Tuesday, November 6, 2012

CORONET Magazine (Digest)

Published June 1953


The Madman of Mattoon

Women lived in fear of the phantom who seemed to haunt this Illinois town

by Reed Millard

One September night in 1944, eight state police cars converged on what had once been a quiet, peaceful Illinois community of 17,000 people. What they discovered there ended the desperate search for the man who had thrown a city into panic, baffled detectives and astounded scientists. The almost incredible story has given the name of Mattoon, Illinois, a unique place in the history of American crime--and in textbooks on sociology and psychology.

The police got a hint of the terror to come on the night of September 2nd, when they received a frantic call from a hysterical woman. "My friend--a man tried to kill her with poison gas!" she cried.
A squad car screamed to the scene and the victim of the strange attacked gasped out her story. She had been alone, her husband working on the night shift at a nearby factory. At about midnight she awakened "with a feeling I was being suffocated...The room was filled with a peculiar sickish odor like sweet smelling flowers. I tried to get up but my legs seemed paralyzed. Finally, I crawled to the telephone and called next door..."

Patiently the patrolman examined the window screen, which seemed to be properly in place. With equal care, he checked the doors, noting the fact that one was unlocked. He went outside and played his flashlight carefully on every part of the yard. There were no recently made depressions on the damp earth and grass.

Then he went back to talk to the still distraught woman. "Maybe," he suggested to the victim, "you just had a bad dream."

The woman shook her head. "I was gassed," she said positively. "I'm still sick."

"You didn't see anybody?" the patrolman persisted.

This time there was some hesitation before the admission, "No, but I know there was someone there."

His questioning getting him no place, the officer urged the woman to go back to bed.

The whole thing was puzzling, he had to admit, but he filed a routine report and dismissed it as the sort of zany happeneing that every policeman encounters.

The next day the telephone at police headquarters rang with calls reporting two similar incidents. And three nights later there came a call that again sent a patrol car racing along darkened streets. The policeman who rushed into the house found a hysterical woman, apparently partly paralyzed and violently ill. Her story checked exactly with the one reported earlier.

The harried police had no sooner finished their checkup of this curious repeat performance, when a third call sent them to another address. Again, they found a paralyzed woman who sobbed out the now familiar account.

Doubting the possibility of a strange marauder being abroad in this peaceful neighborhood, the police could only shrug their shoulders and put it down as a bizarre, but insignificant, episode. A search of the area in daylight turned up no clues, and the women, though no longer hysterical, could do no more than repeat their descriptions of the strange "sickish sweet" gas.

However, the police soon had reason to take a grimmer view of what had happened. Whoever--or whatever--was stalking the city was apparently hurrying swiftly through one section of town after another, making his weird attacks.

Alarmed, Chief C. E. Cole summoned the town's entire force of ten policemen to meet what was developing into an emergency. Yet, though a dozen women reported identical assaults, not a single helpful clue was turned up.

Chief Cole began to suspect, almost hope, that the women, often alone and jittery anyway, had smelled the fumes of chemicals from a nearby war plant.

Impossible, the manager snorted.

"There's no gas escaping. We've been operating for years; surely it would have been noticed before."

Doctors examining the victims also shook their heads at the explanation. Unquestionably, some of the women <I>had</I> been paralyzed.

The next night the Chief's theory took another blow--and the case got its first break. One terrified woman screamed over the telephone, "I saw him!"

When the squad car arrived, she calmed down enough to describe what had happened. An unfamiliar sound had awakened her, and in the shadowy outline of the window she had caught a glimpse of a dark figure. He seemed to be pumping something like an insecticide sprayer. Then she smelled the mysterious gas, and screamed.

The marauder turned and ran, but as he did, she saw that he was tall, thin, apparently dressed in black. He was, she was sure, wearing a black skull cap. The next night, police got another baffling clue. This time, the victim was drinking coffee with her husband when she happened to glance out the window. On the porch she saw a piece of white cloth with what appeared to be a red stain on it. She went out and picked it up.

Almost as if compelled to do so, she held it up to her nose, then staggered and screamed. Her husband rushed out to find her lying on the floor. She was rushed to a doctor, who reported that she appeared to be partially paralyzed.

Later, she told questioning police, "It was as if a charge of electricity ran through me. It burned--but I couldn't move."

Here at least was a tangible exhibit, the first actual object that might be connected with the macabre events. Perhaps the piece of cloth had been left here by the phantom, after he saturated it with the paralyzing chemical he used.

The Illinois Criminal Investigation Laboratory rushed down a chemical expert, Richard T. Piper. After studying and analyzing the cloth, he decided that it might have been soaked with a substance called chloropicrin, but he wasn't sure. However, Piper had to admit that he was mystified, for if chloropicrin was involved, it did not seem that this would explain the paralyzing effect of the rag. FBI experts expressed similar bewilderment.

Meanwhile terror stalked Mattoon, for the weird attacks on women increased. In a single night, 7 calls came in. The town's policemen, hollow-eyed from lack of sleep, were given no rest. The Department was deluged with calls from citizens demanding protection. Reporters swarmed in from news services and big Chicago dailies.

Soon, angry, worried citizens acted to take the law into their own hands. Cars filled with men carrying shotguns began to prowl the streets. Neighbors organized their own vigilante squads to patrol groups of houses.

When frantic businessmen planned a mass meeting to discuss the thing that was happening to their town, Thomas Wright, police commissioner, gave them warning.

"If this goes on any longer," he said flatly, "somebody is going to get killed--and it won't be from gas. The people here are losing all control of themselves. They're getting hysterical. I wouldn't walk through anybody's back yard right now for $10,000."

Admitting that the local police were indeed at their wit's end, Commissioner Wright sent out an SOS to the state police. They took the affair as seriously as did the excited citizenry, for into Mattoon they rushed eight squad cars and a mobile radio unit.

Carefully Captain Harry Curtis, in charge of the contingent, planned a shrewd deployment so that one of his cars could arrive at any point in the city in a matter of seconds. Each was in touch with the others by two-way radio; if need be, all could converge on a single point almost instantly.

But Captain Curtis had other plans which he was not talking about, except to Mattoon police and a few citizens who would be needed to carry them out. One of them was Dr. B. Raymond Cole, who was ready at Memorial Methodist Hospital.

Tensely the officers waited for autumn darkness to fall. At 10 o'clock, the first call came. A frantic woman was crying the familiar words. "Help...help...I've been gassed...the madman..."

Smoothly the call went out to the nearest patrol car. Thirty seconds later it was in front of the house, where stern-faced state patrolmen rushed inside.

Picking up the hysterical woman, they raced to the hospital, where Dr. Cole stood waiting. He immediately examined the victim.

His report was an amazing one. "There is nothing wrong with her. Pulse normal. No temperature. No mouth burns. No indications of paralysis. I advise taking her back to her home."

She had hardly left the hospital when news of another attack reached the police. It occurred in a strange place--in a downtown theater. There, a woman suddenly screamed and collapsed on the floor. Officers entering the theater had to fight their way through a milling crowd of excited patrons.

This new victim was hurried into the hospital. Again Dr. Cole made the same quick appraisal, "Nothing wrong with her."

Through the evening, more of the frantic calls came in. Each time the frightened victim was examined, and each time the doctor's verdict was the same.

Finally, the calls stopped. The telephones at police headquarters would never ring again with a report of an assault by the phantom.

Who was the madman of Mattoon? The answer is as fantastic as it is simple. There never had been a madman who sprayed a strange gas at unsuspecting victims. He was a phantom that lurked only in the human mind.

Hysteria, pure and simple, had driven a town to the verge of civic insanity, with who knows what explosive consequences had not the authorities suspected and uncovered the true culprit--an almost unbelievably swift network along which spread the fearful rumor. Nothing more than this grapevine, combined with the impact of unreasoning fear on suggestible minds, had created the incredible affair.

Fortunately, the police guessed correctly that rushing victims to the hospital would provide sobering news, to be quickly spread on this fear-born communications system, jolting the potentially hysterical back to the senses.

