In March of 1919, Lydia married Harlen C. Lewis, and they moved into a house in Billings, Montana. In July of 1919, Harlen became sick and died of a "flu bug". Lydia collected a $10,000 life insurance policy. Following the death of Lewis, Lydia returned to Twin Falls. In August of 1920, she married Edward F. Meyer, her fourth husband. A month after the marriage, Edward suddenly fell ill with typhoid and died. This time, the insurance company demanded an autopsy. The autopsy showed a typhoid virus in his bloodstream, so the matter was laid to rest. However, Lydia decided to leave the area without collecting the $12,000 life insurance money.
A chemist, Earl Dooley, and a relation of Lydia’s first husband Robert, began to wonder about the number of deaths surrounding Lydia. He discussed the subject with another chemist and a local doctor. Together, the three men called upon Frank Stephan, the local Twin Falls prosecutor, and reported their suspicions. Frank Stephan agreed that the number of deaths warranted an investigation. He called in the local deputy sheriff, Virgil Ormsby, to help. Their first port of call was the Life Insurance Company of Idaho State. Here, Virgil Ormsby discovered that all three of Lydia's husbands had life insurance policies in which Lydia was the sole beneficiary. Now that the prosecutor had a motive, he ordered the exhumation of Lydia’s husbands, her daughter, and her brother in law.
On April 2, 1921, the examining pathologist discovered traces of arsenic in some of the bodies while the other bodies were well preserved, which was indicative of arsenic poisoning. It was also discovered that Lydia had a habit of buying massive amounts of flypaper. Frank Stephan and Virgil Ormsby believed, from talking to neighbors and ranch hands, that Lydia boiled the arsenic out of the flypaper and used that mixture to murder her victims.
An arrest warrant was issued for Lydia on April 22, 1922, but Lydia was nowhere to be found.
Deputy Ormsby, by this time, was so immersed in the case he was damned if he was going to let Lydia get away. He traced her first to Boise, then San Francisco, and then to Los Angeles where he learned that she had married a fifth husband. Husband number five was a navy chief petty officer, Vincent Paul Southard; they met at a dance hall and married almost immediately. When Vincent was transferred from California to Honolulu, he took his new wife Lydia along with him.
A warrant was wired to Captain Arthur McDuffie in Honolulu who promptly, much to her new husband’s shock, arrested Lydia. Vincent Paul Southard would not believe the alleged charges against his new wife and vowed to stand by her side and pay her legal costs to prove her innocence.
A media circus began as the story leaked out. In one newspaper story, Vincent admitted to a reporter that Lydia had persuaded him to take out a $10,000 life insurance policy, which he thought, given his profession and the fact they intended to start a family, a sensible action to take.
Deputy Ormsby arrived in Honolulu on May 24, 1921. He escorted Lydia back to Idaho on June 7, 1922.
Lydia went to trial on September 26th in front of Judge William Babcock, charged with one murder. Lydia denied the charges, but the jury thought otherwise and after twenty-three hours' deliberation found Lydia guilty of second-degree murder. Judge William Babcock sentenced her to the state penitentiary at Idaho State Penitentiary in Boise for a term of ten years to life.
The Idaho State Prison was a tough place to serve a sentence. Its walls were high, and it was hot in summer and bitterly cold in the winter. However, over the next few years, Lydia became a model prisoner and charmed the guards and all who encountered her. The prison guards allotted her a piece of land to cultivate a rose garden and supplied her with the equipment and trellises to grow her roses. Over time, she became friendly in particular with another prisoner, David C. Minton, who was released from prison at the end of April in 1931.
Idaho State Prison
On the night of May 13, 1931, Lydia escaped from her cell through a bar she had loosened weeks earlier. She climbed out of her window and then, with the aid of her rose trellises, scaled the prison walls to a waiting car driven by David Minton.
The escaping couple made their way to Denver, Colorado. The police launched a nationwide search for the pair. Lydia managed to find work as a housekeeper for a Mr. Harry Whitlock, a widower who had advertised in the local Denver paper. Before long, Harry Whitlock had proposed to her and Lydia accepted and became his wife in March of 1932.
