

Who would be suspected of physically abusing another daughter and a son. But through court documents, medical records and dozens of police reports, along with numerous interviews by Milwaukee Magazine of those who knew Ron, a vivid portrait emerges.īehind the greasepaint, another personality resided, not the smiling red-haired clown with the squeaky voice, not the happy entertainer who would do magic and card tricks and dress up as Santa Claus or a leprechaun, but a vengeful, controlling dominator who, in the coming years, would be accused of brutally beating his second wife and live-in girlfriends. He denies harming the baby or Christine, and denies all accusations of abusive treatment of other women and children. Schroeder declined to be interviewed for this article, responding only in writing to questions. While never charged with killing his daughter, it was Ron Schroeder who would be blamed Ð by the doctors who treated the baby, and eventually by his wife. The death was ruled a homicide by the medical examiner’s office. The injuries, concluded the autopsy report, were consistent with Shaken Baby Syndrome. Contusions to her brain had caused hemorrhaging days earlier, and her retinas had detached, causing “blood behind the eyes.” An autopsy found four of the baby’s ribs had been fractured, and her stomach, chin and left ear had been bruised. By the next day, Schroeder would be standing numb with his wife at Children’s Hospital of Wisconsin as their child was pronounced dead. He was always funny.”īut as he performed for the children on that August afternoon in 1991, his own child was in peril. “I can’t say enough good things about him,” says Hall. Silly’s standing was also high with his fellow clowns. Hall has known Silly since he started out. “The audiences loved him,” says Terese Hall, acting director of the West Allis-based International Clown Hall of Fame. He was known for his balloon sculptures and his “invisible dog” routine, where he’d hold a stiff-but-empty collar and leash in front of him, walking a dog no one could see. Silly talked in a squeaky falsetto, almost like a girl. Silly the Clown performed often, playing restaurants and private parties, the Milwaukee County Zoo and Circus Parade. Ron spent most of that Saturday at the Ground Round tickling funny bones. Now she was just too afraid to cross him. And one day, when she was seven months pregnant with Catie, he flew into a rage, attacking her, dragging her into the living room and throwing her onto a couch. He would punch her on the side of the head and kick her in the legs, places where bruises wouldn’t be noticed. Soon after they began living together, he began to call her fat and ugly, she later told police. The baby just had a cold or flu and would be fine.Ĭhristine abides by Ron’s order.
REPORTED BURGLARY LOHRVILLE WI 2006 FULL
The child stares blankly, her eyes not tracking as her mother’s hand passes before her.Ĭhristine Schroeder wants to take her daughter to the hospital she has full medical coverage. She won’t eat or sleep and doesn’t respond to her mom’s voice. Something is not right with the couple’s 7-week-old daughter, Catie.

Meanwhile, across town at the Briarwick Pool Apartments in Greenfield, Schroeder’s wife Christine is in a panic. Schroeder flashes a big, showy grin at the mirror, then steps into the Ground Round’s dining room to greet an audience of jittery grade-schoolers, moms and dads. Then the final touch Ð a wig of dangling red curls and a cone-shaped hat on top. With a greasepaint crayon, he outlines the smile and eyebrows in red, and with eyelash glue affixes a red rubber nose to his real one. High on his forehead he paints two arching eyebrows. A light coating of baby oil glistens on his face as he scoops white greasepaint from a jar.Ĭarefully, expertly, Schroeder paints a wide, exaggerated smile around his mouth, stretching from chin to cheekbones. Ron Schroeder sits before a mirror in the back room of the Ground Round Grill and Bar on Brown Deer Road.
