Long before he ever drank the blood of people and animals, Richard Trenton Chase lived an unassuming life. Born on May 23rd, 1950, in Santa Clara County, California, to Richard Chase Sr., a computer specialist, and Beatrice, a teacher, Richard appeared in his earliest years to be an average boy—nothing special, though nothing peculiar, either.
When he was three years old, his family managed to afford to move into a house in Sacramento, and the next year, his sister Pamela was born. He was a Cub Scout and played four years of little league baseball. Young Richard was well-liked by his teachers, who all thought he was a sweet child, and he was popular with his peers, with dozens of them coming to attend his birthday parties.
On the surface, the Chases were just like any other family building a life for themselves in mid-century America. However, things at home were a different story.
The 1950s were a polarizing time in American history. Many fondly recall the era’s economic prosperity and the growing middle class. It was the age of rock ‘n’ roll and televisions, but it was also the time when the nuclear family values reigned supreme. Husbands and fathers were the heads of the house, and the rest of the family obeyed. It is little surprise then that, at the time, Richard Chase’s childhood was considered to have been unmarred by abuse, especially so when compared to the early lives of other serial killers.