Episode Transcript
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SPEAKER_00 (00:08):
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(00:29):
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And now let's get into today'sstory.
It was a quiet summer night inVilleska, Iowa on 9th of June
1912.
The kind of night when the airsits still, farmhouses dim their
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lights, and the only sound isthe creak of old wood.
In that stillness, eight peoplewould be murdered inside a small
house with no clear motive andwith no one ever convicted.
This is the story of theVilliska Axe Murders.
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A case that would rattle thetown, haunt investigators, and
remain unsold for more than acentury.
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It sat in Montgomery County,Southwest Iowa, with about 2,500
residents.
It was the sort of place whereeverybody knew each other.
The town had grown steadilythanks to the railroad.
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Velisca was a stop on theChicago, Burlington, and Quincy
line, a route that broughtsteady business in the area.
Shops and hardware stores linedthe main street, and now local
farms could ship their goods farbeyond the county.
There was nothing unusual aboutVelisca, just another quiet town
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enjoying its share of earlycentury prosperity.
At 508 East 2nd Street stood amodest Queen Anne style house
built in 1867 with a slopingyard and a wraparound porch.
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That home would later be knownas the Moore House when Josiah
Beamore bought it in 1903.
Josiah was known as adependable, hardworking man, the
kind of businessman who wasn'tafraid to get his hands dirty.
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He ran a John Deere implementdealership and spent much of his
time on the road, traveling byhorse-drawn buggy to nearby
farms, fixing machines, shakinghands, and making cells.
Sarah was a homemaker, ateacher, and an organizer by
nature.
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She managed the family's meals,the housework, and much of the
local Presbyterian churchchildren's activities.
By 1912, the Moors had fourchildren, Herman, age 11, Mary,
age 10, Arthur, age 7, and Paul,age five.
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That Sunday in June in 1912, theday that would unknownly become
their last, was full of life andexcitement.
The family spent the afternoonat the Presbyterian church for
Children's Day, an earlycelebration that Sarah had
helped organize.
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After the service and a bit ofice cream with friends, the
children asked two of theirclassmates, Lena and Ina
Stillinger, to stay the night attheir house.
They had never slept away fromhome before, but their parents
agreed.
It was summer, and Villisca wasthe kind of town where nothing
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bad was supposed to happen.
That evening, the childrensettled in the bedrooms.
They talked and whispered,sharing the small secrets kids
do before falling asleep.
Downstairs, Josiah and Sarahfinished their nightly chores,
checked the doors and turned outthe lamps, and before long the
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house was quiet.
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The last train had passed, thelights along Main Street were
out, and the small white houseon East 2nd Street stood quiet
in the dark.
Inside, the Moore family wasasleep.
Josiah and Sarah slept upstairs.
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Across the hall, their childrenshared the other room, and
downstairs, Lena and Ina sleptin the front bedroom.
In that silence, sometime aftermidnight, someone stepped
quietly inside.
The intruder moved through thedark rooms, careful not to wake
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anyone.
He carried Josiah's own axe,taken from the shed outside.
He went first to the mainbedroom.
Josiah laid closest to the wall.
The first blow came fast andhard, crushing his skull before
he would even wake up.
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Sarah was next.
The killer struck again andagain.
Then he went to the children'sroom.
Each one was killed as theyslept.
None of them made a singlesound.
Downstairs slept Lena and Ina.
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When the intruder entered theirroom, Lena woke.
Her arm was raised, her bodyslightly turned, as if she'd
seen something move in the dark.
She may have caught a glimpse ofthe killer before the final blow
fell.
Ina never moved.
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When it was all over, the killerdidn't run.
He stayed in the house for awhile, covering mirrors with
cloth, drawing the curtains andlaying pieces of clothing over
each victim's face.
In the kitchen, he even prepareda meal, though he never ate it.
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When he finally left, he placedthe axe at the foot of the bed
and slipped out into the quietnight.
By morning, when the sun roseover East Second Street,
lightning the Moorhouse just asit always had inside, there was
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only silence and darkness.
The sun was already high, andneighbors were out attending
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gardens and feeding animals.
Next door, Mary Peckham noticedsomething odd.
The moorhouse was unusuallyquiet.
