Gypsies – Alan E. Hunter

PART I

**Original publish date: November 5, 20**20

I’ve spent the past month talking about the past. Relics from the past. Some good. Some bad. One of those relics has an unusually ancient sounding name: The National Horse Thief Detective Association. Sounds like something from an old B-western movie right? Visions of Roy Rogers and Gene Autry on horseback riding hell bent for leather immediately gallop through our minds. Truth is, the NHTDA is not as ancient as you might think. And of course, it has ties to Irvington.
The National Horse Thief Detective Association was sort of a nineteenth-century rural neighborhood crime watch, aimed not only at prevention but also apprehension and the execution of justice. And it wasn’t just looking for horse thieves. The NHTDA was as much a civic organization as a law enforcement agency — largely composed of white, property owning men wealthy enough to pay the dues. The NHTDA was well organized. It had branches (or companies) in 92 counties of Indiana. Delegates attended annual regional meetings to swap stories, catch up on NHTDA news and share the latest law enforcement techniques.

According to the Indiana Historical Society, the horse thief detectives were Hoosier-based from the beginning, with the first official company, the Council Grove Minute Men, formed in 1845 near Wingate, Ind. In the 1840s, Indiana was literally a wild frontier and these companies were created to police rural areas and track down criminals where law enforcement (principally enforced by US Marshals) might be days, or weeks, away. The main focus was on horse thieves but soon expanded into tracking down any “evildoers” who brought crime to an area.
Expanded duties required expanded membership and soon companies were popping up all over the state, eventually spreading to Ohio and Illinois. The NHTDA itself was founded in 1860 as an umbrella group to organize the hundreds of individual detective companies among the three states. The Hoosier countryside was riddled with bandits, outlaws and horse thieves who preyed on the people living and farming in rural communities with little established law enforcement. Stealing horses, which were crucial for farming and transportation of people and goods before the arrival of the railroad and the automobile, was crucial to survival on the frontier. Many times, these thieves were better organized than the residents themselves.

These bands of marauding bandits, rustlers and gypsies were sophisticated, with established “stations” where stolen horses could be stashed to rest during the day and moved to the next station by cover of night. These horses stolen from Indiana, Michigan, Ohio and Illinois were transported to Iowa, Kansas and Nebraska, where they were quickly sold. To combat these professional horse thieves, during the 1850s, Hoosier lawmakers passed legislation officially appointing association members as constables, granting them the authority to arrest and jail criminals and recover stolen goods. This legislation allowed them to cross county lines to track and apprehend thieves – something county sheriff’s couldn’t do.
Horses and livestock were one of the most vital resources a pioneering family had in those days of early westward expansion. Without horses travel was slow, plowing impossible and getting perishable goods to market a hopeless proposition. Horse thievery in antebellum Indiana resulted in crops being abandoned and farms being lost. Indiana winters are harsh and a stolen horse was no laughing matter. Failure to locate and prosecute horse thieves by US Marshals and local law enforcement often led to vigilante justice.

In most cases, horse thieves were transient and almost impossible to locate having crossed state lines in the blink of an eye. Brands were disguised, herds were split and mixed, and apprehension, let alone prosecution, was rare. However the operators of the safehouse stations were locals and word soon circulated that some neighbors were being paid by the gangs for tips on who had the fattest, fittest herds that could be easily stolen. To make matters worse, due to the sparse rural population, these operations were conducted quite brazenly during the day. It was this environment of widespread horse thievery that led to the first horse thief detective agencies being founded in Indiana.
The citizenry’s earliest attempt to tame the wild regions of rural Indiana were called the “Minute Men.” According to an association pamphlet, that membership included “only the best men in the community” and represented all the “vocations in pioneer life.” There were secret passwords and signs, and strict standards of behavior; Any member who played cards, gambled, or “used liquor to excess” was expelled. A registered member paid dues and became a constable with police powers. Operational enforcement was pretty straight forward.

If a horse was suspected as stolen (and not just a stray) the owner would go to a neighbor and ask them to notify the local association, passing along identifying information about the stolen horse (color, breed, type of shoe, height, etc.). Then, association members would call in other members who would ride immediately to a designated secret meeting place nearby. Once organized, the duly notarized constables would fan out individually, inquiring at toll booths, homes, farms, and stores in an effort to track the culprits down. The more people they notified, the more likely a horse could be found before the trail ran cold.
National Horse Thief Detective Association ledgers digitized and found on the internet, libraries and various private collections detail the lengths to which a particular chapter would go to retrieve a stolen horse. The October 1867 Warren Township HTDA Ledger, which included the Irvington area, reports of HTDA agents hunting for the horse of Mr. George White, who resided just off Brookville Road, east of Arlington Avenue.

