~ Auto Buzz ~: Great Cars of Death VI: Washington's Lake of Death

Saturday, 31 October 2015

Great Cars of Death VI: Washington's Lake of Death



Make sure you read the above in a deep, sonorous voice, with appropriately creepy music playing in the background. 

As the skies darken and the wind picks up, blowing the dry leaves through many a yard decorated with Crescent
ghouls, goblins, jack-o-lanterns, and all too many large inflatable decorations, we once again delve into the mysteries of the automotive netherworld to bring you another installment of Great Cars of Death. 

Florida has its Bermuda Triangle. Scotland has its Loch Ness. Lake Champlain has its inaptly named Champ (I mean, really, "Champ"?). And British Columbia's Lake Okanagan has its both inaptly and decidedly un-frighteningly named Ogopogo. While a certain amount of myth and mystery surrounds all of these bodies of water, only the Bermuda Triangle can reasonably be argued to have quite a few actual deaths associated with it. In contrast to the various monsters of the other lakes in question, Washington's Lake Crescent has no monsters, but quite a few corpses or near-corpse experiences associated with it. Herein I will relate three of these episodes. Two are directly automobile related, but the other is so creepy that I decided that it needs to be included anyway. 

And so, boys and ghouls, pour yourself a steaming cup of witches brew, put your feet up, and read on. . . .if you dare!

*the usual mad laughter*

Lake Crescent lies in the northern foothills of the Olympic mountains along Highway 101 on the Olympic Peninsula of Washington state. The lake itself is a remnant of the last ice age when glaciers carved deep valleys in the mountains, many of which subsequently filled with melting glacier water approximately 12-15,000 years ago. Early in its history, the lake drained into the Elwha River, but a large landslide ca. 8,000 years ago blocked that exit and another channel was cut giving the lake an outlet almost directly to the sea in the Strait of Juan de Fuca. As many glacial or alpine lakes are, Lake Crescent is deep. The official depth is listed at a "mere" 624 feet but it most probably goes to at least 1000 feet in places. And because it is formed in a steep valley the bottom tends to drop away near the shoreline rather precipitously in many places. Hence, if you're of a mind to run your car into a lake, this is not the place to do so. Or, rather, it is the place to do so if you don't care about coming out alive afterwards. 

Highway 101, the Pacific Coast Highway, runs along the southern shore (the lake is oriented largely east-west) for almost 12 miles of its length. It is indeed a beautiful drive, a nicely twisty 2-lane road running right next to the shoreline and in many places bounded by steep rock walls which, in the wet season, have quite a few small waterfalls pouring down. It's really a magnificent drive, which I have done several times in different vehicles (advantage: Civic). These days the road is nicely paved and elevated above the lake shore with abundant guard rails, but early on it was a simple dirt road with few, if any guard rails along most of its length, and could be decidedly dangerous if taken lightly. Which it has been on a number of occasions. 

But despite the natural beauty the lake holds many deadly secrets. . . . .

The Warren Mystery

I guess the title is something of a misnomer since it's not a mystery anymore, but the fate of Blanch and Russell Warren remained shrouded in mystery for nearly 75 years. The Warrens had relocated from Idaho to Washington in the 1920s where Russell had found work in the thriving logging industry on the Olympic Peninsula. He was based at a logging camp near Forks on the Bogachiel River and the family -- Blanch and two sons, Frank and Charles -- were starting to make a life in the Pacific Northwest. Blanch had been at the hospital in Port Angeles (on the north side of the Peninsula, east of Lake Crescent) for unknown reasons, and on July 3, 1929 Russell drove there to pick her up and shop for supplies; they'd planned to celebrate the 4th of July holiday with the family the next day. While in town, they did some grocery shopping and also picked up a new washing machine. 

The car was a 1927 Chevrolet, an AA Capitol, a fairly significant model for Chevrolet. It was derived from the Superior and came in eight body styles and its chassis was the same as that used for Chevy's trucks. 1927-chevrolet-series-aa-capitol-1Ford had recently shut down its Model T production line to make way for the new Model A's, and this allowed Chevy to displace Ford for the first time at the top of the US sales charts. 

The Warrens set out for the logging camp, but they never arrived at their destination. Searchers combed the presumed route for weeks but found no trace of the couple or their vehicle. It seemed likely at the time that the deep waters of Lake Crescent held the couple's secret and, sure enough, in August a local found marks on a log and broken glass near what was then known as Madrona Point. A cap belonging to Russell was found nearby and a diver from Seattle went down to about 75 feet and saw what he thought looked like scarring on the bottom, suggesting something had been that way and gone into deeper water. Further efforts in the 1950s also failed to turn up any sign of the vehicle. 

And there the mystery remained, until Bob Caso -- part of the 1950s search team -- took up the challenge once again in 2001. They combed the shallow waters near the shoreline in various locations -- the term "Madrona Point" had ceased to be used by then -- and found other cars of roughly the same vintage, but no 1927 Chevys. They finally located an old map that indicated that "Madrona Point" had been changed to "Meldrim Point" and concentrated their search efforts there (it's now also known, rather appropriately, as Ambulance Point). Their search began to pay off and they began to recover various objects that seemed to indicate a "debris field" from a curve in the road out into deeper water. 

Debris fields have been used for many years as a way of locating shipwrecks. Perhaps the most famous example was when Robert Ballard followed a debris field to locate the wreck of the Titanic in 1985. The idea is that as a ship sinks it throws out bits and pieces of cargo and other objects that aren't nailed down. In the Warren case, the searchers found a number of items that seemed related to what was known about the Warren's last trip, such as the remains of a wooden grocery box, some Mason jars, and Warrensthe lid of a 1920s-vintage Norge washing machine. 