Let no one scoff at the mad thing that happened in Mattoon. For it was a form of the same kind of crazy panic that sent people streaming out of big cities on the night of Orson Welles' "War of the Worlds" broadcast. It is a form of mass hysteria that psychologists warn could be a sinister tool for any enemy nation, fiendishly clever at using rumor and hysteria as a weapon.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Abnormal Psychology article, Part 2

Abnormal Psychology, Part 2

The "Phantom Anesthetist" of Mattoon

A Field Study of Mass Hysteria

Characteristics of the Susceptible

Sample: Thus far in our investigation we have treated the Mattoon affair as a social phenomenon. The next question, and perhaps the most important, concerns the individuals in the affair. Why were some people susceptible while their next-door neighbors were not? Phrased in more workable form the question becomes one of finding differences between the susceptible sample and the rest of the population of Mattoon. The experimental literature on suggestibility and the clinical literature on hysteria offered several attractive hypotheses for check, but the nature of the case put a distinct limitation on the methods which could be used. It was apparent from the first few interviews that the victims, while they would talk about the "gassing," and their symptoms, and similar superficial matters, would not be willing to cooperate in any inquiry directed toward, for example, unconscious motivation. They had been victimized twice: once by the concatenation of factors, environmental and personal, which produced the symptoms, and later by publicity and gossip, which carried the implication that people who have hysterical attacks are more peculiar, or less sincere, than their neighbors. For these reasons the best one could hope for was a description of the sample in respect of a few objective characteristics.
The 1940 Census Reports (8) give data on a number of characteristics of the Mattoon population; getting the same data for our sample would permit a comparison in these respects. Those characteristics were selected which seemed easy to verify and of possible significance for the present problem: age, sex, schooling, economic level, and occupation. Age was estimated and, in doubtful cases, checked by the estimates of acquaintances. To get a picture of the economic level of the sample four conveniences were used as indices: radio, mechanical refrigerator, electricity, and telephone. Percentages for the first three are given in the Census Reports. The number of residential telephones in Mattoon was kindly furnished by the manager of the local telephone agency, and the percentage computed in reference to the number of occupied dwelling units given in the Census Reports. The Census Bureau's descriptions of their occupational categories were studied before the interviewing began so that the necessary data could be obtained. For example, the Reports state specifically that railway brakemen are classed as "Operatives" while locomotive engineers and firemen are classed as "Craftsmen, Foremen and Kindred Workers." Furthermore in a small town like Mattoon the variety of jobs is limited and cross-checking is relatively easy. Hence placing the occupations of the sample into the Census Bureau's categories offered less difficulty than might be expected. A woman's occupation was used if she worked, otherwise her husband's. (Only two women had husbands in military service. One of these worked, hence her own occupation was used. In the other case the husband had been inducted only recently so his civilian occupation was used.) All these data are brought together in Table I for comparison with similar data for the total population of Mattoon.
TABLE I. 
The Sample of "Gasser" Victims Compared with the Total Population of Mattoon in Respect to Certain Objective Characteristics.
SEXPERCENTAGE OF SAMPLEPERCENTAGE OF POPULATION
Women9352
AGE
Below 10014
10-19018
20-293717
30-391615
40-492113
50-591610
60-69107
Over 7006
EDUCATION
Grade school only7158
Some high school2932
Some college010
INDICES OF ECONOMIC LEVEL
Electricity8095
Radio8091
Mechanical refrigerator2846
Telephone3360
OCCUPATIONAL CATEGORIES
Professional and semi-professional07
Proprietors, managers, and officials1613
Clerical, sales, and kindred workers3221
Craftsmen, foremen, and kindred workers516
Operatives3724
Laborers, farm laborers, and farm formen105
Domestic service05
Service workers, except domestic09
Statistically speaking, the sample is small; the number of cases on which the percentages in Table I are based varies from 14 for schooling to 29 for sex. The table includes, however, nearly all the cases in which physical symptoms were reported. The investigator checked police records and newspaper accounts for names and found a few others while interviewing. Two people could not be found at home despite repeated calls. three had left town. One would not talk to the investigator. Some of the data on these were obtained from acquaintances. Table I gives us at least a partial description of the people who were most intensely affected by the excitement.
To begin with, the sample has a much greater proportion of women than the general population of the city. This is in agreement with the laboratory studies on suggestibility (1) and the clinical reports on hysteria (5,6). All of the cases have been married but one, who was about twenty years old. As to the age data a word of explanation is necessary. In three cases mothers reported that their children had been "gassed." Since the investigator did not talk to the children apart from their mothers, these cases were eliminated. In two of these cases the mothers reported symptoms for themselves also, hence it is only the age data which are affected. Aside from the absence of children the most noticeable difference between the sample and the population is the surplus in the age group 20 to 29. The significance of this, if it is not accidental, is not obvious.
Since children are more suggestible than adults (1), why were there not more children in the sample? Many children probably did accept the suggestion in the sense that they reported to their parents that they saw the "gasser" or smelled gas. While the dynamics of symptom-formation are not well understood and may be different in each case, it does seem likely that adults would be more inclined to the withdrawing, incapacitating sort of symptoms which appeared in this "epidemic" than children. In the case reported by Schuler and Parenton(7) among high-school children the symptoms were of a more positive, lively nature.
In education the sample is below the total population. This too might have been predicted from the literature on suggestibility.
From the economic indices it seems clear that the sample is less prosperous than the population at large, at least in respect to these four conveniences. The investigator also classified the sample into the economic groups A, B, C, D, according to a widely used scheme based on the location and appearance of the home, occupation, conveniences, and the like. (The investigator has had some experience in using this scheme in consumer research for the Psychological Corporation.) In terms of these categories the sample was about equally divided between the C and D groups. There were two cases which could possibly have been put into the B group. It is noteworthy that no attacks occurred in either of Mattoon's two high-income areas.
Our sample, then, is characterized by low educational and economic level. These two characteristics go together in our culture. In a study similar in some respects to the present study Cantril (2) found that those people who were most strongly influenced by the Orson Welles 1938 broadcast, "War of the Worlds," were likewise of low educational and economic level. No doubt it is education which is more directly related to suggestibility. Cantril found that the better educated were more critical in that they made more and better outside checks on the authenticity of the broadcast and thus were less frequently panicked.
The data on occupation are not clear-cut since the categories used by the Census Bureau were not constructed for studies of this kind. As the number of cases on which good occupational data were available was only 19, the number in some categories was small, and some rearrangement was advisable. The category "Farmers and farm managers" was eliminated as there were none in the sample and less than 1 per cent in the general population. Professional and semi-professional classes were combined. "Laborers, except farm," was combined with "farm laborers and farm foremen." The category "Proprietors, managers, and officials" is a broad one which could include a wide variety of people, hence it is of little use to us. The proprietors of small shops and rooming houses.
As it stands Table I shows a lack of any professional or semi-professional people, which agrees with the data on educational level. A fairly clear-cut vertical comparison can be made if we consider the craftsmen and foremen as skilled workers, the operatives as semi-skilled, and the laborers as unskilled. The proportion of the sample in these three groups decreases--in comparison with the proportion in the population at large--as the amount of skill increases. It is hard to account for the lack of service workers and domestic service workers in the sample. The susceptibility of domestics might be influenced by their living arrangements and by contact with their employers, who in general are in the educated, high-income group. As to the other service workers, one explanation is that police, firemen, and hospital workers were in a sense "on the inside." Also, it is known that, while there has been little change in the Mattoon population in general since 1940, jobs connected with the servicing of automobiles have decreased considerably. But none of these "explanations" is very convincing.
The interviews, one can easily realize, were conducted under rather unfavorable conditions. It was not possible to get any insight into personality makeup of the victims except in a very superficial way. But it was possibly usually for the investigator to work in a few general questions about the victim's health. In only fourteen cases was any information obtained in this way, but, of these, eight, or over half, replied with such phrases as "always been nervous," "never sleep much," and "doctoring for nerves." We have no control data for the total population, but the percentage does seem extraordinarily high. The interview data do not go far, but they reinforce the diagnosis of hysteria and show, as far as they go, that, extraordinary as the Mattoon affair may be on the surface, psychologically it follows a familiar pattern.

Conclusions

Analysis of records available at Mattoon together with the results of interviews with most of the victims leads to the conclusion that the case of the "phantom anesthetist" was entirely psychogenic. There is always the possibility of a prowler, of course, and it is quite likely that some sort of gas could be smelled at various times in Mattoon. But these things do not cause paralysis and palpitations. Hysteria does. The hypothesis of a marauder cannot be supported by any verifiable evidence. The hypothesis of hysteria, on the other hand, accounts for all the facts.
What, then, produced this mass hysteria? There are some gaps in the story, to be sure, but a fairly clear picture can now be drawn. Mrs. A had a mild hysterical attack, an event which is not at all uncommon, which is, on the contrary, familiar to most physicians. The crucial point is that her interpretation of her symptoms was rather dramatic--a quick look through any textbook (e.g., 5, 6) will convince any reader that hysterical symptoms usually are dramatic--arousing the interest of the press, with the result that an exciting uncritical story of the case appeared in the evening paper. As the news spread, other people reported similar symptoms, more exciting stories were written, and so the affair snow-balled.
But such acute outbursts are necessarily self-limiting. The bizarre details which captured the public imagination at the beginning of the episode became rather ridiculous when studied more leisurely. The drama of the story lost its tang with time and the absurdities showed through. For example, the volatility of the gas, which was such an asset in penetrating the physical barriers, became a liability when anyone tried to capture the gas and examine it. The facts seemed to evaporate as rapidly as the agent which produced them. At last the failure of the police and volunteers to find anyone or anything tangible (the best the news photographers could do was to pose women pointing at windows, babies crying, and men holding shotguns) combined with the statements of city officials in the paper produced a more critical public attitude. The attacks ceased. The critical attitude increased and spread, however, police business struck a new low. It is proper to say that the wave of suggestibility in Mattoon left a wave of contra-suggestibility in its wake. Objective records document this generalization.
Naturally the more suggestible people accepted the story at face value. Of these only a small percentage reported physical symptoms from "gassing," presumably because of some personal motivation toward, or gratification from, such symptoms. As might be predicted from psychological and psychiatric literature, those who succumbed to the "mental epidemic" were mostly women and were, on the average, below the general population in educational and economic level. This supports the above analysis and puts the "phantom anesthetist" of Mattoon, in some respects at least, into a familiar psychological pattern.

