The Villisca Ax Murder House
Villisca, Iowa
INTRODUCTION
By the turn of the twentieth century, small towns lined the railroads that traversed America. Villisca, Iowa, was one of these places, the epitome of “small-town America”: safe, friendly, and community oriented—a good place to raise a family.
Local lore claims Villisca means “pretty place” or “pleasant view,” but Native Americans of the Sauk and Fox tribes offer a more sinister etymology. Derived from the word waliska, its name means “evil spirit.”
On the evening of June 9, 1912, the Moore family—Josiah (43), Sarah (39), Herman (11), Katherine (10), Boyd (8), and Paul (5)—and overnight guests Lena Stillinger (11) and her sister Ina (8) attended a highly anticipated children’s program at the local Presbyterian church. The program ended late, after 9:30 P.M. The town of Villisca was dark. There was no moonlight, and a dispute between the municipal power company and city officials had resulted in the streetlights being turned off.
The Stillinger girls, afraid to walk alone through the darkened streets, telephoned home seeking permission to stay with the Moores. The family and their young guests made their way home and settled into bed sometime around 10 P.M. When the sun came up Monday morning, a neighbor doing her wash noticed how unusually still the Moore house was. By the time the clock struck 7 A.M., curiosity turned to concern and she telephoned Ross Moore, Josiah’s brother.
Ross telephoned the house. Getting no answer, he called his brother’s store to find he had not yet arrived at work. Growing more concerned by the minute, Ross made haste to the Moore house. Along with the neighbor, Ross circled the house, calling out to his brother’s family, looking for any signs of life.
At 8:30 Ross pulled out his keys and opened the locked door. Once inside he made his way through the kitchen and parlor toward the downstairs bedroom. Almost immediately, he was confronted by the horrific sight of two bloody and lifeless figures lying in the small single bed in the downstairs sewing room.
Ross stopped and immediately called Villisca marshal Hank Horton, who arrived promptly to investigate. Once inside, Horton methodically went through the tiny house of horrors.
“There’s someone murdered in every bed!” he exclaimed in disbelief.
The only clue as to what had befallen the eight victims was a bloody ax placed against the wall of the sewing room. Each victim had been bludgeoned with the blunt end of the ax until no face was recognizable. It was later discovered that at least one of the Moores had been struck with the sharp end as well. The bloodied faces of each victim, and, oddly, every mirror and window in the home, had been covered with items of clothing or blankets.
Word spread like wildfire through the close-knit community, and soon the house was overrun with police, neighbors, townsfolk, and curiosity seekers. Any hope of securing the crime scene was lost, and vital potential evidence was destroyed in the frenzy of activity.
An outraged and fearful public cried out for justice and a culprit. Authorities sent out posses and bloodhounds, looking for any “stranger” who might have committed such a monstrous crime. When no viable “outsider” suspect was found, it appeared the killer was one of Villisca’s own. Accusations flew like daggers, and a frenzied terror overtook the community. As potential suspects came and went, authorities narrowed the list of suspects down to three.
At the top of the short list was F. F. Jones, a wealthy politician, banker, and business rival of Josiah Moore. Josiah had worked for Jones in his farm implement business but had quit to start his own venture, taking the lucrative John Deere account with him. Local rumors of an affair between Jones’s daughter-in-law Dona and Josiah Moore were rife at the time, further adding to speculation of Jones’s involvement.
The prevailing theory was that Jones had orchestrated the hit on Moore. A patsy named William “Blackie” Mansfield was targeted as the man hired by Jones to kill the Moores.
F. F. Jones and William Mansfield were indicted for the murders in 1916, but the case was quickly dismissed.
The victims’ families and half the town were convinced Jones had hired Mansfield to kill Josiah Moore and remained steadfast in their quest for justice. A private detective named James Wilkerson led the charge against Jones, determined to close the case once and for all. Jones retaliated by suing Wilkerson for slander. Wilkerson’s attorney argued that the slander case was not valid because his accusations were all true! They went to trial and instead of Wilkerson relenting, he turned the tide on his accuser, essentially trying Jones, now a state senator, again for murder. Neither charge made it past the grand jury.
