Weber says he showed the couple numerous crime-scene photographs, some of which revealed “black gook” in the toilet bowls, which he attributed to police fingerprint powder.32 But why would the Lutzes make up a story of a haunted house? Weber says that the Lutzes were desperate to get out from under a crushing mortgage that they could not afford.33 While his admission was not likely to enhance his personal and professional standing, Weber stood to gain financially if he could convince the judge that he helped to create the story that would eventually be published as The Amityville Horror. While Weber sued Anson and Lutz for $60 million for “stealing ideas,” he settled out of court for the paltry sum of $2,500 and an additional $15,000 for his contribution to the book and film.34 Many researchers and Web sites continue to have a skeptical view on Weber’s hoax claim, noting that it was in his financial interest to make such a claim in hopes of striking it rich in his lawsuit against the Lutzes. How much weight should we place on this argument and on claims that the Amityville haunting really happened, as the Lutzes claim? Let’s look at the case in greater detail.
A Closer Look
In the book, Anson writes that the police conducted an on-site inspection of 112 Ocean Avenue during the Lutzes’ 28-day ordeal.35 Amityville police deny this. Could the police have been covering up their involvement in order to distance themselves from a controversial case? Such conspiracy theories belong to the realm of fiction. Even before the book reached stores, Rick Moran and Peter Jordan went to Amityville and checked the police records. They state that “no police officer was in that house and no report was ever made of physical damage, prowlers, or intruders in the house or on the grounds during the time the Lutzes were in residence.” It was only after they had abandoned the house that they bothered to contact police.36 Newsday journalist Ed Lowe confirms these claims, observing that during their 28-day “siege,” they never once contacted police—and he should know: his father was the Amityville police chief at the time. Think about it. Mysterious and terrifying events occur in your new home and continue unabated for four weeks: strange noises, shadowy figures, and mysterious levitations. Yet, despite their claims to the contrary, the Lutzes never once contacted the police, and they supposedly stayed in the house, battling these evil forces, for no less than 28 days!
The inconsistencies between the events reported in the book and real life do not stop with the inaccurate claims about the police and priest. If one scrutinizes the Good Housekeeping article further, George Lutz never claims that his wife levitated two feet off the bed—arguably the most dramatic part of the story in Anson’s book. Instead he says that she “slid” across the bed “as if by levitation.”37 In September 1979, George Lutz gave testimony in a U.S. federal court in his $1 million lawsuit against Paul Hoffman, claiming that Hoffman invaded his privacy by writing the Good Housekeeping article and a spinoff piece for the New York Daily News. During his testimony under oath, Lutz gave a third version of the event, admitting that she had indeed levitated but that it had been exaggerated in the book. How much so? He said that his wife had floated just two inches in the air. In dismissing the suit against Hoffman and two others, presiding judge Jack Weinstein ruled that the Lutzes had “deliberately made themselves public figures.”38 Weinstein observed, “Based on what I have heard, it appears to me that to a large extent the book is a work of fiction, relying in a large part upon the suggestions of Mr. Weber.”39
But if the Lutzes conspired to create a hoax, how do we explain that they both passed polygraph tests? In their study of the over-hyped claims of neuroscience, psychiatrist Sally Satel and psychologist Scott Lilienfeld document why lie detector tests are inadmissible in courts of law and inherently flawed. They observe that polygraphs monitor subjective responses to control questions, which are then used to set a baseline against lies. It is an inexact science because it measures arousal, not truth. They note that habitual liars and psychopaths often have nervous systems that do not respond to threats as many people do. On the other hand, truth-tellers may become anxious under high-stakes questioning. The results, if allowed into the courts, would be disastrous, because innocent people may appear guilty and the guilty may appear innocent. They write, “Under interrogation, they become frightened or agitated, their hearts pound, their breath labors, and their palms sweat. They may even feel guilty.” Polygraph examiners even have a name for these people: “guilt grabbers,” as “the mere thought of being accused of wrongdoing gooses their autonomic nervous systems.” The bottom line is that research on polygraphs consistently demonstrates that they are unreliable. The National Academy of Sciences estimate is that polygraph exams correctly identify between 75 and 80 percent of those who tell lies, but they mislabel people as liars about 65 percent of the time.40 Even the CIA, which is known for using polygraphs, has made serious blunders. In 1998, a scientist working for the Department of Energy, Wen Ho Lee, was accused of spying for the Chinese government but was later found to be innocent. Conversely, the notorious Soviet secret agent Aldrich Ames passed polygraph exams in 1986 and 1991.41 He was not arrested until 1994, after electronic surveillance. Ames described the polygraphs he was given as “witch-doctory” that required “no special magic.” He said that the key was to remain confident and exhibit “a friendly relationship with the examiner . . . rapport, where you smile and you make him think that you like him.”42
