Winfield Township woman relieved after husband’s killer dies in prison
Carol Kroll, of Winfield Township, breathed a sigh of relief when she learned earlier this week the man who killed her husband more than two decades ago died in prison.
Kroll’s husband John, 55, was Ronald Taylor’s first victim in a racially motivated killing rampage on March 1, 2000, in Wilkinsburg, Allegheny County. Taylor was convicted of shooting five white men — fatally striking three of them.
Taylor, 63, of Pittsburgh, died of natural causes Tuesday as an inmate of State Correctional Institution Phoenix in Montgomery County, according to Maria Bivens, press secretary for the state Department of Corrections. Taylor was sentenced to death in 2002 and had been on death row ever since.
“This has been with us for 24 years. It’s just unreal what it does to you. None of us will ever be the same,” Kroll said. “It’s something we wake up to every day.”
John Kroll had been hired to fix Taylor’s apartment door, Kroll said.
Taylor, a Black man, had expressed hate in writing toward whites, Asians, Italians, Jews, police and journalists before the killing rampage.
On March 1, 2000, Taylor called John Kroll and another worker “white trash” and “racists” as they were working on his apartment door.
Shortly after, Taylor set his apartment couch on fire, grabbed a .22 caliber pistol, and shot Kroll, who died shortly after.
Taylor then went to a nearby Burger King, where he shot and killed Joseph Healy, a former priest from Wilkinsburg, who was seated inside.
Taylor afterward traveled to a McDonald’s where he shot and injured Richard Clinger, who was sitting in a van with his stepdaughter. Taylor then entered the restaurant and shot and injured Steven Bostard, who was working behind the counter.
Taylor then shot Emil Sanielevici, who was waiting at the drive-through. Sanielevici died the next day.
Taylor, who prior to the shootings had no criminal record, also held a few people hostage in an office building before police took him into custody March 1.
All of Taylor’s victims were white males.
Carol Kroll said grief is something she has lived with every day since March 2000, but the news of Taylor’s death conjured a new feeling.
“It was a huge relief, just like a huge weight was lifted from me,” she said.
Kroll has followed Taylor’s case since he was taken into custody and charged with 46 offenses, including criminal homicide, aggravated assault, arson and ethnic intimidation.
In 2001, Taylor was convicted by a jury, and the death penalty sentence was handed down in early 2002.
Kroll expressed her frustration when Taylor’s execution was delayed in January 2006, and said she was given no explanation for the delay.
“My feeling was that I would die while he was still alive,” she said.
Kroll has lived in her Winfield Township home since 1985.
“John did a lot of work here; it would be hard for me to leave this house,” she said.
John died months shy of their 29th wedding anniversary, according to Kroll. She and her husband had three children.
Though John never got to meet his five grandchildren, who range in age from 11 to 17, he is still spoken of often, Kroll said.
“We got cheated out of a lot,” Kroll said.
She recalled how her husband wasn’t able to be there to walk their daughter down the aisle and wasn’t able to be present at their son’s wedding.
Kroll said her youngest grandson is very interested in learning about John, and was able to listen to stories from one of his grandfather’s closest childhood friends the Saturday before Taylor died.
Kroll said anyone who knew John liked him, and she described him as easy going.
“He was a good guy, a wonderful husband and father. He was close with his family,” she said. “They all had a rough time with (his death).”
On the anniversary of John’s death and other special dates, Kroll said she goes to the cemetery and sits at her husband’s grave.
The grief is not something that ever gets easier, she said.
“You just learn to live with it. It’s something from one day to the next; you never know how you’re gong to be feeling,” she said. “It’s nothing that ends, ever.”
