Murdered Yorkville man's kin hit parole board for Reimann decision

Relatives of a Yorkville man who was one of five people murdered by Carl Reimann in 1972, including two of the man's children, have spoken out against the Illinois Prisoner Review Board's decision to grant Reimann parole in April and are pushing for the board to not re-release the mass murderer.

A daughter and a son of David M. Gardner, who was killed at the age of 35 in the deadly Dec. 29, 1972 robbery at the Pine Village Steak House in Yorkville for which Reimann was convicted and sentenced to between 50 and 150 years in prison for each murder victim, have expressed criticism of the board members who voted in favor of Reimann's parole. Two nieces and a nephew of Gardner's have also voiced objections and have shared them with this publication.

A panel of Prisoner Review Board members is slated to ultimately decided whether or not to re-release Reimann during a June 12 meeting at Dixon Correctional Center, where Reimann has been held since two of his parole living arrangements failed.

Reimann, 77, of Sandwich, who was granted parole in an 8-4 decision by the board on April 26, was first moved to a home in La Grange of a couple who advocated for his release. However, the home was located directly across from an elementary school.

Reimann's parole conditions did not prohibit him from living near a school, but he had been charged with contributing to the sexual delinquency of a minor child in the 1960s and his profile on the Illinois Department of Corrections website had been marked “sex offender registration required” until his release on parole. After complaints from local officials and residents, Reimann was moved to a structured living house in Calumet City. Once again, officials objected to his location - this time, he was located a block west of an elementary school and near a park.

The Department of Corrections removed Reimann from the Calumet City home on May 16 and returned him temporarily to the Dixon prison where he awaits the decision on his re-release. Jason Sweat, general counsel for the Prisoner Review Board, has said that Reimann needs to have a specific place to live upon his re-release.

Michelle Gardner-Morkert, daughter of David M. Gardner and Cheryl Gardner, wrote that with their April 26 decision, members of the Prisoner Review Board "perpetuated unspeakable violence against us with each vote in favor of parole."

Gardner-Morkert's statement in full: "The Illinois Prisoner Review Board sent a dangerous message to citizens of Illinois on April 26 when they decided to parole a mass murderer. In a climate of increasing gun violence in communities across the country contributing to the epidemic of school shootings, the Illinois Prisoner Review Board prioritized the economics of reducing the prison population over the concerns of citizens whose families were murdered and whose community was torn. Never before in the history of this crime and parole process have so many citizens voiced protest against the murderer’s release. We expected justice, but instead they delivered a verdict of insult to the victims’ families and the City of Yorkville.

"I never felt like a victim of my father’s murder until the moment that the Illinois Prisoner Review Board decided to parole the mass murderer. On April 26, members Edith Crigler, Donald Wayne Dunn, Vonetta Harris, Ellen Johnson, Tom Johnson, Virginia Martinez, Aurthur Mae Perkins, and Board Chair Craig Findley perpetuated unspeakable violence against us with each vote in favor of parole. They belittled our suffering. They desecrated the lives of David M. Gardner, Robert Loftus, George Pashade, Catherine Rekate and John Wilson. They mocked the pain, grief, courage, and healing of our families. They ignored our voices. They rejected justice. The Illinois Prisoner Review Board members decided that they knew better than all of us who protested this release. They silenced us. They twisted our will to rewrite our pain in service to their agenda. Shame on them. Shame on them for victimizing the families. Shame on them for perpetuating generational trauma. Shame on them for spreading fear to the communities of LaGrange and Calumet City.  Shame on them for contributing to the apathy toward gun violence. Shame on them for dishonoring our families. Shame on them for calculating that each life of our loved ones was worth nine years of a prison sentence. Shame on them for relinquishing their responsibility to ensure justice for the citizens of Illinois."

David J. Gardner, Gardner's son from his first marriage, described his memories of his father and when he learned of his death.

"I never felt like a victim," Gardner wrote. "I remember the Yorkville house I lived in the first four years of my life. I remember playing on a skateboard with my cousins Mike and Bill. I don't recall the specifics but we moved. The next images were those of our new home (in) Lynwood, Washington. A tiny place by comparison but it had a fireplace and a huge fenced yard and a vegetable garden on the other side of that fence. I remember photos taken of us in front of the house."

Gardner states that he lost his father the first time when his parents divorced.

"Dad worked at QFC a couple miles down the road," he wrote. "Dad didn’t seem particularly happy. Looking back, I’d call it 'conflicted.' I don’t recall ever playing with him as I did with my kids. One day, dad didn’t come home. I later learned of the divorce and that dad was not coming back. I didn’t know at the time why. That was the first time I lost my dad."

He continued, "A few years later during our summer vacation to Illinois, my sisters and I got to have dinner with dad and Cheryl at their home in Yorkville. We all received a gift from dad; mine was a red, white and blue football. The best gift, however, was the 'hope' of having a dad again. Sadly, I would never see him again after that dinner."

Gardner recalled finding out about his father's murder.

