Post by Scumhunter on Nov 3, 2016 3:58:31 GMT -5
(Above photo credit: Spartanburg County (South Carolina) Sheriff's Office website)
From goupstate.com:
Two women wash the tombstone as sunlight flits through trees and shines on Ronald Sam Rogers' name. Dogwood blossoms are engraved in the stone and a cherub stares heavenward. His grave in Oconee County looks pristine — like the life Rogers tried to live.
When he was murdered, all the bills were ready to mail. A notebook listed all his expenses. But they never found his journal or the backpack he always carried. They looked in ditches, peered over banks, searched roads and a trash dump for his belongings.
Saturday Posted Nov 2, 2013 at 12:01 AM Updated Nov 3, 2013 at 12:39 AM
Two women wash the tombstone as sunlight flits through trees and shines on Ronald Sam Rogers' name. Dogwood blossoms are engraved in the stone and a cherub stares heavenward. His grave in Oconee County looks pristine - like the life Rogers tried to live.
By Kim Kimzeykim.kimzey@shj.com
Two women wash the tombstone as sunlight flits through trees and shines on Ronald Sam Rogers' name. Dogwood blossoms are engraved in the stone and a cherub stares heavenward. His grave in Oconee County looks pristine — like the life Rogers tried to live.
When he was murdered, all the bills were ready to mail. A notebook listed all his expenses. But they never found his journal or the backpack he always carried. They looked in ditches, peered over banks, searched roads and a trash dump for his belongings.
Perhaps the journal holds clues that could give his family some peace. The grief? That's dimmed over the last 21 years, but darkness lingers over holidays and special occasions.
The most difficult part for Rogers' family — besides his loss — is the unknown.
"That and you just feel empty," his sister, Ginger Porter, said.
Rogers was found shot to death at the end of a cul-de-sac at 1:40 a.m. on April 26, 1992. The cul-de-sac was in a then-remote area near a Duncan industrial park, about a half-mile off Highway 290.
As far as investigators can determine, Rogers was last seen at a Dairy Queen that used to be at Truck Stops of America at Highway 290 and Interstate 85.
Rogers was found lying nude beside his red, 1985 Chevrolet Camaro. The late Spartanburg County Coroner Jim Burnett told the Herald-Journal at the time that Rogers had been shot at close range with a small-caliber gun.
The area where Rogers was found was not as developed as it is today. Spartanburg County Sheriff's Office Investigator Allan Wood said the cul-de-sac was known as a "lover's lane" — a desolate place where underage kids went to drink and people used drugs.
Wood said Rogers was last seen talking to a man at the Dairy Queen on April 24. Maybe he killed Rogers, maybe not. Perhaps it was a truck driver.
The motive remains a mystery.
"It could be anything. You could let your imagination run away with you in several directions," Wood said.
Investigators know some of Rogers' items were taken. Wood declined to name those items.
"You could assume that it was robbery because a couple items were taken, but that might have been just an opportunity," Wood said. Maybe the murderer took something "just because they could," he said.
Whoever killed Rogers left forensic evidence. That evidence was tested shortly after Rogers' death and later retested.
Investigators chased about 80 leads before the case reached a dead end.
Because Rogers was found nude, Wood said it leads one to believe there may have been a sexual encounter.
The location where the killing occurred indicates the assailant may have been a stranger.
Rogers had recently moved into a trailer at 130 Cherry Creek Lane in Wellford.
"(Rogers) lived less than two miles away. Why not just take this person to his house. Why this cul-de-sac? Why agree to that if that was the other person's suggestion?" Wood questioned.
The randomness makes the case more difficult to solve and more frightening.
"They could be doing this all over the United States if they're a truck driver," Wood said.
Wood said there were no similar homicides in Spartanburg County at the time or since.
But Rogers' death may not have been random.
"You have to entertain all possibilities," Wood said.
Ginger Porter said her brother was fun, happy and adventurous. They grew up in Salem. The surrounding area abounds with natural beauty.
