Johnson won't apologize for killings

MILWAUKEE (AP) - The man who shot and killed three teenage swimmers on the Wisconsin-Michigan border last summer is so indifferent to his killing spree that he compares it to spilling a glass of milk.

"Do you get all upset about it? No, you just clean it up and get another glass of milk," said Scott J. Johnson, 38, of Kingsford, Mich. "It might sound sick or sadistic to come off that way but that's pretty much it."

The killings were "very easy to do," he said, adding that he wouldn't mind if Wisconsin had the death penalty.

Johnson spoke to The Associated Press recently by phone from the Marinette County Jail in northern Wisconsin.

He pleaded no contest this month to 10 charges, including three counts of first-degree intentional homicide. He sits in solitary confinement awaiting his mandatory life sentence on May 21. He doesn't expect the judge to give him a chance for parole.

Johnson won't apologize to the victims' families that day.

"I don't care what they think," he said. "Anyway, considering the act I did an apology would come off as pretty weak, you know?"

None of the victims' families responded to requests for comment.

Wisconsin Attorney General J.B. Van Hollen said Johnson's words would only open old wounds.

"His comments serve only to re-victimize the survivors and the families of those whom he has confessed to killing," Van Hollen said. "Johnson deserves the maximum penalty law allows, and we will be seeking just that."

Johnson freely admitted to his criminal actions, which began with a sexual assault July 30, the day before the shootings. Johnson had coaxed a 24-year-old acquaintance to join him on a bike ride. He took her to a remote area by the Menominee River and assaulted her.

Unlike his indifference toward killing, Johnson said the sexual assault left him guilty: "I think what it is is, I betrayed her trust. I've been betrayed in the past and that hurts a lot."

Johnson was a man who generally kept to himself. He had joined the Army 10 days after graduating from high school in Kingsford, serving nearly 5 years in Shreveport, La. He got married and had two kids, but the marriage ended in 2001 when his wife and children moved in with her parents.

He said he turned to alcohol and marijuana. Eventually he quit his job to spite his ex-wife by taking away child-support payments. That and writing bad checks led to a number of arrest warrants.

His ex-wife, Theresa Johnson, described him as "controlling, a "neat freak" and a "loner with few friends," according to a report from psychologist who interviewed Johnson in 2008. He once threatened his ex-wife with a gun.

"He said, 'I could of killed her. ... She was scared, I was scared," psychologist Deborah Collins wrote in a report released Tuesday by the Department of Justice.

Johnson threatened his ex-wife again in 2001 after they separated and she moved to Ohio. Theresa Johnson called police, Collins wrote.

"Mr. Johnson reportedly said, 'I am going to (expletive) kill you. Not right now but soon, very soon. Not only am I going to kill you, I'm going to torture you and I'm going to kill your parents for supporting your (expletive) ass,"' she wrote.

Johnson bought final items for the shooting rampage using bad checks - a rifle, ammunition, sleeping bag, clothes and first-aid kit. He planned to pawn the weapon and flee to another country - Canada, maybe, or South Africa. Instead he returned to Michigan to see his mother and decided to stay.

He stashed his ill-gotten purchases in the woods. Police later quoted him as telling investigators he was "stockpiling" weapons for a later killing, but he said he was simply trying to protect his mother by keeping the items out of her home.

He couldn't apply for a job without an employer discovering his warrants. So he "leeched" off his mother.

The day after the sexual assault his mother told him police were looking for him. If job prospects were bleak before the sexual assault, he thought, being labeled a sex offender would make employment impossible.

"I started weighing stuff and said, 'I'm screwed,"' he said. "I was really bitter, full of hate."

So instead of turning himself in, he began to hatch a bloody plan.

Johnson often visited the Menominee River railroad bridge, a hangout for local teens. He had exchanged occasional pleasantries with them but otherwise kept to himself.

His hazy plan on July 31 was to kill the teens as "bait" to attract police, then take out officers one by one.

"I was either going to be shot and killed by police or be in prison for the rest of my life," he said.

With about eight teens swimming below, he dressed in camouflage and loaded his rifle.

Johnson expected the teens to leave on a distant trail, where he could easily pick them off. But when they approached his hiding spot he panicked and began spraying bullets.

One bullet hit 18-year-old Anthony Spigarelli, who had just graduated from Kingsford High School and had talked about becoming an engineer. He died, as did Tiffany Pohlson, 17, and Bryan Mort, 19. All three were from Michigan.

A fourth teen held Mort as he bled to death. Johnson recognized the teen, the only one he knew by name and who had always been friendly. Johnson didn't care.

"I was going to put him down," Johnson said. "He was hollering. Then I heard sirens and that stopped me, got me thinking."

Johnson fired about 17 shots in all. He would have shot more but his rifle repeatedly jammed, so he fled.

As a manhunt ensued, Johnson crawled around, looking for officers to kill but never getting a clean look. He eluded police all night but his resolve eventually wavered. He saw suicide as "a coward's way out" so he dismantled his weapon and surrendered.

Johnson said his initial plea of not guilty by reason of insanity was forced on him by his lawyer. He dumped the lawyer and pleaded no contest.

He has never been mentally ill, he said. Instead he just "snapped," driven to kill in part by the trauma of being separated from his kids.

When reminded that many men lose custody of their kids but don't go on killing sprees, Johnson still doesn't apologize.

"That's true, that's their choice," he said. "I guess I'm lashing back. I'm taking a punch at the system."

Eight months after the shootings, Johnson reads mystery books from his mother and does puzzles. Wisconsin has no death penalty but if it did, Johnson said he "would go quietly."

He still replays the shootings in his mind - but never feels a pang of remorse.

"It was very easy to kill," he said matter-of-factly. "Very easy."