"The Rainy Day Murders" Reflections

When I set out to write the full story of The Rainy Day Murders and the man accused of killing seven young women in and around Ypsilanti, Michigan (1967-1969), I was primarily concerned with recounting the facts and paying a long overdue debt to history.

What began as a simple attempt to recount the details of these ghastly slayings and the evidence against John Norman Collins became a much more personal and far reaching endeavor than I could have ever imagined.

In the last three and a half years, I have researched every bit of government documentation about these cases that Ryan M. Place and I have been able to lay our hands on. As valuable as that factual material is, it tells only the official part of the story.

Newspaper accounts from back in the day were helpful to me with providing commentary, revealing public opinion, establishing times and dates, and filling gaps in the public record of which there are many.

But without this age of internet personal communication, the story I am writing now could not have been told. I have been able to reach out to many people across the country who had information and were ready to share what they know from those times. 

Still, other people have contacted me through my blog, Gmail, or Facebook accounts wanting to tell their stories about their connections with the victims or the accused. Suddenly, the writing of this book became very personal.

It is this living history that adds texture and depth to this story. More often than not, these memories were difficult to share, but most people felt relieved telling their long hidden memories after forty-five years of silence.

Finding background information on the unfortunate victims began to give them personalities beyond the facts and the headlines I began my research with. The layering of one tragic case upon another has made this a difficult story to tell, but every bit of physical and circumstantial evidence I have been able to find points to one inescapable conclusion - the State of Michigan convicted the right guy. 

St. Patrick's Day Movie Pick - "The Quiet Man"

The Quiet Man is a masterful film realization of a wonderful short story by Maurice Walsh. This Technicolor movie won Republic Pictures its only best picture Oscar. 

If you want to do something to celebrate St. Patrick's Day that will make you proud to be of Irish descent, make yourself a corned beef and cabbage dinner with some boiled potatoes, pour yourself some Irish whiskey or some Guinness, and watch this sentimental movie. Ireland never looked lovelier.

Have a Happy St. Patty's Day.

Claudia Teal Whitsitt Writes Michigan Mystery - The Wrong Guy

The Wrong Guy is Claudia Teal Whitsitt’s second novel. It is set against the tainted campus atmosphere of Eastern Michigan University just after the arrest of real life serial killer, John Norman Collins. In August of 1969, less than a month after Collins was charged with the murder of an EMU coed, Whitsitt’s heroine, Katie Hayes, must adjust to freshman life away from home and reconcile her Catholic upbringing with the temptations of university life.

Whitsitt accurately depicts campus culture as she takes her heroine through the ups and downs of dormitory living and adjusting to her new life of freedom and possibility, juxtaposed against her inhibitions and keen sense of guilt-driven family responsibility.

Six months into the school year as Katie navigates her way through her first serious romance, an emergency calls her home. The unexpected trip turns her life and the vision she has created for herself upside down.

Once back at school and wrestling with her own demons, the campus is again terrorized by the abduction of one coed and the murder of another. Katie is left to wonder: Did the police arrest the wrong guy for the Ypsilanti coed killings?

Claudia Whitsitt creates several levels of tension and layers the suspense in this fast-moving and compelling novel. The Wrong Guy will resonate with any woman who ever dreaded fallout from a difficult relationship.

                         ***

For more information on Claudia Teal Whitsitt and her writing, check out this

link: http://www.claudiawhitsitt.com/

To purchase Claudia's novels, go here: http://www.amazon.com/Claudia-Teal-Whitsitt/e/B005DFQ4MU

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."

The LeForge Barn Fire - Murder Site of Dawn Basom - John Norman Collins' Youngest Victim

 

Barn next to abandoned farm house on Geddes and LeForge roads.

On Thursday, May 13, 1969, a barn only 100 feet from the abandoned farmhouse, believed to be the site of Dawn Basom's murder, was set ablaze at 3:17 in the morning.

***

Thirteen year old Dawn Basom was an eighth grader at West Junior High School in Ypsilanti and the youngest of The Rainy Day Murder victims.

Dawn was last seen alive on April 15, 1969, while walking down the Penn Central railroad tracks which was the short cut to her home on LeForge Rd. She had promised her mother she would be home before dark.  

Sergeant William Stenning of the Ypsilanti City Police Department received a call at 12:46 AM on April 16, 1969, from Mrs. Cleo Basom saying her daughter had been missing since late afternoon on Tuesday.

Mrs. Basom said that Dawn was given a ride by her uncle to the corner of Cross and River Sts in Depot Town early in the evening to meet a boy friend by the first name of Earl, last name unknown. She was last seen wearing a white plastic jacket, white cotton blouse, and blue stretch pants.

The next morning, Dawn's abused and naked body was found on the east edge of Gale Rd just north of Vreeland Rd, about a mile from her murder site at a barn on Geddes and LeForge Rds. 

