Cincinnati Murder & Mayhem

INTRODUCTION

Cincinnati has always been a city of great diversity and extremes. In its 233 years, Cincinnati has seen the best and the worst of humanity and nature. Our local scientists have achieved noble goals, saving countless lives, while an influenza outbreak killed hundreds of citizens. German Americans created a legendary beer-brewing culture, while one of their own murdered them one after the other. We have built skyscrapers that were among the tallest in the world. At the same time, angry townsfolk destroyed an enormous courthouse during a time of unrest. Many Cincinnatians have become famous for their tenacity and accomplishments; others have become famous for their untimely deaths. A sunny day can turn into a fierce destructive storm in minutes. There are stories of shocking crimes that plumb the depths of human depravity, and tales of awe that send shock and blood across the headlines of yesteryear. The scales of justice oscillate, sometimes slowly, sometimes quickly, in The City of Seven Hills.

Isaac Newton once said, For every action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. That observation has never been more fitting than for Cincinnati.

Cincinnati Murder & Mayhem is a collection of stories from the sinister side of Cincinnati. The Queen City, as locals call it, has always been a place of wonder and progress, but it has its darker side as well. These tales from the morose underside of Cincinnati create a backdrop of city life—and death—in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries. There are two sides to Cincinnati, so come explore mystifying stories of true crime, natural disasters, civil unrest, and more, all from the morbid side of greater Cincinnati’s unrepentant history.

1

THE EASTER SUNDAY SLAUGHTER

Hamilton, Ohio, is a small town of sixty-three thousand residents about twenty miles north of Cincinnati proper. It’s usually a quiet, safe, and friendly place in which to live. Large trees line neat streets, single-family homes, and the downtown features historic buildings, open parks, and the remnants of the Miami and Erie Canal. The local Christmas parade, trick or treating and Fourth of July celebrations bring the community together, while Thanksgiving and Easter bring families together. It has the feel of a small midwestern town, with the amenities of a larger city close at hand. To most folks, Hamilton must seem more Mayberry than Manhattan. It would be easy to forget the harshness of reality in Hamilton’s bucolic nature, but sometimes, that perfect picture is shattered by a single headline.

On Easter Sunday, March 30, 1975, James Urban Ruppert murdered eleven family members in his mother’s house at 635 Minor Avenue in Hamilton. The incident is now known as the Easter Sunday Slaughter.

Ruppert’s early life was, according to court testimony, unstable. He was born on April 12, 1934. His mother, Charity, would tell him that she would have rather had a daughter. His father, Leonard, had a violent temper. He didn’t care much about James or his brother Leonard Junior. As a child, James suffered from asthma and was not able to participate in a lot of activities due to the condition. James frequently told people that his mother hated him; he claimed that his mother beat him and encouraged Leonard to participate in the beatings.

The Ruppert family home. Photo in public domain.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for James, Leonard Sr. died in 1947, when James was twelve. Leonard Jr. became the father figure in the house and made life difficult for young James. Things got so bad that when he was sixteen, James tried to commit suicide by hanging himself with a sheet.

As an adult, James Ruppert was described as a quiet and helpful yet unremarkable man. The young man had no police record. James was jealous of his older brother’s good job and family life. After two years, he flunked out of college while his brother earned a degree in electrical engineering and did well in athletics. Leonard Jr. also married James’s ex-girlfriend, and the couple had eight children. Leonard had a good job with General Electric, while James was unemployed at the age of forty-one. James was a designer of jet engines and mechanical apparatuses by trade, but on becoming unemployed he moved back in with his sixty-five-year-old mother, Charity. The formerly semi-successful James had hit on hard times. He was described by those who knew him as a loner and an assiduous reader. His mother threatened to evict him because she was fed up with him not holding a job and his constant drinking. James also owed his mother and brother money. As pressure mounted on James, he withdrew into a world of solitude and alcohol.

A month before the massacre, James asked a gun store clerk about silencers for his weapons while purchasing ammunition. His behavior was becoming more unstable.

The night before the murders, like most other nights, James was out at the 19th Hole Cocktail Lounge, a bar where he talked with employee Wanda Bishop. She would later testify that James told her he was frustrated with his mother’s nearly constant nagging and other family problems and that he needed to solve the problem. He left the bar at 11:00 p.m. but came back later. When Bishop asked him if he had solved the problem, he told her, No, not yet. He stayed at the bar and continued drinking until it closed at 2:30 a.m. He then made his way home.

On Easter Sunday, March 30, 1975, Leonard Jr. was visiting his mother’s house. He and his wife, Alma, brought their eight children to see their grandmother for the holiday.

James was upstairs sleeping off his previous night of drinking while the other family members enjoyed an Easter egg hunt in the front yard. Later, Charity Ruppert began cooking a meal while Leonard and Alma sat at the kitchen table. Most of the eight children were in the living room.

