June 30, 2025 • 40 mins
On a summer afternoon in Waterville, Maine, a man returned home to a chilling silence. What he found behind the door would alter the course of his life, and the town’s history, forever. What happened was only the beginning of a tragic story rooted in grief, misunderstood illness, and the haunting repetition of history.
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PODCAST PROMO -
Mortal Musings: Each week, your hosts Neil & Megan get into a true crime case or just a truly macabre story .Listen on all podcast platforms!
SHOW NOTES - https://morbidology.com/morbidology-podcast/
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Transcript
Episode Transcript
Available transcripts are automatically generated. Complete accuracy is not guaranteed.
Speaker 1 (00:50):
Water Villain, Maine is the kind of town that looks
like it was pulled from a faded postcard. Situated along
the banks of the Kennebec River, I grow from a
nineteenth century miltown into a place shaped by quiet industry
and small town rhythm. For generations, families built their lives
around the paper mills, the college on the hill, and
the rituals of everyday life. Waterville has always prided itself
(01:12):
on being a community where people know one another and
where the troubles of the outside world feel just a
little farther away. But like so many times across New England,
its charm is layered over something older and something darker.
Just a short drive south, in the state capital of Augusta,
stands the looming silhouette of the Augusta State Hospital. Opened
(01:33):
in eighteen forty, it was once one of the largest
psychiatric institutions in the country, a sprawling complex meant to
offer care and sanctuary that those deemed mentally ill, but
behind its brick walls and tall windows, the line between
treatment and containment often blurred. In the spring of nineteen
fifty four, a woman from Waterville was committed to the
hospital neighbors said that she adored her family. Doctors said
(01:57):
that she was insane. Back then, and in terms like
postpartum psychosis were barely understood, mothers were expected to cope,
to pray, to carry on, but nobody could have predicted
what would happen next. Constance Fisher was born on the
(02:27):
twenty sixth of March nineteen twenty nine. Her entry into
the world wasn't easy. She had been abandoned by her
birth parents and spent her earliest days in uncertainty, but
she was eventually adopted by the Serious family, a loving
home where she was treated as one of their own.
It was a fresh start and a second chance, but
tragedy struck. Constance's new mother, Rose died in the winter
(02:49):
of nineteen thirty two. Her father, Sylvia, was left alone
to raise her. He tried for a while before it
was decided that Constance would move in with the Marco family.
She grew into a sweding, quiet young woman with a
soft spoken nature and a deep longing to belong. She
was smart, smart enough to go to college, but she
knew that her parents couldn't afford that. She helped support
(03:12):
the family by working part time as a Baker's help
were along with her foster brother Robert. At seventeen years
old and still a high school student, Constance married Carl Fischer,
a World War Two veteran seven years her senior. Carlbin
in the Air Force and had contracted malaria and was wounded.
He had earned himself a medal. The pair build alive together,
(03:36):
rooted in hard work and traditional values. Cop provided, Constance
cared for the home. They had three children over the
next several years, Richard, Daniel, and Deborah. Then in early
nineteen fifty four, the family moved from Oakland to Waterville, Maine.
The move wasn't easy. They settled into a cramped second
floor aparliament with just five small rooms, but they made
(03:59):
it work. Corr picked up long shifts at the main
Central Railroad while Constance stayed home with the kids. To neighbors,
they seemed happy. Young Richard was enrolled in Sacred Heart
Parochial School, where he was trying his hardest to make
new friends. Constance was often seen doting on the children.
She never had a bad word to say about them,
(04:20):
and she assured them with hogs and kisses. She enjoyed
knitting the children their own clothing, as well as gifts
for friends and family. Karl's father would later recall, you
couldn't find a better mother than she's been to those children.
But all was not well inside that modest home. After
(04:51):
the birth of their third child, Deborah, Constance began to change.
She was constantly exhausted, overwhelmed by even the smallest of tasks.
Getting out of bed in the morning felt like climbing
a mountain. She worried obsessively. Was Debor sleeping enough with
the boys too noisy? Was she a bad mother? In
the nineteen fifties, the language we now use from maternal
(05:13):
mental health simply didn't exist. Terms like postpartum depression or
postpartum psychosis weren't part of the medical mainstream, let alone
public conversation. New mothers were expected to bounce back, smile,
and carry on, but Constance couldn't. She eventually visited doctor
Richard Chase, the same doctor who had delivered baby Deborah.
(05:37):
He diagnosed her with hypochromic anemia, a condition that can
result in fatigue, weakness, and critically symptoms resembling clinical depression.
Doctor Chase prescribed her a regiment of high iron mails
and weakly injections full of G acid and B twelve,
and for a time it worked. Constance's energy returned, and
(05:57):
so did the sense of normalcy. But it wasn't to last.
By late nineteen fifty three, not long after she waned
Deborah from breast fighting, Constance's health and mental state began
to spiral once more. The crying of the baby pierced
her like a needle. The barking dog sent her into
a panic. Even the sound of Karl opening a beer
(06:19):
after work seemed unbearable. The stress was mounting. Constance even
had Karl shoot and kill the dogs, the family pets.
Christmas was fast approaching and the fishes were broke. Carr
was working as much as he could, but money was
still short. Constance, who was already fragile, felt hopeless. She
(06:39):
worried constantly about the children's Christmas, about disappointing them, about
feeling them. She spent most days crying in bed. Then
the voices started. It was a man's voice, calm and clear.
He told her that there was only one way out
of this suicide. At first, Constance tried to resist. She
(07:00):
fought back, kept it buried, But as the days passed,
the voice changed. It grew darker, more insistent. It told
her that it wasn't just her. The only true escape,
the only way to spare her family from the pain
she believed she was causing, was for them all to die.
(07:32):
It was early January of nineteen fifty four when Constance
Fisher found herself holding a nylon scarf. Her baby girl, Deborah,
was lying on the bed. Constance leaned over and began
to wrap the scarf and round the infant's tiny neck.
She began to tighten it, but then Deborah cried. Something
in that moment broke through the fog. Constance stopped. She
(07:55):
stared down at her baby girl in horror, the weight
of what she'd almost done crashing down on her like
a tidal wave. Shaking, she ran to the phone and
called Karl at work. She begged him to come home.
Carl ursh back immediately. That moment marked the beginning of
a downward spiral that nobody could stop. Today, we understand
(08:15):
that postpartum depression effects roughly one in seven women. In
some cases, it progresses to postpartum psychosis, a rare but
devastating condition that can include illucinations, delusions, paranoia, and suicidal thoughts.
It can make the unthinkable feel rational. But in nineteen
fifty four, those were not the conversations that people were having.
(08:37):
There was no screening, no awareness, no safety net. A
mother struggling with darkness was expected to just endure it.
Cowfisher stood by his wife. He didn't understand what was
happening to her, but he knew that she was hurting,
and he knew she needed help. Car brought Constants back
to see doctor Chase, the same doctor who had previously
(08:59):
treated her an amia. This time, the diagnosis was less physical.
He prescribed Constance's as sedative to help her sleep, and
fenobarbidal were barbituate to ease her daytime anxiety. In his
medical report, he wrote, I told her that if any
more trouble in this manner developed, we would have her
see a specialist for nervous diseases, to which she agreed.
(09:21):
Even that phrasing nervous diseases speaks volumes about how pearly
understood mental illness was In mid twenty eighth century America, Depression, psychosis,
and postpartum struggles weren't classified the way they are today.
