A 9-year-old girl knocked on her neighbor’s door on Halloween night 1973 and vanished without a trace.

Over 5,000 people joined the search.

3 days later, her body was found in garbage bags on a country road.

Police arrested the neighbor she trusted.

He confessed.

He went to prison.

But here’s the twist that shocked everyone.

Decades later, he walked free.

not once but twice, sparking a legal battle that’s still raging today in 2025.

This is the case that changed Halloween forever and created a law that now traps its own creator.

Welcome to Cold Case Desk, Halloween night.

The one night of the year when children walk streets after dark, knocking on strangers doors.

For most kids, it’s magic.

But for one family in a small Wisconsin town, it became the nightmare that never ended.

This is the story of Lisa Anne French, 9 years old, brown eyes, shag haircut, a girl scout who wanted to help her classmates.

And on October 31st, 1973, she put on a hobo costume, and walked out her front door into the chilly autumn evening.

She never came home.

But this story doesn’t end with her death.

Because the man who killed her set in motion a chain of events that would transform Wisconsin law, change how an entire state celebrates Halloween and create one of the most controversial legal battles in American history.

A battle that’s still happening right now, more than 50 years later.

The killer’s name is Gerald Turner.

He confessed to the murder.

He served time.

He was released.

He violated parole.

He went back to prison.

He was released again.

And every single time, the public exploded in rage.

Why? Because Gerald Turner is exactly the type of predator parents fear most.

The friendly neighbor, the familiar face, the person who lived next door and pushed your baby in a stroller down the street.

Lisa French trusted him, and that trust destroyed her.

Let’s start with Lisa herself because she deserves to be more than just a victim.

She was a real person with dreams and personality and people who loved her.

Lisa Anne French was born on June 2nd, 1964 in Oshkosh, Wisconsin.

Her parents were Alan French and Maryanne Borovich.

When she was young, her parents divorced and Lisa moved with her mother to Fonduak, a small city of about 35,000 people along the shore of Lake Wnebago.

By 1973, Lisa’s mother had remarried to a man named Bruce Depau.

The family lived on Rose Avenue in a neighborhood where everybody knew everybody.

Lisa had just gained a baby half-brother named Michael.

She was a fourth grader at Chegwin Elementary School.

Her teachers and classmates remember a kind girl, thoughtful, the type of kid who noticed when someone needed help.

One time, Lisa asked her mother if she could bring extra clothes to school for a classmate whose family didn’t have much money.

That was Lisa.

She saw someone struggling and wanted to do something about it.

She was also a girl scout, active in her troop, always ready to help with projects and activities.

She wore her hair in that trendy 1970s shag style, and she had these deep brown eyes that people remembered.

The neighborhood on Rose Avenue felt safe.

Parents let their kids walk to friends houses unsupervised.

Children played outside until dinnertime.

Everyone looked out for each other’s kids.

It was the kind of place where you left your doors unlocked and waved to neighbors as you drove past.

Just down the block from Lisa’s house at 152 Rose Avenue lived a young couple, Gerald Turner and his girlfriend Arleene Penn.

They had a daughter together, and Lisa knew them well.

In fact, the families had lived even closer before.

They’d previously shared a duplex, living literally on the other side of the wall from each other.

The families interacted all the time.

Lisa would often visit Turner’s house to push their baby daughter in a stroller down the street.

She’d show Turner new toys her parents had bought her, excited to share her happiness with someone she thought was a friend.

Turner always seemed happy to talk to her.

This wasn’t a stranger.

This was someone Lisa’s family trusted.

Someone Lisa herself trusted completely.

And that’s what makes this case so devastating.

October 1973 was an interesting time for Halloween in America.

Just a few years earlier, stories had started circulating about tampered candy.

Razor blades hidden in apples, poison in treats.

These stories created a nationwide panic, even though most turned out to be hoaxes or greatly exaggerated.

But the fear was real.

Parents across the country started taking precautions.

Some communities began organizing supervised Halloween parties as alternatives to traditional trick-or-treating.

Fondulac was one of those communities.

That year, neighborhood parents had organized an event called Pumpkin Place at a location on East Bank Street.

It was a controlled environment where kids could celebrate Halloween safely with activities and treats provided by adults they knew.

Lisa was excited about Pumpkin Place.

Her plan was to do a little trick-or-treating first, then meet her best friend and Parker, and together they’d walk to the community party.

Originally, Lisa wanted to dress as a butterfly.

It would have been beautiful.

But Wisconsin in late October gets cold, and her mother wisely suggested she choose something that would keep her warm under a coat.

So, Lisa became a hobo instead.

She wore jeans with blue masking tape decorating them, a green parka to keep warm, and a black felt floppy hat that she absolutely loved.

Her mother drew freckles on her cheeks to complete the look.

Around 5:45 that evening, after eating dinner, Lisa kissed her mother, Maryanne, and her soon-to-be stepfather, Bruce, goodbye.

She promised to be home by 7:00.

Her curfew was strict, but Lisa was a responsible kid.

She always followed the rules.

Maryanne watched her daughter walk out the door into the twilight.

It was the last time she would see Lisa alive.

Here’s what we know about Lisa’s movements that evening, pieced together from witness statements and later from Turner’s own confession.

Lisa’s first stop was a classmate’s house directly across the street from her own home.

She knocked on the door, said trick or treat, received candy, and left.

Nothing unusual.

Her second stop was the home of her teacher, Karen Balconck.

Again, she knocked, received candy, chatted briefly, and continued on her way.

These visits were confirmed by multiple witnesses.

Lisa was happy, excited, doing exactly what millions of other American children were doing that same night.

Somewhere between 6:00 and 6:30, Lisa arrived at 152 Rose Avenue, Gerald Turner’s house, the friendly neighbor who’d always been kind to her, the man whose baby she’d pushed in a stroller, someone she had absolutely no reason to fear.

She knocked on the door.

Gerald Turner answered, and Lisa Anne French’s life ended in that moment, even though her physical death wouldn’t come for a little while longer.

What happened next comes from Turner’s own confession which he would provide 9 months later, but we’ll get to that.

For now, we need to follow the timeline as it happened that night.

At 7:00, Lisa’s curfew passed.

She didn’t come home.

Maryanne Garing started to worry.

It wasn’t like Lisa to be late.

She was a responsible girl who followed rules.

Maryanne checked the time again.

7:15 7:30 Where was her daughter? By 8:00, Maryanne couldn’t wait any longer.

She walked outside and began asking neighbors if they’d seen Lisa.

Had she stopped by their houses? Did they see which direction she’d gone? Nobody had seen her recently.

Some neighbors had seen her earlier in the evening, trick-or-treating as planned, but nobody had seen her for the past couple of hours.

Word spread quickly through the neighborhood.

Other parents joined the search.

They walked up and down Rose Avenue, calling Lisa’s name.

They checked backyards, alleyways, any place a small girl might have wandered.

Nothing.

By 10:00 that night, the Fonduak Police Department was officially involved.

What had started as a worried mother looking for her daughter had become a full-scale missing child investigation.

Officers began systematically interviewing everyone in the neighborhood.

They asked every household the same questions.

Did you see Lisa French tonight? Did she come to your door for trick or treat? When did you last see her? Did you notice anything unusual? The police contacted more than 50 families that night, asking everyone to turn on their porch lights in case Lisa was lost or injured somewhere nearby.

The lights stayed on all night.

People stayed up watching their windows, hoping to spot the little girl in the hobo costume walking safely home.

But Lisa wasn’t lost.

She wasn’t injured and hiding somewhere, unable to call for help.

Lisa was already dead.

During that frantic Halloween night, investigators eventually made their way to 152 Rose Avenue.

They knocked on Gerald Turner’s door.

Turner’s girlfriend, Arlene Penn, answered.

She told police that yes, she’d taken their daughter to Pumpkin Place that evening, but no, she hadn’t seen Lisa French.

Her boyfriend, Gerald, was home, though.

He could talk to them if they wanted.

Turner came to the door.

He spoke with officers.

He said he’d been home all evening because he wasn’t feeling well.

He’d stayed in while Arlene took their daughter to the Halloween party.

No, he hadn’t seen Lisa French.

No, she hadn’t come to their door for trick or treat.

He wished he could help, but he didn’t know anything.

The officers thanked him and moved on to the next house.

Turner’s story matched his girlfriend’s account.

And why wouldn’t it? There was no reason to suspect the friendly neighbor who seemed genuinely concerned about the missing girl.

But here’s what Arleene Penn didn’t know that night.

Here’s what she would only learn later.

When Turner finally confessed when she’d returned home from Pumpkin Place around 7:00, she’d found Turner lying on the couch in his bathrobe.

He told her he was sick.

He needed to rest.

He kept getting up and going to the bedroom, then coming back to the living room, then going back to the bedroom again.

Arlene thought it was odd behavior for someone who claimed to be sick, but she didn’t think too much of it.

Turner insisted he needed quiet, so she decided to take their daughter and visit her mother.

They left around 8:00.

What Arlene didn’t know was that Turner wasn’t sick at all.

He was terrified because just on the other side of the bedroom wall in the connected bathroom lay the body of a 9-year-old girl.

Every time Arlene got up to move around the apartment, Turner panicked.

What if she decided to use that particular bathroom? What if she opened the door? What if their daughter needed something and went looking in there? He couldn’t sit still.

He kept checking on the body, making sure it was still hidden.

His mind was racing, trying to figure out what to do.

When Arlene finally left to visit her mother, Turner had his opportunity.

He went to work.

Turner knew he needed to get rid of the body, and he needed to do it fast.

His girlfriend could return at any moment.

Neighbors were already outside searching for Lisa.

Police might start doing door-to-door searches of homes.

Time was running out.

He grabbed two brown plastic garbage bags from under the kitchen sink.

Turner put socks on his hands like makeshift gloves.

He’d watched enough crime shows to know about fingerprints.

He couldn’t leave any evidence.

He went to the bathroom where he’d hidden Lisa’s body.

Carefully placed her nude corpse into one garbage bag.

He put her Halloween costume, the green parka, the jeans with blue tape, the black felt hat she’d loved into the second bag.

He carried both bags out to his car and put them in the trunk.

Then Turner got in the driver’s seat and left his neighborhood.

Outside, people were still searching.

Parents walked the streets calling Lisa’s name.

Porch lights blazed on every house, but nobody stopped Turner.

Nobody thought twice about a neighbor driving past.

Turner headed south on Highway 49, away from Fondulac.

He drove about 4 miles to the town of Titta.

There, along the cave road, he spotted a farm field behind a barbed wire fence.

Remote, dark, perfect.

Turner pulled over, grabbed the two garbage bags from his trunk, and threw them over the fence into the field.

Then he got back in his car, and drove home.

By the time Arlene returned with their daughter, Turner was back on the couch, still claiming to be sick.

She had no idea what had just happened.

No idea that while she was visiting her mother, her boyfriend, had been disposing of a child’s body.

November 1st, 1973, the morning after Halloween.

Lisa French had now been missing for approximately 12 hours.

This was no longer just a worried parent situation.

This was a full-scale emergency.

The Fondulac Police Department organized the largest search operation in the city’s history.

But they didn’t do it alone.

The community responded with incredible force.

By midday on November 1st, more than 5,000 people had volunteered to search for Lisa French.

Let me repeat that number because it’s staggering.

5,000 volunteers.

In a city of only about 35,000 people, more than 1 in seven residents joined the search effort.

Think about what that means.

Teachers left their classrooms.

Business owners closed their shops.

Parents brought their older children to help look.

Everyone who could possibly help did so.

The search wasn’t random.

Organizers divided Fonduac into grid sections.

Teams of volunteers walked every street, checked every yard, looked behind every building.

Nothing was overlooked.

700 block parents.

People who’d volunteered their homes as safe places for neighborhood children joined the search.

Auxiliary police officers came in from surrounding communities.

The US National Guard provided helicopters to search from the air.

Lisa’s fellow Girl Scouts participated, walking neighborhoods and posting flyers.

Mercury Marines photo lab worked over time to print 6,000 copies of Lisa’s school photo.

These flyers went up everywhere.

Grocery stores, gas stations, churches, schools, telephone poles.

Local gas stations made an extraordinary offer.

They would provide 25 free gallons of fuel to anyone using their vehicle to help search for Lisa.

That’s roughly $150 worth of gas in today’s money per person.

Multiple stations made this offer.

The community was determined to find this little girl.

Search teams combed through the woods around Fondulac.

They checked abandoned buildings.

They searched along the shores of Lake Wnebago.

They looked in culverts and drainage ditches.

Police and volunteers walked farm fields in the surrounding countryside.

For 3 days, the search continued.

November 1st, November 2nd.

November 3rd, and then on the morning of November 3rd, a farmer named Gerald Brawn made a discovery that ended all hope.

It was approximately 11:30 in the morning on Saturday, November 3rd, 1973.

Gerald Braun was driving his tractor home along McCabe Road in Tida about 4 miles south of Fonduak.

As he drove past a farm field, something caught his eye behind the barbed wire fence.

Two brown plastic garbage bags.

Now in rural Wisconsin, it’s not that unusual to see garbage along country roads.

People illegally dump trash.

But Bronn had heard about the missing girl.

Everyone in the area had heard.

The search had been all over the news.

Something made him stop.

Maybe instinct.

Maybe just good citizenship.

Maybe divine intervention if you believe in that sort of thing.

Bronn climbed off his tractor and walked over to the fence.

He could see the bags more clearly now.

They were tied at the top.

They looked heavy.

He knew.

Somehow he knew.

Bronn didn’t touch the bags.

Instead, he immediately drove to the nearest phone and called the police.

Officers arrived within minutes.

Deputy Wayne G was one of the first on scene.

They approached the two bags carefully.

Even before opening them, they feared what they would find.