Sheriff Harvey showing spot where Dawn's body was found.

During the subsequent investigation of Dawn's murder, State Police crime scene investigators found articles of her clothing in the cellar of the nearby farmhouse and other evidence linking the site to Miss Basom's murder.

Her murderer had to use a car to capture Dawn and take her away unnoticed. She was tom-boyish and liked to wrestle with her older brothers in the front yard of their house, so she would have probably put up a struggle and offered some resistance to being captured. 

It was unlikely she would accept a ride from a stranger so close to her home, less than 100 yards, though she was known to hitchhike. 

More likely, someone laid in wait for Dawn and overpowered and incapacitated her, or perhaps she knew or recognized the person she got into the car with. Either theory ends up with Dawn being held captive in a psychopath's car.

***

Twenty-nine days after Dawn's killing, the barn adjacent to the farmhouse murder site burned to the ground. The Michigan State Police arrested an Eastern Michigan University student from Harper Woods, Ralph R. Krass, 21, on Friday, May 15, at his apartment at 1431 LeForge Rd which happened to be near the Basom home on the same street.

He was arraigned by District Judge Rodney E. Hutchinson and stood mute when the judge set the bail at $5,000. Unable to post bond, Krass was taken to the County Jail.

Michigan State Police expected more arrests but were unable to confirm that the barn burning had any connection with the murder investigation. The arson was still under investigation.

Three days after the arrest of Krass, his roommate, Clyde Surrell, 19, of Ypsilanti, stood mute on a charge of aiding and abetting arson. He was released on $2,000 bond pending a hearing on the matter.

Police say that Krass admitted walking to the farm with two companions and setting some dry hay on fire in the barn's loft. The three young men ran away but returned while the Superior Township Fire Department allowed the fully engulfed barn to burn to the ground. They prevented the farmhouse and the cellar from catching fire but not from sustaining water damage.

When the last of the blaze was extinguished, a reporter looking over the smoldering ruins discovered five, fresh cut, purple lilac blossoms lying nearby. He theorized that someone left one for each of the five murdered girls. 

After an investigation, authorities charged the men with arson but cleared them of any involvement in the Basom murder. Mr. Krass gave no reason for burning down the barn. 

Two That Got Away from John Norman Collins and Andrew Manuel

In the summer of 1968, fourteen year old Robert Fox was hitchhiking alone on Washtenaw Ave. when a gray convertible with the top down stopped to pick him up. Two guys were in the car.

Interior of 1956 DeSoto convertible.

He remembers that "as smooth as can be, the passenger door swung open, and the darker of the two men stepped out smiling. I unthinkingly slid between them. Within seconds, I realized I was trapped. Their talk was immediately suggestive. The vibe was the spookiest I ever felt.

"I was frightened and decided to patronize them and told them I was broke and hungry, hoping they would buy me something. Lucky for me, they pulled into the A&W on Washtenaw Blvd. Thank God it was a convertible - the moment the car stopped, I jumped from the center seat into the back seat, and leaped out onto the parking lot. Then I ran into the marshland between Washtenaw and Packard Rd. I was never so glad to get my feet wet! Don't know what I would have done if the top hadn't been down.

"I didn't study their faces - in fact - I avoided eye contact. I remember the passenger the most. He frightened me because he had run the trap on me. His hair was darker than the driver's, and he was heavier set than the driver. He looked Mexican to me. I have a vague recollection of the side of his face. His dark hair was wavy but not curly, not a thin face and pock marked with zit scars. It was absolutely a two-man operation. The trap was very smooth - rehearsed if not practiced."

Like many people who recognized Collins after his photograph was plastered all over the front pages, Robert Fox had the same reaction when he recognized a photograph in the newspaper of Andrew Manuel taking a perp walk with two FBI agents outside the Federal Building in Phoenix, Arizona.

"This episode scared the hell out of me," Fox said. "What surprises me looking back is that I did not make the connection that those guys might be the murderers."

Although Fox couldn't identify the make and model of the car, he did remember the color - gray. It sounds like the same car Collins drove when he first arrived on campus, a 1956 DeSoto Coupe convertible, previously owned by his older brother.

This is likely the car identified by one on Mary's neighbors that Collins used to harass Mary Fleszar when she was walking home the last night of her life. It was the same car that took Collins to Moore's Funeral home in Ypsilanti where he showed up at closing to take a photograph of Mary's body in her closed coffin. He claimed to be a friend of the family. 

Harold Britton, the funeral home director, refused the young man's request. After he left, Britton called the Fleszar family. They hadn't given permission for anyone to take pictures of the body. 

Then Britton called the police and identified the car as being blue/gray. He didn't get the license plate number nor could he identify the car's make or model as it pulled away in the dark. But he did say it was an older model car.

