home on Stanford. Must be creepy to be the poor soul living in it now. Hell, it must be creepy living in any of the DTL homes. 

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Knew a girl that lived in this house after. Had the chance to possibly rent it when she moved. I couldn't have done it.

It is really scary to think of all the people that would have had contact with DTL. I personally know 3 women that had encounters with him. One lives in my neighborhood, and he tried to gain access to her house with the "utilities maintenance" excuse. The second interviewed him for a job. She called him back for a second interview and he failed to show. The other was his landlord.

We moved out of BTR just at time he started, we lived just down the road from Sharlo off brightside. I know when I came back to BTR on business female froiends were incredibly cautious. One sticks out, a friends daughter who I had known for 10 yrs would not answer theri door w/o her father there, she knew me personally and knew I was coming over for supper but still was incredibly nervous. Not sre I blame her and I would likely tell my daughter to act the same way. Check in calls were the the minimum from what i recall

I remember one day coming back home to Sterling from campus, police had Burbank completely locked down at Boyd and were walking from car to car looking at everyone inside. It was about a week after DTLs murder at that apartment off Burbank and the plan was to maybe catch him returning to the area.

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What was LSU like during Derek Todd Lee's reign of terror?

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It wasnt really that big of deal. You would talk about it and such but it never affected my everyday life.

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The college of business certainly remembers every year.

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It's a good thing. Here's something for all of you to digest. DTL needs to be dead by now.

Ann Pace(Murray Pace's mother) Impact Statement
Based on a law that went into effect in Louisiana in August 2004 -- thanks to Rep. Yvonne Welch -- victims or victims' family members may speak to the convicted offender without censor by the court or anyone else. I do not feel communication with Derrick Lee is possible as I consider him incapable of remorse or empathy -- or even concern for anyone other than himself. I have chosen to direct my statement to the jury in the case.

They told me she fought harder than we all can imagine and for longer than would seem possible against Derrick Lee -- so much bigger, so much stronger, that vicious, destructive coward of a man. The shock and horror she must have felt makes my insides feel crushed. The hideous fear. The terrible pain and hurt. She must have realized almost immediately that she was fighting for her life -- a life she wanted so badly and had worked so hard to have. A life she fought with everything in her to hold on to.

I had a friend tell me that when you are attacked like that, in the second it takes you to understand what is happening, you have lost already. The monsters like him know that, and they rip your life away while you try to catch your breath.

There was a pool of blood soaking the carpet in front of her half-eaten sandwich. She never had a chance.

She was and is my baby girl. I had to know everything I could know about what happened to her. I knew this would be hard knowledge -- unimaginably hard -- so I tried to brace myself with information. I took a forensics course, read all I could; talked with the coroner; then -- finally -- left home alone that Tuesday morning and drove from Mississippi to Baton Rouge to see the pictures of her last day. I thought I was as prepared as I could be. I just didn't know then that I could have as easily tried to prepare for the end of the world as be prepared for those pictures … for that knowledge.

The strength for this journey came from Murray. I felt she was with me helping me hear the story of how her life had ended. I felt she knew that this was the only way I had to fight for her. Before I left home, I took her picture from my dresser, a picture of the smiling, beautiful, blue-eyed girl who was such a miracle to us. I felt this to be an essential journey. Alpha and omega. I was with her in her beginning, and I needed to be there for her end in the only way I could, even if I was too late to save her.

She had always been so strong, stronger than me. I held my picture of her with her beautiful face looking at me and went into the district attorney's conference room and confronted those frightening pictures that told the story of her terrible, terrible suffering.

I held my breath and opened the packages of pictures.

I could have scraped my own skin off with my own fingernails with less pain that looking at the first picture of her little face. It was a paralyzing shock. I honestly thought I might not survive that moment. Then, when I could breathe, I told myself that she had endured this pain, this cruelty, this sacrilege to herself -- then I could survive the knowledge of what she had endured.

I tried to find Murray in what I saw.

It was hard to believe this terrible vision was my beautiful girl. Her eyes were gone … they weren't eyes anymore … truly not the beautiful blue eyes that sparkled and smiled and danced so when she laughed. His hideous cruelty had destroyed them. I could see her long eyelashes torn away and mashed into her eyebrows. She had a hole hacked into her forehead all the way to her brain. They had asked me what color her hair was. I understood now why. It was drenched in blood and that was the only color it had. He had hacked her ears in half and stabbed and stabbed and stabbed her little face. Her body seemed to be punctured a thousand times.

Her throat was slashed to her spine. She was still breathing and struggling to live when he did that. Then he raped her. He raped my beautiful, terrible dying baby.

What must that have been like? I ask you. What must that have been?

I thought I would explode with the horror of it. But, it wasn't over. There's another picture I shall never forget. It was a picture from Murray's autopsy, a picture of blue gloved hands holding something unrecognizable.

Suddenly, I understood what it was they held. It was Murray's heart. The blue-gloved hands held her heart.

Air won't go into your lungs when you look at that. I can tell you. It seems past bearing. It may be past bearing. It may be that inside myself I never really stand straight again, but am always bent with the burden of this … this awful thing that has changed the world.

Derrick Lee has robbed us of more than there are words for. We are broken without Murray; bereft without the gift of her life.

He's taken all this from us.

But from her, from Murray, he has taken everything she would ever do, everything she would ever be. She will not move to Atlanta and start her first real job, she will never know whether the person she loved so much when she died would turn out to be the person she loved forever, she won't laugh with the friends she treasured so much or ever make a new friend, she'll never gasp in wonder at the birth of her own child. She'll never open another Christmas present, never celebrate another birthday. She won't marry in the little church in Rolling Fork where her sister married -- she'll only be buried there.

Derrick Lee ripped all those days, all those moments, away from her when he destroyed her life.

Please understand that but for a random twist of fate, you could be here in the witness box, and I could be sitting there, where you are. You could be here desperately seeking justice for your wife, your sister, your friend, your mother … your child … We have no power to secure justice for Murray. You and you alone have that power. I beg you -- I beg you -- to be our sword of justice.

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Ronald Dominique being the most prolific

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Yea but again, the victims' high-risk lifestyle didn't garner the attention from LE,national media, nor the typical law-abiding productive member of society.

DTL went after business owners, students, housewives. That deprived the community of the sense of security and feeling that "if i'm living right, I won't be THAT guy's victim."

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BRPD/EBRSO, as usual, was a fricking joke. tons of illegal/random searches of males on the roads with forced DNA swabbing of pretty much any male in a white truck they could find (note: he was nto male and was not driving a white truck)

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I had a creepy as frick coworker at the time that always carried a knife and drove a white truck... I called the tip line, but my coworker was a white dude, needless to say not Derek Todd Lee.

You say high risk, I say roll of the dice lol