Around 4:00 p.m., James woke up, loaded a .357 Magnum, two .22-caliber handguns, and a rifle and went downstairs. He entered the kitchen and shot and killed Leonard Jr. first. The shot that killed Leonard was to the head. James then shot and killed his sister-in-law, Alma, and his mother, Charity, as she tried to stop him. Both received shots to the head. James left blood splattered all over the kitchen and three bodies sprawling in a pool of mingled blood. Next, he shot his nephew David in the head and his young and pretty nieces Teresa and Carol.

He then shot and murdered his niece Ann execution-style, as well as four nephews, Leonard, Michael, Thomas, and John. Why no one was able to escape or elude the gunfire would continue to be a mystery long after the smell of gunfire had dissipated. Busy with their own Easter celebrations, the shots, more than thirty, went unnoticed by neighbors.

For some unknown reason, James waited three hours in the blood-soaked house before calling the police to report the shooting. Patrolman Robert Minor was the first on the scene and found the bodies across two rooms. Three girls, a boy, and their father were found in the living room. The corpses of the two women and four of the children were found in the kitchen. All of them were riddled with bullets and soaked in blood. The police found James near the house, and he was arrested. The bodies, all eleven of them, were taken to Brown-Dawson Funeral Home in Hamilton. Questions arose immediately. How could eleven people be killed execution-style without any of them seeming to struggle or escaping? What turned an ordinary man into such a vicious killer? What happened during the three to four hours between the time of the shooting and when police were called? The whole case made no sense.

Dr. Garrett J. Boone, the Butler County coroner, said that all of the victims but one had been shot in the head. Police Chief George V. McNally said that four weapons, three pistols and a rifle, were found at the crime scene. All of the weapons had been fired. Police found thirty-one spent cartridges among the bodies. McNally described the suspect as a gun freak, and it is believed that all of them belonged to James. When interviewed by police, a neighbor said that James did a lot of target shooting and knew how to handle a gun. All eleven members of the Ruppert family were buried in Arlington Memorial Gardens in Cincinnati.

For weeks after the shooting, the killing spree was all that neighbors in Hamilton and Fairfield could talk about. Many of them were asking the same questions as police. Why? How?

Reverend John Roettele described the Leonard Ruppert family as a fine family and active in their church. Neighbors, workmates, and schoolmates all described the large family as outgoing and gregarious. Leonard had no criminal record, and the police had never been called to their Fairfield home. The children, who attended Sacred Heart School, were well liked by their classmates and were good students. There was simply no indication that there was a troubled member of their family. Leonard never mentioned his brother’s troubles to anyone. No one offered help, because no one knew that James was in a difficult situation—a classic case of appearances being deceiving.

The case went to the grand jury in early April. Ballistic evidence was sent to BCI (Ohio Bureau of Criminal Investigation) for examination. While Ruppert was in jail, his attorneys, Hugh Holbrock and Joseph Bressler, had him examined by both a psychologist and a psychiatrist. A sanity hearing was subsequently scheduled for May 12, 1975. Meanwhile, police continued to wonder why neighbors had heard no shots.

Ruppert pleaded innocent by reason of insanity. Professional psychiatrists and psychologists gave testimony during the sanity hearing, and Ruppert was found paranoid but able to stand trial. One psychiatrist testified that Ruppert was in a paranoid psychotic state. One symptom, the psychiatrist testified, was departure from reality in terms of thinking and behavior. The professionals also said that Ruppert had engaged in discussions with them that were normal and that he had the ability to recognize time and space. He spoke in a rational and organized manner. On the eve of the trial, set for June 16, 1975, Ruppert signed a jury waiver. He would be tried by a three-judge panel: Judge Fred B. Cramer, Judge Robert L. Marrs, and Judge Arthur J. Fiehrer.

The official trial started on June 16. In his opening statement, Butler County prosecutor John Holcomb stated that the murders had been motivated by money; that with his entire family gone, Mr. Ruppert would inherit $300,000, the family fortune. The prosecutor also called Ruppert’s insanity defense a scheme. He continued his opening statements by laying out the prosecution’s case, laying the groundwork for the evidence that was to be presented. On opening day, fourteen witnesses gave testimony. On Monday, the three judges toured the home on Minor Avenue to get the layout of the crime scene. As the trial continued, evidence in the form of photographs, spent cartridges, clothing, and weapons were introduced into the court record. Dan Cappy, a blood expert, testified that three types of blood—A, B, and O—were found and that all three types were represented among family members. Fingerprint experts stated that prints lifted from the revolvers matched those of the defendant. The defense did not counter any of the evidence that the prosecution presented. Ruppert sat quietly in court as evidence was presented to the judges. Gaylord Morris Jr. and Donald A. Schwab both testified as to the financial holdings of Leonard Ruppert. The defense