by M. William Phelps

In the play Arsenic and Old Lace, two women, living under that “harmless little old lady” persona, offering seniors a cozy place to room and board, use elderberry wine and arsenic to commit murder. The play, written by Joseph Kesselring, is billed by the Connecticut Theatre Group as “a delightful evening of murder and mayhem with eccentric aunts, crazy nephews and bodies in the basement!” The Ivoryton Playhouse, on Main Street in Ivoryton, CT, is performing Arsenic and Old Lace June 9 through the 27 of this year. We’re working out the details now, but I will be attending a performance on June 24 to sign copies of my book, The Devil’s Rooming House, and talk about how Kesselring wrote the play based on the true story of prolific female serial killer Amy Archer-Gilligan, the subject of my book.

The play has been performed somewhere on the planet for the past seventy-eight years. That’s almost eight decades! It is a popular production high schools and colleges often stage. Frank Capra directed Cary Grant in the hit Hollywood movie version. To say that the Arsenic and Old Lace franchise has been a success is beyond an understatement; the production has generated tens of millions of dollars in revenue all over the world.

What is interesting, beyond the concept of the play itself and the differences between the plot and characters and Amy Archer’s life, is the idea that murder is a form of humorous entertainment. These two old women in the production murder men—and seem to enjoy making a comedy of it. There are plenty of belly laughs and gags to keep us in stitches throughout.

As I have been out on the road talking up my book, the idea of murder as a comical form of entertainment has come up time and again. Amy Archer killed no fewer than 50 people. There’s nothing amusing about that. Those deaths—by arsenical poisoning—were not fast or without a terrible bout of acute pain (and fever), projectile vomiting, nausea, explosive diarrhea, dehydration, and slow death. There’s even some indication that while her victims were dying, Amy taunted and ridiculed them—that is, before taking their money.

So the question, then, becomes: How does one sit and enjoy a production glamorizing and trivializing murder? Some of us in the business of writing true-crime books are continuously dodging jabs from certain opponents who want to minimize what we do, call it exploitation, and say we are making a profit at the expense of murder victims and their families. Many don’t see the journalism. Or understand how hard the work is.

That said, how is it that Kesselring got away with this? How did his play, which opened to favorable reviews and large audiences, get around the idea of murder as entertainment?

Kesselring made several changes, for one, after he was told he did not have permission to use Amy’s story. Amy, lest we forget, lived until the late 1960s, so she was alive for many years while a play about her life was staged around the world. Kesselring did not want to get sued. Audiences, of course, did not know they were watching a play based on a true story. In that sense, they were duped. After all, who in their right mind would write a comedy on an actual murder case?

The play is centered around two elderly women, the madcap, zany, sadistic Brewster sisters. In the real story there was only one woman in her late thirties. Amy was not, as many might presume, an old woman when she committed the murders. The original title of Kesselring’s play was “Bodies in the Cellar,” simply because his femme fatales buried their victims in the cellar of their home. Amy never buried anyone in the cellar of her Windsor, CT, home; she had the undertaker come in the middle of the night and whisk the bodies away after the in-house doctor signed off on a “natural” cause of death. Teddy Brewster, the “crazy” nephew in the production who thinks he’s Teddy Roosevelt, is based on a real person—Amy’s brother. There are many more of these similarities. But the impetus of each scene and each character is from some part of Amy Archer’s dark reality.

I have learned a lot from the discussions about murder as entertainment we’ve had along the course of my book tour. What I have been saying, to put it briefly, is, if critics of true-crime out there really want to complain to someone about murder being a form of entertainment, please, I beg of you, write to Nancy Grace. Nancy has—along with other like her—turned exploiting murder into a cottage industry, and she thinks she’s doing the world a service, to boot!

My point is, there is truth, disguised of course through the use of trickery and gimmickry, behind most of the popular stories we think are totally fictitious (ahem … “Law & Order”). All stories are based in truth. It’s that fine line between fact and fiction—entertainment shows camouflaged as hard news—that blur things and confuse some of us. When you watch Arsenic and Old Lace, you understand it is a fictitious comedy; the fact that it is based on a true story doesn’t make a difference. But when you watch a show like Nancy Grace, you might be under the impression you are getting news/journalism, and that there are teams of investigative journalists working behind the scenes. Amy Archer was tried and convicted. Her case was closed years before the play hit. How many “alleged” criminals has Nancy Grace and her posse made viewers believe are guilty—for the most part based on the speculation and opinions of her guests? Night after night, Nancy’s guests trash suspects, couching their arguments on that ridiculous word “allegedly.”

Murder as sport, that’s what you get. Commentators and pundits who think they know what the hell it is they’re talking about. Guilty until proven innocent. The new American way.

[CR Note: Annette Anderson was one of the central figures in the trial of Nick Hacheney, a youth pastor from Bainbridge Island, WA, who was convicted of murdering his wife, Dawn. The Hacheney case is the subject of Gregg Olsen’s book, A TWISTED FAITH.]

