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Murder in the Stacks primarily holds interest for its setting in State College, PA. It documents the supposedly "unsolved" murder of 22 year old student Betsy Aarsdma that occurred in late November 1969. The author conducted painstaking research on the victim's short life, and the author pinpoints a suspect. Following the accusation, the author spends two-thirds of the book documenting how the suspect is most definitely the killer. And not also was he the killer, he was a really bad person, and most definitely "a creep," as Betsy mentioned once during a letter home to her family. She and he lived in the same dorm; they maybe went out to lunch together a couple times. She ditched him because he was a creep. A few months later, she was dead.
The Aardsma murder case file was passed from desk to desk throughout a few decades, but no extra evidence presented itself, until a handful of people personally interested in the case got together and decided to compile everything possible. But honestly, the only thing they absolutely proved was that, yes, the supposed killer was a creep. After his death--by natural causes--the author was allowed to publish this book and smear the creep's name everywhere without risking a lawsuit.
In conclusion, the book did a lukewarm job of convincing me that the creep was a killer, but the bizarre second conclusion turns out that murder was not the worst thing he did.
The massive irony of this book was that poor Betsy enrolled in Penn State to get away from her hometown in Michigan, locale to the "Coed Murders" that were going on during those years. She arrived in serene State College, PA, where there hadn't been a student murdered since 1940. But alas, she changed that statistic.
The Aardsma murder case file was passed from desk to desk throughout a few decades, but no extra evidence presented itself, until a handful of people personally interested in the case got together and decided to compile everything possible. But honestly, the only thing they absolutely proved was that, yes, the supposed killer was a creep. After his death--by natural causes--the author was allowed to publish this book and smear the creep's name everywhere without risking a lawsuit.
In conclusion, the book did a lukewarm job of convincing me that the creep was a killer, but the bizarre second conclusion turns out that murder was not the worst thing he did.
The massive irony of this book was that poor Betsy enrolled in Penn State to get away from her hometown in Michigan, locale to the "Coed Murders" that were going on during those years. She arrived in serene State College, PA, where there hadn't been a student murdered since 1940. But alas, she changed that statistic.