A Harris poll taken in 1998 showed that 41 percent of people believe in ghosts; I am among the 59 percent who don’t. There are plenty of things I believe in that I can’t see or prove (gravity comes to mind), but the thought that a spirit might continue to occupy our world after death eludes me. Being agnostic, if I had proof of an afterlife, proof that the spirit and soul continues after death, I might ultimately have proof of God. After this year when God appears to be suspiciously absent from the lives of even his most devout believers, wouldn’t that be something? Having proof of something beyond this life?

Some people believe that a house in Villisca, Iowa, is haunted and that it readily offers up such proof. Others believe that it’s merely an ordinary house where something extraordinary happened. Most everyone else agrees that it’s an important part of Iowa’s history. I didn’t know what to believe, but I had no qualms about staying in the Villisca axe murder house overnight and taking a couple of friends with me.

 

The Crime
Usually about this time of year, the house starts getting heavy publicity. Even by today’s standards, the crime was unbelievably gruesome. Eight people — two adults and six children, all were murdered with an axe sometime in the early hours of June 10, 1912. The victims were Josiah Moore, his wife, Sara, their four children, and two visiting friends of their children, Lena and Ina Stillinger. Ironically, all had returned home that night from a church event celebrating "Children’s Day." Even more ironic is that the Stillinger children decided to spend the night with the Moore children because they were afraid to walk to their grandmother’s house in the dark.

Exactly what happened that night remains a mystery, but the bodies were mutilated almost beyond recognition. There were no signs of forced entry. Presumably, the killer hid in the house (most believe in the attic closet) and lay in wait until everyone was asleep. All were murdered in their beds, with the possible exception of Lena Stillinger, age 11, whose corpse may have displayed a defense wound on her arm and was found to have been moved down on her bed, unlike the others. The upstroke of the axe was raised with such force that dents were noted in the ceiling above the beds. Then the murderer carefully covered all the victims’ faces and every mirror in the house with clothing. The perpetrator closed all the windows and the drapes, washed his (or her) bloody hands in a basin left in the sink, locked the door and left the house, disappearing into the darkness, leaving the carnage to be discovered.

Aftermath
It was very warm the next morning and a neighbor thought it odd that all the windows in the house were shut and the drapes closed. The animals had not been tended and there were no signs of the children. The neighbor knocked and found no answer. The door was locked and a phone inside was ringing. Josiah Moore had not arrived at his hardware store. By 9 a.m., the neighbor called Moore’s brother, who brought a key to the house. A few moments later, the town of Villisca was forever changed.

The 2,000 inhabitants of the town were understandably terrified. Families slept with their neighbors, the men taking turns on watch. The hardware stores sold out of every lock in their inventory. Townspeople frantically bought guns. Newspaper reporters from around the country flooded the streets. During the funeral, the population of the town tripled to 6,000. For a period of time the Villisca axe murders even replaced major newspaper headlines related to the recent sinking of the Titanic. Despite a grand jury investigation, the involvement of numerous legal and private detective agencies, two confessions from a minister (later recanted), and the eventual formation of the Iowa Bureau of Criminal Investigation, the crime was never solved.

Conspiracy Theory
There were at least two main suspects involved in the murder, one a very prominent member of the community, and the other a 5’2" minister and suspected pedophile, who had a disturbing habit of lurking about after dark and peering in windows. The other list of suspects reads like a "Clue" game, including a "nude, demented man in rowboat" and an "Indian from Oklahoma." One could spend months poring over written material, grand jury testimonies and private detectives' notes, simply trying to discern folklore from fact. The story includes adultery, voyeurism, greed, jealousy, and old money versus new.

The most popular theory is that it was a murder for hire instigated by two-term Iowa State Senator Frank Fernando Jones, who was being groomed by Republicans as the next candidate for governor. Jones, like the murder victim Josiah Moore, owned a local hardware store in Villisca. They were long-time bitter business rivals. In addition, Josiah’s store had recently wrestled the coveted John Deere franchise away from Jones. Even worse, many in town believed that Josiah Moore had been having an affair with Jones’ daughter-in-law.

Moore, age 43, was a prominent, well-liked member of the community, his family connections going back to the original founders of the town, and was prosperous but unassuming. Senator Jones had no such ancestral connections, was reported to have denied his own mother credit in his store, was nouveau riche and displayed his wealth freely, building himself the largest house in town. Jones had motive, unlike any of the other suspects, and it was believed that he had hired William "Blackie" Mansfield to murder Josiah Moore. When a grand jury failed to indict Mansfield, some believed that Jones’ money not only hired the murderer, but also bought the jury. The controversy ruined Jones’ political career and he lost his bid for re-election in 1916. Throughout his life, a cloud of suspicion followed him. He died a bitter man in Villisca in 1941, denying his involvement to the end.