"I remember watching Saturday morning cartoons on Dec. 30, 1972 when the phone call came that dad had been shot dead," he wrote. "We watched the Vietnam reports on television so I knew the meaning of 'shot dead.' That was the second time I lost my dad. Carl Reimann took from me dad and his 'best gift' to me. He did something for which there is no forgiveness."

Gardner said he felt "victimized" by the board's decision on his father's killer.

"Until five years ago, I thought (Reimann) was in a hole from which there was no escape," he wrote. "I was okay with that as dad was never coming back from his hole of no escape. I never felt so victimized until the day I learned (Reimann) was to be paroled after 45 years served for killing without remorse or emotion, five unarmed and submitted people. The parole board has not acknowledged David M. Gardner’s eldest child nor asked for his forgiveness or opinion. If their experiment in restorative justice is going to be valid, this stakeholder needs to be consulted."

He added, "Now, I feel like a victim ... of the parole board’s injustice."

Bill Gardner, David M. Gardner's nephew, recalled learning of his uncle's murder in 1972. Bill Gardner's father, Lawrence, was a Yorkville alderman from 1962 to 1967 and was a long-time official with the Yorkville School District.

"I have vivid memories of that evening," Gardner wrote. "I was a senior at Yorkville High School. I remember seeing reports on Chicago television stations and I remember the police coming to our house and the funeral home calling. Our parents (I have one older brother) were picking up friends at O’Hare airport, and the police were attempting to reach my dad so he could inform family members. Before we realized that, I remember my brother saying one of our family members was a victim and I told him not to say that."

He continued, "When the police came to the door, my brother asked if it was our uncle. When the officer said, 'Yes,' I was numb. I guess I knew my brother was right, but I still held out hope. The police knew my parents. My dad was a teacher in Yorkville schools and had served as a city alderman. The police waited on the outskirts of town for my parents to return. My brother and I didn’t know that and we were dreading having to deliver the news. But when they got home, they already knew. We all hugged and I remember my dad crying."

Bill Gardner also recalled "fond memories" of his uncle.

"I thought it was so cool that he had an aluminum Christmas tree with the rotating light that made it change colors," Gardner wrote. "I even remember the apartment he lived in in downtown Yorkville. I also remember him taking my brother and I fishing in northern Wisconsin, along with his wife and my grandmother. I even remember sitting in the boat bored out of my mind! (I learned early on I didn’t like fishing.) But I still enjoyed those trips to the lake. And I remember when David worked at Ralph’s Grocery in downtown Yorkville. Mom would sometimes send me there to pick up a couple of things and I would always look to see if David were there. Sometimes he would treat me to a Hostess snack. My choice – snowball, cupcake, Twinkie. Whatever I wanted. What a cool uncle!"

But his children were robbed of their father, Gardner wrote.

"Unfortunately, his four children would never get to experience that for themselves," he wrote. "His three oldest lived far away and the youngest was, I think, two years old when he was murdered. They never got to know their dad. They never got to experience those fishing trips. They were robbed of their father. They only had a very short time to experience his love for them. They have few, if any, memories. And now, after serving just nine years for his murder (45 years served divided by 5 murders = 9 years per murder)... that’s unconscionable. Our family and four other families suffered the unthinkable that night. Now the parole board thinks it’s time to set him free. And the families once again pay the price as we relive that horrible evening. The pain and sorrow will never end for us."

Jill Reisenberg, David M. Gardner's niece, wrote that the state's prison overcrowding issue shouldn't be resolved by releasing mass murderers such as Reimann.

"Tragically, we now understand what deprecating the seriousness of an offense and disrespecting the law looks like...it happened when eight members of the PRB saw fit to lift the prison sentence from a mass murderer’s shoulders and place it squarely on his victims and the people of Illinois," she wrote. "Nothing about this is justice. It’s unnecessary, senseless, and painful revictimization. The state’s prison overcrowding issue ought not be relieved by releasing Illinois most brutal murderers to walk among us."

Another one of David M. Gardner's nieces, Lisa Sleezer, wrote that the eight Prisoner Review Board members who voted in favor of Reimann's release "made a monumental mistake."

"Not only did they make a decision without regard to the severity of the crime committed, but they also sent a clear proverbial message to the victims, family members, and community whose course of life was changed: ‘we don’t care,'" Sleezer wrote. "‘We don’t care’ is the message I received internally as I tried to make sense out of their reasoning behind the decision they had made. ‘We don’t care’ is the message all of us received after our letters apparently did not make a difference.  ‘We don’t care’ is the message my family received as they let Carl walk free directly after the hearing, as if a decision was potentially made beforehand. ‘We don’t care’ is the message I received as I understood that his plan to reintegrate was not clearly thought out, and now he is back in prison for the next review hearing on the 12th."

Sleezer wrote that the board's decision "revictimized the families and the community."

"Lives have forever been changed – forever been altered," she wrote. "The truth: the horrendous crime was committed on December 29th, 1972. The aftershocks and trauma have threaded throughout our family’s lives, the lives of our children, our grandchildren and on through generations and in the community.  The parole board’s decision has now intensified these threads; now lacing them with a raw injustice that can’t be explained or made sense of. Message received loud and clear… ‘we just don’t care.'"