The stigma was enormous, and the treatments were often little
more than guesswork, but for a time, things did seem
(09:41):
to get better. Constance began finding joy again in small,
familiar pleasures. She started reading books again. She curled up
with the family's new black and white television set. She
even began going shopping with her sisters and mother, small
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(10:03):
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Speaker 2 (11:33):
Lads, do you enjoy getting traumatized on a weekly basis, Well,
neither does my co host Neil.
Speaker 3 (11:42):
People call me a victim Marvin a co host.
Speaker 2 (11:45):
Anyway, Welcome to the Mortal Music's podcast. I'm your host Megan.
Each week we dive into truly dark and disturbing cases.
Do you ever find yourself listening to these horrific tales
and saying to yourself.
Speaker 3 (11:58):
Huh no, huh, Well, the actual why why did you
do that? Solved? It may there's no need for that.
They're just acting the box.
Speaker 2 (12:07):
Our episodes include cases of serial killers, the story of
a socialite that was held captive for twenty five years,
prison riots, wrongful executions, and scandals in the death industry.
At the end of each episode, we throw in a
tale of oddity, anything from medical mishaps to the real
life Weekend at Bernie's or Mike the Headless Chicken. New
(12:30):
episodes every Wednesday, available wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker 3 (12:35):
And remember here at the Martel Musings podcast would like
to take the cases seriously, but not ourselves.
Speaker 1 (12:52):
By Forebruy of nineteen fifty four, she returned to doctor
Chase and told them that she was doing much better.
She was sleeping, eating, the suicidal thoughts and the urges
to harm her family were gone. She underwent the physical exam,
which revealed that her neme had returned, just like before.
She was prescribed iron rich foods vitamin injections, and dress.
(13:14):
She also saw another doctor, doctor Loring Pratt, about an
ear infection. He found that she was suffering from psoriasis,
a skin condition that had infected her ears. He prescribed
the special shampoo, but warned her the formula included a
toxic ingredient. It had to be used with care. Things
(13:41):
on the surface seemed to be returning to normal. Carl,
encouraged by Constance's progress, took a second job to cover
the growing pile of medical bills. He was determined to
do whatever it took to keep his family afloat. But
he couldn't have known that the very medications meant to
help Constans were creating new dangers. On the night of
(14:02):
the eleventh of February, just days after her optimistic report
from doctor Chase, Constance swallowed the remainder of the bottle
a fen of barbital. Caul came home to find her unconscious. Panicked.
He called the doctor, who administered an antidote. It worked
and Constance survived. But the next morning, when doctor Chase
(14:23):
returned to check on her, Constance explained her thinking she
had been feeling depressed again. She said, and if a
little bit of the medication helped that maybe taking a
lot would help even more. That moment should have been
a red flag, a glaring sign that Constance was deteriorating again,
but the warning signs were brushed aside. Shortly after Constance
(14:46):
was referred to psychiatrist doctor Paul Holmes. She spoke to
him about her suicidal thoughts, and she opened up about
her mental health, and yet he dismissed her concerns with
the stunning lack of insight. He told her, those who
talk about ending their own lives rarely do. Go home
and keep on with your work as a wife and mother.
(15:07):
That advice, which was a mirror of the Air's mindset,
was both outdated and dangerous, and tragically common. No one
was asking the bigger questions. Nobody was listening. After Constance's
overdose and the psychiatric's dismissal, her mental health began to
unravel quickly. The moments of peace that had given Karl
(15:27):
hope were disappearing. Constance spent more and more time alone withdrawn.
She'd stop confiding in other people. The voices were back,
and now they were louder and different. They weren't just
in truce of thoughts anymore. Constance came to believe that
the voice she was hearing was God. Karl noticed, He
(15:49):
saw the change in her demeanor and the distant look
in her eyes. He begged her to consider going to
a psychiatric hospital, but Constance refused. She didn't believe that
a haspital could help her. She was terrified of being
taken away. She worried about who would care for the children,
and perhaps, deep down, she feared what might happen if
(16:10):
she set out loud what she was really hearing, Because
how do you tell somebody that God is speaking to
you and telling you that your family would be better
off dead. March eighth, nineteen fifty four started out like
(16:33):
any other Monday for the Fisher family in Waterville, Maine. Outside,
the snow was falling. It had been falling for days now,
blanketing the quiet town in white. Inside the apartment, Carl
woke early. He made his breakfast and packed his lunch.
He waited in the kitchen, sipping its coffee, listening for
the first sounds of little feet. As usual, it was
(16:56):
Richard who woke up first, the oldest, who is now
six years old, with green eyes and a love for cartoons.
He liked to sit close to the television before the
skill bus came, legs holded underneath him, eyes wide. Daniel,
the middle child, was next. He was now four years old. Deborah,
the baby, still just sixteen months old, stayed asleep beside
(17:18):
her mother in the bedroom crib. Call me a breakfast
for the boys, toast and cereal. He moved through the
motions of fatherhood with ease. He was used to doing
a bit of everything, especially lately. He'd taken the previous
week off work. Constance hadn't been doing too well, but
they had weathered these storms before. Carl had wanted to
(17:41):
stay longer, to keep watch a few more days, but
money was tied and the bills were mounting. Carl stepped
into the bedroom with a cup of coffee in hand.
Constance was just waking up. She looked rested for once.
She smiled softly and said to her husband, I feel finel.
I had a good night's sleep for the first time
(18:02):
in weeks. It's okay. The kids and I will be fine,
and Carl believed her. He kissed her forehead, ruffled Daniel's
hair on his way out of the door, and went
to work. Carl returned home at about four pm. The
(18:27):
sky was already beginning to darken more snow was falling.
As he approached the apartment. Something struck him as ought
the lights were off. When he reached the front door,
he found that it was unlocked. He pushed it open.
The apartment was silent, too, silent. No cartoons on the television,
(18:47):
no pots or pants clattering in the kitchen, no giggles
or footsteps or fights over toys. Carl's footsteps echoed as
he moved through the hallway. He called out for Constance
and for the kids, but there was no answer. He
stepped into the children's bedroom. The door was half open
through a narrow gap. He could see Daniel lying on
(19:09):
his bed. He called his name, but there was no reply.
Carl rushed to his son's side. Daniel wasn't sleeping. He
was cold to the touch. He was dead. Panic rose
in Carl's chest as he stumbled into the bathroom and
looked towards the tub. It was filled with water. Floating
(19:32):
in it was the body of six year old Richard.
Carl screamed. He ran through the apartment, yelling for Constance.
The door to the master bedroom was locked. He slammed
his shoulder into it, over and over until it cracked open.
The bed was empty, but Deborah was in the crib.
(19:53):
Her tiny body was still She was dead as well.
Carl tore through the apartment, screaming for Constance, but she
was nowhere to be found. Then he spotted a folded
piece of paper on the table. It was a letter
from Constance. It sat beside the family's bible. It read
(20:14):
it was so hard, but God told me it was
the only way I could save them there in heaven,
save forever from evil. I hope you will forgive me,
Please forget all about us. Maybe you don't think I
loved them. I did. Oh, I did. My heart is breaking.
I loved you and I loved them. There was another
note beside it. Constance had written instructions for their burial.
