True Crime Studies: Black Dahlia Avenger, it’s more blind accusation than actual theory
Why are there so many books about the Black Dahlia? Every couple of years brings a new one to light and they all have their own theories about who done it and from what I can tell, none of them match. One of the worst, however, is Steve Hodel’s Black Dahlia Avenger published in 2003, in which he accuses his own father of being the murderer. It’s a book that is as disjointed, melodramatic, entitled, and self-pitying as most of the Hodel family. If you haven’t heard of Steve Hodel, just know that he is the boy who cried murder. The king of the “Daddy Did It” genre. He’s not the pioneer though, that honor goes to Janice Knowlton who popularized it with her own Black Dahlia book, Daddy was the Black Dahlia Killer.
Steve Hodel went way beyond that though. He also accused his father of being the Zodiac, the one behind the “Lipstick Murders” (supposedly solved in 1946) and the “Jigsaw Murderer” of 1967. Which means, either Dr. George Hodel had an awful lot of free time, or his son just really loves to point the finger. Any believable theory offered in Black Dahlia Avenger is discredited by these continuing accusations.
Not that the book needed any of that to be discredited. Black Dahlia experts have debunked the book and all its presented “evidence” many times.
Black Dahlia Avenger is a book that tries so hard to be taken seriously. It reeks of desperation, biting off more than it can chew. For starters, Hodel is not a very good writer. Which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t spend so much time jumping paragraphs by separating multiple sections with subheadings as if he’s writing an essay. The chapters all feel like sections of an incoherent Wikipedia page.
Most of this appears in the many “investigation” sections, which are all very disjointed. They appear and disappear sporadically throughout the book as Hodel breaks away to, more or less, whine about his childhood. This is honestly what really bothered me about Black Dahlia Avenger. Hodel inserts details that have nothing to do with the case in which he’s discussing. Most of this is meant, I think, to prove Dr. George Hodel’s abusive, controlling personality, but fails to do so.
None of it is necessary, and not only is it unnecessary, but it also contradicts some of Hodel’s later claims. One example is the claim that his father’s unseen and secret abuse turned his mother into a depressed alcoholic. Yet in her backstory, he admits to his mother being somewhat of a party girl who suffered from bouts of depression and drank a lot while married to her first husband. He also briefly mentions his father’s other wives, none of whom suffered the same “damage” when he divorced them. One even went on to become a Philippine Congresswoman.
Black Dahlia Avenger
On January 15, 1947, Elizabeth Short, also known as the Black Dahlia, was found in a vacant lot savagely mutilated, severed at the waist and completely drained of blood. There were cuts on her thighs and breasts and her face had been slashed from the corners of her mouth creating a “Glasgow smile.” The cause of death was determined to be hemorrhaging from lacerations to her face and shock from blows to the head and face. It was a onetime event with no murder like it to come before or after, and most of the leads went cold.
Jump to the year 1999 as retired LAPD homicide detective Steve Hodel learns of his father’s passing. His father was the prominent doctor George Hodel who was well known among the Hollywood elite. He treated women for venereal disease, including many actresses. They had a fractured relationship and were just starting to reconnect after so many years. As part of the mourning process, Hodel goes to his father’s house to visit his widow June and this is where things start to unravel.
Hodel is very odd in regarding June. She is quiet and monotone, as many people would be after their spouse dies, yet he seems genuinely confused about this behavior. His bewilderment to June is worded as such:
“She was hesitant, secret, aloof and cautious with me. Was this an Asian cultural response to dealing with grief that kept mourners from sharing emotions? I’d never seen it before, particularly when as a P.I. I worked with my Japanese colleagues on criminal cases. Maybe it was only specific to widows. I didn’t know, but I also sensed there was something deeper- and it didn’t have anything to do with grief.”