Meteorology 101
One of the strengths of Anson’s writing is the detail that he includes from the 35 hours of tape recordings with George and Kathy Lutz. Meteorological expert Tim Vasquez examined records from the National Climatic Data Center and the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration (NOAA) in order to verify the Lutzes’ claims. His findings are revealing. For instance, Anson writes that at 3:15 on Christmas morning, “winter moonlight” was “flooding the bedroom.” In reality, the sky was overcast.43 We are told that on December 27, conditions were “bright and clear,” with “temperatures hovering in the low teens.” At no time was the daytime temperature below freezing. It was overcast with a predawn high of 46°F, falling slowly to 39°F.44 Anson states that on January 10, George Lutz heard a loud thunderclap, and upon looking out a window, “he saw the first raindrops strike the panes. Then somewhere in the distance, a flash of lightning hit the darkness and again, a few minutes later, came another boom of thunder.” George said he could then distinguish “the silhouettes of trees swaying in the rising gusts. . . . The rain was coming down much harder now, beating heavily against the windows and outside walls.” When he went outside, George described “sheets of icy rain that lashed at him” and “hurricane-force winds” that “whipped the front door of the house back against the building.”45 Local weather records reveal a very different scene: at 8:00 PM, nearby John F. Kennedy Airport recorded clear skies and 24°F. The following morning, clouds moved in, and light snow fell. Vasquez writes of the night in question, “The air mass was far too cold and stable to support thunderstorm activity.”46 Even the claim that George Lutz found eerie cloven hoof prints in the freshly fallen snow near the house does not correspond with weather records. There had been no snow at the time.47 In fact, after analyzing the verifiable weather-related claims in the book, Vasquez was able to find just one accurate description! At about 1:00 on the morning of January 1, 1976, a violent wind gust was reported, coinciding with the time when the Lutzes said it had awakened them. That actually did happen.48 The book also has astronomical inconsistences. For example, George Lutz says that at 3:15 on Christmas morning, he looked at his daughter’s window and saw a pig’s face staring back. At the time, he said, “the orb of the full moon was like a huge flashlight, lighting his way.”49 Impossible. The moon was in its third quarter, and it had set several hours earlier, well before midnight.50
The near-total failure of weather data to coincide with the Lutzes’ claims shows just how poorly thought out their plan was. All they had to do was to look at back issues of local newspapers to know what the weather had been on any given day, or t
hey could have consulted the weather bureau. Did they think that no one was going to check these dates against weather records, simply taking their word for it, given the extraordinary claims? While their hoax may have been elaborate and their acting good enough to obtain a book deal and a film, much of their success can be attributed to good fortune, given the amateurish way it was constructed. The deception was always going to fall apart; it was only a question of time. The book is filled with so many discrepancies and inconsistencies that it was soon being poked full of more holes than a block of Swiss cheese. For instance, an early hardcover edition of the book says that when George supposedly found mysterious pig-like footprints in the snow, they were investigated by the Amityville police—who later described the claim as “absolutely false.”51 In the book, Amityville police sergeant Al Gionfriddo supposedly checked on the Lutzes, yet there was no such officer on the force, and there is no record of his ever existing. We were also told that Gionfriddo had been on duty the night of the DeFeo murders and that he radioed an Officer Cammaroto from outside the house. Sergeant Pat Cammaroto was indeed a police officer on the Amityville force at the time of the supposed haunting, and he did go to the crime scene immediately after the shootings. He says that the radio incident never happened.52