The people of Villisca and the Moore and Stillinger families were devastated; it seemed the eight slain victims would never be avenged. But in 1917 another offering was made to the gods of justice in the form of Reverend Lyn George J. Kelly. Kelly, a visiting Presbyterian minister, had arrived in Villisca just days before the murders. Almost immediately, his odd behavior had raised eyebrows.
Kelly was a waif of a man, about 5'2", 119 pounds, schizophrenic, and a possible pedophile who had been arrested for sending obscene materials through the mail. He spent the better part of a year in a mental hospital in 1914. His proclivity for young girls and a witness’s statement that he had known details of the Villisca crime before the bodies had been discovered led to a criminal investigation in 1917.
Kelly was an outsider, an Englishman, not of the Villisca community. While in custody, he supposedly confessed to the murders three times, each version being slightly different. It is likely these confessions were coerced or beaten out of him, yet vivid details painted a horrific picture, leading many to believe he was somehow involved in the massacre.
According to his confession, on the night of the murders Kelly hadn’t been able to sleep, so he had gone for a walk. While walking he heard God’s voice speaking to him, telling him to go forth and “slay utterly.” A dark shadow appeared, leading him to the Moores’ house where God spoke to him again: “Suffer the little children to come unto me.” Kelly said he was in a trancelike state following the directions of the Lord, who led him to the ax by the shed. He picked it up as ordered, went inside, and killed Josiah and Sarah. The voice told him to do the same to the four sleeping children in the next room. Afterward, the voice said, “There’s still more to be done,” and he descended the stairs into the sewing room and quickly killed Ina and Lena Stillinger.
Vivid confession notwithstanding, most doubted Kelly had actually committed the murders, stating the obvious fact that he lacked the physical attributes to do such a thing. The first of two trials ended in a hung jury, eleven-to-one for acquittal. The second trial led to an acquittal. Most believed Kelly was deeply mentally disturbed but doubted he actually committed the crimes.
No one else was ever tried for the murders.
The massacre faded into the memory of the town like the bloodstained walls in the Moore house, whitewashed again and again in an attempt to cover the past. The house remained vacant for a number of years before a series of families passed through. Occasionally an occupant reported something strange, but for the most part the house remained quiet, paranormally speaking.
In 1993, Darwin Linn bought the property with the aim of restoring it, choosing not to forget the horrors of 1912. Linn turned the home into a living museum, opening it up to the outside world for the first time in nearly 100 years. Soon visitors reported strange experiences. It was evident that the notorious Villisca Ax Murder House was haunted.
Several television programs have filmed episodes there, including Scariest Places on Earth, Ghost Adventures, and My Ghost Story, as well as an award-winning documentary, Villisca: Living with a Mystery by Kelly and Tammy Rundle, featuring commentary by Dr. Ed Epperly, aka “The Ax Man.” Epperly, the expert on the Villisca murders and the history surrounding the case, admits that after decades of research he is still baffled by the events.
Reports of startling, sometimes terrifying experiences continue to pour out of the modest house. Dark ominous shadows, unusual cold spots, disembodied voices, a young girl’s muffled cries, children’s laughter, unseen hands rolling a ball, and doors that open and close by themselves are a few of the supernatural claims. Heartbreakingly, spirits of the murdered children seem to linger shyly in the shadows.
The reputation of the crudely but appropriately named Villisca Ax Murder House grows with each visit, each inquiry into its painful past. The deaths of eight innocents live on in the memories of the thousands of souls who make the pilgrimage to Iowa to pay their respects and commune with the spirits of the most haunted house in the United States.
Take the Haunted Tour—The Property
The small, nondescript, white two-story house sits in a quiet residential neighborhood. If not for the sign announcing Villisca Ax Murder House on the front lawn, passersby would hardly give it a second glance. The red trim accents on the house match the sign’s letters, garishly painted to look like dripping blood.
Still standing is the red wooden barn that housed the Moores’ horse and buggy team. Between the house and barn sits a utility shed where the killer(s) found the ax used in the grisly crime. Just yards away is a small well with an iron hand pump. From the side, two semicircular windows, reminiscent of the Amityville Horror house, peer out like eerie eyes. The small porch remains vacant and the front door is permanently locked.