A Field Study of Mass Hysteria: Footnotes

by Donald M. Johnson, Ph.D.
  1. Bird, C. Social Psychology. New York: Appleton-Century, 1940.
  2. Cantril, H. The Invasion from Mars. Princeton, N.J.: Princeton Univ. Press, 1940.
  3. Goodman, L., and Gilman, A. The Pharmacological Basis of Therapeutics. New York: Macmillan, 1940.
  4. Janet, P. The Mental State of Hystericals. New York: Putnam's, 1901.
  5. Rosanoff, A.J. (Ed.) Manual of Psychiatry. New York: Wiley, 1920.
  6. Sadler, W.S. Theory and Practice of Psychiatry. New York: Wiley, 1920.
  7. Schuler, E.A., and Parenton, V.J. "A recent epidemic of hysteria in a Louisiana high school." J. Soc. Psychol. 17, 221-235, 1943.
  8. U.S. Bureau of the Census, 16th Census of the United States. Washington, D.C.: U.S. Gov't Printing Office, 1942.
  9. Illinois Daily Newspaper Markets. Paul L. Gorham, Leland Bldg., Springfield, Ill.

Abnormal Psychology article, Part 1

Abnormal Psychology

The "Phantom Anesthetist" of Mattoon

A Field Study of Mass Hysteria

by Donald M. Johnson, Ph.D.

The story of the "phantom anesthetist" begins in Mattoon, Illinois, on the first night of September, 1944, when a woman reported to the police that someone had opened her bedroom window and sprayed her with a sickish sweet-smelling gas which partially paralyzed her legs and made her ill. Soon other cases with similar symptoms were reported, and the police organized a full-scale effort to catch the elusive "gasser." Some of the Mattoon citizens armed themselves with shotguns and sat on their doorsteps to wait for him; some even claimed that they caught a glimpse of him and heard him pumping his spray gun. As the number of cases increased--as many as seven in one night--and the facilities of the local police seemed inadequate to the size of the task, the state police with radio-equipped squad cars were called in, and scientific crime detection experts went to work, analyzing stray rags for gaseous chemicals and checking the records of patients recently released from state institutions. Before long the "phantom anesthetist" of Mattoon had appeared in newspapers all over the United States, and Mattoon service men in New Guinea and India were writing home anxiously inquiring about their wives and mothers. After ten days of such excitement, when all victims had recovered and no substantial clues had been found, the police began to talk of "imagination" and some of the newspapers ran columns on "mass hysteria"; the episode of the "phantom anesthetist" was over.

Journalistically the story died in a few weeks. In the police records the last attack was reported on September 12. Scientifically, however, the episode demands attention as a fascinating psychological phenomenon. Only one case of a "mental epidemic" has been reported in recent years: an outburst of hysterical twitching in a Louisiana high school was described by Schuler and Parenton (7). They were unable to find any reference in the standard sources to hysterical epidemics in the United States for over forty years, and they raise the question whether these phenomena are disappearing. The writer, therefore, undertook an investigation of the Mattoon case, with two general aims: (1) to preserve, for the sake of the record, an accurate account of the events, and (2) to attempt an analysis of the psychological factors involved in these events. The investigation consisted chiefly of an analysis of the records in the Police Department and interviews with those who reported physical symptoms from the gas. The study was begun in the middle of September and continued until the end of the year, but most of the interviewing was done in October. All the work was done by the writer, who assumes responsibility for this report.

The Facts of the Case

Mattoon is a small Illinois city, located about 50 miles southeast of the center of the state. The population, according to the 1940 census, was 15,827, of which 98 per cent were native-born white. It is surrounded by rather prosperous farm land, and its economy is largely determined by this fact. In addition, it is a junction for the Illinois Central and the New York Central railroads, both of which maintain repair shops at this point. There are a few small industries, a shoe factory, a furniture factory, Diesel engine works, a foundry, and the like. All in all it is a fairly typical midwestern city. As a result of the war it has enjoyed a mild boom, but not an upsetting one.

The outlines of the story can be quickly set down as a background for discussion of specific questions. On September 1 about midnight Mrs. A had a friend telephone the police that she and her daughter had been gassed. The police found no signs of an intruder, but Mr. A reported that, when he came home about two hours later, he saw a man run from the window. The police were called again, and again they found nothing. The next evening the Mattoon Daily Journal-Gazette carried a front-page story on the "gas attack" and a headline: "ANESTHETIC PROWLER ON LOOSE." On the following day, Sunday the third, Mr. B reported to the police that he and his wife had had a similar occurrence. In the middle of the night of August 31--the night before Mrs. A's attack--he woke up sick, and retched, and asked his wife if the gas had been left on. When she woke up she was unable to walk. At first they had attributed these symptoms to hot dogs eaten the evening before. About the same time Mr. C, who works nights, told the press that his wife and daughter had likewise been attacked. The daughter woke up coughing and, when Mrs. C got up to take care of her, she could hardly walk. They did not suspect has until they read the papers next day. These two accounts appeared in the Mattoon paper on September 5, since no paper was printed on Sunday the third or Labor Day the fourth.

On the evening of September 5 two new attacks were recorded. Mrs. D came home with her husband about 10:30, picked up a cloth from the porch, smelled it, and reported that the fumes burned her mouth and lips so badly that they bled. Mr. E, who works nights, reported that his wife heard someone at the bedroom window, smelled gas, and was partially paralyzed by it.

On the sixth three more cases occurred, according to police records. On the seventh, none; on the eighth, four; on the ninth, five; and on the tenth, seven. This apparently was the climax of the affair, for no cases were reported on the eleventh, only one on the twelfth, and none thereafter. The symptoms reported were nausea and vomiting, palpitations, paralysis of the legs, dryness of the mouth and throat and, in one case at least, burns about the mouth. All cases recovered rapidly, hence there was little possibility for outside check on the symptoms. Four cases were seen by physicians, who diagnosed all cases as hysteria.

In at least three cases, so the testimony goes, the family dog "must have been gassed also" since he did not bark at the intruder.

Those who reported smelling the gas described it as "a musty smell," "sickish," "like gardenias," or "like cheap perfume." In some cases, though symptoms were reported, the gas was not smelled.

Police activity took several directions. Most important, probably, was the attempt to catch the "mad gasser" in flagrante delicto. The police answered all telephone calls as soon as possible and, when the state police came in the picture with modern radio equipment, were often able to surround a house, in the words of the Commissioner of Police, "before the phone was back on the hook." Despite all this and despite the amateur efforts of an excited citizenry no one was ever apprehended "in the act." Less direct procedures revolved around examination of a few objects found near houses where attacks had been reported, particularly chemical analysis of the cloth found by Mrs. D, and the usual round-up of suspicious characters. The results of these attempts were also negative. On the eleventh the Commissioner of Police put a note in the paper requesting that "roving bands of men and boys should disband," and that guns be put away "because some innocent person may get killed." About the same time the police adopted the policy of having the victims sent to a hospital for examination.

Gas or Hysteria?

Obviously something extraordinary took place in Mattoon, and for its explanation two hypotheses have been advanced. The "gasser" hypothesis asserts that the symptoms were produced by a gas which was sprayed on the victims by some ingenious fiend who has been able to elude the police. This explanation was disseminated by newspapers throughout the country, at the beginning of the episode at least, and it is widely believed in Mattoon at present. The alternative hypothesis is that the symptoms were due to hysteria.

The evidence for the "gasser" hypothesis comes from the reports of the victims concerning their symptoms, reports which are notoriously difficult to check. The fact that vomiting did occur was authenticated in a few cases by outside testimony but, since vomiting could produced by gas or hysteria or dietary indiscretions, the fact is not crucial. There is plenty of evidence from the police and other observers that the victims were emotionally upset by their experiences, but this too is not a crucial point.

Another difficulty with the "gasser" hypothesis is the self-contradictory demands it makes on the gas. In order to produce effects of the kind reported when sprayed through a window it would have to be a very potent stable anesthetic with rapid action, and at the same time so unstable that it would not affect others in the same room. It would have to be strong enough to produce vomiting and paralysis, and yet leave no observable after-effects. Study of a standard source on anesthetics and war gases (3) and consultation with medical and chemical colleagues at the University of Illinois indicates that the existence of such a gas is highly improbable. Chemists are extremely skeptical of the possibility that such an extraordinary gas could be produced by some "mad genius" working in a basement.

Several people reported seeing a prowler who might be the "anesthetist." This too is not an important matter since prowlers have been reported to the police in Mattoon once or twice a week for several years. And, of course, prowlers do not produce paralysis or dry throats.

A minor weakness in the gas hypothesis is the lack of a motive. No money was stolen, and the circumstances were such that there would be little gratification for a peeper.

