What Ever Happened To . . . Davey Hansen?

Davey Hansen was raised by devout Lutheran parents who spent hour upon hour schooling their children in upright Christian values. Davey, along with his faithful dog Goliath, spent many a weekend cleaning up neighborhood parks, working with the elderly, and raising money for the underprivileged.

On the rare occasion that Davey misbehaved, like the time he disobeyed his mother and went ice skating on the lake, his parents sat him down, talked nicely to him (with only a moderate-to-high amount of guilt-tripping), and reminded him that he should always do God's work and follow His word.

Being raised in such a controlled family structure, Davey's high school years went pretty much like you'd expect.

He snapped like a wooden stool at a Jenny Craig meeting.

During his childhood, Davey and his friends formed a "no girls allowed" club called "The Jickets." Although they seemed harmless at the time, when they were sixteen or so, this "club" evolved into what could be more accurately described as a "gang." In fact, in the aftermath of what would later be known as "The Incident," Officer Bob determined that the seemingly non-sensical word "Jickets" was actually an acronym for "Juveniles Infiltrating the Christian Kingdom with the Eternal Teachings of Satan."

This explained a lot.

On the morning of April 13, 1977, the Jickets, armed with assault rifles, pipe bombs, and grenades, descended upon Clokey High School in Savannah, Georgia. Despite the warnings of the dog Goliath, who was overheard saying, "I don't know, Davey," Hansen and his gang stormed the school and opened fire on the students and faculty.

When the smoke cleared, 28 students and 14 staff members were dead.

Davey and Jimmy decide who's going to run the Jickets.

As agreed upon prior to their assault, the Jickets returned to their clubhouse, drank Jack Daniels' until they puked, and then engaged in a game of Russian Roulette. Davey Hansen survived, but Jonathan, Teddy, Jimmy, and Mickey all blew their own heads off.

When Davey returned home that evening, his parents John and Elaine were watching the evening news, aghast at what had happened at the high school. When their drunken and disheveled son stumbled through the door, John clicked off the TV.

"Davey. Is there something you'd like to talk about?" he asked.

"Piss off, old man."

"David Hansen!" scolded Elaine. "You are not to talk to your father that way!"

"Whatever," he mumbled, lighting a Marlboro.

"Davey," said John, "we saw what happened at school today. Is something bothering you?"

The Hansen Family in happier times.

"Ya think? Jesus Christ, Dad, you haven't noticed that I've been rebelling against you for the past six years? I'm tired of all the holier-than-Davey bullshit going on around here. I wanted to make a statement, show that the Jickets aren't just a bunch of choirboys.  Looks like we did pretty good, huh?"

"First of all, your mother and I would thank you to not take the Lord's name in vain. And Davey, killing innocent people is not the way to prove yourself. It's not your place to pass judgment upon others, only God can do that."

"Then why have you been judging me my whole damn life? Answer THAT!"

Silence hung in the room like smoke in a seedy jazz club.

"Where are the rest of your Jickets now, Davey?"

"Their brains are splattered all over the clubhouse." Davey put out his cigarette on the sole of his Doc Martens.

"Well, you be sure to clean that up in the morning," said Elaine.  "Remember, cleanliness is next to Godliness, and doing chores is a way that we show our family that we love them."

"Mom, do us all a favor.  Get a friggin' clue."

Later that evening, Officer Bob and Officer Dan stopped by the Hansen residence. Despite John's assurance that his son had Learned a Valuable Lesson, the officers arrested Davey and booked him into the Dick Beals Juvenile Detention Center. On his eighteenth birthday, he was transferred to the Fulton County Prison where he remains to this day.

On the fifth anniversary of the massacre, ABC's Nightline aired a documentary entitled "Jickets: The Tragedy at Clokey High School," recounting the events of that day in 1977.

In a live interview from prison, Davey Hansen said, "I got tired of my whole life being a parable. Every good deed, every mistake, I couldn't do anything without my father tying it into some archaic Bible lesson. I thought that if I did something dramatic, Dad might finally see me for who I am, enter the real world for a change. Didn't work, though. After I blew away my classmates and teachers, he immediately went all Book-of-Job on my ass, like it was suddenly all about him. Screw it. The Jickets had purpose. We had a mission, and we accomplished it."

John Hansen moved on quickly after the incarceration of his son.

Well, Davey's going to burn in Hell now, that's for sure. He made his choices. Thank God for our daughter Sally. She's away at college, studying to be a Pastor. We're so proud of her."

Sally Hansen could not be reached for comment. A call to her dormitory at the University of Florida was answered by her roommate, who chose to remain anonymous. When the Nightline reporter asked to speak with Sally, her roommate replied, "Oh, Sally's not here right now. She's spending the weekend at the Alpha Gamma Mu house. She's always at one party or another. That girl's out of control. She's pretty popular with the frat boys, though."

Goliath declined to be interviewed. His attorney released a short statement from the mutt, which read as follows:

"Oh, Davey."


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