The current owner, Martha Linn, wife of the late Darwin Linn, maintains the meticulously restored former Moore home, keeping the integrity of the era with original and authentic reproductions of the furnishings and décor.
Take the Haunted Tour—The Kitchen
Entry to the house is gained via a long wooden ramp at the back door that leads into a compact kitchen.
To the right of the door is a cupboard, its white painted exterior worn with age. The pantry, basically a walk-in closet with shelves and a work space, sits to the side. To the left is the sink with an old-fashioned hand pump poised to bring water into the home.
Directly across is the stove where a busy Sarah Moore prepared meals for her family. An empty teakettle awaits use that will never come. A coffee grinder and oil lamp adorn the top of the stove. In the corner is a round wooden washing machine. An antique telephone hangs on the wall above a small table fitted to the cramped space. An icebox sits on the adjacent screened-in porch, which once held a puzzling clue to the mysterious events of the night of the murders.
A trayless wooden high chair sits between the entrance to the living room and the stairs that lead to the second-floor bedrooms. The wooden floors are well worn and the green-and-white walls have seen better days. The kitchen is ordinary, unpretentious, and poetically beautiful: a snapshot in time. Its simplicity disguises the horrors unleashed there a hundred years ago.
Personal Experience—
Daniel Hooven: Initiation by Fire
It was November 11, 2011, and I was new to the Resident Undead team, new to the paranormal, and here I was at the most notorious haunted house in the country, the site of a grisly unsolved multiple murder. Joining me were team leader Adam Kimmell, Jim Leopardo, and Villisca local Johnny Houser. This was my very first ghost hunt, my initiation into the paranormal.
When we first arrived at the house I was surprised by how small it was—tiny, actually—and by the fact that it was located in a residential neighborhood. The only clue to its horrific history was the big white sign painted with dripping bloodred letters announcing Villisca Ax Murder House. Remove that and we could be anywhere in small-town America.
Inside, the house has been restored to its 1912 condition, with as much of its authenticity preserved as possible. I had the uncomfortable sense of being in someone’s house . . . because I was in someone’s house, even though that someone was dead. I felt intrusive, like an uninvited guest. Seeing a family’s everyday objects, especially those of the children, was unsettling. This was going to be a long night.
After a very quick tour of the property and house, it was time to start our investigation. Adrenaline pumped through my body. I was ready. Adam had a plan of attack for the night and knew exactly what he wanted from us, but I needed a few lessons on equipment before we started.
I was on the first floor in the tiny kitchen, audio recorder in hand, trying to familiarize myself with the device. I hesitantly began my first EVP session. It was a moment I’ll never forget. As I asked questions out loud, hoping to communicate with the spirits in the house, Adam suddenly jumped out of the pantry and scared the crap out of me! After the initial shock, we laughed it off and got back to business.
I had no idea how profound that moment was until Adam and I played back the recorder. We heard the distinct sound of a little girl’s laughter! We had not heard anything at the time of recording, yet it was unmistakably there on playback. Was this laughter in response to the prank Adam had played on me?
I was stunned by the ghostly sound of a child—Lena, Ina, or Catherine—making her presence known to us in the house in which she had been murdered. My initiation into the paranormal world had begun!
Take the Haunted Tour—The Parlor (Living Room)
The wooden floor creaks as you enter the living room. Beige walls are accented with a dark brown trim. On the shaded windows, delicate white lace curtains filter the sunlight coming through, casting a soft glow over everything in the room. The black iron potbellied stove looks like a short-legged octopus, its longest tentacle reaching up to grab its prey on the floor above.
Black-and-white pictures of the Moore family hang on the walls to remind visitors whose home they’re in. A pillowless brown leather sofa and a few small tables adorned with flowers, books, and various knickknacks add a homey touch. In the corner, an upright piano sits silent. Above it hangs a reproduction of Leonardo da Vinci’s iconic painting The Last Supper. One can’t help but wonder what the eight victims had for their last meal, oblivious to the doom that awaited them that sultry Iowa evening in June 1912.