The church where he was baptized at 13 and buried at 26 is Mt. Carmel No. 2 Independent Baptist Church. It's located just off the Cherokee Foothills Scenic Highway. Lake Keowee is nearby, so is Jocassee Gorges.
Rogers graduated Tamassee-Salem High School. His mother, Carole Moss, said classmates voted him most likely to succeed.
Rogers moved to Atlanta and enrolled at DeVry University. Porter, his sister, said he loved the city. He told her she would always live in their hometown; he wanted to see the world.
"Sam would have went to the moon if he could have got up there," said his aunt, Carol Queen.
Moss said Rogers was working at a Greenville company that made computer parts when he was killed and planned to complete his college education here before he was killed.
The size of Rogers' heart matched his zeal for life.
"He loved affection, and he was affectionate, and he was the type, he demanded it," Moss said.
He didn't forget birthdays, enjoyed giving Christmas gifts and lending a hand. If Porter was sick, he visited with medicine and chicken noodle soup.
Saturday Posted Nov 2, 2013 at 12:01 AM Updated Nov 3, 2013 at 12:39 AM
Two women wash the tombstone as sunlight flits through trees and shines on Ronald Sam Rogers' name. Dogwood blossoms are engraved in the stone and a cherub stares heavenward. His grave in Oconee County looks pristine - like the life Rogers tried to live.
By Kim Kimzeykim.kimzey@shj.com
Two women wash the tombstone as sunlight flits through trees and shines on Ronald Sam Rogers' name. Dogwood blossoms are engraved in the stone and a cherub stares heavenward. His grave in Oconee County looks pristine — like the life Rogers tried to live.
When he was murdered, all the bills were ready to mail. A notebook listed all his expenses. But they never found his journal or the backpack he always carried. They looked in ditches, peered over banks, searched roads and a trash dump for his belongings.
Perhaps the journal holds clues that could give his family some peace. The grief? That's dimmed over the last 21 years, but darkness lingers over holidays and special occasions.
The most difficult part for Rogers' family — besides his loss — is the unknown.
"That and you just feel empty," his sister, Ginger Porter, said.
Rogers was found shot to death at the end of a cul-de-sac at 1:40 a.m. on April 26, 1992. The cul-de-sac was in a then-remote area near a Duncan industrial park, about a half-mile off Highway 290.
As far as investigators can determine, Rogers was last seen at a Dairy Queen that used to be at Truck Stops of America at Highway 290 and Interstate 85.
Rogers was found lying nude beside his red, 1985 Chevrolet Camaro. The late Spartanburg County Coroner Jim Burnett told the Herald-Journal at the time that Rogers had been shot at close range with a small-caliber gun.
The area where Rogers was found was not as developed as it is today. Spartanburg County Sheriff's Office Investigator Allan Wood said the cul-de-sac was known as a "lover's lane" — a desolate place where underage kids went to drink and people used drugs.
Wood said Rogers was last seen talking to a man at the Dairy Queen on April 24. Maybe he killed Rogers, maybe not. Perhaps it was a truck driver.
The motive remains a mystery.
"It could be anything. You could let your imagination run away with you in several directions," Wood said.
Investigators know some of Rogers' items were taken. Wood declined to name those items.
"You could assume that it was robbery because a couple items were taken, but that might have been just an opportunity," Wood said. Maybe the murderer took something "just because they could," he said.
Whoever killed Rogers left forensic evidence. That evidence was tested shortly after Rogers' death and later retested.
Investigators chased about 80 leads before the case reached a dead end.
Because Rogers was found nude, Wood said it leads one to believe there may have been a sexual encounter.
The location where the killing occurred indicates the assailant may have been a stranger.
Rogers had recently moved into a trailer at 130 Cherry Creek Lane in Wellford.
"(Rogers) lived less than two miles away. Why not just take this person to his house. Why this cul-de-sac? Why agree to that if that was the other person's suggestion?" Wood questioned.
The grave of Ronald Rogers in Oconee County.
The randomness makes the case more difficult to solve and more frightening.
"They could be doing this all over the United States if they're a truck driver," Wood said.
Wood said there were no similar homicides in Spartanburg County at the time or since.