Physical evidence for the haunting, as described in the book, also crumbles under closer scrutiny. Anson writes of serious damage to doors and windows, including a doorknob, locks, and hinges. Shortly before the book appeared, Rick Moran and Peter Jordan conducted a check of area repair shops and locksmiths; several recalled doing work for the DeFeo family, but none said they had been to the house since the Lutzes moved in. In spite of claims of extensive damage to the house over their 28-day stay, the Lutzes neither filed an insurance claim nor rang police about possible vandalism.53 Joe Nickell talked with the couple that purchased the house after the Lutzes fled: the Cromartys. They said that these items of hardware had not been newly replaced or repaired. In some cases, they never existed. For example, in the book we are told that a green slime oozed from the playroom door; the “only source seemed to be an empty lock hole in the door.” When journalist Dennis Hevesi interviewed the Cromartys, it was evident that the door in question has no lock hole or lock. “There is only an antique keyhole plate fastened over the spot where a keyhole might be drilled.”54
Shortly after the “haunting” made headlines in November 1977, just after publication of the book, more anomalies surfaced. For instance, the man who bought the Lutzes’ previous home in nearby Deer Park, James Mullally, observed that two weeks after the Lutzes had moved into 112 Ocean Avenue—when the demons were supposedly in full riot—he and his wife had visited the Lutzes and were given a tour of the house. Far from being exhausted from fighting off an evil force and desperate to stay warm, they seemed very happy, Mullally says. “I remember my wife saying as we left if she were living in that house”—considering the murders—“she wouldn’t be in as good a mood as Mrs. Lutz.”55
Several accounts in the book have a distinct ring of implausibility, even if we were to assume that what was claimed actually occurred. For instance, Anson writes that on one early January morning at 2:00, George was horrified to see that Kathy’s face had aged sixty years and she resembled an old woman. Later, in an exclusive interview, Kathy Lutz would describe the terrifying ordeal after seeing her reflection in a mirror, in her own words. “Ugly creases and crow’s-feet scarred my face. I drooled all over my shriveled up, dried skin.” She continued, “I ran my fingers down my craggy face and touched my dry lips. I shivered and broke out in a cold sweat. I burst into sobs.” Kathy described the feel as “like looking through a Halloween mask.” Now place yourself in Kathy’s position. You awaken to find that your face is so badly wrinkled that your husband barely recognizes you. It is not a stretch of imagination to speculate that most people would seek immediate medical help. But not the Lutzes. Kathy said that for the next six hours, the pair lay awake in bed, watching the snow fall, until 8:00 AM, and her face gradually returned to normal.56 The story and their reaction are just too far-fetched and implausible. Why did no one think to grab a camera and snap a picture of her face? They had several hours to do so. The photo could have been used to convince others that demonic forces were afoot. And what of the green ooze? The staring red eyes? Kathy’s levitation? The fly swarm? The priest’s blistered hand? The demonic image in the soot at the back of the fireplace? The book is filled with dozens of strange occurrences, yet there is not a single photo. It is simply beyond belief.
Other reactions appear inappropriate. When George discovered that a 250-pound wooden door had been ripped from its hinges, he returned to bed. Shadowy figures were seen lurking outside the house in the night. Eerie red eyes were spotted peering through windows. With the pluck of General Patton and the patience of Gandhi, both he and Kathy refused to do what most people would have done at this stage: flee the house and phone the police. Perhaps the most incongruent reaction of all is when his wife is supposedly found levitating two feet off the bed. This is an event that would likely send even the most battle-hardened person scurrying from the home. Not George Lutz. The former marine pulled her back to earth, didn’t tell a soul, and remained in the house. On another occasion, George raced upstairs to find green slime oozing from the ceiling. He then checked it, like a drug detective in the movies might check for the presence of cocaine: “He looked at the substance, smelled it, and then put a little against the tip of his tongue. ‘It sure looks like Jello,’ he said, smacking his lips, ‘but it doesn’t have any taste at all.’” How many people do you know who would spot a strange green goo dripping from the ceiling of a strange house that they have just moved into and actually place some of it in their mouths? In Paul Hoffman’s original article, there is no mention of green ooze, which also appeared on walls and the keyhole of the playroom door, at times in such quantity that it had to be removed from the house by the bucketful and disposed of in the Amityville River. Hoffman does mention a red, blood-like substance that trickled from the keyholes of some doors. Like the absence of photographic evidence of the many wild and weird happenings, the Lutzes failed to save any of the supernatural slime for analysis.57
Coincidence or Concoction?