(20:38):
She wanted to be buried with Deborah, and she wanted
the boys laid to rest together. It was a goodbye,
a confession, and a suicide note all in one. Karl
stumbled to the telephone. His hands were shaking as he
called for help. Within minutes, police cars tore through the
snow covered streets of waterfill, sirens screaming lights flash against
(21:00):
the white officers emeriks flooded the apartment, shocked by the
horrific scene inside. Three children gone, a mother missing, and
a father standing in the middle of his living room
holding a note in his trembling hands, asking the one
question that nobody could yet answer, Where was Constance Fisher.
(21:26):
When first responders arrived at the Fisher apartment, they sprang
into action. Paramedics attempted to revive the children, Daniel, Richard
and little Deborah, but it was already too late. Each
of them was pronounced dead at the scene. As police
began documenting the grim surroundings, taking photographs, collecting evidence, somebody
(21:48):
heard a sound. It was a faint rustling coming from
the master bedroom. Carl had checked the room earlier and
it was empty other than from Deborah in her crib.
But when officers entered this time, they looked beneath the bed.
That's where they found her, Constance. She was wrapped tightly
in a blanket, curled beneath the mattress, as if hiding
(22:10):
from the world. Her eyes were half open. She was
semi conscious. Next year, lay a nearly empty bottle of
medicated shampoo, the one she had been prescribed for a
skin condition. A few weeks earlier, the doctor had warned
her to avoid ingesting it, saying that it was potentially dangerous.
Constance believed that it was poison. She had swallowed it
(22:33):
in a final act of desperation, believing that it would
kill her. It didn't. The shampoo wasn't lethal. It left
her dazed, nauseus, but alive. She lay beneath the bed,
waiting for death, but death never came. Police helped her
up and walked her out of the apartment. She didn't resist.
(22:54):
There were no questions, no tears, just a quiet, dreamlike compliance.
Constance was into the police station, and that's when the
story began to unfold. At first, she said nothing. She
sat silently in the small windowless room. She appeared to
be in a state of shock, But slowly she began
to talk. She didn't deny what had happened. She didn't
(23:16):
try to shift the blame. Instead, she spoke plainly. She
told detectives that shortly after Carl left for work that morning,
and after Richard had gone off to school, she ran
a bath for Daniel. She brought him into the bathroom,
undressed him, and helped him into the warm water. She
played with him. She held him, She hugged him, Then
(23:39):
she pressed his head beneath the water. She held him
there until he stopped moving. When it was over, she
wrapped him in a blanket and carried him back to bed,
letting him down as if he were simply sleeping. Then
she did the same with Deborah, her baby still in diapers,
barely able to talk. She carried her to the tub,
(24:00):
drew another bath, and did it all again. By the
time Richard returned home from school, his siblings were already gone.
He didn't know. He walked through the front door, probably
dropped his back pack in the hallway. Constance met him
with a soft voice and told him that it was
bath time. She led him into the bathroom. He stepped
into the tub, but he could tell that something was wrong.
(24:23):
When she reached for him, he resisted. He struggled and
begged stop at mommy, stop it, but she held him down.
She said that he fought harder than the others, so
she climbed into the tub with him and held him tighter.
As he thrashed and gasped and called for her. She
whispered softly, It'll be all right, son. Soon you'll be
(24:44):
in heaven. When it was dawne she left him in
the water. As she gave her statement to detectives, Constance
kept repeating one thing God told me to do it,
she told the detectives. Children don't suffer when they die.
Detectives asked if she had planned on taking her own
life as well, and she said yes. In fact, she
(25:05):
had even planned to kill Karl as well. She had
taken a gun from her family's home several weeks earlier
and had hidden it, but when she looked for it
that afternoon, she couldn't find it. That's when she drank
the shampoo. Constance said she thought that it would be enough.
It burnt her throat and made her dizzy, but it
didn't kill her, so she wrapped herself in a blanket,
(25:27):
crawled beneath the bed, and waited. When asked if she
had regretted what she'd done, Constance didn't hesitate. She said
her only regret was that her children had died and
she had survived. The very next morning, Constance Fisher appeared
(25:53):
in court where she was formerly charged with three counts
of murder. Standing before the judge, she pleaded not guilty.
She didn't cry. She didn't speak. She was then ordered
to be held without bailing, committed to the Augustus State
Psychiatric Hospital for observation. In the court room, just feet
away from where Constance stood was her husband, to Carl,
(26:13):
the man who had kissed his children good bye that
morning and returned home to find them all gone. He
sat silently staring ahead. It was the face of a
man who had just lost everything. The murder sent shockwaves
through the community of Waterville, Maine. Those who knew Constance
struggled to believe it. She had always been seen as sweet,
(26:34):
devoted and adoring mother. Most people who knew the family
had no clue that she was struggling. Then, on the
eleventh of March, Richard, Daniel, and Deborah were laid to rest.
The funeral was held that Sacred Heart Church. The elementary
school where Richard had been a student, closed early so
that his classmates could attend the service. Three small caskets
(26:58):
stood at the front of the altar. During the eulogy,
Reverend John Holahan compared the children to angels. Karl sat
in the front pieu, his head, bowed, his hands trembling.
After the service, the children were buried in the family
law at Saint Francis Cemetery. While Carl mourned, Constance was
(27:18):
undergoing psychiatric evaluation at the State Hospital. Doctors quickly diagnosed
her with paranoid schizophrenia. She spoke of hearing voices, of
divine visions, of messages she believed were being sent by God.
To one psychiatrist, she admitted, I wanted somebody to baby me.
(27:39):
It was a fragile, childlike admission, a glimpse into the
lonely world inside her mind. At the time, the treatment
for schizophrenia was primitive at best and brutal at worst.
One of the primary methods was insolent shock therapy. Patients
were injected with high doses of insulin to induce a
coma or even seizures. The idea was to reset the brain,
(28:02):
but the procedure was dangerous and his time would show
largely ineffective. Eventually it would be abandoned altogether. Yet, despite
the horse treatments, life for Constance and Augusta wasn't entirely bleak.
She enrolled in ballet classes, She played softball with other patients.
She joined the hospital drama group. Constance, by all accounts,
(28:24):
was thriving and Through it all, Karl remained by her side.
He didn't abandon her. He visited her often, sat with her,
talked about their future. He believed deeply that what had
happened wasn't her fault. She had been sick and now
she was getting better. After a year of treatment, doctor
(28:44):
saw significant progress. The voices were gone, the visions had faded.
Constance was calm, co operative, and kind. By nineteen fifty five,
Karl began the legal process to bring his wife back home,
but the road to release would be easy. At the
first hearing in nineteen fifty seven, doctors advised against it.
(29:05):
They said she wasn't ready. Carl and Constance were disappointed,
but they didn't give up, and their patients eventually paid off.
In nineteen fifty eight, psychiatrists testified that Constance had not
shown any signs of psychosis in years. She was stable, safe,
and then in nineteen fifty nine, the timing aligned with
the national movement, a push to the institutionalized psychiatric patients
(29:29):
and transitioned them back into the community. Doctors concluded that
Constance Fisher no longer posed a threat to herself for
anybody else. She would be released in May of nineteen
fifty nine, Carl drove to the hospital. He picked up
Constance and brought her home. He had built them a
new home along Ohio Hill Road, a fresh start, a
(29:51):
clean slate. Together they were going to rebuild, and indeed
they did. They had three more children, Natalie, Michael, and Kathleen.
But some cracks can't be smoothed over, and some tragedies
never really end. The front page of the Flint Journal
(30:21):
on the first of July nineteen sixty six carried a
chilling headline, nineteen fifty four triple drowning and family is repeated.