1956 DeSoto Fireflight Adventurer Coupe

And this was likely the same car that John Norman Collins used to take Joan Schell to Ann Arbor on her final ride. Not long after Schell's disappearance and murder, Collins sold the DeSoto to someone in the Detroit area. From then on, he had full use of his mother's new 1968 silver Oldsmobile Cutlass.

***

A woman who wishes that I not use her name related this up close and personal John Norman Collins anecdote to me:

"A person introduced to me as 'John and his date' were in the back seat of my date's car. We were going to a spring fraternity formal. The person seemed really nice and cute. He was talking to me a lot and I liked it.

"All of a sudden, he asked his date 'Are you having your period?' The poor girl was mortified. It was awful. He told her she was stinky. He went on and on. I had tears in my eyes for her.

"When we got to the party, I told my date that I refused to go home with that guy. My godfather lived in Detroit. I gave him the choice of dumping this guy and his date, or I would call and have my godfather pick me up.

"It was about six months after that when a person came up on me while I was leaving my night class at Washtenaw Community College. He started walking and talking to me. I thought I had met him before but wasn't certain. He was real pleasant at first. But when I walked up to my car in the parking lot, he yelled, 'Get the bitch!' There was a Hispanic man hiding in my backseat. There was a darkness in his eyes that was terrifying. He tried to pull me into the car.

"I dug my feet in the ground, and resisted the best I could. I yelled 'help' then 'fire' then 'rape.' No one heard at first. I started screaming the name of some guy I knew at a parking space some distance away. Finally, three guys started running towards me to help. I was dropped by the two men who jumped in a truck parked next to my car and drove quickly away.

"When I reported it, the first thing I told the police was 'I've seen one of them before.'

Corvair Corsa

"Somehow, he got my phone number and started calling me at home several times a day. He told me that I was a 'rich bitch' because I had a new Corvair convertible.... He would call and say how cool I thought I was in my car and how he would end that. He told me there was no place for me to be safe. He would tell me where he saw me and what I was wearing. I had two jobs and he knew where I worked. I was scared.

"My dad worked for the phone company and was close friends with Ann Arbor police chief of detectives. Michigan Bell tapped my phone so it rang at the police station. I was told that the police were keeping an eye on several other people too. 

"When the police came and put me under house arrest for my safety, I still didn't know who the caller was.... It wasn't until Collins was arrested that a frat guy called and told me who he was. Only then was I able to put things together. The caller remembered how uncomfortable I was when I wouldn't ride in the same car with Collins. I was just blessed to get away.

"Recently, I met a woman from Holland, Michigan. I have told very few people about this, but I told her. She said I was living for all those girls.... I am so surprised that I wrote to you. It is part of my life, but maybe this story will make people be more careful."

Did John Norman Collins Work Alone?

Boarding house where Collins, Davis, and Manuel lived.

A nagging question people familiar with the Washtenaw County serial killings ask is, "Did John Norman Collins have any accomplices? And if so, are they still at large in the area?"

It is known that Collins was not alone when he picked up the second victim, Joan Schell, on the evening of June 30th, 1968. She was hitchhiking to Ann Arbor from McKenny Union on Eastern Michigan University's campus in Ypsilanti.

Miss Schell was picked up by three young men in a red vehicle with a black convertible top thought to be a Chevy. Along with Collins, who was wearing a green EMU tee-shirt, was Arnold Davis, a close friend, and an unidentified third person who the other men refused or were unable to identify.

John Norman Collins and Arnie Davis - EMU Ski Club - 1967.

Soon, Collins offered Joan a ride to Ann Arbor in his car, and the two other guys were sent on their way. This information was discovered in a police interrogation of Arnie Davis after Collins was arrested for the murder of Karen Sue Beineman a year later.

Arnie, who lived in a second floor room across the landing from John Norman Collins, said that in the early morning hours of July 1st, Collins returned to the house with Joan's red shoulder bag. Arnie asked him about it and he replied, "She ran from my car and left her purse behind." 

Davis reported that Collins rifled through her wallet and examined her driver's license and exclaimed, "The bitch lied to me. She told me she was married."

Joan Schell's nude body was found a week later on the outskirts of Ann Arbor. At the very least, Arnie Davis had information which could have prevented the slayings of five other women if only he had come forward with what he knew. Strictly speaking, Arnie Davis was not legally obligated to contact the police, but he was morally obligated, and he made the conscious decision to conceal what he knew.

Of the seven victims that comprise the cases against Collins, it is certain that other people knew or suspected Collins early on. But either out of misplaced loyalty, fear of Collins, or out of their own complicity on some level, several key players remain silent. 

