The Dietrich Axe Murders of 1930

 

Located between York and Dallastown, the village of Spry has an interesting history. The village was originally named Innersville in honor of Jacob Inners, whose widow, Susannah Inners, operated a hotel in the village between 1830 and 1850. Susannah was the daughter of Revolutionary War veteran Captain John McDonald, who owned the land upon which the village was later built. When the first post office in the village was established in July of 1886, the name Spry was chosen for reasons that are unknown (it does not appear to be the surname of any early settler or prominent local citizen) and the name Innersville was soon forgotten.

When the York and Dallastown Electric railway was completed in 1902, the tiny farming community experienced a period of rapid growth and development. Within a few years Spry would boast over fifty houses, three general stores and several cigar factories. Today, Spry is a thriving suburb of York peppered with modern housing developments and dozens of businesses, but for most of its history Spry was known as a rural farming community. In September of 1930, however, the peaceful village of Spry was the scene of the bloodiest murder in York County history. It was here where an entire family was slaughtered by the blade of an insane farmer's axe.

Drought, Despair and a River of Cows

The summer of 1930 was dry and dusty. Just a few years before severe drought turned the High Plains into the great dust bowl we've all read about in history class, a similar combination of lack of rain and destruction of topsoil by rapid development brought severe hardship to farmers in York County and other regions east of the Rockies. By August, the widespread failure of corn crops was reported in Ohio, Indiana, Iowa and Illinois, while the governor of Virginia sent a letter to President Hoover urging a national day of prayer for rain. In New Jersey, dairy farmers suffered historic financial losses, while clover, alfalfa and tomato crops were utterly annihilated. Governor Sampson of Kentucky reported that sheep and cattle were being marched to the slaughterhouse in droves, having lost ninety percent of their value because farmers could not afford to buy feed. Because of parched pastures, milk shortages were rampant across the United States. 

Meanwhile, in Pennsylvania, many residents of York County witnessed one of the strangest sights their eyes had ever beheld. The destruction of pasture and lack of rain forced entire herds of sheep and cattle to graze on Susquehanna River-- one of the few places where lush grass could still be found, growing from the many exposed spots of riverbed. Between Long Level and Wrightsville, it was reported on August 12, not a single blade of grass could be found. Pennsylvania's Department of Agriculture reported on August 1 that the state's corn yield had fallen by 33%, while hay production had fallen by half a million tons and the potato yield had fallen by 1.5 million bushels. The honey crop-- an overlooked but important source of revenue for York County-- was practically nonexistent that summer.

The severe drought not only impacted farmers and food supplies, of course; throughout York County heated battles broke out over drinking water. After owners of privately-owned water companies refused to comply with state government orders to furnish an increase of water to customers, citizens in Hanover and other parched communities formed citizen groups, vowing to take over the water supply by force if need be. While these hardships do not excuse the brutal actions of 42-year-old Spry farmer Harry Dietrich, this snapshot of living conditions in the summer of 1930 do help explain why his mind snapped, causing him to take the lives of his wife and four children before hanging himself.

The Grocer's Discovery

Jacob Eppley, a grocer from Spry, was in a foul mood on Tuesday, September 23, when he left his home and traveled a mile south to the Dietrich farm. He had purchased a large quantity of potatoes from Harry Dietrich, which were to be delivered on Saturday. By Tuesday his potatoes still had not arrived and his store had run out, so he went to the farm to have a word with Harry. The eighty-acre farm was eerily quiet when he arrived at around three o'clock and Eppley's knocks on the kitchen door went unanswered. This unsettled Eppley, who was accustomed to seeing the three Dietrich children around the farm, but the only signs of life were the feeble groans of the starving cows. Eppley continued to shout for Harry, but the only reply was his own echo. Eppley walked into barn, where he was immediately confronted by the sight of the dead farmer swinging from a rope which had been tied to a rafter.

