On a quiet summer afternoon in July 1985, a small Illinois town was shattered by a crime so brutal it would haunt the community for decades. Fifteen-year-old Christy Wesselman, a popular student and athlete, had just returned home from summer classes when she told her mother she was walking to a nearby store. It was a short trip—just minutes away—and she promised to bring back a soda and chocolate bar. Her mother expected her home quickly. But Christy never returned.
At first, her mother believed Christy might have run into friends. But as evening fell and no word came, panic set in. By 1:50 a.m., she contacted police, and officers quickly began retracing Christy’s steps. Witnesses confirmed she had visited the store around 4 p.m., cheerful and seemingly fine. But beyond that, the trail went cold.
By morning, investigators began combing through a shortcut field that kids often used to get to the store. There, hidden in the tall grass, they found Christy’s body. She had been sexually assaulted and stabbed eight times. A piece of biological evidence was collected, but in 1985 DNA testing was still in its infancy. The sample was preserved, but it offered no immediate answers.
One small detail stood out: Christy had been wearing a pearl ring that was missing from the scene. Police suspected the killer may have taken it as a trophy. Still, with no leads and no witnesses, the case stalled.
In the years that followed, investigators pursued dozens of suspects. One man, Dana Henry, became the focus early on. He lived near the crime scene and refused to provide a DNA sample. Police jailed him briefly, and the community turned against him. He lost his home, his finances, and even his reputation—despite never being charged. Eventually, DNA cleared him, but the damage was irreversible. Henry’s life had been destroyed by suspicion.
The case grew colder with each passing year. Even Christy’s family became targets of torment when a man named Willis repeatedly harassed them with false tips, forcing them to seek a restraining order. Meanwhile, the real killer remained free.
Then, in 2000, the preserved DNA was entered into the FBI database—but no matches came back. The Wesselman family braced themselves for the possibility they might never get answers. For 30 years, Christy’s murder remained a dark stain on the community, with each failed lead reopening old wounds.
Everything changed in 2015. A new DNA sample was uploaded into the database after a man named Michael Jones was arrested for domestic violence. Investigators were stunned when his DNA matched perfectly with the sample collected from Christy’s crime scene three decades earlier.
Michael Jones was a name no one had ever heard in connection with the case. He wasn’t a suspect, a witness, or even remotely on police radar. But his criminal record told a different story. Jones had a history of violence against women dating back to the 1970s. He had been convicted of assault but served only six years of a ten-to-twenty-year sentence, released early for “good behavior.” In 1983, just two years before Christy’s murder, he was free again.
Over the years, Jones’s disturbing behavior escalated—restraining orders from ex-wives, violent assaults, and an unhealthy fixation on young women. He often took long motorcycle trips, sometimes passing through towns like Glen Ellyn. Investigators believe he may have encountered Christy by chance on one of these trips.
When DNA confirmed him as the killer, Christy’s mother could hardly believe it. She had never heard Jones’s name before. For her, it was both a relief and a torment. Relief that the truth had finally surfaced, but torment knowing that if Jones had served his full prison sentence, Christy would still be alive.
In 2018, more than 30 years after the crime, Jones finally faced justice. Faced with overwhelming DNA evidence, he pled guilty. The judge sentenced him to 80 years in prison, ensuring he would likely die behind bars.
The resolution came far too late for Christy’s family, who endured decades of pain, unanswered questions, and the injustice of watching the wrong man be accused. Dana Henry, once branded a suspect, attended the trial of the real killer. Even then, he admitted the damage done to his life could never truly be undone. He never received an apology from police.
Christy’s story is one of lost innocence, investigative failures, and the long fight for justice. It also highlights how advances in forensic science can change the course of history. For Christy’s family, the conviction of Michael Jones closed a painful chapter. But it also raised a haunting truth: had the system worked the first time, Christy’s bright life would never have been cut short.