At first glance, some of the claims in the book appear to be eerie coincidences. For instance, Anson writes that George Lutz kept waking up at 3:15 AM—around the time that Ronnie DeFeo was widely reported to have killed his family, according to initial reports. But later, police revised the time of the shootings as having occurred anytime between 1:00 and 4:00 AM. Also, preliminary reports on the murders suggested that the victims had been shot in the head. This proved to be incorrect.58 One couple that does not believe their story is Barbara and James Cromarty, who purchased the house from the Lutzes and reported nothing out of the ordinary. Barbara told Joe Nickell that she possessed evidence that the whole affair was a hoax. At the time, Nickell was a consultant to the then forthcoming TV show That’s Incredible, which sought his advice about filming inside the house. He recommended to a producer that they have Mrs. Cromarty tour the house and point out various discrepancies close up. On the show, Mrs. Cromarty recalled the extensive damage to doors and windows detailed by the Lutzes, and she noted that the old hardware—hinges, locks, doorknobs, etc.—was still in place. What’s more, upon close inspection, one could see that there were no disturbances to the paint or varnish.59 When the show was reportedly inundated with complaints for challenging the Lutzes’ claims, Nickell says, he never heard from the producers again.60 By the time of the film’s release in 1979, 32-year-old Frank Burch had taken ownership of the house and was living a paranormally uneventful existence. “I have never heard sounds of ghosts, ghouls, or the supernatural,” he said.61 A transcript of the September 1979 trial of George and Kathy Lutz versus Paul Hoffman (who published the first article on the “haunting”) is revealing. In court, the Lutzes were forced to admit that virtually everything in The Amityville Horror was pure fiction.
62 As Newsday columnist Ed Lowe observes, “It had to have been a setup since Day 1. The day after the Lutzes fled, supposedly in terror, they returned to hold a garage sale—just lots of junk. It was obvious they hadn’t moved in there [the $80,000 house] with anything worth anything.”63
An Enduring Myth
There is no question that The Amityville Horror is a hoax, so why is this very relevant information nowhere to be found in later editions of Anson’s book, which continue to be filed under nonfiction? A responsible publisher would add a preface or even a brief note, updating the story. But this has not happened, almost certainly out of fear of losing future sales, as the interest in profits trumps truth. If librarians are going to continue to shelve copies under nonfiction, the section on fraud and hoaxes would seem to be more appropriate.
Several decades after the events at 112 Ocean Avenue, the story of the Amityville Horror is alive and well in countless books, movies, documentaries, and Web sites. What is so remarkable is that many writers and much of the general public remain either unaware or unconvinced that the events are fictional. How do we explain the ongoing public fascination with the Amityville affair, in the face of overwhelming evidence of a hoax? Perhaps it is best summed up in the old adage, “Why let the facts get in the way of a good story?” But even the “facts” have changed over time. As journalist Dennis Hevesi observes, “Complete reversals of fact have been edited into the book since its early hardcover printings.” In an early edition, Father Mancuso is driving an “old blue Vega” when the hood suddenly flies open and smashes back into the windshield. We are told that this happened after a welded hinge had “torn loose.” In the paperback edition, he is driving an “old tan Ford.” Why the change? Perhaps someone realized that the incident, as described, was physically impossible, as the hoods of all Chevy Vegas “are hinged by the headlights and open away from the windshield.”64
American Hauntings: The True Stories behind Hollywood's Scariest Movies—from The Exorcist to The Conjuring: The True Stories behind Hollywood’s Scariest Movies—from The Exorcist to The Conjuring Page 13