The blinds were still drawn, noone was outside, and Josiah
hadn't come out to do hismorning chores.
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At first, she thought they mightbe sleeping late after the long
church day before.
But as the morning went on, herconcern grew.
Around 8 a.m., she walked overand knocked on the door.
There was no answer.
She tried the handle, but it waslocked.
Even the barn was quiet with nosign of anyone moving inside.
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After checking around the houseand seeing that all the curtains
were closed, Mary decidedsomething wasn't right.
So she called Ross Moore,Josiah's brother.
When Ross arrived, he knockedagain and again before unlocking
the front door.
The smell hit him first.
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As he stepped into the house, hecalled out their names, but no
answer.
As he walked cautiously throughthe house and into the main
bedroom, when he opened thedoor, he saw something that no
one should ever have to see.
On the bed laid Josiah andSarah, both covered with sheets
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drenched in blood.
Ross then knew somethinghorrible had happened in the
house and rushed outside andshouted for Mary to call the
marshal.
When Marshal Hank Horton arrivedand he entered the house, what
he discovered was a bloodbath.
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Moving carefully from the mainbedroom, he found the children.
Each of them had been killed intheir beds.
All eight victims had beenstruck repeatedly with an axe.
Like any small town, word spreadthrough Villisca faster than
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anyone could control.
By noon, the house wassurrounded.
Curious townspeople gatheredoutside, whispering and weeping.
Some even ignored the marshal'swarning and rushed inside to see
for themselves.
It was a complete chaos.
Reporters, neighbors, even localofficials wandered through the
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crime scene, leaving footprintsand disturbing evidence.
In 1912, there was littleunderstanding of preserving a
scene, and the house quicklyfilled with the onlookers.
One witness later said, therewere so many people inside that
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morning.
The floorboards creaked underthe weight.
By that afternoon, the Moorehome had become both a place of
horror and one of an unspeakablecry.
And sadly, a source of morbidcuriosity.
The news would soon spread farbeyond Valesca to the Moines of
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Man in Chicago.
And the story of the smalltown's nightmare was only the
beginning.
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Neighbors, reporters, evenchildren had wandered through
the house before he was sealed.
Any evidence present in thehouse was now contaminated,
making any reconstruction farmore difficult.
Sheriff Oran Jackson and MarshalHenry Horton took charge of the
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case.
The axe left inside the house,though wiped clean, still showed
traces of blood and wasconfirmed to be Josiah's.
That meant the killer hadn'tbrought a weapon but had taken
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it from the shed sometime afterentering the house.
Medical examiner's reportindicated that all eight victims
were struck while they slept,though Lena showed a defensive
wound on her arm, suggesting shemight have woken up during the
attack.
The killer used the blunt sideof the axe, and the time of
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death was estimated to bebetween midnight and the early
morning hours.
Next, the sheriffs looked intothe odd state the house was left
in.
Every mirror had been covered,and all the curtains were drawn.
On the kitchen table,investigators found a bowl of
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uneaten food beside the slab ofbacon wrapped in cloth.
It seemed the killer had stayedin the house for some time after
the killing.
They also found a few otherstrange details.
Two cigarette butts werediscovered in the attic, leading
police to believe the killermight have waited there before
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the family came home that night.
A lamp was found near Josiah andSarah's bed, suggesting it had
been used to move through thehouse without casting much
light.
In the kitchen, a small bowl ofbloody water hinted that the
killer may have washed his handsbefore leaving.
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Each of these details paintedthe same picture, after
deliberately blungeoning eightpeople to death.
The killer appeared calm,deliberate, and unhurried.
Whoever had done this hadn'tfled in panic, they had taken
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their time.
With the crime scene leftunsealed and chaotic, crucial
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evidence was lost.
Reports later claimed that someof those who entered the house
even took pieces of the scene assouvenirs.
One man was said to have pickedup a fragment of Josiah's skull.
So, with little physicalevidence to rely on,
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investigators turned theirattention to people.
At that time, investigationoften meant Sheriff Warren
Jackson and a few local officerssitting in a room, trading
theories and compiling nameswith very little evidence.
Once the list of the suspect wasdrawn up, the search began, and
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over the months that followed,several people would fall under
suspicion.
Each seemed plausible for awhile until the evidence, or
luck of it, told a differentstory.