Personal Experience—
Adam Kimmell (Lead Investigator, Resident Undead)
Our night in the Villisca Murder House was full of unexplained paranormal activity, some subtle, some not. Daniel and I captured an EVP of creepy childlike laughter in the kitchen and were ready to explore the rest of the house. About halfway through the evening, we gathered in the living room to try a few more experiments. I wanted to “amp up” the energy by bringing in someone who would be familiar to any spirits lingering in the house: Johnny Houser, a Villisca resident and house tour guide.
Tools of the Trade
Spirit Box: also known as a ghost box, Frank’s Box, or a shack hack; a modified AM/FM transistor radio that continually scans the radio dial, stopping for a fraction of a second on each station. The white noise and audio remnants heard are thought to be manipulated by spirits in order to communicate with investigators.
The SB-7 is a similar device created by Gary Galka specifically for instrumental transcommunication (ITC), which is the use of a technological device as a tool for communicating with ghosts.
Johnny lived right next door and claimed that activity actually “spilled over” from the Moore house to his own. He was featured on the program My Ghost Story: Caught on Camera in April 2012, in which he told the harrowing tale of living next to the notorious Ax Murder House. His presence definitely had a noticeable effect. Suddenly, the sleepy house came alive with activity.
I brought out the spirit box, hoping to communicate with the spirits. Johnny sat on the stairs, I stood to his right while Dan filmed with the infrared (IR) camera.
I asked, “Can you give the names of who is here right now?”
The box answered, “The same old reverend.”
I knew a Reverend Kelly was a suspect in the murder case and had even confessed to the crime at one point during the investigation. Guilty or not, I believe he either had some knowledge of the murders or stumbled upon the crime scene after the fact. I theorize that he was the one who covered the mirrors and put clothes over the victim’s faces, realizing this was an act of evil.
We continued on with the spirit box session and were bombarded with responses! We heard my name, “Adam,” twice, and the names of Johnny, Jim, and Dan. A woman’s voice said, “Sarah,” as well as “help.”
We also picked up some very unsettling responses such as, “Satan,” “hack it,” and “confession.”
Dan and I were commenting on the response “confession,” when the same chilling voice said, “Better catch up with the Bible, gonna need it.”
The onslaught of messages continued; some of the other responses we captured were, “Help me,” “traumatic brain and skull,” “get out,” and “kill you.”
The entire session lasted only about five minutes, but this was an incredible amount of evidence that tied in directly to the house and the murders. I wholeheartedly believe there are many ghosts inside the house. Who they are remains a mystery. Although we heard a little girl’s laughter, I don’t believe the spirits of the murdered Moore and Stillinger children are still in the house. I don’t want to believe that; it’s too sad. There is a negative energy, possibly that of the murderer, or one of the murderers, lingering inside the house. This energy attracts more negative energy, like a magnet, drawing it into the space and holding it there.
* * *
As the night wore on, the rain outside became more intense. After exploring the upstairs rooms, Daniel and I returned to the living room, this time dressed in period attire, in an attempt to trigger more communication with the spirits in the house.
I began a real-time EVP session, short bursts of questions followed by immediate playback of the file. Instead of EVPs we heard what sounded like whispered conversation—the spirits seemed to be well aware of our presence and were discussing things among themselves.
Addressing the spirits, I said, “There’s a thunderstorm outside. Is anyone scared?”
Immediately we heard two male voices carrying on a conversation. Although the first part was hard to make out, a second, clearer voice said, “Why are they here?”
Dan and I both heard the ghostly voices and pushed to hear more.
“We’re hearing voices that shouldn’t be here . . .”
I was interrupted by another voice: “Where?”
“. . . which leads me to believe someone’s here who shouldn’t be here,” I concluded.
These disembodied voices were audible, intelligent, and puzzled by our presence. Whom did we hear? Were these the voices of the killers? It’s been theorized that there must have been two culprits, that one person alone could not have pulled off such a bloody and brutal crime by himself. Or had we captured a piece of conversation between two spirits that had nothing to do with the murders but were drawn to this nexus of energy created by the haunting?
