Last Day on Earth: A Portrait of the NIU School Shooter

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IN THE FALL OF 2004, the same fall he meets Mark, Steve also has a new girlfriend, “Kim.” An art student he describes as “eccentric,” but he likes her. It’s been a long time since he’s had anyone. So now he’s doing better socially.

He’s sick from all the anxiety, though. “I had extended conversations with him regarding him and Kim,” Mark says. “When they were together, I provided him with quite a bit of advice. He always says how stupid he was for this or that. He had very low confidence with relationships. And at the beginning he was very to himself, right? So, it was hard to get him to open up, but once you became friends with him, he didn’t hold his cards as close — and that’s one thing he complained about with me, that I always held my cards close.”

Steve gets physically sick from the anxiety. Abdominal pain, nausea, diarrhea. His acne gets worse, too. His body betraying him yet again. He goes to the doctor on April 18, 2005, and the doctor tries again to get him to see a psychiatrist, for follow-up on his bipolar disorder, but Steve knows not to go in that direction.

Senior year, he aces his statistics course with Charles Cappel, toughest course out there, ends up number 3 out of 90. Doesn’t mention the stats course he took at Harper College. He’s a piece of shit anyway. He knows this. They may be fooled, but he’s not fooled. Good grades aren’t going to change anything.

He tries to hide all his stomach problems from Kim, his loose stool, his bulimia. Goes swimming in the ocean in Florida at the end of the summer, and the problems get worse. So he sees a doctor and is really nervous. Someday they’re going to catch up to him. They’re going to find out about his history, they’re going to put him on meds again. It’s only a matter of time.

The doctor tells him the tests are fine and his abdominal conditions are likely from stress or anxiety. Tries to talk about this, but Steve is out of there. It’s his senior year. He’s not going to blow it now.

He wants to apply for grad school at the University of Illinois down in Champaign, but Kim wants him to stick around. They’re going to live happily ever after. So fine. It’s not as good a program here, but he applies to NIU for grad school, gets Thomas and Cappel and others to write him recommendations. Easy enough. He’s a teaching assistant for Cappel, one of only two undergrads invited to do this.

And this is what he loves, finally. This is where he’s not a fake, when he’s helping students in the sociology lab. He’s good at it. Everything calms down, all the anxiety, all the stress, all the checking, the paranoia, all of it. He’s sitting in his chair and his breathing is regular, his body feels okay, his head is clear. Carefully groomed, long-sleeved shirt, normal. No tattoos showing, no trench coat. No slurred speech from meds. They come to him stressed out, but he’s able to show them how to work the problems, able to calm them. He doesn’t feel like an instructor. He feels like a healer. He spends as much time as they need, encourages them, inspires several of them, even, to apply for grad school. He affects their lives in a positive way, and they love him for it. All these cute young women, smiling at him, grateful.

“He is extremely patient and calm when tutoring students who are stressed out about statistics and the high standards imposed on them,” writes Cappel. “He has the highest ethical and academic standards, he thinks abstractly and analytically, and relates at an emotional and empathetic level with others.”

Another professor, Kristen Myers, is struck not only by Steve’s work ethic but also his sensitivity. She reprimands Steve one day in class for talking, and he comes to her office afterward very apologetic and actually cries. “He was such a sweet, sensitive man. There isn’t much room for men like that.” She says he was good-natured, tenacious, and very together. “Steve wanted to impress me with his skills as a student. It meant so much to him that I was struck by his rare sincerity. This is how most of us at NIU saw him.”

Steve tutors at Jim’s office, too. Still worried he might be overstepping, but the work calms him.

His relationship with Kim does not calm him. Screaming matches at the end of the semester that can be heard by the entire floor. He rents an apartment in January 2006, out of the dorms. He’s still with Kim, but getting a little distance, and he keeps in touch with Mark through online shooter games at night and emails about politics.

Things are not going to work with Kim. They break up February 27, 2006, the same day Jim Thomas recommends Steve for the Deans’ Award. Steve and Kim begin a long battle over a plane ticket her family paid for him, and this ends in her filing a police report, worried he might damage her property or her family’s property. She knows he’s bipolar and has a juvenile record.

Steve wants to forget about Kim, though, because he’s met someone new, Jessica Baty. “Even before Steven and I started dating, I felt drawn to him. The first time I remember seeing him was at Northern Illinois University in an undergraduate criminology course. Steven was tall, smart, and he always wore long sleeves. He would make me so frustrated in class because every time that I wanted to say something, Steven would always say it first. During lectures, I remember sitting across the room from him and just wondering about him. I wondered why he was so smart and why he said everything first. I wondered why he always wore long sleeves, even in the summer. When I asked someone about it, they didn’t know either.