Twelve years had passed, a new house, a new life,
a second chance. But on the final day of during
that year, Carl Fischer stepped through his front door and
(30:41):
found himself trapped in a living nightmare, a mirror image
of the one he thought he had left behind. In
the bathroom, nine month old Natalie was floating, faced down
in just an inch and a half of water. Carl
didn't check the rest of the house. He didn't need to.
He bowled outside and ran to the home of a neighbor,
(31:02):
Howard would begging to use the telephone. He couldn't go
back inside because steep down. Carl knew what he would find.
When police arrived at the scene, they moved from room
to room. In one of the bedrooms, they found four
year old Michael and six year old Kathleen tucked neatly
into their beds. They looked as though they were sleeping,
(31:24):
but they weren't. All three children had been drowned. Constance
was found in her own bed, unconscious. She had taken
an overdose of prescription pills in an effort to end
her life. Clutched tightly in her arms were two images
of Jesus Christ. Beside her l a note which read,
I hope you understand. It's the only way I could
(31:45):
be sure they would go to heaven. Constance was rushed
to fail her hospital in Waterville, where doctors were able
to see of her life, but this time Constance wouldn't
return home. She was charged once again with three counts
of mr To detective, she explained, softly, I've had trouble.
(32:05):
I can't take care of the baby, and now they're
all in heaven. In the weeks leading up to the murders,
Constance's mental state had been deteriorating. She had become withdrawn.
She spoke of an impending doom and inescapable darkness. The
voices had returned. They warned her about the end of
(32:25):
the world, and she believed that God was speaking to
her again, telling her what had to be done, that
her children's salvation depended on her. Karl had noticed the
signs again and had taken Constance to doctor Price Kirkpatrick.
She was prescribed medication, but the tragedy couldn't be stopped.
(32:46):
As doctor Kirkpatrick later commented, by our present knowledge, this
tragedy could not have happened if she had taken the
drug properly. On the fourth of July, there was another funeral.
Three small caskets were lowered into the ground Saint Francis Cemetery.
They were placed in the same family plot as Richard,
Daniel and Deborah, siblings they never met. Constance was recommitted
(33:10):
to the Augustus State Hospital. She stayed there for six
months before doctors ruled her competent to stand trial. She
faced three kinds of murder, and once again she pleaded
not guilty by reason of insanity. As the indictments were
read aloud, Constance began sobbing uncontrollably. It was a scene
that was as familiar as it was tragic. Doctor testified
(33:35):
that she had suffered another full blown psychotic break. Doctor
Walter Rohm of the Augusta State Hospital took the stand.
He said he diagnosed Constance with chronic schizophrenia. He said
that the illness left her with a basic feeling of
hopelessness to spare and pessimism. Despite the prosecution's attempts to
have her convicted, the court agreed with the defense. Constance
(33:59):
Fisher was found not guilty by reason of insanity for
the second time. She was spared prison, but she was
committed indefinitely, and again Carl stood by her side. He visited,
He held her hand, He spoke about the life they
could still have together. This time, there would be no
(34:19):
more children. They were too old for that, not anyway,
But the weight of grief is corrosive, and even the
deepest love has its limits. By October of nineteen seventy three,
seven years after the second tragedy, Karl stopped visiting altogether.
Their conversations faded to silence, and Constance was left alone
(34:42):
alone with her thoughts, her faith, and her ghosts. On
the first of October nineteen seventy three, Constance Fisher slipped
away unnoticed. She walked quietly off the grounds of the
Augusta State Hospital. She had grounds privileges, freedom to walk
(35:06):
the gardens, the lawns, and the perimeter, but no permission
to leave. At two fifteen pm, she was reported missing.
There was no panic, no urgent alarm. Her treatment team
had assessed her and they said she wasn't a danger
to others, but she could be a danger to herself,
and they were right. State and local police launched a search.
(35:29):
They scarred the hospital grounds, combed nearby woods, followed the
river banks, but there was no sign of Constance. On
the third day, Augusta State Hospital Superintendent Roy Edinger told
the press, there are no leeds known to us yet.
We've had no reports of anyone spotting her, but were
still looking. They would search for eight long days. Then,
(35:51):
on the seventh of October, a group of dock hunters
saw something in the water. It was floating in the
Kennebec River near Gardiner, around seven miles from the hospital.
It was Constance Fisher. She had died the very same
day she walked away. After her body was recovered, outraged
spread main State Senator Walter Hitchins called the past system
(36:14):
at the hospital irresponsible. He stated Constance would still be
alive if not for that system. The policy has allowed
her to wander freely unsupervised, offering a narrow window for escape.
But there was something else, a darker irony. At the
time of her disappearance, Constance had been immersed in an
(36:35):
aggressive psychiatric program, part of a progressive approach to mental
health care. She was receiving group therapy, behavioral therapy, and
something called MLLEU therapy. Milieu therapy was built on an
idealistic foundation. It c centered on the idea that a
person's environment, their surroundings, their relationships, their structure could be
(36:57):
engineered to promote healing. Patients were given more autonomy, more
participation in their own care. They were encouraged to take
responsibility for their lives. Again, it was a compassionate concept,
but it carried a risk. The superintendent explained. The risk
of every active treatment program is that the intensity it
develops increases the chance a participant will commit suicide. In fact,
(37:22):
over the past decade, an average of two impatients a
year who escaped during treatment took their own lives. Yet
The superintendent defended the system, stating, during the past two years,
we've had one thousand patients return to community life, and
regarding Constance, he said, there was no way of predicting
that this could have occurred. I think our staff handled
(37:44):
her case well. On the ninth of October, Constance Fisher
was led to rest. Her funeral was short and sweet,
held at Saint Bridget's Church. There were no large crowds,
no headlines, just a small service, a wooden casket, a
final prayer. Afterwards, she was buried in the family plot,
(38:06):
the same place where six small bodies had already been buried,
and a headstone which bore the names of all the
children she had loved and lost and killed. They were
all together now, a mother and her children were united
in death. Seventeen years later, in ninety ninety, Carl Fischer died.
The man who had once stood by Constance through two
(38:28):
imaginable tragedies, the man who had watched his entire family vanish,
the man who had hoped desperately to begin again. He
was buried beside them. He was no longer haunted by
the past and what ifs. He was no longer alone,
just one grave now one name, one family, Well, Bessie's.
(39:20):
That is it for this episode of Morbidology. As always,
thank you so much for listening, and I'd like to
say a massive thank you to my newest supporter up
on Pittreon Ruse. Morbiology is just a one woman podcast,
so the support up on their seriously ghosts along way.
In exchange for your support, to upload ad free and
early release episodes behind the scenes, and there's also a
bunch of bonus episodes of Morbidology plus that aren't on
(39:42):
the regular podcast platforms. You can join for as little
as one dollar a month. From there are absolutely new obligations.
You can cancel your subscription at any time. I'm going
to check us out at morbidology dot com for more
information about this episode and to read some trick crime articles.
Until next time, take care of your selves, stay safe,
and have an amazing week.
Water Villain, Maine is the kind of town that looks
like it was pulled from a faded postcard. Situated along
the banks of the Kennebec River, I grow from a
nineteenth century miltown into a place shaped by quiet industry
and small town rhythm. For generations, families built their lives
around the paper mills, the college on the hill, and
the rituals of everyday life. Waterville has always prided itself
(01:12):
on being a community where people know one another and
where the troubles of the outside world feel just a
little farther away. But like so many times across New England,
its charm is layered over something older and something darker.
