C &S printed in the quantity of one hundred at
T he C avelle & S ons P ress in L exington , K entucky copyright ,
1939
by
hardesty dross
No part of this book may be reproduced without permission from The Cavelle & Sons Press.
co ntents Hardesty Dross Truman MacAvoy letter: Palmarie MacAvoy letter: Rodney Jewell letter: Charles Dawson letter: Thatcher Crawford -Mews transcript: Harlan County Police Dept. article: Associated Press letter: Mae Delacroix summary: Chicago Passavant Memorial Hospital license: Valencia County transcript: Harlan County Police Dept. letter: Truman MacAvoy afterword: Hardesty Dross foreword: letter:
5 8 12 16 19 21 24 30 32 35 38 40 45 48
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FOREWORD
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I became acclimated to the case Truman MacAvoy while pursuing graduate work at Harvard University, during the peak of the dust bowl as I recall it. I had been assigned to do a case study of the Yancey Coal Mine Disaster, which took place in December, 1932. of
For two semesters–Autumn & Winter, 1936–I immersed myself in a slew of accounts detailing the great waves of loss, disaster, & forthcoming economic collapse that overtook this small, mining community. Though it is not my intention to make this chronologue about my own existential crises, I must impart upon you the deep effect these accounts had on my understanding of human suffering. Being a third-generation of the Ivy League, I’d never been made to face such terrific hardship. In all
honesty I did not know such hardship existed. Looking back at that time in my life now I am frankly quite embarrassed, both by my naïvety regarding the great woes of the world, & the rather immature mechanisms I employed to manage my reactions to those woes. Many apologies have been long overdue. You may take them now. The elements of Truman MacAvoy’s case began to materialize for me as ornaments surrounding the media storm of Mae Delacroix’s disappearance in February of that year. In one such report, the Commonwealth Journal of Somerset, Kentucky, printed Truman’s high school graduation portrait beside a photograph of him looking rather despondent at a recent family gathering. Above the two photographs read the headline: have you seen him?
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The fact is I had seen “him” before. He’d been living in the wall above my washbasin for months. Of course, I am referring to my refection in the mirror, & furthermore, myself. I am merely drawing an association, sadly. Let me clarify: I discovered a great deal of empathy for the two Truman MacAvoys, or rather, in the disconnect between the youthful, optimistic Truman of his high school portrait & the older, more defeated one. What had changed in him, I wondered? Furthermore, what had changed in me? Thus began my three-year investigation into the case of Truman MacAvoy. I was convinced that if I could find some evidence of salvation in his struggle, there would be hope for salvation in mine. His is a human disaster. If a mine caves in with the miner inside, he will surely die. If one’s heart caves, however, there is occasionally hope of reconstruction.
Much about Truman MacAvoy remains a mystery. For example, his whereabouts following this chronologue have yet to be determined. It’s unclear, even, whether or not he still resides among us in this life. I feel safe in assuming, however, that the mistakes & passions driving his flight from history will soon become his legacy. What follows is the culmination of my findings: 12 documents which detail the progression of incidents spanning that winter of 1933, of which Truman was the center. I only ask that you unravel with consideration. These are lives, after all. ~ HARDESTY DROSS, Ph.D.
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TRUMAN MacAVOY’S letter
to PALMARIE MacAVOY
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PALMARIE MacAVOY’S letter
to TRUMAN MacAVOY
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When I was nine, a time when my interest in entomology was beginning to peak in a big way, I was out in the backyard digging around our enormous balustrade of hedgework for insects. I found a Six-Spotted Green Tiger Beetle, only it had a seventh spot, quite a remarkable find. I snatched it up & went running to the front lawn to show my father, who held a Ph.D. in both entomology & molecular genetics from my alma mater, Harvard. “It’s a cicindela sexguttata with a seventh spot,” I said breathlessly. My father took it in his hands, bringing it close to his reading glasses. “No, it isn’t,” he said dryly, “just a bit of dirt, that’s all.” He handed the beetle back to me & went about reading the Sunday Times. I have a whole childhood of memories just like that one. My parents were both scholarly meta-intellectuals. This left
them far too detached to offer any kind of love for me. Nevertheless their recurrant displays of distance are not excuse enough for the way I treated my parents when I went the university. I never came home for holidays; I hardly even spoke to them. When their deathbed days came, I was nowhere to be found. Most likely I was buried up under some gargantuan pile of decaying books tied in one way or another to the Yancey case study. I swore to never be like them, yet here I am. I think I always wanted a mother like Palmarie. Despite her tendency to be overbearing, I find her unconditional love & adoration for her son to be wholly refreshing. She would do whatever necessary to get Truman out of trouble. She is his mother, after all. ~ HARDESTY DROSS, Ph.D.