The first name to draw attentionwas Frank Jones, a respected
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businessman.
He had once employed Josiah athis hardware and implement store
before Josiah left to open hisown John Deere dealership.
When Josiah departed, he took amajor account with him, and in a
small town, that loss stung andpeople speculated that Jones had
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never forgiven him.
Some even believed that FrankJones had gone so far as to hire
a man to kill Josiah out ofrevenge.
That idea gained momentum when aprivate detective named James
Wilkerson from the BurnsDetective Agency arrived in
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town.
Convinced he could solve thecase, Wilkinson built an
elaborate theory linking FrankJones and a known criminal
called Mansfield.
He gathered witness statements,tracked down old co-workers, and
claimed Mansfield had been paidto commit these murders.
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Wilkinson pushed his theory sofar that a grand jury actually
indicted Mansfield.
But when the court examined theevidence, it fell apart.
Payroll records and witnesstestimony proved Mansfield had
been in Illinois that night,clocked in at a meat-packing
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plant miles away.
The charges were dropped,Mansfield was released, and
although Wilkinson'sinvestigation collapsed, he
refused to let it go, publishinga pamphlet accusing Jones of
political corruption in acover-up.
In the end, both Frank Jones andMansfield were cleared, and the
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case was no closer to beingsolved.
Then came Reverend George Kelly,a traveling preacher originally
from England.
He had been in Villisca thatsame weekend, attending the
Children's Day service at thePresbyterian Church, the one
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Sarah Moore helped organize andwhere her children performed.
Kelly was remembered as anervous, eccentric man, small in
stature, constantly talking andoften unsettling in manner.
The morning after the murders,he boarded the train out of
Villiska at 5:19 a.m.
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Passengers later recalled himpacing, mumbling scripture under
his breath and appearingrestless.
As investigators dug deeper, hisname came up again and again.
He seemed unusually fixated onthe case.
He even wrote to the police,reporters, and even the victim's
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relatives.
He also tried to obtain copiesof the autopsy report, claiming
it was for study.
Eventually, police tracked himdown and brought him in for
questioning.
During one interrogation, hegave what they described as a
confession where supposedly hesaid he had followed the Moore
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family home from church andentered their house after
midnight.
But his story shifted every timehe repeated it, changing details
about how, when, and why themurders happened.
Still, with no other strongsuspects and a confession on
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record, Reverend George Kellyquickly became the focus of the
investigation.
Authorities believed theyfinally had their mark.
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When investigators arrestedReverend George Kelly, it
finally felt to many like thecase was closing.
He wasn't just another suspect.
He seemed to fit what peopleimagined a killer to be.
Small, nervous, eccentric, witha strange way of speaking and an
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unsettling stare.
He was odd and people didn'tlike it.
But does being odd make someonea killer?
Still, there was one thing thatcouldn't be ignored.
He had been in Villisca thenight the murders took place.
He had attended the Children'sDay service at the Presbyterian
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Church, and witness confirmedthat he sat in the pews during
the event, quietly watching theservice.
Also, the next morning at 5a.m., he boarded an early train
out of town.
The timing alone was enough tomake people wonder, was he in a
rush to leave the scene of ahorrific crime he committed?
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There was also the fact that inthe months following the
murders, he became strangelyfixated on the case.
He wrote letters to the policeand to relatives of the victims.
And although this might havebeen dismissed as a morbid
fascination, after all, peoplehad been collecting pieces of
scalp from the crime scene onthat first day, many began to
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wonder if Kelly's obsession camefrom guilt.
So, with what they saw asmounting evidence pointing to
Reverend George Kelly,authorities finally built a case
against him.
His strange behavior, religiousoutburst, and the detailed
letters he sent were enough toraise serious suspicion.
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He was arrested in Connecticutand brought back to Iowa,
smiling for reporters andtelling them that God had shown
him the truth.
But whilst in custody, thattruth kept changing.
In one version, he said voiceshad told him to kill.
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In another, he claimed he'dblacked out and woken up covered
in blood.
Sometimes he even described thehouse and the victims in
incredible detail.
But it's unclear whetherauthorities overlooked the fact
that every one of those detailshad already been printed in the
newspapers he read every day.
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For them, it seemed simple.
