Carlisle Straw Stack Murder

Man running from straw stack
murder scene

The straw stack murder mystery broke in Des Moines in early August 1925. A red-haired woman was clubbed her to death and then burned in a straw stack on the George Patterson farm near Carlisle.

Investigators had little evidence to go on—a pile of bones, an expensive brooch, a string of pearls, and a tuft of red hair.

Earl Leverich and Harlan Cain found the charred skeleton at the top of Watts Hill. Leverich was driving home when he saw a skull in a pile of ashes in the field.

“Harlan thought I was seeing things,” said Leverich. He stopped the truck a couple of hundred feet down the road and walked back to investigate. “As we got closer to the skull, we could make out the rest of the body, which was badly burned.

“It looked to me as if someone was having a party that ended in murder.” He saw a partial bottle of ginger ale, alcohol, and some sandwiches nearby.

He said He Was Going To Kill Me And My Baby

Katherine and Paul Eberle

Paul Eberle was crazy. No one questioned that.

His chauffeur, Harry Schultz, heard Eberle tell his wife, “I don’t see why I don’t kill you, Katherine.”

Schultz watched Paul Eberle threaten the lives of his wife and child again and again. Once, he saw Eberle on the edge of killing himself. Another time, he said, “I’m going down in the basement to cut my arteries.”

Schultz and Katherine followed Eberle downstairs and watched him sit in a chair next to the furnace with a razor blade pressed to his wrist.

Eberle had many strange obsessions and addictions. He was a cigarette fiend, buying them in boxes by the tens of thousands. He drank coffee constantly and used drugs. His moods swung so fast, you never knew how he’d act.

Others noticed it too. John McDonnell said Eberle acted like a man with a permanent chip on his shoulder, ready to do battle at any time.

Mary Allen Talbert: Remembering Slavery

Mary Allen Talbert of Ottumwa, Iowa, was featured in the Des Moines Register on July 5, 1924. Born on Christmas Day in 1799, she was believed to be 115 years old. She had been born into slavery in Garrett County, Kentucky.

Talbert said long life ran in her family. Her mother lived to be 120.

 

She’d been sold three times in her 66 years as a slave. Her second owner, a man named Alford, sold Talbert and one of her daughters to John Bird Hamilton of La Grange, Missouri. Hamilton paid $1,000 for Talbert and $500 for her daughter. The sale separated her from her other children.

 

When Hamilton moved west, he sold Talbert to a man named Price, who also owned her husband. Hamilton kept four of her children—two sons and a daughter.

 

One of her sons joined the army and was killed. Another son, John Hays, also served in the army and later fought with Custer in the Big Horn. By 1924, Hays was 90 years old. One of Talbert’s daughters, then 87, was living in Kentucky. She did not know what had become of her other daughter.

Photo Ackley High School Baseball Team 1913

The Des Moines Register printed this picture of the Ackley High School baseball team. They won seven out of eight games played in the season. The only team that defeated them was Union high school.

Top row: Fakers, Snater, DeNul
Middle row: Reinhardt, Bolender, R. Leach, Bleeks.
Bottom row: Penning, G. Leach.

The Bomb Was Only The Beginning

Howard Drenter

Howard Drenter lived at home with his parents.

He was twenty-eight years old, a Scott County farmer, and he’d never lived anywhere else. He worked the fields during the day and came back to the same house every night. People described him as reliable. A man who didn’t waste words or draw attention. He didn’t drink, fight, or have a record. If anything, he blended in.

For a while, he kept company with Edna Smith, a teacher at the Argo School. She was young, attractive, and well liked. Parents trusted her their children. She and Drenter had been seeing each other since the spring of 1925. Things appeared good. They talked, danced, and went to the movies.

Over time, the questions started. At first, they sounded casual, almost playful. Until they didn’t. Drenter wanted details. Names. He watched her every move, wanted to know who she spoke to, who walked her home, and who sat near her at school functions. Edna noticed it. So did her friends.

By January 1926, she’d had enough. She broke things off, but Drenter didn’t let go. He kept asking her out. He showed up. Sent messages through others. She kept refusing. Each time, the refusals seemed to harden him. He stopped sounding disappointed and started sounding offended. At some point, the requests turned into warnings.

Photograph of Schools in Amana Colonies 1922

 

School building in the Amana Colonies, circa 1922. (Des Moines Register. October 22, 1922)

Photograph of Chariton Iowa in 1871

The Des Moines Register (October 22, 1922) printed this picture of downtown Chariton, Iowa in 1871. They said the picket fence around the courthouse yard had a stile around it to prevent the cattle from getting in. When farmers came to town, they unhitched their horses and fed them from the wagons.