By Annette Anderson

In the story of A TWISTED FAITH, spiritual ambition is front and center as Nick Hacheney and Sandy Glass plot to gain power and status within their Christian environment, ridding themselves of anything or anyone who’s in their way.

Pastor Nick knew that he had a privileged place within Christendom; after all, his father had been telling him this since childhood.  When he paired up with Sandy Glass, her prophetic influence launched them both into a quest for advanced spiritual power that both had longed for individually.  The problem for their attainment of such status and power appeared to be their spouses, who seemed much less “spiritually” ambitious than Nick and Sandy were.

Outside affirmation for their twisted plan came through many venues, one of which was Rick Joyner’s controversial book: THE FINAL QUEST.  In his book, Joyner details his own prophetic vision, laid out as a great battle plan.  In his vision, Joyner obtains increasingly greater spiritual truths as he defensively battles less-spiritual Christians.  His journey up God’s mountain and into hidden realms finds him uncovering concealed spiritual experiences reserved for only the elite.

Both Nick and Sandy identified with this mentality of Christian elitism, as they passed along veiled messages to those around them, encouraging a select few to join their twisted vision.

The book, THE FINAL QUEST, is a source of Christian debate within itself, but even more so now that we know how Nick and Sandy hi-jacked it in their own quest, and used it to justify the spiritual-sexual abuse of those who put their trust in them.

Annette and Craig Anderson in a recent photograph.

[CR Note: Annette Anderson was one of the central figures in the trial of Nick Hacheney, a youth pastor from Bainbridge Island, WA, who was convicted of murdering his wife, Dawn. The Hacheney case is the subject of Gregg Olsen’s book, A TWISTED FAITH. The case will also be featured on Dateline NBC on Friday.]

By Annette Anderson

As I walked into the basement meeting room of my local Police Station I had no idea what I’d be in for. The Kitsap County Prosecutor who accompanied me, assured me that I could take as many breaks as I needed to get through what was sure to be a stressful meeting. Though I’d previously been interviewed by both police detectives and county prosecutors, meeting with Nick’s defense attorneys was sure to hold an entirely different agenda, if not a most unpleasant experience.

An air of adversarial posturing became immediately apparent, as both of Nick’s attorneys’ shook hands with those around me, barely glancing my way. Their small talk with each other indicated that they were just passing through. The side trip through my town would soon be over and they’d be on their way to more preferable activities; skiing in the mountains.  They’d endure their time with me, as much as I with them.

Though I was still unclear about the details of Nick’s crimes, or what my role as a witness for the prosecution entailed, I knew that he’d been charged with murder and was in jail awaiting trial. My memory reached back to the Nick that I thought I knew. While it was true we were no longer friends – having not spoken for nearly two years – I wondered if I might find a reason to doubt the charges against him.

With the onslaught of questions, the objective of our meeting became clear to me. Nick’s defense team didn’t appear to be looking for facts, but for information with which to discredit me and the other prosecution witnesses that I knew.

“So you loved Nick?” they sneered. “What about Bob Smith, he was your Pastor, did you love him too?”

Gregg Olsen's book is the subject of a Dateline NBC broadcast.

I looked around for an advocate for myself, but found none. Sure the prosecutor who sat next to me was on my side, so to speak, yet she made no attempt to stop the insulting innuendos coming my way.

Maybe she couldn’t?

A voice recorder perched in the middle of the oblong table silently imposed, as the defense team sought to create a verbal record with which to bind me during trial.  The final blow came when one of Nick’s attorneys’ suggested my incompetence, intrusively asking me if I’d ever been officially diagnosed with a mental illness.

With this one question I was confronted with a stunning epiphany; Nick absolutely wasn’t who he’d claimed to be.  If he was willing to defend himself on my back, I assumed him capable of anything.

“No,” I answered, my resentment deflecting their disappointment.
The meeting ended soon after.

Many years have since passed. I’ve since become aware of so much more detail, so many events placed within a context I didn’t know about at the time of this meeting. How these interwoven events relate to the murder of Dawn, and the abuses surrounding that dreadful time so long ago, have only served to clear my head and solidify what I’ve now accepted – Nick never was who he’d claimed to be.

Note: More about the case can be found in the case file at www.aTwistedFaith.com.

What happened on Christmas night 1997?

I know a little about the concept of “shooting the messenger” as I’ve taken a few hits over the years for the things that I’ve written. That comes with the territory. I doubt the people who are so quick to pass judgment on others and their missteps in life – as portrayed in a book – know what it’s like to stand up for something in a very public way.

Because this is the internet age, remember. Anyone can post anything about anyone.

I told the people I interviewed for A TWISTED FAITH to be prepared to take a few hits.  I warned them that telling the truth, the uncomfortable truth, is never easy. That when you dare to share your tho

ughts and remembrances of a traumatic event some people will rush right up to you.

And stab you in the back.

I cherish truth and courage. I ask for truth when I’m writing someone else’s story. But the courage comes from them when they dig down deep, face the ugly, and still find a way to share it. When I wrote the book about the Dawn Hacheney murder case, I knew that Lindsey Smith, Bob “PB” Smith, Diana Tienhaara, Nicole Matheson, and Annette Anderson would be on the front lines.