They had their murderer, andthat murderer was Reverend
George Kelly.
The first trial began in RedOak, Iowa in September 1917,
five years after the murders.
Unsurprisingly, the courtroomwas full with townspeople and
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relatives of the victims.
The prosecution built its casealmost entirely around Kelly's
confession.
They called witnesses todescribe his strange behavior,
brought in handwriting experts,and presented train schedules to
show he had opportunity.
Their argument was simple.
He was a stranger, he was odd,and he had killed eight people
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before vanishing.
But the defense told a differentstory.
They argued that he was not akiller, but a man suffering from
severe mental illness, someonelost in his own world of visions
and fears.
They brought in witnesses whodescribed him as peculiar but
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harmless, prone to delusions andreligious ramblings.
Boarding house owners recalledhim pacing the halls at night,
and his former employersdescribed him as unstable but
never violent.
The key moment came when thedefense challenged his
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confession.
They showed that it had changedmultiple times and that police
had questioned him for hourswithout rest.
In one version, he entered thehouse through the front door, in
another, the back.
Sometimes he used the sharp edgeof the axe, sometimes the blunt
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side.
Even the order of the victimsshifted each time he was asked.
To the jury, it was becomingclear that this wasn't the
account of a cold-bloodedkiller, but the ramblings of a
confused and fragile man.
By the time they begandeliberating, his confession
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seemed unreliable, more theresult of exhaustion and
pressure than truth.
After several days, the verdictcame back.
A hung jury.
Two months later, a second trialbegan in November 1917.
This time, things went evenworse for the prosecution, which
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struggled to hold the jury'sattention.
The evidence was weak, GeorgeKelly's earlier confession had
been discredited, and hisbehavior after the murders now
seemed more like illness thanguilt.
When the trial ended, ReverendGeorge Kelly was acquitted.
He left Iowa soon after anddisappeared from public life.
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Some reports claimed he waslater institutionalized, while
others say he lived quietlyunder a different name.
No one else was ever charged forthe Velisca murders.
The families and the town hadwaited five long years for
justice and instead were leftwith debotched investigation and
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a suspect who seemed both toostrange and too fragile to be a
monster.
After the trials ended, Veliskanever felt the same.
People locked their doors, drewtheir curtains, and kept guns
under their beds for a townwhich once felt safe.
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Fear had settled in quicklyafter the murders and stayed.
Newspapers across the countrycalled it Murder Town, Iowa, and
reporters came from as far asChicago and New York, turning
Velisca into both a crime storyand a curiosity.
Soon after, tourists beganarriving on East 2nd Street,
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asking which house had belongedto the Moors.
And with that, the storiesbegan, some crazier than others,
but over the years,investigators and amateur slews
returned to the same names.
Frank Jones, the powerfulbusinessman with a feud to
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settle.
William Mansfield, the allegedhired killer with a matching
pattern of axe murders, andReverend George Kelly, the
strange nervous preacher whoconfessed and then recanted.
Modern researcher added anotherpossibility that Velisca was one
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of several linked axe murdersacross the Midwest, perhaps by a
single traveling serial killerwho moved by train.
Each theory explained somethingabout this horrific crime.
But never everything.
As the decades passed, the Moorehome stood empty for years
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before being restored in the1990s by Darwin and Martha Len
to its 1912 state, including thewallpaper, the lamps, even the
beds, exactly as they had beenthat night.
Today, it stands as a museum,and not only.
Visitors come from all over,historians, crime researchers,
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ghost hunters, and some saythey've heard footsteps in the
rooms.
Others swear they've seenshadows move across the upstairs
hall or heard children'slaughter carried through the
night.
The house has even been featuredin countless documentaries and
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even paranormal shows.
Whether you believe thosestories or not, Josiah and Sarah
Moore, Herman, Mary, Arthur andPaul, Lena and Ina, eight names,
each belonging to someone loved,someone missed, someone whose
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chance at a full life was takenaway.
We shall remember them not forhow they died, but for the
ordinary, peaceful life.
They should have continued tolive, and perhaps remembering
them is the only kind of justicestill possible.
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That brings us to the end ofthis episode of Clue Trail.
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Thank you for walking this trailwith me.
Until next time, stay safe, staycurious, and keep following the
clues.