“Light thinks it travels faster than anything but it is wrong. No matter how fast light travels, it finds the darkness has always got there first, and is waiting for it.”
― Terry Pratchett, Reaper Man
I have been sitting on these small vignettes of American crime history for almost a decade because I wasn’t sure if it was okay to tell these stories. Legalities weren’t my concern. Most of the crimes in this new series happened over 40-years ago, the arcades are long gone, and the odds of anyone affected by these tragedies seeing my work here is slim to none.
Still, I find myself haunted by inner feelings to wait a little longer, mostly because I know first-hand that the trauma caused by a loved one’s murder never truly heals; that there are never enough distractions in your life or in the passing of time to fill the howling fury of their absence. The saying, “Time heals all wounds” is, in fact, bullshit. I speak from my own experience by saying that the more time moves forward, the more you are reminded of who got left behind and why.
I certainly hope that revisiting these long-ago dark tales does not trigger bad memories for anyone. The last thing that I would ever want to do is inadvertently dig up a family’s pain from the soft soil of acceptance that was hard-won over time.
So, here I am, still trying to write this introductory header and feeling as if I should not tell these tales. In fact, I omitted two already that I felt were too heavy a subject for now. And although most of these dark histories have been circulating for what seems forever among old school arcaders like myself, they’ve always been cloaked in a sort of hush as if the old school did not want the new school to know that arcade history has a dark side. But it did, and like it or not, it is part of the cultural history of the video craze.
Truth be told, for all of the electronic incandescence video games brought my generation, the actions that certain shadows cast over them are just as memorable but for different reasons. You know, the more you study arcade culture and history, the more you discover that 80s arcades were not the bastions of purity that television shows drenched in Goldbergism want you to believe in, but were establishments affected by every imaginable human vice under the sun.
It’s true that arcades were places of escape that took us to new realms via sensory doorways accessed through a vector/raster screen. And it’s true that they taught us that the universe of technology and our desire to discover what lies beyond it was pre-installed stock in ourselves by a force we already recognized as “wonder”; and, yes, it’s undoubtedly true that we unlocked a star-field of possibilities within ourselves for the price of a single quarter. Oh, yes, arcades were places of light and love.
But like everywhere else on this planet of apes sometimes the darkness rolls in on freeplay.
The 1977 Just Games Shooter
Date: August 9, 1977
Location: Just Games, 403 E. Euclid Avenue, Mt. Prospect, Illinois
He said he wanted to hear the squishy sound of the bullets exploding through people’s bodies because he was bored and needed some excitement. James E. Barker, a 16-year-old high school dropout with a history of untreated mental illness had a vision on how to rev-up his life real fast: Go to the arcade and shoot the place up.
Just Games was a strip mall “street location” arcade filled with pinballs, arcade games and foosball tables, located in Mt. Prospect, IL. Since Space Invaders (Midway 1978) wouldn’t arrive until the following year, Just Games was primarily dedicated to pinball with just a few arcade games. Ones that it had were Night Driver (Atari 1976), Sprint 2 (Kee Games 1976) and Boot Hill (Midway 1977) among others. Definitely fun games, but nothing compared to the space shooters which would begin arriving in 1978 and create a national obsession such as America had not seen since the rock n’ roll craze of the 1950s.
On Summer weekends Just Games was packed with kids and young pinball wizards trying to up their scores, including Barker who was quite good on Bally’s 8-Ball pinball machine. In fact, according to at least four people, he held the high score not only at Just Games but in every arcade within a ten-mile radius which would include Mother’s, the legendary arcade and record store which was a test site for both Williams and Midway, the largest game manufacturers at the time.
Video games did not keep high scores in 1977. High scores were kept on a chalkboard that hung up on the wall and was accessible only by the operator or staff who manually kept track of scores. According to a woman named “Heather” who contacted me years ago, and who was a 14-year-old eyewitness to the shootings that day, Barker was upset when he thought that his high score had been wiped from the high score board of the arcade allegedly because he had called the manager an “asshole” the week before. This information never made it into the press, but “Heather” was certain that she had heard Barker complain of his high score vanishing two days before he came in with a gun. Granted, this information is purely circumstantial. But I have seen high score chasers in the modern-day resort to outrageous behaviors and issue threats of violence, even brandishing guns online and threatening murder, over the loss of a high score. One guy, for instance, in 2021, resorted to suing anyone who dared to claim that his video game high scores on Donkey Kong were fake. We’re talking multi-million-dollar lawsuits just over someone’s unfavorable opinion about a dude’s performance on Donkey Kong.