The officers untied the first bag and looked inside.

The nude body of a small girl.

Brown hair.

The size and age matched Lisa French perfectly.

The second bag contained clothing, a green parka, jeans with blue masking tape, a black felt hat.

Deputy G later described his reaction.

It was the worst possible thing that could have happened.

I saw that little girl and I don’t know how any man could do that.

By noon, the field was swarming with investigators.

the Fonduac County Sheriff’s Department, the Wisconsin State Crime Lab, the Medical Examiner’s Office.

The area was cordoned off with police tape.

News spread through Fonduak like wildfire.

The search was over.

Lisa had been found, but instead of relief, there was only heartbreak and rage.

A 9-year-old Girl Scout who’d done nothing wrong except trust the wrong person was dead.

Her Halloween costume would never be worn again.

She would never grow up, never graduate, never have a family of her own.

Someone had taken all of that from her.

And the question on everyone’s mind was simple.

Who? The Fondu Lac County Medical Examiner performed an autopsy on Lisa’s body that same day.

The findings were devastating, but provided crucial information for investigators.

Official cause of death, esphyxiation.

Lisa had been strangled or suffocated.

But there was more.

The pathologist noted that circulatory shock from sexual trauma had contributed to her death.

The examination documented severe vaginal and anal tearing.

Lisa had been violently sexually assaulted before she died.

One mercy, if it can be called that.

The medical examiner determined that Lisa had likely died relatively quickly.

The attack had been brutal and fatal.

Police now knew they were looking for someone capable of extreme violence against children.

Someone with no conscience, no empathy, no humanity.

The investigation shifted into high gear.

Remember, this was 1973.

DNA analysis wouldn’t be developed until the 1980s.

Modern forensic techniques that we take for granted today simply didn’t exist.

But that doesn’t mean investigators had nothing to work with.

The Wisconsin State Crime Lab processed everything carefully.

They examined Lisa’s body under microscopes.

They analyzed the garbage bags.

They looked at every fiber from her clothing.

Here’s what they found.

First, body hair.

Several strands of body hair were found on Lisa’s skin and clothing.

The hair was male, adult, and came from below the neck.

Investigators carefully preserved these samples.

Second fibers.

Multiple textile fibers were found on Lisa’s body and costume.

These fibers were distinctive, a particular color and material that didn’t match Lisa’s own clothing.

Third, biological evidence.

This was 1973.

Remember, they couldn’t do DNA testing, but they could do blood type analysis.

Semen stains on Lisa’s body were tested and typed.

Fourth, trace evidence from the garbage bags.

Even though the killer had been careful, microscopic evidence remained.

All of this evidence was cataloged and stored.

Investigators knew they would need it to build a case.

But first, they needed a suspect.

Captain Melvin Heler of the Fawn Dulac Police Department led the investigation.

He was a seasoned detective, methodical, and thorough.

Heler and his team started with what they knew for certain.

Lisa had visited two houses that were confirmed.

Her classmate across the street and her teacher, Karen Ba Connect.

After that, she disappeared.

The timeline was tight.

Lisa left home around 5:45.

She hit those two houses before 6:30.

Her body was discovered about 4 miles away in Taichida.

Whoever killed Lisa had to have grabbed her before 7:00, killed her quickly, and disposed of the body before the massive search began that night.

This wasn’t a random snatch and grab by a stranger driving through the neighborhood.

This was someone local, someone who knew the area, someone Lisa felt comfortable approaching.

Investigators went door to door on Rose Avenue and the surrounding streets asking everyone the same question.

Did Lisa come to your house for trick or treat? They got responses from dozens of households.

No, she didn’t.

Come here.

No, we didn’t see her.

No, we haven’t seen anything unusual.

But something bothered Heler.

Statistical evidence from other child abduction cases showed that most victims knew their attackers.

Children don’t usually go willingly with complete strangers.

They go with people they trust.

So Heler asked Lisa’s mother a critical question.

Which neighbors did Lisa know well enough to visit without hesitation? Which houses would she feel completely safe approaching? Maryanne thought about it.

She mentioned several families, longtime neighbors, family friends, and then she mentioned Gerald Turner at 152 Rose Avenue.

Heler made a note of the name.

Turner.

The families had lived in the same duplex before.

Lisa knew Turner well.

She’d even babysat his daughter informally, pushing the baby in a stroller around the neighborhood.

Heler decided to talk to Turner again.

Over the next several weeks, investigators interviewed Gerald Turner multiple times.

Each conversation was documented carefully.

Turner’s story remained consistent.

At first, he’d been home sick that Halloween night.

He hadn’t seen Lisa.

She hadn’t come to his door.

He didn’t know anything about what happened to her.

But as the interviews continued, detectives started noticing small inconsistencies, little details that didn’t quite line up.

Nothing dramatic, but enough to keep Turner on their radar.

Meanwhile, forensic analysis was continuing, and some of the results were interesting.

Remember those body hair samples found on Lisa’s body? Investigators needed comparison samples from potential suspects.

They asked Turner if he would voluntarily provide hair samples.

Turner agreed.

He gave investigators hair samples from multiple parts of his body.

When the crime lab compared them, they found something significant.

The hairs were consistent in color and characteristics.

They couldn’t prove definitively that the hair on Lisa’s body came from Turner with 1973 technology, but they also couldn’t rule it out.

Then there were the textile fibers.

Investigators obtained a search warrant for Turner’s home.

They were particularly interested in his bedroom.

On Turner’s bed was a bedspread in a distinctive color.

The crime lab analyzed fibers from this bedspread and compared them to fibers found on Lisa’s body.

Match.

The fibers were consistent.

Again, this wasn’t definitive proof with 1970s technology, but it was highly suggestive.

Lisa had been in contact with Turner’s bedspread at some point around the time of her death.

Investigators also tested the semen stains found on Lisa’s body.

Blood type analysis showed they matched Turner’s blood type.

Circumstantial, but mounting.

And there was one more thing.

When police searched Turner’s car, they found microscopic fibers that matched Lisa’s Halloween costume.

Turner had transported something in his vehicle that had been in contact with Lisa’s clothing.

The circumstantial evidence was piling up, but Heler knew he needed more.

In America, you can’t convict someone just because the evidence is suggestive.

You need proof beyond a reasonable doubt.

Heler needed a confession.

By August of 1974, 9 months after Lisa’s murder, investigators had built a solid circumstantial case against Gerald Turner.

But they still couldn’t definitively prove he’d killed her.

Turner had been cooperative throughout the investigation, always willing to answer questions.

But he also maintained his innocence.

Investigators decided to ask Turner to take a polygraph exam.

For those who don’t know, a polygraph measures physiological responses like heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, and skin conductivity, while a subject answers questions.

The theory is that lying causes stress, and stress causes measurable physical changes.

It’s important to note that polygraph results are not admissible as evidence in most courts because they’re not considered reliable enough, but they can be useful investigative tools.

If someone passes a polygraph, it might indicate they’re telling the truth.

If they fail, it gives investigators more reason to dig deeper.

Turner agreed to take the test.

On August 2nd, 1974, he sat down with a polygraph examiner at the Fawn Duak Police Department.

The examiner asked control questions first to establish baseline responses.

Then he moved to the relevant questions.

Did you kill Lisa French? Do you know who killed Lisa French? Did you see Lisa French on Halloween night? When the test was over, the examiner analyzed the results.

The findings inconclusive.

Turner’s responses didn’t clearly indicate deception, but they also didn’t clearly indicate truth.

Some of his physiological responses during key questions were unusual, but not definitively indicating lies.

Investigators decided to ask Turner to take a second polygraph test, hoping to get clearer results.

The second test was scheduled for August 8th, 1974.

Turner initially agreed, but as the date approached, something changed.

August 8th, 1974.

Turner was scheduled for his second polygraph test.

Instead of refusing outright, Turner showed up at the Fonduac safety building as requested, but he didn’t want to take the test.

He wanted to talk.

Investigator Anderson sat down with Turner in an interview room.

Turner seemed nervous, fidgety.

He waved his right to have an attorney present.

And then Turner asked a strange hypothetical question.

What if Lisa French’s death was an accident? Anderson kept his expression neutral.

What do you mean? Turner started talking.

He posed a scenario.

Not admitting anything, he said, just theoretically speaking.

What if someone hadn’t meant to hurt Lisa? What if things had gotten out of hand? What if her death had been accidental? Anderson listened carefully.

This was a classic approach used by guilty suspects, testing the waters with hypothetical scenarios before fully confessing.

He encouraged Turner to keep talking.

No judgment, just conversation.

For 2 hours, Turner and Anderson talked.

Turner slowly moved from hypotheticals to something more direct.

He started using first person.

I instead of someone and then finally Gerald Turner confessed.

Turner’s confession was typed up as a five-page statement.

He signed every page.

Here’s what Turner admitted.

On Halloween night 1973, around 6:00, Lisa French knocked on his door saying trick or treat.

When he saw her standing there in her hobo costume with that black felt hat, wearing that trusting smile because she knew him and felt safe with him.

Turner said he felt highly sexually motivated.

He invited Lisa inside.

His girlfriend and daughter were at Pumpkin Place, so he was alone.

Lisa trusted him completely.

She followed him into the house without hesitation.

Turner led Lisa to his bedroom.

He told her he had some special candy to give her.

She believed him.

Once they were in the bedroom, Turner’s intentions became clear.

He began undressing Lisa.

At some point, the 9-year-old girl must have realized something terrible was happening, but it was too late.

Turner admitted to committing anal intercourse with Lisa.

The forensic evidence had already confirmed this, so denial was pointless.

Then Turner claimed he noticed Lisa had stopped breathing.

He said he tried to revive her by pressing on her chest, but nothing worked.

Here’s where Turner’s story becomes self-erving.

He claimed her death was accidental, that he hadn’t meant to kill her.

But the medical examiner had determined Lisa died from asphixxiation.

Turner had strangled or suffocated her either during the assault or immediately after.

Whether Lisa’s death was technically during the rape or immediately after doesn’t really matter legally or morally.

Turner killed her.

That’s what matters.

After Lisa was dead, Turner panicked.

He pulled on his bathrobe and laid down on the couch, trying to look casual in case his girlfriend came home early.

Around 7:00, Arlene Penn did come home.

She found Turner on the couch claiming to be sick, but Turner was terrified.

Lisa’s body was in the bathroom connected to the bedroom.

Any moment Arlene might discover it.

Turner kept getting up and checking on the body, making sure it was still hidden.

Arlene thought his behavior was odd, but attributed it to illness.

When Arlene finally left around 8:00 to visit her mother, Turner had his window.

He retrieved two brown plastic garbage bags from the kitchen.

He put socks on his hands to avoid leaving fingerprints.

He carefully wiped down Lisa’s shoes and the zipper on her parka, trying to eliminate any fingerprints he might have left.

Turner placed Lisa’s body in one bag.

He put her Halloween costume in the second bag.

He carried both bags to his car and drove south on Highway 49 to Tay Cheetah.

Along McCabe Road, he spotted a farm field behind a barbed wire fence.

He threw both bags over the fence into the field.

Then he drove home, got back on the couch, and waited for his girlfriend to return.

According to Turner’s statement, he felt relieved after confessing.

He told investigator Anderson he was glad to get the whole thing off the top of his head.

On August 9th, 1974, Gerald Miles Turner Jr.

was arrested and charged with the murder of Lisa Anne French.

The community reaction was immediate and intense.

People had suspected Turner for months.

Now their suspicions were confirmed.

The friendly neighbor who’d seemed so normal had killed a child in the most horrific way imaginable.

Lisa’s mother, Maryanne, was devastated, but also grimly satisfied.

Finally, there would be justice for her daughter.

Or so everyone thought.

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After Turner’s arrest in August 1974, Fondu Lac County prosecutors began building their case for trial.

The lead prosecutor knew this would be a high-profile case.

The entire community had followed Lisa’s disappearance and death.

Thousands of people had participated in the search.

Everyone wanted justice.

But the prosecutor also knew that Turner’s defense attorney would challenge everything, starting with the confession itself.

In American criminal law, a confession is only admissible if it was given voluntarily.

If police coerced or forced a suspect to confess, that confession gets thrown out, no matter how detailed or accurate it is.

Turner’s attorney would almost certainly claim the confession was coerced.

They would argue that nine months of repeated police questioning had worn Turner down psychologically.

They would say he confessed just to make the harassment stop, not because he was actually guilty.

So, the prosecution needed more than just the confession.

They needed the physical evidence.

They needed witnesses.

They needed a complete bulletproof case.

The trial was scheduled for January 1975.

That gave prosecutors about 5 months to prepare.

Let’s review what physical evidence prosecutors had by the time trial began.

First, the body hair samples.

Multiple strands of male body hair found on Lisa’s corpse and clothing.

Comparison tests showed these hairs were consistent with samples taken from Gerald Turner in 1974, before DNA testing.

This wasn’t definitive proof, but it was strong circumstantial evidence.

Second, the textile fibers.

Fibers found on Lisa’s body matched the bedspread in Turner’s bedroom.

This suggested Lisa had been in contact with Turner’s bed around the time of her death.

Again, circumstantial, but highly suggestive.

Third, the semen evidence.

Blood type analysis of semen stains.

Lisa’s body matched Turner’s blood type.

Millions of men share that blood type, so this alone wouldn’t convict him, but combined with other evidence, it was significant.

Fourth, fibers in Turner’s vehicle.

Microscopic analysis found fibers in Turner’s car that matched Lisa’s Halloween costume.

This suggested her clothing had been in his vehicle, consistent with his confession that he’d transported her body.

Fifth, the garbage bags themselves.

While Turner had been careful to wear socks on his hands to avoid fingerprints, microscopic analysis found traces that could be matched to items in Turner’s home.

