Sylvia was $35 in medical bills. It was the “problems with Sylvia” that were causing her asthma and nervous anxiety,and some hyperventilation blackouts that Stephanie was suffering at the time, she reasoned.
Since what the neighborhood children believed was generally what Gertrude had told them (she was their friend, just one of the girls), and Sylvia never asserted herself enough to tell her own side of the story, the children generally sided with Gertrude against Sylvia. A game developed in which, at one time, more than ten children participated in beating, kicking and flipping Sylvia and burning her with matches or cigarettes. Johnny Baniszewski and Randy Lepper took turns punching her in the face. Even Jenny was forced into the act. “Get over and slap your sister,” Gertrude ordered. Jenny hesitated; so Gertrude slapped
her
on the face. Jenny slapped Sylvia’s cheek, using her left hand in an effort not to hurt her.
Once when Judy Duke slapped Sylvia, having been informed that Sylvia had called her a bitch, Shirley Baniszewski ripped open Sylvia’s blouse. Richard Hobbs wandered into the kitchen, remarking, “Everybody’s having fun with Sylvia.” That was when Anna Siscoe “had fun” stomping and clawing Sylvia, kicking her in the stomach. When Sylvia cried, “Oh, my baby!” it was more than Judy could take. She went home sick.
Mrs. Wright was not sick, but she did call a living room conference of the children on October 1 to announce, “We’re all going to have to learn to get along better.” Sylvia and her friend Darlene McGuire were there. “My girls and I have plans, Sylvia,” Gertrudeexplained, “and we don’t want you to interrupt them.”
Paula had her own solution. The middle of September, she had taken Sylvia to the back door, saying, “Get away and stay away. Get out for your own safety.” Sylvia did not know where to go; this was the only home she knew at the time. She stayed.
A few days after Gertrude’s living room conference, Sylvia and Jenny’s parents came to visit them before leaving with the carnival for Florida. Mr. Likens gave Mrs. Wright another $20, and he gave Sylvia some money for shoes. He and his wife had brought both Jenny and Sylvia some school clothes.
The girls mentioned that they were hungry. Reports had been circulating the neighborhood that Sylvia had been seen eating out of garbage cans. The girls’ parents took them out for a Coke.
Likens told Mrs. Wright he was due back in three weeks; it was then October 5, 1965. The next day would be Sylvia’s last at Tech High School. Two and a half weeks later, Mrs. Wright would receive the last concerned notice from the school administrators, asking whether there was anything they could do to help. Three weeks to the day after the Likenses’ last visit—on October 26—their daughter would die.
NO MORE than four feet from the Baniszewskis’ back door stood another frame house, owned by the same real estate company and rented at the same price, $55 a month. All the rentals along New YorkStreet were packed closely together. The inhabitants were a restless lot, moving in and out frequently. The houses were run-down, dirty, and in need of paint. It could not be classified a slum area, but it did not make the grade of “middle class” either. No one was particularly happy to be living there.
Into the house next door, at 3848 East New York, moved Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Vermillion and their two children around the end of August. A couple approaching middle age, Vermillion and his wife, Phyllis, had hoped for something more middle class. But it was a home.
Mrs. Vermillion, a rather attractive woman in earlier years, worked on the night shift at the huge Radio Corporation of America plant on Sherman Drive, not far away. One of her first chores in the new location was to find someone to care for her children. Shortly after breakfast the first day she was settled, she called on her next-door neighbor, Mrs. Gertrude
Since what the neighborhood children believed was generally what Gertrude had told them (she was their friend, just one of the girls), and Sylvia never asserted herself enough to tell her own side of the story, the children generally sided with Gertrude against Sylvia. A game developed in which, at one time, more than ten children participated in beating, kicking and flipping Sylvia and burning her with matches or cigarettes. Johnny Baniszewski and Randy Lepper took turns punching her in the face. Even Jenny was forced into the act. “Get over and slap your sister,” Gertrude ordered. Jenny hesitated; so Gertrude slapped
her
on the face. Jenny slapped Sylvia’s cheek, using her left hand in an effort not to hurt her.
Once when Judy Duke slapped Sylvia, having been informed that Sylvia had called her a bitch, Shirley Baniszewski ripped open Sylvia’s blouse. Richard Hobbs wandered into the kitchen, remarking, “Everybody’s having fun with Sylvia.” That was when Anna Siscoe “had fun” stomping and clawing Sylvia, kicking her in the stomach. When Sylvia cried, “Oh, my baby!” it was more than Judy could take. She went home sick.
Mrs. Wright was not sick, but she did call a living room conference of the children on October 1 to announce, “We’re all going to have to learn to get along better.” Sylvia and her friend Darlene McGuire were there. “My girls and I have plans, Sylvia,” Gertrudeexplained, “and we don’t want you to interrupt them.”
Paula had her own solution. The middle of September, she had taken Sylvia to the back door, saying, “Get away and stay away. Get out for your own safety.” Sylvia did not know where to go; this was the only home she knew at the time. She stayed.
A few days after Gertrude’s living room conference, Sylvia and Jenny’s parents came to visit them before leaving with the carnival for Florida. Mr. Likens gave Mrs. Wright another $20, and he gave Sylvia some money for shoes. He and his wife had brought both Jenny and Sylvia some school clothes.
The girls mentioned that they were hungry. Reports had been circulating the neighborhood that Sylvia had been seen eating out of garbage cans. The girls’ parents took them out for a Coke.
Likens told Mrs. Wright he was due back in three weeks; it was then October 5, 1965. The next day would be Sylvia’s last at Tech High School. Two and a half weeks later, Mrs. Wright would receive the last concerned notice from the school administrators, asking whether there was anything they could do to help. Three weeks to the day after the Likenses’ last visit—on October 26—their daughter would die.
NO MORE than four feet from the Baniszewskis’ back door stood another frame house, owned by the same real estate company and rented at the same price, $55 a month. All the rentals along New YorkStreet were packed closely together. The inhabitants were a restless lot, moving in and out frequently. The houses were run-down, dirty, and in need of paint. It could not be classified a slum area, but it did not make the grade of “middle class” either. No one was particularly happy to be living there.
Into the house next door, at 3848 East New York, moved Mr. and Mrs. Raymond Vermillion and their two children around the end of August. A couple approaching middle age, Vermillion and his wife, Phyllis, had hoped for something more middle class. But it was a home.
Mrs. Vermillion, a rather attractive woman in earlier years, worked on the night shift at the huge Radio Corporation of America plant on Sherman Drive, not far away. One of her first chores in the new location was to find someone to care for her children. Shortly after breakfast the first day she was settled, she called on her next-door neighbor, Mrs. Gertrude
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