by Joe Nickell
REFERENCES
Anderson, Jack, and Jan Moller. 1996. Military psychic unit’s “hits” and misses. Washington Post, 30 December.
Christopher, Milbourne. 1970. ESP, Seers & Psychics. New York: Thomas Y. Crowell.
Graff, Dale E. 1998. Tracks in the Psychic Wilderness. Boston: Element. ---------- . 2000. River Dreams: The Case of the Missing General and Other Adventures in Psychic Research. Boston: Element.
Guiley, Rosemary Ellen. 1991. Harper’s Encyclopedia of Mystical & Paranormal Experience. New York: HarperCollins.
Hyman, Ray. 1996. Evaluation of the military’s twenty-year program on psychic spying. Skeptical Inquirer 20, no. 2 (March/April): 21-26.
Lamothe, John D. 1972. Controlled offensive behavior—USSR. Report for Defense Intelligence Agency.
Morehouse, David. 1996. Psychic Warrior: Inside the CIAs Stargate Program. New York: St. Martin’s Press.
Mumford, Michael D., et al. 1995. An evaluation of remote viewing: Research and applications. Prepared for the Central Intelligence Agency by The American Institutes for Research, 29 September.
Mysteries. 1998. “The Charlie Jordan Case” segment. BBC, aired 23 November.
Nickell, Joe, ed. 1994. Psychic Sleuths: ESP and Sensational Cases. Buffalo, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.
Ostrander, Sheila, and Lynn Schroeder. 1971. Psychic Discoveries Behind the Iron Curtain. New York: Bantam.
Schnabel, Jim. 1995. Tinker, tailor, soldier, psi. Independent on Sunday (London), 27 August, 10-11, 13.
———— . 1997. Remote Viewers: The Secret History of America’s Psychic Spies. New York: Dell.
Topping, Jane. 1999. Personal communication to Joe Nickell, 24 May, of BBC research notes following telephone interviews with Dale Graff and retired Customs official Bill Green.
10
Amityville
The Horror of It All
The best-selling book The Amityvillc Horror: A True Story (Anson 1977) was followed by a movie of the same title and a sequel, Amityville II: The Possession. Although the original proved to be a hoax, that fact does not seem well known to the general public. A book published in 2002 now sheds new light on the sordid affair and reviews the multiple-murder case that preceded it. Written by Ric Osuna, it is titled The Night the DeFeos Died: Reinvestigating the Amityville Murders.
The saga began on November 13,1974, with the murders of Ronald DeFeo Sr.; his wife, Louise; and their two sons and two daughters. The six were shot while they slept in their home in Amityville, New York, a community on Long Island. Subsequently the sole remaining family member—Ronald Jr., nicknamed “Butch” —confessed to the slaughter and was sentenced to 25 years to life in prison. Just two weeks after his sentencing, late the following year, George and Kathy Lutz and their three children moved into the former DeFeo home where—allegedly—a new round of horrors began.
The six-bedroom Dutch Colonial house was to be the Lutzes’ residence for only 28 days. They claimed they were driven out by sinister forces that ripped open a heavy door, leaving it hanging from one hinge; threw open windows, bending their locks; caused green slime to ooze from a ceiling; peered into the house at night with red eyes and left cloven-hoofed tracks in the snow outside; infested a room in mid-winter with hundreds of houseflies; and produced myriad other supposedly paranormal phenomena, including inflicting inexplicable, painful blisters on an investigating priest’s hands.
Local New York television’s Channel 5 “investigated” the alleged haunting by bringing in alleged psychics, together with “demonologist” Ed Warren and his wife, Lorraine, a professed “clairvoyant.” The group held a series of seances in the house. One psychic claimed to have been made ill and to “feel personally threatened” by shadowy forces. Lorraine Warren pronounced the presence of a negative entity “right from the bowels of the earth.” A further seance was unproductive, but the psychics agreed that a “demonic spirit” had possessed the house and recommended exorcism (Nickell 1995, 122-29).
In September 1977, the book called The Amityville Horror: A True Story appeared. Written by Jay Anson, a professional writer commissioned by Prentice-Hall to tell the Lutzes’ story, it became a runaway best-seller. Anson asserted: “There is simply too much independent corroboration of their narrative to support the speculation that they either imagined or fabricated these events,” although he conceded that the strange occurrences ceased after the Lutzes moved out.
