Struggling With Impulse Control

For 45 minutes, Opal knew what it was like to have money.

In police custody

At 1:20 PM on January 22, 1947, Opal Dixon, aged 35, entered the Des Moines National Bank and Trust prepared to make a big withdrawal. She passed a large manila envelope to the teller and told him to fill it up with cash or she'd would "blow the place the pieces."

She waved a hypodermic syringe filled with a colored liquid over her head, announcing to everyone that the place was surrounded and insinuated Al Capone was her partner in crime.

photo from
The Des Moines
Register - Jan. 23, 1947

Bank employee Rex Cisco placed $500 in the envelope and pushed it back towards Opal but she demanded more. He squatted down, grabbed bundles of $1s and then $5s, bringing the total to $2,950.00. Cisco signaled to a coworker to press the silent alarm.

When an elderly man next to Opal started to turn, she told him, "Just stand still, Mister. One squirt of this and you will be a dead stiff in a second."

Opal walked out of the bank and disappeared into the crowd.

She hadn't gone far. She walked to her dentist's office to pay an outstanding bill in the amount of $75 for some false teeth. Opal borrowed the key to the ladies' restroom where she hid the rest of the money in both the toilet paper dispenser and waste paper basket. She disposed of the hypodermic syringe, bought herself a magazine and headed back outside.

Opal was one of many women wearing a grey fur coat that afternoon so she blended in quite easily but it was her lack of a hat that made police spot her.

photo from The Globe Gazette - Jan. 23, 1947

Opal calmly denied any involvement and there was no evidence on her person linking her to the crime but when police escorted her back to the bank, multiple eyewitnesses identified her immediately.

Opal was taken to the police station where she said, "I suppose you are suspecting me of the St. Louis bank robbery, too." Well, if they weren't before they certainly were now.

This was the first solid lead the FBI would have in the December 1946 robbery of the United Bank and Trust in St. Louis, Missouri.

On that day, Opal Dixon walked away with $582 in singles. Not a bad haul considering she did it all on the spur of the moment.

Opal had traveled by bus from Des Moines to St. Louis a few days prior to rendezvous with her recently wed daughter Jewell, age 16.

On December 26, 1946, mother and daughter were waiting at the St. Louis bus station for a return trip to Des Moines when Opal disappeared for a bit. She later claimed she simply got it into her head that she would rob a bank and so she did.

She claims the inspiration came to her in a dream; days before robbing the bank she had a dream in which she was a wealthy woman.

Opal walked from the bus station to the bank, waited in line and when she got to the window she simply demanded money. The teller, Robert Walden, later told police that a well-dressed woman pulled a gun from inside her fur coat and told him to "Hand it over. The place is covered." 

When Walden hesitated, she told him "I'm not kidding, hand it over." Opal was given an envelope bulging with one dollar bills and Walden helped the next customer before sounding the alarm. Not even the man standing on line behind Opal knew there had been a robbery.

Opal walked right out the front door and passed 2 policemen as she made her way to a produce market where she visited the restrooms (leaving behind a wrapper from one of the bundles of  bills and turning her coat inside out) she then made a small purchase of cabbages and grapes.

Opal rejoined her daughter at the bus station, said nothing about where she'd been and both of them boarded the bus.

Suspicion quickly fell on Walden especially after the results of his lie detector test proved inconclusive. I believe there's a good chance Walden was merely unwilling to admit an unarmed woman managed to rob him. Opal's version of events makes no mention of a handgun.

Opal later told police all the money from the first bank theft had been spent on "steaks, a radio, electric clock and other gadgets."

It could only have been the ease with which she robbed one bank that she thought she'd try it again. Opal claims this too was a spontaneous crime. Opal had been chatting with her daughter Jewell over breakfast one day about how they'd spend money if they had some.

The morning of the robbery, Opal filled a hypodermic syringe with a little bit of Listerine. This would serve as her phony liquid dynamite.

As she told police, "I know there are things that are suppose to blow things up, that's all. I had no idea what I wanted the people in the bank to think was in the syringe. I just thought I'd let them think what they wanted."

