Transcript-Interrogation of Tracy Sitersin

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Transcript—Interrogation of Tracy Sitersin

Interrogating Officers: Sgt. Eric Renfield, Sgt. Adam Dalton

Location: 8124 Dewey Rd.—Home of Tracy Sitersin

Date: 10/13/2012

Time: 11:00AM

Dalton: Thank you for taking the time to speak with us, Ms. Sitersin. I’m sure this must be a very difficult time for you. We just have a few questions.

Sitersin: I’m all ears. Do you mind if I smoke?

Dalton: No, go right ahead. Forgive my bluntness, but you don’t seem particularly upset about your son’s death.

Sitersin: The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Hell, the world’s probably better off.

Dalton: Why do you say that?

Sitersin: Look, I love all five of my kids, but Jacky, well, Jacky was never quite right in the head.

Dalton: Could you elaborate on that a little bit?

Sitersin: The officer that called me to let me know it had happened also told me about all them IDs you found. I wasn’t sure about it when he was on trial for that Lucy girl, but when I heard about them IDs, well, now I know. Jacky was sick, just like I suspected.

Dalton: You suspected Jack had violent tendencies?

Sitersin: Oh lord, yes. He used to do things when he was a child.

Renfield: What kind of things?

Sitersin: When he was about five, maybe six, I found him one day in the middle of the road playing with a dead cat. Poor thing, must of got run over by a car or something. Well, Jacky was hunched down next to it, and I got a little closer, and I saw that he was trying to cut open its belly with a stick. At the time, I didn’t think nothing of it. Boys can be so curious. As he got older though, it got worse.

Renfield: How so?

Sitersin: Well, I didn’t know this until later, but that boy was definitely killing. For years, people around here would find dead animals around, but these animals wasn’t just dead. They were all cut up, like they took a trip through the garbage disposal. Well one day, I find Jacky on the porch with a dead bird, and he’s digging through its little body like it’s nothing. I asked him what he was doing and he said the strangest thing: something, like “I want to see what’s inside,” or something like that. Well I didn’t make the connection with the animals around the neighborhood. At the time, I thought my boy might grow up to be a surgeon. What do they call that? Wishful ignorance? Anyway, I did finally figure it out. Lord, I’ve just been too embarrassed to talk about it. I didn’t want to be the mother of the boy who was killing all those poor little things. Suppose it don’t matter now.

Renfield: How did you find out?

Sitersin: Pox.

Dalton: Pox?

Sitersin: Family dog, a mutt but spotted like one of them firehouse dogs. Jacky’s brother, Stu, when he was seven, said that he looked like he had black chicken pox when we brought him home, so that’s what we named him, Pox.

Dalton: What happened?

Sitersin: Well, I was trying to feed him one day. I poured kibbles in his bowl and usually, he’d come running, but he didn’t come which I thought was strange, so I went for him calling ‘Pox, Pox,’ all over the house, but he was nowhere. Well, I looked out back, and you see that shed back there? The door was a little open and usually, it’s closed, so I thought Pox might have got himself stuck in there, and when I got there, I just couldn’t believe what I saw. There’s Pox lying belly-up on the floor with twelve-year-old Jacky kneeling over him all covered in blood.

Renfield: He had killed the dog?

Sitersin: Not just killed. He had torn poor Pox’s guts out, but he had left the stomach in. Jack was shoving Pox’s guts down his throat making him eat himself. Well, needless to say, I didn’t hold out no hope that he’d be a surgeon after that. You know, everyday doctors and lawyers, cashiers, teachers, CEOs and accountants are born, but I didn’t get one of those with Jacky. I got Hannibal Lecter.

Dalton: Did you ever take him to a therapist or other mental health professional?

Sitersin: I’m a manager of a Dairy Queen. I ain’t got the money for that kind of thing. Besides, in my thinking, the kind of help people get from therapists don’t do much help, just makes them more confused.

Renfield: And you still thought there was a chance he was innocent at the trial?

Sitersin: I guess I was still holding out hope that my boy would turn out normal. I guess I can lay that hope to rest now.

Dalton: Were you in contact with your son before his death?

Sitersin: Oh, every once and again he’d drop by. The door was always open for Jacky, but you know, I never asked him much about what he’d been up to.

Dalton: Why not?

Sitersin: [Coughs] Would you?

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