Absurd Motive behind Stanley's Stabbing

Portland, Oregon's Northeast Union Avenue has had more than its share of violent crime over the years, and as a result, has developed one of the worst reputations of any area in the city. And rightly so. Known by local residents as "Prostitute Row," citizens are regularly robbed at gun-or-knife point, cars are frequently vandalized and stolen, homes are burglarized on a daily basis, and rapes of young women and girls occur almost nightly. In addition to having a hooker on virtually every corner, Union Avenue is a haven for junkies and drug pushers, many of whom are the prosti­tutes and pimps themselves. It is defi­nitely not the sort of neighborhood one dreams of raising their kids in, although many do because of limited choices, mainly financial, that are available to them.

But the aforementioned are the more harmless crimes that have gone on for years. More recently, however, things have gotten worse. During the past three years, hookers have literally been gunned down in the street in broad daylight, hon­est merchants have been slain in their places of business, and bodies have been found in dumpsters. In 1985, just before Christmas, a harmless bicyclist was knifed in cold blood as he rode toward home to his wife and kids after putting in an eight-hour shift at work.

Stanley Bruce Reed, 34, was a bicycle enthusiast. He rode as often as he could, particularly to and from work. He said that, in addition to just simply enjoying bicycling, it kept him in shape and saved him gas and parking expenses associated with operating a car. He didn't like to spend money foolishly because he didn't make much, and if he could find a way to cut corners, he did so, even if it was an inconvenience to him. He was not a self-indulgent man. Stanley cared too much about his family to think of himself first.

He worked the 3:00-to-11:30 swing shift as a security guard in the parking garage of a downtown Portland bank, occasionally chasing out vandals and making sure that bank customers and employees made it safely to and from their vehicles. In addition to being low-paying, the job was occasionally dangerous. However, in spite of the po­sition's shortcomings, Stanley had kept it for more than a year so he could put food on the table and keep a roof over the family he loved so dearly.

Described as a gentle man by those who knew him, Stanley Reed believed in the family ethic. A regular churchgoer, he was convinced that having a family was the one way he could preserve his immortality on earth. Those who knew him also said he was a devoted man who could do anything for his wife and two lovely children, including working at jobs he felt were not a realization of his full potential.

His dedication didn't stop at home. Although his job was a menial one, Stan­ley's personnel records showed that he hadn't missed a day of work at the bank since he'd been hired. The days prior to his death he had even asked to work some overtime so he could earn extra money to buy presents for his wife and kids. Unfortunately, he didn't get to see his dreams come true because of two men who robbed this decent, honest and hard-working man of his life.

On Thursday, December 5, 1985, at 11:30 p.m., Stanley punched out at his regular time, bade farewell as usual to his co-workers, climbed onto his bicycle and pedaled quietly toward home on a route that took him through one of the seamier sides of northeast Portland, a route he had taken many times before without ever running into problems. It was a cool, crisp evening as Stanley ped­aled along, his breath visible in the win­ter chill. Although it isn't known for certain, testimony from witnesses indi­cated that he didn't immediately notice the car following closely behind him. It is also likely that becoming a victim of violent crime was the farthest thing from his mind.

Stanley had a reputation for being punctual. The bicycle ride from down­town Portland to his home usually took about 30 minutes, so he should have been home by midnight. However, it wasn't until about 12:30 a.m. that family members began to worry about his unu­sual tardiness. Still, after considering that perhaps he'd had to work late, they gave him the benefit of the doubt and waited another hour, even though it wasn't like him not to call and inform his family he would be late. At 1:30 a.m. with still no sign or word from Stanley, a relative called the bank's parking garage to verify that he'd gotten off work and had left for home. When the relative was told that Stanley had left at his usual time, the relative entered a state of "near panic."