Indeed, a man who later lived in the house for eight months said he had experienced nothing more horrible than a stream of gawkers who tramped onto the property. Similarly, the couple who purchased the house after it was given up by the Lutzes, James and Barbara Cromarty, poured ice water on the hellish tale. They confirmed the suspicions of various investigators that the whole story had been a bogus admixture of phenomena: part traditional haunting, part poltergeist disturbance, and part demonic possession, including elements that seemed to have been lifted from the movie The Exorcist.
Researchers Rick Moran and Peter Jordan (1978) discovered that the police had never been called to the house, and that there had been no snowfall when the Lutzes claimed to have discovered cloven hoof-prints in the snow. Other claims were similarly disproved (Kaplan and Kaplan 1995).
I talked with Barbara Cromarty on three occasions, including when I visited Amityville as a consultant to the In Search Of television series. She told me not only that her family had experienced no supernatural occurrences in the house, but also that she had evidence showing that the whole affair was a hoax. Subsequently, I recommended to a producer of the then-forthcoming TV series That’s Incredible, who had asked my advice about filming inside the house, that they have Mrs. Cromarty point out various discrepancies for close-up viewing. For example, recalling the extensive damage to doors and windows detailed by the Lutzes, she noted that the old hardware—hinges, locks, doorknob, and the like—were still in place. Upon close inspection, one could see that there were no disturbances in the original paint and varnish (Nickell 1995).
In time, Ronald DeFeo’s attorney, William Weber, told how the Lutzes had come to him after leaving the house, whereupon he had told them that their “experiences” could be useful to him in preparing a book. “We created this horror story over many bottles of wine that George Lutz was drinking,” Weber told the Associated Press. “We were creating something the public wanted to hear about.” Weber later filed a $2-million suit against the couple, charging them with reneging on their book deal. The Cromartys also sued the Lutzes, Anson, and the publishers, maintaining that the fraudulent haunting claims had resulted in sightseers destroying any privacy they might have had. During the trials, the Lutzes admitted that virtually everything in The Amityville Horror was pure fiction (Nickell 1995, Kaplan and Kaplan 1995).
Nevertheless, an astonishingly biased treatment of the case aired on ABC News’ Primetime on Halloween 2002. TV personality Elizabeth Vargas seemed bent on believing the discredited George Lutz and attacking—or ignoring—skeptics. My comments mostly ended up on the cutting-room floor. In one lost moment, I stated that the police had not been called to the house as the book claimed. Vargas—who was hostile to all my evidence—retorted that I did not know what I was talking about and that such a claim was not in the book, which she insisted she had just read. In fact, it is on page 157 of the original paperback edition (Anson 1977). (For more on Vargas’s pathetically credulous treatment of Amityville, see Christopher 2002.)
Now Ric Osuna’s The Night the DeFeos Died adds to the evidence. Ronald DeFeo’s wife, Geraldine, allegedly confirmed much of Weber’s account. To her, it was clear that the hoax had been planned for some time. Weber had intended to use the haunting claims to help obtain a new trial for his client (Osuna 2002, 282-86). As to George Lutz—now divorced from his wife and criticized by his former stepsons—Osuna states that “George informed me that setting the record straight was not as important as making money off fictional sequels.” Osuna details numerous contradictions in the story of which Lut
z continues to offer various versions (2002, 286-89).
For his part, Osuna has his own story to tell. He buys Ronald “Butch” DeFeo’s current story about the murders, assuring his readers that it “is true and has never been made public” (2002, 18, 22). DeFeo now alleges that his sister Dawn urged him to kill the entire family and that she and two of Butch’s friends also participated in the crimes. In fact, Butch maintains that Dawn began the carnage by shooting their domineering father with the .35-caliber Marlin rifle. Butch then shot his mother, whom he felt would have turned him in for the crime, but claims he never intended to kill his siblings. He left the house to look for one of his friends who had left the scene; when he returned to find that Dawn had murdered her sister and other two brothers, he was enraged. He fought with her for the gun and sent her flying into a bedpost where she was knocked out. He then shot her.
