Betty and Jack Wilmarth know him as a gentle neighbor, tirelessly caring for a dying companion, baking chocolate cakes for no reason at all, and reaching out to neighborhood kids as a father figure and friend.
Peter van Herwaarden knows him as the man who brought him back from the brink of suicide, an articulate speaker who energized his audience - be it a group of union members or a class of children.
And a Toledo-area father remembers how his son looked at Jerry Gonzales as a role model, someone who tutored the boy in reading, paid the boy for odd jobs, and taught him construction skills and life lessons.
But on Oct. 12, what friends had seen as compassion and kindness from the 46-year-old man known as "Speedy" suddenly appeared as something more insidious: a methodical grooming of victims by an HIV-positive child molester, according to Toledo police.
All said they were shocked to learn Mr. Gonzales had a prior misdemeanor conviction for molesting a child in Monroe County, Mich., in 1990.
Offering gifts, attention, and a place to hang out after school, Mr. Gonzales' actions were like those of many pedophiles: breaking down their victims' defenses, according to investigators who have spent years investigating sex crimes against children.
In this case, police later identified some of the victims as troubled youths who'd already built significant rap sheets for petty crimes. Some lived with their parents only part time. Several had trouble in school.
"It's sad to say that the perpetrators often are treating children better than the parents do," said lead investigator Regina Lester. "I'm not saying that's what was happening here, but Gonzales was giving these kids something all kids crave: attention."
Armed with a search warrant, investigators seized from Mr. Gonzales' modest Daniels Street home dozens of explicit home-made videotapes they say show Mr. Gonzales in sex acts with young males ranging from 11 to 19 years old.
Though it appears that none of the acts was forced, four of those involved are under 18 years old, Ohio's legal age of consent. What's worse: Mr. Gonzales is HIV positive.
"These poor kids were perpetrated by a guy who knows he is ill, and this is a case possibly of murder if, God forbid, these kids get AIDS," said Toledo police Sgt. George Kral, who heads the department's personal assault unit, which investigates sex crimes.
Moreover, police said several of the alleged victims were sexually active elsewhere in the community.
"We'll be seeing the effects of this for years to come," said Sergeant Kral, whose office is a mix of pictures of his teenage twin sons as well as books, reports, and newspaper clippings of sex offenders.
"I'm not an alarmist, but I can truly say we have no idea how many people might be impacted by this," said the sergeant, who ranks this case as among the worst he's investigated in his 4 1/2 years in charge of the unit.
Mr. Gonzales declined repeated requests for an interview for this story.
During a court hearing last month, a disheveled Mr. Gonzales shook his head angrily as Lucas County Common Pleas Court Judge William Skow ticked off nearly a dozen charges against him, including rape, felonious assault, and pandering in sexually oriented materials involving minors.
The image broadcast on the TV news is shocking for the Wilmarths, Mr. Gonzales' longtime neighbors and close friends.
Mrs. Wilmarth remembers recovering from surgery in a hospital bed several months ago. Mr. Wilmarth was at her side.
Mr. Gonzales appeared, too - a smile behind a spray of pretty spring flowers.
"I thought you could use these," he said with a grin.
Sitting at her kitchen window recently, Mrs. Wilmarth clasped her hands in front of her face, glancing through the alley where she used to see Mr. Gonzales working in his yard or talking with neighbors.
"The Speedy I know is gentle and kind and caring," she said. "The man we see on TV now? A monster."
Nudged by a chill autumn wind, dried leaves offered the only sound recently as a Toledo-area laborer leaned against his car, pressed his fingertips into his temples, and once again pondered the unfathomable.
How could he not have known?
He shook his head, recalling a day summers ago when Mr. Gonzales, a seemingly friendly man, had called out to his son for the first time: Did the boy like to skateboard?
Minutes later, Mr. Gonzales had disappeared into his house, emerging again with a brand new board.
A friendship was kindled, and the father was grateful because he'd seen some of the trouble caused by other youths. Mr. Gonzales paid his son to do odd jobs and he tutored the boy, who struggled in school, with homework.
"Speedy was teaching him responsibility, hard work - all the things you try to teach kids," the father said.
Nagging concerns seemed silly at the time. He had even accompanied Mr. Gonzales, his son, and other boys on outings. Just days before Mr. Gonzales was arrested, the three of them were at a car race , he said.
But last week, police called him at work. It was urgent, the investigator said. By the time he confronted his son that evening, he'd asked himself countless times: Why hadn't he'd noticed any signs?
"But what? That's the thing," he said. "I just don't know."
Speedy, he said, "was an everyday type of person, someone you got along well with."
Those who investigate sex crimes against children say the allegations against Mr. Gonzales mirror those of other pedophiles.
In his office, Sergeant Kral pulls out a three-ring binder labeled "Child Molesters: A Behavioral Analysis." The pages of the FBI report are dog-eared and striped with Sergeant Kral's orange highlighter. He finds the page quickly: "A true pedophile knows the 'in' video games, toys, television shows, movies, music, computers, and Internet sites.
