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Former Ohio, Kentucky bank robber seeks normalcy

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By QUAN TRUONG, The Associated Press 12:56 PM Monday, November 30, 2009

CINCINNATI — Dan Schwarberg finds it hard to trust people. He doesn't like leaving the house. He thinks people look at him funny, but he isn't sure if it's just in his head or if they've figured out who he is.

Life for someone once dubbed the "Average Joe Robber" isn't easy.

After serving 8½ years in state and federal prisons, the man once featured on "America's Most Wanted" is trying to be normal once again.

How normal can you be, he said, when you've led a very abnormal life?

At one time, Schwarberg was infamous for robbing a string of banks along Interstate 75 in Ohio and Kentucky, taking at least $36,000. Frustrated FBI agents tracked him for 1½ years before finally catching him on his 18th robbery in Lexington in 2000.

He was released on Jan. 11 this year, on a quiet Sunday morning when most people were still in bed.

Schwarberg missed three presidential elections while behind bars. He also missed his son's high school graduation, his daughter's wedding and the birth of his grandchild.

"A guy in prison once told me that after three years, you lose your friends. After about seven, you start losing your family. And that's what happened," he said. "I watched my grandkids grow up in pictures. It hurts. All these things eat away at you every day."

Schwarberg often thinks back about the past 20 years. He tries to find the one moment when it all went wrong, the one decision that led to his two-state robbery spree and the mistake that removed him from society for nearly a decade.

"It was pretty big at the time," said Doug Warner, the now-retired FBI agent who investigated the case. "We got a number of tips but nothing ever panned out, despite the good pictures we got of him. He was just a nondescript guy."

It's hard to pick Schwarberg out of the crowd, even if you've met him before.

The 52-year-old man with glasses is unassuming. He is of average height and average weight. Sometimes his eyes wander, but he holds a conversation well, his words refined and his thoughts organized.

Schwarberg doesn't make it high on the list of most dangerous robbers. He never carried a gun.

But in terms of robbers who got away after their heists, Schwarberg probably ranks in the top 10 percent of cases that Warner investigated.

"He wasn't a run-of-the mill robber. Most people think of bank robbers as some kind of drugged-out derelict and he wasn't like that," he said. "He's from a pretty good background, had a good job. He's personable, well-spoken and seemed to be a very intelligent person."

Schwarberg said he began robbing banks out of desperation. He owed $20,000 in back taxes and had to pay about $800 a month in child support. His income from his job as a Comair service manager at Cincinnati/Northern Kentucky Airport was being garnished and he worked part-time jobs delivering pizza and painting homes.

"I was in the hole the first of every month. I just got overwhelmed with everything and I was depressed," he said. "I thought about walking into a moving propeller at the airport and make it look like an accident so my kids would get the insurance. I thought very seriously about that."

The first time he walked up to a bank to rob it, he turned around.

That happened about half the time during his robbery spree. Eventually, as the bills piled up and he was down to his last fistful of dollars or gallon of gas, he returned to make his unauthorized withdrawals.

Schwarberg's robberies were formula. He scouted out banks by the interstate and listened to police scanner traffic for days before he hit them. He had a checklist taped to his steering wheel that he followed closely.

He never took $20 bills, knowing they had dye packs. He always asked for a specific amount, between $3,000 and $4,000, so he could watch as the teller counted out the money. Sometimes, heencouraged them to take some for themselves.

He wore clear Band-Aids on his fingers so he wouldn't leave prints, always wore two sets of clothes and took the license plates off his car.

Driving to each bank, he drank half a glass of vodka, mixed with half a glass of orange juice — the perfect blend to get him just buzzed enough to work up the courage when he went in. He soon became an alcoholic, drinking himself to sleep each night and drinking another glass at 6 a.m. before work. He drank so much some nights that he couldn't remember how he got home.

"I honestly believe, as much as I was drinking, that I was on a real big path of destruction," he said. "I'm not sure the drinking would've stopped, even if I stopped robbing banks and I don't know what would've happened if I hadn't been caught."

On July 11, 2000, he had promised himself the 18th robbery would be the last. He was finally paying off the last of his back taxes and was caught up on child support.

He made one mistake. He forgot his checklist and didn't take the license plate off the car.

When Lexington police stopped him on the interstate, he already knew.

"I was numb," he said. "I was numb for several days after that but I was also relieved."

He didn't tell a soul what he did.

Even when surveillance photos of him were splattered all over television and in newspapers, no one suspected him. His girlfriend said when FBI agents showed up at the Verona, Ky., house she shared with Schwarberg, she thought it was a joke.

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