Each May, law enforcement officers who died in the line of duty are honored on National Fallen Officers Memorial Day.
Several Iowa Cold Cases victims of unsolved homicides were law enforcement officers murdered while on duty.
We honor the service of these fine men who died protecting their communities. Click on the individual names to read their stories.
Four Iowans lost their lives at the hands of others on this day in history. Methods of murder were particularly gruesome: an axe to the head while sleeping, a stab wound to the chest, a sledgehammer to the head, and even what appeared at first to be a simple case of falling down a staircase, but in fact turned out to be a gunshot to the head and neck.
Courtesy photo Chuck, findagrave.comThe primary suspect in two of the four cases involved a close family member.
One hundred and thirty-three years ago in 1879, Deborah Simmons, 62, of Waterloo, Iowa, retired for the evening with her husband, George, also 62. They owned and operated the New York House, a two-story hotel and stopping place for area farmers, and had a small bedroom off the dining room on the first floor. Their daughter Abby Simmons, 22, also had a bedroom on the first floor’s south side. Son George Simmons, Jr., 26, slept upstairs in the frame house’s northwest corner.
George Sr. awakened some time between 1:00 and 2:00 a.m. to what he thought was Deborah’s snoring. When he tried to awaken her, she made gasping sounds, and he called for his children; George Jr. ran outside to alarm neighbors.
Though an officer found the outside cellar door unlocked and the door from the cellar to the kitchen open, no footprints or other clues existed in the basement. Evidence existed that Deborah Simmons had been struck in the head with an axe, and that the blow occurred by a left-handed person. George Jr. was left handed, and was known to have quarreled with his mother about his recent divorce; he’d blamed his mother for the break-up.
David Redowl
A family feud also factored in to the evening when 27-year-old David Redowl of Sioux City was killed.
David and his 24-year-old sister, Sonja, both lived at home with their mother at 610 West 3rd Street. At approximately 2:00 a.m. on April 26, 1997, David and Sonja began arguing in the home’s back yard. Eventually, the disagreement escalated to a physical altercation. David soon fell to the ground, unconscious; he’d been stabbed in the chest.
Emergency personnel received a call at 2:07 a.m., but by the time authorities arrived, witnesses found it hard to agree on what really happened.
Michael J. Booth
Two hundred miles away in Des Moines, residents in an apartment building located at 510 15th Street noticed a foul odor coming from Apt. # 21. They notified the maintenance man and asked him to investigate.
Inside lay a man with injuries so extensive and decomposition so advanced he was unrecognizable. He’d been struck in the head … with a sledgehammer.
The victim was 45-year-old Michael Booth, a man his sister described as “smart, charming, and could sell anyone the Brooklyn bridge.”
Barbara Kay Brim, 53, died on April 26, 2001, after being shot in the head and neck the day before inside her rural Hamilton County home 15 miles northeast of Webster City. She’d just shared lunch with her husband, Larry, before he went out to a field to move farm equipment. When Larry came back to the house, he found his wife badly injured at the bottom of the inside stairs.
Barbara Brim
Barb was still alive when law enforcement arrived, and after being taken to a Webster City hospital, doctors discovered she’d actually been shot rather than having fallen down the steps as her husband first thought.
Larry Brim later discovered his wallet and some other items had been stolen from the home, and community members wondered if the killer had entered the home — believing no one was home — and then shot Barbara once she spotted them.
Larry Brim was eliminated as a suspect, and neighbors pitched in to help him with spring planting that year.
Our condolences go out to these victims’ family members and friends on this solemn day that serves as a reminder of justice not yet served.
Courtesy photo Shannon SalmonsI always know this day is coming long before it arrives. With a list of unsolved cases now at 615, one would think it would be difficult to keep them all straight. With some — where few details are available — the answer would be yes. But with others — the ones where I’ve had the opportunity to review autopsy reports and other documentation and even gotten to know the victim’s family members — I not only know the cases intimately, but feel the unsettled rustling deep down inside as an anniversary date approaches.