Photo from Des Moines Register - Jan. 23, 1947

Opal showed very little remorse for her crime nor did she seem overly concerned about the stiff penalty for such an act. If found guilty, and she had already confessed to not one but two robberies, Opal would receive the mandatory sentence of life in prison. A sympathetic district attorney offered her a plea deal but Opal refused to plead guilty in court to the lesser charge of robbery with aggravation which would have resulted in a maximum sentence of 25 years. She would take her chances with the all-female jury and a charge of robbery with intent.

photo from The Des Moines Tribune - Feb. 7, 1947

The first maneuver made by Opal's court-appointed attorney Ray Hanke was to argue Opal's confession had been coerced and obtained under duress. Failing in that, he changed tactics and suggested his client was temporarily insane at the time but after being examined by two psychiatrists, that angle was also rejected by the Judge Russell Jordan. Judge Jordan stated, "Even in it's most favorable light, the pleadings of the defense could no more than raise the possible issue of irresistible impulse at the time of the robbery."

Opal's defense at the trial would have to be one of privation, abuse, poverty and desperation after years of being in a series of abusive marriages.

Opal would claim that she only robbed the banks so that the FBI would be alerted to her terrible situation and lend assistance. She testified that she wanted to scare everyone "real bad, the way I have been scared for the past eight years." Both of her daughters, Louise, aged 18, and Jewell, aged 16, would back her up with regards to abuse Opal had suffered at the hands of her husband, Jesse Dixon.

Of course, how does this claim fit with Opal's initial comments to the police?
Just a few of the gems included "I was simply tired of living without having money - that's why I did it." "I robbed two banks because I wanted my family to enjoy the thrill of having lots of money" and "If I had gotten by with that job today, my family would be eating nice juicy steaks."

Opal's testimony of life before the crimes certainly sold newspapers and packed the standing-room only courtroom.

photo from The Des Moines Tribune -  February 14, 1947

Nobody had to come out of the woodwork to expose Opal. She took the stand in her own defense, told all and came across as impetuous, forthright and sympathetic.



Opal was born in 1911 in Missouri, she left school at the age of 15 and shortly thereafter was married for the first time to a steel company representative named William D. Stoller. The union was a brief one - a falling out only two months into the marriage had Opal seeking a divorce. Afterwards she sought to better herself by enrolling in a nine month business course but would take another trip down the aisle before using the skills she'd acquired to land a job.



photo from The
Des Moines Register -
Jan. 23, 1947

Husband number two was Layman Allen. Layman was a glass blower by trade, the father of her two daughters and lousy at supporting the family. According to Opal "He never had $10 in his pocket after the first six months we were married in 1927, and he sent me home on three different occasions. We lived with his people some of the time and with my folks part of the time before I got a divorce from him in 1932. He told fantastic stories and we quarreled over money."

Opal worked as a waitress to support her and the girls, earning $5 a week.

Shortly after her divorce from Layman, Opal rebounded into a marriage with Virgil Hammond. He was a vaudevillian tap dancer and clown who refused to give up his vocation to get a job with the WPA, as she had hoped. Opal worked and supplemented her income with state aid. They lived apart more than they lived together and he was often abusive. During one altercation, Opal got between Virgil and the children and she was knocked to the floor; she suffered a miscarriage. After 5 unhappy years of marriage, Opal filed for divorce. "I didn't want the children to become silly from being boxed around and I took a shot at him with his revolver but missed."

Opal had to leave her daughters with their paternal grandmother following this lateset divorce but marriage number four, one year later, would find Opal reunited with her girls.

Unfortunately, Robert E. Couillion was not the answer to her problems. "Robert was my French and Spanish husband, and there was trouble almost from the start. I hit him on the head with an alarm clock because he beat the children, the police came, and I was taken to the hospital all banged up, with several fractured ribs."



Opal again became separated from her children.

While Robert Couillion was being deported and divorced, Opal was being arrested for kidnapping her own daughters from the custody of Illinois juvenile authorities. These charges would eventually be dropped.

Things couldn't have always been bad between Robert and Opal because according to an article in the January 23, 1947 Des Moines Tribune, Opal admitted the name "Robert" had been tattooed over her heart.

Opal married for a fifth time, as early as 1938 or as late as 1943, depending upon which statement you read.

Her new husband, Jesse Dixon, was 25 years older than her and, like Opal, had four previous marriages behind him. After 7 months of marriage, most of the family relocated to Peoria, Illinois. Oldest daughter Louise stayed behind in St. Louis and although Jewell did accompany Opal and Jesse, she was placed in a children's home.

