Marisa Kwiatkowski

Sep 3, 2024 | indystar.com | Marisa Kwiatkowski

Editor's note:This story was originally published in 2014. We are republishing it as part of our coverage of the recently released movie based on this reporting. Some titles and references may be out of date. As The Star's social services watchdog, it's my job to be a voice for those who can't speak for themselves. I've investigated gaps in intensive mental health services for children with developmental disabilities and mental illnesses.

May 14, 2024 | yahoo.com | Marisa Kwiatkowski

Victor Parsons was driving west on U.S. 40 in Hancock County, Indiana, when his headlights illuminated two girls standing on the side of the road. It was late on Aug. 19, 1975. Parsons, his brother and buddy were heading to Cumberland, a town just east of Indianapolis, to grab a beer. . In the dim light, Parsons thought the teenage girls were wearing tie-dye shirts. He figured they were hitchhiking and decided not to stop.

May 14, 2024 | usatoday.com | Marisa Kwiatkowski

Note to readers: This story contains graphic descriptions of violence. The man was given many names, none of them his own. Slasher. Hunter. Predator. For nearly half a century, he played a starring role in Kathie Rottler’s nightmares. He turned the darkness into something she, her little sister and her childhood friend would forever fear. The women could picture the man’s face and the clothes he was wearing on Aug. 19, 1975, when he brutalized them.

May 14, 2024 | usatoday.com | Marisa Kwiatkowski

For nearly half a century, one man dominated Kathie Rottler’s nightmares. He turned the darkness into something she, her little sister and her childhood friend would forever fear. All three could picture the man’s face and the clothes he was wearing on Aug. 19, 1975, when he brutalized them. Rottler’s quest for answers to those questions would span decades – past her marriage, past the births of her children and grandchildren, past the loss of loved ones. She never gave up. This is her story.

May 14, 2024 | usatoday.com | Marisa Kwiatkowski

Kathie Rottler slouched in a chair at the Indianapolis Metropolitan Police Department in 2003. She was waiting on a detective. Tense, frustrated, Kathie stared at a photo on the wall of the Indianapolis skyline at night. Most people who saw the photo probably noticed the brilliant city lights, the skyscrapers. But at 43, all Kathie saw was the darkness. All she thought about were the crimes happening there. She’d lived through one of them. Since Aug.