Murdered by His Mother Inside Classroom

 

On February 14, 1928, seven-year-old Lawrence McCall went to school at the No. 5  Mine schoolhouse in Springfield Township, near the Mercer-Lawrence county line. It was Valentine's Day and the teacher, Miss Ebba Widing, had planned a special presentation and all the parents were invited. Sadly, for the twenty pupils in attendance, this Valentine's Day would forever be remembered with horror, because on this particular day they looked on helplessly as Mrs. McCall slashed her own son's throat in full view of everyone.

It was the Sharon Coal & Limestone Company who owned the mine which gave the village its name, and, like most mining patches, the tiny village of No. 5 Mine was populated by immigrants. Jack McCall and his wife, Jeannie, had arrived from Scotland, with Jack arriving two years earlier and Jeannie staying behind to raise their young son, Lawrence. It was at a munitions factory in Glasgow where she suffered a head injury at the age of 19 that would cause her trouble the rest of her life, and would lead to the death of her only child.

In 1926, Jeannie and Lawrence joined Jack in Mercer County, but Jeannie's physical health continued to deteriorate. By 1928 she was under a physician's care, and was treated for frequent bouts of dizziness and fainting spells. Between these episodes Mrs. McCall appeared normal and healthy, and was regarded as an exceptional mother. If anything, she seemed to idolize Lawrence-- her only child-- a little too much. However, on the afternoon of February 14, 1928, a clerk at the village general store noticed that Jeannie seemed to be acting peculiar, but thought little of it at the time. After leaving the Union Service Supply Company store, Jeannie walked directly to the schoolhouse.

According to the teacher, Miss Widing, it was around 1:30 when Mrs. McCall entered the schoolhouse. The children had just returned from recess and Miss Widing told Jeannie that they were expecting some of the parents for a Valentine's Day party, and told her to take a seat next to Lawrence. She came down the outside aisle and sat to the left of her son, but suddenly got up and retraced her steps. She walked down the other side of the aisle and took a seat behind Lawrence instead. Miss Widing, too, thought little of Jeannie's strange behavior at the time. Surely there must be a reason why Mrs. McCall preferred to sit behind her son, though nobody could possibly foresee what that reason could be.

 

Ebba Widing

 

Once Jeannie McCall was seated Miss Widing turned to the blackboard. Suddenly she heard a commotion and turned around, and saw that the rest of the class was on its feet. Oddly, no one had made a sound-- for everyone in the building was too horror-stricken to speak-- and the reason for the bizarre silence soon became obvious to the eighteen-year-old teacher: There was Jeannie McCall pulling her son's head backward over the desk, slashing at his throat with a kitchen knife which she had hidden in her blouse.

Only then did one of the children scream and the teacher ran to Mrs. McCall and desperately tried to yank her away from Lawrence, suffering a gash on her hand in the process. She dragged the woman to the front of the room and shouted at the children to run for help. They fled from the schoolhouse in terror. Jeannie McCall wrenched herself free and resumed her attack on her son, who was lying bloody and still on the floor. The teacher asked the demented woman why she had done such a terrible thing, but Jeannie only shook her head and fists before collapsing. By this time help had arrived and the limp body of Lawrence McCall was carried to the general store. There was no hope whatsoever of saving him; the head had nearly been severed from the body.

 

Lawrence McCall's blood-stained desk after the tragedy

 

I've Killed My Little Valentine

Next the citizens of the village led Mrs. McCall away from the schoolhouse, which was splattered with the blood of the young boy. "I've killed my wee lamb," she wept as she was ushered to the store, where she was held until the arrival of the sheriff. "I've killed my little valentine."

When told by Coroner William J. McGrath what she had done, Jeannie appeared dazed and confused and did not seem to realize what had happened. Even when Sheriff Callahan told her what the consequences of her actions may be, Jeannie stared vacantly into the distance and moaned. She was arraigned the following day before the justice of the peace, and District Attorney Leo McCay hinted that he would file a formal charge of murder against her, even though it was clear that Jeannie McCall had no recollection of her actions.

"She appears to be in the best of physical condition," stated Dr. Hope, who had examined Mrs. McCall in her jail cell after the slaying. "But she undoubtedly is insane. Her mind is a perfect blank and she even is unable to tell her name. But whether she has been in that condition long I cannot determine at this time. It may be temporary insanity, but I am not ready to say definitely now."

On the night of the murder Jeannie slept fitfully in a jail cell. The sheriff's wife, Mrs. Callahan, remained at her side constantly. A nurse, Viola McArdle, was also stationed at her bedside.

The coroner's jury agreed that Jeannie had been mentally deranged at the time of the killing, and called for the formation of a lunacy commission. Judge J.A. McLaughry appointed Dr. Hope and Dr. Richardson. Jeannie McCall was present at the hearing but was not called to testify, though she was still in such a nervous condition that she was ordered to return to jail in the middle of the hearing out of concern for her own safety. As for the boy's father, James McCall, the affair had rendered him a complete wreck, and he was too ill to attend the proceedings.

 

Jeannie McCall inside her cell at the Mercer County Jail

 

The Aftermath

On February 18, 1928, the lunacy commission found Jeannie McCall insane, and she was ordered to be taken from jail immediately to the Warren State Hospital (then known as the State Insane Asylum at Warren). She would never rest in a grave alongside her son; before the end of the year she would be sent back to Scotland by order of Judge McLaughrey. As for the child she slaughtered, he is buried outside the borough of Mercer at Findley Cemetery, adjacent to the county fairgrounds.

Classes at the No. 5 Mine schoolhouse were suspended for several days after the tragedy, though the school directors of Springfield Township decided against its permanent closure. The February 20, 1928 edition of the New Castle News reported that the schoolhouse would be "re-painted and papered to obliterate and possible remembrance of the fearful act." The school re-opened later that week, with Miss Edda Widing resuming her teaching duties.



Sources:

New Castle News, Feb. 15, 1928.
Pittsburgh Press, Feb. 15, 1928.
Canonsburg Daily Notes, Feb. 15, 1928.
Oil City Derrick, Feb. 16, 1928.
Lancaster Intelligencer Journal, Feb. 18, 1928.
New Castle News, Feb. 28, 1928.

Franklin News-Herald, Sept. 13, 1928.