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RODNEY JEWELL’S letter
to PALMARIE MacAVOY
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CHARLES DAWSON’S letter
to TRUMAN MacAVOY
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THATCHER CRAWFORD-MEWES’ letter
to TRUMAN MacAVOY
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An
interesting fact about ThatCrawford-Mews is that he is became the basis for Mashermouth, a villian in the popular comic strip Huck Nord Adventures. In the story, Huck Nord is a Chicago detective trying to solve a string of crimes committed by the notorious supervillian, Mashermouth. cher
The creator of strip, ex-Chicago Police Department deputy Randall Steppe, had this to say about Crawford-Mews: “I stayed on Thatcher’s case for seven years. If he wasn’t on the run, he was breaking out of jail. For a lowlife pimp and bootlegger, he was very smart and very quick. It seemed like he was always one step ahead of us, which is why I made Mashermouth’s superpower the ability to step one second into the future.” The great conflict of Huck Nord Adventures is that at the scene of each crime, Mashermouth leaves a clue behind. Sometimes it’s in the
form of a trinket, and other times a newspaper clipping. Huck Nord wholly devotes himself to piecing them together so that he can unravel the mystery of Mashermouth’s identity, and the reasons behind his criminal outbursts. In the final scene of the strip, dated March 13th, 1936, Huck Nord is hanging from a clifftop by one hand with Mashermouth standing maniacally over him, shrieking, “You fool, there’s no pattern at all! Can’t you see, it’s all random! That’s why you’ll never catch me!” and then mashes his heel into Huck Nord’s fingers, sending Nord to his death. I have a nephew who reads those strips, Nel. I haven’t spoken to him about them, though. The child seems intellegent enough. I wonder what he’d have to say about Thatcher CrawfordMews, being an impartial party. ~ HARDESTY DROSS, Ph.D.
HARLAN COUNTY POLICE DEPARTMENT interview transcript
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TRANSCRIPTION.
02/11/1933
Investigative Sgt. Dave Gorham #4619 & Detective Noel Jensen Harlan County Police Department intert 1119. Interview of Palmarie MacAvoy. Case # 03-8744 GORHAM:
How are our levels, Detective?
JENSEN:
(inaudible), but I think they’re (inaudable). Will you speak into the microphone, Mrs. MacAvoy?
MACAVOY:
Yes? Can you hear that? Is this fine?
JENSEN:
(inaudible)
GORHAM:
Alright, let’s begin. Mrs. MacAvoy, are you aware of the
whereabouts of your son?
MACAVOY:
Forrest? He’s down at the mine with his father. They’re so reckless, after all.
GORHAM:
No, ma’am, not Forrest, Truman. Are you aware of the whereabouts of your son Truman?”
MACAVOY:
Oh, goodness, Truman.
GORHAM:
Ma’am? Do you know where Truman is?
MACAVOY:
No, as a matter of fact, I do not. I don’t have the slightest guess at where Truman is. He stopped writing about a month ago. And just recently I got a letter in the mail, from his employer. It said that he stopped going to work, and that he hasn’t been back to his room. I haven’t the slightest idea where he could be.
JENSEN:
Excuse me, did you say you received a letter from his employer?
MACAVOY:
Yes.
JENSEN:
Now, why on Earth would Truman’s boss contact you?
MACAVOY:
He is an old friend.
JENSEN:
Do the two of you keep in touch?
MACAVOY:
No, not very often.
JENSEN:
Do you have the letter with you?
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MACAVOY:
No. I threw it out.
JENSEN:
That’s a shame.
GORHAM:
Would you care to describe your relationship with Truman’s employer?
MACAVOY:
I suppose so, if you must know. We were friends. I met him back in my twenties, when I would visit my brothers at their college.
GORHAM:
UK?
MACAVOY:
No, they went to the Southern Baptist Seminary in Louisville.
GORHAM:
Preachers?
MACAVOY:
One is, Earl, but Clifford was a music director.
GORHAM:
I see. Well...this guy–what’s his name?
MACAVOY:
Rodney.
GORHAM:
Was he going to school there as well?
MACAVOY:
Yes.
GORHAM:
Were the two of you ever intimate?
MACAVOY:
Excuse me? I’d rather not say if you don’t mind.
