Norman D. Resol was born on September 8, 1989, to David and Linda Resol of Harrisburg, Pennsylvania. Norm's father, David, was a laid-off steelworker collecting unemployment. His mother, Linda, worked nights as a topless dancer.
The family moved frequently, staying in one place only until the bill collectors turned ugly. These moves took their toll on Norm's education, and he fell behind in basic skills. With no friends, neighbors, or family to watch Norm, Linda frequently took him to work with her.
The family's situation improved when David landed a position loading trucks for a booming defense contractor. The family moved again and purchased their first home—a double-wide trailer.
Norm's middle school years were extremely tough. He showed little interest in schoolwork and defied authority. He was suspended from school so often that he missed class as much as he attended.
He did, however, have an interest in girls, especially those who were physically precocious. When these girls didn't give him what he wanted, he reportedly threatened them. Norm also discovered he could intimidate the other boys with his fists. Even though he was shorter and scrawnier than most boys his age, Norm bullied his way to a "young tough" reputation.
Norm's father was eventually arrested for stealing tools from his defense contractor employer. David reasoned that, as a taxpayer, he paid for those tools, so in a way, he wasn't even stealing. He failed to persuade a judge and jury and was sent to prison. Linda headed south to Mississippi with her son.
Following in his father's footsteps, Norm became a regular in juvenile court on charges of shoplifting, underage drinking, and assault. He spent most of his teen years on probation.
As Linda aged out of strip club work, she turned to "entertaining gentlemen callers," usually while Norm was in their tiny apartment. More than once, one of Linda's clients knocked teenage Norm around just for looking at him "wrong."
Norm graduated from shoplifting to petty theft and burglary, pawning the electronics and jewelry and selling bags of clothing and personal items to flea market dealers. Some of them noticed that Norm provided them with lots of women's shoes and lingerie, but they asked no questions.
Norm's 20s were a string of convictions for minor offenses. Plea bargains, overcrowded prisons, and the comparatively low priority of solving property crimes minimized Norm's jail time.
One week after a stint for passing bad checks, Norm decided to celebrate by bringing a bottle of champagne to a woman who worked at one of his favorite pawnshops. The evening did not go well for Norm, who decided that, after drinking his champagne, the woman didn't have a right to say no.
Norm's court-appointed attorney negotiated a deal with the prosecutor, and Norm pled guilty to sexual battery. He went to a state penitentiary instead of a county jail for the first time. When he was released, he was required to register as a sex offender.
Through a church program that transitioned released inmates back to society, Norm worked part-time as the church's janitor. He supplemented his income by working at a local photography studio, where he first met Barbara Dubois.
Norm became the president of the one-member Barbara Dubois Fan Club and mailed her a $5 bill to help her achieve her goals. Susan Dubois, Barbara's mother, investigated Norm and complained to the photographer about him. Shortly thereafter, Norm lost his job.
The church fired Norm after he was found peeking into the women's restroom through a hole in the wall. Two weeks later, Norm was hired as the night shift custodian at the Yoknapatawpha County Conference Center. He included his prison record on the application but also provided a recommendation from church officials.
At YCCC, Norm's personnel record is clean. He shows up on time, completes his work, and rarely calls in sick. He keeps to himself and has no friends at work. He has been cautioned for dawdling while cleaning up around the pool when women are relaxing in the area. Two female guests complained that Norm was "creepy" but had no specific charges.
Co-workers have gossiped that Norm both drinks and sleeps on duty and often fails to lock closets and other doors. Management is keeping an eye on the situation but has not assigned anyone to check on Norm at night. To date, nothing has been found missing.