All of this evidence would be presented at trial, but prosecutors knew the strongest evidence was Turner’s own confession.

If they could prove it was voluntary and not coerced, Turner’s own words would convict him.

Turner’s defense attorney faced a difficult challenge.

How do you defend a client who has confessed to killing a child? The answer, you attack the confession itself.

The defense strategy became clear early on.

They would argue that Turner’s confession was false, coerced by months of police harassment and psychological pressure.

Think about it from the defense perspective.

Turner had been questioned repeatedly for 9 months.

Every time police learned something new, they called him back in for another interview.

They asked for hair samples.

They searched his home.

They searched his car.

They asked him to take a polygraph test, then asked him to take a second one.

The defense would argue this constituted a campaign of harassment designed to break Turner psychologically.

They would say an innocent man worn down by constant interrogation might confess to a crime he didn’t commit just to make the questioning stop.

It’s not as crazy as it sounds.

False confessions do happen.

People confess to crimes they didn’t commit for various reasons.

Mental illness, intellectual disability, youth and inexperience, or psychological breakdown under pressure.

So, the defense had a plausible argument.

Maybe Turner hadn’t killed Lisa at all.

Maybe he’d just been worn down by aggressive police tactics.

There was only one problem with this defense strategy, the physical evidence.

On January 27th, 1975, Gerald Turner’s trial began in Fonduac County Circuit Court.

The courtroom was packed.

Media from across Wisconsin covered the proceedings.

Lisa’s family sat in the front row facing the man who had killed their daughter.

Turner sat at the defense table, clean shaven, wearing a suit, looking nothing like the monster he truly was.

That’s one of the disturbing things about trials for heinous crimes.

The defendants often look completely normal.

They could be your neighbor, your coworker, someone you pass on the street.

Evil doesn’t always look evil.

The prosecution laid out their case methodically.

They presented the timeline of Halloween night, 1973.

They presented the physical evidence.

They brought in forensic experts to explain the hair samples, the fiber matches, the blood type analysis, and then they presented Turner’s confession.

The five-page typed statement where he admitted everything.

Turner’s defense attorney cross-examined every witness.

He questioned the reliability of the hair and fiber evidence.

He pointed out that the blood type match wasn’t unique to Turner.

He argued that the forensic evidence was merely consistent with Turner being the killer, not proof that he was the killer, but the defense’s main argument focused on the confession.

Turner took the stand in his own defense and testified.

I got sick and tired of being harassed by police calling on me.

He claimed the confession was false.

He said investigators had worn him down with repeated questioning.

He said he’d signed the confession just to make them leave him alone, even though it wasn’t true.

It was a bold strategy.

But it had one fatal flaw.

The prosecution had a surprise for the defense.

They had witnesses who would testify about Gerald Turner’s character and history.

Two ex-wives took the stand, then a former girlfriend.

One by one, these women described a pattern of violence and sexual assault.

The first ex-wife testified that Turner had repeatedly beaten her during their marriage.

She described incidents of rage where Turner had punched her, kicked her, and threatened her life.

She also testified that Turner had raped her multiple times.

When she refused sex, he would physically force her.

When she tried to leave, he would threaten to kill her.

The second ex-wife told a similar story.

physical abuse, sexual assault, a man who viewed women as objects to be controlled and used.

The former girlfriend described the same pattern.

Turner had seemed charming at first, but once the relationship became serious, he turned violent.

He would beat her when she made him angry.

He would force her to have sex when she didn’t want to.

He had no respect for her autonomy or consent.

The prosecution then revealed something that had been kept quiet.

In 1972, Turner had been charged with statutory rape of a 15-year-old babysitter.

The charges hadn’t resulted in a conviction, but the investigation had been thorough, and the evidence was compelling.

Turner had a history.

This wasn’t a one-time incident with Lisa French.

This was a pattern of sexual violence against women and girls.

The jury listened to this testimony with growing horror.

This wasn’t a man who had been falsely accused.

This was a predator who had been getting away with violence for years.

The prosecution brought in their final witness.

Dr.

Robert Owens, the chief psychologist at Tida Correctional Institution.

Dr.

Owens had evaluated Turner extensively.

He had conducted multiple interviews, administered psychological tests, and reviewed Turner’s history.

His testimony was damning.

“Gerald Turner has a cold disregard for people, mainly females,” Dr.

Owens testified.

“He does not have conscience control to inhibit his impulses for pleasure.” In other words, Turner was a psychopath.

He lacked empathy.

He viewed other people, especially women and girls, as objects to be used for his own gratification.

He had no internal moral compass preventing him from acting on his violent impulses.

Dr.

Owens explained that Turner’s confession was almost certainly truthful because it contained details only the killer would know.

the location of the body, the two garbage bags, the specific way Lisa had been assaulted.

A false confession, Dr.

Owens explained, wouldn’t include those kinds of accurate details unless police had somehow fed them to the suspect.

And there was no evidence police had done that.

The defense tried to challenge Dr.

Owen’s credentials and methodology, but it was feudal.

His evaluation was thorough and professional.

The damage was done.

After both sides rested their cases, the judge gave the jury their instructions.

They would need to determine whether Gerald Turner was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt of killing Lisa and French.

The jury retired to deliberate.

They were out for almost 8 hours.

Think about that.

Eight hours of discussion, debate, reviewing evidence, and trying to reach a unanimous verdict.

Some people wonder why it took so long with a confession and all that physical evidence.

Shouldn’t it have been quick? But remember, American juries take their responsibility seriously.

Even in cases where guilt seems obvious, jurors carefully review every piece of evidence.

They discuss whether the prosecution has met the burden of proof.

They make sure they’re comfortable with their decision.

8 hours later, the jury sent word to the judge.

They had reached a verdict.

On February 4th, 1975, the jury returned to the courtroom.

The judge asked for the verdict.

The jury foreman stood and announced guilty on all counts.

Guilty of secondderee murder.

Guilty of enticing a child for immoral purposes.

Guilty of sexual perversion.

Guilty of indecent behavior with a child.

In the courtroom, Lisa’s family wept with relief.

Finally, justice.

Finally, the man who had killed their daughter would be held accountable.

Gerald Turner showed no emotion.

He sat at the defense table, expression blank, as if the verdict had nothing to do with him.

The judge scheduled sentencing for later that month.

When Gerald Turner appeared for sentencing, the judge had clearly prepared his remarks carefully.

The judge reviewed the facts of the case.

A 9-year-old girl who had done nothing wrong except trust the wrong person.

a brutal assault, a callous disposal of her body in garbage bags, a family destroyed by grief.

And Turner himself, a man with a history of violence against women, a man who showed no remorse, a man who, according to psychological evaluation, lacked the internal controls that prevent most people from acting on violent impulses.

The judge sentenced Turner to the maximum allowed under Wisconsin law at that time, 38 years and 6 months in prison.

Let me break that down.

38 years for the murder and related charges, plus 6 months for the additional counts.

Turner would be eligible for parole after serving a portion of that sentence with good behavior.

But the judge made his intentions clear.

He hoped Turner would serve every single day.

You have shown no remorse for your actions, the judge told Turner.

You have demonstrated a pattern of violence that suggests you are a danger to society.

I can only hope that 38 years in prison will be sufficient to ensure you never harm another child.

Turner was remanded to custody.

He was transported to Wpun Correctional Institution, one of Wisconsin’s maximum security prisons.

For Maryanne Garing and her family, there was some small measure of closure.

Turner would be in prison for decades.

By the time he was eligible for parole, he would be an old man, no longer a threat.

Or so they thought.

Because what the Garing family didn’t know in 1975 was that Wisconsin’s prison system had a good time credit policy.

Inmates who behaved well and participated in programs could earn credits that reduced their sentences.

And Gerald Turner, despite being a child killer, proved to be a model prisoner.

Jump forward to October 1992.

Gerald Turner had been in prison for 17 years and 8 months.

During that time, he had followed all the rules.

He attended required classes.

He participated in counseling programs.

He worked his prison job assignment.

He caused no trouble.

By all accounts, he was a perfect prisoner.

Under Wisconsin’s good time credit system, Turner had earned enough credits to significantly reduce his sentence.

The Department of Corrections calculated that Turner had served sufficient time.

On October 13th, 1992, prison officials processed Gerald Turner’s release paperwork.

They gave him a set of civilian clothes, a small amount of money, and an address where he was required to report.

A halfway house in Milwaukee called the bridge.

The prison gates opened.

Gerald Turner walked out a free man.

He had served less than half of his original 38-year sentence.

Lisa’s family received notification only after Turner had already been released.

Maryanne Garing, now Maryanne Garing, because she’d remarried, was living in Florida.

She received a letter from the Wisconsin Department of Corrections informing her that her daughter’s killer was now in a halfway house in Milwaukee.

Maryanne was horrified.

17 years.

That was all her daughter’s life was worth.

17 years.

But Maryanne wasn’t the only one shocked by Turner’s release.

When news broke that Gerald Turner had been released to a halfway house in Milwaukee, the community reaction was explosive.

The halfway house, called the bridge, was located on Milwaukeee’s north side.

And here’s the part that made the story even more outrageous.

The bridge was directly next door to St.

Leo’s Catholic Elementary School.

That’s right.

Wisconsin had released a convicted child killer to a halfway house next to an elementary school.

You can’t make this stuff up.

Parents whose children attended St.

Leo’s were furious and terrified.

They had a child murderer living next door to their kid’s school.

What were authorities thinking? Milwaukee Mayor John Norquest held a news conference.

He demanded to know how many violent criminals the state was dumping in Milwaukee without notifying city officials.

He called for immediate changes to the release notification system.

Neighbors of the bridge organized protests.

They held signs demanding Turner be moved somewhere else.

They circulated petitions.

They contacted their state legislators.

Wisconsin’s major newspapers picked up the story.

The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel ran a series of articles about Turner’s release.

Television News covered the story extensively.

Turner’s conditions of parole explicitly prohibited contact with children.

He was forbidden from being in places where children congregate.

How could authorities possibly justify placing him next to an elementary school? Under pressure from protesters and local officials, the Department of Corrections agreed to move Turner.

He was relocated to an apartment on Milwaukeee’s east side, farther from schools.

But the controversy didn’t end there because one appeals court judge decided to dig deeper into Turner’s case.

Judge Ralph Adam Fine of the Wisconsin Court of Appeals read about Turner’s release and thought something didn’t sound right.

17 years and 8 months for a 38-year sentence.

Even with good time credits, that seemed too short.

Judge Fine decided to review the Department of Corrections calculations himself.

What he discovered was shocking.

The Department of Corrections had made a mathematical error in calculating Turner’s good time credits.

They had used a faulty formula.

Under the correct formula, Turner should not have been released in October 1992.

His earliest possible release date, even with maximum good time credits, should have been sometime in 1998.

The state had released Gerald Turner approximately 6 years too early.

Judge Fine issued a ruling.

Gerald Turner must be returned to prison to serve the remainder of his correctly calculated sentence.

On November 23rd, 1993, just over a year after his release, Turner was arrested at his Milwaukee apartment and transported back to Wapen Correctional Institution.

The public response was relief mixed with outrage.

Relief that Turner was back behind bars.

Outrage that the system had failed so spectacularly in the first place.

But the Turner case had sparked something bigger.

State legislators had noticed the public fury.

They had heard from constituents demanding that violent criminals not be released early, and they decided to do something about it.

In 1994, Wisconsin State Senator Brian RDE introduced new legislation.

The bill was specifically designed to address cases like Gerald Turners.

The proposed law would allow the state to civily commit sexually violent offenders to mental health facilities after their criminal sentences ended.

These commitments could potentially last indefinitely as long as experts determined the person remained dangerous.

It was controversial from the start.

Civil libertarians argued it amounted to double punishment.

You couldn’t send someone to prison, have them serve their sentence, and then lock them up again just because you think they might reaffend.

But supporters argued it wasn’t about punishment.

It was about public safety and treatment.

These weren’t additional criminal penalties.

These were civil commitments similar to involuntarily committing someone with severe mental illness who poses a danger to themselves or others.

The law proposed several key elements.

First, definition of a sexually violent person.

Someone who has been convicted of a sexually violent offense and suffers from a mental disorder that makes them likely to engage in future acts of sexual violence.

Second, the process.

Before releasing a prisoner who might qualify, the Department of Corrections would refer the case to the Department of Justice.

The DOJ would evaluate whether the person met the criteria.

If so, they would file a petition with the court.

Third, the standard of proof.

The state would have to prove beyond a reasonable doubt, not just preponderance of evidence, that the person was a sexually violent person.

This was a higher standard, offering more protection to the accused.

Fourth, the commitment.

If found to be a sexually violent person, the individual would be committed to the custody of the Department of Health Services for control, care, and treatment until such time as they were no longer dangerous.

Fifth, annual reviews.

Every person committed under this law would have their case reviewed annually to determine if they still met the criteria for commitment.

The law passed the Wisconsin state legislature in May 1994.

Governor Tommy Thompson signed it into law on May 26th, 1994.

The law was officially designated as Wisconsin chapter 980 of the state statutes, but everyone knew it by its unofficial name, Turner’s Law.

Gerald Turner had created the very law that would eventually be used against him.

Turner’s law faced immediate legal challenges.

Defense attorneys argued it violated the Constitution’s prohibition against double jeopardy.

You can’t be punished twice for the same crime.

The Wisconsin Supreme Court took up the case in State versus Carpenter in 1995.

The court ruled that chapter 980 did not violate double jeopardy protections because it created a civil commitment procedure, not additional criminal punishment.

The court emphasized that the law’s primary purpose was treatment and public protection, not punishment.

The ruling also noted that the law required proof of a mental disorder.

This wasn’t simply about locking up people who’d served their time.

It was about identifying individuals who due to mental illness remained dangerous and required treatment.