Black Dahlia Avenger pg. 36-37
God forbid a woman doesn’t want to socialize with her dead husband’s grown son who she barely knows just days after becoming a widow. June (probably to get him off her case) then hands him a box of family photos that belonged to his father and it’s what’s in the box that cracks the case. (Cue Phantom of the Opera music) Inside is a picture of Elizabeth Short! But not really.
Among the pictures are two photographs of a young woman with black hair sitting in intimate poses. Hodel believes her to be the late Elizabeth Short even though she looks nothing like her. Other than the fact that they’re both white women with dark hair, Short and the woman in the two photos don’t look anything alike. Apparently all white women look the same to Steve. Short’s own sister thought so when she saw the photos sometime later.
“The first thing I noticed was that [it] was definitely not Betty. She never wore flowers all over her head only one on her ear. She always loved Hawaii and I think it made her think of that and Dorothy Lamour.”
Larry Harnisch from Heaven is Here
This is the grand piece of evidence and the rest isn’t much better. Contradictions, random accusations, and “clues” that Hodel magically links to his father. Now, I will say, that when the book actually focuses on Elizabeth Short, it’s not bad. When Hodel stops reciting childhood memories that offer nothing to his theory, we’re reminded of what this book is supposed to be about: the Black Dahlia.
Unfortunately, Hodel is not very good at tieing it all together. Short’s final few months of life are recounted through eye-witness accounts, but they don’t follow any pattern. Some aren’t even in order. He just dumps it all down and expects the readers to craft the timeline themselves.
Tamar and Root of Evil
There are multiple sections in Black Dahlia Avenger that deal with George Hodel’s daughter, the author’s half-sister, Tamar Hodel who accused her father of molesting her when she was 14 in 1949. Tamar is Hodel’s centerpiece in debouching his father’s character, but anyone who knew anything about Tamar would have their doubts about her integrity. There are many indications that she lied after becoming angry with her father over a personal matter. She also accused over a dozen classmates, male neighbors, and family friends of raping her.
She is dealt with in detail in the podcast, Root of Evil, where her own children admit to how manipulative she was.
Tamar is interviewed in Black Dahlia Avenger but nothing she says makes sense. I don’t know if Hodel put words into her mouth or if Tamar just doesn’t know what she’s talking about. One glaring error I couldn’t help but find humorous was when Tamar has a “memory” of her father naming one of her dolls Elizabeth Anne while laughing manically. She then sits back in shock at the realization that the Black Dahlia’s full name was ELIZABETH ANNE SHORT. Except that it wasn’t. Elizabeth Short didn’t have a middle name. The name “Anne” was included by accident by the LA Times during the 1970s. Short’s mother later corrected this fact and testified that her daughter never had a middle name.
Honestly, the Root of Evil podcast makes a much better case for Dr. George Hodel’s guilt. It has a few holes but it’s much more believable.
Verdict
If you want to read up on Black Dahlia, do yourself a favor and skip this book. I did not go into this with an impenetrable preconceived theory about the case. I have my own theory about who did it, but I was open to considering whatever argument Hodel had to offer, unfortunately, the story he’s crafting feels like a soap opera.
In simple terms, Black Dahlia Avenger lacks common sense. It’s also just plain bad. As a closing point, I feel the need to point out that despite Steve Hodel’s claim that his father was “the prime suspect”, Dr. George Hodel was actually one of the narrowed down 21 suspects, most of whom were quickly eliminated. The real prime suspects were actually Leslie Dillon and Walter Bayley.
(2 / 5)
Imagine this. You’re home alone, waiting for your partner to return, when you hear a knock on your door. You answer it to see a family of five, bundled up against the cold. The father, a kindly older gentleman, explains that he used to live in this house as a boy. And he would love to show it to his family.
Do not let them in.
The story
Released in June 2024, We Used To Live Here is author Marcus Kliewer’s debut novel. It tells the story of Eve, who just purchased a beautiful house with her partner, Charlie. Their plan is to flip the house and sell it.
