Leonard Nimoy leaves me In Search of .... the rest of the story

I became aware of this crime thanks to a recently purchased "In Search of .." DVD boxset.

The eleventh episode of season one, which originally aired on May 26, 1977, focused on Psychic Detectives. Of special interest to me was the disappearance of Sally Lucas.

A large percentage of the episode's 23 minutes was devoted to explaining how St. Louis-based psychic Beverly Jaegers sensed what had happened to the 36-year-old woman and where her body might be found but at no time did the show's host Leonard Nimoy tell viewers whether or not Sally's killer was caught. Inexcusable, in my opinion, since the crime had been solved.

Allow me to provide some of the answers to questions you may have if you've also seen that episode.

Marysville Journal Tribune -
Aug 25, 1971

Sally Lucas, a housewife and mother of two daughters, living in Town and Country, Missouri (a suburb of St. Louis) was reported missing on August 16, 1971 by her husband Lawrence.

Sally, quite uncharacteristically, had failed to pick up their 12-year-old daughter Susan from the Medsker's Riding Stables, after dropping Susan and Susan's friend Barbara Willbrand off at that location at 11 AM. It was now 7:30 PM, 4 hours after Sally was expected back at the stables. The stables were located near Babler State Park, off of Wild Horse Creek Road.

Lawrence Lucas gave police a photo of Sally, her vital statistics (36-years-old but she could pass for much younger, 5 feet 5 inches tall, 105 pounds, frosted light brown hair) and a description of what Sally had been wearing when they last saw her (a white culotte skirt and a light-colored print blouse and brown strap sandals). Sally was also wearing a diamond pendant necklace, a Christmas gift from her husband, her wedding ring and an antique ring. The estimated value of the jewelry was $2500.

Police were able to track Sally's movements from the time she dropped the two girls off at the stables until she was last scene driving away from the West County Shopping Center in her light green 1969 Pontiac Bonneville convertible at roughly 2:45 PM.

Sally had visited with her friend Sharon Harding between 11:45 and 1 PM, then headed over to the West County Shopping Center where she used her charge card at 2:30 PM to purchase a tennis dress from the Famous-Barr store. The saleslady told police that Mrs. Lucas seemed in a hurry but not ill at ease.

photo from The Department Store Museum website

Fellow West County Center shopper, Annette Portnoy was able to tell police that she had seen a woman, matching Sally's description, getting into a light green Pontiac Bonneville convertible which had been parked two spaces away from her.

Annette recalled being uneasy as she left the shopping center because she thought a man was following her from the mall's front entrance back to her car. However, once she was safely inside her vehicle and looked around, there was no sign of him.

The Bonneville was leaving the mall's parking lot at the same time as Annette and for awhile it was directly in front of her. In fact, Annette was close enough to see the other woman's face reflected in the Bonneville's rear view mirror; she caught a look of fear and desperation in the eyes of the driver. The convertible's top was down and the car was driving very slowly. Annette saw no other passengers and thought her suspicions were unfounded. Finally, Mrs. Portnoy passed the Pontiac, just west of the intersection of Highway 244 and Manchester Road. This was 2:45 PM.

At 3:50 PM, Vernon Storie was on Wild Horse Creek Road, driving home from work, and found himself behind a slow-moving light green 1969 Pontiac Bonneville convertible. After a mile and a half, Vernon passed on the car's left and saw a woman matching Sally's description behind the wheel. The top was up and his vision obscured but he definitely saw a "fairly good-sized" man in the passenger seat.

At roughly 4:30 PM, two sisters, Dorothy Baumgras and Dora Adams, driving on Wild Horse Creek Road in the vicinity of the Poehlman Road intersection, observed a 1969 or 1970 green Pontiac Bonneville convertible parked about 2 feet off the road. Mrs. Baumgras observed a heavy set white male standing near the partly open door of the car, with one hand on the door and the other "hooked down to the side," apparently urinating. Driving at 5 m.p.h. they passed within 2 feet of the man. He was dark-haired, stout, fat, had a dirty face and wore a dirty white T-shirt.