"He is skilled," the passage continues, "at recognizing then temporarily filling the emotional and physical needs of children."
"The guys are very adept at identifying what's missing from these kids' lives," the sergeant adds. "It may be as innocuous as letting them drink pop at first."
While parents worry about strangers attacking their children, they easily can be betrayed by those who know their children so well, said Detective Lester, who also is handling a more recent case in which a convicted sex offender is accused of kidnapping two 12-year-old girls from the Miracle Mile shopping center and assaulting them.
"Everyone wants to think of the molester as that shady, beady-eyed guy with glasses - the stereotype," she said. "Guess what? Look around you."
Once befriended, the seemingly harmless offerings to the victims become progressively more lurid: video games at first perhaps, then cigarettes or alcohol, drugs, and pornographic movies, say those who investigate such abuse.
Dean Sparks knows that all too well. As head of the Lucas County Children Services Board, he's seen countless reports of child sexual abuse by trusted family members or friends.
He shudders when he thinks that parents too easily dismiss suspicions they have - or they don't suspect at all. Abuse, he said, seeps into every race and gender and age demographic.
"It can be anybody," he said. "It's the coach who says 'I'll get you that scholarship; we just need to practice more together,' or the scout leader who says 'I'll help you get that rank, but we need to camp out more.' "
It was an "unruly child" report that helped pull together what had appeared to be several unrelated police reports - all leading back to Mr. Gonzales.
On Oct. 16, a Toledo mother had called police on her son and two other boys whom she said had tried to steal a bike. The investigation ultimately led police to another boy who had a sword, and the crew recognized it as an item reported stolen on a burglary report more than a week earlier at Mr. Gonzales' home.
Already, detectives had been involved in a separate investigation, identifying the people in an explicit video that had been leaked to the department - a video ultimately identified as one also taken from a second break-in at Mr. Gonzales' house.
Police quickly linked the two burglary reports, the video, and the boys, and learned that Mr. Gonzales also has a prior criminal conviction.
In 1990, Michigan State Police said Mr. Gonzales offered a 12-year-old boy a ride in his car, and then offered to let him drive. As the youngster sat on Mr. Gonzales' lap in the driver's seat while they traveled along I-75, Mr. Gonzales reportedly tried to fondle the youngster.
Described as a family friend at the time, he was convicted of fourth-degree criminal sexual conduct, a misdemeanor, and was sentenced to five years' probation with the possibility of another year in prison. In all, he spent less than a day in jail on the charge, according to state and local records.
Detective Paul Tetuan, who had questioned the boys allegedly involved in Mr. Gonzales' recent break-ins, is investigating an unrelated pedophile case in which the alleged perpetrator also was a trusted family friend. The suspect bought the parents gifts and spent time with the family, Detective Tetuan said.
"Often the grooming doesn't end with the kids," Detective Tetuan said. "The parents are unknowing victims, too."
Additionally, the victimization in sex crimes often becomes multi-layered as the original victims act out to others.
"There could be other fallout, more victims," said Lori Olender, a Lucas County prosecutor who has specialized in child sexual assault cases for more than seven years and is handling the case against Mr. Gonzales.
In fact, one of the 16-year-old boys who police say appeared in Mr. Gonzales' videos was charged in 2003 with exposing himself to an 8-year-old girl. Originally charged with delinquency in connection with public indecency, he was found delinquent of a lesser charge of disorderly conduct.
"Certain individuals might have characteristics or patterns of behavior inherent in their personalities that might be triggered by molestation," Detective Lester said. "But obviously not everyone who is molested becomes a predator himself. At the same time, not every offender has been molested."
Mr. Gonzales is being held in the Lucas County jail in lieu of a $200,000 bond. It's doubtful he will face further charges even if other victims are identified, police said, because he already faces 70 years in prison on the current allegations if convicted.
At his North Toledo home, Mr. van Herwaarden said he is saddened by the turn of events involving Mr. Gonzales, a man he considered a friend. Both men had worked as speakers with David's House, an AIDS advocacy group, to educate others on the dangers of the disease and unsafe sex.
Mr. Gonzales' work at David's House, in fact, won him a lauded statewide activism award just two years ago. He also volunteered with Planned Parenthood to help provide AIDS education.
Mr. Gonzales had lost a close friend to AIDS. Then, he'd been a friend to Mr. van Herwaarden when Mr. van Herwaarden most needed it - after he intentionally overdosed on pills following the breakdown of his third marriage.
Mr. van Herwaarden sipped his morning coffee, sifting through newspaper headlines about his friend.
"It's so horrendous," he said. "I feel betrayed, I feel sick. Not one of us ever would have guessed this."
Contact Robin Erb at: robinerb@theblade.com or 419-724-6133.
First Published November 7, 2004, 12:34 p.m.