One night, while waiting for Charlie to come home, Eve is surprised by a knock at the door. It’s a man named Thomas Faust and his family.
Thomas explains that he grew up in the house and hasn’t been in the area in years. Would Eve let them in so that he can show the home to his children?
Against her better judgment, Eve lets them in. She regrets this almost at once when Thomas’s daughter vanishes somewhere into the house.
What worked
I always appreciate a book that allows you to play along with the mystery. And this book does that better than just about any other I’ve seen.
Pay close attention to the chapters, to the words that aren’t there. To everything about this novel.
This is mostly down to Kliewer. This is ultimately his work of art. But the production value is also fantastic. I don’t want to ruin the multiple mysteries, so I’ll just say this. There are clues in this book that require some specific artistic choices in the page layouts in this book. And I loved that.
If you’d like to experience another horror book review, check out this one.
We Used To Live Here is also the kind of story that makes you question everything right along with the main character, Eve. Eve is a great main character. But she might be an unreliable narrator. She might be experiencing every single horror described, exactly as it’s described. Or, she might be having a psychotic breakdown. Through most of the book, we can’t be sure. And that is so much fun.
Finally, the weather plays a large part in this story. There are several stories in which the weather or the land itself could be considered a character. Even an antagonist. This is certainly one. The winter storm is the thing that traps the family in the house with Eve. It also makes escaping the home difficult. Reading this book during the winter was especially impactful. Most of us know what it feels like to be shut in by a storm. I’ve personally lived through some of those storms that are just referred to by their year, as though they were impactful enough to claim the whole 365 days for themself. And that was with people I liked. Imagine what it would feel like with strangers. It’s a staggering thought and one that we explore in depth in this book.
In the end, We Used To Live Here is a fantastic book. It’s the sort of story that sneaks into your brain and puts down roots. And if this is just the first book we’re getting from Kliewer, I can’t wait to see what else he comes up with.
(5 / 5)
As a disclaimer, this is a review of The House of My Mother from a critical perspective. I will not be discussing my opinions of the legal case against Ruby Franke and Jody Hildebrandt. I will be discussing the merits of the book as a work of true crime alone.
In 2015, Ruby Franke started a YouTube channel called 8 Passengers. In August of 2023, Franke and her business associate Jodi Hildebrandt were arrested for, and later plead guilty to, charges of aggravated child abuse. And in January of this year, Shari Franke told her story in The House of My Mother.
The story
The House of My Mother is the true story of Shari Franke, the oldest child of one of the most famous family vlogger families.
As a child, Shari came to the conclusion that her mother didn’t like her. Soon, she began to fear her mother’s anger.
Things got significantly worse when Ruby started their family vlog. All of the families most intimate moments were splashed across the internet for anyone to watch. This became a living nightmare for Shari.
Of course, that was only the start of the family nightmare. Because Ruby was about to meet someone who would reinforce all of the darkest parts of herself.
Eventually Shari manages to escape her home. But her younger siblings were still in her mother’s clutches. She had to save them, and her father, from the monster her mother had become.
What worked
Through the book, Shari only ever mentions the name of one of her siblings, Chad. This is because Chad is the only of her siblings that is an adult at the time of the publication.
There are children involved in this story. Children who’s lives and privacy have already been damaged. Shari didn’t want to do that to them again, and neither do I.
It probably won’t surprise you that this book is full of upsetting details. But not in the way you might imagine.
Nowhere in this book will you find gory details about the abuse the Franke kids suffered. And I consider that a good thing. Those sort of details are all fun and games when we’re talking fiction. When it’s real kids who are really living with the damage, it’s not a good time.
What you’ll find instead is a slew of more emotionally devastating moments. One that stuck with me is when Ruby’s mother gives her a pair of silk pajamas as a gift after Ruby gave birth to one of her babies. Shari asks Ruby if she’d bring her silk pajamas when she had a baby. Ruby responds that yes, when Shari becomes a mother they can be friends.