Courtesy photo Shannon SalmonsThe Jay and Jaymie Grahlman double homicide is one such case.
On a day like today — the 9th anniversary since the arson fire in their home that would claim both their lives — my mind plays out different scenarios in my head: What Shannon Salmons (Jaymie’s mother) might be doing at this very moment … is she looking through photo albums? Putting flowers on Jaymie’s grave? Writing in a journal or somewhere else about how another year has passed with no answers?
And what about Steve and Lori Salmons, Shannon’s brother and sister-in-law, who sat at Jaymie’s hospital bedside until Shannon arrived and hospital personnel eventually turned off the life support once they’d had the chance to say their final goodbyes? Or what about Duane Grahlman, who’d spent that last day with his brother Jay, barbecuing outside despite the chilly weather?
Courtesy photo Shannon SalmonsThis case is one of the tough ones. There are still more questions than answers when it comes down to who started the fire. Or how Jaymie ended up lying in the bathtub in a supine position, stretched out full length, as if simply taking a nap. Or why the burns were confined solely to the front of her six-year-old body. And why were there no burns on her feet? Why no singeing to her beautiful long brown hair?
This case did not end when neighbor Brian Zirtzman — charged with two counts of first-degree murder and one count of first-degree arson — was acquitted on all three charges. The double homicide remains an open case — one that continues to baffle authorities, who still aren’t convinced Zirtzman started the fire. Like nearly all arson cases where a body is discovered after the fire, this one also has the presupposition that the fire was set to cover up another more heinous crime.
This case is far from over.
Answers will be exhumed from the smoke and mirrors that once reflected and furthered fiery lies. This time, though, when the flames wane and weaken to all but crackling cinders, truth will find a backdraft and burst forth justice in a mighty blaze.
Today’s guest blog is written by David J. Jindrich, who feels a special connection to Sarah Ann Ottens. She was murdered in a University of Iowa dorm room on March 13, 1973 — 39 years ago today.
David is a Probation/Parole Officer with the Iowa Department of Correctional Services in the Seventh Judicial District. He has provided invaluable assistance to Iowa Cold Cases by locating hard-to-find newspaper clippings about 1950-1981 unsolved murders in Clinton, Scott, Jackson, Muscatine, and Cedar Counties. David and his wife Pam are volunters for findagrave.com.
~~~~~
Sarah Ann Ottens
By David J. Jindrich
My wife and I are avid genealogy researchers, auditing cemeteries and researching the history of our own genealogy and of those who settled the Midwest.
We have walked many cemeteries in eastern Iowa and western Illinois.
In November 2010, we went to Grove Hill Cemetery in Morrison, Illinois, and began to honor findagrave.com photo requests for that cemetery.
While walking a section in the northeast corner on a sunny fall day, I found myself standing in front of a family headstone marked “OTTENS”; directly in front was a marker that read “SARAH ANN, 1953 – 1973.”
I paused and realized that I had first encountered Sarah Ann four decades earlier in Iowa City. I introduced myself, took her cemetery photos, and said a short prayer.
I have come full circle, now residing in the community where Sarah Ann grew up and several blocks from where her elderly parents reside today.
In March 1973, I was a 16-year-old Iowa City teenager enjoying high school, sports, and pizza on Friday nights with my friends. The only worry I had was delivery of the Des Moines Register in the mornings, and earning enough pocket change for a pizza at Pagliai’s Pizza.
Iowa City was a small university community where kids could ride their bikes to the City Park and play without much concern. It was not uncommon to walk from South Dodge Street to Morningside Drive, where City High School is located, during the day or past dark.
On March 14, 1973, I started the cool spring morning by picking up my newspapers at Bowery Street Grocery and being greeted with the headline: “U OF I COED DIED FROM NECK INJURIES, SUFFOCATION.”
I sat down and began reading the article that would lead me four decades!