“Our interactions were limited to ACA meetings, group emails, and classes. It wasn’t until we were seniors that Steven and I were brought together. He was a tutor in one of my sociology classes. One random day after class, I was walking to my next class and there was Steven, walking toward me, deep in conversation with a classmate. He was so involved in his conversation that he didn’t notice that he was nudging me into a garbage can. After I stumbled, he paused and apologized to me and then he kept walking. I, however, felt as though I had been hit by a truck. It took me a minute to regain my composure, but by the time I thought of something to say, he was gone. That brief encounter shook me to my core.

“Later on that evening, I created an email account and sent Steven an anonymous email, asking him what a girl had to do to get his attention. Steven thought it was a joke and named off some girls that might play such a joke on him. After some playful banter, we just began chatting. He wanted to know who I was and even though I really wanted to tell him, I told him that I was too embarrassed now to reveal my identity.

“The next morning, Steven emailed me and told me that he had a girlfriend. Steven said that he didn’t mean to be disingenuous, but he was so intrigued. Naturally, I was disheartened, but our conversations were so great and we had so much in common, that I emailed him back. We shared our interests, academic and beyond. It was too bad that he had a girlfriend because we seemed perfect for each other. I mean, there were few people who didn’t find my interest in crime and criminals abnormal.

“I dropped minor hints as to my identity because he still wanted to know who he was talking to, but I was even more embarrassed now that I knew about his girlfriend. However, he mentioned that he was not happy in his relationship and wanted to get out of it and I told him that I could empathize with how he felt. There was an upcoming ACA potluck and I asked him if he would be attending. He tried to convince me to come, but I declined because I wasn’t ready for him to know who I was. After the potluck, Steven emailed me and made sure that he told me that he went alone, hoping that I would be there.

“Not long after, Steven told me that he had ended his relationship and it was hard, but he felt better and knew it was for the best. Steven and I shared some more information about ourselves, what we wanted to do after graduation, how classes were going. Steven knew that I was in one of the classes he tutored and after mentioning something about a class we were both taking, Steven was able to figure out who I was. He said that he was happy to be able to put a face to the emails. I was worried that things would become awkward and strange in class.

“The next morning in class, I raised my hand for help and Steven came over to help me. I thought that I was going to die of embarrassment because he was all business. He tapped his pen on the table next to me and as we were talking, he lost control of the pen and flung it at me. Both red-faced, we laughed and I told him that he didn’t have to throw things at me. Steven gave me his great smile and he apologized. After class, Steven sent me an email and told me that my nails looked nice (I had mentioned in an email the day before that I was painting my nails) and he liked my sweater. I didn’t think he could get any greater; he paid attention to the little things.

“We didn’t have a first date until a few weeks after our emails began. Being so studious, Steven’s big plans for spring break were to write all the papers that were due at the end of the semester. I could not believe that he was going to sit in his dorm room, alone, and write papers that weren’t due for two months.

“Over spring break, we graduated to telephone calls. Talking with Steven was so natural and we never ran out of things to say. One time we were on the phone, watching something on television, and my mom asked me if I was talking to Steven. She said that she could tell who was on the other end of the phone because of the big smile on my face.”

Their first date is to a local DeKalb bar for a drink. “It was raining and I offered to pick him up at his dorm. Steven insisted that he would meet me there, but I was more stubborn and insistent than he was. Later, he would tell me that he was embarrassed that he didn’t have a car and he didn’t want me to know he had ridden his bike. We had a few drinks and shared our love for 80s hair-band music. Steven wore the worst shirt ever and he told me that he liked how my pink socks matched my sweater. We talked about our plans after graduation and the countdown to graduation. Steven told me how pretty I was and he made me laugh. After a few drinks, we walked to a 24-hour diner. We laughed as we stumbled down the street to the restaurant. It was so easy to talk to him and there was no tension or pretending to be someone else. That is one of my favorite things about Steven, he was always real, good or bad.”

Steve wraps his arms around her, and it’s like the rest of the world doesn’t matter anymore. Their own little island.

They graduate together in May 2006 and make plans to attend NIU for graduate school in the fall. And then the impossible happens — more impossible than being off meds for five years straight. More impossible than finding an amazing girlfriend.

Steve wins the Deans’ Award. This is the highest honor given to any undergraduate in the college.

“I only got it because of everything Jim has done and said for me,” he tells Jessica, but she can tell he’s proud. This is the highest achievement of his life, after all the struggle and hard work. It’s unbelievable, how a life can shift from one point to another, from slitting his wrists at the end of high school, graduating into Mary Hill Home, to this moment now, graduating summa cum laude, winning the Deans’ Award, moving on to grad school with Jessica.