So, there are aspects of “Heather’s” eyewitness report that rings true for me. Some competitive gamers can get pretty aggressive about their scores. It’s where their ego lives, is why. Anyway…
Prior to entering Just Games arcade on August 9, 1977, Barker had been practicing shooting a .22 caliber handgun in a wooded area not far from his estranged mother’s home. Also alienated from his father who’d divorced his mother a decade before, Barker’s father had pretty much lost track of his son. According to Barker’s 13-year-old girlfriend, Barker was semi-homeless and couch surfing between friend’s houses when not in juvenile detention for various petty crimes. It was during this time that he had become accustomed to carrying a handgun around in a rolled-up newspaper for “protection” like an old school Chicago wise guy out to do a hit. Recently he’d began using PCP (phenylcyclohexyl piperidine) also known as “Angel Dust”, a powerful hallucinogenic drug known for causing violent behavior, extreme paranoia and explosive manic episodes.
Having just turned 16, and with a new girlfriend, Barker should have been in the halcyon days of his youth, but for various reasons, including his loss of supportive parenting and lack of appropriate psychiatric care, he was quickly sailing into dark and rocky harbors on a journey of no return. In fact, his own father would later refer to him in the press as being “an animal”.
Witnesses reported that Barker casually walked into the arcade and began shooting people, causing a stampede for the exits. Others said that he played pinball first. But all agreed on what he said before he opened fire: “Just get out of here,” he reportedly yelled. “Get the fuck out now!”
Otto Meisenheimer, a 21-year-old college student who had been playing what court records state as a “bowling game” (most likely Exidy’s Robot Bowl) did not hear Barker’s instructions to leave, and because he didn’t move fast enough Barker walked up to Meisenheimer and shot him 9 times at point-blank range, seven times in the chest and twice in the head, killing him on the spot. This required Barker to reload the gun. So, he had time to think about what he was doing.
Barker later remarked to police how he thought it was “cool” how Meisenheimer’s body jerked in response to each bullet entering it, but that he was disappointed that he “didn’t go splat” like he expected him to. He said that he watched Meisenheimer die and that, like a cat bored the instant that the captured bird dies, the thrill of shooting someone vanished, and he needed “more action”.
Barker did not know Otto Meisenheimer. Both men were complete strangers to each other. In today’s America, where crazed gunman shooting up public spaces and mass murdering people on a whim is a “normal” occurrence, people have become “used to it”, including countless politicians who think gun rights are more important than human lives. This was not the case in 1977.
In 1977, people truly struggled hard to comprehend why anyone would do such a thing as walk into an arcade full of kids and open fire. Mass shootings in public were rare. You can see this in the bewildered faces of the kids huddled around outside of the arcade; vacant expressions, hands clenched in front of them or hanging limply at their sides. They don’t know what to do yet alone think. Everyone is in shock. There is no social media to deflect the trauma; no Tik Tok dances or Facebook rants to distract them from the crushing reality that something really shitty just happened and there’s never going to be an explanation for it. They have just been thrust into a raw and emotionally intimate moment together, and there is no way out.
After murdering Otto Meisenheimer, Barker walked outside and began shooting at cars and the kids who were sheltering at the Radio Shack, shattering its glass door. Meanwhile, at The Golden Bear restaurant directly next door, service staff huddled in the backroom comforting half a dozen frightened children, one of whom had been shot in the back and who was quickly losing consciousness. Thankfully Barker was taken into custody by police before he could finish “entertaining himself”. Had Barker not been stopped by police, there likely would have been many more dead.
Due to James E. Barker Jr. being a minor when he committed his crimes, I could not find any document showing what his sentencing was although I know one exists. I did locate him and determined that he seems to have served around 20-years in prison. Not long enough.
Of the four other arcade kids shot by Barker, two were critically injured, but all recovered. However, the emotional scars lasted much longer. A man named “Stewart”, who was only
9-years old at the time of the Just Games shooting, told me that he didn’t even go to a movie until he was 17 because he was paranoid the whole time that he might get caught up in another gunman situation and not be so lucky.
Another witness to the event, named “Carrie” who was 14-years old at the time, told me that, when she became a mother, she was fearful of letting her kids into any public venue without her beside them due to lingering fears of what she’d survived. She told me that everyone who was there that day has some form of emotional trauma from it. “You can’t have something like that happen and not suffer any repercussions whether you’re aware of them or not, ” she said. “We all got hurt that day. Some worse than others. But there was pain nonetheless.”
According to witnesses on a 2015 Facebook discussion dedicated to remembering Otto Meisenheimer’s life, the crime scene outline and blood stains from Otto Meisenheimer’s body remained visible on the arcade floor for years. It was never painted over.
Just Games closed in 1984. The site of the former arcade is now a grocery named El Amigo Carnicería. Carnicería is Spanish for “butcher shop”.
Sources:
“My Kid Didn’t Do It; An Animal Did”
11 Aug 1977, Page 97 – The Daily Herald
“1 Killed, 4 Hurt by gunman”
10 Aug 1977, Page 1 – Arlington Heights Herald
Facebook “Growing Up In Prospect Heights, IL” (August 2015)
Privately held witness testimony
The Malibu Grand Prix Arcade Massacre
Date: July 1, 1983
Location: Malibu Gran Prix Arcade, 6115 Southwest Freeway, Houston, Texas
Texas homicide detective J.C. Mosier reported that the blood was so deep in the men’s room that you couldn’t walk into the room without it rising over the tops of your shoes.