The best evidence for the hysteria hypothesis is the nature of the symptoms and the fact that those cases seen by physicians--though there were only four-- were diagnosed as hysteria. All symptoms reported are common in hysteria and can be found in the medical literature for many years back. For example, here is a description of a mild hysterical attack dated about a hundred years ago. Janet (4) quotes it from Briquet:

I choose, for an example, what happens to a woman somewhat impressionable who experiences s quick and lively emotion. She instantly feels a constriction at the epigastrium; experiences oppression, her heart palpitates, something rises in her throat and chokes her; in short, she feels in all her limbs a discomfort which causes them in a way to drop; or else it is an agitation, a necessity for movement, which causes a contraction of the muscles. This is indeed the exact model of the most common hysterical accident, of the most ordinary hysterical spasm. The hypothesis of hysteria accounts for the rapid recovery of all victims and the lack of after-effects. It explains why no "gasser" was found in spite of mobilization of local and state police and volunteers. It accounts for the fact that nothing was stolen and that dogs did not bark. The objections to the hypothesis of hysteria come from the victims themselves--quite naturally--and from others who do not realize the intensity and variety of effects which are produced by psychological forces.

Some who like compromises may argue that these two explanations are not exclusive, that there may have been a "gasser" at first even though the later spread of the symptoms was a hysterical phenomenon. The "anesthetist" soon became scared and ceased his fiendish activities. We may grant the charm of compromise as a general thing but insist that the above arguments still hold--for the first part of the episode as well as the last. The hypothesis of hysteria fits all the evidence, without remainder.

Quantitative Data on Chronology

If we consider the whole affair as a psychogenic one, as a "mental epidemic" due chiefly to suggestion, the sequence of events takes on a particular significance, and fortunately a more-or-less objective chronology of the case is furnished by records of telephone calls to the Police Department. In the Mattoon Police Department the desk sergeant regularly records the date and time of all calls and a brief note of the nature of the call and subsequent police action. From these records calls specifically reporting a "gassing" were easily segregated. Another category of calls, usually designated as "prowler calls" by the police, was found to be useful. This designation means that someone phoned and reported that a man was acting strangely on the street, or that noises were heard on the back porch, and that, when the police answered the call, they could find no evidence of any damage or break-in. The records were broken down in this way for the period of the excitement and a few weeks before and after*

(*The writer is very grateful to Sgt. Edward Davidson for carrying out a day-by-day analysis of these records.) Figure I shows the trends which appear when these data are grouped into weekly intervals.

The "gasser" curve starts from zero, reaches a peak rapidly, and rapidly returns to the baseline, as one would expect. (The decline is actually quite sharp, as noted earlier, though in the figure it appears more gradual than the rise because of the grouping into weekly intervals.) The "prowler" curve rises and falls with the "gasser" curve, a parallel which cannot be merely coincidental. Since the police do not list a call as a "prowler" call if they find evidence of damage or entry, it is likely that these calls result, in many cases at least, from psychological causes operating in a vague or ambiguous perceptual situation. Thus, during a period of great excitement like a manhunt, when anticipation is intense, the number of "prowler" calls would increase.

Similarly, as the excitement subsides, the number of such calls would subside.

The most striking fact is that there were so few "prowler" calls in the last part of September and none whatever in October until just before Hallowe'en. This is very unusual, according to the police, and a check of the records for the same months in 1943 discloses no similar fluctuations. The only plausible explanation is that the lack of "prowler" calls results from the development of contra-suggestibility. After hearing of the "phantom anesthetist" and then of "imagination" and "hysteria," the people who ordinarily would have called the police when they heard a suspicious noise became critical and inhibited their "imagination."

   |
80 |            •
   |    •
60 |  •   •   •  
   |
40 |
   |
20 |
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0  |___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___|___|__
       6  13  20  27   3   10  17  24  1   8  15  22
            AUG.            SEPT.           OCT. 

Fig. 1. Analysis of Records of Telephone Calls to the Mattoon Police Department.
Gasser calls begin on September 2, increase rapidly, and decrease rapidly to zero. Prowler calls, which develop out of an unstructured situation, begin in this graph at their average level, rise with the excitement of the gasser episode, and fall to zero as contra-suggestibility develops. Total calls at the police station begin at the average level, rise with the increase in gasser activities, decline as contra-suggestibility develops, then return to the average level.

The curve for total calls is similar. Police business in general increased for a few weeks before coming back to normal.

In the light of the evidence presented thus far it seems proper to speak of a wave of excitement or a "mental epidemic" sweeping through Mattoon. The people who succumbed to the epidemic can be grouped into three classes according to the intensity of their response. In the first class are those who merely put off their evening stroll and locked their windows more carefully than usual. Such conduct would of course be called "sensible" and hardly requires any explanation, but it must be remembered that there were many in Mattoon--perhaps a majority--who completely ignored the incident. In the second class are those who reported to the police that they saw or heard a prowler. A report of this kind indicates a higher level of susceptibility since it means that suggestion enters into and complicates perception. The third class is made up of those who reported physical symptoms from "gassing." The occurrence of the physical symptoms indicates a high degree of suggestibility, on the average at least, and perhaps some constitutional predisposition to physical complaints as well.

Agencies of Communication

How was the suggestion carried to all these people so quickly and uniformly? There are three possibilities: direct face-to-face contact between victims, indirect conversation or gossip, and the newspapers. In talking to the victims the investigator attempted to determine when and how each had first heard of the "phantom anesthetist." The replies gave very little evidence of face-to-face contact. With the exception of four cases in which two people lived together and were "attacked" at the same time it seems that the victims were practically unknown to each other. The possibility of indirect contact through neighborhood chatting is a more likely one, and one which is difficult to check. The chief argument against this avenue of communication is that it takes time, and the "epidemic" spread rapidly. The cases were widely scattered throughout the town, and, as we shall see later, only about a third of the victims had telephones.

As a means of communication the newspaper is, of course, the most effective. According to 1941 figures (9) 97 per cent of Mattoon families read the Mattoon Daily Journal-Gazette every evening except Sunday. This is the only paper with a large circulation in Mattoon, and obviously it is the source to which most residents would turn for information in a case of this kind. It is necessary, therefore, to examine the Journal-Gazette's treatment of the story and to analyze its psychological influence.

The Mattoon Daily Journal-Gazette, which usually runs to about eight pages, resembles other small newspapers both in size and in editorial policy. In general its treatment of the news is conservative, and one would expect that its readers have confidence in its reliability. No one would consider it a "sensational" paper. When a headline "ANESTHETIC PROWLER ON LOOSE," appeared, therefore--as it did Saturday evening, September 2--it was no doubt taken at face value. The story which ran on the front page in a full column headed "Mrs. (A) and Daughter First Victims," was written as a straightforward news item. Including the headline it covered 47 square inches.* (*Measurement of newspaper space, as for our purposes, is not well standardized. In the present analysis the square inch is used, and the figures given include headlines and photographs as well as text. Those who like to think in terms of the column inch can halve these figures and get the length of a standard two-inch column which would contain the material.) In retrospect it makes rather interesting reading. The careful reader's eye is caught particularly by the word "First" in the heading, since only the one case is mentioned. Whether this was an instance of prophetic insight or merely an error is not known, but the word does now, and probably did then, arouse a tingle of anticipation.

On the next two days, Sunday and Labor Day, no paper was printed, but on Tuesday, the fifth, 26 square inches appeared on page six. On the sixth there were 40 square inches, including a headline, on the front page. On the seventh 29 square inches were used, including a headline, "MAD ANESTHETIST STRIKES AGAIN." No headline was used on the eighth and only 28 square inches of space. Objectively and in terms of newspaper space the excitement seemed to be dying down.

But note the first paragraph:

Mattoon's "mad anesthetist" apparently took a respite from his maniacal forays Thursday night and while many terror stricken people were somewhat relieved they were inclined to hold their breath and wonder when and where he might strike next.
Several attacks were reported that night, and on the evening of the ninth a three-quarter-inch headline was used, crowding the war news to a secondary position. In all, the story took up 51 square inches of space. Evidently the climax is approaching. Up to this point the reader is treated to an absorbing horror story--with a mysterious marauder whose "maniacal forays" increase in a fantastic crescendo, a frightful new scientific device for gassing the victims, and a succession of tantalizing clues. His interest may be aroused to the point where he participates in the manhunt--vicariously, through reading about the scientific investigations of the state crime-detection experts or trying out his own hunches, or actually, by following the police cars or patrolling the streets. In other cases it was not the thrill of the chase which was aroused but apprehension and fear. It was in these people that the hysterical symptoms appeared.

On the eleventh (the tenth was Sunday) the tone of the story, the headline contained the phrase "few real" and the treatment is critical. No headline was used on the twelfth and the keynote phrase was "hysteria abates"; the story took up 28 square inches. The next evening a comical twist is given to the affair, expanding it to 59 square inches about two false alarms which turned out to be a black cat and a doctor trying to break into his own office after he had forgotten his keys. On the fourteenth the account falls to 19 square inches, and next evening it is put back on page six with only 14 square inches, although a box of 10 square inches appeared on the front page telling how widely the story had been circulated.