On July 2, 1932, the police found and arrested an embittered David Minton. The police extradited him back to Idaho to face trial for aiding and abetting in Lydia’s escape. With the information he provided, the police were soon able to trace Lydia. David was sentenced to one to five years for helping her escape.
Lydia was re-arrested at the end of August in 1932 and returned to the Idaho State Penitentiary. Her new husband, appalled by his wife’s history, promptly divorced her.
Lydia, back in the penitentiary, charmed the new governor George F. Rudd. He granted her many favors. He allowed Lydia to visit her sick mother outside of the penitentiary unguarded. He took her for drives and all-day outings at a nearby resort and allowed Lydia to attend the cinema in Boise. When news of this was reported in the local papers, Thomas as warden of Idaho State Penitentiary, resigned.
Lydia was finally released from prison on October 3, 1941 at the age of forty-nine. At first, she went to live with her sister in Nyssa, Oregon before returning to Twin Falls. Here, she met and married Hal Shaw. Two years after the marriage, he disappeared and was never seen again. Lydia then went to live in Salt Lake City, Utah. On February 5, 1958 while walking home from the grocery store, at the age of sixty-six, she died from a heart attack.
She was buried at Sunset Memorial Park cemetery in Twin Falls under the name Anna E. Shaw.
BERTHA GIFFORD
The Angel of Death
Bertha Alice Williams Graham Gifford was born in Grubville, Missouri in 1872. Her parents were early pioneers in eastern Missouri. Bertha’s mother, Matilda Caroline Lee, married her father, William Poindexter Williams, on January 1stof 1859, in Jefferson County, Missouri. They had ten children, but two died in early infancy leaving six boys and two girls. The Williams family was known as one of the area’s most respectable families. The family was a regular attendee at the local fundamentalist church, the Church of God.
Bertha grew up to be an extraordinarily beautiful woman with dark hair and a dark complexion. As a young woman, she loved to dance and was courted by many. In 1894, when Bertha was twenty-two, she married Henry Graham in Hillsboro, Jefferson County, Missouri. They managed a small boarding house on the edge of Hillsboro town and had a daughter together. The marriage, over time, became an unhappy one, and there were rumors that William was seeing a girl on the sly. When Bertha was thirty and still extremely beautiful, she met Eugene Gifford, a handsome, friendly farmer and carpenter, seven years her junior. When they met, Eugene was betrothed to another girl. Shortly after meeting Eugene, Henry Graham became ill and was diagnosed with pneumonia. Bertha nursed him conscientiously, never leaving his bedside. Although Henry was physically strong, he developed what doctors called complications, and he died at the age of 34 suffering from violent, excruciating, stomach cramps.
In 1907, after waiting a respectable amount of time and allowing Eugene to break off his engagement and Bertha to collect her insurance payout on Henry’s death, Bertha and Eugene married. Once married, Bertha and Eugene moved away from Jefferson County to Catawissa, Franklin County, Missouri. Catawissa was an extremely small rural community 39 miles from St. Louis and about 10 miles southwest of the larger and more developed town of Pacific.
Catawissa consisted of not much more than a post office, a church, and a few small stores. Bertha had several relatives by marriage already living in Catawissa. Here, Eugene took up farming, and they lived on a house on Old Bend Road, about one mile from the Meramec River. The people who lived “on the bend” had their own close-knit community separate from the small town of Catawissa. The community was made up of farmers who worked hard and long hours. When Eugene and Be
rtha moved to the area, the mode of transportation was still by horse and wagon. There were hitching posts and water troughs for horses along the town streets. T. Dermott, a plumber and owner of a stove and tin ware store on Catawissa St., purchased the first auto truck for his business in March of 1911. By the end of the 1920’s, most businesses bought trucks, but some continued to use horses and wagons into the 1940’s.
Eugene soon became popular in the small, close-knit community and gained a reputation as a skilled worker and good company. Bertha gained a reputation as an exceptionally talented cook and in time as a “Good Samaritan” for her help in caring for ill neighbors. She became known and appreciated as a good country nurse and kind neighbor, always ready to lend a helping hand if someone was sick or injured. She was known to ride or walk for miles to help at the site of an accident or attend to the sick. In small, rural communities such as ‘the bend’ in the early 1900’s, it was difficult to get medical help in an emergency. The only doctor in the town of Catawissa, Doctor Hemker, had a large area to cover and was frequently difficult to reach. The newspapers at this time were full of advertisements for lotions and potions for self-medication. Bertha made her own concoctions for treating aches, muscle sprains, coughs, and other ailments.