According to Opal's testimony, when they got to Peoria, Jesse Dixon rented an eight room house which he turned into a brothel. Working for him was his own wife and 4 other girls.
Opal spent 2 years working as a prostitute but quit because of arthritis. Opal sought treatment at a hospital for her ailment then returned to St. Louis. She tried to put some distance between herself and her husband but wherever Opal went, Jesse followed.

During one such reunion, much to Opal's disappointment, Jesse handed over only $500 of the $4,000 they had made while in Peoria after promising her an equal cut. Jesse then insisted repeatedly that Opal return to working as a prostitute or perhaps help with a blackmail scheme he'd devised.
According to Opal, Jesse said "you're not going to be young always and ought to make some quick money while the sun shines." She refused because her health had been ruined by her "work in the underworld" and this angered him.



According to Opal's testimony, Jesse threatened her life, gave her a beating that knocked out a few of her teeth and asked her how she "would like to lead a couple of blind kids around." This, Opal would claim, was what motivated her to rob those banks. She wanted to do something big enough to get the attention of the FBI.

photo and caption from the book "Des Moines"

written by Craig C. McCue

At the time of Opal's arrest in January 1947, she and Jesse were residing at the Hotel Cargill in Des Moines and Opal's two daughters, both married, were living in an adjoining room.

The hotel had a questionable reputation and was the subject of many a police raid.

Jesse was employed by the Watson Freight Company as  dispatcher while Opal worked occasionally as a practical nurse at the Wilden Osteopathic Hospital and as a waitress at a downtown restaurant.
Jewell was a student nurse at the same hospital and apparently seeking a divorce. Louise, who had been working alongside her mother as a waitress was currently unemployed.

All four of them were taken in for questioning. Jesse was ultimately released because police believed he was not involved although he did admit to having knowledge of his wife's first robbery.
Upon her return from St. Louis in December 1946, Opal had showed him a sack full of $1 bills. Jesse's statement also included the fact that he had sent Opal $37 while she was in Des Moines visiting Jewell but only $18 of that had been repaid.



Jesse also revealed some background on Opal. According to Jesse, he met Opal in 1939 at a St. Louis restaurant (perhaps while she was working as a waitress?) and he "felt sorry for her because she looked sick. I helped her out financially and finally married her in Chicago. She worked for the Carnegie Steel Company in South Chicago for awhile. She laid off for a few days and when the boss asked her why, she said that I was dead and that she was attending my funeral."



No charges were filed against either Jewell or Louise and they both stood by their mother throughout the proceedings. Eldest daughter Louise, herself twice married, claimed her first union was "not for love but so that she could get away from Mr. Dixon." Her second husband was a Merchant Marine and currently in South America.

photo from The Daily News - Feb. 20, 1947

The trial lasted 14 days. The jury deliberated for 6 hours and cast 7 ballots before announcing they had their verdict.

According to the Des Moines Register, on the day the verdict was to be read, "Defense Attorney Ray Hanke telephoned that he would not be able to come to court, and Mrs. Dixon sat alone between two sheriff's deputies. The defendant didn't bother to remove her coat or galoshes before hearing the verdict. After the decision had been announced, she shook hands with County Attorney Carroll Switzer. Her daughters were not in the courtroom." Although they "had been at the courthouse earlier in the afternoon to collect witness fees for testifying on their mother's behalf, but apparently did not know of the return of the verdict."



The jury had little choice but to find Opal guilty. Mrs. Eva Jane Hutchens, the foreman, said "We all felt sorry for her but we had to do our duty as jurors."

Opal took the verdict in her stride, saying she "wasn't surprised." When asked if she would appeal, Opal replied "Why sure. What do you think this whole show was for anyway?"

One week later, on February 28th, Opal was back in court. Her petition for a new trial was denied and the mandatory sentence of life in prison was imposed.

Opal laughed and chatted with Louise and Jewell after the judgment was announced but refused to acknowledge Jesse, who was now speaking to her for the first time since her arrest.



photo from The Des Moines Tribune-  Feb. 28, 1947



photo from The Des Moines Tribune - Feb. 28, 1947

Jesse stepped forward to say "Hello" and was ignored. When Jesse asked "Aren't you going to say anything?" Opal let him have it, "Now that you have waited until this time to show up, get out and stay out." It wasn't until he remarked "You thought too late about your daughters" that Jesse got a genuine rise out of her. Opal stood up and was ready to have a go at him until a deputy sheriff intervened and advised him to leave. Opal regained her composure and sat back down.

photo from The Des Moines Tribune - Feb. 28, 1947

Once incarcerated at the Rockwell City Reformatory, Opal had some difficulty adjusting and was twice transferred to the Cherokee State Hospital for observation after suffering "attacks of hysterical frenzy," first in July 1947 and then in September 1948.