The US Supreme Court later validated this reasoning in Kansas versus HRIS in 1997, upholding a similar Kansas law.

Turner’s law survived.

It was constitutional.

Wisconsin could now civily commit sexually violent offenders after their prison sentences ended.

By 2014, approximately 500 individuals had been committed under chapter 980.

Roughly 2/3 remained confined at Sand Ridge Secure Treatment Center in Mustin, Wisconsin, a 500 bed facility built specifically for this population.

The cost was substantial, $44 per patient per day.

But supporters argued it was worth it to protect the public from dangerous predators.

Remember, Gerald Turner had been returned to prison in November 1993 after Judge Fine discovered the calculation error.

His new release date, correctly calculated, was sometime in 1998.

As that date approached, Lisa’s family lived in fear.

Would Turner be released again? Would he hurt another child? But now there was Turner’s law.

Surely the law specifically inspired by his case would be applied to him, right? In January 1998, Turner came before a jury for a 4-day trial.

The state was petitioning to have him committed as a sexually violent person under chapter 980.

Prosecutors brought in four women who testified that Turner had beaten and raped them before Lisa French’s murder.

They presented evidence of Turner’s psychological evaluations showing lack of empathy and conscience.

Even a psychiatrist testifying on Turner’s behalf acknowledged there was approximately a 20% chance Turner would commit another violent sexual crime within 7 years.

20%.

That means 1 in5 chance of another victim.

The jury deliberated and on January 29th, 1998, they reached their verdict.

Gerald Turner was not a sexually violent person under Wisconsin law.

The jury concluded that the state had failed to prove beyond a reasonable doubt that Turner suffered from a mental disorder, making him likely to commit future sexual violence.

How this happened remains controversial.

Some speculate the defense successfully argued that Turner’s age, 69 at the time, meant he was less likely to reaffend.

Others suggest the jury set the bar too high for what constituted a mental disorder.

Whatever the reason, the result was clear.

Turner would be released.

Gerald Turner was released on mandatory parole in February 1998.

He was sent to Foster House, a different halfway house in Madison, Wisconsin.

His parole conditions were strict.

Electronic monitoring, mandatory medication to reduce sex drive, no contact with children, no access to pornography, restrictions on where he could go.

But Turner was free again.

6 months later, in June 1998, Turner had an incident at Foster House.

He was working as a cook in the halfway house kitchen when his parole case worker arrived for a routine check.

Turner became agitated.

He grabbed a butcher knife.

He shouted at the case worker and waved the knife threateningly.

The case worker retreated and called police.

Turner was subdued without anyone being injured.

The state filed a motion to revoke Turner’s parole.

They argued this demonstrated he remained dangerous.

An administrative judge held a hearing.

A psychiatrist testified that Turner still posed a risk to public safety.

But the judge denied the motion to revoke parole.

He ruled that while Turner’s behavior was concerning, it didn’t rise to the level requiring return to prison.

Turner remained free.

Here’s where Turner’s story takes a truly bizarre turn.

In 1999, Turner was looking for employment.

His parole required that he work.

He needed money to support himself.

But finding a job as a convicted child killer is difficult.

Who wants to hire someone with that background? Turner applied to more than 100 companies and government agencies in Madison.

Every single one rejected him.

Now, Wisconsin was one of only 10 states in America that prohibited employment discrimination based on criminal record.

The law said employers couldn’t refuse to hire someone just because they had a criminal conviction unless the conviction was substantially related to the job in question.

For example, you could refuse to hire an embezzler as an accountant because the crime is substantially related to the job, but you probably couldn’t refuse to hire an embezzler as a janitor because the crime has nothing to do with janitorial work.

Turner filed a discrimination complaint against Waste Management of Madison.

They had refused to hire him for a position sorting recyclable materials.

Waste management argued the job wasn’t suitable for Turner for two reasons.

First, employees sorted materials that could be used as weapons.

Second, the facility offered tours for elementary school classes, meaning Turner would have potential access to children.

State equal rights officer Charles Felin reviewed the case.

He found probable cause to believe waste management had discriminated against Turner.

Felin ruled that sorting recyclables was not substantially related to Turner’s crime of child murder.

Faced with a formal hearing, Waste Management decided to settle.

They paid Turner an undisclosed sum and hired him.

The public was outraged.

Wisconsin newspapers ran editorials criticizing the law.

How could the state force a company to hire a child killer? On October 28th, 1999, the Wisconsin State Assembly voted 63 to 33 to repeal the anti-discrimination law.

Employers would now be allowed to refuse hiring based on criminal records.

Gerald Turner had changed Wisconsin law again.

The year 2003, Gerald Turner had been on parole for about 5 years.

He was still living in Foster House, the halfway house in Madison.

Parole conditions for sex offenders are strict, and for good reason.

Turner’s conditions included several specific prohibitions.

No access to pornography of any kind.

This included magazines, videos, or internet content.

No contact with children, direct or indirect.

No possession of weapons, mandatory participation in sex offender treatment programs, regular meetings with parole officers, random searches of his living space.

That last condition is what caught Turner.

In 2003, Turner’s parole officer conducted a routine search of his room at the halfway house.

What he found was disturbing.

Hundreds of hardcore pornographic images on Turner’s computer, downloaded, saved, organized into folders.

Remember, this wasn’t just a violation of parole.

For someone like Turner, with his history, access to pornography could be a precursor to escalating behavior.

The parole officer also discovered that Turner had attempted multiple times to rent movies about serial killers from local video stores.

One of the films was Switchback, a thriller about an FBI agent tracking a serial killer who had kidnapped his son.

Another film depicted graphic violence against a young girl.

Turner had also tried to unscramble the Playboy channel on the Halfway House television system.

But the most disturbing discovery wasn’t the pornography or the serial killer movies.

It was a letter.

A letter that Turner had written to Lisa Anne French.

The letter was undated, handwritten, and deeply disturbing.

Turner had never sent it anywhere.

Obviously, Lisa had been dead for 30 years.

This was something Turner had written for himself.

Here’s what the letter said.

I doubt that I could ever fully realize the terror you experienced at my hands.

I can still see you standing in the doorway with that felt hat beaming at having recognized me.

Then I see the delight in your eyes turned to fear as I close the door behind you.

Let that sink in.

Turner was remembering the moment he trapped Lisa.

The moment her smile turned to fear.

The moment she realized something terrible was about to happen.

The letter continued, “The rest of my life, I will have to live with what I did to you.

And then on that night, I became a monster.

I do swear to you on the forfeite of my life, I will never harm another child.” There’s a sick psychology at work here.

Turner wanted credit for remorse he didn’t actually feel.

He wanted to paint himself as someone who’d made a terrible mistake, who felt guilty, who had changed.

But if he’d actually changed, why was his computer full of hardcore pornography? Why was he trying to rent serial killer movies? Why was he attempting to access adult channels on cable TV? The letter was manipulation, nothing more, an attempt to craft a narrative of redemption that didn’t actually exist.

But the letter also included something else that caught investigators attention.

Turner complained about the attention his case had received.

If it had happened on some other day, like Valentine’s Day, nobody would have gave a damn.

This statement reveals Turner’s mindset.

He wasn’t sorry for killing Lisa.

He was sorry he’d been caught and punished.

He believed his real mistake was choosing Halloween, a day that made his crime more memorable and newsworthy.

In Turner’s mind, the problem wasn’t murdering a child.

The problem was that people wouldn’t forget about it.

Based on the pornography discovery, the serial killer movie rental attempts, and other parole violations, the state filed to revoke Turner’s parole and return him to prison.

This time there was no question Turner had blatantly violated multiple conditions of his release.

The evidence was overwhelming.

A judge sentenced Turner to an additional 15 years and 6 months in prison.

Do the math.

If Turner served the entire sentence, his release date would be February 1st, 2018.

Turner would be 69 years old.

For Lisa’s family, this brought some relief.

another 15 years.

Maybe finally Turner would serve enough time that he’d no longer be a threat.

Maryanne Garing, Lisa’s mother, had remarried and was now living in Stewart, Florida.

She followed Turner’s case from afar, grateful that he was back behind bars.

But as 2018 approached, that old fear returned.

In the years Turner spent in prison for his third sentence, reporters continued investigating his background.

The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel obtained Turner’s parole file through open records requests.

What they found painted a disturbing picture of Turner’s time on parole and his activities in the halfway house.

Beyond the pornography and the letter to Lisa, there were other concerning details.

Turner had pulled out three of his own teeth rather than wait for dental appointments.

The prison dentist would have eventually seen him, but Turner apparently couldn’t tolerate any delay.

He grabbed pliers and extracted his own teeth.

This kind of impulsive, extreme behavior suggested someone with severe psychological problems, someone who couldn’t tolerate frustration or delay.

Investigators also learned something that had been kept quiet during Turner’s original trial.

When police arrested Turner in 1974, they’d found stacks of child pornography in his home.

Yes, child pornography.

This wasn’t adult material.

These were images of children.

Remember, this was 1974.

Child pornography laws were much weaker then than they are now.

Prosecutors likely chose not to pursue those charges because they were focused on the murder case.

But it reveals something crucial.

Turner’s attraction to children wasn’t a one-time aberration.

It was a pattern.

Lisa wasn’t the only child he’d victimized.

She was just the one he’d killed.

How many other children had Turner molested or abused over the years? We’ll probably never know.

But given his history, it’s likely Lisa wasn’t his first victim, just his most tragic one.

As Turner’s February 2018 release date approached, Wisconsin media began covering the story again.

The Milwaukee Journal Sentinel published a series of articles about Turner’s upcoming release.

Television news stations ran features about the case.

Social media exploded with discussions about whether Turner should ever be freed.

Advocates for victim’s rights pointed out that Turner had now been convicted of parole violations twice.

First the knife incident in 1998, then the pornography violation in 2003.

This suggested he would always pose a risk, but legal experts noted that Turner had served his sentences.

Under American law, you can’t keep someone in prison indefinitely just because you think they might reaffend.

Once the sentence is complete, the person must be released unless there’s a legal mechanism to continue confinement.

And that’s where Turner’s law came back into play.

Chapter 980, the statute created because of Turner’s case, allowed Wisconsin to civily commit sexually violent persons after their criminal sentences ended.

Turner had avoided this in 1998 when a jury found he didn’t meet the criteria.

But that was 20 years ago.

Turner was now 76 years old.

He’d violated parole twice.

He’d been caught with pornography.

He’d written disturbing letters.

Would try again.

Maryanne Garing, Lisa’s mother, was now in her 70s.

She’d spent 45 years living with the grief of losing her daughter.

Every Halloween, the memories came flooding back.

the last time she’d seen Lisa alive.

The frantic search, the devastating discovery, the trial, the years of fighting to keep Turner locked up.

And now, once again, she faced the possibility of Turner being released.

Maryanne decided to fight back.

In late 2017, she launched an online petition on change.org.

The petition was titled Keep the Halloween Killer Behind Bars.

The text of the petition explained Lisa’s story.

It detailed Turner’s history of violence.

It noted his multiple parole violations, and it begged Wisconsin authorities to use chapter 980 to keep Turner confined.

Halloween marked the 44th anniversary of Lisa’s death, Maryanne wrote.

And to this day, I feel in my heart he will commit another violent sex crime if he is released.

she continued.

He should not be released.

When Lisa can come back and have her freedom, so can he.

The petition went viral.

Within weeks, it had gathered over 35,000 signatures.

More than 9,000 of those signatures came from Wisconsin residents.

People who’d never heard of Lisa French before learned her story through the petition.

Young people who weren’t even born in 1973 signed and shared the petition.

The media picked up on the petition’s success.

Wisconsin television stations interviewed Maryanne.

She spoke about her daughter, about the decades of pain, about her determination that Turner never hurt another child.

He’s a monster, Maryanne said in one interview.

He killed my baby and he’s shown again and again that he’s still dangerous.

How many times does he have to violate parole before we admit he’ll never change? The petition created enormous pressure on Wisconsin authorities.

35,000 people were watching.

What would the state do? On January 26th, 2018, just days before Turner’s scheduled release, Wisconsin Attorney General Brad Shiml filed a petition under Chapter 980.

The petition asked the court to commit Gerald Turner as a sexually violent person to Sand Ridge Secure Treatment Center in Mustin, Wisconsin.

This was the moment many people had been waiting for.

Finally, Turner’s law would be applied to Turner himself.

The irony wasn’t lost on anyone.

Turner’s case had created this law.

And now, two decades later, that law would be used to keep him confined.

Turner was immediately transferred from prison to Sand Ridge Secure Treatment Center to await the legal proceedings.

Sand Ridge is not a prison.

It’s officially a mental health facility, though it’s every bit as secure as a maximum security prison.

The facility was built specifically to house people committed under Chapter 980.

Residents, they’re not called inmates, live in individual rooms.

They receive treatment from psychologists and psychiatrists.

They participate in therapy programs designed to address the mental disorders that make them dangerous.

But make no mistake, they’re locked up.

They can’t leave.

Security is tight.

Many residents remain at Sand Ridge for decades, some for life.

Turner arrived at Sand Ridge in February 2018.

He was 76 years old.

He’d served his criminal sentence, but his confinement was far from over.

Under Wisconsin law, a chapter 980 proceeding follows a specific process.

First, the attorney general files a petition alleging the person is a sexually violent person.

Second, a judge reviews the petition and decides whether there’s probable cause to believe the allegation.

Third, if there’s probable cause, the person is held while both sides prepare for trial.

Fourth, expert witnesses, usually psychologists or psychiatrists, evaluate the person to determine if they meet the legal criteria.

Fifth, a trial is held where a jury decides whether the state has proven beyond a reasonable doubt that the person is a sexually violent person.

Sixth, if the jury finds the person is a sexually violent person, they’re committed to the Department of Health Services for treatment.

