By the summer of 1977, New York was suffocating — not just from the heat, but from the dread of a killer who struck without warning. A serial gunman, self-dubbed “Son of Sam,” prowled the boroughs, leaving a trail of death and fear. Behind this chilling moniker stood David Berkowitz, a 24-year-old postal worker from Yonkers, whose yearlong spree claimed six lives and wounded seven more.

Berkowitz was born Richard David Falco in 1953, the child of an affair. His biological mother gave him up shortly after birth, and he was adopted by Nathan and Pearl Berkowitz. Despite their love, he grew up feeling abandoned—a feeling exacerbated by learning his biological mother was alive, contrary to what he had been told. His reaction to this betrayal was volatile, marked by angry outbursts and an obsession with setting small fires.

His descent into darkness accelerated after an unfulfilling stint in the U.S. Army and a series of menial jobs. Feeling invisible and utterly alone, Berkowitz turned to arson and eventually, violence. In 1976, he purchased a .44 caliber revolver, marking the beginning of the Son of Sam shootings.

The randomness of his attacks—targeting couples in cars and lone women—terrorized New Yorkers. Berkowitz taunted the police and media with letters that mixed biblical references with dark humor, demanding attention and instilling widespread fear. His arrest came about not through detective work, but a mundane parking ticket, leading to a breakthrough in one of the city’s largest manhunts.

Behind every headline were real victims whose lives were brutally cut short. Young people like Donna Lauria and Jody Valenti were simply sitting in a car when Berkowitz struck for the first time. The city reeled with each subsequent attack, each random shooting deepening the collective anxiety.

In custody, Berkowitz's demeanor swung between smirking disturbances and claims of demonic influence, a spectacle that veered into the surreal. Convicted on multiple counts of murder, he was sentenced to life in prison. Inside, he transformed, becoming a born-again Christian and adopting the moniker “Son of Hope,” though many view this as just another manipulative twist in his complex persona.

The debate continues—was Berkowitz mad or merely bad? His meticulous planning contrasted sharply with his claims of demonic possession and obedience to a neighbor’s dog. Criminologists and psychologists debate whether his actions stemmed from psychosis or a calculated effort to instill fear. What remains undisputed is the terror he wrought on New York, a city already on edge, forever marked by his year-long reign of terror.

Today, Berkowitz resides in Shawangunk Correctional Facility, his life a study in the capacity for human darkness and the quest for redemption. His case spurred the creation of “Son of Sam” laws and influenced how media and law enforcement handle serial crimes. For many New Yorkers, the memory of that fearful summer remains vivid, a stark reminder of the evil that can lurk behind the most ordinary façades.