Richard Carl “Ritchie” Robison

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Richard Carl “Ritchie” Robison

Birth
Detroit, Wayne County, Michigan, USA
Death
25 Jun 1968 (aged 42)
Good Hart, Emmet County, Michigan, USA
Burial
Beverly Hills, Oakland County, Michigan, USA Add to Map
Memorial ID
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One of Michigan's most horrifying and perplexing mass murders took place in late June 1968, at the private summer resort of Blisswood in northwest Michigan, two miles north of Good Hart. An entire family of six - Richard C. Robison, 42, and his wife Shirley, 40; sons Richard, 19, Gary, 17, Randy, 12, and daughter Susie, 8 — was gunned down at their summer cottage on Lake Michigan. One of the bodies was discovered on Monday, July 22, by caretaker Chauncey A. Bliss after the Robisons' neighbors alerted him to a foul odor near the cottage. The caretaker wasn't surprised that the door was locked and windows tightly curtained. The last time he had seen the family was on June 23, when Robison had told him they were about to leave on a trip. What he saw inside made his blood run cold. He quickly closed the door, relocked it and called police. Within a short time, half a dozen police officers arrived, entering the cottage through what one of the officers described as a "wall of flies." They found dead bodies all over the place. All had been shot in the head. It appeared that Shirley had also been sexually assaulted. The police also found a blood-stained hammer on the living room floor, and a set of bloody footprints. An autopsy revealed that all had been shot by bullets of two different calibers, identified later as from a .25 Beretta handgun and AR-7 .22 long rifle. It was found that Susan had also been bludgeoned by a hammer. After months of investigation, the authorities were convinced that this was a premeditated, cold-blooded mass murder by a lone gunman who wanted Robison dead and no witnesses. The evidence suggested that the family was gathered around a table in the living room, playing cards. The first shots came from a .22 caliber rifle through a window near the door. The killer then entered the cottage to finish his grissly work with the handgun. On the day after the autopsy, Shirley Robison's brother, along with Robison's business partner and associate, Joseph Scolero, chartered a plane from Detroit to Petoskey to talk with police. Scolero said he was shocked by the murders. "We were more like brothers than business partners," he said. The police listed him as a possible suspect. A routine check turned up some troubling evidence: that he had a heated telephone argument with Robison on the morning of the murders; that he couldn't account for 11 hours of that day; and that he owned the same kind of guns used in the murders. Robison and Scolero owned a Detroit-area advertising business. Scolero also fit the profile police had put together of the killer. They believed he was possibly a good friend of the family, familiar with the cottage and premises, and perhaps had stayed there as a friend. The murder weapons were never found. The investigation dragged on, and Scolero was never charged. Five years later, Joseph Scolaro committed suicide with a Beretta handgun. However, he left a note that he was innocent of the Robison murders.

Note: Joseph Scolaro did use a Beretta to end his own life. However, it was not the murder weapon but a matching one bought at the same time that he purchased the .25 caliber Beretta murder weapon. He had a habit of buying two of everything. He had to really dig deep to come up with a story the police might believe to overcome the consequences of that habit. EVERY alibi he told the State Police detectives was proven to be false. Detective Stearns knew he had his man after his first interview of Scolaro at the office of Richard Robison. The case only dragged on because Emmet County, where the Robison cottage was located, did not want to spend the money for the trial. Justice was denied until Scolaro made it happen with his own suicide! (submitted by Richard Wiles of Petoskey)
One of Michigan's most horrifying and perplexing mass murders took place in late June 1968, at the private summer resort of Blisswood in northwest Michigan, two miles north of Good Hart. An entire family of six - Richard C. Robison, 42, and his wife Shirley, 40; sons Richard, 19, Gary, 17, Randy, 12, and daughter Susie, 8 — was gunned down at their summer cottage on Lake Michigan. One of the bodies was discovered on Monday, July 22, by caretaker Chauncey A. Bliss after the Robisons' neighbors alerted him to a foul odor near the cottage. The caretaker wasn't surprised that the door was locked and windows tightly curtained. The last time he had seen the family was on June 23, when Robison had told him they were about to leave on a trip. What he saw inside made his blood run cold. He quickly closed the door, relocked it and called police. Within a short time, half a dozen police officers arrived, entering the cottage through what one of the officers described as a "wall of flies." They found dead bodies all over the place. All had been shot in the head. It appeared that Shirley had also been sexually assaulted. The police also found a blood-stained hammer on the living room floor, and a set of bloody footprints. An autopsy revealed that all had been shot by bullets of two different calibers, identified later as from a .25 Beretta handgun and AR-7 .22 long rifle. It was found that Susan had also been bludgeoned by a hammer. After months of investigation, the authorities were convinced that this was a premeditated, cold-blooded mass murder by a lone gunman who wanted Robison dead and no witnesses. The evidence suggested that the family was gathered around a table in the living room, playing cards. The first shots came from a .22 caliber rifle through a window near the door. The killer then entered the cottage to finish his grissly work with the handgun. On the day after the autopsy, Shirley Robison's brother, along with Robison's business partner and associate, Joseph Scolero, chartered a plane from Detroit to Petoskey to talk with police. Scolero said he was shocked by the murders. "We were more like brothers than business partners," he said. The police listed him as a possible suspect. A routine check turned up some troubling evidence: that he had a heated telephone argument with Robison on the morning of the murders; that he couldn't account for 11 hours of that day; and that he owned the same kind of guns used in the murders. Robison and Scolero owned a Detroit-area advertising business. Scolero also fit the profile police had put together of the killer. They believed he was possibly a good friend of the family, familiar with the cottage and premises, and perhaps had stayed there as a friend. The murder weapons were never found. The investigation dragged on, and Scolero was never charged. Five years later, Joseph Scolaro committed suicide with a Beretta handgun. However, he left a note that he was innocent of the Robison murders.

Note: Joseph Scolaro did use a Beretta to end his own life. However, it was not the murder weapon but a matching one bought at the same time that he purchased the .25 caliber Beretta murder weapon. He had a habit of buying two of everything. He had to really dig deep to come up with a story the police might believe to overcome the consequences of that habit. EVERY alibi he told the State Police detectives was proven to be false. Detective Stearns knew he had his man after his first interview of Scolaro at the office of Richard Robison. The case only dragged on because Emmet County, where the Robison cottage was located, did not want to spend the money for the trial. Justice was denied until Scolaro made it happen with his own suicide! (submitted by Richard Wiles of Petoskey)