Sarah Ann Ottens, a 20-year-old University of Iowa Student, was murdered in her dorm room at Rienow Hall on March 13, 1973.
The case is well documented on Iowa Cold Cases and through years of Court proceedings leading to a conviction that was set aside by the Iowa Supreme Court in 1983.
On June 14, 1977, after serving two years in the U.S. Army, I began working at the Anamosa Men’s Reformatory as a Correctional Officer; for training purposes I was assigned to Classification.
A young male had been returned to the prison after an appeal and was present for Classification. He was of slim build with short hair and well-spoken because of his education.
Immediately, I recognized his name from the 1973 slaying of Sarah Ann Ottens. I began reading the case file and found myself shocked by the violent crime.
Photo by David JindrichSarah Ann was an attractive young woman, daughter, granddaughter, and big sister who grew up in a small Midwestern town located near the Mississippi River.
She was intelligent and received excellent grades in school and worked to earn extra money while attending the University.
After the conviction of her killer was overturned in 1983, I began thinking about the meaning of justice relating to Sarah Ann.
I concluded that justice is a word used in legal terminology to form a conception of benevolence, charity, mercy, generosity, or compassion.
But, justice can’t comfort the victim or hold the hand of loved ones when they’re facing the emotions of a senseless act.
Justice can’t replace a daughter, sister, and friend like Sarah Ann.
~~~~~
To read more about the murder of Sarah Ann Ottens, click here.
On Valentine’s Day of 1999, Jessica Raleigh discovered her mother Delores Antonia “Toni” Hornung shot to death in their home. During the same time period, another man was shot and killed in their Keokuk neighborhood.
Click here to read about Toni’s case.
Jessica has a special, from-the-heart plea for help in solving her mother’s murder:
“I am Toni’s daughter and it has been very hard living without my mother; and the fact that we have no answers about her murder makes it that much harder, not only for me but my family as well.
I also believe that her murder and the young man’s death are linked. I just hope that we will find out who did this.
She was a great woman, mother, daughter, sister, friend, cousin and so much more and was loved by so many people. All I ask is if anyone knows anything, even the littlest thing, to come forward because it may help solve this case.”
If you have any information about his case, please help Jessica and her family by contacting the Keokuk Police Department at 319-524-1414, the Lee County Attorney’s Office at 319-524-9590, or Iowa Cold Cases through the Contact form.
A fashionable home, a wealthy lifestyle, a maid and houseboy. Windsor Heights resident and soon-to-be-divorcee Anne McGrevey seemed to have it all. Until the night of January 30, 1948, when someone set a fire that killed her. Read about his unsolved arson/murder at http://iowacoldcases.org/case-summaries/anne-mcgrevey/
During the second week of January in 1867, a man’s body was discovered under a haystack on Washington Prairie a few miles from Frankville in Winneshiek County.
A newspaper reported that the body “presented a sickening and ghastly sight.” The man’s hair and whiskers had been cropped off and, in addition to bruises, he had many cuts from a large, sharp knife.
Despite these attempts to make the body unrecognizable, local residents could discern that the victim was William Clugston, described as “a young man” from Sandusky, Ohio, who recently sold some valuable horses in the area for a substantial amount of money.
No possessions or money were found on Clugston’s body, indicating robbery was the motive.
Questions and information about the unsolved 1867 murder of William Clugston should be directed to Iowa Cold Cases through the Contact form.
Holly, like all evergreens, symbolizes hope in the desolation of winter.
This Christmas and into the coming new year, know our thoughts will be with you and your families, and we’ll continue to do everything possible to ensure your loved one is never forgotten. It is never too late for justice, and, together, we are a strong and mighty force. We will never lay hope to rest.
To borrow a phrase from the iconic writer, Stephen King:
Hope is a good thing. Maybe the best of things. And no good thing ever dies.
Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to each and every one of you.
Jody and Nancy
Red Poppies, which grew on graves near the Western Front of WWI, are the symbol for Veterans Day.
