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(Editor's Note: This is the second in a two-part series. Before you read this, you may want to read: MURDER TOUR ONE -- Eight Slain In Iowa Ax Massacre, Killer Was Never Found.)
We left Villisca where eight had been killed with an ax in 1912 and drove south to Skidmore, a Missouri town of 350 where the "town bully" had been gunned down by two or three shooters while at least two dozen people watched. To this day neither crime has been solved.
In Villisca they worked hard to solve the crime, and failed; in Skidmore they worked hard to protect the killers, and succeeded. Even FBI agents could not break the wall of silence. How can an entire town keep a secret this big for more than two decades? That's what intrigued us.
As my friend and I approached Skidmore, we discussed the unlikely possibility that even one person could keep a secret this big, let alone an entire community.
The bully's name was Ken Rex McElroy. A movie, a book and countless TV shows and newspaper articles have told his story. He was a thief, arsonist, rapist and intimidator, who believed that "if there is no witness there is no crime". He was charged with more than 20 felonies, over the years, but was convicted only once, and, in fact, was out on bail awaiting sentencing on that conviction when he was murdered in broad daylight.
When McElroy was a teenager, a farmer confronted him for trespassing on the farmer's land. McElroy, on horseback, said nothing, but glared at the farmer until he backed down. McElroy converted his first car to a truck by removing the back seat so he could haul stolen pigs and grain.
The definitive resource on Skidmore is Harry MacLean's book, "In Broad Daylight" (now out of print), which details McElroy's life and reveals a wealth of information considering how tight-lipped the residents of Skidmore are reported to be. After all, the statute of limitations never expires on murder so Skidmore still can't afford to talk.
McElroy, by MacLean's account, raped several under-aged girls, had perhaps fifteen children, brutalized both physically and mentally the females who lived with him or married him. Drove heavy-duty pickup trucks to pull trailers used to steal cattle and hogs. He burned buildings owned by potential witnesses. He shot two men. He put a rattlesnake in a mailbox.
His favorite terror tactic was to parade through town with three trucks. He drove the lead vehicle and his two live-in women/wives followed. They parked in front of their victim's home, got out with guns and stood around for long periods-sometimes firing shots over the roof.
Built like Bluto, the bully in the Popeye comic strip, McElroy was 5'10" and 230 lbs, with heavy sideburns and cold dark eyes. He wore cowboy boots with heels that made him taller. He dyed his dense hair black. His ham-thick arms bore tattoos. He had zero respect for authority or the law; one officer stopped him for a traffic violation and looked down a shotgun barrel. No charges were filed, according to MacLean.
One night he unhitched a trailer load of stolen livestock on a narrow bridge to block pursuing officers. The next morning he reported the trailer stolen, and the officers returned it to him.
If he wanted your bicycle for his child he took it from your yard, and if you witnessed the theft you had two choices: forget it, or report it and be terrorized.
Skidmore is built on a hillside that slopes to the east. An old water tower and grain elevator dominate the skyline of this economically struggling village. It was a brisk, sunny day as we entered and drove slowly through the streets. I tried to match the real locations with those I had read about. Tried to feel what it was like that hot day in 1981-visualize the crowd and the human drama that would make headlines across the world. I wondered what element of the human psyche draws people to a murder site years afterward.
Don't ask questions, several had warned us, but the reporter in me couldn't resist.
The old gentleman emerged from an ancient gas station to fill my tank.
"Did you know McElroy?" I asked.
"I sure did," he said.
"Where was he killed?"
He pointed east down the hill to a white steel building.
"It was the D & G tavern then."
"Did you have any run-ins with McElroy?"
OK, so I had been warned-I couldn't resist.
"He scared the hell out of me one night. He came to town driving a new pickup with his women following in their old trucks."
As the old man pumped my gas, he related how McElroy had driven slowly through town, circled the minister's home two or three times (McElroy hated the gun-toting Methodist minister who stood up to him). Finally, McElroy parked his truck across the street from the old man's gas station.