But Rogers' death may not have been random.
"You have to entertain all possibilities," Wood said.
Ginger Porter said her brother was fun, happy and adventurous. They grew up in Salem. The surrounding area abounds with natural beauty.
The church where he was baptized at 13 and buried at 26 is Mt. Carmel No. 2 Independent Baptist Church. It's located just off the Cherokee Foothills Scenic Highway. Lake Keowee is nearby, so is Jocassee Gorges.
Rogers graduated Tamassee-Salem High School. His mother, Carole Moss, said classmates voted him most likely to succeed.
Rogers moved to Atlanta and enrolled at DeVry University. Porter, his sister, said he loved the city. He told her she would always live in their hometown; he wanted to see the world.
"Sam would have went to the moon if he could have got up there," said his aunt, Carol Queen.
Moss said Rogers was working at a Greenville company that made computer parts when he was killed and planned to complete his college education here before he was killed.
The size of Rogers' heart matched his zeal for life.
"He loved affection, and he was affectionate, and he was the type, he demanded it," Moss said.
He didn't forget birthdays, enjoyed giving Christmas gifts and lending a hand. If Porter was sick, he visited with medicine and chicken noodle soup.
Porter was two years older than her little brother and protective. They might squabble as siblings do, but no one else could "pick on him."
Queen said no one messed with Rogers.
"If they did, they had to answer to Ginger or me because we would fight them over that little fellow," she said.
And he tried to protect them from something he wrestled with.
Raised in the Christian faith, Rogers struggled with his sexuality. He never came out to his family. Porter and others say he thought they might not approve. They had suspicions after he moved in with another man. Their love for him overshadowed misgivings about his sexuality.
Moss said her son wanted to change. Rogers visited one night and asked her to call the preacher. He wanted them to meet at the church. Moss said her son told her, "He needed to make things right."
Rogers faithfully attended church services the last few months of his life.
Saturday Posted Nov 2, 2013 at 12:01 AM Updated Nov 3, 2013 at 12:39 AM
Two women wash the tombstone as sunlight flits through trees and shines on Ronald Sam Rogers' name. Dogwood blossoms are engraved in the stone and a cherub stares heavenward. His grave in Oconee County looks pristine - like the life Rogers tried to live.
By Kim Kimzeykim.kimzey@shj.com
Two women wash the tombstone as sunlight flits through trees and shines on Ronald Sam Rogers' name. Dogwood blossoms are engraved in the stone and a cherub stares heavenward. His grave in Oconee County looks pristine — like the life Rogers tried to live.
When he was murdered, all the bills were ready to mail. A notebook listed all his expenses. But they never found his journal or the backpack he always carried. They looked in ditches, peered over banks, searched roads and a trash dump for his belongings.
Perhaps the journal holds clues that could give his family some peace. The grief? That's dimmed over the last 21 years, but darkness lingers over holidays and special occasions.
The most difficult part for Rogers' family — besides his loss — is the unknown.
"That and you just feel empty," his sister, Ginger Porter, said.
Rogers was found shot to death at the end of a cul-de-sac at 1:40 a.m. on April 26, 1992. The cul-de-sac was in a then-remote area near a Duncan industrial park, about a half-mile off Highway 290.
As far as investigators can determine, Rogers was last seen at a Dairy Queen that used to be at Truck Stops of America at Highway 290 and Interstate 85.
Rogers was found lying nude beside his red, 1985 Chevrolet Camaro. The late Spartanburg County Coroner Jim Burnett told the Herald-Journal at the time that Rogers had been shot at close range with a small-caliber gun.
The area where Rogers was found was not as developed as it is today. Spartanburg County Sheriff's Office Investigator Allan Wood said the cul-de-sac was known as a "lover's lane" — a desolate place where underage kids went to drink and people used drugs.
Wood said Rogers was last seen talking to a man at the Dairy Queen on April 24. Maybe he killed Rogers, maybe not. Perhaps it was a truck driver.
The motive remains a mystery.
"It could be anything. You could let your imagination run away with you in several directions," Wood said.
Investigators know some of Rogers' items were taken. Wood declined to name those items.