At this point, the trail went cold. Nobody could recall seeing Sally or her Bonneville after August 16th. The Missouri Highway Patrol had conducted air searches of West St. Louis County in an attempt to find the missing car but came up empty.

One week after his wife's disappearance, Lawrence received a credit card bill showing that one of Sally's cards had been used to purchase a transistor radio at 4:45 PM on August 16th at the Central Hardware store in St, Charles, Missouri. Police retrieved the receipt and while Lawrence thought the handwriting might be his wife's he also stated that it appeared unnatural. Also, the receipt was signed using Lawrence's name and not her own, as was the norm. The address given to the salesman was 10306 Lackland Road. This address meant nothing to Lawrence Lucas. Nor should it have.

Lawrence Lucas was desperate for answers and turned to two noted psychics - Jeane Dixon, who in 1957 had famously predicted that the winner of the 1960 Presidential election would be a Democrat and that he would be "assassinated or die in office," and David Hoy, who in 1967 had foreseen the collapse of the Silver Bridge.

The results of these psychic sessions were published on August 25, 1971 in the Daily Notes, a Missouri newspaper. Jeane Dixon said the only impression she got was that Mrs. Lucas "disappeared while shopping and had driven west." David Hoy was willing to go a little further out on a limb and told Lawrence that he thought Sally was well and somewhere in Florida. David Hoy was closer to the truth. Unfortunately, his ESP was only revealing the location of Sally's car.

At 4 AM on August 27, 1971, Sgt. Charles Buckley, a Panama City, Florida police officer ran the license plate number of a 1969 green Pontiac convertible with Missouri plates that he had seen legally parked in the same location of a camping and parking area near Panama City Beach for three nights in a row. The computer identified the car as belonging to Sally Lucas and there was additional information - "Missing person - foul play feared."

Sgt. Buckley approached the vehicle and found a burly man sleeping inside. Sgt. Buckley woke the man up, asked for identification and then quizzed Anthony Paul Damico about the disappearance of Sally Lucas.

Damico, visibly shaken by the inquiry, "jumped back about a foot and his hands started trembling. His whole body started shaking. He tried to say something but he just stuttered for 30 to 45 seconds." Finally, when he did speak it was to ask for an attorney. Sgt. Buckley placed Damico under arrest. The immediate charge was suspicion of auto theft.

First Damico and then the Bonneville were transported back to the police station.

Officers searched the vehicle. Items of interest included several charge cards, a driver's license and a Social Security card all issued to Sally Lucas. They also recovered a Campbell's Soup hat, a notebook containing handwritten entries with an indication that $60 was received from an Art Buschmann on August 16th, a matchbook advertising the Mini-Steak House on Highway 50 in California, Missouri plus the tennis dress purchased by Sally Lucas at Famous-Barr Co. on August 16, 1971.

A handwriting sample provided by Damico tied him to the notebook found in the car and his meticulous record keeping would help piece together events leading up to and following the abduction of Sally Lucas.

All items of evidence were recorded and then returned to the vehicle before the Bonneville was parked in a storage lot to await the arrival of the FBI.

Lawrence Lucas was notified and he immediately hopped on a plane to Florida. Lawrence Lucas visited Damico in prison. "I tried to play on his sympathy. I showed him pictures of the children  (Susan, aged 12 and Kathy, recently turned 16) and told him they needed their mother." Mr. Lucas needn't have bothered.

On August 28, 1971, Missouri Police officers Sgt. Kiriakos and Chief Hogan arrived in Florida and questioned Damico about Sally Lucas. Damico couldn't deny knowing Mrs. Lucas because he was driving her car and he did accurately describe her to police but Damico claimed Sally and another man had picked him up as he hitchiked from Missouri to Florida. Following behind the Bonneville was a Volkswagon bus driven by another anonymous male. Both vehicles stopped for the night in West Memphis, Arkansas and parked under the Mississippi River Bridge. According to Damico, everyone but him engaged in a sex orgy and took drugs. That not being his scene, he asked to borrow the Bonneville and Sally Lucas willingly gave him the car keys. That was the last he saw of Sally. He then drove from Memphis, Arkansas to Biloxi, Mississippi and from Biloxi to Panama City, Florida.