Just a short drive south, in the state capital of Augusta,
stands the looming silhouette of the Augusta State Hospital. Opened
(01:33):
in eighteen forty, it was once one of the largest
psychiatric institutions in the country, a sprawling complex meant to
offer care and sanctuary that those deemed mentally ill, but
behind its brick walls and tall windows, the line between
treatment and containment often blurred. In the spring of nineteen
fifty four, a woman from Waterville was committed to the
hospital neighbors said that she adored her family. Doctors said
(01:57):
that she was insane. Back then, and in terms like
postpartum psychosis were barely understood, mothers were expected to cope,
to pray, to carry on, but nobody could have predicted
what would happen next. Constance Fisher was born on the
(02:27):
twenty sixth of March nineteen twenty nine. Her entry into
the world wasn't easy. She had been abandoned by her
birth parents and spent her earliest days in uncertainty, but
she was eventually adopted by the Serious family, a loving
home where she was treated as one of their own.
It was a fresh start and a second chance, but
tragedy struck. Constance's new mother, Rose died in the winter
(02:49):
of nineteen thirty two. Her father, Sylvia, was left alone
to raise her. He tried for a while before it
was decided that Constance would move in with the Marco family.
She grew into a sweding, quiet young woman with a
soft spoken nature and a deep longing to belong. She
was smart, smart enough to go to college, but she
knew that her parents couldn't afford that. She helped support
(03:12):
the family by working part time as a Baker's help
were along with her foster brother Robert. At seventeen years
old and still a high school student, Constance married Carl Fischer,
a World War Two veteran seven years her senior. Carlbin
in the Air Force and had contracted malaria and was wounded.
He had earned himself a medal. The pair build alive together,
(03:36):
rooted in hard work and traditional values. Cop provided, Constance
cared for the home. They had three children over the
next several years, Richard, Daniel, and Deborah. Then in early
nineteen fifty four, the family moved from Oakland to Waterville, Maine.
The move wasn't easy. They settled into a cramped second
floor aparliament with just five small rooms, but they made
(03:59):
it work. Corr picked up long shifts at the main
Central Railroad while Constance stayed home with the kids. To neighbors,
they seemed happy. Young Richard was enrolled in Sacred Heart
Parochial School, where he was trying his hardest to make
new friends. Constance was often seen doting on the children.
She never had a bad word to say about them,
(04:20):
and she assured them with hogs and kisses. She enjoyed
knitting the children their own clothing, as well as gifts
for friends and family. Karl's father would later recall, you
couldn't find a better mother than she's been to those children.
But all was not well inside that modest home. After
(04:51):
the birth of their third child, Deborah, Constance began to change.
She was constantly exhausted, overwhelmed by even the smallest of tasks.
Getting out of bed in the morning felt like climbing
a mountain. She worried obsessively. Was Debor sleeping enough with
the boys too noisy? Was she a bad mother? In
the nineteen fifties, the language we now use from maternal
(05:13):
mental health simply didn't exist. Terms like postpartum depression or
postpartum psychosis weren't part of the medical mainstream, let alone
public conversation. New mothers were expected to bounce back, smile,
and carry on, but Constance couldn't. She eventually visited doctor
Richard Chase, the same doctor who had delivered baby Deborah.
(05:37):
He diagnosed her with hypochromic anemia, a condition that can
result in fatigue, weakness, and critically symptoms resembling clinical depression.
Doctor Chase prescribed her a regiment of high iron mails
and weakly injections full of G acid and B twelve,
and for a time it worked. Constance's energy returned, and
(05:57):
so did the sense of normalcy. But it wasn't to last.
By late nineteen fifty three, not long after she waned
Deborah from breast fighting, Constance's health and mental state began
to spiral once more. The crying of the baby pierced
her like a needle. The barking dog sent her into
a panic. Even the sound of Karl opening a beer
(06:19):
after work seemed unbearable. The stress was mounting. Constance even
had Karl shoot and kill the dogs, the family pets.
Christmas was fast approaching and the fishes were broke. Carr
was working as much as he could, but money was
still short. Constance, who was already fragile, felt hopeless. She
(06:39):
worried constantly about the children's Christmas, about disappointing them, about
feeling them. She spent most days crying in bed. Then
the voices started. It was a man's voice, calm and clear.
He told her that there was only one way out
of this suicide. At first, Constance tried to resist. She
(07:00):
fought back, kept it buried, But as the days passed,
the voice changed. It grew darker, more insistent. It told
her that it wasn't just her. The only true escape,
the only way to spare her family from the pain
she believed she was causing, was for them all to die.
(07:32):
It was early January of nineteen fifty four when Constance
Fisher found herself holding a nylon scarf. Her baby girl, Deborah,
was lying on the bed. Constance leaned over and began
to wrap the scarf and round the infant's tiny neck.
She began to tighten it, but then Deborah cried. Something
in that moment broke through the fog. Constance stopped. She
(07:55):
stared down at her baby girl in horror, the weight
of what she'd almost done crashing down on her like
a tidal wave. Shaking, she ran to the phone and
called Karl at work. She begged him to come home.
Carl ursh back immediately. That moment marked the beginning of
a downward spiral that nobody could stop. Today, we understand
(08:15):
that postpartum depression effects roughly one in seven women. In
some cases, it progresses to postpartum psychosis, a rare but
devastating condition that can include illucinations, delusions, paranoia, and suicidal thoughts.
It can make the unthinkable feel rational. But in nineteen
fifty four, those were not the conversations that people were having.
(08:37):
There was no screening, no awareness, no safety net. A
mother struggling with darkness was expected to just endure it.
Cowfisher stood by his wife. He didn't understand what was
happening to her, but he knew that she was hurting,
and he knew she needed help. Car brought Constants back
to see doctor Chase, the same doctor who had previously
(08:59):
treated her an amia. This time, the diagnosis was less physical.
He prescribed Constance's as sedative to help her sleep, and
fenobarbidal were barbituate to ease her daytime anxiety. In his
medical report, he wrote, I told her that if any
more trouble in this manner developed, we would have her
see a specialist for nervous diseases, to which she agreed.
(09:21):
Even that phrasing nervous diseases speaks volumes about how pearly
understood mental illness was In mid twenty eighth century America, Depression, psychosis,
and postpartum struggles weren't classified the way they are today.
The stigma was enormous, and the treatments were often little
more than guesswork, but for a time, things did seem
(09:41):
to get better. Constance began finding joy again in small,
familiar pleasures. She started reading books again. She curled up
with the family's new black and white television set. She
even began going shopping with her sisters and mother, small
rituals of normalcy that had once seemed impossible. After giving
(10:03):
birth to my daughter in December, I was prepared for
the sleepless nights and the endless nappy changes, but not
for the hair loss. Around three months postpartum, my once
thick hare started chatting like never before. It felt like
every shore ended with a clog drain, and every glance
in the mirror was a reminder of how much had changed.
That's when I discovered Nutrifol's postpartum formula. I had used
(10:23):
Nutrifol's other formulas before, but back when I first heard
about them, I will admit I was a bit skeptical.