What a lovely way to make a little girl feel like she’s not worth anything unless she reproduces. And, if she does decide to have children, who is going to bring her silk pajamas?
In the end, this isn’t a story about ghosts or demons. It’s not about a serial killer waiting on a playground or in the attic of an unsuspecting family. Instead, this is a story about things that really keep us up at night. It’s the story of a woman so obsessed with perfection that she drove away her eldest daughter. The story of a young woman who’s forced to watch from afar as her beloved brothers and sisters are terrorized and abandoned. These are the sorts of things that really keep us up at night. These are the real nightmares.
More than that, though, The House of My Mother is a story of survival. It’s about a family that was ripped apart and somehow managed to stitch itself back together again. It’s about a brave young woman who managed to keep herself safe and sane in the face of a nightmare. If you haven’t read it yet, I can’t recommend it enough.
For more like this, check out my review of Shiny Happy People.
(5 / 5)
Boreal: an Anthology of Taiga Horror is a collection of twenty-two haunting tales that dwell in the deepest darkest woods and frozen wastelands, edited by Katherine Silva and including Haunted MTL’s very own Daphne Fauber. Each story has even been gifted with its very own poster, hinting at the horrors to be found within it, bestowing a beautiful visual collection as well.
The tales are varied and touch upon the environment in new and different ways, each hearkening to a sort of epiphany or raised awareness. These stories exude both dread and wonder at the smallness of our human existence in contrast to the sacred world we have isolated from, sheltering ourselves in our comfortable houses with centralized heat and everything we could possibly need or want at the ready. The taiga becomes a sanctuary outside of our own dulled awarenesses. It is a holy place imbued with powers beyond mortal human reach, a wilderness that threatens to swallow us – both whole and bit by bit, simultaneously.
The protagonists enter into this realm through ritual, superstition, longing, stubbornness, and their own hubris – yearning to survive its dangers, and to make their own marks upon it. The starkness of their surroundings harbors delicate moments that would be all too easily missed if not deliberately sought or pointed out. The softness of fur, the dappled sunlight shining through trees, the hazy clouds of breath forming in crisp air, the brittleness of bleached bone… those quiet experiences that beg to be forgotten, to lay safely sleeping just below the frozen surface, awaiting spring.
There are those who followed in the footsteps of their predecessors, seeking to escape the constraints of their parent’s and elders’ indoctrination, traditions, madness, and abuse, yearning to find their own way despite also being inextricably bound to their own pasts. There are those who just wanted to go for a walk in the woods, and remained forever changed by what they experienced. There are those who wished to impose their will upon the wilderness, their order falling to disarray, unable to make lasting impact. There are those who sought to leave behind the world of mankind, looking for oneness in the natural order of things through isolation, leaving a bit of themselves behind after being consumed by the terrors they encountered. There are those who truly found communion with the woods, became one with its wildness, and invited its spirit into their hearts to find peace, even at cost of their own lives. And then, there are the spirits themselves…
(3 / 5)
All in all, I give Boreal: an Anthology of Taiga Horror 3.0 Cthulhus. I love existential angst so I found it to be an enjoyable read, and I appreciated the myriad manners in which the biome was explored. But there were points in which I found myself struggling to follow along, as if the words were swept up into their own wilds in ways that alienated myself as reader, as if my mere voyeurism into this otherworldly place was not enough to comprehend the subtle deviations in storytelling mannerisms fully. I suppose in some sense this seems appropriate, but at the same time, it left me feeling a bit unfulfilled, as if I had missed a spiritual connection that should have resonated more deeply.
nonpersonne
September 19, 2020 at 11:44 am
Agreed. Hodel recently consulted a medium to raise some spirit (presumably Beth Short’s). He’s gone on to accuse his father of also being the Lipstick Killer, BTK, etc. And those photographs are definitely NOT of Elizabeth Short.