GORHAM:
Fine, fine. I suppose that’s not really important.
MACAVOY:
It certainly is not.
GORHAM:
Alright. You’re absolutely sure you haven’t heard from Truman?
MACAVOY:
Of course.
GORHAM:
Not a word?
MACAVOY:
No. Not a single, solitary word.
GORHAM:
And don’t you find that strange?
MACAVOY:
Of course I do. It keeps me up at night. I am his mother, after all.
GORHAM:
Would you say that it’s usual behavior for him to disappear like this? Has it happened before?
MACAVOY:
No, it hasn’t happened before. This kind of behavior is certainly not in his nature. I raised Truman to be a very well-mannered boy. And we’ve always kept in very close contact, no matter where he lived. Yes, I’d say this is very strange of him.
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GORHAM:
We happen to know that Truman underwent some psychiatric evaluation when he was living in Chicago. What can you tell us about that?
MACAVOY:
Oh, goodness, not that business again.
JENSEN:
Did you know that he was taken in by the police?
MACAVOY:
He was taken in for questioning. He stopped an awful man from beating up on some poor young woman. The police wanted to know if he had any incriminating information. They’d been building a case on that awful man, for soliciting women. It’s absolutely horrible what he was doing up there.
GORHAM:
Maybe. Maybe. But you know, I’ve read the police report for that case, and it says that Truman practically brutalized this guy. It says he was beating on him with the leg of a chair, long after the prostitute had run off. He didn’t stop until someone living in the apartment building came out and pulled him away.
MACAVOY:
Well, that’s ridiculous. Truman wouldn’t do a thing like that, not my boy. There must’ve been some kind of misunderstanding.
GORHAM:
Ma’am, I saw some pictures. I saw what Truman did to this guy. He practically carved him a new face. It looks like something you’d find in a homicide case.
MACAVOY:
No. I simply don’t believe it. Not my Truman. I know my son and that’s not him at all.
GORHAM:
If you say so, Mrs. MacAvoy.
MACAVOY:
And do you mind me asking, why on earth are you asking me these questions? Shouldn’t you be out looking for Truman? He could have been kidnapped or murdered, and you’re here asking me these silly little questions. I just don’t understand what it has to do with anything.
JENSEN:
We’re not here because your son went missing, Ma’am.
MACAVOY: JENSEN:
I don’t understand. We’re here to investigate the disappearance of a young woman, Mae Delacroix. Are you familiar with that name?
MACAVOY:
Disappearance? Well, where has she gone to?
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JENSEN: MACAVOY:
That’s what we’re trying to figure out, (inaudible) How long has she been gone for?
GORHAM:
We’re not at liberty to discuss that quite yet, Ma’am
MACAVOY:
My, that’s terrible. Absolutely terrible.
GORHAM:
Yes, it is.
MACAVOY:
But I don’t understand what this has to do with Truman. Why are you asking questions about Truman if you’re looking for Mae?
JENSEN:
Ma’am, we have reason to believe that your son may have kidnapped Miss Delacroix.
MACAVOY:
What? Truman? That’s ridiculous! How could you say such a thing? My Truman would never do a thing like that!
GORHAM:
Can you describe your son’s relationship with Mae?
MACAVOY:
Absolutely not. I don’t know. They were schoolmates. How could you say such a thing? How dare you?
GORHAM:
We found what? A couple hundred letters?
JENSEN:
Yeah, I’d say so.
GORHAM:
A few hundred letters from Truman in Miss. Eller’s room. They go all the way back to the mid 20s. He sure had a lot to say to her. He asks her to move to Chicago with him, and New York, too. He says that he’s in love with her, over and over again, in just about every single one.
MACAVOY:
Well, maybe he is. Maybe he is in love with her, so what?
GORHAM:
Did he ever talk to you about this?
MACAVOY:
No, he didn’t. This is all news to me.
GORHAM:
He never mentioned her to you? Not even casually?
MACAVOY:
I think you have the wrong idea about Truman. He really is a very well-mannered boy. He wouldn’t hurt a soul. And if he says he loves this girl, then he’s the last person you ought to be worried about. We’ve always taught our kids that they should never hurt the ones that they love. And I know he wouldn’t. Truman is a very good boy.
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JENSEN:
What about the people they don’t love?
MACAVOY:
Gentlemen, I’m afraid I don’t have anything to offer you. I simply do not know where Truman could be. I hope you find that May girl soon, but I assure you he’s got nothing to do with it. I’m sorry that I couldn’t be more help, but if you’ll please, I’ve got to get dinner started before the boys get home.
