Charles Patrick Ewing, author When bartender Robert Ward walked into work for the night shift at Red’s Place on North Nellis Boulevard, in Las Vegas, on November 7, 1991, he could not have had any idea that he was about to become the next victim of the Knorr family’s sick and twisted household. For Robert Knorr, life in Vegas had become a game of desperate stakes since arriving from Reno. He had no money and was living on the streets or scrounging a bed for the night from some passing stranger. Reno might have been the garbage can of northern and central California, but Vegas seemed to be the waste disposal unit for the entire country. And Robert’s earlier split with his mom when they were both up in Reno was probably the final straw as far as his own sense of self-preservation was concerned. Ironically, while he may well have been desperate to get away from her, she did in many ways protect him from himself. How could a man barely out of his teens have any sense of moral purpose in life after experiencing and, his sister Terry claims, taking part in the killing of his two sisters?