Osuna tries to make this admittedly “incredible” tale believable by explaining away contradictory evidence. Osuna accepts DeFeo’s claim that he altered the crime scene, and asserts that the authorities engaged in abuses and distortions of evidence to support their theory of the crimes. Even so, Osuna concedes that “Butch had offered several different, if ludicrous, versions of what had occurred” (2002, 33), and that he might again change his story. Nevertheless, Osuna asserts that “[t]oo much independent corroboration exists to believe it was just another one of his lies” (370).
I remain unconvinced. Butch DeFeo has forfeited his right to be believed, and his current tale is full of implausibilities and contradictions. Osuna appears to me simply to have become yet another of DeFeo’s victims.
REFERENCES
Anson, Jay. 1977. The Amityville Horror: A True Story. New York: Bantam Books.
Christopher, Kevin. 2002. The ABC-ville horror. Skeptical Inquirer 27, no. 1 (January/February): 53-54.
Kaplan, Stephen, and Roxanne Salch Kaplan. 1995. The Amityville Horror Conspiracy. Lacyville, Pa.: Belfrey Books.
Moran, Rick, and Peter Jordan. 1978. The Amityville Horror hoax. Fate (May): 44-46.
Nickell, Joe. 1995. Entities: Angels, Spirits, Demons, and Other Alien Beings. Amherst, N.Y.: Prometheus Books.
Osuna, Ric. 2002. The Night the DeFeos Died: Reinvestigating the Amityville Murders. N.p.: Xlibris.
11
Sideshow!
Investigating Carnival Oddities and Illusions
Like Robert Ripley, I have always been attracted to the odd and the curious. Growing up in a small town, 1 tried never to miss a visiting solo act—like an armless wonder or a bullwhip artist—who performed at the local ball park. I paid admission to countless magic, hypnotism, and spook shows, not to mention animal and juggling acts, that played in the school auditorium or the local theater. And I must have attended every carnival and circus that came around.
In 1969 I worked as a magic pitchman in the carnival at the Canadian National Exhibition. It was there that I met UE1 Hoppo the Living Frog Boy” and witnessed the transformation of “Atasha the Gorilla Girl,” who changed from beauty to beast before the eyes of frightened spectators (Nickell, 1970). During travels in Europe, Asia, and North Africa in 1970 and 1971, I beheld various street acts, including nighttime fire-breathing and Houdini-style chain-escape performances in Paris, a “dancing” bear in Istanbul, a little old wandering conjurer at the Pueblo Espanol in Barcelona, and a snake charmer and other entertainers at the Medina in Marrakech.
Barnum and Sideshows
Such street performances and performers hark back to the earliest form of what developed into the great English fairs of the early Renaissance. There, most of the “human curiosities” that later became fixtures of nineteenth-century American “freak shows” were exhibited (Bogdan 1990, 25). In late 1841, an itinerant showman named P. T. Barnum became the proprietor of the American Museum in New York City, an entertainment enterprise that had featured contortionists, a banjoist, a lady magician, a lecturer on animal magnetism, a Tattooed Man, and similar acts (Harris 1973, 40).
Barnum had earlier toured with Joice Heth, supposedly the 161-year-old former nurse of George Washington but actually an octogenarian fraud. After taking over the American Museum, he exhibited the “Feejee Mermaid,” billed as “the greatest Curiosity in the World” although it was only a monkey’s body grafted onto a fish’s tail (Harris 1973, 22, 62-67). Accusations of trickery only brought Barnum increased notoriety, and he soon schemed to have his bearded lady accused of being a man! A well-publicized medical examination helped boost cash receipts. When one visitor asked whether an exhibit was real or a humbug, Barnum replied, “That’s just the question: persons who pay their money at the door have a right to form their own opinions after they have got up stairs” (Harris 1973, 77).
Barnum exhibited increasingly diverse oddities, such as albinos, giants, dwarfs, and “The Highland Fat Boys,” along with ballets, dramas, magic shows, and “scientific demonstrations.” By the 1870s, dime museums (Barnum’s was 25 cents) began to proliferate, and “the human oddity was the king of museum entertainment” (Bogdan 1990, 32-33, 37). Traveling museums, linked to circuses as concessions, presaged the later “sideshows”—so named because they were separate from the main attraction.