Cherokee State Hospital, photo from the website
EveryBody:An Artifact History of Disability in America

Jesse Dixon was be granted a divorce from Opal in November 1947. The only reason given was Opal's felony conviction.



On December 6, 1949, Opal once again acted on impulse and decided to escape from the minimal security prison. Instead of walking from her cottage to the dining hall, Opal walked away from the prison and headed towards the south edge of the reformatory grounds.

Women's Reformatory, Rockwell, Iowa -

photo from State of Iowa, Dept. of Social Services

The Globe Gazette provided this statement from the prison's superintendent Mrs. Helen Talboy, "Opal sometimes didn't eat an evening meal. When she did not appear therefore, it as assumed she was in her 2nd floor room. A check later showed she was missing."

After 6 1/2 hours of hiding in a cornfield, Opal walked back to her cottage and turned herself in. Opal's hands and legs were reddened and chapped from exposure. Opal told them "she couldn't stand it any longer. But she'll try again next summer - when it's warmer." Opal spent the next 30 days in solitary confinement and did not make good on her promise of a second attempt.

In 1953, Prison Magazine published an article about Opal and described her as model inmate:

"I do not know the qualifications for an ambassadress, but I believe Opal has the potentialities. Opal is never too busy to call out a cheery greeting. Her laughter is the infectious kind that we all like to hear. She is impeccably clean and neat. She is an interesting conversationalist and a good listener. Above all, she is at all times gracious, being ladylike is one of Opal's greatest assets."



In 1955, Governor Leo A. Hoegh commuted Opal's life sentence to a term of 50 years.

On August 21, 1957, Opal was paroled after spending 10 1/2 years in prison. The Des Moines Tribune reported that Opal would be living in Michigan where both of her daughters reside.

Making the most of her freedom, Opal had found time for romance. That's right - Opal married for a sixth time.



On October 25, 1957, Opal, now 45-years-old, married James E. Christy, Sr, aged 55, before a justice of the peace in Saline, Michigan. Christy was a widower and the father of nine married children.

It was a whirlwind courtship; they had only known each other about a week. Opal proposed on their second date. She told him "she could cook, bake and be a good homemaker." James found her to be "a charming, witty, white-haired woman."

A few hours after their wedding, the two stopped at a gas station. Opal exited the car but left her open purse behind. James noticed some yellowed newspaper clippings and curiosity got the better of him. This is the first he'd heard about Opal's time in prison and the bank robbery.

When confronted with the deception, Opal "unleashed a streak of abuse that would chill the blood of the most forgiving bridegroom," said James. "She told me I was a sucker. She added that she had six or seven previous husbands, she couldn't exactly remember. She also said she was the darling of several gangsters." "All I wanted was a good home."

James was stunned into silence, "I drove her to Woodward Ave., dropped her off and I haven't seen her since." On January 2, 1958 he would granted an annulment.

On November 20, 1958, Opal's parole was revoked on recommendation of Michigan parole authorities because Opal had been "drinking excessively" and had "caused a number of disturbances."

According to a January 31, 1982 retrospective of "Notorious Ladies from Iowa's Past" published in the Des Moines Register, Opal Dixon was released from the Women's Reformatory in the late 1960s.



Opal died on June 24, 1982 in Nora Springs, Iowa at the age of 71. She was survived by her two daughters.

An interesting side note - The foreman on the jury, Jane Hutchens, was herself a minor celebrity. She was the author of two historical novels, "John Brown's Cousin" and "Timothy Larkin," published in 1940 and 1942 respectively. Both of these are available to read for free at https://archive.org

Jane Hutchens was interviewed after the trial and said "The rest of my days I'll be conscious of the fact that I helped to take someone's freedom away."

