…………I have a cold case that involves three separate murders that I have been seeking answers to since 1966.. While other teenagers were worried about their prom dress, their grades and swooning over the Beatles, I had a was trying to figure out answers to a much more interesting question. Why did Helen Hammond Wilson drown in the backwater near Cowl Farm in her housecoat with a ticket to Miami that day in her purse and even more trouble some… it was ruled an accident? Did Chucky Paul really put his head in an oven and turn on the gas and commit suicide in Weirton? And, did a guy named Domer from Ohio escape whomever was hunting him by getting a bum drunk in a hotel, put his clothes and ID on him; put him in his car; douse the car with gasoline; and start it down the hill when a train was scheduled to pass by so that the car would collide and burn the bum beyond recognition. Only his timing was off. Domer was found guilty and was on death’s row in the Ohio State Penitentiary.
……… Why was an 18-year-old girl concerning herself with something that clearly had no tie to her and in later years why did she have possession of the the murder files? The girl was me and during that period my Dad, John D. Herron, wore many hats. He was not only Justice of the Peace, City Judge and hold on to your hat, he was County Coroner. The rationale for getting or wanting that job eludes me, but in later years the power of those three positions when put together has made some sense.
………I thought my Dad was the most interesting person in the world. Why wouldn’t I? Crime doesn’t know a time clock, so he kept an office downstairs. It had a heater vent that connected directly with the one above his desk. I spent many hours laying on the floor listening. And, when the coroner’s calls came in, he always allowed me to tag along. While other little girls were playing house and playing with baby dolls, I had no interest. I had actually begun my journalistic career in third grade when I started the “Carla Troy” mystery series. I did everything in those little books. I wrote the book in far from perfect penmanship, I designed the cover, and I collated and stapled to make a book. I had a series of murder mystery which my heroine, a student nurse, always solved.
………So when a girl who just wants to be the next Agatha Christie, comes across a suspicious death which she knows is not accidental who can blame her if she begins a lifelong fascination not one, but three murders whose connections defy me throughout my life.
……I become discouraged thinking that too much time has passed. I would make progress and then hit a wall and give up. The idea that this just wasn’t my overactive imagination was reinforced when my Dad, in the last visit he would be able to pay to my house, brought the entire contents of the file on those three deaths to me.
……”Here, it’s yours to solve now?” he said knowing his end was near. “But, how can I solve these? It’s so convoluted and I never even saw the bodies.” “Maybe” he said, “just maybe you buried the bodies in your mind.” Dad was not one to make statements randomly, so I knew that his words had meaning I was to figure it out, but I never did.
…..Where to start? Solving cold cases has become a lot easier because of new technology. Also, there are units of the State Police and FBI dedicated to just that. There are also organization like “Project Cold Case” and “Murder Accountability” ready to assist. Some of the cases go as far back as 1945. West Virginia ranks the 13th worst in solving cold cases of all those in the United States. Our clearance is in the 60-65 percent rate, West Virginia’s clearance’s rate is 56.9 percent.
…….A two-year lag occurred between the deaths in 1963 and the question as to why they were connected and who committed. 1965 was when my Dad and his little buddy became intrigued and began their own investigation apart with the Hancock County Sheriffs Office.
Letter from a Dead Man…………………..
……..No telephone call ever got my Dad’s attention as quickly as the one from a Weirton woman who identified herself as Helen Wilkun and said “I have a letter from a dead man.” Indeed, the man. Lawrence Wise, had died two years earlier at St. Francis hospital. He roomed with Mrs. Wilkun and he was scheduled to have open heart surgery. The night before surgery a priest came to see him and he asked the priest to take down what he told him.
…….Wise dictated what appeared to be a confession which the priest wrote on the back of a Christmas card. It was written in Latin and had three dates..and three license plates listed beside each date. Lawrence did not survive the surgery and several days later a man driving a gas vehicle knock on Mrs. Wilkun’s door and handed her an envelope. She put the card away until she began getting calls offering her $10,000.00 for the card. Wanting her to meet someone in a Catholic Church in Steubenville to hand over the card and messages like “if you know what is good for you, you’ll keep your mouth shut.” Her rationale for calling Dad is unknown to me. He was well known in Weirton and she wanted the letter out of her hands. Dad and his wide reaching titles were known to many and in reaching out to him she must have thought she could get some answers. Dad took the letter to be translated by the priest at St. Paul’s Catholic Church and then by Harry West, then the Latin teacher at Oak Glen. The translations were almost identiical:
“ I shudder telling of my danger. In the outermost part of my heart. A slip of the tongue in Latin. You have hit the nail on the head. The truth is written in wine remains written in the place cited. There is not found an equal to the noble brothers an experienced participant of the crimes of the law. You judge with God’s help. I have sinned. A new man is involved in the matter.
4-23-63 Ohio
8-26-63 80-022
11-30-63 80-022
The deed is not done. The letter remains written. The truth will prevail.”
……Dad’s notes read 4-26-63 – burnt in Canton 8-26-63 – Helen Hammond Williams; 11-30-63 – Chucky Paul. Those were the deaths that occurred on those dates. Was the license plate that of the killer.
…….I’m think I should start with Helen Williamson, the wife of Weirton Steel Vice-President Stewart Williamson. She wasn’t a West Virginia resident, She lived on Ross Park in Steubenville. The reason for her being at the Backwater by Cowl’s farm. What I do know?
……The coroner’s jury returned the report: “Helen Hammond Williamson met her death on the 27th of August, 1963 at approximately 3:30 a.m.and 7::30 a.m. in the backwaters of Tomlinson Run in Clay Distric one and a half miles north of New Cumberland in said County and State as a result of accidental drowning. It was signed by my Dad and the Juror’s John E. Mitchell, Thomas Rainey, Clifford Prosser, Carl Garner, William Owings and Richard Staley.
……..She wore a housecoat and one slipper. One slipper was found further up on a rock. The most interesting thing in her handbag was a ticket on United Airlines for later that day…..Pittsburgh to Miami. Why would a well to do, middle aged woman from Steubenville drive to the backwaters in her housecoat and slipper and what was doing that made her accidently drown. No further questions appeared to be asked for what appears to me to be a pretty far-fetched story.
Through the years I’ve shared the file with attorneys, law enforcement, and anyone who will listen. I’ve taken the file to two friends who have been conjecturing with me. My partner-in-crime Shelly Anderson and former Commissioner George Kource who prior to being County Commissioner was a detective on the Weirton Police Force. At George’s suggestion I’m going to talk to Sheriff Scott Gittings to see what records I can access. My goal is to get this taken up by either the State Police or FBI Cold Case Division.
…….Any information about who might know something would be
…
