Increasingly, however, that hope seems unrealistic. Indeed, in the thirty years since his crimes first became known to an appalled and disbelieving public, Gein’s notoriety has actually increased, thanks largely to his impact on American popular culture. In 1975, a young Austin filmmaker named Tobe Hooper—who, as a child, had heard tales of the Wisconsin ghoul from visiting relatives—transformed his childhood recollections of the Gein horrors into one of the most harrowing movies ever made,
The Texas Chain Saw Massacre
. A triumph of drive-in Grand Guignol, Hooper’s film let loose a flood of teenage slice-’em-ups known collectively as “splatter” movies—movies with titles like
Driller Killer, The Tool Box Murders
, and
Motel Hell
. Besides Hooper’s exploitation classic, two more of these films were based directly on the Gein legend: a low-budget shocker called Deranged and an even lower-budget gore fest with the improbably perky title
Three on a Meathook
.
Indeed, it can be argued that insofar as Hitchcock’s
Psycho
was the prototype for every “slasher” film that followed, the figure of Eddie Gein stands behind all the knife- and ax- and chainsaw-wielding psychos who have stalked the screen during the past decade, preying on oversexed adolescents in films like
Halloween, Friday the 13th, A Nightmare on Elm Street
, and all their imitators and sequels. If there can be such a thing as a seminal psychotic, that dubious honor must surely belong to Eddie Gein—the patron saint of splatter, the grandfather of gore.
Even today, public fascination with his case continues. As recently as November 1987, the
Madison Capital Times
ran an article about one of the psychiatrists who had interviewed Gein at the time of his arrest. Headlined “
INFAMOUS KILLER ED GEIN WAS ‘SENSITIVE,’ PSYCHIATRIST SAYS
,” the article quoted Dr. Leonard Ganser, a retired psychiatrist for the State Department of Health and Social Services, who described Eddie as “always considerate and courteous,” a “sensitive man” who “did not want to give offense.”
In October 1987, Judge Robert Gollmar died at age eighty-four after a long and illustrious career, during which he had presided over scores of sensational murder trials. But, as his obituaries made clear, it was for his role as judge in “the ‘Psycho’ trial”(as the
New York Times
called it) that he would forever be remembered.
During the past few years, Eddie has been the subject of a play, a documentary, even a comic book. In the early 1980s, a Minnesota filmmaker announced his plans to make a movie called “A Nice Quiet Man,” based on the story of Gein. It would not, the producer insisted, be a “guts and gore film” but rather a “message movie”(the message being “that it is society’s responsibility to detect bizarre behavior and help those who need it”). The producer did not expect to land a big-name star for the role of Eddie Gein. For the part of Bernice Worden, he hoped to secure the services of Joanne Woodward.
Perhaps the most succinct and eloquent proof of Gein’s ongoing fascination, however—of his status as a contemporary cult figure and pop immortal—was a classified advertisement that appeared not long ago in an issue of a publication called
Fangoria
, a monthly newsstand magazine devoted exclusively to “horror in entertainment.” The ad (from a company called Bates Enterprises) was for a silk-screened T-shirt created in tribute to “the guy who got it all started.”
The message on the T-shirt, printed in letters of blood, bones, and body parts, reads “Ed Gein Lives.”
A
CKNOWLEDGMENTS
T
hanks to the support and encouragement of many people, the writing of this book proved to be a much pleasanter experience than it might have been, given the grimness of the subject matter.
My researcher, Catharine Ostlind, provided invaluable assistance at every stage of the project. Her professionalism, energy, and generosity were enormously sustaining. Without the enthusiasm of Stacy Prince and Elizabeth Beier, this book would never have been more than an interesting idea, and I am grateful to them both, as I am to my agent, Jonathan Dolger, who offered the kind of advice, aid, and comfort I’ve come to depend on.
During the time I spent in Wisconsin, I was treated with unfailing kindness by everyone I met. Among the people whose thoughtfulness I will always be grateful for are Michael Bemis of the Wisconsin Department of Justice Law Library; Joan and Fred Reid of Plainfield, who opened their home to me; Irene Hill Bailey, who, in spite of the evident pain they are still capable of causing, spent an afternoon recalling the memories of three decades ago; the late Judge Robert Gollmar, a thoroughly gracious gentleman, and his equally gracious wife, Mildred. I would also like to thank Roger Johnson, Floyd and Lyle Reid, Dr. George Arndt, and the Honorable Jon P. Wilcox.
Many other people offered me various kinds of assistance during the researching and writing of this book, among them Nancy Alquist, Howard Bjorklund, Robert Bloch, Mindy Clay, Debra Cohen, Jim Donna, Daniel Dowd, Dominic Frinzi, Jim Hansen, Georgina Harring, Sid Harring, Dawn Hass, Mark Hasskarl, Rick Hayman, Jack Holzheuter, Andrea Kirchmeier, Peggy Klimke, Ann Lund, Dennis McCormick, Linda Merrill, Sally Munger, Roberta Otis, Eugene Perry, John Reid, Jo Reitman, David Schreiner, Darold Strege, Robert E. Sutton, and Myrna Williamson. I owe a debt of gratitude to them all.
As always, Jonna Semeiks provided the most constant and crucial support. Without her, this book simply couldn’t and wouldn’t have been written.
HAROLD SCHECHTER
is a professor at Queens College, the City University of New York, where he teaches courses in American literature and culture. He is the author of the novel
Outcry
, a chilling tale inspired by the legacy of killer Ed Gein, and five nonfiction books:
Bestial, Depraved, Deranged, Deviant
and, with David Everitt,
The A to Z Encyclopedia of Serial Killers
. A previous novel,
Dying Breath
, was written with his wife with his wife under the pseudonym Jon A. Harrald. They live in New York State.
Bernice Worden, Eddie Gein’s last victim. (Wide World)
The Gein farmhouse. (Wide World)
The summer kitchen, attached to the rear of the farmhouse, where Bernice Worden’s body was found. (UPI/Bettmann Newsphotos)
A Wautoma police officer points his flashlight at the spot inside the summer kitchen where Bernice Worden’s dressed-out body was discovered hanging by its heels from the rafters. (Wide World)
Eddie Gein’s kitchen. (Frank Scherschel,
Life
magazine © 1957 Time Inc.)
One of the rooms belonging to Augusta Gein, which her son had sealed off from the squalor of the rest of the house. (Frank Scherschel,
Life
magazine © 1957 Time Inc.)
Sheriff Arthur Shley escorts Gein into the Waushara County Courthouse. (UPI/Bettmann Archive)
Gein at his preliminary hearing. (Wide World)
The hearse bearing Bernice Worden’s casket drives past her hardware store on the morning of her funeral. (Wide World)
The entrance to the Plainfield cemetery, one of three local graveyards plundered by Gein. (UPI/Bettmann Newsphotos)
Plainfield sexton Pat Danna stands by the looted grave of Mrs. Eleanor Adams. Directly behind the Adams’ plot are the graves of Eddie Gein’s mother and father. (Wide World)