To make matters worse, the killers had turned the thermostat all of the way up, thinking that the excessive heat would make it more difficult for the coroner to determine the exact time of death.
On a Summer morning that should have been fresh with the breezy Texas air, instead the hot metallic blood-scent of copper and iron rose up warm from the murder site, as if you were walking through a battlefield. It was as bad as it gets, they were told before entering the room. Hold your breath or you’ll puke. See what you need to see and then get some air.
Meanwhile, a group of policemen standing outside the door, perhaps wishing for plastic shoe guards, fought against the urge to scream. It was one of the worst murders to ever happen in an arcade due to its level of violence and sheer brutality.
At 8 a.m., a female employee on shift to open the business arrived to find the front doors of the Malibu Grand Prix unlocked with a trail of blood droplets leading out of the door. Her arrival coincided with that of a Federal Express deliveryman. Together she and the delivery man bravely entered the arcade.
In the back office they found night manager and medical student Anil Varughese (18) deceased and lying face-up on the floor of the office with multiple stab wounds to his chest. Police would later discover a 5-inch blade from a kitchen knife laying under his body.
But what was in the men’s room was the stuff of nightmares.
Inside the men’s room were the sliced, stabbed and mutilated bodies of brothers Joerene Pequeno (18), Arnold Pequeno (19) and new employee Roddy Dane Harris (22). All were deceased and sprawled out in what looked like a murderous frenzy. Pequeno brothers had their throats slashed. They were stabbed in their heads, their chests, their arms, their legs. Anywhere the killer’s knife could reach. Due to the amount and the depth of the blood it was apparent that all three men had bled out externally rather than internally due to the repetitive stabbing and slashing from their killers. The high heat from the thermostat being turned all the way up for 8-hours had turned the deep pools of blood on the floor into a sickening gelatinous pool.
“There was blood everywhere, splattered on the walls, the floor, all over,” said John Brite of the Harris County medical examiner’s office. “What amazed me was the sheer amount of cutting involved. This was more than your average. It looked like there was a whole lot of movement that went on in there.” (Austin American Statesman, July 1983)
KPRC TV HOUSTON: https://digital.library.unt.edu/ark:/67531/metadc913886/m1/
A coroner would later discover that both Roddy Dane Harris and Joerene Pequeno had been stabbed and slashed over 24 times each, indicating that they’d put up a fight. It was either that, or more force had been applied to them to enact revenge. All three victims had defensive wounds on their hands and forearms. It was also clear that they had fought their attackers for some time before succumbing to their injuries. It was beyond overkill. Whoever had done this had continued attacking the victims long after they were able to fight back or even be saved. This was no mere robbery. It was personal.
And personal it turned out to be. Richard James Wilkerson (19), a former pit employee who had recently been fired for his unsatisfactory performance, was the mastermind behind the crime which involved recruiting his best friend and his cousin. Since he had to go back to the Malibu Grand Prix to pick up his last paycheck and sign papers of release, he figured that coming in just before they closed at midnight would be the best time to rob them and kill any witnesses. Putting together a quick plan which included the gathering of the sharpest kitchen knives he and his accomplices could find, Wilkerson, his best friend Kenneth Ray “Pony” Johnson (20) and Wilkerson’s own underage cousin, James Edward “Junior Boy” Randle (16), took a bus to the Malibu Grand Prix and arrived just in time before closing, catching the employees off-guard.
When Wilkerson, Ransom and Randle arrived at The Malibu Grand Prix arcade, Wilkerson was quick to give out directions: He’d take the manager into the office and kill him, then Ransom and Randle would kill the remaining employees in the men’s room.
Hiding in the driveway/alleyway just outside the front doors, Wilkerson, Ransom and Randle waited until most of the night shift employees had left before they approached the doors. To their dismay they found it locked. However, one of the four employees still inside recognized Wilkerson and let him in.
Wilkerson made a bee line for night manager Anil Varughese’s office but found Varughese coming out of the men’s room instead. Wilkerson informed him that he was there for his paycheck, and the two men went into the office. Wilkerson quickly locked the door behind him. Meanwhile, Ransom and Randle stood around watching Arnold and Joerene Pequeno and Roddy Dane Harris play video games before forcing them into the men’s room at knife point and murdering them.
According to Wilkerson’s own testimony in court, manager Anil Varughese was immediately sympathetic to Wilkerson having been fired and told him he would help him get his job back. When asked if Varughese was perhaps only offering because he felt threatened by Wilkerson, Wilkerson said that he felt that Varughese had actually being sincere.