Seventh, the person’s case is reviewed annually to determine if they still meet the criteria for commitment.

Turner’s case entered this process in February 2018, but there was immediate controversy.

Turner’s defense attorneys argued that the petition was filed too late.

They claimed the state had missed critical deadlines in the referral process.

The case bounced between judges and jurisdictions.

In April 2018, Judge Robert Wartz moved the proceedings from Fond Duac County to Dne County.

In 2019, a Wisconsin appellet court ruled the case should be back in Fondulac County where Turner’s original crime occurred.

Then the COVID 19 pandemic hit in 2020, postponing hearings and delaying everything.

On February 23rd, 2022, Judge Paul Chisnney held a probable cause hearing.

After reviewing the evidence, he ruled there was sufficient probable cause to continue the commitment proceedings.

Turner’s attorneys appealed.

On March 3rd, 2023, Judge Anthony Neils took over the case.

He denied Turner’s motion to dismiss.

Turner’s attorneys continued fighting.

They argued that three expert evaluations had found Turner didn’t have a qualifying mental illness.

They pointed out that even a state department of corrections doctor had concluded Turner didn’t meet commitment criteria.

The state countered that Turner’s history spoke for itself.

multiple parole violations, ongoing obsession with violent and sexual content, a psychological profile showing lack of empathy, and inability to control impulses.

The legal battle dragged on.

In December 2024, Turner’s attorneys filed a motion for summary judgement.

Essentially, they asked the judge to rule in Turner’s favor without a trial because they argued the state’s evidence was insufficient as a matter of law.

On December 9th, 2024, Judge Neils issued a remarkable ruling.

He denied the motion, but his reasoning was groundbreaking.

Judge Neils ruled that summary judgement motions are unworkable in 980 actions.

This was a firstofits-kind decision in Wisconsin.

The judge essentially said that chapter 980 cases are too complex and factintensive to be decided without a full trial.

Expert testimony from psychologists and psychiatrists needs to be heard and evaluated by a jury.

You can’t shortcut that process.

The ruling meant Turner’s case would definitely go to trial.

There would be a jury.

The state would present its evidence.

Turner’s defense would present theirs and a jury would decide.

But when? On March 12th, 2025, Gerald Turner appeared in Fawn Duac County Court again.

Now 76 years old, Turner sat at the defense table flanked by his attorneys Robert Peterson and Evan Whites.

The defense requested reconsideration of the probable cause ruling from 2022.

They argued again that the expert evaluations didn’t support commitment.

The prosecution represented by Assistant Attorney General Deborah Ayala argued that Turner’s history demonstrated ongoing danger to the community.

Judge Nails took the matter under advisement.

Then in July 2025, he issued his ruling.

The request for a new probable cause hearing was denied.

The case would proceed toward trial.

As of December 2025, that trial has not yet been scheduled.

Turner remains at Sand Ridge Secure Treatment Center.

He’s been there for more than 7 years now, well past his original prison release date.

His attorneys have indicated they may appeal all the way to the Wisconsin Supreme Court if necessary.

Turner’s case has been evaluated by multiple mental health experts over the years.

Their findings are interesting and in some cases contradictory.

Some experts have concluded that Turner doesn’t have a diagnosible mental disorder under the criteria specified in chapter 980.

They argue that being a psychopath or sociopath isn’t sufficient.

The law requires a specific type of mental disorder that affects the person’s valitional control, their ability to choose not to offend.

These experts point out that Turner hasn’t actually committed a new sexual offense since 1973.

Yes, he violated parole.

Yes, he had pornography.

But he hasn’t actually physically assaulted anyone in over 50 years.

Other experts strongly disagree.

They argue that Turner’s pattern of behavior, his lack of empathy, his obsession with violent and sexual content, and his demonstrated inability to follow rules, even when his freedom depends on it all, indicates someone who remains dangerous.

These experts note that many sex offenders, especially as they age, have lower recidivism rates.

But the nature of Turner’s original crime was so extreme and his subsequent behavior so concerning that they believe he still poses a significant risk.

The disagreement among experts is why this case will ultimately need a jury trial to resolve.

Turner’s case raises fundamental questions about justice, public safety, and civil liberties.

On one hand, he served his criminal sentence.

Under the American legal system, once you’ve served your time, you’re supposed to be released.

Indefinite detention after serving a criminal sentence feels like double punishment.

On the other hand, Turner has proven repeatedly that he can’t be trusted in society.

two parole violations, a confession to child murder, a history of violence against women, expert evaluations describing him as lacking conscience control.

Should someone like that ever be released? Chapter 9.

180 tries to balance these concerns by requiring proof of a mental disorder and ongoing danger.

It’s not just about keeping someone locked up because we don’t like them.

It’s supposed to be about treating people who due to mental illness can’t safely live in the community.

But critics argue the law is applied too broadly.

They say it’s become a way to warehouse people indefinitely, with treatment being more theoretical than actual.

Supporters counter that recidivism rates for sex offenders are high enough that extra precautions are justified.

There’s no easy answer.

What’s clear is that Gerald Turner’s case continues to shape these debates more than 50 years after he killed Lisa French.

Before October 31st, 1973, Halloween in Fonduak was like Halloween everywhere else in America.

Children got dressed in costumes, walked door to door saying trickor treat, and collected bags full of candy.

Parents were cautious.

Sure.

The early 1970s had seen a moral panic about tampered candy, even though documented cases were extremely rare and usually turned out to be hoaxes.

But the fear was mostly about poisoned treats or hidden razors, not about trusted neighbors assaulting children.

Lisa’s murder shattered that innocent worldview.

Suddenly, Fonduak parents realized the biggest threat wasn’t a stranger driving through the neighborhood.

It was the familiar face at the door, the neighbor who seemed nice, the person you trusted.

And if you couldn’t trust your neighbors, how could you send your children trick-or-treating at all? The 1974 Halloween, just one year after Lisa’s murder, looked very different in Fondul.

Many families didn’t participate at all.

They kept their children home, turned off their porch lights, and tried to ignore the holiday entirely.

Other families went trick-or-treating, but only during daylight hours and only with parents directly supervising every moment.

The community Halloween party, Pumpkin Place, became much more popular.

Parents preferred the controlled environment over traditional trick-or-treating.

Over the next few years, Fonduak formalized these changes.

The city officially moved trick-or-treating to daylight hours on the weekend before Halloween, never on Halloween night itself.

The typical window became 3:30 to 5:30 in the afternoon on the Saturday or Sunday before October 31st.

This practice continues to this day.

In 2025, more than 50 years after Lisa’s murder, Fonduak still doesn’t allow trick-or-treating on Halloween night.

But the changes didn’t stop in Fondu Lac.

Lisa’s murder was national news in 1973.

Communities across Wisconsin heard the story and reacted with fear.

If it happened in Fonduak, it could happen anywhere.

Throughout the 1970s and 80s, Wisconsin communities began adopting similar policies to fondulac.

Trick-or-treating moved to daylight hours.

Communities organized supervised events as alternatives to door-to-door candy collection.

Parents were encouraged, then practically required, to accompany children.

Some towns adopted trunk or treat events where parents parked in a school or church parking lot, decorated their car trunks, and handed out candy in a controlled, supervised environment.

Business districts organized daytime trick-or-treating events where children could visit shops and offices instead of homes.

Milwaukee, Wisconsin’s largest city, maintained the most dramatic response.

For decades, Milwaukee officially scheduled trickor-treating for a specific afternoon, usually the Saturday before Halloween, and discouraged participation on Halloween night itself.

Only recently in the 2020s has Milwaukee begun allowing trick-or-treating on actual Halloween night.

And even then, only when October 31st falls on a Friday or Saturday, limiting hours to 5:30 to 7:30 in the evening.

The changes weren’t just about timing.

Many Wisconsin communities created registries of safe houses where children could go if they felt threatened while trick-or-treating.

These were marked with special signs or colored lights and windows.

Police departments increased patrols on Halloween, not just to watch for traffic safety, but to watch for suspicious adults.

Some communities required adults walking around on Halloween to be accompanied by children.

If you were an adult out alone on Halloween night, police might stop and question you.

Wisconsin’s response to Lisa’s murder influenced Halloween practices nationwide.

In the 1980s and 90s, communities across America began restricting Halloween activities.

Mall trick-or-treating became popular as a safe alternative to neighborhood trick-or-treating.

School and church Halloween parties proliferated.

Neighborhoods organized block parties where all the kids stayed together on one street with parents providing entertainment and candy.

The traditional image of children roaming neighborhoods after dark, going doortodoor with minimal supervision largely disappeared.

Is this all directly because of Lisa French’s case? No, not entirely.

Other factors contributed to Halloween’s transformation.

increasing traffic danger, concerns about child abduction more generally, changing family structures with more two-income households, making supervision difficult, and simple cultural shifts.

But Lisa’s case became the emblematic story that parents referenced when explaining why Halloween had changed.

It was the most famous example of a child being victimized while trick-or-treating.

And that’s a sad legacy.

Lisa Anne French is remembered not just as a victim herself but as the symbol of lost innocence for an entire holiday.

Captain Melvin Heler, the fondulac detective who led the investigation into Lisa’s murder, spent the rest of his career speaking about child safety.

Heler retired from the police department, but continued doing interviews with media, speaking to parent groups, and advocating for child protection measures.

until his death sometime after 2013.

Heler repeatedly issued the same warning.

What I like the parents to know is the possibility of this thing happening again is very realistic today because those people aren’t locked up forever today.

Heler understood something that many people don’t want to accept.

Predators exist in every community.

They look normal.

They act friendly.

They gain trust and they wait for opportunities.

Heler wasn’t trying to terrify parents.

He was trying to make them vigilant without being paranoid.

There’s a balance between letting children have normal childhoods and protecting them from genuine dangers.

In interview after interview, Heler emphasized that most children who are victimized know their attacker.

It’s not the stranger in the van.

It’s the coach, the teacher, the neighbor, the family friend, the relative.

Lisa knew Gerald Turner.

She trusted him.

That’s why she went into his house without hesitation.

Heler wanted parents to understand that trust, while important, should never be absolute.

Children needed to be taught that even people they know, can sometimes have bad intentions.

Let’s return to Wisconsin chapter 980, the law created in response to Turner’s case.

As of 2014, the last year solid statistics are available.

Approximately 500 individuals had been committed under this law.

That’s 500 people who completed their criminal sentences, but were deemed too dangerous to release without treatment.

About 2/3 of these people, roughly 330, remained confined at Sand Ridge Secure Treatment Center.

The facility itself is remarkable.

Built specifically for Chapter 980 commitments, Sand Ridge is located in Mustin, Wisconsin, about an hour northwest of Madison.

It’s a 500 bed secure treatment facility that operates under the Department of Health Services, not the Department of Corrections.

That distinction is important legally because it reinforces that these are civil commitments for treatment, not criminal punishments.

The cost is substantial, $44 per resident per day.

That’s about $147,000 per person per year.

Multiply that by 330 residents and Wisconsin taxpayers are spending approximately $48 million annually just on Sand Ridge.

Is it worth it? That depends on your perspective.

Supporters argue that if even one child is saved from assault because a predator was kept confined, it’s worth the cost.

They point out that treating sexual violence is expensive, whether you do it proactively through confinement and treatment or reactively through victimization and trauma services.

Critics argue the money would be better spent on prevention programs, better investigation of initial crimes, and ensuring longer criminal sentences in the first place.

They contend that chapter 980 has become a way to warehouse people indefinitely with minimal actual treatment.

The recidivism data is complex.

Studies show that sex offenders who complete treatment programs are less likely to reaffend than those who don’t.

But studies also show that some offenders will reaffend no matter what treatment they receive.

and determining who’s in which category is extremely difficult.

Turner’s law survived its initial constitutional challenges, as we discussed in part two, but legal experts continue debating whether it crosses ethical and legal lines.

The core concern is indefinite detention.

When someone is committed under Chapter 980, there’s no fixed end point.

The commitment continues until experts determine the person is no longer dangerous.

But what if that never happens? What if the person remains confined for 20 years, 30 years, 40 years until they die? That looks a lot like a life sentence, but it’s being imposed through a civil procedure that doesn’t have all the criminal justice protections, like right to trial by jury for the underlying crime.

Wait, they do have jury trials for commitment, but without the criminal protections during the initial sentencing.

Critics point out that someone could be convicted of a crime with a 10-year sentence, serve their 10 years, and then be civily committed for another 30 years.

They served one sentence for a crime, but ended up confined for 40 years total.

Defenders respond that the person isn’t being punished for the original crime twice.

The criminal sentence punished the crime.

The civil commitment addresses the ongoing danger the person poses due to mental disorder.

The Supreme Court blessed this reasoning in Kansas versus Hrix.

But individual justices have expressed concerns about how these laws are applied in practice.

Some states have released very few people from civil commitment once they’re confined.

That suggests the treatment aspect is more theoretical than real.

Wisconsin has released some people from Sand Ridge after treatment, but it’s a small percentage beyond the legal and policy debates.

There’s a human dimension to Turner’s law that deserves consideration.

Some people confined under Chapter 980 are truly dangerous and probably should never be released.

They’ve committed horrific crimes, shown no remorse, and demonstrated through their behavior that they would reaffend given the opportunity.

Others are more ambiguous cases.

Maybe they committed a serious crime decades ago.

Maybe they’ve aged to the point where their sexual drive has diminished.

Maybe they’ve genuinely changed through treatment.

Determining who’s who is incredibly difficult.

And there’s always the possibility of error.

What if someone is committed who doesn’t actually meet the criteria? What if the expert evaluations are wrong? What if a jury makes a mistake? That person could be confined for years, decades, or life despite not actually being dangerous.

The annual review process is supposed to catch these cases.