Eppley immediately drove back into Spry and notified the coroner, Dr. Lloyd Urban Zech, who soon arrived at the farm. After Eppley and the coroner cut down the body they encountered Kurwin Mummert, who was hunting on the land bordering the Dietrich farm. He hadn't seen any activity at the farm, or any sign of Harry's wife or children. Fearing that the nightmare was just beginning, the coroner asked the two men to enter the house with him. He was correct; the coroner was used to seeing dead bodies, but not even he was prepared for the gruesome sights the men would soon encounter.

 
Murder or a Death Pact?

Inside an empty candy box on the kitchen table the coroner found Harry's suicide note, which hinted that the Dietrich family had agreed to sacrifice themselves. The note read: Financial worry. Bury at Stone Pile. Tell Sol and Fred to be good to mother. We are out of their way. Also, Calvin Runkle. We decided to die together. I could not leave them alone. 

The note was unsigned. The Stone Pile was a reference to the cemetery of the Bethlehem Stonepile Methodist Church in Red Lion, while Sol and Fred were the dead man's brother-in-law and brother. The Calvin Runkle mentioned in the note was Mrs. Dietrich's father.

While Eppley and Mummert searched downstairs, Coroner Zech went upstairs. Opening the door to one of the bedrooms, the coroner saw a sight that made him sick. "In all my experience as coroner of this county, this was the most terrible example of violent death that I have been called upon to witness," he later stated. "Words cannot describe it. I have never seen anything like it before, and I never want to again."

Inside the room, three beds stood with their backs to the wall, two of them containing three of the Dietrich children: Eleven-year-old Mabel, eight-year-old Anna, and five-year-old Johnny. Just inside the door, sprawled across the floor, was 30-year-old Malvina Dietrich. The body of the oldest boy, ten-year-old Paul, was next to her. A blunt axe, smeared with blood, was found on the floor not near Malvina's body. After attacking his victims with the axe, Harry had wrapped twine tightly around their throats to ensure their deaths. 

Signs of Struggle

While Harry's suicide note implied that the family had decided, as a group, to forfeit their lives, evidence at the scene suggested otherwise. Malvina's fatal wound had been a single blow to the back of the head with the axe while the children were apparently still asleep in their beds. But a child's bloody handprint on the wall bore mute evidence that one of the children had put up a fight. The coroner believed that it was Paul whose hand had made the ghastly print, and he speculated that Paul and Malvina had tried to escape from the room when they were struck down by Harry's blade. The coroner's belief was strengthened by the discovery of a splotch of blood under the lone unoccupied bed, suggesting that Paul had tried to crawl under the bed to escape from his death-crazed father. Streaks of blood ran from beneath the bed to the spot where Paul had fallen, indicating that Paul had been dragged from under the bed by his father.

Coroner Zech believed that Harry Dietrich had waited until his family was asleep before killing them, one by one, with a blow to the head with the stout, dull axe. One bedroom on the second floor, believed to have been occupied by five-year-old Johnny, showed signs of recent occupancy, perhaps indicating that Harry had carried the boy upstairs so that all his children could die in the same room. Finally, the farmer went to the barn, where he secured a heavy halter rope and fastened one end to a rafter. After placing the noose around his neck, Harry stepped off the ladder leading to the haymow, completing the tragedy.

 
Otherwise, Harry was a Nice Guy

The coroner believed that the murders had taken place late on Sunday night or early on Monday morning. The children's teacher at Sprenkle's schoolhouse reported that the Dietrich children did not show up for class on Monday. Upon further investigation, Deputy Sheriff Harry Menges found a letter inside the home from a bank in Red Lion, informing Dietrich that payment on a note for $3,800 was due on September 27. Relatives and friends stated that Harry had been brooding over the failure of his crops that summer, and authorities were satisfied that Harry's mind had snapped under the stress of his financial troubles.