"He got out," the old man said. "He took a rifle and laid it on the hood. He knew I was watching. I was scared to death. Every once in a while he picked up that gun and took aim-right at the grocery store. I thought he might shoot someone, and then shoot the witness-that would be me."
After half an hour McElroy entered his truck, circled the minister's home again and left town, the old man said.
"I was petrified. He was a bad one." he said. "I hauled gas out to his house several times, but only when McElroy's dad ordered it and then escorted me out. His dad told me never to go out there by myself."
"Do you know who shot McElroy?"
The old man was mute. But his smile said, "That is a really stupid question, stranger".
I thanked him and we drove down the hill to the tavern.
A sign on the front says, "Skidmore Food & Drink. Cold Beer -- Home Cookin'".
Four burly farmers were seated at a table, but soon left. A pencil-thin waitress appeared.
She gave my questions a cool reception.
"That's died down now," she said. "What can I get you to drink?"
We had a cold drink and then drove to where McElroy had lived, some five minutes away on narrow, hilly gravel roads. The house had burned mysteriously shortly after the murder, but some ramshackle buildings remain.
McElroy's fatal mistake occurred when he picked a fight with Bo Bowenkamp, the town's beloved grocer. It grew from a minor incident involving McElroy's children and some candy, escalated into weeks of terror for the Bowenkamps and resulted in McElroy shooting the elderly grocer with a shotgun.
The horsehide tough Bowenkamp survived the shooting and testified at a trial which resulted in McElroy's conviction. McElroy, free on bail awaiting sentencing, bragged he would kill Bowenkamp.
On July 10, 1981, as some 60 men met at the town hall to discuss McElroy, the town bully himself, and his wife Trena, perhaps in a show of defiance, entered the Tavern. Word spread, and soon the tavern grew crowded.
McElroy sat for several minutes, then bought a six-pack and some Rolaids and walked to his truck through the crowd. He started the engine, guns fired (perhaps as many as three) and in his death throws McElroy mashed the accelerator causing the motor to roar for several moments until it seized up and stopped. Then there was silence in Skidmore.
And that to me is the truly astonishing element of this story-how an entire town can keep a secret that big.
Be sure to read MURDER TOUR ONE -- Eight Slain In Iowa Ax Massacre, Killer Was Never Found. It is elsewhere in the Search Warp site and is also by Marty RicKard
Marty RicKard Bio
Marty RicKard attended William Penn College , Iowa State University and University of Southern Mississippi , from which he holds a BS degree in journalism and photojournalism. He also has a Masters Degree in photography, in addition to the Craftsman, CPP, and A-ASP degrees. Marty spent two years as a technical writer for White Motor Company, and has worked for the Charles City Press, Mason City Globe-Gazette, and Davenport Times-Democrat. He was co-owner of the weekly New Sharon Star, where he was twice named Iowa Master Columnist for his article, which was syndicated in twenty Iowa newspapers. For more than a decade Marty's regular column appeared in the Professional Photographer magazine. He has been published in many other magazines and newspapers, including Writer's Digest, Writer Advice, Golf Digest, Resource Magazine, Picture, Range Finder, and Darkroom. In addition to his writing credits, Marty has won numerous photography awards, has lectured in 48 states, and has traveled internationally as lecturer, and judge. He was one of thirty from the U.S. to participate in the first cultural exchange with China in 1986. He currently is a regular columnist for Lens Magazine, and a full-time writer of fiction and poetry. He is the author of two poetry books and one volume of short stories. He is an entertaining speaker.
It is amazing to me to read about whole towns being afraid of one ugly man. Your articles sound like they would make good suspense movies if they haven't already. God bless you always.
» left by Marty RicKard(2,885) Marty RicKard (63 days 3 hours ago.)
Dear Michelle: Thanks for your comments. I am a member of your fan club. Actually, this story gained worldwide notoriety when it happened, was the subject of a book, movie and several TV docu-dramas. Even today, the town still refuses to tell. It's amazing. Best to you, Marty RicKard
Glad to hear you joined my fan club. I enjoyed your article about Villisca IA. I visited Villisca about two years ago and viewed the house where the killings took place. I have also viewed the video story about the massacre.
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