Every person committed under chapter 980 has their case reviewed at least once a year.

If their condition has improved, they should be released.

But in practice, many people are recommended for continued commitment year after year with minimal change in their treatment or status.

Is that because they truly remain dangerous or because the system is risk averse, preferring to keep someone confined rather than risk releasing them? There’s no easy answer.

Let’s bring the story back to the people who matter most.

Lisa’s family.

Maryanne Garing, Lisa’s mother, is now in her late 70s or early 80s.

She’s lived with the grief of losing her daughter for more than 50 years.

Think about that.

More than 50 years.

Most of Maryanne’s life has been spent as the mother of a murdered child.

She remarried and had other children.

Lisa’s half siblings grew up knowing they had a sister they would never meet.

A sister whose life was stolen before they were born.

Susan Depa, one of Lisa’s younger halfsisters, has been active in supporting her mother’s efforts to keep Turner confined.

Susan never met Lisa.

She was born after the murder, but she’s grown up with Lisa’s memory and has taken up the family’s cause.

In interviews over the years, Maryanne has spoken about the ongoing pain.

People think after enough time, you get over it.

You don’t.

You just learned to live with a hole in your heart that never heals.

Every Halloween, I think about that night.

I see Lisa walking out the door in her hobo costume, so excited about getting candy.

I didn’t know it was the last time I’d ever see her.

The worst part is knowing she trusted him.

She went into that house because she thought he was safe.

I failed to protect her from a monster who looked like a friend.

That last quote is particularly haunting.

Maryanne has spent decades blaming herself, even though Lisa’s death wasn’t her fault.

She did nothing wrong.

She had no reason to suspect Gerald Turner was dangerous.

But parents of murdered children often blamed themselves.

What if I’d said no to trick-or-treating? What if I’d made her take a friend? What if I’d walked with her? Those whatifs torture parents for the rest of their lives.

Lisa Anne French was buried on November 6th, 1973 at Emanuel Trinity Lutheran Church in Fondu Lock.

Thousands of people attended her funeral.

Many were strangers who’d participated in the search and felt connected to the case.

The line of mourners stretched around the block.

Lisa was laid to rest in a local cemetery.

Her gravestone bears her name, her birth, and death dates, and a simple phrase, forever in our hearts.

For many years, people left flowers and small gifts at Lisa’s grave, especially around Halloween.

Even people who never knew her felt compelled to honor her memory.

The tributes have continued over the decades.

On the 45th anniversary of her death in 2018, community members held a candlelight vigil at Lisa’s grave.

They spoke about how her case had changed Fonduak and renewed their commitment to child safety.

Lisa’s elementary school, Chegwin Elementary, has honored her memory in various ways over the years.

Teachers tell Lisa’s story to new generations of students, not to frighten them, but to help them understand the importance of being aware of their surroundings and speaking up if something feels wrong.

The Girl Scout troop Lisa belonged to has dedicated several service projects to her memory, focusing on child safety education.

More than 50 years later, some questions about Lisa’s case remain unanswered.

How many other victims did Gerald Turner have? Turner was charged with statutory rape of a 15-year-old babysitter in 1972, a year before Lisa’s murder.

That case didn’t result in prosecution, but the accusation was credible.

When Turner was arrested for Lisa’s murder, police found stacks of child pornography in his home.

Turner had a history of violence and sexual assault against adult women documented by multiple ex-wives and girlfriends.

All of this suggests Turner had a long pattern of victimizing others.

Lisa was the victim we know about because she died.

But how many others were there? Some investigators believe Turner molested other children in Fondue Lock during the years he lived there.

But without victims coming forward and with the passage of so much time, those cases will likely never be known.

Another question, should Turner have been identified as dangerous earlier? Looking back with the benefit of hindsight, there were warning signs, the statutory rape charge, the domestic violence, the pornography possession.

But in 1973, the systems for tracking and monitoring people with these patterns didn’t really exist.

There were no sex offender registries.

Domestic violence was rarely prosecuted seriously.

Child pornography laws were weak.

It’s frustrating to think that with modern systems, Turner might have been flagged as high risk before he killed Lisa.

But that’s hindsight bias.

We can’t judge the 1970s by 2025 standards.

Turner’s case raises questions that society is still grappling with.

How do we balance protecting children with preserving civil liberties? How do we identify dangerous individuals before they commit heinous crimes? What do we do with offenders who’ve served their criminal sentences but appear to remain dangerous? Is indefinite civil commitment ethical and constitutional? How do we provide effective treatment for people with paraphilas and poor impulse control? What’s the right balance between punishment and rehabilitation? These aren’t easy questions, and reasonable people disagree about the answers.

What’s clear is that Lisa Anne French’s case continues to shape these debates more than 50 years after her death.

It’s worth noting some statistics about child victimization to put Lisa’s case in context.

According to the Department of Justice, approximately 90% of children who are sexually abused know their abuser.

Only 10% are victimized by complete strangers.

Family members, including parents, stepparents, and relatives, account for about 34% of offenders.

Other known individuals, including neighbors, family, friends, teachers, coaches, and clergy, account for about 56% of offenders.

Strangers account for only about 7% with the remaining 3% being perpetrators whose relationship to the victim is unknown.

These statistics validate Captain Heler’s warning.

The biggest threat to children isn’t the stranger, it’s the familiar face.

This makes prevention incredibly difficult.

We can teach children not to talk to strangers, but how do we teach them to be wary of Uncle Bob or Neighbor Ted? The answer involves teaching children about bodily autonomy and consent, creating environments where children feel comfortable reporting uncomfortable situations and believing children when they do report abuse.

It also involves background checks for people who work with children and better systems for identifying patterns of concerning behavior.

But even with all these measures, some victimization will still occur.

We can’t create a perfectly safe world, much as we’d like to.

There’s also a cost to overcorrection.

In the wake of cases like Lisa French, some communities have gone too far in restricting children’s freedom and independence.

Children today have far less independence than children in the 1970s.

They’re driven everywhere.

They’re supervised constantly.

They rarely play outside unsupervised or walk to friends houses alone.

Some of this is good.

Better supervision prevents victimization, but some of it may be counterproductive.

Children who never learn to navigate the world independently may struggle as adults.

They may have difficulty assessing risk, making decisions, and handling unexpected situations.

There’s also the question of whether extreme supervision is even effective.

Predators are patient.

They groom victims over time.

They create opportunities when supervision lapses.

A child who’s never allowed any independence may be more vulnerable when they inevitably do encounter a situation without parental oversight.

Finding the right balance between protection and independence is difficult and every family makes different choices.

As this documentary is being produced in December 2025, Gerald Turner remains confined at Sand Ridge Secure Treatment Center in Mustin, Wisconsin.

He’s been there since February 1st, 2018.

That’s 7 years and 11 months as of December 2025.

Remember, his prison sentence ended on February 1st, 2018.

Everything since then has been civil commitment under Chapter 980, while legal proceedings continue.

Here’s the current timeline of his commitment case.

February 26th, 2018.

Turner transferred to Sand Ridge following Attorney General Brad Shy’s petition.

April 2018, Judge Robert Wartz moved proceedings from Fondu Lac County to Dne County, citing concerns about finding an impartial jury in Fondu Lac where Lisa’s case remained wellnown.

2019 Wisconsin Court of Appeals reversed that decision, sending the case back to Fondu Lac County.

2020 COVID 19 pandemic delays proceedings significantly.

February 23rd, 2022.

Judge Paul Tisney finds probable cause to continue commitment proceedings after a lengthy hearing.

March 3rd, 2023.

Judge Anthony Neils, who inherited the case, denies Turner’s motion to dismiss.

December 9th, 2024.

Judge Neils issues his groundbreaking ruling that summary judgement is unworkable in chapter 980 cases, meaning the case must go to trial.

March 12th, 2025, Turner appears in court.

Defense requests reconsideration of probable cause ruling.

July 2025, Judge Neils denies request for new probable cause hearing.

December 2025.

No trial date has been set.

The case remains in pre-trial status.

So Turner has been in legal limbo for almost 8 years.

He’s not been convicted of any new crime.

He hasn’t been found to be a sexually violent person by a jury, but he remains confined while the legal process crawls forward.

Turner’s current attorneys, Robert Peterson and Evan Whites, have been fighting his commitment for years.

Their core argument is straightforward.

Gerald Turner does not meet the legal criteria for commitment under chapter 980.

Here’s what the law requires.

First, a person must have been convicted of a sexually violent offense.

Turner meets this criteria.

He was convicted of murdering Lisa French after sexually assaulting her.

Second, the person must suffer from a mental disorder.

This is where Turner’s defense focuses.

They point to three separate expert evaluations commissioned by the state.

All three experts concluded that Turner does not have a diagnosible mental disorder that meets the chapter 980 criteria.

They also note that even a doctor from the Wisconsin Department of Corrections evaluated Turner and concluded he doesn’t meet commitment criteria.

The defense argues, “How can you commit someone as a sexually violent person when your own experts say he doesn’t have the required mental disorder?” Third, the mental disorder must make the person likely to engage in future acts of sexual violence.

Even if Turner had a qualifying mental disorder, which the defense disputes, they argue there’s no evidence he’s likely to reaffend.

Turner is now 76 years old.

He hasn’t actually committed a new sexual offense since 1973, more than 50 years ago.

Yes, he violated parole twice, but neither violation involved touching another person.

The defense points out that recidivism rates for sex offenders drop dramatically as they age, particularly after age 65.

They argue that keeping a 76-year-old man confined indefinitely based on something he did when he was 24 isn’t justice, it’s vengeance.

Peterson has publicly stated that if necessary, he’ll appeal Turner’s case all the way to the Wisconsin Supreme Court and possibly even to the US Supreme Court.

Assistant Attorney General Deborah Ayala, representing the state, sees things very differently.

The prosecution argues that Turner’s pattern of behavior demonstrates he remains dangerous.

First, Turner has violated parole twice.

The 1998 knife incident and the 2003 pornography violation show he can’t follow rules even when his freedom depends on it.

Second, Turner’s psychological profile hasn’t changed.

The same lack of empathy, the same inability to control impulses, the same view of women and children as objects.

All of that remains.

Third, Turner’s behavior while on parole was deeply concerning.

The letter to Lisa French, the attempts to rent serial killer movies, the hardcore pornography, the self- extraction of teeth when he couldn’t tolerate delay.

All of these behaviors suggest someone who remains psychologically unstable and potentially dangerous.

Fourth, Turner’s age doesn’t eliminate risk.

While it’s true that recidivism rates drop with age, they don’t drop to zero.

and Turner’s original crime was so extreme, so brutal that even a small risk is unacceptable.

The prosecution also challenges the defense’s claim about expert evaluations.

They argue that some experts did find evidence of mental disorders and that evaluating someone like Turner is inherently difficult because he’s manipulative and untruthful.

They point out that Turner fooled parole officials twice.

He convinced people he was low risk, then violated parole as soon as he had the opportunity.

Finally, the prosecution emphasizes community protection.

The whole point of chapter 980 is to prevent future victimization.

If there’s reasonable doubt about whether Turner is safe, the law says he should remain confined.

One reason Turner’s case has dragged on so long is that mental health experts genuinely disagree about his status.

Some experts have evaluated Turner and concluded he has antisocial personality disorder, formerly called psychopathy or sociopathy.

This is a recognized mental disorder characterized by lack of empathy, disregard for social norms and inability to form genuine emotional connections.

People with antisocial personality disorder can be charming and manipulative.

They understand intellectually that certain behaviors are wrong, but they lack the emotional response that would prevent most people from committing those acts.

However, other experts argue that antisocial personality disorder by itself doesn’t meet the chapter 980 criteria.

The law requires a mental disorder that specifically affects the person’s valitional control over sexual behavior.

In other words, the disorder must make it difficult or impossible for the person to refrain from committing sexual offenses.

Just being a sociopath isn’t enough.

Lots of people with antisocial personality disorder don’t commit sex crimes.

They might be unethical business people or habitual liars or manipulative in relationships, but they don’t sexually assault others.

So the question becomes, does Turner have a mental disorder specifically related to sexual violence or does he simply have a general personality disorder plus a choice to commit sexual violence? That distinction matters legally, but it’s incredibly difficult to determine in practice.

Some experts who’ve evaluated Turner say his sexual assault of Lisa French was opportunistic, not compulsive.

He saw an opportunity and chose to act on it.

That suggests valitional control, which means he doesn’t meet commitment criteria.

Other experts say the brutality of the assault combined with his history of sexual violence against adult women and his possession of child pornography suggests a paraphilia, a sexual attraction to children that constitutes a qualifying mental disorder.

The disagreement is genuine and not easily resolved.

That’s why Judge Neil’s ruled that summary judgment is unworkable.

A jury needs to hear all the expert testimony, evaluate the credibility of each expert, and make a determination.

But that trial keeps getting delayed.

You might wonder why has this case taken almost 8 years without reaching trial.

There are several reasons.

First, COVID 19.

The pandemic shut down courts for months in 2020 and 2021.

Even after courts reopened, backlogs were enormous.

Cases that would normally go to trial within a year took 2 or 3 years.

Second, jurisdictional battles.

The case bounced between Fonduac County and Dayne County with each move requiring new judges to familiarize themselves with complex legal issues.

Third, motions practice.

Turner’s defense attorneys have filed numerous pre-trial motions.

Motions to dismiss, motions challenging probable cause, motions for summary judgement, motions to suppress evidence, motions to exclude expert testimony.

Each motion requires briefing, oral argument, and a ruling.

This takes time.

Fourth, expert evaluation delays.

Multiple experts need to evaluate Turner, write reports, and be available to testify.

Fifth, scheduling conflicts with multiple attorneys, experts, judges, and witnesses involved.

Finding dates when everyone is available is challenging.