On August 29th, while transporting Damico back to Missouri, Chief Hogan took the opportunity to tell Damico that they didn't think he was telling the truth the night before when questioned. So Damico altered his story.

In this second version of events, Damico was at a restaurant on St. Charles Rock Road in St. Louis County on August 17, 1971. A Volkswagen bus pulled up and someone he knew as William J. Atler called to appellant, inviting him to accompany that party to Florida. Appellant accepted the invitation. In the back of the bus he saw a woman he identified as Mrs. Lucas, who appeared to be frightened. They started out, with a green Pontiac following them, and went to a Central Hardware store in St. Charles, where appellant was told by Atler to purchase a Sony radio with the credit card provided by Atler. Appellant purchased the radio, using the credit card. From this point the two vehicles traveled south, ending up beneath the bridge at West Memphis, Arkansas. At this location they started playing a stereo tape player and taking pills. Atler told Mrs. Lucas to remove all her clothes, and he and the other male (called Tim) raped her and Atler forced her to perform an unnatural sex act. Appellant then got the keys from Atler, borrowed the Pontiac and drove off as previously stated.

Police were no closer to finding Sally Lucas. While he had now admitted to using her credit card, Damico was sticking to his story that Sally was alive and in Florida.

St. Louis Post-Dispatch - Aug 31, 1971

On August 30, 1971, Missouri police interviewed Damico in front of a video camera. At one point in the examination Sgt. Kiriakos said, "Tony, once you got the car and you had all of Mrs. Lucas' property, why didn't you get rid of it? If you had got rid of it there could have been no way we could have tied you to this vehicle." Damico answered, "Well, I don't know, maybe I just wanted to get caught."

And just who is Anthony Paul Damoco? Did he have any connection to Sally Lucas?

Police ran a check on Anthony Paul Damico from Hazelwood, Missouri and noticed the strange coincidence that his childhood address was 10306 Lackland Road. This is the same address given to the hardware store clerk for the purchase of the radio using Sally Lucas's credit card.

St. Louis Post-Dispatch -
September 27, 1966

Damico had a criminal record with more than 20 arrests including the September 26, 1966 abduction at gunpoint of  Mrs. David Resheske and her 5-year-old son Philip from the Northwest Plaza Shopping Center parking lot in St. Ann, MO. He really just wanted their car.

Damico released the Resheskes unharmed at the corner of Missouri Bottom and Ferguson Lane in Bridgeton, MO (a mere 15 minutes from the abduction site) but relieved the woman of her credit cards and the $17.00 she had in her purse. Mrs. Resheske and her son walked to a nearby house and phoned the police.

Ninety minutes later, Damico used the woman's Cadillac convertible as a getaway car following his robbery of Schnuck's Supermarket. He'd gotten away with roughly $500.00 then abandoned the car.

Two days later, police arrested Damico for these crimes. He was 19-years-old. This would be his first conviction and prison sentence. Damico served thirteen months of a three year sentence for armed robbery.

Anthony Damico had been incarcerated in the Missouri State Prison on various armed robbery charges between 1967-1970.

At the time of Damico's August 27, 1971 arrest, there was an outstanding warrant issued in St. Louis County three days prior to Sally Lucas's disappearance for failure to appear in court and he had two other court cases pending. One relating to a bogus check charge and another involving auto theft.

Using the notebook found in Sally Lucas' car, police reconstructed Damico's movements and expenditures.