Today — in honor of Veterans Day — we display the Red Poppy, the flower long associated with the occasion.
We remember and honor 43 Iowa victims of unsolved murder who were veterans. Many survived battles and life-threatening circumstances only to die violently at the hands of a murderer.
Below are the names, wars, and branches of services — when known — of ICC victims who were veterans. Click on the name to read each victim’s story:
We are grateful for their service to our country.
If you know of veterans this list overlooks, please send us the information by filling out a Contact form on our site.
Tippi Hedren in "The Birds"
Mea culpa. I couldn’t have picked a worse time to shut off the computer, clean the kitchen, go upstairs and talk with my son, and then go down two floors to start running a 50-foot DSL cable up the basement steps, through the kitchen and under a rug, through the dining room behind the sideboard and then over to my desk and hard drive, which is (temporarily) in the living room’s corner. You see, before I shut down my Mac, everything looked fine. I swear!
I won’t go into detail about the number of hours (okay, days, as in a few hours a day here, a few hours a day there) I spent trying to get those pesky little social media icons — Facebook and Twitter and the like — to where they’d show up correctly positioned on our website’s WordPress pages. The posts worked fine from the start, but no matter how many widgets and plug-ins I installed and tried, something always went awry.
Based on a good number of ongoing (and many unresolved) discussions on Internet forums, it appears those having problems are the ones (like me) who opted for “premium” WordPress themes that came with more php “template” (a misnomer; not what you think) pages than the Dead Sea Scrolls. (Ironically, they may as well have been written in Hebrew, Aramaic and Greek.)
More often than not, after following the next and then the next plug-in’s claims of Just-Download-and-Activate-and-You’re-Done! claims, I’d set the easy-to-follow preferences, click the done button, and then peek around the corner to see what happened. There they’d be, all those birds who so silently flew in to perch on every paragraph’s corner and then caw Tweet Me! Twitter Me! Follow Me or Share Me! — which, of course, rendered the home page nothing more than colored and splattered bird droppings.
But, I stayed the course. And even though my current chosen plug-in has neither the “Share this to your posts” nor the “Share this to your pages” box checked, my little feathered friends are finally showing up where I’d wanted them in the beginning. After a few other tweaks to the site and a “preview” that looked pretty darn good (if I do say so myself), I shut things down with the hope that a real live DSL cable would expedite the other tasks that accrued in my inbox while I’d obsessed over way too many obfuscated php hieroglyphics.
More than twice after quickly correcting another mess I’d made on the home page, I’d said to Dennis, “I’ll bet Nancy (my Iowa Cold Cases co-admin) is about to pull out all her hair if she’s been trying to get any work done on here.”
Enter the DSL cable. A faster Internet connection. One that took me with lightning speed straight to a home page that actually resembled something like a lightning bolt. The lines of text — not much more than an inch or so in width — speared straight to the bottom of the page, the photos and upcoming anniversary announcements piled up one on top the other in true train wreck fashion.
I knew it had been a long day when I started laughing. “Boy, if Nancy was mad before …” I said while digging through file folders in search of an “icc_base” css file I knew I’d stashed away somewhere a few weeks back — just in case. Miraculously, after a quick copy and paste (and believing I’d have to start again from scratch with The Birds) the page suddenly fell into place, complete with just four little colored icons lined up at the bottom that, turns out, made it through the storm and survived every post and page.
Second in line is one little blue bird, singing and tweeting as he flies away.
Today’s guest blog is written by Shannon Salmons, mother to 6-year-old cold case victim Jaymie Grahlman. Today, Jaymie — called ‘sis’ by her brothers and her mother — would have celebrated her 15th birthday. Below is a letter Shannon wrote to her daughter, followed by a poem chosen as a memorial.
By Shannon Salmons
Jaymie,
I can’t believe that you’re 15 now; I often sit here and imagine how your life would be if you were still with us… how beautiful you would have been. Would you have been the cheerleader that you always talked about?