Actually, a circus could have several sideshows, located in tents (or later trailers) on the midway, the place where the rides, shows, games, and refreshments are located. A carnival is essentially only a midway (Taylor 1997, 92-95).
The Ten-in-One
A major type of sideshow, often popularly called a freak show because human oddities were usually among the exhibits, was known to insider “carnys” as a “ten-in-one.” As its name indicated, it consisted of a number of acts, often arrayed along a platform, with the crowd moving from one to the other in sequence. Because such shows were typically continuous, if a spectator entered the tent during, say, the sword swallower’s performance, he or she would be led by the “lecturer” through the remaining nine (approximately) acts or features—magician, fat lady, giant, and so on. When the sword swallower was on again, that was the signal to exit the show.
At the end of each act or exhibit, spectators might be offered a “pitched” item to buy, such as a “true life” booklet or photograph. Frequently giants sold huge finger rings and midgets offered miniature Bibles. (I bought an autographed photo from “El Hoppo the Living Frog Boy” and an envelope of tricks from a magician.) Such an extra, inside sale is known as an “aftercatch” (Taylor 1997, 91). (See FIGURE 11-1.)
Meanwhile, outside, a “talker” (real carnys never use the term barker) was periodically drumming up a new crowd (or tip) of potential customers, usually with the assistance of one or more of the acts to provide a taste of what was inside. This external pitch was held on a “bally” platform, the name deriving from ballyhoo (meaning sensationalized promotion).
The oddities and exotic acts that were featured in ten-in-one shows were quite varied. In his book Monster Midway (1953, 102), William Lindsay Gresham discussed the traditional carny classification of human oddities, observing that “[i]n addition to a born, bona fide freak, the same show will sometimes feature ’made’ freaks and ’gaffed’ [fake] freaks, all scrambled together.” For the following discussion, I have subdivided the first category and added other nonoddity divisions in an attempt to provide a more complete classification of sideshow acts and exhibits. (Sideshow attractions like the Fun House are not included.)
FIGURE 11-1. Pitchcard of a sideshow snake charmer (author’s collection)
FIGURE 11-2 Carte de visite picture midjetTom Thumb’s 1863 wedding, promoted bu P.T Barum (author’s collection).
Oddities
One may think of “born” human oddities as of essentially two types. First is the more-or-less obvious anomaly. Examples include midgets like Barnum’s “Tom Thumb” (Charles Sherwood Stratton) and Lavinia Warren, who married in a highly promoted ceremony (Drimmer 1991, 172-82). (See FIGURE 11-2.) At the other end of that spectrum was Jack Earle, whose extreme height got him noticed by
a Ringling Brothers circus sideshow manager in the mid 1920s. “How would you like to be a giant?” the showman is said to have asked, indicating the important distinction between being merely noticeable and being a sideshow star. Earle soon became “The Texas Giant” (Bogdan 1990, 280).
Another example of the true type of oddity is conjoined twins, the result of incomplete separation of a single, fertilized egg. The most celebrated pair were Chang and Eng (1811-1874) who came from Siam and thus begat the term “Siamese twins.” They each eventually married, living in three-day shifts in their respective houses and fathering 21 children (Drimmer 1991, 3-27).
Sometimes the division of the single, fertilized egg that produces identical twins is even less complete than it was with Chang and Eng. The result can be any of varkious anatomical oddities, such as “The Two-Headed Boy”—actually the Tocci brothers (b. 1877), who were two individuals above the sixth rib but who shared a single body below. In some cases the incomplete division results in a normal-size body with a smaller, parasitic one—in whole or part—connected to it. Such was the case with “The Four-Legged Girl from Texas” (Myrtle Corbin), “The Man with Two Bodies” (Jean Libbera, b. 1884), and “The Girl with Four Legs and Three Arms” (Betty Lou Williams, d. 1955) (Drimmer 1991, 28-37; Parker 1997, 64).
Other genuine oddities include hirsute people like bearded ladies and “Lionel the Lion-faced Man,” whose face was entirely covered with long hair (Parker 1997, 92, 94), as well as various “Alligator Boys and Girls” afflicted with the skin condition ichthyosis. Still others, like “Leona the Leopard Girl,” were dark-skinned people with vitiligo, a lack of pigmentation that could appear as a pattern of white splotches over the body (Meah 1996, 120-22).