His voice was calm; his words, curt; his message, chilling.
He was going to kill his 10 Amish schoolgirl hostages “in two seconds” if state police didn’t clear out.
“Don’t try to talk me out of it, get them all off the property now,” milkman Charles Roberts warned a 911 dispatcher shortly before carrying out his senseless slaughter in the one-room schoolhouse in West Nickel Mills, Pa.
“I just took, uh, 10 girls hostage and I want everybody off the property or, or else,” Roberts had threatened the Lancaster dispatcher seconds earlier, according to a transcript of the Oct. 2 call released yesterday.
Roberts adamantly refused to stay on the line with state police, who had surrounded the schoolhouse in response to an earlier 911 call from a farmer.
“No, you tell them and that’s it,” Roberts snapped. “Right now or they’re dead in two seconds.”
“Two seconds, that’s it,” he repeated when the dispatcher urged him to “hang on a minute, we’re trying to tell them, OK?”
The line went dead as the dispatcher pleaded, “Sir, listen to me. Listen . . . ”
Three minutes later, Roberts’ frantic wife, Marie, phoned 911.
“My husband just called me on his cellphone and told me that he wasn’t going to be coming home and that the police were there and not to worry about it.
“I have no idea what he is talking about, but I am really scared,” she said.
Soon after, her call was transferred to the state police and, with her panic intensifying noticeably, she once again had to identify herself and explain why she was calling – saying her husband had “left notes for myself and my children.”
Finding once, she told the dispatcher, “Here it is. ‘My daughter, Abigail, I want you to know that I love you and I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to watch you grow up.’ That’s how the notes start.”
The line went dead as the dispatcher asked her to “hold on one moment.”
Minutes later, as state troopers stormed the schoolhouse, Roberts methodically shot all 10 girls he had lined up and bound together. Then he took his own life.
Five of the girls died.
Also yesterday, state police said they were looking at Roberts as a suspect in an attempted rape near his home last year. The victim was a 39-year-old woman.
They also reported someone had vandalized Roberts’ grave, kicking the dirt and throwing off the flowers.
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Cold call
Excerpts from the transcripts of three 911 calls received about Charles Roberts Amish schoolhouse siege:
10:35:29 call from farmer Amos Smoker
A.S.: There’s a, there’s a guy in the school with a gun.
10:55:38 call from gunman Charles Roberts
C.R.: I just took, uh, 10 girls hostage and I want everybody off the property or, or else.
911: OK, all right.
C.R.: Now.
911: Hold on a second. (Pause)
911: OK, what’s the problem there?
C.R.: Don’t try to talk me out of it, get them all off the property now.
911: Sir, I want you to stay on the phone with me, OK? I’m going to let the state police down there I need to let you talk to them, OK? Can I transfer you to them?
C.R.: No, you tell them and that’s it. Right now or they’re dead in two seconds.
911: Hang on a minute, we’re trying to tell them, OK?
C.R.: Two seconds, that’s it.
911: Sir, listen to me. Listen… (Line goes dead)
10:58:39 call from gunman’s wife, Marie Roberts
M.R.: My husband just called me on his cellphone and told me that he wasn’t going to be coming home and that the police were there and not to worry about it. And I have no idea what he is talking about, but I am really scared …
911: OK, and, and all he said to you was that . . .
M.S.: I’m not coming home. Um, he was upset about something that had happened 20 years ago, and he said he was getting revenge for it. I don’t think he was getting revenge on another person. I’m worried that maybe he was trying to commit suicide.
Her call is transferred to state police.
M.R.: My husband just called me and said that he wasn’t coming home and that the police were there and that he left notes for myself and my children and I’m worried that he tried to commit suicide somewhere. And…
S.P.: OK, you say he left notes?
M.R.: Yes.
S.P.: What did the notes say?
M.R.: Like, the thought of not my children, not seeing them grow up, like. Let’s see, uh, I’m not even sure. Here it is. ‘My daughter, Abigail, I want you to know that I love you and I’m sorry I couldn’t be here to watch you grow up.’ That’s how the notes start.