But if Wilkerson had any empathy in his heart at all that night, it was nowhere to be found when he needed it. Wilkerson pulled out a knife and demanded that Varughese open the safe. Varughese took out the money, around $2000 ($5500), and gave it to Wilkerson. Wilkerson then murdered Varughese with the knife, stabbing him multiple times with such force that the blade broke off the hilt. It was later found underneath Varughese’s lifeless body.
Just then, Ransom and Randle knocked on the office door and Wilkerson opened it. Ransom and Randle said that they’d killed the remaining employees in the men’s room. Wilkerson didn’t believe them and went and checked himself. NOTE: Documents and testimony indicate that each employee had been herded into separate stalls in the men’s room and killed one by one; meaning that each employee heard the sounds of the murder of the other person before them. Apparently one killer held the doors shut on two employees held within the stalls while one killer dispatched one, and then moved onto the next victim. A horrific scenario. However, Joerene Pequeno, apparently escaped from the stall and tried to fight his way out. He was found under a urinal with multiple stab wounds and with his throat cut.
On leaving the Malibu Grand Prix both Wilkerson and Ransom tried to steal a car but were unsuccessful and ended up walking all the way back home, a journey of several miles. When the money was split three-ways, each killer received around $1600 a piece. Not a fair trade for so much oblivion.
After being turned in by their own family members, including one of the killer’s own mother, all three young men were caught, faced trail and sentenced as follows:
Richard James Wilkerson received the Death Penalty and was executed by lethal injection in Texas on August 31, 1993.
Kenneth Ray Ransom received the death penalty and was executed by lethal injection in Texas on October 28, 1997.
James Edward Randle was convicted of capital murder and sentenced to life in prison. He did not receive the death penalty because he was a minor when he committed the crimes. He was paroled in 2019.
The Malibu Grand Prix Southwest Freeway location fell into ruin and closed. In 2012 the lost location was photographed by the site Abandoned But Not Forgotten. The former site of the Malibu Grand Prix is now home to the Brazilian-based religious franchise, Iglesia Universal, which has a huge sign up that reads, “Pare de Sufrir” which translates as “Suffer No More”.
Iglesia Universal is a McChurch-chain business that not unsurprisingly preaches “prosperity theology”. This means that, according to their teachings, the more money you give to them, the more God cares about you. The founder of the Universal religious franchise model is, also not unsurprisingly, a billionaire.
Some crime sites just never wash clean.
Sources:
ABC13 ABC13 ARCHIVE: The Malibu Grand Prix Murders – YouTube
Universities Libraries/UNT Digital Library [News Clip: Houston Murders] – UNT Digital Library
Murderpedia/ Richard James Wilkerson
Murderrpedia/Kenneth Ray Ransom
Abandoned But Not Forgotten: Malibu Grand Prix ruins
Fire Button: The 1982 Police Murder of Nevell Johnson Jr
Date: December 28, 1982
Location: Recreation Establishment Inc Arcade, 1495 NW Third Ave, Miami, FL
What happens to a dream deferred?
Does it dry up
like a raisin in the sun?
Or fester like a sore -And then run?
Does it stink like rotten meat?
Or crust and sugar over -like a syrupy sweet?
Maybe it just sags
like a heavy load.
Or does it explode?
–Langston Hughes, Harlem
He was 6’3″, lean and lanky and his co workers at The Department of Human Resources, Dade County where he worked as a Courier, called him “Snake”. He didn’t smoke. He didn’t drink. He had no criminal record. His only vice was video games. Pac-Man (Namco/Midway 1980) and Eagle (Centauri 1980). That was his jam.
At 20-years-old, and a time when most young men are out chasing girls and getting into trouble, or at least trying to, Nevell Johnson Jr was a responsible worker with big college dreams. He was also the dutiful son of hard-working parents who were reliant on him. Nevell’s father had recently suffered a back injury and was temporarily unable to work. While he was on sick leave, Nevell Jr was helping to pay some of his parent’s bills until his father got back up on his feet.
Nevell Johnson Jr was kind. He was cheerful and always in a good mood. He didn’t carry a gun, own a gun nor did he have any plans to. He was loved and admired by his coworkers and friends.
Nevell had recently undergone surgery on his feet for painful bunions he’d been suffering with for years. To get him on his feet sooner, his orthopedic surgeon had fashioned him some bulky orthopedic shoes with the toes cut out to accommodate the bandages he’d have to wear for a few weeks. He was wearing these cumbersome and strange looking shoes when he painfully hobbled into the Recreation Establishment Inc to play Eagle, a space shooter video game made by Centauri in 1980. He just wanted to relax, play some games and forget about his sore feet. But when you’re poor and black in a town of crooked cops, trouble’s going to find you one way or another.
Nevell loved to play video games. He reportedly held a world record on Pac-Man and Ms. Pac-Man and had reached the split screen twice which was witnessed by many people. He dreamed of one day attending college to become a software engineer. He carried a notebook with him everywhere he went and jotted down his thoughts and, more importantly, how he was going to get to college. He never missed a day making an entry. On the day he entered the arcade for the last time, he a wrote a single cryptic word on the “Wednesday” page of that notebook and underlined it. It was the word “ascension”, meaning “to rise”.