They spoke with Art Buschmann who had been mentioned in the notebook. Art was an old friend of Damico's and the owner of the Mini-Steak House. At approximately 9 p. m. on August 16th, Damico appeared at the Mini-Steak House. He was introduced by Art to a man called C. D. Pipes. Damico was wearing a dark T-shirt with a slit in the sleeve; light blue trousers and a polka-dot Campbell Soup hat. He was unshaven and soiled. Pipes asked Damico if he had been in a street fight, to which he responded, "Worse than that." Damico told Art Buschmann that he needed "some road money." Art replied that he did not have much money and could not help him. Damico took three pieces of jewelry (later identified as the two rings and diamond pendant of Sally Lucas) out of a brown paper, and offered them to Art, who expressed no interest in ladies' jewelry. Damico repeated that he needed road money and said, "We done something in St. Louis this afternoon that we might have got seen at." After further conversation Art said he would rake up $50 if that would help. Damico countered with an offer of $60 for the jewelry. Art took $60 out of the cash register and handed it to his old friend, who took a book of matches on which the name and telephone number of the restaurant were printed, saying, "Art, I'll probably be gone for about six months. When I cool off I'll give you a ring." Art placed the jewelry in the cash register. The next day he showed it to Pipes. Art later sold the jewelry to a man in Eldon, MO who in turn resold it.

Demarco checked into a motel in Biloxi, Mississippi, stayed 2 days and left without paying his bill.

What little money Demarco did have he spent on food, gas, amusement parks and gambling on dog races. He sold the radio purchased with Sally's credit card for less than $5.00, he sold the Bonneville's spare tire for $10. When police arrested him in Florida, Demarco was down to 18 cents and a jar of mixed peanut butter and jelly.

Entering into the story now is Bevy Jaegers. Beverly Jaegers was teaching ESP at a University City, Missouri night school when she contacted the police to ask that they provide her students with a few personal items belonging to Sally Lucas so that they could check their finding against those being reported in the newspapers. Police sent over a powder puff and nightgown.

Bevy Jaegers

When Bev picked up the nightgown, pain radiated from her skull and spread down her neck. She later told the Chicago Tribune, "I felt like I was dying, like I had been hit on the right side of the head." She held the nightgown in her left hand and scribbled down descriptions of what she was seeing.

These notes were turned over the the Missouri State Police and, impressed what what they'd read, they allowed Bevy to sit behind the wheel of the Bonneville. Again she was bombarded with images - horses' heads. A small bridge. The letters C and CC. The numbers 3 and 4. A creek bed. An airport, A poker. An abandoned, decaying church. Pillar mailboxes. Bevy again felt the blinding pain to the right side of her head. She became nauseous, broke into a sweat. Bevy couldn't get out of the car fast enough and then broke into tears.

On Saturday, September 4, 1971, Bevy, her husband Ray and one of Bevy's students named Jim Mueller used these clues to pinpoint an area where they felt Sally's body would be found. Bevy's sense of dread was very strong but the six foot tall weeds made the area impenetrable and the hour was late. They planned to return the following day with the family dog however, a wild rainstorm rolled in that day, making it impossible for Jaegers to return to the area they’d been exploring.

On Sunday, September 5, 1971, at 5:30 PM, after the storm cleared, Mr. and Mrs. Albert Dieckmann pulled their car over on Wild Horse Creek Road to walk their dog. They noticed “a peculiar smell” hanging in the humid September air. They asked property owner Alvin Steines if he had recently buried an animal in that area. He had not.

Alvin Steines began searching his property while the Dieckmann's phoned the police.

At the fork of the creek, which runs adjacent to the road, the odor was very pronounced. Steines followed the creek bed off to the right. Up on the bank in an indentation he discovered some human remains. Steines led the authorities back to the site. The remains were located .2 of a mile north of the intersection of Ossenfort Road and Wild Horse Creek Road, some twenty-five to thirty feet from the road, beyond the creek bed.

St. Louis Post-Dispatch - September 7, 1971

The badly decomposed fully-dressed body, later identified thru dental records as Sally Lucas, lay 15 yards from a small bridge, near the junction of Routes C and CC. Nearby were the Spirit of St. Louis Airport, a horse ranch called Poker Flats, an abandoned Assembly of God church, a row of pillar mailboxes. The right side of her skull smashed in and the right side of her jaw was fractured.