The market is full of bold promises and disappointing results,
but Nutrifall has stood out. It's the number one dermatologist
recommended hair growth supplement brand, trusted by over one point
five million people. Their postpartum formulas designed with new mothers
in mind, and it's backed by clinical testing. I started
(10:47):
taking four capsules a day with food, and after a
few months, I could genuinely see the difference. Less hair
and my brush more volume, and most importantly, I started
to feel like myself again. Neutrofol doesn't offer a one
size fits all solution. They know that hair thinning is complex.
That's why their targeted formulas make such a difference. For
a limited time, Neutrafil is offering my listeners ten dollars
(11:08):
off your first month subscription and free shipping when you
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nutrifol dot com promo code morbidology.
Speaker 2 (11:33):
Lads, do you enjoy getting traumatized on a weekly basis, Well,
neither does my co host Neil.
Speaker 3 (11:42):
People call me a victim Marvin a co host.
Speaker 2 (11:45):
Anyway, Welcome to the Mortal Music's podcast. I'm your host Megan.
Each week we dive into truly dark and disturbing cases.
Do you ever find yourself listening to these horrific tales
and saying to yourself.
Speaker 3 (11:58):
Huh no, huh, Well, the actual why why did you
do that? Solved? It may there's no need for that.
They're just acting the box.
Speaker 2 (12:07):
Our episodes include cases of serial killers, the story of
a socialite that was held captive for twenty five years,
prison riots, wrongful executions, and scandals in the death industry.
At the end of each episode, we throw in a
tale of oddity, anything from medical mishaps to the real
life Weekend at Bernie's or Mike the Headless Chicken. New
(12:30):
episodes every Wednesday, available wherever you get your podcasts.
Speaker 3 (12:35):
And remember here at the Martel Musings podcast would like
to take the cases seriously, but not ourselves.
Speaker 1 (12:52):
By Forebruy of nineteen fifty four, she returned to doctor
Chase and told them that she was doing much better.
She was sleeping, eating, the suicidal thoughts and the urges
to harm her family were gone. She underwent the physical exam,
which revealed that her neme had returned, just like before.
She was prescribed iron rich foods vitamin injections, and dress.
(13:14):
She also saw another doctor, doctor Loring Pratt, about an
ear infection. He found that she was suffering from psoriasis,
a skin condition that had infected her ears. He prescribed
the special shampoo, but warned her the formula included a
toxic ingredient. It had to be used with care. Things
(13:41):
on the surface seemed to be returning to normal. Carl,
encouraged by Constance's progress, took a second job to cover
the growing pile of medical bills. He was determined to
do whatever it took to keep his family afloat. But
he couldn't have known that the very medications meant to
help Constans were creating new dangers. On the night of
(14:02):
the eleventh of February, just days after her optimistic report
from doctor Chase, Constance swallowed the remainder of the bottle
a fen of barbital. Caul came home to find her unconscious. Panicked.
He called the doctor, who administered an antidote. It worked
and Constance survived. But the next morning, when doctor Chase
(14:23):
returned to check on her, Constance explained her thinking she
had been feeling depressed again. She said, and if a
little bit of the medication helped that maybe taking a
lot would help even more. That moment should have been
a red flag, a glaring sign that Constance was deteriorating again,
but the warning signs were brushed aside. Shortly after Constance
(14:46):
was referred to psychiatrist doctor Paul Holmes. She spoke to
him about her suicidal thoughts, and she opened up about
her mental health, and yet he dismissed her concerns with
the stunning lack of insight. He told her, those who
talk about ending their own lives rarely do. Go home
and keep on with your work as a wife and mother.
(15:07):
That advice, which was a mirror of the Air's mindset,
was both outdated and dangerous, and tragically common. No one
was asking the bigger questions. Nobody was listening. After Constance's
overdose and the psychiatric's dismissal, her mental health began to
unravel quickly. The moments of peace that had given Karl
(15:27):
hope were disappearing. Constance spent more and more time alone withdrawn.
She'd stop confiding in other people. The voices were back,
and now they were louder and different. They weren't just
in truce of thoughts anymore. Constance came to believe that
the voice she was hearing was God. Karl noticed, He
(15:49):
saw the change in her demeanor and the distant look
in her eyes. He begged her to consider going to
a psychiatric hospital, but Constance refused. She didn't believe that
a haspital could help her. She was terrified of being
taken away. She worried about who would care for the children,
and perhaps, deep down, she feared what might happen if
(16:10):
she set out loud what she was really hearing, Because
how do you tell somebody that God is speaking to
you and telling you that your family would be better
off dead. March eighth, nineteen fifty four started out like
(16:33):
any other Monday for the Fisher family in Waterville, Maine. Outside,
the snow was falling. It had been falling for days now,
blanketing the quiet town in white. Inside the apartment, Carl
woke early. He made his breakfast and packed his lunch.
He waited in the kitchen, sipping its coffee, listening for
the first sounds of little feet. As usual, it was
(16:56):
Richard who woke up first, the oldest, who is now
six years old, with green eyes and a love for cartoons.
He liked to sit close to the television before the
skill bus came, legs holded underneath him, eyes wide. Daniel,
the middle child, was next. He was now four years old. Deborah,
the baby, still just sixteen months old, stayed asleep beside
(17:18):
her mother in the bedroom crib. Call me a breakfast
for the boys, toast and cereal. He moved through the
motions of fatherhood with ease. He was used to doing
a bit of everything, especially lately. He'd taken the previous
week off work. Constance hadn't been doing too well, but
they had weathered these storms before. Carl had wanted to
(17:41):
stay longer, to keep watch a few more days, but
money was tied and the bills were mounting. Carl stepped
into the bedroom with a cup of coffee in hand.
Constance was just waking up. She looked rested for once.
She smiled softly and said to her husband, I feel finel.
I had a good night's sleep for the first time
(18:02):
in weeks. It's okay. The kids and I will be fine,
and Carl believed her. He kissed her forehead, ruffled Daniel's
hair on his way out of the door, and went
to work. Carl returned home at about four pm. The
(18:27):
sky was already beginning to darken more snow was falling.
As he approached the apartment. Something struck him as ought
the lights were off. When he reached the front door,
he found that it was unlocked. He pushed it open.
The apartment was silent, too, silent. No cartoons on the television,
(18:47):
no pots or pants clattering in the kitchen, no giggles
or footsteps or fights over toys. Carl's footsteps echoed as
he moved through the hallway. He called out for Constance
and for the kids, but there was no answer. He
stepped into the children's bedroom. The door was half open
through a narrow gap. He could see Daniel lying on
(19:09):
his bed. He called his name, but there was no reply.
Carl rushed to his son's side. Daniel wasn't sleeping. He
was cold to the touch. He was dead. Panic rose
in Carl's chest as he stumbled into the bathroom and
looked towards the tub. It was filled with water. Floating
(19:32):
in it was the body of six year old Richard.
Carl screamed. He ran through the apartment, yelling for Constance.
The door to the master bedroom was locked. He slammed
his shoulder into it, over and over until it cracked open.
The bed was empty, but Deborah was in the crib.
(19:53):
Her tiny body was still She was dead as well.
Carl tore through the apartment, screaming for Constance, but she
was nowhere to be found. Then he spotted a folded
piece of paper on the table. It was a letter
from Constance. It sat beside the family's bible. It read
(20:14):
it was so hard, but God told me it was
the only way I could save them there in heaven,
save forever from evil. I hope you will forgive me,
Please forget all about us. Maybe you don't think I
loved them. I did. Oh, I did. My heart is breaking.
