Showing posts with label Ypsilanti High School. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ypsilanti High School. Show all posts

Tuesday, September 22, 2015

The Ann Arbor Mallet Murder


Pauline Campbell was a nurse at St. Joseph's Mercy Hospital in Ann Arbor, Michigan

Saturday, September 15, 1951, had been a hot day in Ann Arbor, but near midnight it was pleasantly cool. Pauline Campbell (34) had just finished her evening shift working the maternity ward at St. Joseph's Mercy Hospital. She crossed Observatory Street kitty-corner and headed down Washington Heights, a narrow, darker street towards where she lived several houses away. 

***

Only four nights before, a man had slugged a nurse with a blunt instrument while walking home from University Hospital in this same neighborhood. 

Bill Morey, Max Pell, and Dan Meyers were recent Ypsilanti High School graduates. On Wednesday night, they drove to Milan and bought two six-packs of beer at a tavern known to sell to minors.

Dan Meyers owned the car but didn't have his license yet and allowed Bill Morey to drive his car that night. They were cruising Ann Arbor, according to Dan, because they wanted to steal some hubcaps they could sell or trade for an echo can--a fifteen inch chrome exhaust pipe for his car.

Rather than steal hub caps on a quiet, shadowy street, Bill drove towards the well-lit University Hospital area. The three of them were tipsy, and Bill decided he wanted to pick up some girls. On the way over, Max and Bill began talking about snatching a nurse's purse. Later in court, Dan testified it was mainly Bill's idea.

"Let's hit somebody over the head and rob them," Bill said. There was a 12" crescent wrench among some loose tools they used to steal car parts under the front seat.

"This should do it," he said, striking his open palm to test its heft.

The street was busy, but when they saw a nurse walking up a deserted street alone, Bill said, "I'm going to hit her and drag her into the car."

In court, Dan Meyers claimed he kept telling Bill not to do it, but he did not hold Bill back nor did he shout out a warning to the nurse.

Bill got out of the car swiftly and walked up behind the unsuspecting nurse and swung the wrench. He hit her--but she didn't fall down--she screamed and ran. Bill jumped back to the car, and the three teenagers drove away laughing about the failed attempt.

Shirley Mackley was able to describe her attacker for police: five feet, ten inches tall; about one-hundred and seventy-five pounds; and young--possibly twenty years old. She was not seriously hurt. Her attacker had wanted to stun her and drag her into the car, so he held back a fatal blow. That would not happen again.

***

Four nights later, Bill Morey and Max Pell were out cruising again, but this time with Dave Royal, someone they recently met. Max was driving his beloved car that night.

They talked Dave into paying for the beer because he worked construction and had money. Max bought a case of beer, and they split it between themselves and two "wild" girls Bill knew from Milan. Dave was the odd man out and drank alone in the car.

They drank most of the beer and dropped the girls off at their homes at about eleven. The inebriated trio headed into Ann Arbor. That's when Bill told Max Pell, "Go up around the hospital."

There was a rubber mallet with a foot long wooden handle in the car that Max's father used to repair household furniture. They spotted a lone nurse leaving Mercy Hospital. She crossed Observatory Street kitty-corner and starting down the hill on Washington Heights Street which was narrower and darker.

Max turned off his headlights and Bill said, "Let me out here behind the nurse." 

With Bill on foot, Dave asked Max if Bill intended to assault and rob the nurse. "I know he had it on his mind, but I don't know if he is going to do it."

Wearing moccasins, Bill gained on the nurse, rushed her from behind, and knocked her unconscious. Bill struck her several more times, then he called out to Dave to help him drag her limp body to the car. 

They got only as much as her head in the car when Max told them, "Don't put her in the car!" They dropped her body in the street and drove off leaving her unconscious. She died soon after in the hospital where she had just finished her shift.

The young thugs took Huron River Drive back to Ypsilanti, but not before Bill went through the victim's purse. In it was a cigarette lighter, a watch, and a dollar and a half. From a bridge, they threw her purse into the Huron River. Afterward, they bought ninety-four cents worth of gas, ate sandwiches, and drank coffee to sober up at a truck stop called the Fifth Wheel.

***

After the first nurse attack, Bill confessed to his good friend, Dan Baughey, who was on probation at the time, that he was the person who hit the nurse. When Dan heard about the killing of the second nurse, he was urged by his priest and his father to tell the police what he knew.

At 3:00 PM on Wednesday, September 19, Dan Baughey reported to police, and the three suspects were apprehended. On their drive from the Ann Arbor police station to Lansing to take lie-detector tests, Bill chatted with detectives about police cars. That's all he talked about. Dave Royal did not say much for most of the ride

But Max Pell was worried chiefly about his car which had been taken into evidence. He told the police that he recently put a new engine in it and asked them not to drive it over fifty miles an hour.

The young toughs confessed when they got to Lansing. Max Pell was the first to break down when police told him they were going to cut up his car's upholstery to check for blood evidence.

"You don't need to tear my car apart. I'll tell you. It's blood."

***

The victim, Pauline Campbell, was an orphan born in Ohio and raised by a farm family. She worked her way through college as a housemaid and later as a nurse's aide. She was single, quiet, tidy, and rather slight of build said her landlady.

Less than six weeks after the arrest, the case went to trial. The courtroom as packed with local teenage girls, some who managed to get their pictures in the paper and later got in trouble for skipping school. When the defendants entered or left the courtroom, Bill was always first, then Max, and then Dave. 

