Note: In October, 2001, Steve and I had the pleasure of meeting Gerald Hughes. As we were leaving, he gave us this story.

A personal remembrance of William Messamore

By Gerald Hughes

Editor's note: Fifty years after the disappearance of Tom and Beatrice Vandiveer and Wanda Johnson, from a Mifflin farm, William Messamore remains the chief suspect as he was from the first. Yet, no one then or since has been able to prove anything. No charges concerning the Vandiveer's were ever filed. Recently, some studying the case wonder if Messamore may have been implicated falsely because of his eccentric ways. Gerald Hughes, a former neighbor, does not think so. "They never knew the mystery man," said Hughes. "I knew him and there is no doubt in my mind." This is Hughes's story, including his theory, one of several advanced as the case hit the half-century mark.

No circle driveway. No business suits. No bottomless caves.

These are three myths that have sprung up over the half-century since the Thomas Vandiveer family disappeared from rural Crawford County, with the late William D. Messamore, the chief suspect in their disappearance.

There have been many stories written over the past 50 years about Messamore and the disappearance of the Vandiveer family. Most have been only partially true.

I was 15 years old when Bill Messamore made his appearance in the Mifflin area. My family lived within a half mile of the Messamore home; we were his closest neighbor. I never knew exactly when he came to our area. It just seemed like we woke up one day and he had moved to Crawford county. And we had a new neighbor.

Did we trust him? I don't think we had any idea he had been in trouble with the law. So, yes, I'd say we probably saw no reason not to believe he was going to be an OK neighbor. However, it seems my mother, Nellie Hughes, now 84, always felt a bit suspicious of him.

Some have referred to his circle driveway; he never had a circle driveway. In fact, he never had a driveway. The people - Jim Mose Brown family - who owned this property before Messamore traveled in a wagon pulled by horses. They didn't need a driveway. The road in front of the house was an old dirt road that turned very muddy when it rained. There was a fence around the house plus lots of trees. And no room for a driveway.

When Bill did take his vehicle home, he parked it either in, or alongside, the dirt road. The only road went past my parents' home and eventually came out close to the Matty Pavey farm.

Probably half the time Bill would drive to the bottom of a large hill, close to our house, park and walk to his home. He never drove late model cars, as has been reported. When I first saw him he had a 1930 or maybe 31 Model A Ford.

He would arrive in that old Ford at all hours. Sometimes we'd see him drive up during the day; other times he would arrive late at night and we'd see his car when we got up the next morning.

He always parked at the same location, just off the side of the road and would always leave his vehicle headed up the hill. He never bothered to lock it. I know for on occasion I would look inside to see what he might be hauling.

Later, Bill started driving a 1947 or 48 Hudson; It was the best car I ever saw him drive. His parking habits changed after this; he would turn the car back toward the main road and parked it within 50 feet of our front door.

Bill might be gone to the house an hour or two; maybe a day or two, but never stayed long - at least when he used this end of the road to get to his house.

Sometimes he would be alone. Other times he would have a woman with him. My mother said on several occasions, men would go up to visit with him.

About his dress. He never wore a business suit, that I saw. In fact, he was poorly dressed. One day my mother remarked that Bill looked like a bum. To which my father replied, "He probably is one."

Tom Vandiveer had lived in the Mifflin-Taswell area about all his life, except when he was in the Army.

Some time after he got out of service, he married Beatrice Johnson, of Huntingburg. She was several years older than he and had a teen-age daughter, Wanda, from a previous marriage.

They bought 20 acres of land that was part of a farm owned by Charles Belcher. There was an old long house (in very poor repair) on the properly. That was their home. They were very poor. In fact, they lived mostly on a little check Tom received from the government. I believe it was called "rocking chair money" because he didn't have to work for it.

Sometime during 1948, while they were away from home, the house burned to the ground. They lost all their possessions except a tin heating stove, a popular heating stove at the time.

After the house burned, they moved in with Bill; Wanda had already been living there for some time.

Tom and Beatrice walked in front of our home just about every day except maybe Sunday. They would be on their way to the mail box or the country store at Mifflin. They were a quiet couple; never causes anyone any trouble.

Tom was a large, stooped-shouldered man. Beatrice was tall and slender. I remember as they walked by the house, she was always 25 to 30 feet in front of him. I never did understand this.

There were stories written at the time about Wanda's beauty; they were just stories. She was not a good-looking girl. She had one very badly deformed eye and never had any nice clothes.

