Life term in 1977 killing

WAHOO, Neb. — Jeffrey Glazebrook will remain in prison residency for the rest of his life after being convicted of a crime that took place 32 years ago in Ashland.

Glazebrook was sentenced to life in prison by Judge Mary Gilbride Tuesday morning in Saunders County District Court.

He was convicted of first degree murder in the 1977 death of Saidee “May” McReynolds by a jury in September. The 97-year-old woman was sexually assaulted in her Ashland home and died two weeks later from her injuries.

Glazebrook already was in prison, serving a 16-to-38-year sentence for burglary and first-degree sexual assault.

Before the sentencing, Saunders County Attorney Scott Tingelhoff asked the judge to give Glazebrook a life sentence so the McReynolds family and the Ashland community could have closure.

“We're looking at the opportunity to finally put to rest — 32 years almost to the day — the death of Saidee “May” McReynolds,” said Tingelhoff, who prosecuted the case with Deputy Attorney General Doug Warner.

Glazebrook, sporting a freshly shaved head and wearing prison khakis, did not comment to the court during the sentencing.

After the sentencing, Glazebrook's sister, Linda Hiatt said her brother is looking forward to an appeal by his attorney, Jerry Soucie of the Nebraska Commission of Public Advocacy.

“It's not to say he's confident he'll win (the appeal), but he has hopes,” she said.

Soucie said he plans to appeal “to clarify some of these issues” brought out during the trial.

“This is a case in which we expected to appeal,” Soucie said shortly after the sentencing.

Tingelhoff said every case has the possibility of appeal, but he feels a sense of closure now that the sentencing has been handed down.

“It's wonderful for the family,” he said. “They've lived with this over their heads for 32 years now. Finally they have answers.”

Glazebrook was a 17-year-old student at Ashland-Greenwood High School and a neighbor of McReynolds in 1977.

On the night of Nov. 6, 1977, snow covered Ashland's streets as the community slept. McReynolds had entertained earlier that evening. The widow went to bed around 9:30 p.m. Hours later, she heard pounding on her front door. She opened it.

The 17-year-old Glazebrook forced his way inside, violently sexually assaulted the petite former schoolteacher and left her bleeding on the floor.

She was found the next day by a daughter. Two weeks later, she was dead from shock and severe hemorrhaging.

McReynold's grandson Cloyd Boyston and his wife, Arla, of Wahoo attended the sentencing. They said they are pleased with the outcome.

“The only thing I would've added to it would be with no chance of parole,” Arla Boyston said.

The death penalty was not an option in this case, according to the judge. Gilbride said the penalty scheme that was in existence in 1977 had to be used to govern this case and that did not include the death penalty.

Shortly after the sentencing, Glazebrook's sister, Linda Hiatt, spoke about her brother's life sentence.

“I expected this, but it's hard to hear,” she said.

Hiatt said her brother has maintained his innocence in this crime for 32 years.

The Ashland woman said she has visited her brother every few weeks for the past several years, even taking her daughter and son along to see their uncle in prison.

“I've been his support system throughout,” she said.

She admits her brother has done some bad things. But in those cases, including the hammer attack of Evelyn Stootsberry in her Ashland home in 1978 and the 1991 sexual assault on the mother of his girlfriend in Lincoln, Glazebrook admitted his guilt.

Not this time.

Because of that, Hiatt continues to maintain her brother's innocence in the McReynolds case.

“If I believed he was guilty of this, I wouldn't have moved back (to Ashland),” she said.

Hiatt said Glazebrook is angry, saddened and disappointed about the conviction and sentence.

Hiatt was only 10 when the McReynolds murder occurred. She remembers the incident, and the stigma that followed her family after that. Still she returned years later to Ashland.

“I tell people not to judge me by my relatives,” she said. “He is my brother, but I'm a different ballgame.”