The people who lived on the bend did their main shopping in the small town of Pacific, which was approximately a forty-five minute journey. Like the other residents of “the bend,” Bertha did her main shopping in the town of Pacific. In 1911, Eugene’s widowed mother and young brother, Emilie and James Gibbons, moved in with Eugene and Bertha. In 1913, Emilie became ill with stomach cramps and vomiting and died. Bertha took it upon herself to arrange the funeral. A year later in 1914, thirteen-year-old James died in Bertha’s arms from similar symptoms to his mother’s.
Close neighbors of Bertha’s, George and Margaret Stuhlfelder’s fifteen-month-old son Bernard became ill with pneumonia in February of 1915. Bertha immediately offered her help to the exhausted, distraught parents. She sat selfishly by his bed, or so her neighbors thought, and when complications to his illness started, she stayed for three long nights and days as the small boy’s body writhed around in agony with stomach cramps, before dying in excruciating pain.
One night in 1917, a relative of Eugene’s, Sherman Pounds, arrived drunkenly on the doorstep of Bertha’s and Eugene’s house. Sherman was a large, strong man of fifty-three. He was a widower with five children and on the weekend he liked to drink. Eugene and Bertha helped him in and put him to bed, and Bertha made him a tonic. In the middle of the night, Sherman awoke with terrible stomach cramps and was dead by the morning. The doctor declared the cause of death from drinking.
Eight months later in November, a hired helper of Eugene’s, 52-year-old Jim Ogle, who was complaining of being ripped off by the Gibbons, became ill with what Doctor Hemker said was malaria. Bertha kindly offered to take charge of all nursing duties. On November 17th, Bertha visited Pacific to stock up on a few items. While there, she called into the pharmacy and complained to the pharmacist, known as “Uncle Jimmy,” that rats were attacking her chickens. He suggested an arsenic based rat poison for which she signed for in the poison register. The following day, Jim became sicker and complained of severe stomach cramps. The doctor was sent for and, after examining Jim, said the stomach pains were a result of the malaria. For three days, Jim suffered agonizing pain before dying on November 20th. Dr. Hemker wrote, “Gastritis” on the certificate as having caused the death.
Five years later in December of 1922, Sherman’s three-year-old granddaughter, Beulah Pounds, was left in Bertha’s care for the afternoon while her mother went Christmas shopping in Pacific. When Beulah’s mother returned to pick her up, her daughter complained of stomach pains. Bertha and the mother decided it would be best to leave Beulah overnight with Bertha. The following morning, Beulah was much sicker and in an enormous amount of pain. Her mother sent for the doctor, but Beulah was dead before he arrived. Bertha described Beulah’s symptoms to him, and Dr. Hemker wrote out a death certificate listing the cause of death as gastritis. Beulah was buried on January 5, 1923.
It was one local funeral Bertha failed to attend, and Bertha loved funerals. Bertha was fuming because Beulah’s aunt had suggested a post-mortem should be done on Beulah. The aunt was unhappy, as her father Sherman had similarly died in Bertha’s house from severe stomach pains. However, because the doctor didn’t think anything was amiss and the parents thinking it would cost too much money, failed to perform an autopsy.
Six years almost to the day that George and Margaret Stuhlfelder’s son Bernard had died, Margaret, their two-year-old daughter, became ill with pneumonia. They sent for Dr. Hemker who prescribed medication for her. Then Bertha arrived to help. She was dressed in a white apron and carried her bag of tonics. She told Margaret that she thought the baby looked terribly ill and did not think she would recover. Nevertheless, Bertha sat by the baby’s bed. Two days later Margaret started vomiting, and three days later Margaret died in agony.
In March of 1923, George and Margaret’s daughter Irene, seven-years-old, became ill with stomach pains. Once again, the Stuhlfelder’s called the doctor who prescribed stomach medication. This appeared to ease her pain and then Bertha called by to help nurse her. Shortly after Bertha’s arrival, Irene began to vomit and a few days later, she died in agony. The doctor filled out the death certificate clearly thinking there was nothing amiss.
