Rulo killer freed after 24 years

LINCOLN — By 10 a.m. Wednesday, Timothy Haverkamp was leaving prison and beginning a new life after serving 24 years for his role in the horrific 1985 cult slayings near Rulo, Neb.

Haverkamp, 47, was the last of four co-defendants of cult leader Michael Ryan to be set free. Haverkamp was granted parole with intensive supervision in a 5-0 vote of the Nebraska Board of Parole.

Ryan, 60, remains on death row, convicted of first-degree murder in the death of James Thimm, 25, who was tortured by fellow cult members at the Rulo compound for days before he was killed.

Haverkamp was sentenced to life in prison for second-degree murder for his role in Thimm's death.

During his parole hearing Wednesday, Haverkamp bowed his head and stared at his hands as Karen Schmidt of Manhattan, Kan., described the gruesome details of the deaths of her brother and of 5-year-old Luke Stice. They had fallen out of favor with Ryan and the rest of the cult.

“They were treated as prisoners, they were treated as slaves,” she said. “They were chained, they were starved. They were not adequately clothed.”

“Little Luke” died of head injuries after Ryan shoved him into a bookcase. Schmidt said cult members put him to bed rather than seek help.

She also recounted what happened to Thimm, who was not her biological brother but had been raised from infancy by her parents, Hilda and Carl Schmidt.

Thimm was held in a hog shed and reduced to eating chicken feed. Schmidt said Haverkamp participated as cult members took turns torturing Thimm.

He was beaten, and his fingers were shot off. He was sodomized with a shovel handle, suffering grave injuries. His legs were skinned. His bones were broken. Finally, Ryan killed him by jumping on his chest. After Thimm was dead, Ryan's son Dennis Ryan shot Thimm in the head.

Although the circumstances of her brother's death cannot be forgotten, Schmidt and her cousin, Daneda Heppner of Lincoln, said their family would not stand in the way of Haverkamp's parole.

Heppner quoted from Romans 8:28, a family favorite, which says God works for the good in all things. She said she still believes God's blessing applies to her family — and to Haverkamp.

Both women said their religious faith has helped them endure the aftermath of James Thimm's death. Schmidt said every court decision and every parole hearing renews the hurt and requires the family to forgive all over again.

They said they expect to go through the same emotions when they attend Michael Ryan's execution, if it occurs.

“I loved my brother,” Schmidt said. “Even after 24 years, I still miss him terribly.”

Schmidt's mother, Hilda, now lives in Portland, Ore., and is recuperating from a broken hip. Carl Schmidt is dead.

During the hearing, Haverkamp offered an apology to Thimm's family. He said he has been remorseful for the crime for many years, but prison officials told him he should not try to contact the victim's family members unless they seek him out.

After the hearing, he said he “always” remembers the events at the Rulo compound but can't allow himself to dwell on the past.

Haverkamp, who was 22 at the time of the killings, blamed Michael Ryan's domination over cult members for the events leading to Thimm's death.

“I don't think anybody could have foreseen what happened there,” he said. “Once you're in that environment, it becomes like a psychological trap. You can't get away from that influence.”

During the hearing, Parole Board members noted the extensive mental health counseling that Haverkamp received while in prison, as well as his good behavior and his efforts to improve himself.

Under a long-standing prison work program, Haverkamp spent eight years as a tour guide and staffer at the Governor's Residence. In March, he began working as a welder for a steel fabrication company in Lincoln, work he will continue while on parole.

Haverkamp will live with a couple in a private home in an arrangement set up through his church, which runs a reintegration program for former prison inmates.

Because Haverkamp was given a life sentence, he must spend the rest of his life under parole supervision unless he is granted a pardon.

Parole Board Chairwoman Esther Casmer said she had been reluctant to parole Haverkamp.

“It's just hard to understand how something like this could occur,” she said. “Other than Ryan himself, you're the only one that remains in prison. There were two lives lost. What is a fair price?”

However, it was Casmer who moved to grant Haverkamp parole, citing his hard work while in prison to change his life.

Haverkamp's parents, Al and Janet Haverkamp of Baileyville, Kan., also attended the hearing.

Janet Haverkamp said she was happy her son was getting a second chance. “He knows he has to walk the straight and narrow from now on,” she said.

Schmidt said she is pleased that prison staff, church volunteers and others have been willing to help Haverkamp.

“We have high hopes and high expectations for his life outside the institution,” she said.

Contact the writer:

402-473-9581, leslie.reed@owh.com