I miss you sis, and as every day goes by I think of you. I look at your pictures and often wonder how you would look now. Would you still be tiny, or would you be tall like your brothers?
Your brothers miss you and have been talking more about you lately. It’s hard for big bubby because he loved you so much, and he still isn’t quite sure why God took you away from us. He tells the story of when you got real mad at him for not wanting to play dolls with you, and you and your temper. You shut the closet door on his head; I guess I should say slammed the door on his head, and Jesse, well, he was young when you left us but he remembers everything about you. He talks about you and asks if you’re here with us when the crazy little things happen. Or, when something he likes goes missing, of course he blames you. But that’s just what brothers do. Your Uncle Steve and Scott still blame me for things!
Grandma always tells the story of you and the marshmallows, when you got so mad and dumped the whole bag on the floor, and daddy came in and you thought that daddy was going to save you but you found out that he was on Grandma’s side. She smiles and laughs about how mad you got, the short time that you were here with us baby you left such a big impression on all of us. And even though you are in heaven and a day doesn’t go by that I don’t think of you, I thank God for letting you be a part of my life — most of all for being my daughter.
I love you so much it hurts, and I know I will be with you again one day, but until that day comes I will cherish all the memories I have because of you … the memories of you climbing into my bed and curling up … the only way that you would go to sleep … the way you smiled and said good morning … everything that you did, my beautiful daughter, is in my heart and will never leave.
But on this day, your 15th birthday, I hope you know that I love you more than anything, and I hope that your birthday is a beautiful day in Heaven for you!!
Jaymie, I Love You Baby Girl.
Love,
Momma
~~~
When tomorrow starts without me
And I’m not there to see;
If the sun should rise and find your eyes
All filled with tears for me.
I wish so much you wouldn’t cry
The way you did today;
While thinking of the many things
We didn’t get to say.
I know how much you love me
As much as I love you;
And each time that you think of me,
I know you’ll miss me too.
But when tomorrow starts without me
Please try to understand,
That an angel came and called my name
And took me by the hand.
She said my place was ready
In heaven far above;
And that I’d have to leave behind,
All those I dearly love.
But as I turned to walk away,
A tear fell from my eye;
For all my life, I’d always thought
I didn’t want to die.
I had so much to live for,
So much yet to do;
It seemed almost impossible,
That I was leaving you.
I thought of all the yesterdays,
The good ones and the bad;
I thought of all the love we shared,
And all the fun we had.
If I could relive yesterday
Just even for awhile,
I’d say goodbye and kiss you
And maybe see you smile.
But then I fully realized
That this could never be;
For emptiness and memories
Would take the place of me.
And when I thought of worldly things
I might miss come tomorrow;
I thought of you, and when I did,
My heart was filled with sorrow.
But when I walked through heaven’s gates
I felt so much at home;
When God looked down and smiled at me
From His great golden throne.
He said, “This is eternity
And all I’ve promised you;
Today your life on earth is past,
But here it all starts anew.”
“I promise no tomorrow,
But today will always last;
And since each day’s the same day,
There’s no longing for the past.”
“But you have been so faithful,
So trusting and so true;
Though at times you did do things,
You knew you shouldn’t do.”
“But you have been forgiven
And now at last you’re free;
So won’t you take my hand
And share my life with me?”
So when tomorrow starts without me,
Don’t think we’re far apart
For every time you think of me,
I’m right here in your heart.
Poem attributed to David M. Romano – 1993
Today, on the 8th anniversary of the day 30-year-old Corey Poffenberger left many lives, we have two very special tributes written by his family.
The first tribute is written by Corey’s mother, Cindy Poffenberger, and the second by Corey’s sister, Kelli Sims. They have shared with us not only their heartfelt and moving memorials, but a number of photos capturing the spirit of one young man loved by so many.