From Bad to Worse

Some women have been known to say that growing up they had a fairy tale childhood ..... and they'll mean it in a good way. Rarely do they mean that after their mother died young their father unwittingly brought home a monster to care for her and her siblings and their lives became a living hell. Sadly, such was the case for today's victim.
I'm keeping her true identity to myself even though it was revealed in newspapers at the time. I'll omit her last name entirely and use her stepmother's maiden name because this crime involves an underage victim but to make the story easier to follow I'll assign the victim an alias. For the purposes of this narrative, I shall call her Maggie. Don't think these omissions and changes on my part reflect a failure to accurately research the crime. It is instead my attempt to protect the identity of someone who already had so much taken from her against her will that I felt she deserved some anonymity, even though she's passed on. And because I promised her granddaughter that I would.

Pulmonary tuberculosis claimed the life of Maggie's mother Minnie, aged 32, on May 25, 1911. Left behind was a grieving husband and 4 children. One son had died in 1908, at the age of 7, after being hit in the head by a baseball. Already so much sadness for this Thornhope, Indiana family.

Maggie was the eldest of Minnie's children, she was 12. The youngest child was a son named Forest, 3-years-old. In the middle were two daughters, 8 and 6. Maggie's father James was employed by the Pennsylvania Railroad as a foreman and his motivation for finding a second wife seems obvious because he married Rosa Flanagan on October 22, 1911, roughly 5 months after the death of his wife. Knowing what we do about James, it seems unlikely he had Rosa waiting in the wings as his wife lay dying. He clearly needed someone to help raise his children while he worked long hard hours to put food on the table and keep a roof over their heads. Desperate and blinded by grief, he made a poor choice.

Rosa Flanagan was 8 years older than James, twice divorced and had 2 children of her own from her first marriage, a daughter 22-years-old and a son 19-years-old. To quote Jackie Kennedy, "The first time you marry for love, the second for money, and the third for companionship." Well, with friends like Rosa, nobody needed an enemy.

The depths of Rosa's depravity became known on December 13, 1912 when 13-year-old Maggie and a 49-year-old man named George Dirton were arrested by Logansport, Indiana police as Dirton was picking Maggie up at the train station.

According to newspaper accounts of the time, local police had observed Dirton greeting the comely young girl as she stepped off the train as often as two and three times a week for months and they'd found it suspicious. Was it the look of fear of Maggie's face? Her reluctance to get into his car? Dirton's leering and overall lasciviousness? Who can say but thankfully someone was looking out for her, even if they were too late.

When questioned by police, Maggie told them the sordid and terrible truth. Her stepmother Rosa had entered into a financial arrangement with George Dirton and had essentially sold Maggie to Dirton. Maggie would board the noon train to Logansport several times a week and was told to obey Dirton completely until the 4 PM train would take her back home. It was most important that Maggie be back home before James walked through the door at 6 PM. James had no idea any of this was going on. His anger upon being informed was palpable.

James returned home from work on December 13th and found Maggie missing. Rosa seemed just as concerned as James and claimed to not know where Maggie was. Without realizing it, Rosa was telling the truth. She certainly didn't know Maggie was talking to the Logansport Police and that a squad car was on it's way to arrest her.

James asked around town and learned his daughter had boarded a train for Logansport so he hired a car. [Google Maps estimates it's 30 minutes by car.] James and Rosa headed south together but were met midway by a police car. Rosa must have assessed the situation quite quickly because she hopped out of the car and start running away on foot. As if James wasn't already confused. Police easily caught Rosa, brought her back to her husband and informed him she was being arrested for selling his daughter. According to the Fort Wayne Sentinel, in the presence of the police, James told Rosa "If I find that this is true. If I find you've sold my daughter, I'll kill you."

Early newspaper accounts say that Maggie's compliance was rewarded with pretty dresses and while Maggie's testimony confirms this was true she also said she would be forced to comply whenever she refused. Any attempt on the newspapers' part to imply Maggie was on board with this arrangement was completely wrong and inappropriate.

A dual charge of rape brought against both George Dirton and Rosa leave little doubt as to what was inflicted upon Maggie each afternoon as she was picked up at the station. How dreadful must the train ride have been each and every time?

It's unusual that Rosa was charged with rape and not pandering or pimping. Rosa's lawyer, Frank V. Guthrie, would later file a motion to quash the indictment of rape on the basis that it was not only untrue but not possible.

Guthrie did he what he could to defend Rosa or at least guarantee her a fair trial. A motion for a change of venue was granted and he also asked that Rosa be tried before and apart from George Dirton who, rumor had it, intended to plead guilty. This latter motion was not granted. Maybe Dirton felt he'd be safer in prison. Two of Maggie's uncles, Charles & Stephen, had already tried to visit Dirton in his holding cell but they were turned away at the door when it was discovered they were heavily armed.

