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Downtown Canton, Ohio (David
Lohr) |
Thomas Lee Dillon was born in Canton, Ohio, on July 9, 1950.
His father succumbed to Hodgkin’s disease and died when Dillon was
just 15 months old. Psychologist Jeffrey Smalldon said that
Dillon viewed his mother as a cold woman who never praised or punished
him. "Dillon … has no memories of his mother ever hugging
him, kissing him or telling him she loved him," he said.
Classmates from Glenwood High School in Plain Township remembered
Dillon as extremely intelligent but a loner. His 1968 senior yearbook
lists no extracurricular activities.
"Tom was removed from the group," said classmate Ronald
Skelton. "He was a person who marched to the beat of a different
drummer, separated from the mainstream."
Another classmate, Thomas Breit, said that Dillon was quiet,
especially in a group. "I always liked him," Breit said.
"I got a kick out of him. He made me laugh."
Dillon loved to hunt. He simply liked to kill and enjoyed
watching animals suffer. As a teenager, Dillon began keeping
count of the animals he killed on a calendar in the bedroom of his
home on 37th Street Northwest in Canton. He also kept a separate
calendar listing all of the girls he'd had sex with.
Following high school, Dillon attended Kent State University's
Stark campus and later Ohio State University.
"In the summer months, we would all hang out at Willow Springs
swimming pool on 55th Street," said a man who remembers Dillon.
"I just ran around with him a couple years. We all drank
together. I never saw him shoot a gun. But I heard other people
talking about him ─ 'Ah, crazy Dillon went out drinking
and he was shooting a pistol out the window or he shot the windows out
of a school.' I heard things like that a couple times."
Dillon graduated from Ohio State in 1972 and went to work as a
draftsman for the Canton Water Department. In 1978, he married
Catherine Elsass, a nurse from Alliance, Ohio.
By the early 1980s, Dillon began boasting to friends that the count
on his death calendar had reached 500. He had also attended Ohio
Peace Officers Training in Lawrence Township in Stark County, where he
graduated with expert marksmanship.
In the mid-1980s, several of Dillon’s neighbors complained to
police because Dillon was killing their dogs.
"Dillon was a bad hunter," said a man who hunted with
Dillon for several years. "He would shoot at farmers’
cats after getting permission to hunt on their land. He just didn't
care. He once boasted of killing a deer caught in high water
while crossing a river. He brought the deer home without field
dressing it. He gutted the carcass in his yard and made a mess
of it," the hunter said. “Dillon didn't seem to
understand the concept of friendship. He never offered to do a
favor or asked for one. It was always a trade," he said.
"I'll do this, if you do that … he never talked about women, he
never mentioned his wife and love in the same sentence," he said.
“He was always changing guns and carried weapons even when he rode a
bike." The hunter estimated that Dillon fired approximately 1,000
rounds a year in target practice. Dillon shot so often that he
had permanently damaged his hearing. “He seemed to get a
physical thrill out of killing,” the hunter said. “He once used a
knife to finish off a wounded groundhog. He was shaking. He was
in a frenzy, wild-eyed."
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