Awhile back, a fellow GA member told me the story of a party buddy he used to have, and a curiosity surrounding him late one summer that still gives him chills to this day. Here's the story:

His Casual Acquaintance

When Greg was in his teens, he went to high school in the South. It was the early 1970's, and his hair was long- all the way to the back. Back then, having long hair meant that you smoked pot. At least the old folks thought you did, anyway. It was a sign that you weren't willing to confirm to regular society.

Greg had this friend Barry. Barry was this really hot guy, so effin' hot that as Greg put it, "The sidewalks just sizzled under his feet." As a popular hot guy, Barry would throw parties, and that was how Greg got to know David.

David was a cute guy with long blond hair that came just off his shoulders. Greg described him as someone who was kind of easily led, though. He was friends with Barry, so Greg would see him a lot socially at various parties that were being thrown at various houses. They both had long hair, and back then it was a sign you were into smoking pot, or were sympathetic to those who did. Greg didn't smoke at that particular time (he had a couple years earlier), but David did, and they both had a few things in common that led to small talk while they partied. Mostly, Greg just remembers David would bale out of the parties at one point to take care of some business, whatever that was. Nothing too intense, really- just some regular party buddy talk and then David excusing himself for some reason or another.

Except one night, Greg noticed David staring at him, hard. Like, that eyes-in-the-back-your-head kind of feeling came over Greg.
You know that instinct thing? Well, Greg described the feeling as being there. He had that feeling once before- Greg was hitching a ride, and the guy who picked him up kept talking about going to a party. The whole thing kept getting weirder and weirder, so he excused himself when they hit a stoplight. So that feeling was back and Greg knew it'd be best if he didn't get too close to David.

Anyway, Greg didn't spend his summers in Houston, where he lived at the time. Instead, he spent them in Portland with his godfather.
So late one summer up in Portland, who does Greg see on his t.v. but his casual party buddy, David Owen Brooks. He and another teenager, Elmer Wayne Henley, had assisted a local Houston man named Dean Corll in murdering up to two dozen young boys over the past couple years. One night in August 1973, Elmer Wayne Henley finally put an end to it and shot the guy, and everything unraveled after that as they helped the police begin to dig up the bodies. It made national news, and every night another detail, another victim was revealed. They mostly buried their victims under a boat shed, or in various beaches around the area. Forty years later, they're still trying to identify victims, and it's believed that the true victim count is much higher than 28.

Before you ask, Barry wasn't a victim, and Greg never met Corll or Henley. Brooks insisted that he only watched the murders but never participated. Didn't help him that much- he's still serving time in jail, likely for the rest of his life.

Greg said of this this period of his life, "In some ways, it's better to not be drop-dead attractive. Any more attention from the guy, I coulda been in that boat shed."

I don't think Greg gives himself enough credit though- I think Greg had strong "instinct", whatever that is, and that David likely knew that about him, which is why he never targeted him.

In any event, Greg was lucky as hell that he was never invited to a private party with that particular trio of people and that David was never more than his casual acquaintance.