The October 6, 1867 ledger entry reports: At 7:00 a.m. Leander White notified me that his father’s bay horse had been stolen the night before. I proceeded immediately to select men to hunt said horse. I selected 10 men to meet at George White’s house as soon as they could get there by 9:00 p.m. The men reported ready as soon as I could get a description of the horse and the direction he had started. I started 4 men to Indianapolis and Wilson, George Butcher, Henry Wilberg and Alonzo Snider to inquire at the toll gates and see if they could find any track in that dirt road. I went with the others to the National Road and there we found by the track, that he had crossed the road and went south towards McClain’s Gate; not finding any track where he had come back. I was satisfied that he had gone in a southern direction. I then sent Mr. McClain and Mr. White to Indianapolis to search the gates south and I went with the rest of the men Hiram Morehouse, John Wagoner, Conrad Reah; Thomas Cammel and Chris Wilder to the Brookville Road and started 2 men on that road and 2 south to go in a southern direction and Thomas Cammel to go on the Lawrenceburg Road and to get Jacob M. Springer to go with him. I then went to Indianapolis to meet the other men and did meet them at 12:00. M. Lonzo Snider reported that he had seen a horse pass where he had camped near Cumberland that morning about daylight that suited the description of the one he was hunting. I then sent Alfred Wilson and George Butcher east on the National Road and Lonzo Snider and Henry Wilberg south on the Bluff Road. McClain and White came home. I gave out word for the company to meet at the town house the next evening at 5:00 and ordered all the men that went to hunt to return by the next night if they got no track and if they got track, to keep on and not come back as long as there was any chance of getting him. Company met Monday evening; no word from the men exception Morehouse and his partner. They reported no track. Meeting approved for next morning at 7:00 a.m.
Oct 8, 1867: Company met all the men had returned. Cammel Springer reported. Heard of the horse at Shelbyville. Followed the tracks a few miles lost it; and could not find the track any more. Company agreed to send 6 men back to hunt said horse and called on me to select the men. I did select 6 men: Alfred Wilson, John Wagoner, Hiram Morehouse, Thomas Cammel, John Shearer, and Conrad Rahl to start immediately and if they made any discoveries, they were telegraph to George Parker. On Thursday we received a dispatch from Morehouse; they had heard of the horse. Friday evening, company met and the men all reporting no further track could be found. Company agreed to send 12 men to hunt said horse and ordered me to select the men. I did select Daniel Sharer, George Askren, Henry Wilberg, Isaac Wheatley, John Buchanon, Henry Jorger, Peter Kissel, Fred Brady, Conrad Gemmer, David Springer, Gorden Shimer, and Chris Raseno to meet at the townhouse Saturday morning at 7:00 a.m. Company met Sat morning; the men all reporting for duty. On motion, it was agreed to send one man by rail to the Ohio River to examine the ferries and towns along the river between Lawrenceberg and Vevey. On motion of A. Parker, it was agreed to send the Captain. I did start the same evening at 6:00 (the first train I could get on) went to Lawrenceberg. From there, walked to Aurora thence by boat to the bay making thorough inquiries at all towns and ferries. I then went back to Aurora and took the train to Osgood thence to Versailes by hack. Soon after I got to Versailes, William Wheatly, Conrad Grammer and Peter Kissel came into the Versailes and reported no track found by them and that 7 of the company had started that morning to Lawrenceberg together. After dinner I took William Wheatly and Peter Kissel and hired a man by the name of Stevens to go along. We left Gemmer at the hotel and I road his horse. We went about 4 miles from Versailes to a place noted as a horse thief harbor, it is in the hills and about 5 or 6 miles square we rode in and thru those hills and hollows but made no discoveries. We returned to Versailes that night. Shortly after we got back George Askren and John Buchanon came in and reported no track of horse found by them.

