Dark Downeast - The Murder of Douglas J. Parent (Maine)

Episode Date: January 10, 2022

WALDOBORO, MAINE 1983: Who killed well-known Waldoboro figure Douglas J. Parent? And why? His case has been on the Maine Unsolved Homicide list for decades, and one rumor about what happened the night of October 2, 1983 has circulated nearly as long. In this special episode of Dark Downeast, you’ll get to know Doug Parent through his own words and voice and we’ll dig into the whispered theory that even some inside the law enforcement community believe could hold pieces of the truth, if only they could prove it.If you have any information about the murder of Douglas J. Parent, please contact the Maine State Police Major Crimes Unit at [phone] or submit a tip here.  View source material and photos for this episode at darkdowneast.com/dougparentFollow @darkdowneast on Instagram, Facebook, and TikTokTo suggest a case visit darkdowneast.com/submit-case Dark Downeast is an audiochuck and Kylie Media production hosted by Kylie Low.

This is side one of the cassette tape with the interview with Douglas J. Parent in the only side. It was a Sunday afternoon in April of 1977. University of Maine student Richard Petrovitz sat down at the table with his subject and hit record on the cassette player. This is Sunday, April 24th. I'm having an interview with Douglas J. Parent, who owns the Waldeboro Newsstand in Waldeboro, Maine. My name is Richard Petrovitz, and I'm also from Waldeboro. The interview was part of the coursework for COM 101,

Speaker-Audience Communication at the University of Maine at Augusta. Students were documenting the stories of Maine in a collection of oral history, and 58-year-old Douglas Parent had stories to tell. Okay, my name is Douglas J. Parent, better known as DJ. I am a native state of Maine, born in Waterville, March 24th, 1919. Doug talked about his time in the Army, his career, his decision to strike out on his own and open Waldeboro Newsstand. Richard asked Doug about life in Lincoln County in the mid-20th century, how things had changed since he first came to Waldenboro,

and what hadn't. And then Richard asked Doug this. What do you think about any of the crime around here? Was there any bad crimes that you can ever remember? Well, I mean, that's a touchy subject. No, there's never been a major crime committed since I've been here. No murders? No, no, no murders.

No murders not in the town of Waldeboro. Not that I can recall. No murders in the town of Waldeboro. Not that Doug could recall on that Sunday afternoon in April of 1977. Six years and six months later, that would all change. On October 3rd, 1983, the interview subject himself,

Douglas J. Parent, would be found dead in his Waldeboro apartment. Who killed the well-known Waldeboro figure, and why? His case has been on the main unsolved homicide list for decades, and one rumor about what happened

that night has circulated nearly as long. You'll get to know Doug Parent through his own words and his voice, and we'll dig into the whispered theory that even some inside the law enforcement community believe could hold pieces of the truth. If only they could prove it. I'm Kylie Lowe, and this is the case of Douglas J. Parent on Dark Down East. When University of Maine at Augusta student Richard Petrovitz sat down with him in 1977,

Doug Parent was quite possibly the most recognizable and well-known figure in the small Waldeboro, Maine community. Reporting by Emmett Mara in the Bangor Daily News said Doug's shop, the Waldeboro Newsstand, was at the crossroads of town, both geographically and spiritually. He made for the ideal interview subject for Richard. Doug had lots to say about himself, his life, and the town in which they both lived. DJ, as he says he was better known, was born in Waterville, Maine in 1919. He was sent to parochial school in Massachusetts after his father passed away, and then attended John Bapst High School in Bangor. I was valedictorian. You'd never know it now. away, and then attended John Bapst High School in Bangor.

