Contradictions Mark Profile of Famalaro

John Joseph Famalaro’s mother was devoutly religious and a well-known political activist in Santa Ana who championed conservative causes. His older brother is a convicted felon who was once committed to a state mental hospital for sexually assaulting two patients when he was a chiropractor.

Famalaro’s former neighbors in Lake Forest describe him as amiable and charming, waving regularly at them as he drove by. But when he moved out, he left behind an angry landlord concerned about property damage and a list of dissatisfied customers who had hired him to paint their homes or make repairs.

According to acquaintances, friends and law enforcement officials interviewed Monday, Famalaro’s life, both as a child and as an adult, is filled with contradictions that may or may not help explain his alleged involvement in the murder of Denise A. Huber.

“The mystery to be solved now is: Who is Famalaro?” said Costa Mesa Police Lt. Ron Smith, who is investigating Huber’s death. “Denise was the mystery for three years. But he’s the mystery now. He had the body frozen and kept moving it around. Bizarre.”

Famalaro, 37, is the prime suspect in the slaying of Huber, a young Newport Beach women whose disappearance three years ago sparked a frustrating nationwide search that finally ended last week with the grim discovery of her body in Arizona.

Yavapai County sheriff’s deputies found Huber’s preserved body on Wednesday inside a deep freezer hidden in a Ryder truck parked at Famalaro’s home in Dewey, Ariz. She was tucked in the fetal position and covered with plastic garbage bags. An electrical extension cord, they said, ran from a deep freezer in the 25-foot vehicle to the house.

Huber’s body had apparently been frozen for as long as three years and moved from a storage yard in San Clemente to Arizona inside the Ryder truck. Crime experts say such behavior is consistent with murderers who like to keep mementos or the bodies of their victims as a trophy of their acts.

Investigators in Arizona are only beginning to piece together the life of the man accused of murdering Huber, finding themselves confronted with a puzzle seemingly as complex as Huber’s disappearance.

Sources say Famalaro was brought up on North Victoria Street in Santa Ana, an upper-middle-class area where his family moved in 1956 from Long Island, N.Y. The Famalaros were Roman Catholic, and John, as well as his brother Warren and sister Marion, eventually attended St. Joseph Elementary, a local parochial school.

Acquaintances described his mother Anne as a “righteous, very opinionated” person, who harbored strong dislikes. One neighbor recalled that she once complained to the nuns, when St. Joseph Church, which ran the school, changed the catechism.

In contrast, neighbors said, her husband, Angelo, was exceptionally quiet and mild-mannered.

Except for Anne Famalaro’s involvement in Santa Ana city politics, family members generally kept to themselves, and the Famalaro children were rarely allowed to play with other kids in the neighborhood.

“Standoffish,” was the word people used to describe them.

“Maybe it was because they were new on the block,” said Brodie Schmidt. “I don’t remember them being involved in sports or school cliques or anything like that.”

The neighbors said they were also struck by the Famalaros’ decision to paint their stone and wood home pumpkin orange, which made it an eyesore on a block filled with custom homes and wide lawns.

While in Santa Ana, Anne Famalaro championed conservative causes, including the “fundamental schools” movement in the city. She ran unsuccessfully for City Council in 1981, and belonged to several groups including the now-defunct Republican Women’s Club of Santa Ana, a Santa Ana beautification committee, and the Freedoms Foundation of Valley Forge, a nonpartisan group that promotes the nation’s heritage through educational programs.

“She’s a very wonderful woman. . . . She did a lot of good community work,” said Beverly Schick, who knew Anne Famalaro.

In 1980, tragedy struck the family when the eldest child, Warren J. Famalaro, an Orange County chiropractor, was convicted of sexually assaulting two of his patients, a 10-year-old boy and a 16-year-old girl.

He was committed to Patton State Mental Hospital for 8 years, 8 months, and lost his chiropractor’s license. He was transferred to an outpatient treatment facility in 1983.

Another neighbor, who requested anonymity, said Anne Famalaro sometimes stopped to talk with him when he was outside gardening in his front yard. He said that after her elder son was accused of child molesting, “she was devastated.”

John Famalaro’s upbringing may have been strict and sheltered, but probation reports from his brother’s criminal case indicated that the Famalaro children did not have an unhappy childhood.

If the treatment his brother received is any indication, John did not want for much as a youngster. Warren was given swimming, speech, karate, piano and reading lessons and was provided a tutor “so he could excel at school and in private life,” according to a pre-sentence investigation in court files.

In a letter submitted before Warren’s sentencing, his parents expressed pride in their son’s accomplishments, described him as dedicated to his profession and said they had never observed any evidence of instability.