On December 28, 1982, at 6:04 p.m., Officer Luis Alvarez (32), off his beat without permission and with a police-issued gun that he’d illegally modified to have a “hair-trigger”, walked into the Recreation Establishment arcade looking for someone to hassle so he could impress the new recruit he had tagging alongside him. Seeing a bulge in Nevell’s back pocket, he walked up to Nevell while he was playing Eagle, put his service revolver to the back of his head and asked him if he was carrying a gun.
There was no provocation from Nevell for Officer Alvarez to do this. Nevell was playing Eagle. He was in the zone. He was in the game. What kind of threat does a guy pose playing a video game?
According to Alvarez, Nevell said he did have a gun. Then Alvarez, with his illegally and dangerously modified service gun still trained to Johnson’s head, gave Johnson conflicting commands by telling him to first stand still and then to walk outside. Nevell, surprised and not knowing which command to obey, turned to walk outside as instructed. Alvarez’ gun went off…or did it? Depends on who you want to believe. The witnesses who saw Nevell murdered, or a cop with an illegally modified weapon who’d only been on the job for 16-months yet had gone through five departmental investigations of alleged misconduct and use of excessive force? It’s not a difficult question.
The bullet entered just above Nevell’s left temple and exited out the back of his head. Nevell fell forward to floor and landed on his face, blood spurting from his head. He died in the hospital the next day despite rigorous efforts to save his life. To give an indication of how seriously injured Nevell was, the hospital emergency room administered 18 units of blood to him before he died. The human body roughly holds around 10 units. He bled out nearly twice.
Over a dozen kids and teens watched in horror as blood sprayed from Nevell’s head and flowed from out of his mouth over the shiny yellow and red striped floors of the arcade. Many ran for the doors in terror. Others stood stunned, transfixed by the surreal sight of a pool of blood forming next to Pac-Man. Two kids would later tell of seeing a policeman take a gun from another arriving officer and place it in Nevell’s hand. However, many of the witnesses ran because they’d seen what happened the last time a cop had killed an innocent black man in Miami. The safest place at this point would be home.
Two years prior a group of policemen had beaten to death Arthur McDuffie, a black businessman and Marine lance corporeal, during a traffic stop and then tried to cover it up by tampering with evidence. They were later acquitted by a corrupt court system which resulted in setting off the worst riots Miami had ever seen.
Now, Nevell “Snake” Johnson Jr, dying on an arcade floor in front of his favorite video game, and whose last words written in his “dream book” was the word “ascension”, would indeed rise. By midnight his name would be written in fire and smoke across the landscape of Miami.
According to The Miami News who published a timeline of events of December 29, 1982, by 6:45 p.m. and roughly only 25 minutes after Alvarez murdered Nevell Johnson Jr, police were calling for riot gear to be brought to the arcade. They were trapped inside by protestors outside. They couldn’t get out and had to barricade themselves in using video arcade cabinets.
Billed in the press as “The Overton Riots”, named for the neighborhood that the Recreation Entertainment arcade was located in, civil unrest raged in protest of Nevell’s murder by police. People were pulled out of cars at traffic stops and beaten. Cars were set on fire. Businesses looted. The city saw a return to some of the more aggressive behavior witnessed during The McDuffie Riots of 1980. Police tried to back away from the conflagration in hopes tensions would die down before the 49th Orange Bowl which was only two days away. In fact, The Orange Bowl seemed to be all that Miami city officials cared about and not the fact that one of “Miami’s finest” had just murdered an innocent young man in a video arcade in front of children.
Nevell Johnson Jr, a young man with dreams of rising above it all, with hopes of beating the odds of being born black and poor in America, where white cops shoot black men in the head while they’re playing a video game in an arcade, was buried on January 9, 1983. His funeral was attended by over 1000 people.
Shortly after his funeral, The US Department of Justice announced that it would be investigating the murder of Nevell Johnson Jr followed by the Mayor of Miami’s proclamation that he was creating a 35-person civilian board to review the case. Then The US Civil Rights Commission announced that it was holding hearings on the case. Finally, in February 1983, Officer Luis Alvarez was indicted on manslaughter charges and stood to face trial. Shit seemed to be hitting the fan. But it was really just a show.
Even though Officer Alvarez was found in direct violation of eight police standards by a nationally known criminologist and expert witness hired by Dade County to analyze the case; specifically, that Alravez’ had used of an illegally modified firearm, left his patrol car without notifying police communications and failed to render medical to Johnson, pinning Alravez down seemed to be an impossible task. Alvarez was becoming somewhat of a folk hero to the Reagan crowd of right-wing worshippers who thought he was doing the world a favor by killing “thugs”. Adding insult to injury, someone with horrible taste attempted to make a made for TV movie about Alvarez, using the plot of “good cop persecuted by a Liberal agenda” although it never aired.