Although the culprit (or culprits) were never found or prosecuted, this particular case shows the lengths that the HTDA in Indianapolis would go to solve a case. Apparently, even though this caper almost bankrupted the group, similar associations continued to be formed throughout the city, eventually resulting in 16 chapters in Marion County alone. Eventually, the National Horse Thief Detective Association was formed to bring them all together. State laws were passed giving NHTDA members authority to arrest and detain, granting members extraordinary policing powers. While sheriffs and deputies could not cross county lines to apprehend lawbreakers, NHTDA deputies could. Justice was swift and often judgement was enforced at the end of a rope.
In time, chapters broadened their jurisdiction to include not only horses but also carriages, cows, poultry and other livestock. By the turn of the 21st Century, NHTDA were primarily tasked with looking for car thieves, home invaders… and people. It was the twisting of that last pursuit that would see the demise of the National Horse Thief Detective Association.

Criminals, Ghosts

Gypsy Ghosts in Terry Hot. (Terre Haute, Indiana)

May 18, 2018June 19, 2018 Alan E. Hunter- Irvington

Original publish date: March 20, 2014

z timthumb When you hear the term “Gypsy”, what comes to mind? A vagabond road wanderer? A classic motorcycle? Maybe a Sonny and Cher song? Well, let me share with you a real gypsy story from a century ago that happened just up the National Road in Terre Haute. On May 16, 1914 three bodies were interred in “Terry Hot’s” Highland Lawn cemetery. According to newspaper accounts of the day, at the burial site “strange balls of incense” were placed around the graves. As the caskets were slowly lowered into the ground, veiled women wailed, tore at their clothing and pounded their chests. Their grief cut through the thick sickly sweet smoke hovering over the graves like a switchblade. When the graves were closed wine bottles were opened and their contents pored atop each grave in the shape of a cross.
Socca Demetro, her father Bob Riska and son-in-law Joe Riska were gone. The trio had been part of a group of about thirty Gypsies who had traveled north from their winter quarters in Kentucky to set up camp on the outskirts of West Terre Haute, arriving on May 1st, 1914 . They parked their wagons and pitched their tents along Paris Avenue, an area that 100 years later still carries a seedy reputation populated by strip clubs, bars, liquor stores and cheap motels. West Terre Haute was a known “friendly” stopover for Gypsy caravans and railroad hobos. The self described “King of the Hobos”, known only as “A-No1”, lauded the area in his 1911 book “Hobo Camp Fire Tales” as a place with two great “hobo jungles” and very tolerant citizens.
No small feat when you consider that back then, Gypsies were a much despised group most associated with “curses, kidnapping, thievery and general chicanery”. Stories were told of how the “filthy gypsies” would kidnap children and steal everything in sight. The gypsies encamped here sustained themselves by fortune telling, horse-trading, and selling their handmade goods to the townsfolk. It was considered high risk entertainment to brave a walk through these camps to witness the exotic women and ethnic traditions not usually found in the American heartland. Shopkeepers were eager to sell their visitors staple goods but were forever keeping a keen eye out for shoplifting connected to the Gypsy people.
z roma-children The May Day visit began like any other visit to town by the Gypsies. But Sunday May 3rd would prove to be an especially raucous day in camp. No-one knows what the Gypsies were celebrating, but celebrating they were. During the day (and through most of the night) 8 kegs of beer, wine and ale were consumed in camp. Neighbors reported the “camp was a scene of brawling and hilarity.” Eventually, most of the Gypsies passed out cold in their bunks. But in the predawn hours of Monday, one man still stalked the camp: John Demetro.
John (Pronounced Tsine in the Gypsy culture), was a large, surly man with a commanding presence. He was a 55 year-old Brazilian who listed his profession as coppersmith, and most considered him to be a leader of the band. By 5:30 AM, a drunken Demetro was convinced that his wife Socca had been unfaithful to him and he felt his in-laws were covering it up. Around 6:00 the camp was startled awake by the sound of gunshots. Panic spread through the camp after 3 dead bodies were found in the Demetro tent. Big John was not among them. Terrified clan members ran to a nearby saloon and adjacent farmhouse to report the crime. West Terre Haute police were notified and quickly responded.
z gypsy-wagon-with-hohrse Camp residents warned officers to be careful as Demetro was still stalking around the camp, most likely armed with his 16-shot Remington rifle, and was sure not to go down without a fight. Officers found him sitting in front of his tent, gun laid across his lap, staring blankly at the ground. Policemen cautiously approached, guns drawn, ready for a gunfight. But instead of resisting, Old John placidly handed over his gun and calmly surrendered. When they drew back the tent flap, they learned that Demetro had first bludgeoned, then shot, his wife to death. He then turned the gun on her father Bob Riska and shot Joe Riska in the face. Socca and Bob were DOA but Joe, despite missing half of his head, was still clinging to life. They took John to jail and Joe to the hospital were he died of his awful shotgun wound the next day.