“Parents can detect clues to the tendencies and behavior patterns of their children and we go on record to say that our son, Warren, had none that should have led him to be in the position he finds himself,” Anne and Angelo Famalaro wrote of their son.

But the sentencing report also included a statement from Mary Willhoite, a former girlfriend of Warren Famalaro’s, who said she felt his “attitude toward life was that people wanted to be taken and that women were generally stupid.”

Willhoite said that Warren’s mother Anne had tried to force the couple apart during their time together. She told authorities that the mother once threatened to kill her, according to court records.

Members of the Famalaro family, who now live in Arizona, refused to comment Monday.

After attending Willard Junior High School in Santa Ana and high school, John Famalaro went to college but never graduated. Afterward, Costa Mesa police said he applied to became a law enforcement officer with the Irvine Police Department and sheriff’s departments in Los Angeles and Orange counties but was never accepted.

He earned his living as a house painter and handyman, running his businesses from a home he rented until 1991 in the 22000 block of Perth Way in Lake Forest. His businesses were known as The Maintenance Doctor and Masterpiece Painting and Remodeling, but officials for the state contractors licensing board said they could find no license issued to Famalaro or his companies.

Michele Mary Levonius, who lives in the 22000 block of Perth Way in Lake Forest, said John Famalaro rented a neighboring home for about a year before moving out one evening.

“He left in the middle of the night, taking with him fixtures, wiring, faucets, cabinets--anything that could help his independent handy-man and painting business,” Levonius said. “He didn’t take furniture--just stuff he could use in his work.”

Orange County sheriff’s deputies said they responded to a call from Anna Sabina, the owner of the property in 1991, after she accused Famalaro of allegedly damaging the property in an amount that “far exceeded his rental deposit.”

But the vaguely worded complaint mentioned “nothing about anything being stolen,” said Lt. Dan Martini, the department’s spokesman, who noted that deputies dismissed the claim as a civil, not a criminal, matter and recommended that Sabina pursue the matter in court. Sabina could not be reached for comment Monday.

Levonius said Famalaro performed odd jobs for residents throughout the subdivision of quaint suburban homes, most of which are trim, attractive, Cape Cod-style houses.

“He was really very personable,” said Pat Darvas, who moved to Perth Way in 1986. “He always waved. I saw him every day of my life during the year he lived here. He was always friendly. I did a lot of my own painting and trimming around the house, and he’d often say, ‘Hey, nice job.’ ”

About 1 1/2 years ago, Famalaro moved to Arizona, purportedly to help care for his parents, especially his father, who police said suffers from Parkinson’s disease. They live a few houses from each other in Dewey, about 15 miles east of Prescott.

Neighbors there said he was secretive and took pains to avoid them. Even his own mother, who lives across the street, said she knew very little about her son’s adult life.

“I really can’t tell you much about him.” Anne Famalaro told The Times on Sunday. “I think he is a good boy. I don’t know what to make of all this.”

Famalaro continued working as a painter and handyman until Arizona authorities revoked his contractor’s license in May following a series of complaints from customers about shoddy work dating back to June, 1993. In fact, it was a disgruntled customer, suspicious about the Ryder truck parked in Famalaro’s driveway, who tipped off Phoenix police and triggered the discovery of Huber’s frozen body.

Four customers whose damages totaled $11,290 reported to the Arizona Registrar of Contractors that Famalaro’s company, Masterpiece Painting and Decorating, left jobs unfinished or performed tasks poorly and then refused to fix the problems.

His license was canceled after he refused to respond to a complaint filed in December 1993 by Dorothy Scott of Camp Verde, who said he wouldn’t repair her stucco as promised. Shortly after losing his Arizona license, Famalaro started work as a part-time real estate salesman.

At his home in Dewey, Famalaro lived like a pack rat, saving nearly everything from receipts to magazines. Though the house was in disarray, the periodicals were neatly stacked and his books were organized by subject.

Famalaro’s neighbors described him as a night owl, who often worked into the early hours of the morning. The late-night work became such a nuisance, they said they had considered filing a lawsuit against him, but never pursued it.

“Sometimes you’d talk to him and think this must be the nicest guy in the world,” said Everett Martin, who lives two doors away from Famalaro’s Arizona home.

But even his own brother conceded that there was a darker side to John Famalaro. A few months ago, when a Ryder franchise owner was trying to track down his missing truck, Warren Famalaro, the convicted felon, said his brother was “the black sheep of the family.”

Times staff writers Michael Granberry, Gebe Martinez, Jeff Brazil, and Doreen Carvajal contributed to this story.