"You could assume that it was robbery because a couple items were taken, but that might have been just an opportunity," Wood said. Maybe the murderer took something "just because they could," he said.
Whoever killed Rogers left forensic evidence. That evidence was tested shortly after Rogers' death and later retested.
Investigators chased about 80 leads before the case reached a dead end.
Because Rogers was found nude, Wood said it leads one to believe there may have been a sexual encounter.
The location where the killing occurred indicates the assailant may have been a stranger.
Rogers had recently moved into a trailer at 130 Cherry Creek Lane in Wellford.
"(Rogers) lived less than two miles away. Why not just take this person to his house. Why this cul-de-sac? Why agree to that if that was the other person's suggestion?" Wood questioned.
The grave of Ronald Rogers in Oconee County.
The randomness makes the case more difficult to solve and more frightening.
"They could be doing this all over the United States if they're a truck driver," Wood said.
Wood said there were no similar homicides in Spartanburg County at the time or since.
But Rogers' death may not have been random.
"You have to entertain all possibilities," Wood said.
Ginger Porter said her brother was fun, happy and adventurous. They grew up in Salem. The surrounding area abounds with natural beauty.
The church where he was baptized at 13 and buried at 26 is Mt. Carmel No. 2 Independent Baptist Church. It's located just off the Cherokee Foothills Scenic Highway. Lake Keowee is nearby, so is Jocassee Gorges.
Rogers graduated Tamassee-Salem High School. His mother, Carole Moss, said classmates voted him most likely to succeed.
Rogers moved to Atlanta and enrolled at DeVry University. Porter, his sister, said he loved the city. He told her she would always live in their hometown; he wanted to see the world.
"Sam would have went to the moon if he could have got up there," said his aunt, Carol Queen.
Moss said Rogers was working at a Greenville company that made computer parts when he was killed and planned to complete his college education here before he was killed.
The size of Rogers' heart matched his zeal for life.
"He loved affection, and he was affectionate, and he was the type, he demanded it," Moss said.
He didn't forget birthdays, enjoyed giving Christmas gifts and lending a hand. If Porter was sick, he visited with medicine and chicken noodle soup.
Porter was two years older than her little brother and protective. They might squabble as siblings do, but no one else could "pick on him."
Queen said no one messed with Rogers.
"If they did, they had to answer to Ginger or me because we would fight them over that little fellow," she said.
And he tried to protect them from something he wrestled with.
Raised in the Christian faith, Rogers struggled with his sexuality. He never came out to his family. Porter and others say he thought they might not approve. They had suspicions after he moved in with another man. Their love for him overshadowed misgivings about his sexuality.
Moss said her son wanted to change. Rogers visited one night and asked her to call the preacher. He wanted them to meet at the church. Moss said her son told her, "He needed to make things right."
Rogers faithfully attended church services the last few months of his life.
"The last three months that he lived, he had come back to church and made things right with the Lord," Moss said. She said coworkers who attended his funeral service — they and others waited in a line that weaved through every room of the funeral home, down the sidewalk and to the police station — told her they had noticed a change in Rogers. "That was just the Lord's way of giving me that assurance that everything was OK, even though he was gone."
Porter and Queen last saw him on the Easter before his murder. Family says he was identified by his Bible in his car.
Moss said investigators found no one who held a "grudge" against her son or had a motive to kill him.
"We don't know either. I've turned it over to the real judge. That's how I live with it. The good Lord up above knows, and if that person doesn't get saved they will face the judgment for the crime they did," Moss said.
It took Porter more than three years to accept her brother's death.
"He was always there," she said through tears. "It was like it took half of me away."
Their father died not knowing who killed his son. Norman Rogers lived across the street from his son at the time of the crime. Norman moved a year later — unable to bear the sight of the yellow tape around the trailer.
Queen, the aunt, said Norman told her that when he spoke to Rogers, he had no plans for the evening. They say two steaks were thawing in the sink, and two pieces of cake were in the refrigerator. The trailer, as usual, was immaculate.