Take the Haunted Tour—The Sewing Room (Lena and Ina’s Room)
Off the living room is one of three bedrooms in the house. Although originally for sewing, the room was used as a guest bedroom at times. The bright blue walls match the multicolored quilt atop the single bed in the corner. At the foot of the bed is a large wooden storage trunk just feet from the doorway. A turn-of-the-century sewing machine sits between the bed’s white metal headboard and the dresser on the opposite wall.
The mirror on the dresser is covered with cloth, just as it was the night of the murders. Ina Stillinger’s Bible, left atop the dresser, was used to identify the two “extra” victims found mutilated beyond recognition inside this tiny room. Lena’s body was disturbingly positioned at the bottom of the bed, undergarments removed, face covered.
Next to the curtained doorway is another dresser, on it a plaque commemorating Lena and Ina Stillinger. Mementos are scattered about, serving as a grim reminder of the innocence lost that tragic night.
The ax used in the heinous crime was found leaning against the wall in this room as if the killer had casually set aside a broom after sweeping the floor. Oddly, a slab of uncut bacon wrapped in cloth, identical to one in the icebox, was found next to the ax. Was this mysterious clue left to confuse authorities, some sort of bizarre calling card, or a mocking gesture to the world, suggesting the victims were nothing but butchered meat?
According to the documentary Villisca: Living with a Mystery, FBI profilers have theorized that the bacon was used as some form of sexual aid in the presence of the half-naked body of Lena Stillinger. An oil lamp with the chimney removed placed at the foot of the bed adds credence to this appalling theory.
* * *
Theories abound, but evidence is fleeting. After over a hundred years, there are still more questions than answers.
Personal Experience—
Daniel Hooven
As part of my “baptism by fire” I was “quarantined,” required to spend time alone in the downstairs bedroom. The space was extremely small, more like a large closet than a bedroom. I did my best to get comfortable, but I couldn’t shake the image in my mind of two butchered children lying in the very spot I occupied. I sat back on the bed, took a deep breath, and prepared for an EVP session.
Nervously, I began my quarantine, hoping to contact any spirits in the room with me. I was about halfway through my session when I felt the room get colder, not a subtle chill but a definitive drop in temperature. My entire body was covered in goose bumps. Then, like something out of a movie, my breath became visible, as if I were outside in the middle of winter. With every exhale, my breath grew more frosty as all the warmth fled the room.
This freaked me out and I wanted to get the hell out of there! Luckily, Adam arrived to relieve me from frigid solitary in the creepy room. He also noticed how cold it was, and the two of us made a hasty exit.
When we reviewed the audio from my digital recorder, we heard a loud childlike shriek at the precise moment Adam had entered the room. I believe Adam startled the spirit with whom I was communicating. I don’t think it was the ghost of Lena, Ina, or any of the Moore children. In fact I don’t believe it was a child at all. I think it was a collection of negative energy manifesting itself, possibly impersonating a child.
Take the Haunted Tour—The Master Bedroom
To access the second floor you must use a narrow S-curved stairwell from the kitchen. The stairs creak noisily as you climb the tight space to the top. The aged, painted wooden steps are splintered and peeling, worn from the thousands of feet that have traveled the short distance from bottom to top and back again—although six pairs of feet never made the return trip down on their own.
The second-floor houses the master bedroom, the children’s room, and the “attic,” an unfinished storage room. As soon as you reach the top of the stairs, you’ve entered the master bedroom. The foot of the bed becomes visible before you reach the landing. There are no doors into this room, no barrier to stop intruders.
Josiah and Sarah Moore closed their eyes for the last time that June night believing their four children were safely tucked in their beds, just a few feet away. Was the killer(s) hiding somewhere in the room? Investigators couldn’t understand how anyone could have climbed the creaky stairs without waking the Moores. Some believed the killer hid in the closet, waiting for the family to fall asleep, but the closets were so packed with clothes it would have been nearly impossible to fit a full-size adult inside.