GORHAM:
Very well. I’m sorry to disturb you. I’m sure we’ll get to the bottom of this very soon. And I sure hope you’re right. But listen, if you think of anything, go ahead and give us a call, alright? Here’s my card.
MACAVOY:
I sure will. Good night, gentlemen.
GORHAM:
Good night.
JENSEN:
Good night, ma’am. Oh, and, between you and me, (inaudible).
GORHAM:
How do we shut this thing off, Detective?
JENSEN:
That switch.
GORHAM:
Which switch?
JENSEN:
That one, right there. No, the other–
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PARK SLOPE, NY MUDER INVESTIGATION associated press news article
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MAE DELACRIOX’S letter
to TRUMAN MacAVOY
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The
story of this letter is unique
in comparison to my other findings.
It was sent to me in a letter by RobertEarle Rathburn, the childhood friend of Truman. It arrived seven weeks after the first letter he sent to me, which was a rejection of my interview request1. In it he states, “It’s not right for men to make spectacles out of others’ suffering. I’ll have no part of any record where you academics paint a good man like Truman as some kind of violent tramp.” In his second letter, which contained the letters from Mae, Charles Dawson & Thatcher Crawford-Mews, RobertEarle had this to say: “Truman came by one night, look-
ing haggard. He asked me to hide him in the attic for a couple of days. He said not to ask why, & not to bother him, so I didn’t. Me & Tru’d had our fun when we were younger, so I just thought he was up to his usual antics. But when word got round that Mae’d disappeared, I checked the attic out. Sure enough, he was gone, & I found these letters beneath a stack of books. I had no idea he’d gotten so strange. I know Truman is a good man at heart. But I think his heart’d grown sick after a while.” It’s important to note that the markings Truman made on Mae’s letter were done with a red pen. ~ HARDESTY DROSS, Ph.D.
Strangely enough, not one soul in the Yancey, Kentucky community honored my request for an interview on the subject of Truman MacAvoy. Even the country registrar denied any record of him.
1
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CHICAGO PASSAVANT MEMORIAL HOSPITAL discharge summary
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VALENCIA COUNTY, NM marraige license
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HARLAN COUNTY POLICE DEPARTMENT interview transcript
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TRANSCRIPTION. Investigative Sgt. Dave Gorham #4619 & Detective Noel Jensen Harlan County Police Department intert 1119. Interview of Palmarie MacAvoy. Case # 03-8744 JENSEN:
Is she ready?
GORHAM:
Are you ready, Mrs. MacAvoy?
MACAVOY:
Of course I’m ready.
GORHAM:
She’s ready, Detective.
JENSEN:
Alright, let’s get started then. Sgt.?
GORHAM:
Are you comfortable, Mrs. MacAvoy?
MACAVOY:
I’m decent.
GORHAM:
Do you want something to drink?
MACAVOY:
No, I’m quite alright.
GORHAM:
Are you sure? There’s fresh coffee just right outside.
MACAVOY:
No, thank you. Coffee gives me a stomachache
JENSEN:
Do you want something more sour, Mrs. MacAvoy?
MACAVOY:
Whiskey?
GORHAM:
Note that Detective Jensen has handed a flask of to the person in
question.
JENSEN:
How’s that?
MACAVOY:
It’s decent.
GORHAM:
Alright, Mrs. MacAvoy. Let me remind you that this recording
will serve as your confession. It can be used against you in a court of law.
MACAVOY:
Yes, I know.
GORHAM:
So why don’t we start with what you told me over the phone?
MACAVOY:
Okay. (PM clears throat) What I told you over the phone is…
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GORHAM:
Yes?
MACAVOY:
Well, I seem to recall telling you that I’d killed Mae Delacroix.
GORHAM:
And did you?
MACAVOY:
Yes, I did.
GORHAM:
You killed her?
MACAVOY:
Yes.
GORHAM:
Alright, if you say so. I have to admit, though, I can’t see the motive.
MACAVOY:
Motive?
GORHAM:
Why did you do it?
MACAVOY:
Because I’m a mother, I suppose. I have a very protective instinct.
GORHAM:
You were protecting Truman?
MACAVOY:
Yes.
GORHAM:
What were you protecting him from?
MACAVOY:
From bad girls.
JENSEN:
What do you mean? How was Mae bad?