Queen speculates that two people may have been involved in his death. She thinks the killer had to have a ride from the cul-de-sac because Rogers' car wasn't stolen.
"The person could have come to the house and forced him," his mother said.
The family still has hope.
Porter is hopeful the killer will be brought to justice through advances in forensic science. There is DNA evidence.
"Now, they can do so much more," Porter said.
Wood, the investigator, said it would be difficult for someone to remain silent all these years.
Saturday Posted Nov 2, 2013 at 12:01 AM Updated Nov 3, 2013 at 12:39 AM
Two women wash the tombstone as sunlight flits through trees and shines on Ronald Sam Rogers' name. Dogwood blossoms are engraved in the stone and a cherub stares heavenward. His grave in Oconee County looks pristine - like the life Rogers tried to live.
By Kim Kimzeykim.kimzey@shj.com
Two women wash the tombstone as sunlight flits through trees and shines on Ronald Sam Rogers' name. Dogwood blossoms are engraved in the stone and a cherub stares heavenward. His grave in Oconee County looks pristine — like the life Rogers tried to live.
When he was murdered, all the bills were ready to mail. A notebook listed all his expenses. But they never found his journal or the backpack he always carried. They looked in ditches, peered over banks, searched roads and a trash dump for his belongings.
Perhaps the journal holds clues that could give his family some peace. The grief? That's dimmed over the last 21 years, but darkness lingers over holidays and special occasions.
The most difficult part for Rogers' family — besides his loss — is the unknown.
"That and you just feel empty," his sister, Ginger Porter, said.
Rogers was found shot to death at the end of a cul-de-sac at 1:40 a.m. on April 26, 1992. The cul-de-sac was in a then-remote area near a Duncan industrial park, about a half-mile off Highway 290.
As far as investigators can determine, Rogers was last seen at a Dairy Queen that used to be at Truck Stops of America at Highway 290 and Interstate 85.
Rogers was found lying nude beside his red, 1985 Chevrolet Camaro. The late Spartanburg County Coroner Jim Burnett told the Herald-Journal at the time that Rogers had been shot at close range with a small-caliber gun.
The area where Rogers was found was not as developed as it is today. Spartanburg County Sheriff's Office Investigator Allan Wood said the cul-de-sac was known as a "lover's lane" — a desolate place where underage kids went to drink and people used drugs.
Wood said Rogers was last seen talking to a man at the Dairy Queen on April 24. Maybe he killed Rogers, maybe not. Perhaps it was a truck driver.
The motive remains a mystery.
"It could be anything. You could let your imagination run away with you in several directions," Wood said.
Investigators know some of Rogers' items were taken. Wood declined to name those items.
"You could assume that it was robbery because a couple items were taken, but that might have been just an opportunity," Wood said. Maybe the murderer took something "just because they could," he said.
Whoever killed Rogers left forensic evidence. That evidence was tested shortly after Rogers' death and later retested.
Investigators chased about 80 leads before the case reached a dead end.
Because Rogers was found nude, Wood said it leads one to believe there may have been a sexual encounter.
The location where the killing occurred indicates the assailant may have been a stranger.
Rogers had recently moved into a trailer at 130 Cherry Creek Lane in Wellford.
"(Rogers) lived less than two miles away. Why not just take this person to his house. Why this cul-de-sac? Why agree to that if that was the other person's suggestion?" Wood questioned.
The grave of Ronald Rogers in Oconee County.
The randomness makes the case more difficult to solve and more frightening.
"They could be doing this all over the United States if they're a truck driver," Wood said.
Wood said there were no similar homicides in Spartanburg County at the time or since.
But Rogers' death may not have been random.
"You have to entertain all possibilities," Wood said.
Ginger Porter said her brother was fun, happy and adventurous. They grew up in Salem. The surrounding area abounds with natural beauty.
The church where he was baptized at 13 and buried at 26 is Mt. Carmel No. 2 Independent Baptist Church. It's located just off the Cherokee Foothills Scenic Highway. Lake Keowee is nearby, so is Jocassee Gorges.
Rogers graduated Tamassee-Salem High School. His mother, Carole Moss, said classmates voted him most likely to succeed.