Josiah must have been the first victim, taken out quickly so the murderous rampage could continue unhindered. Did one blow suffice to kill him? Maybe, although each victim was bludgeoned multiple times with the blunt end of the ax. Forensic specialists discovered that Sarah Moore was hit with the sharp end as well, possibly after her death.
The master bedroom is a small utilitarian space, dark and eerie, and oozing with the memories of a horrible summer night.
Ghost Adventures—
EVPs and Empathy
The notoriety of the hauntings in Villisca captured the attention of Zak Bagans, who brought his crew to Iowa during season four of the Travel Channel’s Ghost Adventures (episode thirteen). Guided by property owner Darwin Linn and local Johnny Houser, the Ghost Adventures Crew (GAC) spent the night locked down in the smallest location in which they’ve filmed.
The night did not disappoint, and the trio collected a bounty of evidence, including a number of EVPs and disturbing spirit box sessions. The ghosts were very cooperative, even providing the names Lena, Paul, Herman, and Reverend Kelly. While some of the evidence presented on the show is debatable, one very disturbing piece of audio sent shivers up and down our spines.
While investigating the upstairs with skeptic and former detective Roy Marshall, they captured an EVP that said, “I . . . killed . . . six . . . kids.”
The audio files were immediately processed by audio/video tech Billy Tolley and played for Villisca expert Johnny Houser. All present agreed the creepy male voice captured was confessing a deadly deed from beyond the grave, an obvious reference to the eight butchered victims, six of whom were children. The voice was not the childlike voice they had captured earlier downstairs but a more menacing and macabre one.
The evil was apparent to everyone present, and the poignancy of the tragedy visibly affected Bagans.
Take the Haunted Tour—The Attic:
“The Devil Lives in Here”
The attic, an unfinished room over the kitchen used for storage, can be accessed only through a tiny door in a closet off the master bedroom. The theory that the killer(s) hid in the attic before emerging in darkness to viciously kill eight people in the middle of the night seems unlikely. It is difficult for an adult to fit through this small doorway, and it would have been virtually impossible to pick through a cluttered and overcrowded attic quietly without awakening the family.
Personal Experience—
Adam Kimmell and Jim Leopardo (Member, Resident Undead)
After a long stormy night in small-town Iowa, we were ready to confront the Devil. The tiny house seemed infested with spirits, and a strong negative energy cowardly hid in the attic. This was our final stop.
We awkwardly made our way through the closet to the miniature door that leads to the dusty, cobweb-filled attic. The attic was much smaller than I imagined, and it was challenging to get the equipment set up the way we needed it. We brought in a couple of chairs from another room so we didn’t have to sit on the splintering wood floor.
We hadn’t completely set up of all our cameras when our recorders picked up several interesting EVPs, including a voice saying, “BOO!”
Was this the ghostly voice of a kid trying to scare us, or an attempt at ironic humor on the part of the entities surrounding us? I guess we’ll never know.
Not aware of the EVPs, we continued with our work. We captured another voice, this one puzzled by what we were doing,
“You’re still in the attic?”
I asked if any spirits were hiding in the attic. Something responded, “I’m here.”
The sound of rain echoed from the roof in an eerie rhythmic barrage. Theoretically, the energy from a storm, especially a thunderstorm, can increase paranormal activity. But the volume of the rain was so loud I thought it would ruin our chances of capturing any audio evidence. With the storm growing outside, we retreated downstairs for a while. Once the rain stopped, we each took another turn up in the attic, in an effort to rattle the Devil’s cage.
Jim Leopardo returned to the attic while the rest of the team did some experimenting in the living room. Jim broke out a device known as a PX box. Used in a similar way to the spirit box, the PX has a built-in vocabulary of several thousand words. Jim was able to get some incredible responses during his final session in the attic.
He settled into one of the folding chairs we had placed inside the cramped space. Almost immediately, the PX began to talk, spewing out a barrage of ghostly banter from a spirit who was eager to communicate.
“Suffer.”
“Who suffered? The family?” Jim questioned.
“Three.”
“Did you enjoy killing the Moore family?”
“Thing, murder.”
“Why did you come back here?”
“Because.”