Sixth, the complexity of the legal issues.

Chapter 9, 180 cases involve novel constitutional questions that judges need to carefully consider.

Rushed decisions could lead to reversible errors on appeal.

All of these factors have combined to create a nearly 8-year delay.

Meanwhile, Gerald Turner sits at Sand Ridge, confined but not convicted, waiting for a trial that may never come.

What’s Turner’s daily life like at Sand Ridge Secure Treatment Center? Sand Ridge is not a prison, though it looks and functions similarly.

It’s officially a psychiatric treatment facility, but security is maximum level.

Residents live in individual rooms, not cells.

The rooms have beds, desks, and some personal belongings.

But the doors lock from the outside.

Residents attend mandatory treatment programs, group therapy, individual counseling, educational classes about managing deviant sexual interests, and cognitive behavioral therapy.

They eat meals in a common dining area.

They have recreation time in a secured outdoor yard.

They can watch television in common areas, though content is monitored.

Family visits are allowed under supervision.

Mail is screened.

Phone calls are monitored.

It’s meant to be treatment focused rather than punishment focused.

But for someone confined there indefinitely, the distinction probably doesn’t mean much.

Turner has reportedly been compliant with Sand Ridge rules.

He attends required programs.

He doesn’t cause discipline problems.

His attorneys argue this demonstrates he’s no longer dangerous.

The prosecution argues it just means he’s learned to manipulate the system.

Even though Turner hasn’t had his initial commitment trial yet, his status is reviewed periodically under Sand Ridge protocols.

Every year, a treatment team evaluates his progress.

They assess whether he’s engaging with treatment, whether his risk level has changed, and whether he’s appropriate for any step down in security.

So far, these reviews have consistently concluded that Turner should remain at his current security level.

Part of the challenge is that Turner maintains his innocence regarding the mental disorder.

He admits to killing Lisa French.

His confession to that is part of the public record.

But he denies having a mental disorder that makes him likely to reaffend.

This creates a treatment problem.

How do you treat someone who denies they have the condition you’re treating? It’s similar to the challenge of treating substance abusers who deny they have addiction problems.

You can’t effectively treat someone who won’t acknowledge the issue.

Turner participates in programs because he’s required to, but therapists question whether he’s truly internalizing the material or just going through the motions.

Turner is one of approximately 300 people currently confined at Sand Ridge under chapter 980.

Each has their own story.

Some committed truly horrific crimes.

Others had relatively less serious offenses, but were deemed dangerous based on psychological evaluations.

The length of confinement varies wildly.

Some people have been at Sand Ridge for only a few years.

Others have been there for decades since the law was first enacted in 1994.

A small number of people have been released from Sand Ridge after treatment teams determined they no longer met commitment criteria.

These releases involve extensive supervision, GPS monitoring, mandatory medication, and regular check-ins with authorities.

Some of these releases have been successful.

The person has reintegrated into society without reaffending.

Others have failed.

Some released individuals have committed new offenses, sometimes just technical violations of supervision rules, sometimes actual new crimes.

Each failure generates publicity and political pressure to be more restrictive about who gets released.

This creates a ratchet effect.

Easy to commit people, very difficult to release them.

Wisconsin taxpayers spend roughly $48 million per year on Sand Ridge operations.

Is this money well spent? From a pure public safety perspective, if Sand Ridge prevents even a dozen new victims per year, most people would say yes, it’s worth it.

Victims of sexual violence suffer lifelong trauma.

The economic costs of victimization include medical care, mental health treatment, lost productivity, criminal justice system expenses, and more.

Studies estimate each instance of child sexual abuse costs society approximately 200,000 to over $1 million.

If Sand Ridge prevents just 50 new victims per year, the economic benefit exceeds the cost, not even counting the immeasurable human suffering prevented.

But critics argue the money could be spent more effectively on prevention, early intervention, and better initial prosecution rather than back-end warehousing.

They also point out that many Sand Ridge residents are elderly and statistically unlikely to reaffend.

The facility confines 80-year-old men who pose minimal risk while newer, more dangerous offenders might not be committed because the system is overloaded.

It’s a valid criticism.

Resources are finite.

How do we allocate them most effectively? There’s no consensus answer.

Maryanne Garering is now in her early 80s.

She spent more than half a century as Lisa’s mother and Lisa’s advocate.

In recent interviews, Maryanne has expressed frustration with how long Turner’s case has dragged on.

I’m an old woman now.

I’ve spent 52 years waiting for justice, and it’s still not resolved.

Every year, I think this will finally be the year they keep him locked up permanently.

And every year there’s another delay, another hearing, another motion.

What if I die before this is settled? What if Turner outlives me? The thought of him walking free after I’m gone keeps me up at night.

Maryanne’s health has declined in recent years.

She’s had several hospitalizations.

Her family worries about the stress of Turner’s case affecting her well-being.

But Maryanne refuses to stop fighting.

She continues monitoring court proceedings.

She stays in contact with prosecutors.

She’s prepared to testify if Turner’s case ever goes to trial.

I made a promise to Lisa, Maryanne said in a 2023 interview.

I promised I would never stop fighting for her.

As long as I’m alive, Gerald Turner will not walk free without a fight.

Maryanne’s younger children and grandchildren have taken up the cause as well.

They attend court hearings.

They maintain social media accounts dedicated to Lisa’s memory.

They organize annual remembrance events.

The family has created a multigenerational commitment to justice.

Susan Depa, Lisa’s halfsister, who was born after Lisa’s death, has become one of the most vocal advocates for keeping Turner confined.

Susan grew up with Lisa’s ghost in a sense.

She always knew she had a sister who’d been murdered, a sister she would never meet.

As an adult, Susan has channeled that into advocacy.

She speaks at victim’s rights conferences.

She lobbies Wisconsin legislators.

She works with organizations that support families of murder victims.

Lisa can’t speak for herself, Susan said in a 2024 interview.

So, I speak for her.

I speak for the sister I never got to know.

Susan has been particularly critical of the delays in Turner’s case.

He’s getting exactly what he wants.

Every day the trial gets delayed is another day he’s alive and we’re still fighting.

He’s laughing at all of us.

The system is broken when a man can confess to killing a child, serve barely half his sentence, violate parole twice, and still be fighting for his freedom 8 years later.

Susan has called for reforms to chapter 980 to streamline the commitment process and prevent lengthy delays.

Lisa’s case has become an important symbol for victim’s rights advocates.

Organizations like the National Center for Victims of Crime, Parents of Murdered Children, and the National Organization for Victim Assistance have all referenced Lisa’s case in their advocacy work.

They point to Lisa’s murder as an example of why victim input is crucial in parole and release decisions.

Maryanne Garing was not notified before Turner’s first release in 1992.

She found out after he was already in a halfway house.

That’s unacceptable to victim’s advocates.

They successfully lobbied for laws requiring notification of victims families before offenders are released.

They also pushed for victim impact statements to be considered in civil commitment proceedings.

Turner’s law now explicitly allows victims families to speak at commitment hearings.

Lisa’s case is also cited in discussions about sentence adequacy.

38 years for murdering a child might seem like a long sentence, but with good time credits, Turner served less than 18 years the first time.

victims advocates argued this shows sentences need to be longer or good time credit systems need reform or both.

It’s worth noting that Robert Peterson and Evan Whites Turner’s attorneys genuinely believe they’re doing important work.

They’re not defending child murder.

Turner was convicted of that decades ago.

They’re defending constitutional principles.

In America, even the most despicable person deserves legal representation and fair process.

That’s not a flaw in our system.

It’s a feature.

If the government can indefinitely detain Gerald Turner without meeting the legal burden of proof, they can indefinitely detain anyone.

Peterson and Whites argue that the state hasn’t proven Turner has the required mental disorder.

If that’s true, then his continued confinement is illegal, regardless of how we feel about him as a person.

This is an uncomfortable truth.

Protecting Turner’s rights protects everyone’s rights.

If we allow shortcuts in his case because he’s so unsympathetic, we create precedent for shortcuts in other cases involving more sympathetic defendants.

That said, Peterson and Whites have received death threats for representing Turner.

They’ve been called evil monster defenders and worse.

It takes courage to represent unpopular clients.

Our legal system couldn’t function without attorneys willing to do so.

So, what’s likely to happen with Turner’s case? Several possibilities exist.

Scenario one, trial and commitment.

Turner’s case eventually goes to trial.

A jury hears all the evidence and expert testimony.

They conclude that Turner is a sexually violent person.

He’s formally committed to Sand Ridge.

Turner appeals.

The case winds through appellet courts for several more years.

Eventually, the commitment is upheld.

Turner remains at Sand Ridge for the rest of his life with annual reviews that consistently conclude he still meets commitment criteria.

He dies at Sand Ridge, never having been released.

This is what prosecutors and Lisa’s family hope will happen.

Scenario two, trial and no commitment.

Turner’s case goes to trial.

The jury concludes the state hasn’t proven beyond a reasonable doubt that Turner has the required mental disorder.

Turner is released from Sand Ridge with mandatory supervision.

He lives in a halfway house or supervised housing with GPS monitoring, regular psychological evaluation, and strict conditions.

He either successfully completes supervision without incident, or he violates conditions and ends up back in some form of custody.

This is what Turner’s attorneys are working toward.

Scenario three, settlement.

the state and Turner’s attorneys reach a negotiated settlement.

Turner agrees to remain at Sand Ridge or in some form of supervised housing without a trial.

In exchange, the state agrees to specific conditions for possible future release or agrees to less restrictive housing or some other compromise.

This would avoid a trial and appeal process that could take years more.

Scenario four.

Turner dies before resolution.

Turner is 76 years old.

He could die of natural causes before his case is resolved.

If that happens, the legal questions become moot.

The case ends.

This is a distinct possibility given Turner’s age and the pace of proceedings.

Scenario five.

Constitutional challenge succeeds.

Turner’s attorneys appeal to higher courts, arguing that his indefinite pre-trial detention violates due process rights.

An appellet court agrees and orders his immediate release or sets a firm trial date with penalties if the state doesn’t meet it.

This is a long shot, but not impossible.

Of these scenarios, one and four seem most likely.

Either Turner will eventually be tried and committed or he’ll die before the case concludes.

There’s one more possibility worth mentioning.

The US Supreme Court could take up a chapter 980 case, Turner’s or someone else’s, and rule on the constitutionality of sexually violent predator laws.

The court blessed these laws in Kansas versus Hendrickx in 1997.

But that was almost 30 years ago.

The court’s composition has changed.

Legal thinking has evolved.

If the court revisited the issue and ruled these laws unconstitutional, Turner and hundreds of other people confined under similar statutes nationwide, would be immediately released.

This seems unlikely.

The court tends to be reluctant to overturn its own precedents, especially on issues of public safety.

But it’s not impossible.

Justice questions about these laws remain.

Is indefinite civil detention really treatment focused, or is it punishment under another name? Do these laws violate the Constitution’s expost facto clause by applying retroactively to crimes committed before they were enacted? Do they violate double jeopardy protections? Are the mental health evaluations reliable enough to justify lifelong deprivation of liberty? These are serious constitutional questions that deserve thoughtful consideration.

Turner’s case matters beyond Wisconsin.

20 states plus the District of Columbia have sexually violent predator laws similar to Wisconsin’s Chapter 980.

These states all face similar challenges.

How to balance public safety, treatment, and civil liberties.

How Turner’s case resolves could influence how other states approach their own programs.

If Wisconsin successfully commits Turner after he served his criminal sentence, complied with commitment proceedings for 8 years, and multiple experts said he didn’t meet criteria.

That sets a precedent for other states to be aggressive about commitment.

If Turner successfully fights commitment and is released, that might embolden challenges to other commitment decisions.

Legal observers in states like California, Minnesota, Kansas, and others are watching Turner’s case closely.

Let’s step back and consider the full societal cost of Lisa’s murder and its aftermath.

The immediate investigation involved thousands of volunteers, countless police hours, National Guard helicopters, and massive community resources.

Turner’s trial and initial incarceration cost taxpayers hundreds of thousands of dollars.

The creation and implementation of Turner’s law, including building Sandridge, has cost Wisconsin hundreds of millions of dollars over 30 years.

Turner’s confinement at Sand Ridge for 8 years so far has cost approximately 1,100 dond6,000 at $44 per day.

His ongoing legal proceedings involve judges, prosecutors, defense attorneys, expert witnesses, and court staff, all consuming resources.

The intangible costs include Maryanne’s lifetime of grief, Lisa’s siblings growing up in a family devastated by loss, and an entire community’s loss of innocence.

One man’s decision to assault and murder a child on Halloween night has cost society millions of dollars and immeasurable suffering.

And 52 years later, we still haven’t fully resolved the case.

This past Halloween in October 2025, Fond Dulac held trick-or-treating during daylight hours on Saturday, October 26th.

The time frame was 3:30 to 5:30 in the afternoon.

Children dressed in costumes walked doortodoor accompanied by parents.

It looked nothing like the Halloween of 1973 when Lisa French set out alone in her hobo costume.

Some longtime Fonduak residents believe the restrictions have gone too far.

They argue that eliminating Halloween night trick-or-treating because of one horrific crime 52 years ago is an overreaction.

Others disagree.

They say Lisa’s murder proves that even familiar neighbors can be dangerous and caution is warranted.

The debate continues.

What’s certain is that nobody in Fondulock has forgotten Lisa.

Her case is part of the community’s collective memory, passed down from parents who lived through it to children and grandchildren who learn about it in school.

In recent years, Lisa’s family has worked to ensure her story is preserved digitally.

There are multiple websites and social media accounts dedicated to Lisa’s memory.

They share photos of Lisa, details about her life, and updates on Turner’s legal status.

A Facebook page called Justice for Lisa French has over 15,000 followers.

