Community Corner

'When We Lost Our Innocence': Nurse Who First Saw Tylenol Connection Remembers Murders 35 Years Later

"It's the Tylenol." Retired Arlington Heights village nurse Helen Jensen was the first to make the connection in the 1982 deaths.

ARLINGTON HEIGHTS, IL — Now 80 years old, Helen Jensen lives an unassuming life as a retired nurse and former trustee in the village of Arlington Heights. Outside of her hometown, not many people would recognize her. But her place in American history and connection to one of the country's longest, most puzzling unsolved mysteries has been cemented. It was Jensen who, in 1982, was the first person to figure out that a tampered Tylenol bottle was to blame for the deaths of three of the seven victims of the Tylenol Murders.

Jensen was the village nurse in Arlington Heights who went to the Janus family home on Sept. 29, 1982 as a public health official investigating the sudden deaths of three members of the family: Adam, Stanley and Theresa.

"We looked around and found prescription medication... then I saw in the bathroom an open bottle of Tylenol," Jensen remembered in an interview with Patch on the eve of the 35th anniversary of the murders. "I counted up the pills and saw six capsules missing and there were three people dead. I said right then and there: It's the Tylenol." (Get Patch real-time email alerts for the latest Arlington Heights news. And iPhone users: Check out Patch's new app.)

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Initially, authorities didn't believe her. Even when Jensen and those investigating the deaths returned that night to Northwest Community Hospital, where all three Janus family members were pronounced dead, the connection still had not been verified by anyone else.

"They all poo-pooed me at the time," Jensen said. "They didn't think that a nurse, a woman, would (make the connection)."

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Jensen said it was actually earlier in the day when two of the Janus family members were still on life support that the "first inkling" of a Tylenol connection came to mind. She had been told by a grieving Teresa Janus, Adam's wife, that the last thing Adam did before he collapsed was take Tylenol pills he bought that day. When Jensen found the bottle in the bathroom and a receipt for it that showed it was bought that day, she was absolutely sure.

"Still, not many believed me," she said. "No one thought it could possibly be the Tylenol."

But the next morning, Jensen woke up and was told by her husband that the connection was confirmed on a radio newscast.

"He said 'Helen, you were right. They are saying it's the Tylenol.'"

That day, Jensen went beyond her authority and called Tylenol-maker Johnson & Johnson.

"I told them they got to get all the Tylenol off the shelves," she said.

She said the same thing to local authorities — some of the same ones who did not believe her the night before.

"And by 10 a.m., all the Tylenol was off the shelves at every store in Arlington Heights," she said.

A nationwide recall followed, as did a hunt for the killer that continues 35 years later.

ALSO ON PATCH: Tylenol Murders - Still Unsolved After 35 Years

But Jensen's involvement with the case came to an end the day after her monumental discovery.

"I've talked with reporters and have been on TV, but no authority has interviewed me about it since," she said.

That doesn't mean Jensen has no opinions on who poisoned the Tylenol. Like many others, she believe it was James Lewis. Lewis is the man who was imprisoned for 13 years after he was found guilty of extorting money from Johnson & Johnson in the wake of the scare.

Authorities have never been able to pin the actual crime on Lewis, however. They did confiscate a computer from his home in Boston just a few years ago, but to this day no one has been charged in connection with the deaths of the three members of the Janus family, Paula Prince of Chicago, Mary Kellerman of Elk Grove Village, Mary McFarland of Elmhurst and Mary Reiner of Winfield.

"Personally, I think it was the gentleman who extorted the money," Jensen said. "That is logical."

Arlington Heights police continue to investigate the Tylenol case 35 years later, calling it an "active investigation" and one that includes multiple suspects.

But the sense by many around Chicagoland and the nation is that as every year goes by the chances of justice being served is more and more diminished.

What's not diminished is the impact the Tylenol Murders continue to have on the way we live. Before the fall of 1982, tamper-proof packaging for medicine, beverages, vitamins and other products did not exist. No one thought anyone would poison a bottle of medicine and return it to the store shelves.

The Tylenol case is the prime example of a random killing, where the killer had no sense of who the victims would be.

"It was when we lost our innocence," Jensen said. "The first act of terrorism."

The result has been sometimes complex safety seals put on just about anything sold over-the-counter.

Jensen's first husband, Attorney Lester Jensen, died of lung disease in 1997. She is now married to Jack Whisler, the retired president of Brian Properties Real Estate.

"Whenever Jack struggles opening his prescription pill bottle he's always telling me, 'Damn you, Helen, and that Tylenol,'" she said.

"People nowadays seem to forget that this is why we have safety seals on everything."

It's hard to say whether the seven deaths would have ever been connected to Tylenol if it hadn't been for Jensen's quick realization.

"But I was just the nurse and a woman," she said, adding that had a man been the one to mention Tylenol initially, "they would have believed him right away."

"I think I would have been more vocal about it if this had happened today, but women still have many glass ceilings to shatter."

For 24 years, Jensen — a native of Minnesota — was the nurse for the village of Arlington Heights. And while her role in the Tylenol case was certainly the closest her work would come to the national spotlight, it's far from her fondest memory on the job.

"Family members were lost, children lost their parents and an only child was taken," she said. "I like to remember more the times when I played a part in saving lives."

Photo by Tim Moran / Patch

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