News (Media Awareness Project) - CN AB: Suspect a 'Wicked Devil,' Father Says |
Title: | CN AB: Suspect a 'Wicked Devil,' Father Says |
Published On: | 2005-03-04 |
Source: | Winnipeg Free Press (CN MB) |
Fetched On: | 2008-01-16 22:14:59 |
SUSPECT A 'WICKED DEVIL,' FATHER SAYS
THE man believed responsible for Canada's deadliest modern-day attack
on police is a "wicked devil" who had a lifetime hatred for police,
his father said last night.
Jim Roszko, 46, had drifted apart from his parents, four brothers and
three sisters to live life as a trigger-happy recluse who neighbours
said yesterday should have been locked in a jail or mental health facility.
"I hate what has happened. I feel terrible. He is not my son. He is a
wicked devil," a frail sounding William Roszko, 80, told the Free Press.
He said his son -- who he hadn't seen for the past nine years despite
living nearby -- had been on a dangerous path since he began
experimenting with drugs, and guns, at an early age.
"I discovered marijuana under his bed when he was about 14 or 15 and
called the police for them to find out where he'd got it and put a
stop to that. But they didn't do anything. He was getting away easy,
getting into more and more dope, it was getting worse and worse," said
Roszko.
"The police didn't want to do anything about it. Now look what they've
got on their hands." Jim Roszko would regularly confront people around
his sprawling farm property for no apparent reason and didn't hesitate
to fire warning shots in the past, according to neighbours.
It's this farm where four Alberta Mounties were shot and killed
yesterday, and where Jim Roszko was found dead, reportedly of
self-inflicted gunshot wounds.
His property is lined with "No Trespassing" signs and his driveway is
protected by a line of metal spikes. Once, when a census official
showed up at his house, she left with four flat tires.
But it was Jim Roszko's criminal past, including allegations of
pedophilia, that made him an outcast among fellow farmers in Lac Ste.
Anne County, just north of Edmonton.
The black sheep of the family, Roszko had long ago lost touch with
most of his seven brothers and sisters. They were stunned, but not
necessarily surprised, to learn that he was linked to the shootout
that dominated yesterday's newscasts. As of last night, police had not
confirmed whether Roszko was the man who opened fire on police with a
high-powered rifle, but relatives and nearby residents identified the
farm as his property. The killer was found dead in a metal quonset hut
on the property, along with four officers who were part of a raid on a
marijuana grow operation on Jim Roszko's farm.
Born in the same county where he died, Jim Roszko was raised in a
strict Christian household. When he was 12, however, his parents
divorced and he turned to marijuana and crime.
"Everyone knew he had no conscience," Kimon Pierson said. "We've been
asking the question for a number of years why this guy wasn't locked
up."
Pierson grew up with Roszko in rural Alberta, but their lives have
taken vastly different paths. Pierson has a PhD, while Roszko withdrew
from society and seemed to enjoy terrorizing people.
"He was a known marksman and used his gun regularly. You'd often hear
gunshots on his property, and quite often he'd take shots towards
people," said Pierson.
"Everyone knew not to go anywhere near him."
Jim Roszko once shot at a group of curious teenagers who had heard
about his reputation and went to check out his property, he said.
"He almost always had a gun with him, either in his truck or for sure
in his home," said Pierson.
In 1993, after an altercation with a local school trustee, he was
charged with 12 offences, including unlawful confinement, pointing a
firearm and impersonating a police officer. Guy Fontaine, his lawyer
at the time, recalled yesterday how Roszko already had a notorious
reputation in the community because of allegations that he once
inappropriately touched a child.
Those allegations dominated the rumour mill yesterday as residents of
Mayerthorpe, a nearby town of 1,500, tried to fathom how a seemingly
routine drug bust could go so horribly wrong.
Standing five-foot-five and barely 160 pounds, Jim Roszko was
soft-spoken, well-organized and a tad awkward.
The alleged gunman was also convinced that the RCMP unfairly harassed
him, town residents said. In one case, they went so far as to charge
him for having car windows that were too tinted.
Pierson said he recalls going to high school parties where Roszko
would arrive, only to head immediately for a corner of the room and
sit alone.
"He had very few friends, and everyone just avoided him. He was very
much a loner," he said.
"When we were young, he got into lots of altercations. I remember one
time he attacked a guy with a baseball bat. He also liked using knives
and showing them off. But his favourite weapon was a gun."
Roszko never married, had no children and dabbled in several types of
farming, mostly grain, said Pierson. Roszko had also involved himself
in some construction projects.