~~~~~~~
October 24, 2011
Our Dearest Corey,
It is still hard to believe that you are on the Iowa Cold Case web site. You cannot imagine how we have hoped and prayed that there would have been closure to this terrible tragedy before this 8 year anniversary. I am writing not only on behalf of myself, but for your Dad, Kelli, Justin, and all of your friends and family that love you so deeply.
There isn’t a day that goes by that we don’t miss hearing your voice, seeing that smile, or laughing at your quick wit. In so many ways it seems like yesterday and yet in so many others it seems like forever.
Many wonderful memories were made at our home on Central St. You were so proud to become a big brother. When we brought Kelli home from the hospital, you were so protective and didn’t want to share her with anyone. You, Kelli, and your cousins spent hours in the infamous toy room with the multi-colored ceiling tiles. I’m sure to this day that “Barbara Ann” still echoes in the walls. Tents made from chairs and blankets. Hide and Seek in the closets. Easter eggs colored by the dozens. Secrets whispered as you, Kelli, and your cousins would watch the grown-ups wrap Christmas presents from the upstairs vent. Christmas trees sprayed with snow from a can and tied to the banister to keep it from falling over. Snow men built, snow forts constructed and hundreds of snowballs thrown. And how could we ever forget that infamous fall off your bicycle, when Aunt Judy came to our rescue and you ended up at the hospital! You were so much like your Uncle Don, Grandpa Smith and your Dad. You could just look at something and know how to fix it. You were always tearing things apart just to see how they worked.
We remember how heartbroken you were to move to Hamilton, only to find that your best friends would be at that small town around the lake. Hundreds of escapades and memories with your buddies. Endless games of hearts and poker at the dining room table. The role of Danny Zucco in the class play “Grease” or the year those Marines
won the sectional. Spring breaks in Florida when everyone piled into that station wagon, or mowing Goat Hill, or parking cars for dances at Cold Springs. Countless rounds of golf, and hours upon hours of bowling with the gang.
With a blink of an eye you were off to IU. And your saga continued. From the residence hall, to Theta Chi, to the apartment with Jason and Shad. Remember you guys could sit in a room, not say a word and the laughter would start. Before long
you would all be rolling on the floor with tears streaming down your faces from laughing so hard.
You loved to laugh, you loved golf, IU basketball, music and movies. You loved life.
You always looked forward to coming home to visit and be with family and friends. You loved those family gatherings with that great food and euchre tournaments. (Like you always said, “Watch Grandma, she cheats!), and of course, karaoke and Summer Nights with Lesley.
Then to the Beach, Minneapolis and Des Moines. You bought your first home and you were so happy to have a mortgage payment! You were so excited when your Dad and I came to help you move in. You worked so hard to make it your home. I remember the smile on your face when we planted the new tree in the front yard. You thought it was the most beautiful tree on earth!
You always sought challenges in your work, and like so many have said, you just made life look so easy, but accomplished so much. You lived your life to the fullest, you were always the optimist. Everyday was a great day. You inspired those that surrounded you. Your quick wit, humor, unbelievable work ethic, and magnetic personality were the qualities that everyone loved. You strived hard and wanted to make us proud. You always knew how much we all loved you, and how proud we were of you.
I remember your voice so vividly when you called on Thursday night. You were so excited about your promotion. You had worked endless hours and we couldn’t have been prouder. You had made your flight reservations and would be coming “home” to the new house on the lake in two weeks. That weekend you were going to e-mail all of your buddies and let them know that you would be coming home for vacation. But that e-mail didn’t get sent…you were gone the next morning. We all felt that time had stopped and the world quit spinning.
Our hearts are broken that your time with us was so brief. We have so many unanswered questions….why would anyone do this? You deserved so much more.
With all our love forever,
Mom, Dad, Kelli, Justin, your family and friends
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
When the anniversary of my brother’s death approaches each year, I don’t have to look at the calendar and I don’t have to be reminded what month it is, I can feel it. Every year, for the last eight years, I feel different, act different, and think differently. I have an overwhelming sadness. Corey’s death has changed our family forever. Eight years ago I didn’t just lose a brother, I lost a part of my future, past, and imagination of what it would be like to have the only person that grew up exactly like I did, at my side.