The Journal-Gazette dropped the affair from this point to the twentieth, when an editorial was printed, apparently in reply to some ribbing by a Decatur paper. The editorial asserted that, although much of the excitement may have been due to hysteria, there really had been some odors in Mattoon--perhaps blown up from Decatur. With this epilogue the drama takes its leave from the columns of the Mattoon Daily Journal-Gazette.

Of the out-of-town newspapers the Chicago Daily Tribune and the Chicago Daily News have the largest circulations in Mattoon, with coverages of 24 per cent and 20 per cent respectively (9). The Tribune started the story on the sixth with 10 square inches each day thereafter until the fifteenth. The editorial viewpoint of the story became skeptical about the twelfth. The Daily News' treatment was similar except that it ran photographs and did not question the authenticity of the "anesthetist." These papers have enough circulation in Mattoon to have an important influence but, since they came in late and since their readers read the local paper also, their influence was probably merely one of emphasis and reinforcement.

The Chicago Herald-American, though its coverage in Mattoon is only about 5 per cent (9), handled the story most thoroughly and most sensationally. Its text and photographs were often cited to the investigator. It started late--on the eighth--with 41 square inches, including a photograph. The opening paragraphs of the front-page story which appeared on the tenth are worth quoting:

Groggy as Londoners under protracted aerial blitzing, this town's bewildered citizens reeled today under repeated attacks of a mad anesthetist who has sprayed a deadly nerve gas into 13 homes and has knocked out 27 victims. Seventy others dashing to the area in response to the alarm, fell under the influence of the gas last night.
All skepticism has vanished and Mattoon grimly concedes it must fight haphazardly against a demented phantom adversary who has been seen only fleetingly and so far has evaded traps laid by city and state police and posses of townsmen.

By the eleventh the story was up to 71 square inches, including a 1-1/2-inch headline: "STATE HUNTS GAS MADMAN." On the twelfth it was given 95 square inches, with pictures of crying babies on the front page. After that the account becomes somewhat critical but continues to carry hints that the "gasser" may be a woman, or an apeman, and the like. On Sunday, the seventeenth, however, after the other papers had dropped the story, the Herald-American printed a long interview with a psychiatrist, Dr. Harold Hulburt, beginning at the top of the front page above the headline, and covering 196 square inches, with several photographs. This article discusses the dynamics of hysteria in general and includes some sympathetic conjectures regarding unconscious motives of Mrs. A. Further articles resulting from the interview with the psychiatrist appeared on the eighteenth and the twentieth. On December 3 The American Weekly, a Sunday supplement of the Herald-American, carried a full-page article by Donald Laird entitled "The Manhunt for Mr. Nobody."

The story was carried by the press services and was used or ignored by newspapers throughout the country according to their editorial policies. The New York Times, for instance, did not refer to it, while PM had 12 square inches on the seventh and 5 on the twelfth. The Stars & Stripes (London Edition) carried 7 square inches on the eleventh. Among the weeklies, Newsweek for September 18 carried 20 square inches, while Time for the same date carried 26. Both of these accounts were skeptical--Time was even sarcastic--but neither dared come to any definite conclusions. Time elevated the number of cases at the peak from seven to seventeen. Dispatch, a weekly of the Persian Gulf Command, gave it 13 square inches on the eighteenth.* *Radio treatment of the story was not considered important enough to warrant study. There is no radio station at Mattoon, and no one in Mattoon or elsewhere mentioned a radio account to the investigator. In general, radio editors treat these stories conservatively.

Striking evidence of the interest aroused by these accounts comes from the large number of letters and telegrams--estimated at about 300--which were received by Mattoon officials from all over the United States. The writer examined a sample of 30 of these and found half of them more-or-less sensible, though ill-informed, containing suggestions for capturing the "menace." The other half could be judged psychopathic--on the basis of ideas of self-reference, intensity of affect. and the combination of poor judgment with good vocabulary and expression. Paranoid trends were common.

Thursday, November 1, 2012

FORTUNE Magazine, Part 3

The View from the Business World

FORTUNE Magazine (part 3)

The Main Street Front
A Report on an American Community After One Year of War


Mattoon has no alien problem and there have been no hints of sabotage, no spy hunts, no hurry calls for the FBI. Crime and juvenile delinquency have not increased, though Chief Shirley picks up a few more drunks than usual on Saturday night. There is a shortage of doctors--four out of twenty-two have gone to the Army--and not enough nurses at the Memorial Hospital. Half the dentists in town have left for the services and an appointment to have a tooth filled must be made three weeks in advance. There are all sorts of minor inconveniences to put up with, annoying adjustments to make, but for the most part the citizens of Mattoon have not faced sacrifice and hardship yet. They do what is demanded of them, but they don't believe in giving up comforts and pleasures until they have to. So long as there is gas in the tank and rubber on the tires they are going to drive their cars. So long as there is liquor in the taverns they are going to drink it.
The new women bartenders in the Tap Room of the U.S. Grant Hotel have new red-white-and-blue uniforms, and being a bartender is a lot more fun than working in the kitchen because you get to meet a lot of people. Only the nicest class of people come in here, and nobody ever gets ugly or sassy ("though the nicest people can sometimes act the ugliest"). The Tap Room at the U.S. Grant is the only bar in town where there is much call for cocktails or bonded whiskey. At the Town Pump and the 115 Club and the Brown Jug the favorite drinks are beer and bourbon-and-coke or Calvert with a beer chaser.
All the bars and taverns have plenty of customers now but Lou's Rendezvous still packs them in the tightest on Saturday night. There are rows of cars parked beside Lou's big neon V-for-victory sign, high-school girls jitterbug to Lou's jukebox music, family parties eat their steaks and french frieds, and soldiers lean up against the long bar watching the girls in the mirror. Lou herself is slapping her friends on the back and shouting with laughter, keeping one eye on the kitchen and one on the crowd in the new knotty-pine paneled dining room. She's doing a good business and she's making money. But the war and one thing and another are beginning to get her down. "It's my nerves, I guess," she says, relaxing over a scotch. "Maybe I'll quit the whole thing and join the WAACs."
There is a lot of drinking in Mattoon, there are a lot of neon signs and jukeboxes, and everybody is having fun. "Having fun" has come to be an important part of life--where a few years ago the W.C.T.U. and the ladies-aid societies dictated the morals and mores. There are still "good" people in Mattoon, but for many having fun means playing poker or bridge, drinking, dancing and playing the slot machines at the Country Club, "pitching a party out to the lake," gambling either at home or in one of the illegal gambling joints. There is no recognizable house of prostitution in Mattoon but a soldier, or a civilian for that matter, can usually find a local girl or a "visitor down for the weekend."
Until gas rationing went into effect, having fun also meant driving up to Chicago or St. Louis or any one of a dozen nearer towns, driving just for the hell of it at seventy or seventy-five miles an hour ("they'd pass you if you kept it down to sixty-five") along the straight and level concrete highways. Gas rationing is going to affect business in Mattoon--the majority of the thirty-nine filling stations will shut down, stores and hotels will lose some of their trade--but most of all gas rationing is going to put a crimp in having fun. "I'd rather put my car up than drive thirty-five. My nerves won't stand it."
Nobody paid any attention to the voluntary forty-mile-an-hour limit last summer, but the law is going to keep them down to thirty-five now. About the only people who won't be affected are the Amish farmers up north of town who never believed in cars anyhow and have always driven along the tractor-scarred dirt roads in their closed buggies. Women have bought slacks and are learning to ride their daughters' bikes. Paunchy businessmen are trying to pretend that they'd always intended to walk to work anyway. People are accepting gas rationing. But they don't like it.
There is plenty of griping, mostly from the many who have been confused by conflicting statements from Washington. The Baruch Committee report and Mr. Jeffers's announcements are just more of the same to most of the people of Mattoon. There's plenty of gas, they say, and just because Easterners can't get it they don't want us to have it. If it weren't for the politicians, they say, if it weren't for Wall Street, plenty of synthetic rubber could be made. It's a lot of politics, international politics, to keep the market for the British.
There is all that kind of griping, and there are complaints that the other fellow is chiseling, that the other dealer has a priority drag, that the big shots can get what they want. But under it all and around it all is the feeling that it's all right if it will help win the war. The griping isn't unpatriotic, it's being from Missouri. The same worker who says it's a lot of politics to ration gas has tried to volunteer in the tank corps. The businessman who says plenty of rubber could be made tomorrow if Roosevelt hadn't sold out to Churchill gives all his spare time to selling war bonds. The woman who grumbles that meat rationing is ridiculous because she's seen plenty of fat hogs and steers right here in Coles County works every day for the Red Cross. They don't want anybody to get away with anything, but if they are convinced that something they can do will help win the war, they'll do it. "If one meatless day helps," says Pete Sutter, the Greek restaurant owner, "I'd just as soon have all meatless days."