After John was taken to jail, the Gypsy “tribe” set about the task of the burying their dead. The bodies were taken to Hickman’s funeral home and the tribe moved east of Terre Haute away from the death scene. The tribe asked for the most expensive caskets and purchased them with cash. Soon, the upscale stores in town were visited by groups of exotically attired Gypsies who purchased the best clothing available for their dead. Socca was dressed in an expensive “silk dress of brilliant colors and oriental design.” Her head was wrapped a crimson red silk scarf, her feet covered by red silk stockings and red leather slippers. Her father, Bob, wore a fine dark suit and crisp felt hat. Son-in-law Joe was dressed in a light suit, expensive Panama hat and low cut tan shoes. Both men wore silk underwear. Pipes and exotic tobacco were placed in each coffin. The bodies were covered with white silk sheets.
When a reporter attempted to ask an aged woman a few questions, she broke down, wailing between statements in broken English and murmuring Demetro’s name in a thick accent while she mimicked the signs of a hanging. In the meantime, John was arraigned in city court on May 8th, ironically the day after Congress declared Mother’s Day a National holiday and the day before President Woodrow Wilson signed it into law. After entering a plea of not guilty, he was charged with murder four days later and a September trial scheduled. It was the beginning of a two-year process.
After two continuances, the trial commenced in September of 1915. Although nearly a year and a half later, members of the tribe flooded the town for the event, most staying in a boarding house on North 4th Street. The night before the trial, police responded to the boarding house on a report noted as a “babblement” by the dispatcher. A scuffle had started in one of the rooms when a supporter of the accused bellowed that he was going to pay $300 to get Demetro out of jail. Police had to push through a crowd of curious locals to get into the house. Once inside, police drew their revolvers when they were confronted by an angry crowd of Gypsies fighting among themselves. To diffuse the situation, they hustled seven men outside to a waiting paddy wagon and off to jail. After the situation calmed down, aided by nearly every police officer in Terre Haute, all but one of the men were released.
Later, around midnight, a member of the clan walked into the station to file a complaint against boarding house owner Charles Grubb. He accused the innkeeper of stealing $ 40 from under the pillow of Demetro John’s mother. Grubb was arrested. The next day at the trial the Gypsies were searched before being allowed entry into the courtroom. The accused sat in a chair surrounded by his son and 3 nervous deputies. After much legal wrangling, the case was postponed yet again. Prosecutor “Little” Dick Wereneke argued against it, citing costs of once again bringing back witnesses to testify, but failed. Defense lawyers argued that their client could not possibly get a fair trial in this town and asked for a change of venue, and succeeded.
The trial was moved to nearby Rockville in covered bridge country. In January, 1915 the court convened but this time, the John Demetro who appeared in court was a broken man. He had lost 60 pounds and he was pale as a ghost. Seems that jail had taken a toll on the man who had previously lived a life unbound by walls or borders. Jailers reported he had collapsed while making the short trip from the jail to the courthouse. They told the judge that John “worries about his problems and seldom eats.” In addition, Demetro was broke. He entered jail in 1914 with $ 5,000 in his possession but the costs of his defense had made him a pauper.
Once again, the trial was postponed. In April, 1916, a plea bargain was made. Two of the murder charges were dropped and the defendant plead guilty to the second degree murder of his wife. On April 20th he was taken to the Indiana State Prison in Michigan City to serve out a life sentence. The long ordeal was over. By now, he was 58-years-old and prison records list his mental condition as insane. He spent most of his time in the prison hospital. Astonishingly, the government of Indiana wanted this sickly Gypsy prisoner off its hands. On December 12th, 1916, within 18 months of Old John’s imprisonment and against the wishes of his own Board of Pardons, Governor James P. Goodrich paroled Demetro (longtime rumors persist that a bribe was passed). The parole stated that John “had no previous criminal record, was in poor health, bordering on insanity, and suffering from ‘locomotor attaxis’ which prevented him from walking.” He was to be transported back to Brazil by his son to die. He was released on December 13th.
z gypsy John Demetro’s wife and other victims lay in a Terre Haute Cemetery far from the lands of their birth. In Terre Haute’s Highland Cemetery Gypsies make almost annual pilgrimages to visit the graves each summer. Of course, there are numerous reports that the gravesites are haunted by “Gypsy Ghosts”, but most consider these stories as mere folklore designed to scare girlfriends and make kids nervously giggle. But, like every historical ghost story, there is truth behind the legend.