That's Doug. Self-deprecating, often abrasive, but a straight shooter. You knew exactly how DJ was feeling at any given moment. I don't care whether I get back there again or not. But he likes to come down here occasionally just to see what's going on. See if I've been married or got any kids that I don't have any. Don't have time. My father died when I was six years of age and my mother died when I was 27. So you see, I've had to go a long way. But I don't consider it as though I've done very bad at it, because I've always had the chance and the opportunity to work, and I've always worked. After graduating high school, Doug went to work for the Atlantic and Pacific Tea Company,

known today as the A&P Grocery Store chain. But he was drafted into the United States Army soon after, in 1936. He talks about his time in the service as some of the best years of his life. As someone from small-town Maine, it opened up his world to experiences and places he wouldn't have otherwise known. The major turning point in my life, sir, I can tell you,

was being drafted into the United States Army. If it hadn't been for Pearl Harbor in 1941, I never would have been outside the state of Maine. It broadened my perspective terrifically. Otherwise I still would have been a hick from the sticks. A hick from the sticks? That's right. You met people from every walk of life. You met them from every

state of the union. You were able to compare your way of living with their way of living. You swapped ideas. You visited, gave you a chance to visit, it gave you a chance to travel, and while you were in the service, you had the chance to go to school. I went to surgical technician school at Fitzsimmons, Denver, Colorado, and became a surgical technician. Yes, sir, we at times even assisted the doctors in operations. Sometimes those operations were circumcisions. Yes, very interesting indeed. I would like to see some of the boys today that we operated on. Probably they're not functioning the way they should.

And if they're not, all they have to blame is the technicians and not the doctors. When his time in the service ended, Doug ventured back to Maine with a new worldview and new skills and returned to his position with the A&P Tea Company. So then after returning from the service, I went back to work for the great A&P Tea Company. And I traveled returning from the service, I went back to work for the great ANPT Company, and I traveled all over the state as an assistant manager. Vinalhaven, Skowhegan, Lincoln, East Millinocket, Millinocket, Belfast, and finally Augusta. I left the service to the ANP to go to work for the great Depositors Trust company. I was sent here by depositors' trust company for a two-week stay.

Little did I realize the two weeks was going to turn into 22 years. Oh, yeah. 22 years in the installment loan department and part of the time as assistant manager. Doug established himself as a pillar of the Walderboro community. According to a profile of Doug Parent by Lynn Franklin, published in her book Profiles of Maine, Doug was active in the American Field Service and hosted exchange students. He was president of the Waldeboro Lions Club and held other positions within the organization,

and he was proud of his 20 years of perfect attendance at meetings, too. He was active in the Chamber of Commerce, Waldeboro Merchants Association, Boy Scouts, Girl Scouts. There aren't too many more organizations to belong to, he told Lynn. If there were, I would have belonged to them. After over two decades with ANPT, Doug felt a pull. He was 48 years old and ready for something new, an entrepreneurial endeavor. Then I began to decide I wanted to go out on my own.

And that is when I made the step and bought the old newsstand in Wallerville that had been here for over 100 years, formerly known as Ludwig's Newsstand. He didn't have an education in business, and he'd never run his own business before, but DJ wasn't afraid of figuring it out on his own. That's how he'd always done it. Doug was proud to be self-made. Bill Kramer bought it from Margie Freeman, and I bought it from Margie and Bill Freeman in 1967.

And I opened it up on May the 1st, and I've been here ever since. The Waldeboro newsstand is how Doug is best known. He sold the usual items, local, regional, and national newspapers and magazines, some of them adult magazines, candy and beverages and beer. The store was also a collection station for Central Maine Power, the telephone company, and the water utilities, so people could pay their bills through Doug too. He was a drop-off location for dry

cleaning and laundry service and a Greyhound bus agent. As Doug told Lynn Franklin, quote, if there's anything to be handled and there's money to be made in it, old DJ will handle it. That is the story of my life, end quote. Doug was quite literally in the middle of everyone's business. He was handling their bills and their laundry, and his prime center of town location gave him a unique vantage point for the goings on around him. He lived in the apartment above the newsstand, so even when Doug wasn't working, which was rare, he was still right there, right in the middle of it. Do you ever think you'd like to write a book about what goes on around here? Probably when I retire, that's what I would do.

And let me tell you, it would be on the best-selling list. But you see, living up over the store, I have access to what takes place in front, I have access to what takes place on the library lawn, and there's a lot of activity that goes on up there. There is. What happens up there? What happens up there? What happens on the library lawn? Oh, there are a lot of things, Richard, that I would like to tell about.