FORTUNE Magazine, December 1943

The Herald-American Hires an Alienist

The Herald-American Hires an Alienist

The Chicago Herald-American

Alienist Declares Mattoon Attacks 'Fear Contagion'

BY EFFIE ALLEY
MATTOON, Ill. Sept. 18 -- What caused Mattoon's reign of terror?
When hysteria sweeps a large number of people there may be other forces at work than fear, according to Dr. Harold S. Hulbert, psychiatrist, who for the first time in history is psychoanalyzing an entire community and diagnosing its illness. The most important of these, Dr. Hulbert says, is SUGGESTIBILITY--that is, the accepting by one person of the ideas and emotions of another. Now take the case of Mrs. Carl Cordes of 921 N. 21st st., who was overcome when she picked up a cloth on her front porch on the evening of Sept. 5 four days after the phantom gas-sprayer had first made his appearance in Mattoon. Like all the other victims, Mrs. Cordes answered the doctor's questions readily, described her symptoms in detail and told all the circumstances of the attack. She began by saying:
"I know I'm a very nervous person. I haven't been well in some time, but I know I didn't imagine this. It was real. I'm sure of that." The cloth, which was clean, lay on the front porch neatly folded when she first saw it. Thinking that one of the neighbors had wrapped something in it and placed it there, she picked it up. Surprised at finding it empty and noticing a round wet-looking splotch in the center, she involuntarily put it to her nose and smelled. She was over come. She said:
"It went through me like an electric shock. My legs got numb to the knees, my mouth was like it had been scalded with a hot cup of coffee and my nose and throat were awfully sore for two days afterwards.
"No, it didn't bother my eyes." This gave the doctor the clue he needed and after thanking Mrs. Cordes, we left. Gas? The doctor answered:
"No--couldn't have been. Remember the eyes. They couldn't have escaped a volatile, poisonous gas." What then? Mrs. Cordes is a nice woman. A sincere woman, pleasant to deal with. She wouldn't have made this up?
The answer is, of course, that she didn't make it up.

UNCONSCIOUS VICTIM

She was a victim of suggestibility. Unconsciously, she accepted the ideas and emotions of others. She had heard about the gas man. Indeed, he and his depredations were on every one's tongue. Suggestibility is heightened during times of unusual strain. It is especially marked, Dr. Hulbert says, in two groups of people--those not in a sturdy state of health and those whose mental makeup predisposes them to dread: the type of persons who might think "Wouldn't it be dreadful if that gas man came here" and thus launch themselves on a whole train of imaginings as to the dire results of such a visitation. But does suggestibility account for the very real illnesses, pains and bodily discomforts these people suffered? Again the doctor answers yes--suggestibility plus certain rather mysterious tricks that mind and body can perform under stress. Dr. Hulbert explains:
"At times when anxiety tension becomes too great, it is converted into bodily symptoms and the anxiety is thereby relieved. It's a good thing, too, because it helps people to live through some pretty tough spots. It may result in an increase, decrease or distortion of any function of the body. "Remember that fear--you can call it whatever you want, anxiety, worry, insecurity--is at the bottom of all this business. "People tell us they were sick at the stomach, nauseated, vomiting. That was a conversion under stress accompanied by increase of function. Their legs were numb or paralyzed, or so weak as to cause them to stagger--a decrease of function. Some reported heavy beating of their hearts--another increase. Some light-headedness or dizziness--decrease again. "Notice, that no two reported an identical series of symptoms. Similar, yes, but not exactly the same. That is significant, too--"

IT WASN'T GAS

The doctor broke and we put in:
"But, they really were sick, weren't they?"
Whereupon the doctor exploded:
"Of course they were sick "They smelled things, too--our houses are always full of odors and they are coming in from outside all the time. But they weren't smelling poison gas and they weren't sick from it. That is the point." -- Monday, September 18, page 1, 2
(Further details of psychoanalysis of Mattoon gas hysteria in tomorrow's Chicago Herald-American.)

Credulity Seat of Mattoon's Terror

BY EFFIE ALLEY
MATTOON, Ill. Sept. 19 -- Theme song of panic is "I believe!"
I believe this, I believe that. I believe the neighbors, the children, total strangers. I believe anything anybody wants to tell me. This will to believe, according to Dr. Harold S. Hulbert, psychiatrist investigating the case of Mattoon's phantom gas man, is not only the hallmark of mass hysteria, but also the chief means by which the infection of fear is spread through a community.

ADD NEW DETAILS

One believes and tells another. This other passes on the story--and the infection--to one or two or maybe three and each new believer unwittingly adds new details. When Mattoon's scare first started nobody saw or even thought they saw the "mad anesthetist". At first, he moved about his work unseen, virtually unheard. Then here and there people appeared who had heard a hissing noise as of a spray gun. By the time the phantom got around to paying a stealthy visit to the home of Mrs. Bertha Bence at 2605 Champaign av., not only the clump of his approaching feet could be heard, but also the whirring noise of his "gas machine" in action. Dr. Hulbert's interview with Mrs. Bence was enlightening. Still upset by her experience, Mrs. Bence first told the doctor that she isn't well and then added:
"I just can't stand all this excitement. And then I'm worried about my oldest boy. That's his picture there--he's overseas and I haven't heard from him since July."
Had she made any inquiries about him?
"Oh, yes. I've been to the fortune-teller. She says he's in the hospital. She says I mustn't worry too much. I can't stand it."
And now about the gas attack.

HEARD FUNNY NOISE

Well, she had gone to bed in the front room. All at once, she heard a funny noise like a machine whirring and the room began to fill with gas. Believing she was "passing out", she screamed and her three boys came running and helped her out on the porch. "We stayed out there till 4 o'clock in the morning. I was afraid to come back. That stuff would kill you. Junior said if he had got another whiff of it, he would have died. He has asthma. He'd have died if he'd smelled that stuff another minute."
When the police came, could they smell it, too?
"No, I don't know why, but they couldn't. It's funny though. My neighbor could and she didn't get here till after they had gone. But she could smell it--plain. And a boy who had been to five other places could. He said it smelled just the same. Just exactly the same.
"Junior chased the fellow that night but he couldn't catch him. The next day, though, we found four little holes in the earth under the window where he had set up his machine." Why would the gas man want to attack her?
"Well, sir, that's something I just can't figure out. It couldn't have been money. We haven't got any. Everybody knows that. I guess it's sabotage--or an escaped German. And I'm afraid he'll be back." There was terror in her voice as she said it. Why the trail of sabotage should have led to her neat little home or why a fleeing Nazi should take time to indulge in such risky practices were things Mrs. Bence just hadn't thought about. There, said the doctor afterwards, you have the picture of the whys and wherefores of community terror. A woman so honest and well-meaning herself, she is completely uncritical of others or what they tell her. Deeply troubled, far from rugged, a woman of this type, according to Dr. Hulbert, is a typical example of the basically insecure and hence, the highly suggestible person--ripe to become a victim of terror at the slightest stimulus. A prey of constant fears, she seeks reassurance, even in the visions of a fortune-teller, who would "tell more for a dollar" as Mrs. Bence so frankly said than for the 50 cents she had to spare.

WARTS ON FACE

And yet, one wonders. For the climax of that credulity which serves so well to keep alive and to spread community hysteria was reached in the story told police by that very fortune teller, Mrs. Edna James, the only prop on which Mrs. Bence in her anxiety had to lean. Mrs. James maintained she had not only smelled the sickening perfume-like gas, but saw its sprayer, crouched "ape-like" with his spray-gun in his hands staring at her with evil, yellow eyes. The light was faint, she said, but it was enough to reveal an ugly face made more repulsive by the presence of warts! -- Tuesday, September 19, page 5

Mattoon's Phantom 'Suggestive Fear'

BY EFFIE ALLEY
MATTOON, Ill. Sept. 20 -- No gas maniac, no noxious, paralyzing vapor, but rather paralyzing fear, rising to the surface from the deep-rooted insecurity of one woman and spread through a community by the power of suggestion--that's the scientific explanation of Mattoon's two week's reign of terror as given by Dr. Harold S. Hulbert, Chicago psychiatrist, after a thorough investigation involving the psychoanalysis of the entire city. If the epidemic of fear was spread only by suggestion, how does the doctor account for the attack reported by Mrs. Beatrice Ryder? The doctor's own investigation showed that all the excitement was touched off by the experience of Mrs. Bert Kearney, first victim of the phantom prowler.

HEARD NO GOSSIP

How then does he explain the fact that Mrs. Ryder suffered a similar attack the same evening well before anybody had any idea that a sinister sadist was loose in the city? As Mrs. Ryder said when she saw Dr. Hulbert:
"This couldn't have been imagination because I'd heard no gossip nor read anything in the newspapers." To anyone but a psychiatrist, this might seem unanswerable. But to a man trained in the foibles and tricks of the human mind, it is much less convincing than it seems, though none-the-less interesting. So far as the doctor is concerned, Mrs. Ryder's is simply a case of retrospective rationalization.