Friends and acquaintances of the killer declared that Harry was widely known as a hard-working man of solid moral character-- some even described him as being "excessively religious"-- while his wife had the respect of everyone in the community. Harry kept the farm in excellent condition, while Malvina kept the home clean and tidy. Religious pictures hung on the walls, while the family Bible-- one of seven Bibles owned by the family-- occupied a place of prominence inside the home. Tucked among the pages was a poem written written by Mabel: Some little folks are apt to say when asked their task to touch, I'll put it off at least today, it cannot matter much. Time is always on the wing, you cannot stop its flight-- then do at once your little task, you'll be happier at night.

Mother Arrives at the Scene

There is little doubt that Harry was close to his mother, Mrs. Amanda Catharine Dietrich of Red Lion. Harry's last thoughts, as he scribbled his farewell message to the world, were of his mother, and, not surprisingly, she was the first to arrive at the scene of the tragedy after she heard there was "trouble up at the Dietrich place". 

"I knew something was wrong," wept Harry's mother upon learning of the family's slaughter and her son's suicide. "Harry didn't act like himself when he was over to our place on Sunday afternoon. He wouldn't even come in the house to eat." She then collapsed from shock and a physician from Dallastown, Dr. Frey, was summoned. The thought of burying another one of her children was simply too much for her nerves to bear; she had lost two daughters in infancy and another at the age of 26 (sadly, Amanda would outlive six of her eight children). Meanwhile, Harry's father roamed the farm in a daze, as though his mind could not process the horror of his son's actions.

The Motley and the Morbid

By this time, large and motley crowds of the morbidly curious had gathered at the farm. The State Highway Patrol was dispatched to keep trespassers at bay while the six bodies were removed to the undertaking parlor of Furnace B. Olewiler in Red Lion. Over five thousand people viewed the bodies at the funeral parlor, while thousands more attended the funeral services at Springdale Evangelical Church on Thursday, September 25. Ironically, the pastor who officiated the funeral service, Reverend Heighland, had officiated Harry and Malvina's wedding ceremony twelve years earlier. As Harry had requested, the family was laid to rest in the Bethlehem Stonepile Church Cemetery.

On October 11, the Dietrich farm and property was sold at auction, with Elmer Markey of Spry purchasing it for $4,500 (he would not get to enjoy his purchase for very long; Markey died less than two years later at the age of 47). It was reported that four thousand people attended the auction, lending the death farm a carnival-like atmosphere. The public sale more than paid off Dietrich's debt, as folks were willing to pay a premium for anything attached to the terrible tragedy. While many expressed an interest in buying the bedframes from the old farmhouse, the potential buyers were saddened to learn that they had been destroyed before the auction, while new flooring had been laid in the house and the walls repapered to obliviate any trace of the slaughter. All of Harry's axes fetched good prices, however, though the infamous instrument of death which Harry used to send his wife and four children to their graves was not among them.

Whether or not the 1930 slaughter at Spry was the culmination of a murder-suicide pact has never been determined, but, if it was, it would not be the last time York County experienced a family tragedy orchestrated by a religious fanatic. On January 25, 2022, a family of three was found dead in the back yard of their West Manchester Township home on Loman Avenue. According to police, a young woman and her parents died as part of a suicide pact. Deborah A. Daub, 59, fatally shot her husband, James A. Daub, 62, in the back of the head. Then their daughter, 26-year-old Morgan E. Daub, shot her mother in the back of the head. Finally, Morgan shot herself in the back of the head. Records show that it was Morgan who chose the date based on a Bible verse, and when the bodies were discovered, she was clutching a sword inscribed with the words, "The Sword of the Lord" on its blade.

Sources:

York Dispatch, Aug. 6, 1930.
York Dispatch, Aug. 12, 1930.
Hanover Evening Sun, Sept. 24, 1930.
York Dispatch, Sept. 24, 1930.
Harrisburg Telegraph, Sept. 25, 1930.
York Dispatch, Oct. 13, 1930.