Darkness quickly descended on the crime scene so police opted to wait until 8 AM the following morning to remove the body and gather evidence. A guard was placed at the scene to avoid any outside interference. And rightly so. Wild Horse Creek Road soon became clogged with lookie-loos wanting to see the depression where the body was found.

a 1979 image of Dr. Gantner from a
National Association of Counties periodcial

Dr. George E. Gantner, chief medical examiner of St. Louis County, determined Sally Lucas had died from a oval shaped fracture of the right side of the skull. The fractured area was about three inches in diameter. The weapon could have been a rock but Dr. Gantner felt it more likely was the heel of shoe brought down with tremendous force while her head rested on an even surface. Basically, someone had stomped down on Sally's head. The blow would have been so severe as to fracture the skull and jawbone, cause brain damage and massive internal bleeding. One single fatal head injury.

Laboratory tests on Demarco's shoes revealed nothing of evidentiary value.

Dr. Gantner did concede that the body was so badly decomposed that he couldn't say without 100% certainty that there hadn't been a fatal flesh wound delivered before the blow to her head. Judging from the body's unusual position, he felt she had been placed in the ground before rigor mortis occurred and he was comfortable placing her date of death as August 16, 1971.

Police now charged Anthony Paul Demarco with first degree murder in addition to robbery.

Prosecutors asked for the death penalty. The trial was scheduled to begin May 22, 1972 but not in St. Louis county. A change of venue had been granted due to the publicity surrounding the crime.

A nationwide search for "William J. Atler"  who was a key player in Demarco's alibi proved fruitless.

The defense unsuccessfully argued that any evidence seized during the search of the car should be excluded but the police didn't need Demarco's permission to search the car as it didn't belong to him.

The evidence presented at his trial was largely circumstantial but it was sufficiently convincing. The prosecution called 40 witnesses to the stand; the defense called only 5. The jury was allowed to see the videotape of Demarco saying "Well, I don't know, maybe I just wanted to get caught."

Annette Portnoy positively identified Anthony Demarco as the man she had seen outside the mall and in the parking lot on the day Sally Lucas disappeared.

St. Louis Post-Dispatch,
June 2, 1972

Lawrence Lucas testified that his marriage was a happy one and also that after he'd flown down to Florida to identify his wife's car, he and his daughters were spending the weekend at Lake of the Ozarks just to escape the publicity surrounding the events. It was there that he got the call from police to say Sally's body had been found.

On cross-examination, Demarco's attorney Daniel O'Brien asked Lawrence to explain why he'd phoned several local motels looking for his wife if their marriage was a happy one. Lawrence stated that he was worried his wife might be sick or have amnesia because Sally has apparently failed to recognize a friend that had seen her on the day she disappeared.

Demarco's old friend Art Buschmann helped broker a deal for the stolen jewelry belonging to Sally Lucas. This caused a bit of controversy as the prosecution had spent $2,250.00 to purchase evidence and not all of that money went to person who currently owned the jewelry. The first installment of $1,000 ended up in the hands of an informant, Jerry Miller, who had initiated contact with the prosecution because he had a tip on where the jewelry might be found.

The final witness testifying against Demarco was his now ex-wife Margaret Louise Brett. Anthony and Margaret were married on January 17, 1970 and separated six months later. Margaret had filed for a divorce in September 1970 and the divorce was granted in February 1972. They had no children together but Margaret had 4 children from a previous marriage. Anthony was Margaret's fourth husband, she his first wife. The former Mrs. Demarco helped establish the defendant's familiarity with the area. Before and during their brief marriage, she and Anthony would frequently go crawfishing at Wild Horse Creek. In fact, the area where Sally's body was found was a favored picnic spot. Margaret had even visited Anthony Demarco in prison, prior to the discovery of Sally's remains, in an effort to get him to cooperate with police. She needn't have bothered.

On July 1, 1972, following a 12 day trial, the jury found Demarco guilty. One sole juror refused to assign the death penalty to a man convicted using circumstantial evidence. Demarco was sentenced to life in prison.

Our story doesn't end there though.