I loved you and I loved them. There was another
note beside it. Constance had written instructions for their burial.
(20:38):
She wanted to be buried with Deborah, and she wanted
the boys laid to rest together. It was a goodbye,
a confession, and a suicide note all in one. Karl
stumbled to the telephone. His hands were shaking as he
called for help. Within minutes, police cars tore through the
snow covered streets of waterfill, sirens screaming lights flash against
(21:00):
the white officers emeriks flooded the apartment, shocked by the
horrific scene inside. Three children gone, a mother missing, and
a father standing in the middle of his living room
holding a note in his trembling hands, asking the one
question that nobody could yet answer, Where was Constance Fisher.
(21:26):
When first responders arrived at the Fisher apartment, they sprang
into action. Paramedics attempted to revive the children, Daniel, Richard
and little Deborah, but it was already too late. Each
of them was pronounced dead at the scene. As police
began documenting the grim surroundings, taking photographs, collecting evidence, somebody
(21:48):
heard a sound. It was a faint rustling coming from
the master bedroom. Carl had checked the room earlier and
it was empty other than from Deborah in her crib.
But when officers entered this time, they looked beneath the bed.
That's where they found her, Constance. She was wrapped tightly
in a blanket, curled beneath the mattress, as if hiding
(22:10):
from the world. Her eyes were half open. She was
semi conscious. Next year, lay a nearly empty bottle of
medicated shampoo, the one she had been prescribed for a
skin condition. A few weeks earlier, the doctor had warned
her to avoid ingesting it, saying that it was potentially dangerous.
Constance believed that it was poison. She had swallowed it
(22:33):
in a final act of desperation, believing that it would
kill her. It didn't. The shampoo wasn't lethal. It left
her dazed, nauseus, but alive. She lay beneath the bed,
waiting for death, but death never came. Police helped her
up and walked her out of the apartment. She didn't resist.
(22:54):
There were no questions, no tears, just a quiet, dreamlike compliance.
Constance was into the police station, and that's when the
story began to unfold. At first, she said nothing. She
sat silently in the small windowless room. She appeared to
be in a state of shock, But slowly she began
to talk. She didn't deny what had happened. She didn't
(23:16):
try to shift the blame. Instead, she spoke plainly. She
told detectives that shortly after Carl left for work that morning,
and after Richard had gone off to school, she ran
a bath for Daniel. She brought him into the bathroom,
undressed him, and helped him into the warm water. She
played with him. She held him, She hugged him, Then
(23:39):
she pressed his head beneath the water. She held him
there until he stopped moving. When it was over, she
wrapped him in a blanket and carried him back to bed,
letting him down as if he were simply sleeping. Then
she did the same with Deborah, her baby still in diapers,
barely able to talk. She carried her to the tub,
(24:00):
drew another bath, and did it all again. By the
time Richard returned home from school, his siblings were already gone.
He didn't know. He walked through the front door, probably
dropped his back pack in the hallway. Constance met him
with a soft voice and told him that it was
bath time. She led him into the bathroom. He stepped
into the tub, but he could tell that something was wrong.
(24:23):
When she reached for him, he resisted. He struggled and
begged stop at mommy, stop it, but she held him down.
She said that he fought harder than the others, so
she climbed into the tub with him and held him tighter.
As he thrashed and gasped and called for her. She
whispered softly, It'll be all right, son. Soon you'll be
(24:44):
in heaven. When it was dawne she left him in
the water. As she gave her statement to detectives, Constance
kept repeating one thing God told me to do it,
she told the detectives. Children don't suffer when they die.
Detectives asked if she had planned on taking her own
life as well, and she said yes. In fact, she
(25:05):
had even planned to kill Karl as well. She had
taken a gun from her family's home several weeks earlier
and had hidden it, but when she looked for it
that afternoon, she couldn't find it. That's when she drank
the shampoo. Constance said she thought that it would be enough.
It burnt her throat and made her dizzy, but it
didn't kill her, so she wrapped herself in a blanket,
(25:27):
crawled beneath the bed, and waited. When asked if she
had regretted what she'd done, Constance didn't hesitate. She said
her only regret was that her children had died and
she had survived. The very next morning, Constance Fisher appeared
(25:53):
in court where she was formerly charged with three counts
of murder. Standing before the judge, she pleaded not guilty.
She didn't cry. She didn't speak. She was then ordered
to be held without bailing, committed to the Augustus State
Psychiatric Hospital for observation. In the court room, just feet
away from where Constance stood was her husband, to Carl,
(26:13):
the man who had kissed his children good bye that
morning and returned home to find them all gone. He
sat silently staring ahead. It was the face of a
man who had just lost everything. The murder sent shockwaves
through the community of Waterville, Maine. Those who knew Constance
struggled to believe it. She had always been seen as sweet,
(26:34):
devoted and adoring mother. Most people who knew the family
had no clue that she was struggling. Then, on the
eleventh of March, Richard, Daniel, and Deborah were laid to rest.
The funeral was held that Sacred Heart Church. The elementary
school where Richard had been a student, closed early so
that his classmates could attend the service. Three small caskets
(26:58):
stood at the front of the altar. During the eulogy,
Reverend John Holahan compared the children to angels. Karl sat
in the front pieu, his head, bowed, his hands trembling.
After the service, the children were buried in the family
law at Saint Francis Cemetery. While Carl mourned, Constance was
(27:18):
undergoing psychiatric evaluation at the State Hospital. Doctors quickly diagnosed
her with paranoid schizophrenia. She spoke of hearing voices, of
divine visions, of messages she believed were being sent by God.
To one psychiatrist, she admitted, I wanted somebody to baby me.
(27:39):
It was a fragile, childlike admission, a glimpse into the
lonely world inside her mind. At the time, the treatment
for schizophrenia was primitive at best and brutal at worst.
One of the primary methods was insolent shock therapy. Patients
were injected with high doses of insulin to induce a
coma or even seizures. The idea was to reset the brain,
(28:02):
but the procedure was dangerous and his time would show
largely ineffective. Eventually it would be abandoned altogether. Yet, despite
the horse treatments, life for Constance and Augusta wasn't entirely bleak.
She enrolled in ballet classes, She played softball with other patients.
She joined the hospital drama group. Constance, by all accounts,
(28:24):
was thriving and Through it all, Karl remained by her side.
He didn't abandon her. He visited her often, sat with her,
talked about their future. He believed deeply that what had
happened wasn't her fault. She had been sick and now
she was getting better. After a year of treatment, doctor
(28:44):
saw significant progress. The voices were gone, the visions had faded.
Constance was calm, co operative, and kind. By nineteen fifty five,
Karl began the legal process to bring his wife back home,
but the road to release would be easy. At the
first hearing in nineteen fifty seven, doctors advised against it.
(29:05):
They said she wasn't ready. Carl and Constance were disappointed,
but they didn't give up, and their patients eventually paid off.
In nineteen fifty eight, psychiatrists testified that Constance had not
shown any signs of psychosis in years. She was stable, safe,
and then in nineteen fifty nine, the timing aligned with
the national movement, a push to the institutionalized psychiatric patients
(29:29):
and transitioned them back into the community. Doctors concluded that
Constance Fisher no longer posed a threat to herself for
anybody else. She would be released in May of nineteen
fifty nine, Carl drove to the hospital. He picked up
Constance and brought her home. He had built them a
new home along Ohio Hill Road, a fresh start, a
(29:51):
clean slate. Together they were going to rebuild, and indeed
they did. They had three more children, Natalie, Michael, and Kathleen.