Unending
The crime divided the community for years, some believing Jones’ guilt and others defending him. Jones was a Methodist and Moore was a Presbyterian. For years, Presbyterian and Methodist children weren’t allowed to play with each other. Now, 90 years later, controversy related to the mystery continues in Villisca. Some folks in Villisca resent the continued attention, feeling that it is exploitative. Others find it beneficial to the rural community’s struggling economy and insist that it’s an important part of Iowa’s history. Innumerous articles, a play and at least one book have been written on the crime. TV crews have visited and the story has appeared on Fox Family Channel’s "Scariest Places on Earth." Out-of-town groups schedule tours and paranormal investigative teams come through with some regularity. A Los Angeles-based independent film company finished a documentary about the Villisca story early this year and an independent film company will begin shooting a feature-length film about it this summer.

The house itself, originally built in 1868, changed hands about seven times after the murders. By the early 1990s, it had fallen into some disrepair and was in danger of being razed, until the current owners, Darwin and Martha Linn, came along. Darwin is the type of likeable guy you’d welcome as a neighbor. Tall, well-spoken and, I suspect, more sophisticated than his overalls would indicate. He told a story about buying the house eight years ago.

House Beautiful
The house had been on the market for quite some time after being rental property for many years and although Linn really didn’t want it, he was worried about it being torn down. He’d put a rather low-ball bid on it and then forgot about doing so until six weeks later, when, on New Year’s Eve, he received a phone call saying he was the new owner. Then, he said, he had to figure out a way to tell his wife about the purchase.

The Linns decided to preserve the history of the house by converting it back to the way it was in 1912. This involved removing siding that exposed the original Victorian "fish scales" on the wood exterior and its front and back porches. Electrical wiring was removed, along with all the modern plumbing. Carpets were taken up to expose the original wood floors. Furnishings in the house were replaced with pieces appropriate to the era. The antique furniture, though not original to the house, was arranged in an identical floor plan based on coroners' reports. The house was added to the National Register of Historic Places in 1997 and the Linns began to give tours.

And, many say, that’s when things began to happen …

Visitors to the house reported seeing unusual lights, and some captured these lights on video cameras. People described unexplained noises and voices and a scratching sound coming from the wood stove. Some reported pockets of cold air. Cameras, when they worked, showed images not seen with the naked eye. Some folks claimed to have heard footsteps outside in the yard. And then again, some walked away from the house firmly believing that nothing paranormal exists there at all.

In Pictures
I stopped in Villisca one Sunday afternoon to take photos, a few weeks before spending the night. Prior to that I’d chatted with both a ghost hunter and a psychic from Omaha who were familiar with the house. After listening to them, I began to approach the task of entering the house alone at dusk with some trepidation. The vegetation around the house is a bit overgrown and the windows of the home are comprised of antiquated, wavy "rolled" glass. The exterior of the Victorian-style house resembles a horror-movie set piece, complete with Amityville-esque attic windows.

The exceptions to the spookiness are a large sign in front identifying it as the "Villisca Axe Murder House — 1912" and its typical-looking neighborhood, with neighbors just to the south. I was comforted knowing that if you screamed loud enough, someone (hopefully someone without an axe) might come running. The back door was unlocked and when I pushed on it, it opened a few inches and then stuck. With some perseverance I pushed past the door and found myself standing in a kitchen that seemed to belong to another century.

While walking through the house, I felt none of the "psychic energy" I was told existed. There was no feeling of dread. No sadness. No "negative force" in the notorious blue room. The pantry in the kitchen seemed pretty small for being a "portal to another world," for which it has become known. I snapped several pictures of both the exterior and interior of the house, some using the sepia effect on my Sony Mavica. Afterward, I drove up the hill to the Villisca graveyard to snap pics of the tombstones.

Oddly enough, after returning to Omaha that day and downloading the images, there was indeed a "blip" on one of the photos taken in the parlor. It appeared as a small, odd, circular "spot" on the left front piano leg and a bit of distortion near the keyboard. Those who believe in such phenomena call these "spirit orbs." Those who don’t usually explain the phenomena as light refraction or a dust particle in front of the lens. I personally don’t have a clue what it represents. I will say, however, that I’ve taken over 900 photos with my digital camera under very similar situations and light conditions and this is the first time I’ve encountered it. Several pictures of the parlor had been taken that day and only one photo showed anything the least bit curious. I finally decided to write it off as a reflection of light. I must have been standing in just the right spot, the light bounced, and the lens caught it.

Let's Spend the Night Together
Our overnight group Sept. 27 included my sister Linda, who genuinely believes in such happenings; Jeff Quinn, a friend who happens to be a professional magician and keeps an open mind about paranormal phenomenon; and me, a very sardonic freelance writer and antiques dealer.

We arrived in Villisca about 9 p.m. There was a thick fog that night and it was about 50 degrees. Darwin and his wife gave us the standard tour and then we chatted for about 15 minutes in the kitchen of the house. The house was a lot darker than I had anticipated and even with several kerosene lamps, it was difficult to see.

