He will be 82 soon, and he looks it. He sounds it. Sixty years behind bars have given Chester Weger scant access to the public and limited chances to tell his story – until now.
The Starved Rock murderer has been filmed and interviewed before, but not as a free man. That changes in a forthcoming documentary that not only includes footage of a post-release Weger but also archival footage of the many players, most of whom are gone now, from the 1960 murders that caught the world’s attention and still ignites hot dispute.
“I want to thank them for everything they done for me,” Weger said from the passenger seat of a car that drove him from prison to a transitional facility. “I appreciate everything that everybody’s done to try to get me out of here.”
His won’t be the last word in the sprawling documentary, which is in post-production but not yet slated for release. Jody McVeigh-Schultz, the director, deferred comment until the project approaches a release date, noting post-production details remain fluid, including a distributor or broadcast network.
Others attached to the project were just as tight-lipped. Although cameras were spotted about Starved Rock Country in recent months, those interviewed disclosed they are subject to nondisclosure agreements and presently barred from detailing what they discussed when the cameras were rolling.
A few segments may yet be added as well. McVeigh-Schultz had requested permission (so far denied) to take cameras in the La Salle County courtroom, where Weger’s lawyers still are trying to win a fresh trip to the crime lab. Andy Hale and Celeste Stack have argued, so far without success, that DNA techniques are sufficiently advanced that perhaps old pieces of evidence will yield new case information.
Whatever the outcome, the documentary will provide not only a case update but also rare glimpses of past case participants, thanks to entrepreneur-photographer David Raccuglia, who lent his own footage to the project. Raccuglia, a La Salle native whose father prosecuted Weger for murder in 1961, had sought out investigators, jurors and Weger himself after being caught up in the case somewhat unwillingly.
“Growing up, I got into many fistfights with people who came up to me and said that my father put an innocent man in jail,” Raccuglia recalled.
The footage Raccuglia compiled includes not only his late father, prosecutor Anthony Raccuglia, but also the lead investigator, the first reporter on the crime scene and the last surviving juror, plus journalists and attorneys who took up the case later. The key figure, of course, is Weger, who was depicted in “30 or 40 hours” of footage culled from four interviews, three of them while he was in prison, and through interviews of Weger’s family.
“Chester’s family was very, very nice,” Raccuglia said. “It wasn’t easy. It took a bit of convincing to show them I was going to make an honest film. I don’t know that ‘trust’ is the right word, but they came around.”
Raccuglia emphasized that he took an open-minded approach to the case as he started filming around 2003, noting he had questioned (and at times sparred with) his father over facts of the case. Raccuglia recalled that his father could get animated when asked about conspiracies, for which Anthony had little stomach, but otherwise was willing to discuss the case, answer questions and defend his legal conclusions.
“My dad was my hero,” Raccuglia said. “He looked at this case from every angle, reached a conclusion, took it to the jury and got a verdict that was based on the law and the facts. I undertook this project not because I think my father was wrong but because there was room for other points of view, whether I agree with them or not.
“And it’s almost impossible to believe that a man, one of your own, could bludgeon three women to death – almost to the point of being decapitated. It’s really mind-boggling to accept that, and that had a lot of people believing his innocence.”