HORRIBLE  JOSEPH  HINKLE

                                              Norman  V.  Kelly

 

If a kind word was ever said about Joseph Ellsworth Hinkle it was never recorded in print. Folks in Ipava, Illinois, who should know, told reporters he was the lowest of the low even during his childhood.  When Joe’s first wife died, there were plenty of rumors perpetuated stating that Joe had something to do with her death. Never prosecuted, or charged, good old Joe moved on to Peoria, Illinois.  It was here that he met and married pretty Artie Mayall, much to the chagrin of her mother and Artie’s many friends.

 

The first year of their marriage Artie had her worthless husband arrested for assault. She left him and hid out at a friend’s home hoping the peace bond would protect her. Meantime, Joe was on one of his drunken sprees, hanging out with thieves on Bridge Street, near the river in Downtown Peoria, Illinois. This was a notorious place that even policemen would not enter alone. Witnesses say that Joe was running around the streets telling everyone that he was going to kill his wife.  The last time he was seen on Bridge Street he was heard yelling at the top of his lungs.  “Artie! Artie! I’m comin’ to get you.”

 

Around ten in the morning on a beautiful September 18, 1901, Artie was talking to a neighbor when suddenly she screamed out loud, scaring the wits out of the neighbor lady.   “Oh, my God, it’s him!”  Screaming like a banshee Artie ran to the backyard of the house and hid in the small outhouse. Other neighbors ran over to see a deranged looking man running down the street toward them. For these folks what they were about to witness would stay with them until the day they died.

 

Hinkle, now screaming and waving his arms like a mad man raced past the terrified crowd heading straight for the outhouse. Poor Artie was crouched inside with a small hook inside the door her only protection. Hinkle raised his booted foot and with one powerful blow smashed the door off its frail

hinges.  Neighbors looked on in utter horror as Hinkle grabbed up his wife, shaking her like a rag doll.  Artie screamed in terror as Hinkle roared and bellowed shaking her with one hand and slicing away with the knife he held in his other hand. He slashed and stabbed and shook his victim until the entire front of her body was a bloody mess.   He brutally stabbed her three more times before he held up the body in front of him for one last look.  He then tossed her to the ground like a discarded rag doll.

 

Joe then stepped away from the body and stood looking at the crowd a weird half smile on his lips. Hinkle took the knife and began slashing at his own throat, chest and arms.  Smiling now he held up both arms watching the blood drip to the ground.  The killer then tossed the knife to the ground and walked over to his wife’s body.   He sat down next to her, his head between his legs. Finally, the slaughter was over.

 

                                      JOE  STAYS  PUT

 

The mesmerized crowd parted as Peoria officers Marzahan and Lawler approached the crazed man. Without a word Marzahan tackled Hinkle as Lawler cuffed him. “Hey,” Joe whined, “I ain’t runnin’ off can’t you see that?”  Officer Lawler spoke to his prisoner.  “What’s your name?”

Joe grinned, looked over at the crowd and said, “I killed her for love.”

After that he never said another word.

 

                                          THE  TRIAL

 

It was November 25, 1901, Thanksgiving week, not one person wanted to be on a jury during that holiday week.  Finally, a reluctant jury was seated and the trial began. Hinkle had no interest in the proceedings and conducted himself like a disinterested bystander.  It made little difference because on December 1, 1901, he was found guilty and sentenced to death by hanging.

 

                                       THE  HANGING

 

On February 28, 1902 Hinkle was removed from his cell after a picture of his daughter was pinned to his chest. The gallows had been erected on the third floor and a large number of witnesses were invited to see the hanging. Outside on the courthouse grounds hundreds stood in the rain waiting to hear the final word of Hinkle’s death.

 

Up on the platform Hinkle smiled at the sheriff. “Sheriff, if you have any hesitation pulling that trap I’ll pull it myself.”   The remark brought laughter from some of the spectators who were now pushed up against the fence, looking into the calm face of killer, Joseph Hinkle. The black shroud was slipped over his head and the noose adjusted around the condemned man’s neck.

 

Exactly ten minutes after he had been led from his cell Hinkle’s body plummeted to the end of his rope with an audible snap. There was a murmur from the crowd, then silence as they watched the doctors examine the body of Joe Hinkle. For an additional nine minutes the body hung, turning ever so slightly before the three doctors pronounced the killer dead.  “Smoothest hanging this town has ever seen,” said the sheriff.

 

Editor’s Note: Further details available in Norm’s book, Until You Are Dead, available in the Peoria Public Library.  norman.kelly@sbcglobal.net