DID NOT CALL POLICE

Though today she is a very frightened woman, believing as she does that the "prowler" will return to "finish the job", she was NOT frightened at the time the supposed attack occurred. This is evidenced, not only by her conduct on the evening in question, but by the fact that she did not call the police. Here, in brief, is Mrs. Ryder's account:
On the evening of Sept. 1, she was alone with her two small children, Ann, 5, and Joe, 2, who were asleep in the middle bedroom. Her husband, George, a postal clerk, was at work.
Like Mrs. Kearney, she too happened to have an unusual sum of money in the house that night--the proceeds of her husband's pay check. She was apprehensive about it, enough so to notice unusual noises--but, unlike Mrs. Kearney, not in a state of actual fear.

DOOR, WINDOWS CLOSED

Her uneasiness may have been enough to bring on a digestive upset. At any rate, she had one. After drinking "several pots" of coffee and taking a dose of medicine, her distress increased until finally, as she said, she "popped her cookies."
Notice that even then, the gas man did not appear.
After this incident, she went into the bedroom where the children were to lie down. Both door and windows had been closed because the baby had a cold. No sooner had she got into bed than she heard a strange noise--a kind of "plop"--noticed a strange odor and experienced a strange "floating" sensation accompanied by numbness of the legs and fingers.

BABY STARTED COUGHING

Then the baby started coughing and after the fashion of all mothers, Mrs. Ryder ignored her own malaise in taking care of the child. She carried to the kitchen where she rubbed camphorated oil on its chest. Was this, then, an attack by Mattoon's gas-spraying phantom? Mrs. Ryder firmly believes it was. Here is the doctor's answer:
"Yes, she believes it NOW and as a consequence is still in terror. But she didn't believe it THEN. It was only later, after she had heard of the supposed attack on Mrs. Kearney, that such a possibility entered her head." After the main outlines of a fearsome picture had been supplied by others, it was all-too-easy to go back, weave in retrospective details and make them fit. Easy to take the circumstances of her own illness and its symptoms, add to them a strange noise and the smell of a stuffy roof and come up with the answer Mattoon as a whole was giving in those days to every untoward happening. The vicious prowler and his vapor explained everything--even things that didn't need explanation. Continuing his analysis of the "case of the simultaneous attack," Dr. Hulbert said:
"This woman was not at all hysterical. On the other hand, her conduct was very ordered. She did not fly into a panic and call the neighbors or the police. The sensations of floating and numbness are not unusual following a vomiting attack, and when her child began coughing they were not so severe as to prevent her from taking care of it.
"If the next day Mrs. Ryder hadn't heard about the gas man, she would have remembered the night of Sept. 1 just as one of those times when everything seems to go wrong." -- Wednesday, September 20, page 5

Mattoon Terror Like Salem Witch Hunt

BY EFFIE ALLEY
MATTOON, Ill. Sept. 21 -- Mattoon's gas phantom can boast a long and 100 per cent American ancestry, dating back to the witch hunts of colonial days. According to Dr. Harold S. Hulbert, psychiatrist, who has just completed an investigation of Mattoon's epidemic of mass hysteria, the same forces which created the recent terror here have at one time or another manifested themselves in nearly every American community, sometimes with tragic, sometimes with comic results. All of which is just the doctor's way of saying that Americans are a suggestible people, quick to take up a fad or a fetish. He wants it made clear that while it lasted Mattoon's terror of the supposed gas-sprayer was a fad.

COULD BE GRAVE

Though fads of this kind are harmless enough, the same emotional forces which give rise to them may, when centered on a different object, create ugly and even grim situations. Take, for example, the earliest manifestations of this kind in America--the Salem, Mass., witch hunts.
It all began with two hysterical girls who accused a hunchback woman of having bewitched them and exhibited self-inflicted blisters and swellings to prove it.
A lot of people paid off their secret hatreds on the witches. The people of Rensselaer, Ind., in the year of our Lord, 1939, didn't, of course, believe in witches. But they did believe in lions, after farmers in the vicinity had reported mysterious killings of farm animals.

POSSES ORGANIZED

Dozens of armed posses were organized, expert big-game hunters called in, lions were seen here, there and everywhere in Jasper County. After a month's excitement, the big lion hunt came to a humiliating end with the killing of two dogs whose prints proved to be identical with tracks supposed to have been made by the marauding lions. As for police who have such a situation to deal with, Dr. Hulbert believes that they couldn't do better than follow the example of Mattoon's Police Commissioner Thomas V. Wright. When he gave every individual reporting an attack a choice of an immediate medical examination or a night in jail, the attacks ceased as if by magic. As the antidote for fear is trust, Dr. Hulbert points out that in any similar situation every effort should be made to build up the faith of the people in constituted authority. They should be assured and reassured that if there is a culprit at large, the police, using ordinary police methods, will soon have him under lock and key. And that, according to Dr. Hulbert, who is a criminologist as well as a psychiatrist, isn't just baloney. -- Thursday, September 21, page 5

Post Analysis by the Chicago Herald-American

Post Analysis by the Herald-American

The Chicago Herald-American

Psychoanalyze Mattoon to Find Cure for Terror Wave, Gas Victims Quizzed

BY EFFIE ALLEY
MATTOON, Ill. Sept. 16 -- Social and medical history is being made here today. For the first time anywhere a city is being psychoanalyzed. Fear-stricken, bewildered Mattoon is being placed under the scientific scrutiny of an expert in the hidden, subconscious causes of acute emotional tension--Dr. Harold S. Hulbert, psychiatrist and criminologist of Chicago. Terror, such as has gripped this comfortable and thriving little city during the past two weeks, causing its citizens to huddle nightly, behind locked windows and doors, is pathological. Whatever its cause, it is a symptom of community infection--an infection of fear.

CONTAINS THREAT

That this infection is mental and emotional rather than physical does not make it any the less dangerous. Indeed, it is fraught with much more ominous threats to the health of this community, and even to that of the nation, than the worst epidemic of bodily disease. It is a manifestation America is likely to see repeated time after time and with increasingly disastrous results here, there and everywhere in post-war days. For these reasons, The Herald-American has enlisted the services of Dr. Hulbert to diagnose this community illness, to get at its roots and to suggest a cure. Dr. Hulbert is interviewing victims who have detected in their homes the peculiar sweetish odor of the mysterious gas sprayed by a phantom night prowler: who have heard the sound of running feet, or caught glimpses of a shadowy, retreating form. By studying the time of each attack, the circumstances under which it was made, the symptoms induced--sometimes nausea, sometimes paralysis, sometimes choking and burning of the lips and throat. Dr. Hulbert will attempt to discover:
  1. Whether or not a real, flesh-and-blood culprit exists.
  2. To determine from the pattern of his attacks what manner of man (or woman) he is--sadist, maniac, or prankster.
  3. If he, perhaps, only initiated the whole business which is now kept going by imitators.
  4. In case the phantom proves to be a phantom in truth, what really happened and why.
Touched off on the evening of Sept. 1, when Mrs. Bert Kearney of 1408 Marshall av. reported she had been stricken by a mysterious flower-like gas which left her paralyzed and nauseated. Mattoon's reign of terror spread like wildfire. Thereafter scores of citizens called police to report that they, too, had been victimized. Armed patrols roamed the streets in the hope of catching the spray-gun prowler until Police Commissioner Thomas P. Wright, alarmed at the explosive possibilities of the situation, ordered them to put up their guns, go home and leave the hunt to the constituted authorities.

BRED BY FEAR

If it should turn out that there was no prowler and no gas, Dr. Hulbert will answer the question of why such obviously sincere and worthy citizens should have reported "imaginary" attacks, how they smelled a "gas" that did not exist and what caused the detailed symptoms of their distress--burning lips, swollen tongues and throats, sickness, prostration and all the rest. Mass hysteria is an ugly thing. It may be touched off by incidents of great or small importance, by actual or imagined danger. Bred by fear, it banishes reason and humor, the great stabilizers of human conduct. It heightens credulity and is accompanied by anger, confusion and hatred. And it often brings disastrous violence. Psychiatrists everywhere realize that post-war days hold special dangers of such outbreaks. They fear waves of food-poisonings, kidnappings and even murder. That is why the eyes of the scientific world will be riveted on the results of Dr. Hulbert's investigation of what is probably the first case of community war neurosis. In a sense, Mattoon today is a laboratory in which the causes and cure of community hysteria are being worked out.

