Anaheim Man Fled to Wilds to ‘Disappear’

Most visitors are drawn to this mountain hamlet for its lush forests, cascading streams and towering, snow-capped peaks. David L. Schoenecker came to escape.

The 48-year-old chemical engineer from Anaheim Hills fled here after mailing a letter to an Orange County newspaper columnist saying he had killed his own wife.

Schoenecker pitched camp in remote, wind-swept areas so cold that ice formed on the inside of his tent. He was captured Friday by an Old West-style posse a day after the body of his wife, Gail, 40, was found by Anaheim police. She had been shot through the head with a .357-magnum handgun.

Disappearance Planned

Upon his arrest, Schoenecker said he had planned to “disappear into the mountains of Idaho,” police said.

Schoenecker was transferred Saturday from custody in Superior, where he was held in Mineral County’s 69-year-old brick jail, to the Missoula jail, where he faces an extradition hearing Monday.

Anaheim Detective Dave Tuttle said Schoenecker was moved so he could be closer to a lawyer of his choosing and because it would be more convenient for Anaheim police, who are questioning him. Before his transfer, Tuttle and a second Anaheim police detective questioned Schoenecker for 1 1/2 hours. Tuttle declined comment on whether Schoenecker had given a statement. Schoenecker was led back to jail in handcuffs afterward.

A short time later, however, Schoenecker was overheard telling another reporter in a jailhouse interview that “my mind is very confused” and “I’m afraid.”

In the interview, Schoenecker provided some explanation for including certain people on a list of 54 acquaintances and relatives whom police say he wanted “punished.” Police found the list in Schoenecker’s home and notified those named on it to take precautionary measures. Most live in his home state of Wisconsin, police said.

Schoenecker said Saturday he had harbored grievances against some of his classmates in grade school. He said one girl “just slapped me as hard as she could and threw a book at me, and I don’t know why.”

That girl’s name was on the list, he said. Schoenecker also referred to grudges he had against two boys from his youth. “We weren’t necessarily the best of friends and not the worst of friends.”

When asked what he had planned to do to the 54 people named on the list, Schoenecker said, “I don’t see myself as hurting everybody.”

Schoenecker said he mailed a letter to the newspaper columnist Monday, although he thought at the time “it was foolish.” Afterward, he said, he considered fleeing toward Mexico, traveling through Utah and Nevada. But he disliked that option because it would necessitate putting stolen license plates on his car, Schoenecker said.

According to Mineral County Sheriff Wade Van Gilder, Schoenecker bought a lot of camping gear at a Missoula sporting goods store and drove an hour west to Cedar Creek Road, near Superior. His car was discovered abandoned there with a flat tire. Van Gilder said the car was headed toward Hoodoo Pass, which crosses over the 7,000-foot Bitterroot Range into Idaho.

Schoenecker said he had planned to abandon his car “in a location that seemed ideal, according to the map.” He said he carried with him topographical maps of the area, as well as for much of the United States.

With snowdrifts of up to 4 feet deep pressing in on both sides of Cedar Creek Road, Schoenecker was forced to hike along the road, which was covered with about 3 feet of packed snow, Van Gilder said.

While Schoenecker headed for Idaho, news that a wanted killer was in the area spread in tiny Superior (population, 1,000). Schoenecker was described in law enforcement bulletins as armed and dangerous.

Although residents have grown accustomed to fugitives occasionally passing by on Interstate 90, George Howell, editor and publisher of the Mineral Independent, said this was something different.

“They thought, ‘Here’s some nut running around with a gun,’ ” Howell said.

But Superior is a rough-and-ready logging town, where men cruise around in pickup trucks with gun racks. The guns are kept primarily for hunting the large numbers of elk, deer, moose and bear in the surrounding wilderness. So it was with no trouble that Sheriff Van Gilder called out reinforcements to his staff of two deputies and two reserve deputies. Two snowmobile riders reported a man of Schoenecker’s description backpacking up Cedar Creek Road. The posse tracked Schoenecker from where the dust-covered Bonneville had been found abandoned earlier in the week halfway up the mountain pass.

Answering Van Gilder’s call were seven members of the Mineral County Search and Rescue Team, a group of volunteers frequently called out to find lost hunters or to retrieve boaters from the swollen Clark Fork River. The group has little experience, however, in tracking armed fugitives.

“I was nervous. You never know, he could have been waiting for us,” said volunteer Steve Unruh. Two men on horseback bogged down in drifts of snow and had difficulty going on.

The seven men continued hiking up the road at a rapid pace, picking up Schoenecker’s tracks when they reached the snow level at about 5,000 feet. Harvey Vincent, a search team member and local newspaper printer, said the tracks were easy to follow because Schoenecker was heavily laden with supplies and his steps sank deeply into the snow.

Gordon Hendricks, president of the search and rescue team, said the posse members could see from the tracks that Schoenecker was slowing down.

“His steps were so short that you could tell he was packing a lot,” Hendricks said. “We found out later his pack must have weighed 100 pounds.”

Besides the tracks, Schoenecker left a trail of empty soda cans, a towel from a Missoula motel and chewing gum wrappers, Vincent said.

Van Gilder said it was apparent that Schoenecker didn’t know he was being followed “until we caught him.”

As they closed in, Van Gilder said, he dispatched three helicopters from Missoula to fly ahead and try for a better fix on Schoenecker. One helicopter spotted Schoenecker trudging ahead up the road, the sheriff said. Schoenecker even paused to wave at it.

Van Gilder summoned the helicopter back to pick up him and Tim Coleman, a reserve member of the posse. The copter flew ahead of Schoenecker and dropped down onto the road. The sheriff and Coleman jumped out, pistols in hand. Coleman set up position behind a fir tree on one side of the road while the sheriff got behind a tree on the other.

By this time, Schoenecker had hiked about 20 minutes and came into view. Van Gilder said he allowed him to walk another 25 yards down the road before he and Coleman emerged from their hiding positions, guns trained on him.

“I just told him, ‘Halt!’ and that if he moved I would shoot him dead,” said Van Gilder, 38. “I had a .357 magnum and I was going to use it. I told him to lie down on the road. He did. He was tired and cold and wet.”

Schoenecker was wearing a Windbreaker, leather hiking boots and a baseball cap. He had a loaded .357 magnum pistol within reach.

Schoenecker said he had spent three nights sleeping in the wilderness and had packed ample supplies, including “canned beef, cereal, water, toothbrush, some meat, raisins, cooking (utensils), sleeping bag and tent.”

In questioning the man afterward, Van Gilder said Schoenecker used an alias at first but later admitted his identity.

Schoenecker easily could have lost himself in the wilderness, local residents said, because the forest is so vast that even expert hunters can lose their bearings in it. Had he made it into Idaho, residents said, he might have disappeared.

Van Gilder said Schoenecker was not far from eluding the posse. If he had reached bare earth again where his tracks would not have shown, the sheriff said, the posse probably would not have picked up his trail.

“What it boils down to,” said Grant Stelling, a Superior grocer, “is that there’s a lot of wilderness out there.”