Another local family, George and Ethel Schamel, were also friends of the Giffords. George frequently helped Elmer out on the farm. The family had intended to leave Catawissa and move to St Louis in April of 1923 but after only three weeks in St Louis, they returned to Catawissa. Two years later in June of 1925, Ethel at the age of 33, became ill, and Bertha nursed her, but Ethel died. Eight weeks later Lloyd, George and Ethel’s son, who was just nine-years-old, died of gastritis while sleeping over at Bertha’s house. This death was followed eight weeks later by the brother Elmer’s death, at the age of seven, also from gastritis who Bertha had also helped nurse. Barely a month later, George Schamel’s sister, Leona, became ill and started vomiting. Bertha nursed her. Leona died in October at the age of thirty-seven. Doctor Hemker had signed all of the deaths certificated as gastroenteritis.
LLYOD’S DEATH CERTIFICATE
ELMER’S DEATH CERTIFICATE
It was after the Schamel boys’ deaths, Lloyd and Elmer that people began to talk. The deaths had happened almost one after the other in such a short time, and both the Schamel boys had been so healthy and full of life.
Maybe people had thought Bertha’s presence at so many deathbeds was odd before but had never voiced it. Now, it began to be discussed openly, as was the fact that Bertha enjoyed reading about murders and accidents in the newspapers and enjoyed talking about them.
All of this was going on against the backdrop of prohibition. Many of the country folk had stills in their barns and were wary of the authorities and attracting attention. Eugene Gifford had a large whisky still in one of his barns and a friend of his, Gus, would sell the whisky in the nearby towns of Pacific, Catawissa, and neighboring areas. Eugene and Gus had some kind of squabble over the proceeds, and Bertha was so mad at Gus she chased him with a butcher’s knife.
A short while later in 1926, Gus’s mother became ill and Bertha, forgetting the fight, offered to nurse her. Gus’s mother died.
One evening on May 15th, 1927, Edward Brinley, an alcoholic, ex-butcher from Pacific, who was now working for Eugene as a farmhand, collapsed in a drunken stupor in front of Bertha’s front door. Eugene found him and helped Edward into bed. In the morning, Bertha gave him some of her homemade lemonade. A few hours later, he developed chronic stomach pains and died in agony in the afternoon. Doctor Hemker, feeling nervous with all the gossip about Bertha in the vicinity, decided to consult with another doctor from Pacific as to the cause of death. It would seem they could not agree as two different diagnoses were written on the death certificate.
No post-mor
tem was called for. Bertha called the undertaker and organized the funeral.
This latest death caused all the talk about Bertha to start up again, only this time it became much more widespread and reached the ears of Frank Jenny, a young up-and-coming prosecuting attorney. Six months following the death of Edward, a grand jury of Franklin County began investigations into the rumors and deaths surrounding Bertha.
Bertha Gifford was furious. How dare they think such things about her when all she had done was tried to help people? Bertha threatened to sue for libel anyone who uttered a bad word against her. Eugene was also enraged that people should say such things against his Bertha and, normally placid, he would hurl abuse at anyone he suspected of gossiping about Bertha being a killer. If it was a strategy, it worked. People, who had been scheduled to give evidence in front of the Grand Jury, lost their tongues. The Grand Jury was unwilling to indict Bertha as they felt there was insufficient evidence.
This led to many believing that the Gifford’s had friends in high places that had put a stop to the investigation. However, Frank Jenny, the young, ambitious prosecutor, was a Rottweiler and was not going to give up. Just months later, he was equipped with the record books of poisons bought from two pharmacists in Pacific that showed Bertha had been buying abnormal amounts of arsenic since 1911, “For rats,” she had written next to her numerous signatures, and with witnesses that were now eager to talk, he tried again.
When the second investigation began, Bertha and Eugene left Catawissa and moved to Eureka, Missouri. The story before long became plastered across newspapers all over the US. As the news circulated, Frank Jenny’s office began to receive phone calls and letters from people claiming their relatives or friends had passed away while being attended by Bertha. Soon the official number of questionable deaths climbed from nine up to seventeen.
She Devils Around the World Page 19