Alvarez was acquitted on March 16, 1984. However, he faced a federal investigation that did not favor him well. He was fired by Miami Police and was never allowed to return to law enforcement again.
The family of Nevell Johnson Jr sued the City of Miami and received a million-dollar settlement.
The Eagle in the arcade continued to record high scores under Nevell Johnson Jr’s initials for over two years. Players kept dedicating their high scores to him.
In films I found on Getty Images shot by CBS News the day after Nevell Johnson was shot by police, the Recreation Establishment can clearly be seen as the clean and wholesome neighborhood arcade that it was. The arcade was brightly lit by both overhead florescent lighting panels and a great deal of ambient light that filtered through two sets of swinging glass doors. Many small children can be seen enjoying the arcade in an environment that is anything but “seedy”. I see no evidence of the “thuggery” continually mentioned during the trial.
I can’t help but envision Nevell Johnson Jr standing there, playing that game on the last day of his life, not knowing that it was going to end so very soon and only because some cop wanted to show off. Every time I see an Eagle arcade game, I think of this. An injustice that has never been fully addressed.
Sources:
Getty Images/Video footage of the arcade Nevell Johnson Jr was killed at
Getty Images/ More video footage of crime scene
Officer Luis Alvarez’ attorney’s strange yet informative biography of the trial. He literally worshiped Officer Alvarez like he was a folk hero.
Google Books: The Crisis: Racial Injustice in Miami by Kevin Moss
“Cops Seal Off Overton”/ The Miami News December 29, 1982
Ned Troide: The Monster Among Us
Date: February 22, 1985
Location: State Road 580 Bridge, Oldsmar, Florida
He ate speed like M & M’s and robbed arcades at night, a 16-year-old video game world champion who lived a secret life.
When on camera or being interviewed by press throughout 1982, he cultivated the apple pie and ice cream “good boy” image that boomer society sucked up like a strawberry-vanilla milkshake, by saying he hoped to study computer programming at the University of Southern Florida in the Fall. But truth be told, all Ned Troide wanted to do was get high, and play video games. University was the furthest thing from his mind, and anyone who knew him well knew that.
In 1982, Troide allegedly set a “world record” by scoring 50,999,975 on Defender (Williams 1980) at Video Captain arcade in Clearwater, FL. High score arbiter Twin Galaxies‘ had been planning a project with LIFE magazine for months, and in late 1982 they were still trying to assemble a specially hand-picked line up of high scorers to participate in the photo shoot. Troide’s massive Defender score, and allegedly several after that, landed him a spot in the LIFE magazine photo which was published in January 1983’s Year In Pictures, where he briefly became a local celebrity in his Florida hometown due to Twin Galaxies acting as a press agent for him.
Allegedly Troide played 50+ hours on Defender in 1982 using only a single quarter. I’ve no doubt that he was a skilled player. No doubt whatsoever. But some of his scores don’t add up: Two months later, according to Twin Galaxies, his score suddenly swelled to 72,999, 975. Decades later, Troide’s friends claimed that they all took turns on the game during Troide’s 50+ hour marathons while he slept in his car whenever he got tired. This way they were able to swell the score to the astronomical heights that a single player would need 60 to 70 hours of non-stop playing to achieve. They also claimed that the manager of at least two Florida arcades were in on the scam. After all, Defender high scores were as good as gold back in 1982.
In 1982, having a massive score on Defender carried not only major street cred in the arcade but it was a sure-fire way to get the player and the arcade owner instant national press which could lead to tournament sponsorship, industry recognition and other lucrative benefits. The reason is: Steve Juraszek.
Contrary to what you’ve read about who the first true celebrity gamers were, I can guarantee that it is not who you think they are.
Steve Juraszek, Arlington Heights, IL, one of the first superstar competitive gamers of the North American Video Craze (NAVC 1978-1984) broke a long-standing record on Defender in December of 1981, at One Step Beyond arcade, in Mt Prospect, IL. Unlike other marathoners across the nation who were lucky if just the local press showed up, the press didn’t just “show up” for Juraszek, they promoted him nationally. By January of 1982 he was deemed the first “video game athlete” and was signed to the American Videogame Athletic Association (AVAA), the Wisconsin-based organization founded by pioneer competitive gaming firebrand Dennis DeNure in 1981 and whose style of operations pre-dates Twin Galaxies. Jurasek was featured in the 1982 January edition of Time Magazine. Both Midway and Williams Electronics then offered the 16-year old dream jobs in their game development sectors. Juraszek chose to work part-time for Williams Electronics since they were the creators of Defender. He was the first gamer to break through into the industry simply by just setting a world record on a video game.
So, throughout 1982 every arcade in North America, no doubt hoping the success of Juraszek could be duplicated again, wanted their very own “Defender Champ” even if they had to manufacture one. If you had a scoreboard and even just a modicum of authority and a few guys pulling for you in your local press, you could arrange it pretty easily. It may not turn out like it did for Juraszek, but it would certainly grab some attention.
