The Strange Story of Jack Harelson

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Outside Magazine October 2004

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The Killing Bones (cont.)

"One Down, Three to Go"
THE NEXT DAY, two state troopers escorted Lloyd Olds up to Gardner Ridge to fake the hit. They dug the shallow grave, dirtied Olds with leaves and pine needles, and took the Polaroid pictures. Once they had a photo with Olds looking convincingly deceased, the cops helped him out of the grave and escorted him back home, where he agreed to lay low.

Three days later,

Harelson opened the door and found himself surrounded by a SWAT team. The team commander ordered him to lie down on the porch. Harelson just stood there.

Doland stood on Harelson's porch holding the Polaroid photo of Olds. It was eight in the morning. Harelson was sitting down to coffee.

A few miles away, an Oregon State Police SWAT team waited for Doland's call. Weeks earlier, Doland had told the cops that Harelson said if the police ever came to his house again, he'd fill them full of holes. The SWAT team was there to avert that scenario.

The plan was for Doland to get Harelson in Doland's truck, take him to a quiet location, show him the photo, and then step aside as the SWAT team arrested Harelson, away from his house and any guns he might have stashed.

Only problem was, Harelson wouldn't leave.

"Want to take a ride?" Doland asked him.

"Nah," Harelson said. "I gotta stay here."

"I didn't think you did, so I brought this with me," Doland said, handing him the picture of Lloyd Olds.

Harelson laughed. "It's too bad they couldn't have just gutted him and left him in the middle of the street," Doland recalled him saying. "Because the son of a bitch deserves it. But this'll do. One down, three to go."

Harelson pitched the photo in the fire.

Doland still wanted to get him out of the house, but Harelson didn't want to go. Finally Doland punched in Walt Markee's number on his cell phone—"I gotta let the guy know you're happy," he told Harelson.

Markee was waiting anxiously with the SWAT team.

"Hurry up," he told Doland.

Doland finished his coffee and said what would be his final goodbye to Harelson.

A few minutes later Harelson opened the door and found himself surrounded by the SWAT team. The team commander ordered him to lie down on the porch. Harelson just stood there.

"He thought about it for a long time," recalled Markee. "Then he cooperated and got down on the ground."

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