The Linns didn’t try to convince us of any paranormal activity in the house, though they did relate a few experiences that others had noted. Mrs. Linn mentioned that a psychic who had visited the house had told her that someone had left a paper boat as a gift on one of the children’s beds and that "they" didn’t like that.

Suddenly, my sister mentioned that she had felt something move past her and I immediately thought to myself, "Oh boy, here we go," and rolled my eyes. Jeff stated that he had just felt a pain in his leg, almost as if a child had run into him. I knew I was going to be in for a long night. These two didn’t know each other well but they were immediately forming a bond of apparent gullibility.

The Linns then very hospitably gave us the keys and said goodnight. We unpacked our gear in the living room — two big down comforters, blankets, pillows, flashlights and a ton of snack food. Linda and Jeff were insisting that they were sensing "cold pockets of air" throughout the house, particularly in the "blue room" where the Stillinger children were murdered. I felt nothing at all. No chills, no fears, no aches and pains. In fact, I very irreverently walked into the dreaded blue room, bounced up and down on the bed and made wisecracks. I taunted them to make an appearance. I then strolled into the kitchen pantry "portal" and danced the hokey pokey, putting my left foot in, etc. I even pulled a chair in with me and sat there joking and eating Fritos. The other two were laughing and telling me I was asking for it. Asking? I was begging for it.

We decided to experiment. Jeff made a pink balloon animal "for the girls," despite claiming that he was feeling a cold chill just then. We put the balloon on the bed in the blue room and decided to see if it would move that night.

The whole night was spent with such activities … Jeff and Linda trying to convince me of the house’s oddities and my trying to convince them that they were crazy. Eventually the two of them seemed as much at ease as I did in our surroundings. I took pictures throughout the entire evening but it was difficult, as most of the rooms were very dimly lit, so about half of the pictures were simply taken in darkness, blindly using the flash. I decided not to worry about it as I knew I could get more photos once it began to turn light.

Something's Wrong
About an hour before dawn, the three of us were lying supine, end-to-end, chatting, laughing and feeling cozy under the comforters. We were having a conversation of the "strangest place we ever did ‘it’" when I felt what I can only describe as a sudden, inexplicable, overwhelming anxiety, a cold chill and a feeling of impending danger. I bolted upright and started packing up our gear saying that I thought that we should leave now because, "nothing had happened and nothing was going to happen. It was time to go. It was almost 5 a.m. We should leave right now."

They seemed surprised and asked me why. I was adamant. I couldn’t really explain it but I was beginning to feel panicked and trying to not sound alarmed as I frantically shoved our provisions into my overnight bag.

Linda and Jeff drowsily stood and started folding up blankets, moving at a snail’s pace compared to mine. Jeff began talking about a cold spot he was feeling. Ignoring them, I quickly moved all the gear I could carry into the kitchen, desperate to get out of that house.

I heard Linda and Jeff in the background, talking about something that "couldn’t be a reflection." I peered around the corner and all three of us saw what we could only describe as a "glowing" area on the pillowcase in the blue room where Lena Stillinger would have been sleeping over 90 years ago. I was astonished. I rushed back into the kitchen, packing things into my overnight bag. Linda and Jeff stood in the doorway of the blue room and shined a flashlight on the object and it disappeared from view. Then, in the darkness, it was visible again. When they asked if I was able to see it, I replied that I had, then urged them to leave.

Jeff wanted the camera and, and trying to sound calm despite my anxiety, I told him that it was packed away. They just stood there staring into the blue room. Exasperated, I found the camera and passed it over to him. He aimed the camera into the dark room, snapped the photo and looked at the display screen in disbelief. He and Linda rushed into the kitchen at about the same time, shoving the camera at me. The "glow" on the pillowcase wasn’t showing up but there was a huge, basketball sized "orb" in the picture. I heard Jeff say, "I think it wants us to get out."

I don’t remember even leaving the old Moore house that night, we’d departed in such a hurry. I do recall looking over my shoulder before we left and muttering sheepishly, "Ummm … sorry," unsure of the intended recipient.

Speeding down highway 34, I looked in the back seat and found my sister holding onto the balloon animal intended for the Stillinger children. I rolled down the window and littered it onto the highway somewhere just outside of Malvern, watching it blow away into the darkness.

A day later, we’d told the story several times, laughing about the pandemonium of scrambling our way out of the Villisca axe murder house into the relative comfort of darkness and fog in a town we didn’t know. Even now I have no explanation for some of the photos taken in the dark — grainy and out of focus but showing odd spherical-shaped objects seemingly floating in mid-air.

And in the meantime I’m reminded of Villisca, a quiet little place where most folks still don’t lock their doors at night. There’s a house in Villisca that some folks say is haunted...

Originally appearing in The Reader, 10/16/2002
Reprinted with the permission of the author