But, I mean, we don't repeat everything. Not everything, but some things. For instance, one night, there was a party that was laying out there on the lawn in front of the Veterans Monument up there where the flagpole is. And I saw the state trooper's car go up over the hill, and of course, he saw the body over there. And he went up, and he turned, and he came back down, and he stopped and he looked. It was a female body. So the next time I looked out the window, here's three or four of the town cops cars,

the Lincoln County Sheriff Patrol, and they're all standing. Naturally, they can't do anything because it's a female and there's no female cops. Standing here in the window, they finally did convince the young lady that she was intoxicated and that she should get up and remove herself from the lawn. And she gave them quite a hassle. In fact, she took one of the caps off of the officer's head and she put it on. Finally, she did manage to get herself off of the lawn onto the sidewalk. She finally came to rest right down here on the curb of the sidewalk,

and I was standing right here in the sidewalk. She finally came to rest right down here on the curb of the sidewalk, and I was standing right here in the window. And I heard her say, there's that goddamn Doug Perrin up there in the window looking what's going on. I listened to the interview of Doug by Richard alone in my office. It was dark and quiet in my house except for the two voices playing in my headphones. It was fascinating listening to Doug narrate his own life story,

especially knowing what I know now about Doug. And the picture he painted of life in Maine in the mid-20th century had me so invested in his words. And then I reached the point of the interview where Richard asked Doug about crime in Waldeboro. When I tell you I got chills from head to toe, I mean it. I was slack-jawed. What do you think about any of the crime around here? Was there any bad crimes that you can ever remember? Well, I mean, that's a touchy subject. No, there's never been a major crime committed since I've been here. No, no, no of... No, no, no murders. No murders under the town of Waterworld. Not that I can recall.

I paused and listened to that clip over and over. It's just so strangely, wildly ironic and foreboding. There's no way either man could have known the events that would play out

just six and a half years later. It was Monday morning, October 3rd, 1983. Doug was 64 years old and had been running Waldeboro Newsstand for 19 years at that point. The years of early mornings and 24-7, 365 service to every need of his customers were beginning to catch up with him. He finally planned to retire and counted down the weeks until it was official. On October 3rd, 1983, he had just 10 weeks remaining. As reported by the Bangor Daily News, Doug went out to dinner at the Bonanza restaurant in Rockland on the evening of October 2nd. Jackie Tate, his right arm as Doug called her, would open the store the next morning so Doug could sleep in.

Jackie was there at the shop bright and early, getting her morning customers their newspapers and sodas, fielding questions of the Greyhound bus passengers wanting to know what time their bus would arrive. Jackie hollered up to Doug's apartment a few times throughout the morning, but heard nothing in response. Around 10.30am, a regular customer and a friend of Doug, a fisherman named Sidney Geyer, popped in to say hello. He asked for Doug in the shop, but Jackie said she still hadn't seen him that day. Sidney knew where to find Doug in his apartment just above the shop. He scaled the stairs and knocked, but no answer. He called

Doug's name again, stepping inside the apartment. That's when he saw him, motionless, on his bedroom floor. First responders attempted life-saving measures on 64-year-old Doug Parent, but it was too late. The very first assumption was that, given his age, Doug died of a heart attack. The scene was not sealed, his apartment was not processed as a crime scene, but his body was sent for autopsy by Dr. Ronald Roy. The town of Waldeboro was stunned to hear of Doug's death. From the Rexall store to Moody's Diner on Route 1, the talk centered on DJ. Sam Pennington of Antique Digest, located not far from the newsstand,

told the Bangor Daily News, quote, Parent was the most important man in Waldeboro. He held the town together, end quote. Doug's next-door neighbor, Bob O'Brien, told the paper, quote, There is an emptiness here now that he's gone. It will be hard to replace. End quote.

When the autopsy results came back, the town had even more to talk about. The story Doug's body told was not that of a heart attack. Doug died of a fractured larynx. The classification of DJ's death was not a medical event. No, it was a suspicious death. Maybe even a homicide. A team of state police detectives spent each day in Waldeboro trying to piece together anything they could that led them to an answer in Doug's death. It was not immediately classified as a homicide, despite the autopsy findings. You see, a fractured larynx is an injury that can be sustained in a number of ways.