Now back to Bill. I never was afraid of him. In fact, I sort of like it when he would stop and talk to me. One day I was telling him of my need of a bicycle. He was quick to reply that he had a really nice one he would sell me for $10. I walked along side him. We made our way to his home talking as we went. I remember offering him $8 for the bike. He began telling me what a hard time he was having, that sometimes he was going hungry.

I remember feeling sorry for him; I don't know if I gave him $10 or he came down to the $8 I offered.

After we made our deal, he wanted to show me around his home, different things he was doing. I remember he showed me a wheelbarrow he was making. Somewhere he had gotten a steel wheel for the front. He was proud of what he had done.

Bill was a small man, and, as I think about it now, probably sneaky acting. After Wanda came to live with him, they would visit my parents from time to time. Sometimes my mother would offer them popcorn or something to snack on while they were visiting.

She said she was always glad when they left; she never did like or trust Bill.

Occasionally, they would invite Mom and Dad to visit, but I don't think they ever went. Bill was always asking Dad to let him do chores on our farm. I think he even offered to work without pay. Dad never did use him.

On Jan. 7, 1949, Tom and Beatrice passed our home on their way up the hill to Bill's house. This was the last time anyone ever saw them.

We wondered why they never passed during the next week, but we weren't concerned enough go see about them.

On Wednesday, Jan. 12, a little before dark, Bill knocked on our front door. After being invited in, he seated himself by the stove, and asked if any of us had seen the Vandiveers. He said he had been away for several days and upon his return, they were gone.

Dad's answer was, "No, we thought maybe you would know of their whereabouts."

After assuring us of his concern for them, Bill told us he was going back to Louisville to live. He said there was a lot of stuff in his house that he needed to get rid of. He wanted my father to go with him to see if he could use any of it. For no reason, Dad wouldn't go. After a while of insisting that Dad go with him, Bill said "so long" and walked out into the night.

The next day he came by on his way out and left a loaf of bread. Said he didn't need it and it would be a shame to let it go to waste. Mom threw it in the garbage before he was out of sight. She just knew it was probably poisoned or something.

On Sunday, Jan. 16, my father, an uncle, a cousin and I got to talking about the Vandiveers. We decided we'd just walk up the hill and see for ourselves if they were around. Upon arriving at the house, we looked around and noticed Bill had taken the congolium out of some of the rooms and burned it in the road a few feet - maybe 25 - from the house.

The yard was fenced but the gate was not locked and we went through it. We noticed what looked like two bullet holes through a wall in the room where we thought the Vandiveers slept.

My father noticed wheelbarrow tracks going from the yard to a steep cliff alongside the dirt road, probably 75 to 100 feel away. We could tell that something or someone had slid down over the rocks; there were leaves, small rocks that had been disturbed and small bushes dislodged.

After finding a path to the bottom of this cliff, we found wheelbarrow tracks, in fact several tracks, leading from the location at the bottom of the cliff to a large room, under large overhanging rocks.

There had been a very large, hot fire.

We had strong suspicions about what had been burned. Later, someone, maybe the sheriff, sent remains from the fire of what appeared to be charred bones to be tested. I don't believe at that time, they could tell if the bones were animal or human, they were so badly burned.

For several Sundays large crowds searched for the missing family.

Sometimes there would be 200 to 300 people. In fact, someone started selling sandwiches and soft drinks to the searchers.

One Sunday a large crowd was at the Messamore house; someone took his old phonograph and moved it, along with his records, to the front yard. Music played loudly all afternoon.

The searchers found many different things that Messamore had buried. They would see places that looked as if the ground had been dug up and check them out. They founds Wanda's pet dog that had been killed. Mostly, they found miscellaneous items, such as a glass jar or a metal lid, buried three or four feet deep.

Bill was a strange man.

There are a lot of things we will never know about this mystery that happened so close to the home of my youth.

What I believe is that Wanda died in an attempted abortion; Tom and Bernice were killed to keep them quiet. I think they were shot in the bedroom; moved to the bottom of the hill and burned. What didn't burn was disposed of, likely somewhere on the property. Maybe in a cave. Who knows? (I have been in almost every hole on this property and non of them are bottomless.)

Retired, I am living once again on the property where I lived as a young man. I walk up the hill and walk over the old Messamore property three or four times a month. I guess I'm still searching, hoping something will turn up that would solve the mystery.

Bill made one last trip to our home to ask if the sheriff and others had broken into his home. Mom told him yes, they had. He became very angry but left without using the gun he was carrying in plain view.

A note was found in a book at the Messamore home, scribbled in Bill's handwriting: "Plan what you are going to do carefully. Do it quickly."

For what it is worth, I think that is just what he did.