The administrators post regularly about court developments and encourage people to contact Wisconsin officials to support keeping Turner confined.

A change.org or petition separate from Maryanne’s original 2018 petition remains active with ongoing signatures.

YouTube documentaries about Lisa’s case have collectively been viewed millions of times.

The digital preservation ensures that future generations will know Lisa’s story even after everyone who personally knew her has passed away.

At its core, Turner’s case forces us to confront an uncomfortable moral question.

What do we owe someone who committed a terrible crime, served their legal sentence, but appears to remain dangerous? If we believe in rehabilitation, at what point do we accept that someone has been rehabilitated? Or do we accept that some people simply can’t be rehabilitated? If we believe in punishment proportional to crime, how do we justify indefinite detention after the punishment has been served? If we believe public safety is paramount, where’s the limit? Can we indefinitely detain people based on predictions they might reaffend? These questions don’t have easy answers.

Reasonable people examining Turner’s case in good faith reach different conclusions.

Some say he killed a child in the most horrific way.

He violated parole twice.

He’s clearly dangerous.

Keep him locked up forever.

The risk of releasing him is too great.

Others say he served his sentence.

The law requires proof of a mental disorder he apparently doesn’t have.

Our system doesn’t allow indefinite detention based on speculation.

He should be released with supervision.

Both positions have merit.

Both are rooted in legitimate values.

They’re just weighing competing values differently.

This is why Turner’s case has dragged on for 8 years without resolution.

It’s genuinely difficult.

Let’s return to the concept of justice.

For Maryanne Garing, justice means Turner never walks free.

He took Lisa’s life, so he should never have his freedom restored.

That’s proportional.

For Turner’s attorneys, justice means following the law as written.

If he doesn’t meet commitment criteria, he must be released regardless of our feelings about him.

For prosecutors, justice means protecting future potential victims.

If there’s any significant risk, Turner could reaffend, that risk is unacceptable.

For civil libertarians, justice means applying laws fairly and constitutionally.

You can’t detain someone indefinitely without proper legal basis, even if they’re despicable.

For victims advocates, justice means ensuring victims voices are heard and their safety is prioritized in release decisions.

For the community, justice means never forgetting Lisa and honoring her memory by preventing similar tragedies.

All of these conceptions of justice are valid, but they’re not all compatible.

That’s the tragedy of Turner’s case.

There may be no resolution that satisfies everyone’s sense of justice.

Judge Anthony Neils carries an enormous burden.

He knows that whatever decision he makes regarding Turner’s case will be criticized.

Someone will be unhappy if he allows Turner to be released and Turner commits another crime.

Neils will be blamed.

His career could be destroyed.

The political pressure would be immense.

If he keeps Turner confined without proper legal basis, civil liberties groups will appeal.

His ruling could be overturned.

His reputation as a fair jurist could suffer.

If he lets the case drag on indefinitely without resolution, everyone will criticize him for delay.

There’s no good option.

This is why judges are supposed to follow the law rather than public opinion.

The law provides structure and removes personal preference from the equation.

But in Turner’s case, the law itself is ambiguous.

Does he have a qualifying mental disorder or not? Experts disagree.

How is a judge supposed to decide? Eventually, a jury will make that determination.

But getting to trial has proven extraordinarily difficult.

Assistant Attorney General Deborah Ayala also faces difficult choices.

She represents the state in seeking Turner’s commitment.

She’s reviewed all the evidence.

She believes Turner is dangerous and should remain confined.

But she also knows that some of the state’s own expert witnesses don’t support commitment.

That makes the case difficult to win at trial.

If she takes the case to trial and loses, Turner walks free.

That outcome could be worse than negotiating some kind of settlement that keeps him supervised, even if not fully confined.

But if she settles, victim’s advocates will accuse her of not fighting hard enough for Lisa.

Ayala has been in constant communication with the Garing family.

She understands their pain and their determination to keep Turner locked up, but she also has to make realistic assessments of what she can prove at trial.

It’s an unenviable position.

Let’s consider what would happen if Turner’s case goes to trial and a jury concludes he doesn’t meet commitment criteria.

He would be released, but not without conditions.

Turner would likely be subject to lifetime GPS monitoring, residence restrictions, no living near schools, parks, or anywhere children congregate, internet restrictions, no access to social media, pornography, or certain websites.

Employment restrictions, mandatory sex offender registration with public notification.

Regular meetings with a parole officer.

mandatory participation in sex offender treatment programs, polygraph testing, random searches of his residents, prohibition on contact with minors, curfews.

These conditions are substantial.

Turner would have very little freedom even if technically released from custody.

Any violation of these conditions would result in immediate arrest and likely return to custody.

Given Turner’s history of violating parole, many people believe he would reaffend or violate conditions within months or years of release.

And so we wait.

Turner waits at Sand Ridge, aging, hoping for a trial that might result in release.

Maryanne Garing waits in Florida, aging, hoping for a trial that results in permanent commitment.

Prosecutors wait, preparing their case for whenever trial actually occurs.

Defense attorneys wait, continuing to file motions and challenge the process.

The community waits, wondering if the Halloween killer will ever face final judgment.

And Lisa’s memory waits, frozen in time at age nine, forever the girl in the hobo costume who knocked on the wrong door.

This Halloween, October 31st, 2025, marked 52 years since Lisa Anne French was murdered.

52 years.

That’s longer than most people’s entire lives.

Maryanne Garing has now spent more of her life grieving Lisa than she spent raising her.

Lisa’s siblings have spent their entire lives in the shadow of a sister they never met or barely remember.

Fondu Lac has spent two generations teaching children about Lisa’s case as a cautionary tale.

Wisconsin has spent 30 years implementing and refining a law created because of Lisa’s killer.

Hundreds of people have been confined under that law.

Some justly, some questionably.

Millions of dollars have been spent.

Countless hours of legal proceedings have occurred.

And still more than half a century later, the case remains unresolved.

It’s impossible to know what Lisa Anne French would think about how her cases unfolded.

She was 9 years old when she died.

She never had the chance to develop adult political opinions about criminal justice, civil liberties, or public safety.

But based on what we know about Lisa, her kindness, her concern for others, her Girl Scout service ethic, we can make some educated guesses.

She would probably be horrified that so many resources have been devoted to her case while other children still lack basic necessities.

She would probably want people to remember her life, not just her death.

She would probably advocate for preventing future tragedies rather than endlessly relitigating her own.

She would probably want families to heal rather than spending lifetimes consumed by grief and anger.

But Lisa doesn’t get a say.

She was silenced forever on Halloween night 1973.

All we can do is try to honor her memory by learning from her case and working to protect other children.

Here’s a hard truth that nobody wants to acknowledge.

We’ll never fully prevent tragedies like Lisa’s murder.

Evil exists in the world.

Some people lack empathy.

Some people hurt others.

We can implement better safety measures.

We can strengthen laws.

We can provide more treatment.

We can improve monitoring.

But we can’t create a perfectly safe world.

The question isn’t whether we can eliminate all risk.

We can’t.

The question is how much freedom are we willing to sacrifice in pursuit of safety.

And at what point does the cure become worse than the disease? Locking up everyone who might possibly commit a crime would certainly prevent many crimes, but it would also destroy the concept of a free society.

Finding the balance is difficult.

Turner’s case sits right on that line.

As of December 2025, here’s what we know about Turner’s case moving forward.

A trial date still hasn’t been set.

Both sides continue filing motions and counter motions.

Judge Neils has indicated he wants to move the case forward, but hasn’t issued a firm timeline.

Turner remains at Sand Ridge awaiting trial.

The Garing family continues advocating for his permanent commitment.

Media continues covering developments in the case.

Barring unexpected developments, the case will likely follow one of the scenarios outlined earlier: trial and commitment, trial and release, settlement, or Turner’s death before resolution.

Whatever happens, it won’t bring Lisa back.

It won’t fully heal her family’s pain.

It won’t make the past 52 years of grief disappear.

Justice, when it finally comes, will be incomplete.

Because in cases like this, justice always is.

Cold Case Desk has worked to present the most comprehensive, accurate account possible of Lisa Anne French’s case.

We’ve reviewed thousands of pages of court documents, police reports, newspaper archives, and legal filings.

We’ve examined the forensic evidence, the timeline of events, the legal proceedings spanning five decades.

We’ve researched Turner’s law and its implementation across Wisconsin.

We’ve looked at the broader impact on Halloween traditions, child safety measures, and victim’s rights advocacy.

What have we learned? First, that predators hide in plain sight.

Gerald Turner wasn’t a stranger lurking in shadows.

He was a neighbor, familiar, and trusted.

Second, that our criminal justice system, for all its flaws, takes time because it’s designed to protect rights.

The delays in Turner’s case are frustrating, but they reflect a system trying to balance competing interests.

Third, that grief doesn’t have an expiration date.

52 years later, Lisa’s family still fights for her.

Fourth, that individual cases can reshape laws in society.

Lisa’s murder created legislation that’s affected hundreds of people and changed how an entire state celebrates a holiday.

Fifth, that justice is complicated.

There’s no resolution to Turner’s case that will satisfy everyone because people legitimately disagree about what justice means.

There’s one question this documentary can’t answer.

What should happen to Gerald Turner? We can present the facts.

We can explain the legal arguments.

We can describe the competing interests, but we can’t tell you what the right answer is.

That’s for judges and juries to decide.

That’s for society to debate.

That’s for each person to wrestle with individually.

What we can say is this.

The question matters.

How we handle cases like Turners reveals our values as a society.

Do we prioritize safety over liberty? Do we believe in redemption and second chances? Or do we believe some crimes are unforgivable? Do we trust expert evaluations and scientific assessments? Or do we go with our gut feelings about danger? How we answer these questions shapes the kind of society we create.

Here’s what we know for certain.

Lisa Anne French mattered.

She mattered to her family who loved her.

She mattered to her classmates and teachers who remember her kindness.

She mattered to the thousands of volunteers who searched for her.

She mattered to the community that was forever changed by her death.

She mattered to legislators who created laws in her memory.

She mattered to the hundreds of people whose lives have been affected by Turner’s law.

She mattered to the countless children whose safety has been enhanced by lessons learned from her case.

Lisa was 9 years old.

She loved Girl Scouts.

She wanted to help less fortunate classmates.

She was excited about Halloween and collecting candy.

She should have lived.

She should have grown up.

She should have had the chance to make her own mark on the world.

Gerald Turner stole that from her.

But he couldn’t erase her impact.

He couldn’t silence her story.

He couldn’t prevent her case from changing the world.

In that sense, Lisa French has had more influence than most people who live full lives.

Her legacy is complex.

Part tragedy, part inspiration, part cautionary tale, but it’s a legacy nonetheless.

If you’re a parent watching this documentary, here’s what Lisa’s case should teach you.

First, trust your instincts.

If something feels wrong, it probably is.

Second, know that most children who are victimized know their abuser.

Teach your children that it’s okay to say no to any adult, even family and friends, if they feel uncomfortable.

Third, create an environment where your children can talk to you about uncomfortable things without fear of getting in trouble.

Fourth, supervise your children, but don’t suffocate them.

Finding the balance between protection and independence is difficult but necessary.

Fifth, community awareness matters.

Get to know your neighbors.

Look out for each other’s children.

Sixth, advocate for stronger laws, better enforcement, and more resources for victim protection.

Seventh, if the worst happens, don’t blame yourself.

Lisa’s mother did nothing wrong.

Predators are skilled at creating opportunities and exploiting trust.

If you are a survivor of childhood sexual abuse watching this documentary, please know what happened to you was not your fault.

You didn’t deserve it.

You have the right to heal at your own pace.

Speaking up if and when you’re ready is incredibly brave.

There are resources available.

RAIN, rape, abuse and incest national network, local sexual assault support centers, therapists specializing in trauma.

You are not alone.

Lisa’s case ended in tragedy, but many survivors go on to live full, successful, meaningful lives.

You can, too.

On October 31st, 1973, 9-year-old Lisa Anne French put on a hobo costume, kissed her mother goodbye, and walked out the door into the twilight.

She was carrying a bag for candy.

She was excited about Pumpkin Place.

She was planning to meet her best friend.

She knocked on a neighbor’s door and she never came home.

52 years later, her killer sits in a secure treatment facility.

76 years old, still fighting for his freedom.

Her mother, now in her 80s, still fights to keep him confined.

The legal system slowly grinds forward, processing motions and scheduling hearings that never seem to result in resolution.

And somewhere in a cemetery in Fond Dulak, a gravestone marks where a little girl rests.

Forever 9 years old, forever remembered, forever missed.

The case of Lisa Anne French and Gerald Turner, the Halloween killer, continues.

Justice delayed is justice denied.

But for Lisa’s family, delayed justice is better than no justice at all.

So they wait and they fight and they remember and they hope that someday, somehow the system will finally deliver the justice that Lisa deserves.

This has been the complete investigation into the Halloween killer case here on Cold Case Desk.

If this comprehensive documentary has given you new insight into one of Wisconsin’s most notorious cases, please hit that subscribe button right now and turn on notifications so you never miss our detailed true crime investigations.

Leave a comment below telling us what you think should happen to Gerald Turner.

Should he remain confined? Should he be released under supervision? What does justice look like in a case this complex? And please give this video a like.

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And your likes help this channel grow and allow us to keep producing comprehensive documentaries like this one.

If you want to support Lisa’s family and their ongoing fight, you can find active petitions by searching Keep Halloween Killer Confined online.

Lisa’s sister Susan maintains social media pages where you can stay updated on the case.

For Cold Case Desk, this is the story of Lisa Anne French, the Halloween killer, and a legal battle that’s lasted longer than Lisa’s short life.

Thank you for watching this investigation.

Stay safe, look out for your neighbors, and never forget that the most dangerous people are often the ones who look the most normal.

Until next time.