In the November of 1982, Ned Troide and his father drove from Florida to Twin Galaxies in Ottumwa, Iowa, and stood in the freezing cold outside of Twin Galaxies to be immortalized within the pages of LIFE magazine’s Year In Pictures. The issue would hit newsstands in January of 1983, a year after Juraszek’s inaugural appearance in Time Magazine.
But unbeknownst to many who met Troide at the photo shoot, Troide was already under investigation for a string of burglaries back home in Florida. By the time December rolled around, he was facing numerous felony charges from five different burglaries (mostly arcades) throughout November and December of 1982. In fact, he was the leader of an organized burglary ring who regularly broke into businesses to steal arcade tokens, cash, coins and various other valuables such as electronic equipment and alcohol.
The week that the LIFE magazine feature dropped, Troide was arrested, charged and released on bail. In April 1983, Troide (now 18) was found guilty of 17 counts of burglary, grand theft, criminal mischief and receiving stolen property. He was sentenced to two years in prison and eight years of probation. The speed he traveled from a nationally celebrated video game champion to felon was shocking.
One would think that after all of this Troide would have learned his lesson and got his act together while he was still young enough to change his future. But then maybe expecting a future sainthood for a 20-year old who’d just spent two years in prison with a bunch of hardened and violent Florida felons is rather wishful thinking. Either way, he came out worse than he went in and no doubt partially from the emotional trauma of it all.
And this is where the real horror story of Ned Troide begins.
Sometime around or before 1985, after being paroled from prison, Ned Troide fell in with a group of really bad guys and began spending his time getting high and doing basically nothing with his life except barely –and I mean barely– escaping parole violations. On February 22, 1985, after an evening of LSD, heavy drinking and various other drugs, Troide, now 22, Michael Clifford, 18, and Robert Franscella (19) saw a young woman stumbling in a drunken manner along the side of the road. Instead of offering to help her or just driving on, Troide and Clifford decided to abduct her instead. Franscella said he didn’t want any part of it and asked to be taken home. He was told that was fine, but only after they grabbed the woman first. Franscella did not try to stop them, citing Troide’s massive build from lifting weights in prison and that he could easily bench press 400lbs as a deterrent.
Troide jumped out of the car and approached the woman, putting his hand on her shoulders, while Clifford came up behind her. The woman bolted and ran but was pursued and knocked unconscious by Troide with a punch to the head. One of the men, either Troide or Clifford, stuffed her into the trunk of the car where she was driven to another location (most likely to drop off Franscella) and removed to the trunk of another car. Due to being heavily intoxicated and suffering a concussion from Troide’s punch, she passed out. She awoke when she felt the car traveling over a bumpy dirt road.
In an isolated stretch of Palm Harbor woods near 21st Street and Nebraska Avenue, in what was at the time known as “the wastelands”, Ned Troide raped, beat and sodomized the woman repeatedly. After the sexual assault, Troide tried to punch the woman unconscious by viciously beating her, giving her karate chops to the neck, and striking her with the hilt of a hunting knife, but the woman was stronger than he thought. Beating her nearly unconscious again, he and Clifford wrapped her in a blanket, placed her in the trunk of the car, and used an extension cord to tie two concrete blocks to her legs. Troide and Clifford then drove to the State Road 580 Bridge in Oldsmar and threw the badly injured woman off the bridge and into the bay below in an attempt to murder her by drowning.
The woman fell around 40-feet into the water, the concrete blocks pulling her hard into the cold and muddy bay below. By some act of luck, the water in the bay was shallow enough so that the woman could keep her head above water long enough to wrestle the concrete blocks from her legs. She waded to shore and, completely naked and covered in mud, flagged a car down and was carried away to safety. She was lucky to be alive.
On September 15, 1985, police raided Robert Frascella’s home on suspicions of robbing a slew of convenience stores in the area. Mind you, Frascella was Troide’s friend who’d asked to be taken home on that night back in February, when Troide and Clifford abducted and raped a woman. It so happens that both Clifford and Troide were at Frascella’s house on the night police kicked the door in, and since both Troide and Clifford were on probation from prison, they were taken in, too. Perhaps to plea bargain for lesser charges for the armed robbery, Frascella confessed to police that he’d seen Troide and Clifford beat and abduct a woman. Troide and Clifford were put into a line-up and their victim was called in. She identified them as her attackers.
Ned Troide was sentenced to 22 years in prison after accepting a plea bargain which spared him a much harsher sentence. Michael Clifford was sentenced to 27 years in prison.
In 2007, artist Paul Davies created a stir in the classic arcade community long used to eccentric personalities running amok in it, by surfacing under the name “Ned Troide”, claiming that he was now an artist. It was amusing how many people believed it.
