On November 22, 1977, Bruce Lubeck went before Judge Ray Banks in Salt Lake City and appealed for a new trial in the DaRonch case. The prosecution, Lubeck said, had withheld evidence, notably Thompson’s report on DaRonch’s initial identification. Banks agreed on the latter point, but ruled that the evidence would not have changed the outcome. David Yocum had been Banks’ protégé during his days as a prosecutor.
December 28th, Judge Lohr released an eighteen-page opinion ruling that capital punishment was “cruel and unusual punishment,” denying a defendant “mitigating circumstances.”Lohr also granted Bundy’s motion for a change of venue, shifting the trial to Colorado Spring, the hometown of special prosecutor Blakey. Three of the six inmates on the State’s death row had faced Colorado Springs juries.
“You’re sentencing me to death,” Bundy told the judge. “You’re throwing me right in their backyard.” The prosecution asked that the murder trial be postponed until it could appeal the ruling against the death penalty decision.
That night, Bundy placed a collect call to Dick Larsen, a friend in Seattle.
“You’re going to have to watch the Rose Bowl game,” Larsen said.
“Not here,” Bundy said. Four hours laters, inmates complained to a guard that somebody was moving through the crawl space between the ceiling and the roof.
On December 30th, Ted Bundy fashioned a sleeping form in his bunk with the mound of legal documents generated by the Campbell case. Applying a few final touches with two copies of Penthouse, a yoga book and Shirley MacLaine’s You Can Get There From Here, he then dismantled the lighting fixture in the ceiling. Squeezing through the eighteen-inch hole, he squirmed through the crawl space. He kicked in the top of a closet in jailer Bob Morrison’s apartment, grabbed two shirts and walked out of jail.
A stolen car, police later said, carried Bundy to Edwards, Colorado. He then hitched a ride to Vail, hopped a bus to Denver and jumped on a place to Chicago. He celebrated New Year’s in the club car of a Michigan-bound train.
Three days later, Ted Bundy sat in a bar in Ann Arbor, Michigan, and watched the Rose Bowl game. The University of Washington, Bundy’s alma mater, beat Michigan by seven points.
“I felt more at ease when he was gone than I had in two years,” remembers Bundy’s mother, who had pleaded with him to surrender after his first escape. “I knew he had planned it to the nth degree. It was a perfect weekend when nobody was around. We hoped he wasn’t going to get captured. It seemed that in Colorado and Utah he was never going to get a fair shake.”
In Washington, the FBI put Bundy on the Ten Most Wanted list; some 250,000 were printed saying Bundy was “wanted for questioning in connection with thirty-six sexual type murders.” This is ten more than the record holder, Juan Corona. - Rolling Stone, December 14, 1978
Gloria Edwards was sitting in the back of a tour bus, lying on the top-bunk of a bunk-bed, humming contently as she flipped through a few pages of a glossy music magazine. The bird was on tour with Sweet. She wasn’t a musician or anything like they were, she was Steve Priest’s bird though, and he insisted when they went and toured in America that she come with them, and despite how hectic she assumed it could get, she went with them anyways, happy to do so.
She gasped when she felt the bus hit a bump. She could’ve sworn she felt her body rise from the bed for a second or two. “What was that?” She called out curiously, stopping and dropping her magazine when the bus suddenly shuddered, hitting a whole series of bumps. Christ, was it off the road or something?!