Jim Roszko's brother, George, lives 30 minutes away in Whitecourt,
Alta., and had not seen him in 15 years. "He'd been bad for years. The
police knew that," the 50-year-old said. "Man alive, this is
horrible... I just feel terrible for the police."
THE man believed responsible for Canada's deadliest modern-day attack
on police is a "wicked devil" who had a lifetime hatred for police,
his father said last night.
Jim Roszko, 46, had drifted apart from his parents, four brothers and
three sisters to live life as a trigger-happy recluse who neighbours
said yesterday should have been locked in a jail or mental health facility.
"I hate what has happened. I feel terrible. He is not my son. He is a
wicked devil," a frail sounding William Roszko, 80, told the Free Press.
He said his son -- who he hadn't seen for the past nine years despite
living nearby -- had been on a dangerous path since he began
experimenting with drugs, and guns, at an early age.
"I discovered marijuana under his bed when he was about 14 or 15 and
called the police for them to find out where he'd got it and put a
stop to that. But they didn't do anything. He was getting away easy,
getting into more and more dope, it was getting worse and worse," said
Roszko.
"The police didn't want to do anything about it. Now look what they've
got on their hands." Jim Roszko would regularly confront people around
his sprawling farm property for no apparent reason and didn't hesitate
to fire warning shots in the past, according to neighbours.
It's this farm where four Alberta Mounties were shot and killed
yesterday, and where Jim Roszko was found dead, reportedly of
self-inflicted gunshot wounds.
His property is lined with "No Trespassing" signs and his driveway is
protected by a line of metal spikes. Once, when a census official
showed up at his house, she left with four flat tires.
But it was Jim Roszko's criminal past, including allegations of
pedophilia, that made him an outcast among fellow farmers in Lac Ste.
Anne County, just north of Edmonton.
The black sheep of the family, Roszko had long ago lost touch with
most of his seven brothers and sisters. They were stunned, but not
necessarily surprised, to learn that he was linked to the shootout
that dominated yesterday's newscasts. As of last night, police had not
confirmed whether Roszko was the man who opened fire on police with a
high-powered rifle, but relatives and nearby residents identified the
farm as his property. The killer was found dead in a metal quonset hut
on the property, along with four officers who were part of a raid on a
marijuana grow operation on Jim Roszko's farm.
Born in the same county where he died, Jim Roszko was raised in a
strict Christian household. When he was 12, however, his parents
divorced and he turned to marijuana and crime.
"Everyone knew he had no conscience," Kimon Pierson said. "We've been
asking the question for a number of years why this guy wasn't locked
up."
Pierson grew up with Roszko in rural Alberta, but their lives have
taken vastly different paths. Pierson has a PhD, while Roszko withdrew
from society and seemed to enjoy terrorizing people.
"He was a known marksman and used his gun regularly. You'd often hear
gunshots on his property, and quite often he'd take shots towards
people," said Pierson.
"Everyone knew not to go anywhere near him."
Jim Roszko once shot at a group of curious teenagers who had heard
about his reputation and went to check out his property, he said.
"He almost always had a gun with him, either in his truck or for sure
in his home," said Pierson.
In 1993, after an altercation with a local school trustee, he was
charged with 12 offences, including unlawful confinement, pointing a
firearm and impersonating a police officer. Guy Fontaine, his lawyer
at the time, recalled yesterday how Roszko already had a notorious
reputation in the community because of allegations that he once
inappropriately touched a child.
Those allegations dominated the rumour mill yesterday as residents of
Mayerthorpe, a nearby town of 1,500, tried to fathom how a seemingly
routine drug bust could go so horribly wrong.
Standing five-foot-five and barely 160 pounds, Jim Roszko was
soft-spoken, well-organized and a tad awkward.
The alleged gunman was also convinced that the RCMP unfairly harassed
him, town residents said. In one case, they went so far as to charge
him for having car windows that were too tinted.
Pierson said he recalls going to high school parties where Roszko
would arrive, only to head immediately for a corner of the room and
sit alone.
"He had very few friends, and everyone just avoided him. He was very
much a loner," he said.
"When we were young, he got into lots of altercations. I remember one
time he attacked a guy with a baseball bat. He also liked using knives
and showing them off. But his favourite weapon was a gun."
Roszko never married, had no children and dabbled in several types of
farming, mostly grain, said Pierson. Roszko had also involved himself
in some construction projects.
Jim Roszko's brother, George, lives 30 minutes away in Whitecourt,
Alta., and had not seen him in 15 years. "He'd been bad for years. The
police knew that," the 50-year-old said. "Man alive, this is
horrible... I just feel terrible for the police."
Member Comments |
No member comments available...