A subsequent side-scan radar sweep located the washing machine in 188 feet of water. Sensing they were on the right track, professional divers took to the water and eventually, on a rocky slope in 170 feet of water, they found a 1927 Chevrolet:

The car was lying on its left side, with its nose facing slightly down slope. It was at an angle with its roof facing down and the parts facing the surface had numerous stones on them, probably the result of tumbling down the steep underwater slope all of those long years ago.

And thus, the Warren mystery was solved. Apparently, the Warrens had hit the curve too fast and gone into the water, the steep underwater slope causing the car to tumble down to deep water, thus hampering search efforts for decades. No bodies were found, since the water wasn't deep enough in the crash location for the sort of conditions conducive to preserving organic remains. Later dives brought up a few artifacts for the family, but the wreck site is considered a grave site; diving to the wreck is permitted but remains deep enough that only serious divers should attempt it. 

Here are a couple of photos of the wreck site (sources here and here). More, as well as the dive team's work, can be seen here and here. And, if you can get past the weird soundtrack, you can view a video of the wreck site here.

WarrenWreck01

WarrenWreck02

The Steele Wreck 

Near the site of the Warren accident, another car met a similar fate, this time in 1960. On January 24 of that year four friends were headed back to Port Angeles from a friend's house. While traveling the road next to the lake, rain started to fall and freeze on the surface. The driver, Dale Steele, missed a curve -- no doubt in the same way the Warrens had -- and the car plunged into the cold waters of Lake Crescent. 

Happily, however, the occupants were able to escape the rapidly sinking car and swim for shore. The car was soon forgotten but after finding the Warren wreck, other divers decided to have a go at finding the Steele site as well. In 2004, the car was located, only about 200 feet from the Warren site. They managed to retrieve a few items such as a gray-blue Skyway bag belonging to Beverly Sherman. The bag contained a number of items including a pair of cat-eye sunglasses, matchbooks, and an "Aurora Borealis" crystal on a chain. A few other objects were recovered but nothing organic as this wreck as well was too shallow to allow preservation. 

Thus, at least one of our stories has a happy ending. Well, all except for the car, of course. Some photos of the wreck site here.

The Lady of the Lake

Our final segment, alas, has a far different and more sinister ending. While in the Warren's case the lake didn't give up its dead, such was not the fate of another victim. 

On July 6, 1940 two brothers were fishing on Lake Crescent when they spotted something floating in the water. On closer inspection, the object turned out to be a body, wrapped in blankets, with a white shoulder and one foot exposed. Authorities retrieved the body and found it to be the remains of a young woman. The body was remarkably well-preserved, with auburn hair and the remains of a green wool JC Penney dress, stockings, and an elastic garter. And, for a little touch of the macabre, a ring of bruises were seen around the woman's neck, indicating she had been strangled, bound, wrapped in blankets, and dumped into the lake. 

While no immediate identification of the corpse was forthcoming, authorities soon speculated that the body belonged to one Hallie Illingworth, a woman of 36 who had gone missing three years earlier around Christmas of 1937. At the time her husband, Monty, had suggested that Hallie had run off with another HallieLathamIllingworthman. This seemed unlikely as no one had seen nor heard from her again, not even her family. Monty told people that they had had a big argument one night around Christmas and that she had packed her bags and left, telling him that "none of us would ever see her again."

Yeah, we all know how that turns out. 

Investigators had suspected that the corpse was Hallie -- even showing photographs of the cadaver to her sister who identified the remains as those of Hallie -- but proof of ID was not forthcoming. Nearly a year went by until a dentist in South Dakota came forward after seeing a notice in a dental journal that authorities had placed describing a dental plate that had been found in the woman's mouth. He identified it as belonging to Hallie Spraker, who had had the work done before she mad moved to Washington and married Monty, then a beer distributor in Port Angeles. 

By that time, Monty had taken up with another woman and moved to California. What happened next is worthy of any good episode of CSI. Investigators identified the rope as having been sold locally only by the Sears-Roebuck store in Port Angeles. After sifting through sales receipts, they found that a resort owner, Harry Brooks, had purchased 1000 feet of the rope. Questioning Mr. Brooks, they decided that he had nothing to do with the murder, but Brooks did mention that he had loaned 100 feet of the rope to a local beer distributor who said he had needed it to pull his truck out of the mud. The rope had never been returned. Loaning the investigators a section of rope, they compared it to the rope binding the body and found it was a match. They had their man.

A trial ensued and Monty was found guilty of murdering his wife. They had apparently had a terrific fight on the night of Dec 21-22 and Monty had strangled Hallie. Investigators believed that he had put his wife's body in his car (see? there's a car involved!) and drove to Lake Crescent where he loaded her blanket-wrapped body into a boat and rowed out to a deep part of the lake. He weighted the body down using some of the rope he had borrowed and dumped her over the side, assuming the deep and cold waters of the lake would keep his secret. But it was not to be.

The depth at which Hallie had lain had prevented decomposition due to a lack of oxygen. At the same time the chemistry of the lake had converted the fatty tissues into adipocere or a soap-like substance through a process of saponification. This, combined with deterioration of the ropes use to weigh the body down, caused the now-buoyant corpse (see: Ivory Soap) to float to the surface where it was found by the fishermen. Soundings by investigators suggested that the body had been swept beneath an underwater ledge in a deep part of the lake and it was speculated at the time that more bodies could still be under that ledge, all turning to soap and waiting to be discovered. 

 

The top photo of Lake Crescent can be found here. The 1927 Chevy is from HowStuffWorks which has a bit more info on that model. Much of the Lady of the Lake story can be found in the book Myths and Mysteries of Washington by Lynn E. Bragg (hopefully that link will go to the Google Books page where you can read the whole story; a shorter version (and the source of the photo) can be found at HistoryLink

 

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