Also in 2007, the producers of the Twin Galaxies documentary “Chasing Ghosts: Beyond The Arcade” attempted to track down Ned Troide, by that time paroled and living with his mother, and were turned away by her at the door.
Sources:
Video 1982 Life Magazine Photo Shoot/ International Video Game Hall of Fame and Museum
“A Quarter Lasted 50 Hours For Video Game Champion”
The Tampa Bay Times, August 9, 1982
“Video Game Champ Gets Recognition”
The Tampa Bay Times, Dec 31, 1982
“Video Game Champion a Loser in Court”
April 19, 1983, The Tampa Bay Times
“Police Arrest Two in Murder Conspiracy, Another For Robbery”
The Tampa Bay Times, November 16, 1985
“Pinella’s Victim Recounts Night of Terror”
The Tampa Tribune November 14, 1986
Really illuminating yet unsurprisingly depressing piece. Great work.
You are an amazing writer. I was researching the Just Games Massacre and your article popped up. I will follow your work!
Thank you so much.
Your story on the Just Games shooting is close but not 100% right. Barker lived just doors down from where I lived. He got only 17 years in prison, He had a younger sister and his mother was never really in control of him. He would go back and forth from his mothers house in Mt Prospect and somewhere in Chicago. What I herd as the reason for the shooting is someone said he ripped off a bike and they were looking for Barker. James would run around with this person from Chicago named Mary, both were strange and somewhat wacked out, drugs played a big part in their behaviors. As for him being a big gamer, I don’t remember him being that at all. More like a big druggie with lots of problems and a messed up home life. As for knowing what truly was going on in his head only James would know. I was pretty surprised by the news of what happened as he lived so close to us. Just goes to show you never really know who is living in your neighborhood. Oh by the way the pinball machines would keep the highest scores but would not put a name to them. I don’t ever remember a board with any names of high scores at Just Games. A lot of whet on at Just Games was looking for Pot to smoke or buy and all the other things people were doing at that time. It was the neighborhood hangout.
Hey, thanks for your opinion on this. I love eye witness intetactions
Thanks, I love receiving comments from people who were there, or who were in the area. If you remember anything else, feel free to reach out. I value input from others.
Two eye witnesses told me about the “high score board”. As a pinball and arcade game collecter, I’m well aware that games at that time didn’t keep score. That was left to the operator to do it or not.
You’d be surprised to know that since I wrote this story, over 20 people have come forward about Barker including two former police officers and an EMT who were on duty that day. You’re the 4th person to mention “Mary”, so I believe you. The prison time that Barker served is all over the place as far as time went. I don’t think anyone knows for sure how long his sentence was. I’d really like to know for sure.
This whole story of what went down that day is chilling and sad. I’m really sorry for all who were affected by it.
I’m pretty sure it was 17 years as my sister was at his court date. My sister use to talk with him on a daily bases when he was around. As far as him with a girl friend in Mt. Prospect I don’t think so, I think his girlfriend was Mary, you would see him with her all the time. Mary would only be around Mt. Prospect when James was around. As far as the gun goes, I don’t know of anywhere you could of fired off a gun without someone hearing it go off around Mt. Prospect at the time. My sister passed away about 8 years ago and would of known a lot more about this as she was interviewed by the police. A lot of trouble would go on around Just Games as it was the place that many would go to from around the area. Just Games was like the Game Room from the movie Dazed and Confused. My sister would talk to just about anyone as she was a very pretty girl and all the guys would want to talk with her even if she didn’t really like them. James didn’t really fit into the Mt. Prospect landscape that I can remember and was not seen around the normal group of regulars in the neighborhood. I never seen Mary with any other guys beside James. James seemed as the last person that you would of though as a person to fear, there was a lot of other people around that I would of been more worried about. Just goes to show, you never know what someone is really thinking behind them eyes. My sister ran with her group of people and I stay in my own group. I wonder if Mary was around on that day? I don’t remember if she was. Did you ever find out where Barker is at today? Is he still even alive? I moved out of IL many years ago and don’t know of anyone from there anymore. that was a whole other lifetime ago.
Hey, great to hear from you again.
About Barker practice shooting: Most of the Chicago newspaper stories mention him doing that.
I’m not clear on how many years he served but 17 could be it. No one knows for sure. I did locate a “James Barker” of appropriate advanced age in Illinois but I can’t confirm that it’s him. I did have someone contact me and tell me that he was in Ohio yet I’ve no proof of that. Another told me Missouri. Who knows?
I never assume anything. I need documented proof before I believe anything. If I do propose a theory based on clues or partial facts, I’ll state that it’s a theory or based on partial info.
I would love to find “Mary”. There’s no doubt in my mind that she could provide considerable insight into what was going on with Barker at the time.
A screenwriter from Los Angeles has shown interest in this story recently. All of them in the Darkade piece, actually. I’ve added you to the list of people who could provide unknown information to him.
Again, thank you for coming forward. I appreciate it greatly.