Fearing an arrest on burglary charges and other unspecified charges against him, Arnie Davis was given full immunity by the Collins' prosecutors on the condition that he testify against his friend in open court. With great reluctance, Davis testified in the Karen Sue Beineman case but was prevented from making any statements regarding any of the other cases, lest there be a mistrial called. He was extensively interviewed by police about the Joan Schell case also.

***

In the most obscure of the Collins' cases, there was undoubtedly some collusion by another of Collins' housemates, one Andrew Manuel, a petty career criminal from Salinas, California. He came to Michigan to work in an auto plant but eventually lost his job. He found another factory job at Motor Wheel Corporation making wheel housing components. That's where he met John Norman Collins.

Andy was two years older than Collins and worked the night shift full time. Collins went to school during the day and worked a four hour part time night shift. The young men worked together and became friends. 

Despite being married and renting an apartment with his wife on Ypsilanti's east side, Andy Manuel also rented a room at the Emmet St. boarding house along with Arnie Davis and Collins. The young men became friends and soon formed a burglary crew.

In June of 1969, Collins and Manuel decided to leave Ypsilanti for about a month. Between March and June, four local women were slain and deposited around Washtenaw County and every policeman available was working the case. 

These two young men also had been busy breaking into homes, burglarizing cars, and stealing anything of value they could carry off and fence later. They left town hoping for the local heat to die down.

Collins and Manuel went to Hendrickson's Trailer Sales and Rentals on East Michigan Ave. They placed a $25 cash deposit down for the rental of a seventeen foot long house trailer. The following day, they paid for the rest of the rental with a stolen check and false ID. Collins told the rental people they were going fishing in Canada for a week. After the trailer was hitched to Collins' Oldsmobile Cutlass, they headed west on Interstate-94 for California.

Andy Manuel was from Salinas, California, and once they arrived there, they parked the trailer behind his grandparents' house. Within a week, Roxie Ann Phillips from Milwaulkie, Oregon, was visiting family friends and crossed Collins' path. She went missing on June 30th, 1969, and her nude body was found two weeks later on July 13 at the bottom of Pescadero Canyon, north of Carmel Valley in Monterey County.

Salinas police investigators discovered that on July 3rd, 1969, Collins went to the Tolan-Cadillac-Oldsmobile dealership to have repairs made on his car and to have a trailer hitch removed. Then the pair returned unexpectedly early to Ypsilanti. 

When the Salinas Police discovered the trailer abandoned behind Manuel's grandparents' home, the forensic crime lab checked it out from top to bottom. They discovered that the trailer had been wiped clean inside and out. Not a single fingerprint could be found. That in itself pointed the finger of suspicion at the two absent men.

I find it unbelievable that Manuel did not know that Collins had killed Roxie Ann Phillips. Whether Andy had anything to do with Roxie's murder or not is unknown. The evidence suggests that Collins acted alone, but where was Manuel at the time? Surely, he helped Collins wipe the trailer clean of fingerprints and any other collateral evidence. 

I wonder what their conversation was about on their way back to Michigan. Shortly after they returned to their boarding house, Manuel gathered up his belongings and left the state again unannounced. He had to know what had happened in California and wanted to distance himself from Collins and the law.

Andrew Manuel in FBI custody.

After a nationwide manhunt, the FBI arrested Andrew Manuel in Phoenix, Arizona. He was hiding out at his sister-in-law's house. At the very least, Andrew Manuel was an accessory after the fact and withheld information from the police investigators. But when he was interrogated by the police and prosecutors, he passed several polygraph (lie detector) tests. Manuel was given a clean bill of health from the authorities.

Andrew Manuel had been given a deal. Prosecutor Booker T. Williams went out on a limb for him. Williams said at the close of Manuel's fraud case for stealing the trailer, that Mr. Manuel had no involvement in any of the murders. He was given a $100 fine and one year's probation. 

As soon as he could, Manuel violated his probation and fled again but was soon captured to serve out his sentence in the Washtenaw County Jail. When he was called to testify in the Karen Sue Beineman case, Andy played the village idiot and didn't cooperate with the prosecution in any significant way.

***

Whether either of these guys was directly involved with any of the Washtenaw County murders hasn't been firmly established. It is known that Arnie Davis and Andrew Manuel were involved with Collins in other illegal activities, and they prowled the Ann Arbor and Ypsilanti streets together.

The theory that Collins did not always act alone is persistent. Several people have come forward recently saying that they escaped the clutches of Collins and Manuel and lived to tell their stories. Sometimes, a simple ruse was all that was needed to lure a person in, but other people report struggling to escape from them.

As soon as they could after the Collins trial, Arnie Davis and Andy Manuel left Michigan. These men now live on opposite ends of the country. It should also be noted that after the arrest of John Norman Collins, the two year nightmare of sex-slayings of young women in Ypsilanti and Ann Arbor ended. But worries that Collins did not act alone and that his accomplices are still lurking in the area are persistent concerns held by many people today.