“We don’t understand why you’d come back to a place—”
Jim’s voice was cut off.
“Proud.”
“You’re proud of what you did here?”
“Like . . . comment, property, story.” Word after word poured out of the box.
Amazed, Jim urged the spirit for more information: “Yeah, we want to put the story out of what really happened.”
Jim told the entity that Dan and I would be coming back to talk as well. The chilling response was, “Hurry, Reverend.”
Jim asked if he enjoyed killing the kids the most, and the response was, “Suffer, hide, paranormal.”
“Yes, we’re paranormal investigators. I don’t know if you’re the actual spirit of the person who killed them . . .”
“Demon, homicidal, murder, murder.”
Jim continued to talk, and the spirit continued to answer.
“Are you up here with me?”
“Eight killed.”
Dan relieved Jim and took his place in the attic, hoping for similar results. Unfortunately, the spirits were silent. No further messages came through.
I wanted to offer up something irresistible to the dark entity: a chance to kill again. I began taunting, going so far as to “tempt” the evil presence with a sharpened ax rigged over my head. We devised a setup so that any slight touch would cause the blade to fall on me. Zak Bagans attempted a similar experiment when filming the Ghost Adventures Villisca episode and survived unscathed. I hoped for the same result.
I was in place under the ax when we all heard something odd. The strange noise, a guttural growl, grew louder each passing moment. These were not animal-nor human-made sounds, but something else, something inhuman. This was a terrifying moment, staring at the ax above my head while ghostly growls came out of the darkness!
No ghost took the bait—I kept my head.
We believe the growling to be a manifestation of evil, the negative energies inside the house. Maybe it was left behind or trapped by the murderer, or maybe it was lured in, attracted to the house, drawn to it like a magnet. Or it’s possible one of the thousands of visitors unknowingly brought it in, and it’s decided to stay.
Take the Haunted Tour—The Children’s Room
Connected to the master bedroom is the slightly larger children’s room. All four of the Moore children shared the room adjacent to their parents’ bedroom. The first thing that catches a visitor’s attention is the crib belonging to Paul Moore, the youngest of the victims, and then the three little beds, adding up to four young lives. They went to sleep one hot summer night, never to awake again in this world.
Actually, we need to think they never woke up during their ordeal. This may be why their spirits still haunt this house. They may not realize what happened to them at all. Or maybe the killer keeps their souls trapped in this purgatory forever, reliving the horrible night of their death over and over and over again.
Tools of the Trade
Infrared (IR) Camera: a specialized night-vision video camera that can record in 0 lux (total darkness) using the infrared light spectrum (not visible to the naked eye), essentially allowing the user to see in the dark.
Visitors report unusual paranormal phenomena in the children’s room, including a closet door that opens and closes on its own and disembodied ghostly giggles. EVPs of children’s voices are common, including ones using the names of the murdered victims.
Ghost Adventures—
This Door Remains Closed
The GAC captured a fascinating poltergeist or telekinetic phenomenon while investigating this area. In their usual style, the guys placed their signature X to mark the position of a static (stationary) camera. This allows several hot spots to be monitored while they investigate in other areas. While Zak, Nick, and Aaron reviewed audio files in the barn, the upstairs IR camera covering the children’s room captured something startling.
With no living soul inside the house, an open closet door slammed shut forcefully! The remarkable footage clearly showed a wide-open door quickly and deliberately closing on its own. Could this have been a violent display of power by the spirit of an ax-wielding murderer, or a frightened child desperately seeking help?
CONCLUSION
Villisca is a small town with a big secret, one it would have preferred to bury as deeply as the eight bodies in the local graveyard. But without justice, there can be no peace, and the spirits of the innocent have waited over a hundred years for truth and restitution.
The killer was never caught, or at least never convicted, and no one was ever punished for butchering an entire family and two little girls who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. The energy of this atrocity fuels the paranormal phenomena inside the little white house.
The town of Villisca survived the fear that ensued following the murders. It survived being split in two by those who presumed one suspect’s guilt over another’s. The families suffered the pain and indignity of never knowing what really happened to their loved ones, and three men suffered the permanent stain of being accused of the crime when other options were right next door.