Maggie meanwhile was being kept safe in her own prison - she was being sequestered at the St. Joseph's Hospital until the case to come to trial. The hospital staff was instructed not to allow her any visitors under danger of being held in contempt of court. News from the outside world was disconcerting. Maggie was under the impression her father James had sided with his new wife and her health suffered severely. However, nothing could be further from the truth.

The Prosecuting Attorney, Michael L. Fansler arranged for Maggie to be present when he interviewed James. The question put forth was "Have you retained an attorney to defend your wife against the charges made by your daughter?" The answer was immediate and definite - "To defend her? I will give every assistance to send her and Dirton to the penitentiary. If money is needed to hire more lawyers, I'll get it."

Maggie's testimony to the Grand Jury was given in private. Both Dirton and Rosa had trouble raising the $5,000 bail. Although Dirton was widely reported to be a wealthy bachelor farmer, his property was heavily mortgaged. A second lein was obtained so that he could hire an attorney. I'm not positive but I don't believe Rosa was able to obtain bail money and she stayed in prison until her trial in January 1913.

On January 22, 1913, George Dirton stood up in open court, entered a guilty plea to the charge of rape and admitted he had "bought" Maggie from Rosa. "I am guilty," Dirton said, "but now I can scarcely realize how I ever came to permit myself to be a party to such an offense. I had too much money and my unoccupied mind turned to evil."

The Indianapolis Star reported the following day that Dirton had implicated another local farmer in the crime but State's Attorney M.L. Fansler refused to make that name known to the public or provide details of that individual's supposed involvement. That same Indianapolis Star newspaper article claims that this second man visited Dirton at the jail and threatened to kill Dirton if he didn't shut up. As far as I know, nothing else came of this accusation.

Judge John Lairy sentenced Dirton to serve a term of 2 to 21 years in the Indiana State prison.

Mug shot for George Dirton, provided by the Indiana State Archives

Next up was Rosa. She continued to maintain her innocence and defended herself by saying Maggie was the problem not she. George Dirton's previous admission of guilt didn't help Rosa one bit. I've seen many court documents relating to this case, including subpoenas but not one for George Dirton. I can't imagine the prosecution wouldn't call him as a witness against Rosa.

On February 14, 1913, with or without the Dirton on the witness stand, Rosa was also found guilty of rape and sentenced to a term of 2 to 21 years in prison. She was 43-years-old.

A most unusual prison photo of Rosa.
She looks like she's recovering at a tuberculosis sanitarium
or vacationing at a friend's summer house

George Dirton was granted parole on January 30, 1915, left the prison on February 18, 1915 and was discharged from parole on January 29, 1916. He was free to live his life.

The 1920 US Census has George and his older brother William living together and working as farm laborers. By 1930, George was an inmate at the Northern Indiana Hospital for the Insane. He would die there on June 8, 1931 of a cerebral hemorrhage with dementia precox listed as a contributing factor. He was 68-years-old.

Rosa, having exhibited good behavior while incarcerated, was paroled on December 16, 1918 and released into the custody daughter Elizabeth. On January 2, 1920, Rosa was discharged fully from parole and free to live her life. She died February 19, 1930 at the age of 60.

I had hoped to see some confirmation, perhaps in testimony transcripts, of a long-term amorous relationship between Dirton and Rosa, as was reported in December 18, 1912 edition of The Huntington Press - "To satisfy perverted passion of her lover of fifteen years, her own greed for money, it is charged that Rosa Flanagan of Thornhope, sold her 13-year-old stepdaughter to George Durton  , a local parcel delivery man." Alas, no such transcripts exist. I suppose I was just looking for some reason, however twisted, for Rosa to ruin a young girl's life and devastate a family.

George Dirton, West Virginia born and raised, seems a most unremarkable man but there is a history of insanity in his family. His paternal grandmother had been institutionalized and his younger brother Joseph, from the various newspaper accounts I've read, seems to have been a dangerous paranoid schizophrenic.

Joseph Dirton had once become severely delusional and shot a man. The wound was non-fatal. Joseph was locked up in several hospitals including the Spencer (WV) State Asylum, a place he escaped from in September 1894 because he claimed the living conditions were horrendous and he wasn't receiving his medication. Joseph's parents petitioned the court to be appointed his guardians.