On Friday, April 13, 1973, Lawrence Lucas, now 42-years-old and recently married to a 42-year-old divorcee named Theresa Marie Million, was arrested and charged with "lewd and lascivious behavior" involving six girls, all between the ages of 14 and 18. Lawrence was accused of repeatedly exposing himself, fondling the girls and committing statutory rape.

St. Louis Post-Dispatch, May 4, 1973

Lawrence Lucas was freed after posting a $1000.00 bond. A Grand Jury was convened after a month long investigation into the allegations. The jury voted to proceed through the sexual psychopath statue which seeks to treat criminals rather than punish them.

Neighbors were shocked and disbelieving. One neighbor told a St. Louis Post-Dispatch reporter, "I'd like to think that if these things happened, that they were after Sally's death. After all, a thing like that could really alter your senses."

However, according to police, most of the alleged offenses occurred in Lucas's own home and the crimes had take place over a period of six years. Sally Lucas would still have been alive.

The offenses reportedly came to light after a runaway girl related the incident to juvenile authorities.

On April 30, 1973, one of the six girls and her father sued Lawrence Lucas for $1,050.00 in damages because the girl and her father had been "dishonored and disgraced" and because the father had been required to provide medical and psychiatric care for his 15-year-old daughter. Their suit alleged Lawrence had been engaged in sexual activities with the girl since she was 9-years-old.

On August 15, 1973, after being examined by two psychiatrists, Lawrence H. Lucas was declared a "Criminal Sexual Psychopath" and sent to the Fulton State Hospital by St. Louis Circuit Court Judge George E. Schaaf. Lawrence's being legally declared a "psychopath" allowed him to avoid criminal prosecution.

Daniel O'Brien
St. Louis Post-Dispatch,
May 19, 1968

Anthony Paul Demarco's attorney was delighted.

Daniel O'Brien immediately expressed his intention to file paperwork for an appeal on the grounds that Lawrence Lucas had perjured himself on the stand when he testified about the happy state of his marriage and that Sally's possible knowledge of her husband's deviant behavior gave Lawrence motive to kill her.

O'Brien went a step further and claimed the prosecuting attorneys knew about this sordid side of Lawrence's personality and withheld this information from the defense. The District Attorneys office denied these allegations and said they knew nothing of Lawrence Lucas's molestation of young girls.

Daniel O'Brien's appeal on behalf of his client was denied and the conviction upheld.

Lawrence was released from the Fulton State Hospital after a mere two weeks of confinement but Judge Schaaf, who had placed Lawrence there in the first place, revoked Lawrence's freedom ASAP. Lawrence would remain confined in the Fulton State Hospital until late in February 1974 when he was placed on parole with the condition that he receive psychiatric treatment from a private physician at least once a week for the first five years of his parole.

And while we all know that "Life in Prison" often means convicted criminals will be eligible for parole at some point, I'll be citing "Murder at Pope's Cafeteria" written by Ronald Martin and published in 2018, for information regarding Anthony Paul Demarco life behind bars. According to the Ronald Martin, Demarco "was released after serving only approximately five years in prison for Sally Lucas's killing." I can neither confirm nor deny that.

Bevy Jaeger's reputation as a reliable psychic grew. By 1973, her U.S. Psychic Rescue Squad (the world’s first psychic detective unit) was assisting on other cases. In 1974, Bevy obtained her private investigator's license. What had started as the U.S. Psychic Rescue Squad soon became the U.S. Psi Squad after the group was overwhelmed with telephone calls from little old ladies who had lost their eyeglasses or their cats. The squad laid down ground rules: to only accept cases from law enforcement, and only when approached; to never accept money for their work; to never contact a victim’s family; to keep all cases confidential; and to avoid publicity at any cost. Bevy authored multiple books on ESP and Palmistry and died on December 20, 2001. - Thanks to Stefene Russell and St. Louis Magazine's July 2007 for the update on Bevy and her Psi Squad.

I've uploaded the portion of the "In Search of..." episode directly relating to this case to my As Close To Crime YouTube channel. You can find it here - https://youtu.be/7_aED8tlUek

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."