Authorities lost control of the crime scene. Forensics and proper evidence collection techniques were nonexistent or in their infancy. The town was so eager to place blame for the murders, they rushed to convict someone, anyone.
A more likely suspect than those charged was Henry Lee Moore (no relation to the murder victims), known as America’s first serial killer. Moore spent time in a Kansas reformatory for forgery but was paroled in April 1911. Shortly afterward, the area was plagued by a series of bizarre murders, strikingly similar in nature.
In September 1911, two Colorado Springs families—neighbors—were brutally murdered with an ax. The bloody weapon was left at the scene. In October, another family of three was bludgeoned to death in Monmouth, Illinois. Two weeks later in Ellsworth, Kansas, a married couple and their three children were murdered with an ax while sleeping in their beds. Details of this crime scene were alarmingly similar to those in Villisca. A kerosene lantern, chimney removed, was found at the end of the bed, the wife’s head severely mutilated and her body posed grotesquely in a sexual position. All of these murder locations were tied to each other via railroad, by which the killer likely made his escape.
Henry Lee Moore, who worked for the railroad, arrived in Columbia, Missouri, on December 17, 1912, the day before the murdered bodies of his mother and grandmother were discovered. In his hotel room, incriminating items including clippings of the previous murders and blood evidence were found. He also bragged to friends of how he had viewed mutilated bodies in the morgue. Moore was convicted in March 1913 of the murder of his mother and grandmother. The wave of bizarre, vicious ax murders ceased after that.
Was Henry Lee Moore overlooked as a suspect in the Villisca crimes? Were the wounded residents of Villisca so focused on their tiny portion of the world that they were blind to the bigger picture? Murder is nothing new, but a wave of seemingly random ax murders over such a short period of time is far outside the norm.
When Darwin Linn bought the property and began dredging up the past, the good people of Villisca were mortified. But it needed to be done; the secret was too big to hide under a cloak of ignorance and denial. When the renovations began, Linn stirred up more than just angry neighbors; he woke the spirits of the house, and not just the victims’ but seemingly the murderer’s as well.
Do the ghosts of six children still linger in limbo in the place of their deaths, or is something else residing there? The victims, completely unaware that they are indeed dead, may still be living their afterlife in the place they died. The viciousness of the attack left behind a permanent mark, a negative energy field that is palpable to visitors and investigators.
It is also possible that the number of people who’ve visited the house over the years have brought something with them, imprinting their fears, anxieties, excitement, and sadness into the structure itself. Has the house become a vortex, a magnet for energies of all kinds: good, bad, indifferent?
The small house of big evil has become infamous as the most haunted private residence in the United States. Thousands make the paranormal pilgrimage to Iowa to satisfy their curiosity and look for answers. It’s not a matter of disrespect; it’s a matter of acknowledging that such evil can and does exist, so you won’t be caught off guard. You’ll live each day as if it were your last, appreciate the moment, love a little harder, hug your children a little longer, lock your doors a little tighter, and sleep with one eye open.
What You Need to Know Before You Go:
Villisca Ax Murder House
508 E. 2nd St., Villisca, IA
Contact Information:
Call Martha Linn: (712) 621-1530
villiscaiowa.com
dmlinn@wildblue.net
The Villisca Ax Murder House is open March 1st to November 1st for daytime tours.
Daylight Tours: House is open daily from 1 P.M. to 4 P.M. Tuesday through Sunday; closed Mondays.
Overnight Investigations: House is open seven nights a week year-round. Please check the calendar on the website or call Martha Linn for availability.
Lodging:
If you make the journey to Villisca and stay overnight at the infamous Ax Murder House, you probably won’t get much sleep! Here are a few options for hotels in the area:
Stanton Inn Motel, (712) 829-2585
620 Halland Ave., Stanton, IA 51573
stantoninnmotel.com
Super 8 Clarinda, (712) 542-6333
1203 N. 12th St., Clarinda, IA 51632
super8.com
Celebrity Inn, (712) 542-5178
1323 S. 16th St., Clarinda, IA 51632
thecelebrityinn.com