GAINESVILLE, Fla. -- A brother wears his dead sister's high school ring - a reminder of all that was lost that horrible week five college students were slain.
A mother slips into church, hiding in a back pew from the pity and unease her daughter's death still evokes.
A father clips a yellow rose for his daughter's room, untouched since the killings that terrorized this college town late in the summer of 1990.
Long awaited by the victims' grieving families and by residents who want to put the slayings behind them, the trial for the man charged with the killing spree begins Tuesday. The charges: five counts of murder and three rapes. The head of one victim was placed on a shelf, with mirrors positioned for shock value.
The defendant: Danny Rolling, 39, a guitar-playing drifter and high school dropout from Shreveport, La. He's also wanted in his hometown, where he's linked to the shooting of his retired police officer father and suspected in a triple-murder. Rolling could face death by electrocution if convicted of the student killings.
Some of the victims' families will attend the trial. Laurie Lahey, sister of Tracy Paules, quit her job at an Atlanta decorating company to be in court. "I have to be there," she says.
Northeastern University professor Jack Levin, an expert on mass killings, says the Gainesville case fits an alarming pattern of violence aimed at college students.
At the root: rage over the promise and economic opportunity young students represent. "Resentment might very well fit" the case, says Levin.
Dominated by the University of Florida - the state's largest with 36,000 students - the once-tranquil city of Gainesville has not been the same since the slayings. As the fall term began in 1990, and body after body was found, the town and campus reached hysteria. Co-eds slept in groups with guns. Parents rushed to rescue college kids; 500 withdrew.
The school's enrollment has rebounded, even increased. The majority of today's students weren't even here when the murders occurred.
Reminders are constant: A wall memorializes the victims. Other sections have been scrawled over, but the black panel with a red heart for those killed is unmarred.
For students who now shop for high-security apartments, and never forget to double-check doors, the murders stole the sense that college is all high-jinks and innocence:
"It's still an eerie feeling," says Susan Csizmadia, 22, a graduate student in journalism.
Adds Karen Kingsley, 21, "You're always reminded: It's not a safe world. Be cautious."
After focusing attention on another suspect - a mentally unbalanced student named Edward Humphrey - Florida's costliest manhunt narrowed to Rolling. With the suspect already jailed for a string of robberies, investigators took time to build a case. Rolling was indicted Nov. 15, 1991.
Key evidence in the trial, expected to last eight weeks:
Prosecutors say DNA recovered from semen at murder scenes matches Rolling's.
Jailhouse statements Rolling made to inmates and investigators. While he has maintained his innocence, Rolling revealed the murder weapon was a Marine combat Ka-Bar knife, along with other details only the killer could have known, investigators have said.
Says Christopher Slobogin, a professor at University of Florida's law school: "The defense's problem is the evidence is overwhelming."
Defense attorneys may argue mitigating factors - a history of abuse and mental problems - in an effort to keep Rolling from the electric chair.
Rolling's behavior has drawn attention in the past:
He is remembered by neighbors in Shreveport for jogging in combat gear while toting a heavy log. After watching him spar with trees, they dubbed him "Rambo."
While awaiting sentencing on 1985 robbery charges, Rolling asked his Mississippi lawyer if the judge would agree to cut off his hands. He also shaved his head and eyebrows.
He's currently involved in a romance with free-lance journalist Sondra London. She's trying to market her own book about Rolling and his artistic offerings. In her book, she calls him "one gorgeous hunk of man," while Rolling wrote to her about a hero who turns into a snarling werewolf before his lover's terrified eyes.
THE GAINESVILLE SLAYING VICTIMS
Tracy Paules, 23, from Miami. Honor student studying pre-law at the University of Florida; class president at American High School in Miami, where she also played softball and soccer.
Manuel Taboada, 23, was the only male killed. A close friend of Paules' from high school, the former football star shared her apartment. He planned to study architecture.
Sonja Larson, 18, of Deerfield Beach, Fla., was an award-winning artist active in her Baptist church. A freshman, she also was eager to start classes so she could become a teacher.
Christina Powell, 17, of Jacksonville, Fla., shared an off-campus apartment with Larson. Also a freshman, she wanted to study architecture so she could design housing for the poor.
Christa Hoyt, 18, of Archer, Fla., attended a community college with plans to enter University of Florida. A chemistry whiz, she worked as a records clerk at the local sheriff's office.