MACAVOY:
She was bad for Truman. She led him on for years, and caused him all kinds of stress. If you ask me, she’s what made him lose his hat in Chicago. He’s been heartbroken for years, you know. It probably wasn’t going to stop, so I stopped it.
JENSEN:
Don’t you think he’ll be sad when he finds out that she’s dead?
MACAVOY:
He can get over that. He won’t have any hope, so he’ll get over it.
JENSEN:
That seems like a very cruel way to protect someone.
MACAVOY:
Love has lots of different looks. It’s like the weather.
GORHAM:
Alright. Lets’ talk about the body, why don’t we?
MACAVOY:
What body?
GORHAM:
Mae’s. The person you killed. Where is it?
MACAVOY:
What do you want her body for? She’s dead.
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GORHAM:
We’re going to need a body if we’re going to put you on trial. No body, no conviction.
MACAVOY:
Well, you can’t have it.
GORHAM:
What do you mean? You confess, but you won’t give us a body?
MACAVOY:
It’s gone. I fed her to the pigs.
JENSEN:
Pigs?
MACAVOY:
Yes. That’s what we do when our horses die. We feed their bod-
ies to the pigs. So that’s what I did with Mae. They ate her up.
GORHAM:
Okay, fine. Murder weapon. How did you kill her?
MACAVOY:
She came by to ask about Truman, about three weeks ago. It was in the middle of the day; the boys were still working on rebuilding the mine. So I invited her in to talk. I sat her down in the liv- ing room and put on some tea. Then I went back in and swung a skillet at the back of her head, as hard as I could. That girl is mousey—she probably hasn’t worked a day in her life—it killed her that quick.
GORHAM:
So that’s it?
MACAVOY:
That’s it.
GORHAM:
You really killed Mae Delacroix?
MACAVOY:
I did.
GORHAM:
I guess I’m having a hard time believing this whole thing. It just doesn’t sit right to me. When we talked to you earlier, you had a whole different story. You said that you barely even knew who Mae was. What was happening then?
MACAVOY:
I was trying to protect myself, of course.
GORHAM:
Then what made you change your mind?
MACAVOY:
Well, I didn’t know that Truman was your suspect. It’s more important that I protect Truman than me. Like I said, I’ve got that instinct.
GORHAM:
That’s exactly it. I just think you’re protecting him in a different way.
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MACAVOY:
What do you mean?
GORHAM:
I guess this just feels like a cover.
MACAVOY:
Why?
GORHAM:
Well, for one thing, we still don’t know where Truman is. Maybe I’d feel better about it if I could sit down and have a chat with him. I mean, if he didn’t do it, then what does he have to hide from?
MACAVOY:
Truman is a very confused boy. He’s sweet, but very confused. When he gets himself worked up like this, the whole world could be crashing down around him and all he’ll see is that girl. I don’t know where he is. He could be in Budapest for all I know. He’s probably just trying to deal with his personal problems.
GORHAM:
Fine, Mrs. MacAvoy. I’m not convinced, but you’ve confessed. We’ll let the law decide what’s true.
MACAVOY:
Very well.
GORHAM:
Shut that thing off, Jensen.
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TRUMAN MacAVOY’S letter
to PALMARIE MacAVOY
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AFTERWORD
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The final document of this chronoin which Truman severs all ties with his mother, is the last known record of his existence. The same goes for Mae Delacroix. In the spring of 1934, a popular blues song began to appear on the local airwaves from Lexington to Louisville. “O, When Will Mayday Come?” by Old Whiney Johnson begged the question, “Did they go out to sea? / Did they tour the Italy? / O, when will Mayday come?” logue,
Following the lead provided by Truman & Mae’s wedding license, I went to Valencia County, New Mexico. I interviewed Wesley Garnet, the peevish old notary who authenticated their marriage, & its two witnesses. None provided me with any leads. The investigation was largely unsuccessful. I promise, if I’d ever met Truman MacAvoy, that our exchange would
not appear in this chronologue, or any to chronologue follow. I have no interest in exploiting him, after all. I only need to see his face. I need to know if it’s my face. However, there is a moment in my life, which I remain uncertain of indefinitely. As I rode the train from New Mexico back to Massachusetts, I stepped out for a breath in the Oklahoma City station. A man appeared before me, with the exact desperate glow I always knew Truman to contain. It was him, it certainly was. Like the poetry of Ezra Pound: “The apparition of these faces in the crowd; /Petals on a wet, black bough.” I approached, & tapped him on the shoulder. “Truman?” He turned to me. ~ HARDESTY DROSS, Ph.D.