It's typically associated with strangulation, but it's also seen in car accidents, plane crashes, falls, and self-inflicted strangulation by hanging. The public was quick to shoot down any suspicion of Doug dying by suicide. He was simply too excited about retirement and had made too many plans to travel. No way he killed himself, Bob O'Brien told the Bangor Daily News. No way. Since it was obvious that this wasn't the result of a car accident or a plane crash, the other theory was that Doug fell and injured himself and died as the result. As of October 18th, 1983, Sergeant Douglas Holmes of the Maine State Police wasn't convinced it was a homicide, but left the possibility open, saying, quote, the only way we will decide for sure is to arrest a perpetrator. It is a rarity

to find a fractured larynx in a falling accident, but it has happened, end quote. Although little information was shared with the public concerned about the investigation, it seemed like the police didn't have enough evidence to lean confidently in either direction. Questions abound. Was there a murder weapon found in the scene? I mean, I'm guessing not, because that itself would have made it obvious that it was in fact a homicide. Did Doug have any enemies? Doug could be abrasive, but friends and customers alike insisted that he didn't have an enemy in the world. What about his apartment? Any signs of forced entry or a struggle? Doug's longtime friend Bob O'Brien said that he wasn't one to leave his doors unlocked. Quote, he let in whoever did it. End quote. Amidst the talk of the town and the state police investigation, an early theory emerged.

This could have been about money. According to sources in town who spoke to Maine State Police, Doug Parent was borderline obsessive about keeping cash on hand at the shop, or rather, not keeping it. Emmett Mira for the Bangor Daily News reported that Doug would make multiple trips to the bank each day, up to five or six times to make deposits. He didn't want anyone to get any ideas about robbing the shop. DJ told Lynn Franklin for her profiles of Maine, quote, People seem to think that since I've been here, I've amassed a small fortune. They say, oh gee, if I had your money, I wouldn't be working. If I had the money people thought I

had, I wouldn't have the goddamn doors open and have them closed, boarded up, end quote. State police detectives followed up on this speculation and first discovered that there was up to $1,000 unaccounted for. This missing deposit, however, was later located. Still, the money theory persisted in another direction. Doug was known to routinely lend money to people. Perhaps an interaction with a borrower that night of October 2nd, 1983 went wrong. It was all they had to go on. But whether they had any strong leads, any serious direction to take in the investigation, isn't clear. Weeks rolled on. Five months after the sudden and

shocking death of Doug J. Parent, investigators still had no answers. The town of Waldeboro honored their most well-known citizen with a dedication in the town report. It's a shame that he had to leave early, Sam Pennington wrote. Meanwhile, Lt. Gene Pierce of the Maine State Police told the Bangor Daily News in March of 1984 that although the medical examiner termed Doug's death a homicide, state police were still reluctant to

move past a suspicious death classification. Quote, we are not classifying it as a homicide or an accident. We are still calling it a suspicious death and the file is still very much open. There are all kinds of things that people say to be checked out, he continued. We have no suspects. We have several people we have questioned several times, but we do not call them suspects. I could not say when, but I would say it will come to a conclusion, end quote. Doug Parent's Waldeboro newsstand kept on running, thanks to his right arm, Jackie Tate. Doug had left her the shop in his will.

And the town kept on talking, though conversation did fade and fizzle as each year passed. Sam Pennington told Fox Bangor in 2019, quote, I think if you walked down the street and asked people who Doug Parent was, the line of how long you lived in Waldeboro would be immediately clear, end quote. Despite Lieutenant Pierce's confidence in 1984, a conclusion has yet to be reached in the death of Doug J. Parent. It'll be 39 years in October of 2022. Sometime after the Maine State Police Cold Case Squad was formed, Doug J. Parent's name was added to the Maine State Police unsolved homicide list,