I think about my brother each and every day. On most days I think about what he would have said, done, or acted like in certain situations. I also think about the good times we had together. Corey was the type of person that always made everyone laugh. He would tease me and instead of getting mad, I would start laughing. Corey was magnetic. Everyone that was around him was drawn to him. After my brother’s death, my husband told me that when my brother was in the room, my eyes would light up. I know in my heart that there are times that I still have that light in my eyes, but it will never be the same.
Corey worked hard, loved hard, and played hard. When Corey had a job, he quickly became the “go to” person no matter if it was working at a golf course, managing a club, or working for Mediacom. Corey always spent late nights and early mornings at each and every job he held in his very short life. This was one of my favorite qualities that Corey possessed. Everything he did he did with great passion and dedication and I feel comforted knowing that he didn’t take his life for granted.
Corey was very charming, charismatic, and someone that everyone wanted to be around. I deeply miss his smile, presence, and sense of humor, but most of all I just miss him. There is not a day that goes by that I wonder what he would be doing, where his life would have led him, and how deeply I miss him. I am proud and honored to not only know someone like Corey, but to be able to call him my brother.
Kelli Sims
~~~~~~
** For more photos and to read more about Corey’s case, please click here.
All were young. They should have been just getting settled into careers, raising children, discovering challenges and rewards that accompany adulthood.
Instead, they all went missing under mysterious circumstances, leaving in the wake families still left wondering what happened to their loved ones.
Richard Forsyth
Richard Neil Forsyth was only 27 when he disappeared October 18, 1979. He’d last been seen leaving his apartment carrying something wrapped in a rug. He was never heard from again.
Steven Kirchhoff in 1978
There’s still speculation his disappearance may somehow be connected to another Waterloo man’s disappearance: 22-year-old Steven Kirchhoff disappeared the year before and authorities believe his disappearance may have been drug-related. Forsyth paid cash for a Cadillac one week after Kirchhoff disappeared, only to later go missing himself.
Rodney J. Olsen
Exactly seven years after Richard Forsyth went missing, 32-year-old Rodney Olsen vanished from his northeast Mason City farm on October 18, 1986. The father of a young son, Olsen had only recently moved from his native Britt to the Mason City area.
Several months after his disappearance, Olsen’s black 1978 Pontiac Sunbird was found in a Forest City trailer park. Officials found no clues to indicate what might have happened to Olsen.
Melissa Hasley
October 18 proved to be another fateful day in 2002, when 31-year-old Melissa Hasley attended a party in the 1700 block of Grand Avenue in Des Moines, Iowa. Hasley had last been seen sitting on the apartment building’s fire escape with some friends. When a fire door alarm went off, Hasley exited the building through the alley door on the building’s north side, never to be seen again.
If you have any information about the whereabouts of any of these individuals, please contact the respective law enforcement agencies as listed on each victims’ case summary page.
Homer in Hamilton County
My search for crime scenes, unsolved mysteries, and murder victims’ stories often takes me down Iowa’s back roads.
On a recent day, my destination was Homer in Hamilton County — where Maria Dulin and Alta Paul were murdered in 1896.
Ten miles south and east of Webster City on meandering Stagecoach Road there’s a turn west and at that spot, nearly on the Webster County Line, are the skeletal remains of Homer.
Courtesy photo Don Lamb
A vacated Methodist church, its bell hacked out of the steeple, marks the intersection of what was once Main and Fourth streets. Everything else has disappeared except a couple of houses and the old General Store and dancehall.
Photo by Neal Bowers
Somewhere in this vanished town with its ghost streets still marked by fence rows cutting through the cornfields, the two women were murdered.
Alta Paul
Alta Fisher Paul, 26, was poisoned first — on July 3, 1896 — and then hurriedly buried by her husband James Paul on Independence Day morning so he could escort another young woman to a patriotic dance that night, held perhaps in the dancehall above the General Store.