WILL TALK TO VICTIM

In the course of his research Dr. Hulbert will confer with Commissioner Wright, Police Chief Eugene Coles, Health Commissioner Edward X. Link and other state and city authorities. He will also interview Mrs. Kearney, first victim, her sister Mrs. Edgar Reedy, Mrs. Dorothea Backer and her mother, Mrs. Norma Tatley, who detected the gas in their home on the night of Sept. 8, Mrs. Laura Junkin, who reported she was paralyzed by gas on Sept. 6, Mrs. Carl Cordes, who was overcome when she picked up a cloth she found lying on her front porch, Mrs. Bertha Bence, a later victim, Mrs. Cordie Taylor, who awoke from sleep one night to find her room full of noxious vapor, and others who had first-hand experience. -- Saturday, September 16, page 1, 2

Chicago Psychiatrist Analyzes Mattoon Gas Hysteria

BY EFFIE ALLEY
MATTOON, Ill. Sept. 16 -- Is it possible for an entire community to fall a prey to its own fears? To barricade itself nightly behind locked doors and windows against a non-existent madman and a noxious vapor which emanated only from the mind? To take up arms and to patrol the streets in search of nothing more substantial than a fear-bred phantom?
The answer is yes That is exactly what happened in Mattoon, according to the findings of Dr. Harold S. Hulbert, psychiatrist and criminologist, who at the request of The Herald-American made a scientific investigation of the wave of hysteria that has swept this city during the past two weeks. If gas and its sprayer had no existence in fact, were the people who reported attacks malingering? Did they seek to deceive? Did they want to cause trouble? Not at all. They are good, honest, sincere people. Not for one moment did they want to mislead anybody. But as Dr. Hulbert told Police Commissioner Wright in a conference at the close of his investigation, in times like these the soul of a community, like the minds and hearts of members, is troubled. He said:
"One way or another, everybody is afraid...afraid of sabotage, of the postwar world, of what may happen to their boys in the service. Fear upsets people, makes them unstable. That is why this thing didn't die out after the first day or so." Dr. Hulbert's diagnosis agrees with that of Health Commissioner Dr. Edward X. Link, who said yesterday that there is no scientific proof that any of the many victims showed symptoms of gas poisonings. Mattoon's terror began in a modest little tree-shaded home at 1408 Marshall av., rising suddenly out of the night to terrify a sweet, motherly woman and to throw her whole family into confusion. It was here, then, that Dr. Hulbert began his investigation. When Dr. Hulbert arrived in Mattoon to search... -- Continued on Page 3, Column 1.

Illness of First Gas 'Victim' Blamed for Wave of Hysteria in Mattoon
Psychiatrist Lays Origin of Terror to Sickness, Worry

Continued from First Page.
...out the hidden causes of the community's panic, he had in mind three possibilities:
  1. That a cowardly sadist was loose in the city--an individual who derived malicious pleasure from hurting others and who had devised a novel means of doing so.
  2. That the gas poisoner had inspired others to imitate him, thus making possible gas-spraying attacks in many parts of town at one time.
  3. That no such malicious individuals existed or had ever existed, but that Mattoon as a community had become a victim of its own collective and deep-rooted fears, fears bred and brought to unbearable tension by war.
He began with Mrs. Bert Kearney, first victim of the phantom prowler, because he felt that here was the key to the whole situation. Her experience, so terrifying that it caused her to summon her husband home from work and call the police, touched off the excitement. It was the focus of the infection which was later to spread through the whole city. Young and rather heavily built, Mrs. Kearney is quiet and even subdued of manner. Meeting her, you are impressed with her calm good nature and feel instinctively that she would not easily be thrown off balance. This was fully indicated by the domestic situation which we met on our arrival. We came in at a moment when grief and illness were by themselves giving Mrs. Kearney enough to cope with, and yet she greeted us calmly and graciously.

Remains Calm Despite Harassing Situation

Her sister, Mrs. Edgar Reedy, who makes her home with the Kearneys while her husband is in the navy, had just received word of her mother-in-law's unexpected death in another city. To make matters worse, Mrs. Reedy was ill--still in bed after an appendicitis operation. There were wires to be sent, telephone calls to be made, a sister's grief to comfort and three small, insistent children to look after, her own two baby girls and her sister's toddling boy--and yet Mrs. Kearney showed no signs of being fussed. She took care of first things first and then sat down to talk to us and to answer the doctor's kindly questions in a co-operative and friendly manner. The attack, she said, came about 11 o'clock on the evening of Sept. 1. They had had company earlier. The children were all in bed. Her sister was lying down in the front room in the bed she now occupied and she herself was in bed in the back room, reading the paper. No, she didn't remember what she was reading. She had been so frightened when the attack came, so sick afterward that everything else had been driven out of her head.

Sister Also Smells 'Cheap Perfume'

Yes, she had been violently nauseated--terribly sick. First though, her legs got numb. Afterwards, she had a headache and her lips were dry and burning, her tongue thick and swollen.
How about her eyes--did they burn, too?
No, her eyes were all right.
Now, what about this odor? How did it smell? Did it come a little at a time or all at once?
This was more difficult to answer. The odor was puzzling. Mrs. Kearney went on:
"At first I thought it was the flowers. I have a lot of flowers on that side of the yard. Then it became unpleasant, heavy--like a cheap perfume." Then Mrs. Reedy interposed: "She called me and asked if I smelled anything. I didn't, but later, when I went into help her after she got sick, I did. That was the way it smelled--like cheap perfume."

Clue Discovered by Psychiatrist

The doctor said:
"I am puzzled as to why anyone should want to molest this nice little home. Have you any ideas about that?" No, Mrs. Kearney couldn't say. Nobody would want to, unless, she added, they were after the money.
"Oh, you had money in the house, then?"
Yes, Mrs. Kearney had had an unusual sum of her own and her sister had that day cashed her allotment check for $75. It was all in the house.
Her husband wasn't at home. He drives a taxi and has worked nights for a good many years. She was used to being alone and she'd never been nervous about it. That was all. A straight forward story told in a straight forward way, and confirmed by one who had been present when it occurred. On the face of it, it would seem to an observer, there was scant material for a psychiatrist to work on. And yet Dr. Hulbert found here the clue he sought and was able to draw from it certain important conclusions. Strangely enough, the symptoms described by Mrs. Kearney were not those of gas poisoning but of paralyzing fear.
That was of first importance If she didn't have the symptoms of gas poisoning, then she couldn't possibly have been poisoned. That's cold, scientific, medical fact, and there is no way to get around it.
How then to account for her illness? Undoubtedly she had been suddenly and alarmingly ill immediately after detecting a sickeningly sweet and overpowering odor. Every detail of her story was stamped with truth. It was impossible to doubt it and, if it had been doubted, there were her sister, her husband and the police to confirm it. What, then, is the answer to this puzzle?

'Victim' Exhausted, Excited and Worried

The doctor found it in the unusual sum of money in her keeping. This money represented, he pointed out, especially in the case of the sister's allotment, not just so many dollars, but 75 necessary, irreplaceable dollars. For a gentle, non-aggressive woman like Mrs. Kearney, none too secure at any time, it meant a heavy responsibility. An extra responsibility, for, as Mrs. Reedy pointed out, she usually paid her bills the moment she cashed her check and so as a rule had very little extra cash on hand. Extra responsibility plus a basic though unconscious and unrecognized feeling of insecurity frightened her and she did not have the temperament to deal with fright. She was tired. She had had company that night, with unusual work and unusual excitement. Undoubtedly, according to the doctor, she was due for a bilious attack. So what do you have? A burdened woman, in a state of fatigue, a stomach getting set to rebel, the scent of flowers drifting in through the open window. As you know, if you've ever had a sick stomach, any scent at all, particularly a sweet one, is distasteful at such a time. But, the doctor explained, there is also another factor. Any person about to be sick at the stomach will get whiffs of unpleasant odor from that source. Mingle the two together and you can see that you might get something resembling a cheap and disgusting perfume, the odor of which would become more apparent as the sickness increased. Numbness of the legs, a foul taste in the mouth, clamminess--are all a part of the preliminaries of a vomiting attack. And don't forget that Mrs. Kearney was genuinely frightened. Not by anything that happened outside, but by unconscious fears rising out of her insecurity and stimulated by extra responsibility. This fright reinforced and made worse every symptom that she experienced. Is she then to be thought of as an irresponsible, hysterical woman who willfully and maliciously touched off a community reign of terror?
Never!
She merely reported what was to her a fearsome experience.
She didn't realize that it had its origins within, rather than without. When she tried to explain it, she explained it in terms of sensations from the outside world.

Contrasting Case of Tired Woman

Now, for contrast, come with the doctor while he interviews a later victim, Mrs. Laura Junkin, who experienced an attack by the phantom gas man Sept. 6, four days after Mrs. Kearney's misfortune had been reported in the daily papers and when the terror in Mattoon was at its height. This case also occurred at night between 11 and 12. At 11, Mrs. Junkin went to the bedroom of her apartment back of the Big Four restaurant, which she owns and operates. She noted the dread odor of gas on her pillow and along the edge of the mattress. It made her ill, although not to the point of vomiting, and caused her to lose control of her legs. She was tired and sleepy. Her mind was full of the phantom prowler whose exploits were on every tongue. It was a time of night when the critical faculty is not too keen. She probably did smell something. How natural, then, in her keyed-up state, in her fatigue, to attribute it to the thing which every one then feared--the unknown and fantastic sprayer The case of Mrs. Junkin, according to the doctor, was simply one of suggestibility in a weary woman. -- Sunday, September 17, page 1, 3 (Further details of the psychoanalysis of Mattoon's gas hysteria will be revealed in Monday's Herald-American) Photo Caption
MRS. BERT KEARNEY soothes daughter, Dorothy, 4, a victim of mysterious Mattoon malady blamed on a 'gas madman' and which has struck terror through the thriving central Illinois city. Another daughter, Carol, 2, watches. Photo Caption
POINTING to bedroom window, Mrs. Laura Junkin explains to police and Mattoon city officials how she was 'gassed' while sleeping.