But some cracks can't be smoothed over, and some tragedies
never really end. The front page of the Flint Journal
(30:21):
on the first of July nineteen sixty six carried a
chilling headline, nineteen fifty four triple drowning and family is repeated.
Twelve years had passed, a new house, a new life,
a second chance. But on the final day of during
that year, Carl Fischer stepped through his front door and
(30:41):
found himself trapped in a living nightmare, a mirror image
of the one he thought he had left behind. In
the bathroom, nine month old Natalie was floating, faced down
in just an inch and a half of water. Carl
didn't check the rest of the house. He didn't need to.
He bowled outside and ran to the home of a neighbor,
(31:02):
Howard would begging to use the telephone. He couldn't go
back inside because steep down. Carl knew what he would find.
When police arrived at the scene, they moved from room
to room. In one of the bedrooms, they found four
year old Michael and six year old Kathleen tucked neatly
into their beds. They looked as though they were sleeping,
(31:24):
but they weren't. All three children had been drowned. Constance
was found in her own bed, unconscious. She had taken
an overdose of prescription pills in an effort to end
her life. Clutched tightly in her arms were two images
of Jesus Christ. Beside her l a note which read,
I hope you understand. It's the only way I could
(31:45):
be sure they would go to heaven. Constance was rushed
to fail her hospital in Waterville, where doctors were able
to see of her life, but this time Constance wouldn't
return home. She was charged once again with three counts
of mr To detective, she explained, softly, I've had trouble.
(32:05):
I can't take care of the baby, and now they're
all in heaven. In the weeks leading up to the murders,
Constance's mental state had been deteriorating. She had become withdrawn.
She spoke of an impending doom and inescapable darkness. The
voices had returned. They warned her about the end of
(32:25):
the world, and she believed that God was speaking to
her again, telling her what had to be done, that
her children's salvation depended on her. Karl had noticed the
signs again and had taken Constance to doctor Price Kirkpatrick.
She was prescribed medication, but the tragedy couldn't be stopped.
(32:46):
As doctor Kirkpatrick later commented, by our present knowledge, this
tragedy could not have happened if she had taken the
drug properly. On the fourth of July, there was another funeral.
Three small caskets were lowered into the ground Saint Francis Cemetery.
They were placed in the same family plot as Richard,
Daniel and Deborah, siblings they never met. Constance was recommitted
(33:10):
to the Augustus State Hospital. She stayed there for six
months before doctors ruled her competent to stand trial. She
faced three kinds of murder, and once again she pleaded
not guilty by reason of insanity. As the indictments were
read aloud, Constance began sobbing uncontrollably. It was a scene
that was as familiar as it was tragic. Doctor testified
(33:35):
that she had suffered another full blown psychotic break. Doctor
Walter Rohm of the Augusta State Hospital took the stand.
He said he diagnosed Constance with chronic schizophrenia. He said
that the illness left her with a basic feeling of
hopelessness to spare and pessimism. Despite the prosecution's attempts to
have her convicted, the court agreed with the defense. Constance
(33:59):
Fisher was found not guilty by reason of insanity for
the second time. She was spared prison, but she was
committed indefinitely, and again Carl stood by her side. He visited,
He held her hand, He spoke about the life they
could still have together. This time, there would be no
(34:19):
more children. They were too old for that, not anyway,
But the weight of grief is corrosive, and even the
deepest love has its limits. By October of nineteen seventy three,
seven years after the second tragedy, Karl stopped visiting altogether.
Their conversations faded to silence, and Constance was left alone
(34:42):
alone with her thoughts, her faith, and her ghosts. On
the first of October nineteen seventy three, Constance Fisher slipped
away unnoticed. She walked quietly off the grounds of the
Augusta State Hospital. She had grounds privileges, freedom to walk
(35:06):
the gardens, the lawns, and the perimeter, but no permission
to leave. At two fifteen pm, she was reported missing.
There was no panic, no urgent alarm. Her treatment team
had assessed her and they said she wasn't a danger
to others, but she could be a danger to herself,
and they were right. State and local police launched a search.
(35:29):
They scarred the hospital grounds, combed nearby woods, followed the
river banks, but there was no sign of Constance. On
the third day, Augusta State Hospital Superintendent Roy Edinger told
the press, there are no leeds known to us yet.
We've had no reports of anyone spotting her, but were
still looking. They would search for eight long days. Then,
(35:51):
on the seventh of October, a group of dock hunters
saw something in the water. It was floating in the
Kennebec River near Gardiner, around seven miles from the hospital.
It was Constance Fisher. She had died the very same
day she walked away. After her body was recovered, outraged
spread main State Senator Walter Hitchins called the past system
(36:14):
at the hospital irresponsible. He stated Constance would still be
alive if not for that system. The policy has allowed
her to wander freely unsupervised, offering a narrow window for escape.
But there was something else, a darker irony. At the
time of her disappearance, Constance had been immersed in an
(36:35):
aggressive psychiatric program, part of a progressive approach to mental
health care. She was receiving group therapy, behavioral therapy, and
something called MLLEU therapy. Milieu therapy was built on an
idealistic foundation. It c centered on the idea that a
person's environment, their surroundings, their relationships, their structure could be
(36:57):
engineered to promote healing. Patients were given more autonomy, more
participation in their own care. They were encouraged to take
responsibility for their lives. Again, it was a compassionate concept,
but it carried a risk. The superintendent explained. The risk
of every active treatment program is that the intensity it
develops increases the chance a participant will commit suicide. In fact,
(37:22):
over the past decade, an average of two impatients a
year who escaped during treatment took their own lives. Yet
The superintendent defended the system, stating, during the past two years,
we've had one thousand patients return to community life, and
regarding Constance, he said, there was no way of predicting
that this could have occurred. I think our staff handled
(37:44):
her case well. On the ninth of October, Constance Fisher
was led to rest. Her funeral was short and sweet,
held at Saint Bridget's Church. There were no large crowds,
no headlines, just a small service, a wooden casket, a
final prayer. Afterwards, she was buried in the family plot,
(38:06):
the same place where six small bodies had already been buried,
and a headstone which bore the names of all the
children she had loved and lost and killed. They were
all together now, a mother and her children were united
in death. Seventeen years later, in ninety ninety, Carl Fischer died.
The man who had once stood by Constance through two
(38:28):
imaginable tragedies, the man who had watched his entire family vanish,
the man who had hoped desperately to begin again. He
was buried beside them. He was no longer haunted by
the past and what ifs. He was no longer alone,
just one grave now one name, one family, Well, Bessie's.
(39:20):
That is it for this episode of Morbidology. As always,
thank you so much for listening, and I'd like to
say a massive thank you to my newest supporter up
on Pittreon Ruse. Morbiology is just a one woman podcast,
so the support up on their seriously ghosts along way.
In exchange for your support, to upload ad free and
early release episodes behind the scenes, and there's also a
bunch of bonus episodes of Morbidology plus that aren't on
(39:42):
the regular podcast platforms. You can join for as little
as one dollar a month. From there are absolutely new obligations.
You can cancel your subscription at any time. I'm going
to check us out at morbidology dot com for more
information about this episode and to read some trick crime articles.
Until next time, take care of your selves, stay safe,
and have an amazing week.
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