Rogers moved to Atlanta and enrolled at DeVry University. Porter, his sister, said he loved the city. He told her she would always live in their hometown; he wanted to see the world.
"Sam would have went to the moon if he could have got up there," said his aunt, Carol Queen.
Moss said Rogers was working at a Greenville company that made computer parts when he was killed and planned to complete his college education here before he was killed.
The size of Rogers' heart matched his zeal for life.
"He loved affection, and he was affectionate, and he was the type, he demanded it," Moss said.
He didn't forget birthdays, enjoyed giving Christmas gifts and lending a hand. If Porter was sick, he visited with medicine and chicken noodle soup.
Porter was two years older than her little brother and protective. They might squabble as siblings do, but no one else could "pick on him."
Queen said no one messed with Rogers.
"If they did, they had to answer to Ginger or me because we would fight them over that little fellow," she said.
And he tried to protect them from something he wrestled with.
Raised in the Christian faith, Rogers struggled with his sexuality. He never came out to his family. Porter and others say he thought they might not approve. They had suspicions after he moved in with another man. Their love for him overshadowed misgivings about his sexuality.
Moss said her son wanted to change. Rogers visited one night and asked her to call the preacher. He wanted them to meet at the church. Moss said her son told her, "He needed to make things right."
Rogers faithfully attended church services the last few months of his life.
"The last three months that he lived, he had come back to church and made things right with the Lord," Moss said. She said coworkers who attended his funeral service — they and others waited in a line that weaved through every room of the funeral home, down the sidewalk and to the police station — told her they had noticed a change in Rogers. "That was just the Lord's way of giving me that assurance that everything was OK, even though he was gone."
Porter and Queen last saw him on the Easter before his murder. Family says he was identified by his Bible in his car.
Moss said investigators found no one who held a "grudge" against her son or had a motive to kill him.
"We don't know either. I've turned it over to the real judge. That's how I live with it. The good Lord up above knows, and if that person doesn't get saved they will face the judgment for the crime they did," Moss said.
It took Porter more than three years to accept her brother's death.
"He was always there," she said through tears. "It was like it took half of me away."
Their father died not knowing who killed his son. Norman Rogers lived across the street from his son at the time of the crime. Norman moved a year later — unable to bear the sight of the yellow tape around the trailer.
Queen, the aunt, said Norman told her that when he spoke to Rogers, he had no plans for the evening. They say two steaks were thawing in the sink, and two pieces of cake were in the refrigerator. The trailer, as usual, was immaculate.
Queen speculates that two people may have been involved in his death. She thinks the killer had to have a ride from the cul-de-sac because Rogers' car wasn't stolen.
"The person could have come to the house and forced him," his mother said.
The family still has hope.
Porter is hopeful the killer will be brought to justice through advances in forensic science. There is DNA evidence.
"Now, they can do so much more," Porter said.
Wood, the investigator, said it would be difficult for someone to remain silent all these years.
"To some degree they've professed what they have done," Wood said of the killer.
He said they may have included only some details, fabricated others, minimized what they did. They may have told someone a different story, a variation of the account, revealing only some details.
"They're talking about it, which is the most important thing," Wood said. "When you vocalize something, it's a release of pressure."
As family recently talked about Rogers, they spoke of his loving actions and the smile they so remember.
"Anybody that knew him, loved him," Queen said.
Rogers' mother would like to lie down at night and not wonder if her son's killer is murdering his next victim.
www.goupstate.com/news/20131102/cold-cases-unsolved-slaying-leaves-family-feeling-empty
www.spartanburgsheriff.org/unsolved-homicides.php (scroll down for Rogers case)
Admin Note #1: According to the Spartanburg County (South Carolina) Sheriff's Office website, anyone with information is asked to contact the Spartanburg County Sheriff’s Office at (864) 503-4509 or Senior Investigator Brandon Letterman at (864) 503-4608. Callers may remain anonymous.
Admin Note #2: If you have any (news-related) updates on this case, please contact us here: amwfans.com/thread/1662/website-contact-form