In his summation, Washtenaw County Prosecutor Reading told the jury that "...on the night Miss Campbell was killed she, unlike the three teens, had been working and working at a task that benefits other people." He asked the jury to bring forth a first degree murder conviction for all three defendants.

Bill Morey's aunt, mother, and father at arraignment.

Bill Morey and Max Pell were found guilty of murder one and given life sentences. Dave Royal was convicted of second degree murder and got twenty-two years to life for his part. Dan Meyers was sentenced to serve one to ten years for his complicity in the attack upon the first nurse who survived. 

***

After the trial, the community of Ypsilanti felt that the finger of shame was being pointed at them for letting their kids run wild and get out of control. This was true from the Ann Arbor News perspective and the Detroit newspapers also.

The city of Ypsilanti went into a defensive mode. One former Ypsilanti policewoman, Mrs. Dellinger, was quoted as saying, "The community has committed itself to a hush-hush policy. My feeling is that there will be another episode just as horrifying before this community can be awakened."

Sixteen years later, the first of the Washtenaw County Murders struck the Ypsilanti community. This time a serial killer was on the loose, and the rubber mallet murder had long been forgotten.

Tuesday, March 4, 2014

Remembering Dawn Basom and Happier Times in Ypsilanti

Defunct Peninsular Paper Company hydroelectric plant on the Huron River, just south and across the street from Dawn Basom's home on LeForge Rd.

Working closely with the facts and circumstances of the Washtenaw County Murders has given me a concentrated view into the evidence against John Norman Collins. If I ventured no further than that, I would be able to present only one dimension of these young women - as victims. But they were much more than that.

It is their victimology that forever links them in death, seven women who had no knowledge of one another in life. It is this cruel irony that I have tried to mitigate by writing The Rainy Day Murders, which is currently undergoing an extensive rewrite before it goes off to an editor. I want to know more about these young woman as living human beings and not just the subjects of police reports.

Each of these girls was a unique person with hopes and dreams, strengths and weaknesses, joys and sorrows. Each had a family, be it good or bad, and each of the girls lives on in the memories of their family and friends. Each memory forever tainted by the senseless tragedy that befell each of them.

As much as I have learned about these girls as people over the last four years of researching their cases, I am forever an outsider when it comes to the aching memories of their loved ones. The efforts of my researcher and me to contact family members and friends for their testimonials has been only partially successful.

The pain is too strong, even after all these years. But in a few instances, some people have been able to overcome their emotions and rein in their grief to share their memories of happier times. Here is one such recollection of Dawn Basom's life by Elizabeth Kay Mann.


***

"I read a great deal of your information (Fornology posts) and was mesmerized and totally thinking what it was like for me being thirteen (Dawn's age when murdered) in Ypsilanti.

"Dawn and her brother were best friends of mine at Central Elementary School, I would say 1962 or so. I spent a lot of time with her family as I grew up on Ann St. not far from LeForge where she lived. We were in second grade and all of seven years old. I felt like part of her family.

"Our common denominator was the love of horses and horseback riding. Dawn had three palominos: Lady, the mom, and Joker and Ace. She and I rode nearly daily when our world was a softer, safer, much more gentle place. A time when folks looked out for the children that they saw everyday. 

Stock Photo - Not Dawn and Kay.

"We rode double on horseback in the fields near Peninsula Paper and Highland Cemetery, where it was peaceful, and along the Huron River in back of the Basom's land. A perfect childhood for two wonderful horse loving girls. It's all different looking today.

"As time marched on, I moved with my parents to the east side of Ypsilanti to Hickory Woods on Grove Rd., Dawn staying of course with her family on LeForge Rd. We invariably lost touch. She went to West Junior High School, and I went to East Junior High School. I never saw my childhood friend at Ypsilanti High School because her life was cut short.

"The atmosphere around Ypsilanti (during the murders) was one of fear and trepidation. Once the Washtenaw County Sheriffs' Department sent out information on the killings, and that perhaps Dawn was one of his victims, my parents locked me down. I was 5'5" tall with long brown hair, pierced ears, and I wore blue jeans. Everything I wore then told my parents to limit my life.

"There are so many questions in my heart about what may have happened to Dawn. I am sure I now know why I shared this with you. It is because I am now fifty-eight years old, the same age my second grade friend would be, and we still don't have answers about her death. I miss her so much.

"As grade school children, we had no fear and no worries. I will miss Dawn always. I will never forget the time when Ypsilanti lost its innocence and evil knocked on our doorsteps. My parents were terrified, as was the entire community. I so appreciate your mission to seek the truth. Thank you."

Sunday, October 21, 2012

October Ypsilanti Trip Proves Productive

I just returned home after two weeks of field research for In the Shadow of the Water Tower on John Norman Collins and the Michigan murders in and around Ypsilanti, Michigan. People have started to come forward and share information from those difficult days forty-five years ago.

These cases from the late Sixties are still considered "open" by the Michigan State Police. Getting information about them from official sources is no easy task. The Washtenaw County Courthouse, for instance, has "purged" the Collins' files from their records.

But thanks to the efforts of my chief researcher, Ryan Place of Detroit, Michigan, we were able to invoke the Freedom of Information Act to obtain more than 1,000 pages of prison documents from the Michigan Corrections Department.

Soon we hope to have a similar number of documents from the Michigan State Police. Most of these files will have routine information, but we are sure to find some nuggets of new information in them as well.

Through this blog and my Facebook page, I was able to connect with some former Ypsilanti High students of mine and several former Ypsilanti High School colleagues. This research trip was like old home week for me.

Thanks for your hospitality.