The Dirton family eventually relocated to Indiana. The change of scenery did not make a difference for two years later (May 19, 1896), Joseph became extremely agitated and had to be removed from the family home. He put up quite a struggle, during which Deputy Sheriff Charles Davison received a severe cut to his hand, and Joseph was sent to the Long Cliff Asylum in Logansport. On September 15, 1899, 33-year-old Joseph died at his parents' home.

Even with Dirton and Rosa in prison, more tragedy awaited Maggie and her family for on August 14, 1913 the body of Maggie's father James was found lying by the train tracks. The death certificate lists his age as 36, the cause of death was a "railroad accident," and his marital status was "divorced."

Now orphaned, Maggie, her two sisters and a brother were taken in by their Uncle Truman and his wife.

On October 16, 1932, Maggie's brother Forest was one of two neighbors to die as a result of a buzz saw accident. Here are the facts, cobbled together from two articles printed in The Times (Muncie, Indiana) newspaper - "Arnold Konietz and Forest were sawing up some old railroad ties at the Konietz home with a buzz saw borrowed from a friend of Konietz. Forest and Konietz had rigged up a belt from the rear wheel of an automobile to furnish power to the saw.

It is believed that the vibration of the saw loosened bolts holding the frame castings together. Arthur Ostrander, another neighbor who had strolled over to watch the work, was standing near. He said it appeared that the shaft bounded from the bearing at one end under the pull of the belt. Then the other bearing broke and the rapidly whirling saw and shaft hurtled at the two men who were standing right in front of it with a heavy tie."

"The saw struck both men. Konietz's left arm was almost severed at the shoulder joint and his left side was laid open from the shoulder down. Konietz died immediately. Forest's left side and left leg had been ripped open. He died 3 days later while in the hospital. He was 23-years-old. He left behind a wife and son."

Maggie lived to the age of 97. She remained haunted by the crime until the day she died and kept it a secret from her children and grandchildren.

Michael L. Fansler, the State Prosecutor in this case, went on to become Chief Justice of the Indiana Supreme Court.

Rosa's attorney Frank Guthrie, shown here in 1939, was elected Mayor of Logansport three times, serving from 1914-1917 then 1922-1929.

I did a bit more research for this story, hopefully it'll be reflected in the narrative. I relied heavily on newspaper archives, as usual, but I also want to give a public shout-out to Dave Birnell and Sherry Raber at the Miami County (Indiana) Clerk's Office. After tirelessly and eagerly digging through a great many boxes of records down in the basement of an annex building, they struck gold and made available to me scans of everything they had found relating to this case including the original indictment for George Dirton and Rosa, The Original Warrant for Rosa, Motion for Separate Trial, Motion to Quash, a Motion to hear her trial first, Motion for Change of Venue, Transcript of Costs, run down of everything filed Subpoenas, The Verdict, and a letter from the Indiana Women’s Prison releasing Rosa for good behavior.

Also, my thanks to Keenan Salla at the Indiana State Archives for all of her assistance. In addition to allowing me access to prison records, which provided biographical info (and possible topics for future blogs), we wouldn't know what George Dirton looked like were it not for her and my $15.00.

While you wait .......

Just a quick update.


I had ordered some documents relating to the next tragic tale I intend to cover and I now have those last pieces of the puzzle but will need a few days to write the entry.

In the meanwhile, I posted a two minute video clip to the blog's YouTube channel that will be of interest to anyone who's heard of the Joseph Wambaugh book "Echoes in the Darkness."

Maybe you've only seen the 1987 TV Movie adaptation starring Stockard Channing, Peter Coyote, Robert Loggia & Treat Williams?

Maybe you heard Karen and Georgia cover the crime in episode 75 of their My Favorite Murder podcast?

I found the mini-series while converting my old VHS tapes to DVD and it still holds up.

There has been much written about the death of Susan Reinert, the disappearance of her children Karen and Michael, the convictions of both Jay Smith and William Bradfield, etc. so I'm not going to actually cover the crime itself. The information is out there.

I personally have Wambaugh's "Echoes in the Darkness" and "Engaged to Murder" by Loretta Schwart-Noble but there have been developments since the publication of these books.

Here's the link -

https://youtu.be/9c-Ned1OG90