Twelve-year-old Chicago-area resident Mary Kellerman complained to her parents that she had a headache, and her parents gave her an over-the-counter pain reliever. Hours later the girl was dead.
Later the same day, postal worker Adam Janus inexplicably died in a Chicago-land hospital; his brother Stanley, along with wife Theresa, died that evening after gathering with family members to mourn Adam's death, theirs too having no explanation. In the coming days four more Chicago region citizens would die and the link soon became evident.
Extra-strength Tylenol capsules, laced with potassium cyanide.
Fear and apprehension gripped the entire nation as law enforcement, including the Federal Bureau of Investigation, scrambled to find the serial killer. Psychologists specializing in the profiling of mass murderers had no answers, claiming that the person(s) responsible just didn't fit within any of their parameters. Johnson and Johnson, makers of Tylenol, spent millions of dollars recalling the pain reliever. Food and drug manufacturers made sweeping packaging changes, instituting tamper-proof containers in consumer-line products.
New York resident James William Lewis, a tax consultant, was later arrested for extortion after sending a letter to Johnson & Johnson, demanding one million dollars to stop the poisonings; he was never connected to the murders, but spent fifteen years in a federal penitentiary for sending the letter. In addition, over 270 'copycat' incidents were reported across the nation after the mass publicity generated by the Tylenol murders bloomed in national media.
Law enforcement still possesses some of the poison-laced capsules, hopeful that, some day, DNA testing will produce a culprit. The legacy still lives with us on a daily basis, however, whenever we open any medication. Improvements in consumer packaging security have kept us safe over the last forty-five years, thanks to a heinous crime committed in September of 1982.