I know that none will necessarily agree with everything I wrote, but I’m grateful to them just the same.

I’d like to share some comments made in response to a thoughtful post that Annette wrote for MomLogic.com late last year. In the post she – not I – wrote she talked about the importance of telling the truth and how she gathered the courage to do so.  She was candid and direct.

When you have a moment read what she wrote. But pay equal attention to the comments. At last count there were 64 of them.  Some were supportive, and many were not.  Annette, trying to explain why she did what she did, answered some. As the author of the upcoming book, I did too.

Best friends Annette Anderson and Sandy Glass

Here’s a snip or two:

I’m really glad you shared your story, Annette. It takes a lot of guts to do the right thing and you’ve handled it with such grace. Hang in there and keep building on the great life you’ve made for you, your husband and children. – anonymous too

I appreciate your thoughts and comments. I agree that my naiveté made me vulnerable to this type of exploitation by my former pastor, but on the other hand I was in church, giving my trust to those who professed themselves to be devoted servants of God. It is a terrible reality that predators lurk in such places. While organizations certainly have their flaws, it is the people that make them either good, or evil. – Annette

Was he hot?- Anonymous

Nope, Nick wasn’t “hot” but he was charismatic and possessed a kind of “I really, really care about you” demeanor that (either real or manufactured) seemed to draw women close. He had intimate relationships with at least four members of his church. – gregg olsen

Although this is a terrible example of what faith should be, I believe the writer shows remorse and has learned that we cannot put our all of our faith in people but we need to put it in God. I think it took her courage to write this and I know God will set her free from guilt. There are many wolves in sheep clothing, God will reveal who is who. May her faith grow and she can learn from this because she was a victim of satan’s plans and coercion. – anonymous

I am so impressed that you have the courage to come out front with all of your “dirty laundry” We ALL have it but most of us want to keep it hidden! Thanks to people like you others know that they are not alone.(and maybe not so bad off!) They can see that there is the light of God to bring us out and His mercy to heal and forgive us. What a testimony you have. I pray that you will not be discouraged but continue to grow in your faith and continue to share. – C

One of Nick Hacheney’s relatives picked up the first rock and hurled it:

Christ Community Church, Bainbridge Island, Wash.

Everyone can go back to all the comments I wrote! I swear on everything I have, I am telling the truth. You confided in me on several occasions. Annette, I was also there!!!!!!!!! You were not abused, or a victim, or molested, or brain washed. You knew what you were doing. Also knew it was wrong. You had other woman from the church telling you to back off as well as your own pastor.. .remember him?? Pastor Bob..he was your pastor. Not Nick. As I said, the truth according to Annette. You are disgusting! Now, I have tried a few times since your reply.. and my comments are not getting posted. Is that you doing that Annette? Anyone can find me on Facebook. Tami Parcells..look me up if anyone has questions about this liar. She is a self-centered attention craving liar. Apparently, that has not changed. She had no secrets…because everyone knew. Everyone knew, because she told them and made it so obvious.- annetteisaliar

A few more posts later, another Nick apologist chimed in:

Wow! Where are all of Annette’s defenders now?? Looks like some of those other comments had a little truth in them after all. Tami sure shut every one up. You guys look like a bunch of idiots. I don’t know who to believe. If you’ve been living with this for over 10 years, aren’t you ready to put it behind you and move one?? Get over yourself. As long as you keep putting yourself out there as the poster child for this book, people are going to keep questioning your motives. Come on Annette, you’re not trying to save the world from evil pastors, you’re plugging a book. – kathy45

Hmmmm. About plugging a book…. Annette isn’t plugging a book, Kathy45. Something traumatic happened to her (and she takes accountably for her part in that) and she wanted to tell her story so that

A Twisted Faith by Gregg Olsen

others might learn something from it. Is that so hard to understand?

Finally, someone comes in and sets the record straight.

Wow, what BITTER women Tami and Kathy45 are! First of all: Tami, Annette’s supporters haven’t gone anywhere, so don’t worry your pretty little head. We just have busy lives and don’t have the luxury of sitting at a computer all day to make nasty posts! It is important to note that you are a bitter foster sister of Nicks that appears to have been brain washed too. I hear he is good at convincing people he didn’t do anything wrong. Nick killed Dawn. You would have to be stupid to not get this! Does propane for Christmas scream ” I LOVE YOU” to you. How about we put it next to Dawn’s side of the bed and plug in an electric heater. WOW, I would so feel loved by my husband by such sediments! Wow, amazing how Dawn’s purse was forgotten in the car overnight. Amazing how all the important papers were in her purse too. Come on Tami, Nick killed Dawn! This is why he is in jail! – Anonymous

So I’m asking the readers of the book (especially those who were members of the church and community) for their take on this kind of judgment-without- the-facts that seems to rule our world these days. What do you think happened to Dawn Hacheney on that Christmas night?

And yes, you can post anonymously.