The Poisonous Mr. Drescher

Most poisoning cases--particularly serial poisonings--can be unusually murky and confusing crimes, particularly if no obvious motive is found.  A particularly stellar example is the following case, which, while nearly forgotten today, was a justifiably famous mystery in its time.

Our toxic little tale opens in the fall of 1914, in the ostensibly peaceful area of Owen County, Indiana.  Charles Surber, who was running for the job of Owen County recorder, received in the mail a sample of a substance labeled as quinine.  There was no name on the typewritten return address, just a location in Indianapolis.  Surber took some of the “quinine,” and instantly regretted it.  He fell horribly ill, but, fortunately, managed to pull through.  Tests showed strychnine in his system.  When his anonymous gift was analyzed, it was found that the quinine had been heavily doctored with the poison.  Although the poisoner was never identified, Surber believed the culprit was the same anonymous person who had been circulating typewritten letters accusing him of being unfit to serve as county recorder.  When the election for recorder was held a month later, Surber beat out his opponent--48-year-old Francis Drescher, the acting coroner for Owen County--and went on with his life.

Other county residents were not so fortunate.  Over the next seven months, a number of other Owen County residents received similar anonymous samples of “quinine” sent from Indianapolis.  Those unlucky enough to partake of these samples all felt the dreadful effects of strychnine poisoning.  Several of them died.  Owen County had a serial poisoner on their hands.  But who was sending these seemingly random packets of death, and why?

On the evening of June 2, 1915, Francis Drescher sent his two children, 15-year-old Mary and Francis Jr., 12, to the movies.  That left him temporarily alone in the house, as his wife Estella was visiting relatives.  When Estella returned home around 8 p.m., she found Francis lying face-down in the library, quite dead.  On an end table was a note in Francis’ handwriting which began, “I ate a radish and my heart has broken.  It hurts me today.  Pocketbook.  Goodbye, mom and children.”  

Although trace amounts of strychnine were found in Francis’ blood, the cause of his death remained uncertain.  The autopsy found no strychnine in his stomach, which led to the theory that Francis had injected himself with the poison.  However, no needle was found near his body.  Public opinion remained convinced that he had somehow committed suicide, particularly after it was revealed that the coroner had secretly been the prime suspect in the “poison by mail” crimes.  In fact, just before Francis died, a post office inspector had arrived in Owen County in order to question him about the matter.  The general assumption was that Francis had somehow learned of this, and resolved to “cheat the hangman.”  Drescher’s family, however, noted that he had suffered a bad bout of food poisoning shortly before his death, which they believed brought on heart failure.

"Indianapolis Star," June 4, 1915, via Newspapers.com

The accusation that Drescher had been a human viper was strengthened when it came out that there was a long history of people unaccountably dropping dead around the genial coroner.  In September 1906, a young woman named Maude Clark, who worked as a nanny and maid for the Drescher family, suddenly went into convulsions and died in front of Francis--in fact, she expired with one hand clutching the hem of his pants.  Although O.F. Grey, the doctor who was summoned to the scene, immediately suspected poisoning, Francis convinced the coroner at the time, Dr. O.G. Richards, that an autopsy was unnecessary.  He explained that the girl was often depressed, and undoubtedly committed suicide.  Why publicize such sad details?

Soon after Maude’s mysterious death, Dr. Grey and his family ate their usual breakfast, after which they all became dangerously, although not fatally, sick.  A large amount of strychnine was later found in their sugar bowl.  Although Grey hired private investigators to find the person who tried to wipe out his entire family, the culprit was never identified.

In 1911, R.H. Richards, the Owen County treasurer, sent a deputy to collect some money Drescher owed the city.  Soon after that, Richards collapsed.  He had a very bad couple of days, but eventually recovered.  Doctors confirmed he had been poisoned, but, again, the would-be murderer remained unknown.

In June 1912, one Frank Mason became ill, and was placed in the local Odd Fellows Lodge.  Among the people who helped treat him was Francis Drescher, who was by then the acting coroner.  When Mason’s condition took a sudden, dramatic turn for the worse, Dr. Grey was called in.  Although Mason was having trouble speaking, he managed to gasp out to Grey, “I’m poisoned, Doc, quick, get it out of me.”  And then he died.

A small packet of strychnine was found in Mason’s room.  Drescher ruled that the man had obviously committed suicide, and that was that.

Six months later, a young Owen County woman named Alice McHenry came down with a headache, and took some quinine which she had recently received in the mail from some anonymous benefactor.  Soon afterwards, Alice went into convulsions, and died within the hour.  When Coroner Drescher arrived on the scene, he stated that Alice had suffered a cerebral hemorrhage.   Nothing to see here, move on.

One day in 1913, a traveling salesman named D.H. Johnson staggered into an Owen County hardware story asking for help.  He then fell to the floor and died in convulsions.  Francis, who happened to be nearby at the time--how convenient!--said the poor man died of heart failure.

After Francis’ death, an Owen County widow, Mrs. Strouse, went to the police with an unsettling story.  After her husband had suddenly and mysteriously died in 1914, Francis--who had conducted the man’s funeral--asked her if she lived alone.  A few days later, she received in the mail a sample of quinine.  After the “medicine” made her dreadfully ill, she brought the rest of the quinine to authorities, who found that it contained strychnine.

Owen County’s impressive body count continued.  In June 1914, one Thomas Karns died suddenly in his home.  Although he had been in perfect health and had no history of heart trouble, Coroner Drescher ruled he died of “mitral valve insufficiency.”  Within that same period of time, at least seven other county residents inexplicably dropped dead.  Drescher ruled all of these deaths were due to “heart failure.”  He took to immediately embalming the bodies before anyone had time to request an autopsy.

All of this made the late Mr. Drescher look like quite the busy Death Angel.  However, no solid evidence was ever found tying him to all these bizarre and quite untimely deaths.  The only possible motive anyone had come up with for him to turn mass poisoner was that, as an undertaker, he wished to drum up business!  And for those convinced of Drescher’s guilt, there was the inconvenient fact that well after he died, at least three more Owen County residents were mysteriously poisoned with strychnine.  Additionally, at least some of the poisoned quinine had been sent from Indianapolis at times when Drescher was indisputably at home.

Despite all these lingering questions, after Drescher’s highly suspicious death, local authorities found it convenient to just let their investigations quietly fizzle, leaving a remarkable true-crime muddle behind them.