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| Chapter 6- Spadework |
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| Connecting the dots continued as I tried to separate fact from fiction. The inaccuracies were discouraging, but most seemed correctable. The short magazine and newspaper articles were the worst offenders, probably reflecting their authors` deadline pressures. Dates didn`t agree, addresses were inconsistent, case details varied, and people's names were spelled different ways in different sources. |
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| I was beginning to understand why no one had written a biography of Ellis Parker before. He had left few records, and had directed that most of his files be destroyed upon his death. No one directly associated with him wrote memoirs or even magazine articles as near as I could tell. For a man whom was so well known during his lifetime he certainly had sunk into obscurity afterwards. It was starting to look as if the only way to get some of the answers was to hold a seance. One thing was certain, it was dangerous to accept anything from only one source. |
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| In the accounts of the trial I read in the Courier-Journal clippings, there were several tantalizing references to something called the Rancocas Rumrunning scandal, along with hints that Ellis Parker had been suspended as a result. Rancocas Creek runs into Burlington County from the Delaware River, but did bootleggers really run booze there? And just what was the scandal exactly? The Internet had nothing to say about it, but I made a note that this was one more question I had to resolve somehow. It sounded as if it was during Prohibition, so that narrowed it down to 1920-1933; still a big chunk of time in which to find something. |
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| In 1986, HBO produced a movie about the case called The Crime of the Century. I rented a copy to see if it said anything about Ellis Parker. The movie opened with sinister nighttime scenes showing two men kidnapping the Lindbergh baby. Since in real life only one man was arrested and tried for the crime, I could see where the movie was going. In the next scene, police and reporters swarmed over the Lindbergh house examining the evidence. The white painted stone Lindbergh house we had seen first hand was shown in the movie as red brick. The real life double hung window we had seen was shown as a casement window that opened inward. The real life kidnap ladder had been found on the ground; the movie ladder was shown standing against the wall. The real life ladder had split along its upper side rails; the movie ladder had a broken lower rung. To be fair, however, they did get the name of the state right. |
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| "I suppose this is all poetic license?" Barbara asked. |
| "If that's poetic license, it should be revoked." |
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| Bruno Hauptmann and his wife were shown as innocent, almost saint-like figures, badly used by a corrupt and uncaring world. I was beginning to wonder what they would do to Ellis Parker. |
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| I soon found out. Ellis Parker, who was short, stocky and bald was depicted in the movie as tall, thin, and sporting a thick head of hair. He was also shown as being sloppy and rumpled. At least they got that part right. In the movie, Parker was shown reluctantly investigating at the governor's request, even though in real life Parker had done most of the persuading. No mention was made of Parker's suspect or the trouble Parker got into. He was merely a bit player in the movie. |
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| "Well, that was two hours of my life I'd like to have back," I said when the movie was over. |
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| By now I had pieced together a basic outline of Ellis Parker's life, but there were a lot of gaps, especially the years prior to 1900. The picture of Ellis Parker that was emerging was as contradictory as the materials. Was he a martyred idealist or a cynical self promoter who tried to frame an innocent man? It all depended on who was telling the story. Was he the only one who correctly solved the case or was he chasing the wrong man all along? Again, it all depended on what account you read. According to Scapegoat, in fact, a Mt. Holly man had spent 20 years working on a book about Parker and the Lindbergh case determined to prove Parker was right. But he never finished the book as near as I could tell. There was always another piece of evidence he needed. Such books usually stand the scientific method on its head by starting with a conclusion then seeking evidence to support it. I was determined to keep an open mind and see what the record and the evidence showed. At least I'd be able to finish the book. |
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| I was also discovering there was a significant subculture of Lindbergh buffs. Several websites dealt with the case, as did several lively Internet discussion forums where people constantly examined the case and argued about the evidence. If a man from Mars appeared and didn't know about the case, he could easily get the impression it had happened yesterday and that the trial was still going on. Cognoscenti on these sites endlessly argued about arcane points of the record and put forth their own theories in discussions that sometimes became heated and personal. Even here the varying views of Ellis Parker were apparent, with some calling him a saint and some a sinner. I considered posting to one of these groups to see what information they could provide, but decided to wait until I was further along. |
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| In spite of my growing research material, I had found very few original source documents about Parker's involvement in the Lindbergh case and his subsequent trial. Almost everything I had so far was from magazine articles and other books. I was hoping the state police archives would provide the first hand original documents I needed. Then there was the matter of that elusive confession. Where was it? According to Scapegoat, Ellis Parker's papers had been burned after his death. Was the confession among them? |
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| Once I had digested my research, I began to plan my next trip to New Jersey. This time I would start with the archives at the state police museum. The archivist would be available and said he'd be glad to help me. |
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| I contacted the ex detective chief and he agreed to meet me, as did the lawyer whose father testified at the trial. The director of the Prison Museum said he had not been able to get the county executive to crack the safe yet, but would keep trying. Finally, I contacted the people who lived at Garden Street to arrange a long look at the newspapers I had seen briefly last time. To my surprise, they said I could take them with me to review at my leisure. |
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| "But how do you know I'll bring them back?" I asked, amazed that they would trust any stranger, let alone me. |
| "Well, if you do, you do, and if you don't you don't came the reply. I've already shown them to everyone who had any interest around here anyway." |
| As soon as I hung up I yelled to Barbara. |
| "Pack your bags; we're going back to New Jersey!" |
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| What is in Ellis Parker's old newspapers? |
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| What secrets are buried in the archives of the New Jersey State Police Museum? |
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| And where is that confession? |
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| Don't miss Chapter 7- |
| Carry Me Back to Old New Jersey |
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