Maria Dulin
Then 10 days later, Alta’s grandmother, 80-year-old Maria Dulin — a local midwife so beloved she was known as “Grandma Dulin” — died in a similar way.
Both women exhibited symptoms of strychnine poisoning.
There’s no trace in Homer of the two women. Alta was buried in an unmarked Webster County grave. But I found Maria 10 miles southeast in Saratoga Cemetery north of Stanhope beneath a stone erected by friends to honor her memory.
Photo by Neal BowersAlta’s husband James Paul was tried for murdering his wife and her grandmother. His alleged motives? Inheriting property and gaining his freedom to marry a local 17-year-old who’d caught his eye.
James Paul’s trial was sensational theater, with two local women swearing they observed James Paul give Maria “medicine” he’d gotten from his physician father and yet another testifying she found a bottle of white powder in a potato patch 50 feet from Maria Dulin’s home.
The lead actors in the drama, however, were two opposing chemistry professors.
The defense expert claimed that finding strychnine in a body doesn’t indicate poisoning.
James Paul, accused of poisoning his wife and her grandmother
The prosecution expert injected two live frogs with the strychnine-laced contents of the women’s stomach.
Even though the frogs died in front of the judge and spectators, the jury found James Paul not guilty.
James Paul’s father Dr. George Paul — the town’s physician and Maria Dulin’s neighbor — who was awaiting his own trial for alleged involvement in the deaths, was also set free.
Every back road I travel for Iowa Cold Cases leads to welcoming and helpful people, and this time was no different.
Homer residents Don Lamb and his brother Francis, who grew up there, didn’t know about Alta Paul and Maria Dulin.
But they shared with me their memories of the town and showed me bits and pieces of printed history.
The Lamb brothers said that in its prime Homer had three churches, a post office, a school, and 600 citizens. Bypassed when the railroad came through, the community shrank until the population in 2011 is only five people.
Don Lamb runs a thriving tractor and small engine repair operation in the former General Store, where inside steep steps lead up to the former dancehall.
Don and his daughter Brandi also manage an historical museum featuring antique mechanical equipment.
During the fourth week of August each year, they sponsor a steam engine threshing exhibition.
The prairie takes back its own. And as Homer recedes into the corn and soybeans, the remembrance of two poisoned women who received no justice might fade as well.
That’s why Iowa Cold Cases is keeping alive their memories and their stories, just two of the hundreds of victims to be searched for along the back roads of Iowa.
NOTE: This is the first in a series of Back Roads Sleuthing blogs.
Somebody Knows Something
Somebody knows something. They always do.
Yet, people still fear coming forward with what they know, even when they realize it could very well help solve an unsolved murder. Did you ever wonder why they remain silent?
We asked our readers last May, and the answers might surprise you. Our poll results, based on the options provided:
Five “other” custom responses included the following: they don’t want to be labeled as a SNITCH; they are not sure if the information they have is true, and only suspect it; all of the above; all of the above + apathy; and that they can’t remember.
That said …
The following month, June 2011, we followed up with another poll question. It asked:
If 100% anonymity were guaranteed, would you be willing to let Iowa Cold Cases serve as a liaison between you and the police?
The results:
No other custom replies were submitted.
Guess what? We’re ready to make good on our word. We’re hoping you will, too.
Our website here would not exist without trust. Readers, family members and victims’ friends often provide to us snippets of information they ask be kept confidential. We’ve honored each and every one of those requests. Had we ever violated — even once — a desire that details not be shared, the foundation on which we built Iowa Cold Cases would have crumbled long ago.
Make no mistake; under no circumstances will we ever compromise anyone’s safety.
So — what exactly are we asking you to do?
Take a deep breath …
And then:
It’s up to you.
It’s a New Year. Make a resolution to do what’s right. We’ll work with you however we can to relay your message to the proper authorities with the common goal of seeking justice for a victim and his/her family.