apparently indicating the official classification of his death as murder, not only a suspicious death. And with that, a new detail was revealed to the public too. His listing reads, Parent was last seen alive on 10-2-83 at approximately 8.45 p.m. in his apartment. Parent told a witness that he was going to meet a subject at 9 p.m. about money that was owed to Parent by the subject. On 10-3-83, Parent was found dead in his apartment. It seems that after all these years, the rumor was anchored in a bit of truth. This had everything to do with money. Find out who was in debt to Doug, and you might just find Doug's killer. The people of Waldeboro who knew Doug, who lived in town and frequented his shop,

even members of the law enforcement community, and a high-ranking official at the Maine State Prison at the time, had one name in mind. As I dug around this story and contacted sources to learn more about this case, they all offered me the name of their own alleged suspect, unprompted. He's known as Fat Jack. I'm not usually one to report on a rumor if I can't suss out a threat of truth on my own. But here's the part that makes me feel like this rumor needs to be mentioned. Every person I spoke to mentioned the name Fat Jack, some following it up with, but you didn't hear it from me. Because this is a rumor, and as of the release of this episode I am unable to determine if this individual is alive or deceased, I'll refer to him only by his pseudonym, Fat Jack or Jack.

For the record, his legal name is not Jack or any variation on it. In 1980, three years before Doug's murder, Jack was serving a five-year sentence at Maine State Prison in Thomaston for an aggravated assault conviction. During his time there, Jack established himself as a shot caller, a leader of the inmates, if you will. Fat Jack earned another moniker while at Maine State Prison, the Novelty King. The story of Jack the Novelty King and his entrepreneurial

endeavors behind bars is an entire story in and of itself. But here's the short version, as it relates to Doug Parent's story. According to a piece titled Making Goods Behind Bars by Jeffrey Shedd, published in the December 1989 edition of Econ Update, the Maine State Prison Crafts and Novelties Program was established in the 1950s, giving inmates access to state-owned woodshop equipment to explore their creativity and fill idle time. Anything they'd created, mainly furniture and other woodworking novelties like ashtrays and table lamps, could be sold in the state prison showroom located just up the road from the prison. Although the inmates weren't paid to make the products, they did earn money from the

sale. Jeffrey Shedd reported that the so-called prison industries allowed inmates to hire other inmates for specialized work and collaborate on pieces. Inmates could then pay each other in canteen coupons, a currency used behind bars that could be spent at the canteen or commissary or banked with the prison's business office. Until 1976, this program was run and overseen by prison administrators, and earnings, as well as products produced, were capped. However, the appointment of a new Maine State prison warden transferred control of the program to a novelty committee, largely dominated by inmates. The caps were raised, the rules changed, and the program exploded.

As Shedd wrote in his 1989 report, the program was seen as a huge success and a benefit for inmates. Tourist groups and locals alike loved picking up the impressive wood furniture and finely crafted decor pieces in the showroom shop. But as it grew, so did leaders within the program, and the entrepreneurial spirit bred an imbalance of power between the prison staff and the prison inmates. Fat Jack was considered among the top employers within the program, with a team of an estimated 50 inmates working for him. But his business expanded beyond the wood novelties sold in the showroom. He started a TV rental service for other inmates, and even started lending money. Jack's rise to power within the inmate ecosystem appeared

to make him untouchable by the prison guards. The Bangor Daily News reported that Jack had a private lounge and an office within the main state prison facility, separate from his cell, that he furnished with a TV, a radio, and a sofa, as well as a well-stocked refrigerator, and even weapons. Jack didn't like it when prison officials went snooping around his things, so he kept his lounge locked. Only he had a key. In early 1980, prison officials decided they needed to do something about the novelty program and its leaders. At 5 a.m. on April 16, 1980, 150 Maine State police officers and national

guardsmen, clad in riot gear, their perimeter guarded by snipers, carried out their operation for a prison-wide lockdown, a move they'd been planning for months. As a result of the lockdown, the novelty program was brought back to administrators' control. Caps were reinstated, and new policies were put in place. Jack's private lounge was raided and dismantled, contraband was confiscated, and Jack himself was transferred to a facility in Indiana for the remainder of his sentence. And when that sentence was up, Jack moved back to Maine and opened up a shop of his own, calling it Nautical Crafts Company. With a staff of mostly former inmates, Jack continued building and selling wooden furniture and novelties from a two-story house in Waldeboro, Maine.

