Edward “Eddie” Smith was, according to a friend, “a crazy guy”. He was nicknamed “Sheikh” by his many pals, due to his penchant for wearing turbans. He was always up for a good time, and would’ve stood out in a crowd.
Surprizingly, he knew Dahmer for some time before being murdered by him, and might have even considered him a friend. He had even been to his apartment, and had always returned alive and reasonably cheerful. So, when Dahmer invited him back once more on the fourteenth of June, 1990, he saw no reason to be suspicious.
Whilst he was there, Jeff, always the gracious host, offered him a drink. Eddie drank it, and was soon fast asleep from the drugs swimming in it. Once he was out, Dahmer strangled him, removed his flesh from his bones, and used those bones as ornaments. Dahmer painted them gray so that they would look like the type of models commonly studied by artists and medical students. He possibly planned to use them as part of a Satanic “altar” he would later construct.
There is a terrible sadness in this murder. As a relative of Eddie’s said at the trial, “All Edward Smith wanted was to be Dahmer’s friend.” All over the world, millions of lonely people lead miserable lives. They have no friend to invite them places, or joke around with, and when they run into tough times, there is no-one they can talk to about it. But Dahmer was not one of them. He had a friend in Eddie, who would’ve probably stayed his friend. But he couldn’t stop himself from ruining it, just like he did with every other good thing in his life.
And what of Eddie’s other friends? The bartender of the nightclub from which he disappeared later said that, after a few years, he had to close up. He said that he lost a lot when he closed, not just of them the club. That man lost a good friend, and perhaps other friends who met their end in Jeff. There are plenty of stories just like him out there-heartbreak, loss and grief, and all for the selfish whims of a whiny little milquetoast called Jeffrey Dahmer.
Rest in peace, Mr. Smith.