The rumor persists even to this day. The person who owed Doug Parent money, who Doug was going to see the night before he was found dead on his apartment floor, was Fat Jack, allegedly. A source I spoke to under the condition of anonymity, an individual who held a leadership position within the Maine State Prison at the time of Jack's stay and the 1980 lockdown, told me this about Fat Jack, the novelty king. Quote, I never had a problem dealing with him, but he was a dangerous man. End quote. One thing that tripped me up about this rumor, though, after his release and upon opening his business, Jack made himself a known figure, just as he was while in prison. He sued the main state prison to regain what he believed to be his assets, namely a sign outside the prison

showroom and industrial woodworking equipment he purchased to use in the novelties program while still an inmate. This lawsuit brought media attention. Jack was quick to brag about his success both during and after lockup and news interviews. He told Emmett Mara, quote, I planned to gross $1 million in the first year, but I was wrong. We should do better than that. End quote. That was 1981. So why would a man who claimed to be running a seven-figure business need to borrow money from a newsstand owner? I asked my anonymous source the same question. He told me, quote,

Jack could tell stories. He got arrested for stealing steaks at Hannaford right after his release. All law enforcement believed Jack killed Doug, but no proof, end quote. No charges have been filed against any person as it relates to the homicide of Doug Parent. Maine State Police have not publicly named any suspects in his death. What's the truth? Someone knows. Someone has kept the answers that would bring closure to Doug J. Parent's long-standing cold case homicide.

As we approach the 39th anniversary of DJ's death, we can only hope that someone out there is ready to unburden themselves of their knowledge before it's too late. Before the opportunity for conclusion is lost forever. Doug remains a notable piece of Waldeboro history. Main State Police posted Doug's photo in 2016, seeking any information from the public about his murder. The comment thread was filled with memories of the outspoken shop owner and World War II veteran. Definitely a well-known character from back in the day, one said. He sure added spice to our town, another wrote. It's a shame. Doug was a good man.

It was fun to get him worked up and listen to him rant, a post read. So what did he think about how the townspeople saw him? Richard Petrovitz couldn't help but ask for Doug's take. Some people around the town, Doug, come into your store in the Waldron who stand down here and think that your language sometimes is a little bit hostile towards the people. What do you think of that? I think this. What I have to say,

whether it's hostile, whether it's religious or sacrilegious, whether it's prose or poem, whether it's prose or poem, whether it's sarcasm or whether it's good, down, right, I don't give a goddamn. That's my privilege and prerogative. If you have any information about the murder of Douglas J. Parent, please contact the Maine State Police Major Crimes Unit at 207-624-7143 or use the online tip form linked in the show notes of this episode. This is the end of Side 1 and the only side of this interview.

This is April 24, 1977, and this is Richard Petrovitz doing the interview from All the World Maine. Thank you for listening to Dark Down East. Sources for this case include an interview with Douglas J. Parent conducted by Richard Petrovitz for the University of Maine at Augusta course COM-101 in April of 1977. The full citation is listed, along with other source material, at darkdowneast.com. At the end of 2021, I focused this end portion of the show on highlighting missing and unidentified persons in Greater New England. And what I learned from this process is that there are so many families seeking any help they can get to spread the word about their missing loved ones. With that, I will continue to bring attention to these cases in 2022 in a closing segment called Missing New England. According to NamUs, 16-year-old Cindy Morales, that's Cindy with an S, ran away from home in New Britain, Connecticut with an unknown male. Her family last had contact with her on November 17th, 2021. Cindy's phone was tracked from Connecticut to Texas, and now the phone is disconnected and

can't be tracked. She might be in San Antonio, Texas and working at a McDonald's. Please report any information regarding Cindy's whereabouts to the New Britain Police Department at 860-826-3000. This information is listed at darkdowneast.com slash missing. Thank you for supporting this show and allowing me to do what I do. I'm honored to use this platform for the families and friends who have lost their loved ones and for those who are still searching for answers in cold missing persons and murder cases. I'm not about to let those names or their stories get lost with time. I'm Kylie Lowe and this is Dark Down East.