THE AMITYVILLE HORROR— For God’s Sake Get on with It!”
The Amityville haunting is a complex affair, for it is in truth and in marketing the furthest thing from a haunting. This isn’t a story of ghosts. This isn’t a tale about an apparition of great aunt Mitty floating about the corridors of an old mansion carrying her head under her arm. This is a story of demonic possession, possession of a house and the torment of those who awakened the evil within it.
The 1970s was a broad-minded time. Americans reached out into the occult and into spiritualism, but it is undeniable that all those of the antiestablishment era and its free-thinking aftermath in the 1970s were raised in some denomination of Christianity. No matter how far the attitudes of the 1970s would go, Christian concepts and symbolism still tethered the culture and were taken for granted even by fairly non observant society. The idea of demons, possession, exorcism intrigued a metaphysical generation.
Religiously, all denominations of Christianity are reticent to believe in ghosts, that is, in surviving personalities walking amongst us or inhabiting places. But all denominations are ready to accept demonic activity. As such, the Amityville Haunting is far from an isolated twilight tale we thrill and chill ourselves with each Halloween. It survives because religiously the claims made about the “haunting” are considered possible. It is even a volatile subject because it causes established religions to bat head-on with independent spiritualism. Ghost stories would merely have been giggled off. But the “Amityville Horror” strides the narrow space between rustic folklore and the more hallowed area of faith. It has therefore become a fulcrum. To the religious, it is proof of evil, of supernatural evil, and therefore contrariwise it is proof of supernatural good, proof of God. To spiritualists, it is proof they can act as mediums, and even as protectors and exorcists— warriors and heroes of the supernatural.
Because of this (and more!) so many are disposed to believe in some form of “The Amityville Horror” despite contradictions in claims, despite the allegations of pure hoax, despite the massive commercialization, and despite some aspects of the traditional story that remain too cloudy for the physicalist’s comfort.
The story, in a nutshell, is that the George Lutz family were haunted by a resident, evil “spirit” in the old Dutch Colonial house at 112 Ocean Avenue in Amityville, New York. George and Kathy Lutz were newly married. She already had 3 children by a previous marriage: Daniel, Chris, and Melissa. The family moved into their new home in December 1975. Though a beautiful, large 3 story home with basement, they remained only 28 days and then fled, insisting they felt endangered for their lives, yet without using the word “haunted.”
Indeed, George Lutz did not believe that it was a genuine haunting. He believed that an evil presence was involved. Publicly George and Kathy admitted their belief that the evil was already there and that they had become accidentally in-tuned to it because of their daily transcendental meditation. But those “demonologists” who quickly got involved couldn’t help but believe that George had been secretly up to more than Kathy. TM never did this for any other couple. The rumor was that he was deeply interested in the occult and he had been intentionally conjuring demons in the basement. One of the sons, Chris, later blamed George for causing it all. Supposedly, the reason George even bought the house was because he had heard that it was easier to conjure spirits where a tragedy had previously occurred.
This is a crucial part of the whole story. Whether you believe the “Horror” is all a hoax or that there is a kernel of truth, everything hinges on the previous De Feo murders. On November 13, 1974, the entire De Feo family was murdered in this house— the father and mother, 2 sons and 2 daughters. All found shot to death in their beds while facing down. The only De Feo not dead was the eldest son, Ronnie De Feo Jr. He claimed he had not been home that night and when he came home in the morning he found his whole family murdered. Due to inconsistencies in his story, he was soon charged with the murders. DeFeo claimed the devil made him do it. His attorney’s plea of insanity didn’t work. De Feo Jr. was tried and convicted.
Bizarre murders indeed.
The house sat empty for a year. No takers until the Lutzes, and they got a good deal. Yet after 28 days, they were gone.
Within a week, they had made contact with Ronnie De Feo’s attorney, William Weber, in order to inquire about the background of this tragic affair. George and Kathy had no intention of abandoning the house. George wanted to probe into its background and, supposedly, uncover the source of the problems. But Weber wanted to write a book on the De Feo murders, and it seems that George and Kathy’s story had some interesting angles.
Weber obviously had some good contacts. He alone appears to be the impetus for the media attention that came to surround the incident shortly thereafter. He even staged a press conference at his own offices to introduce the topic in detail to the press. Weber also had contacts with editors, and in those glorious days of publishing all it took was a phone call. The response to the press conference, and the fact a book deal was so quick in coming, must have convinced George they had something, something very good. He no doubt felt he could get a better percentage than the 12% offered in his contract with Weber.
At this point we can make some reliable guesses. The huge success of the movie Exorcist reflected America’s continuing counter culture open-mind in the occult and demonology. The book Helter Skelter was also a huge bestseller. This was Los Angeles County prosecutor Vincent Bugliosi’s triumph detailing his investigation and prosecution of the cult-inspired Manson Murders. Put together, Weber no doubt could have made a good thing about a complex murder like the De Feo’s and then to help bolster the dark side interweave some of the Lutz’s experiences as an epilogue.
Dumping Weber was a bold move on the Lutzes’ part. But the press coverage, which he had made possible, had also made it possible for them to meet author Jay Anson. They signed a 50/50 split with him. McGraw-Hill would publish Anson’s book The Amityville Horror in 1977. It was a runaway bestseller. It would be adapted and embellished into a hit movie.
Lawsuits would follow and indeed dog the whole “Amityville affair.” Weber sued the Lutzes. He claimed it was a hoax. Being a lawyer, he used careful language. He said the “book” was a hoax. He recounted how their deal began. During their initial evening together discussing the house’s background and the murders, Weber and the Lutzes drank 4 bottles of wine. Weber recalled that their story started getting better and better . . .with each bottle. Although Weber offered this vignette as damning evidence of a hoax, it also implicitly means that there was indeed a story to begin with. We do not know what this kernel of truth is because of the falling out, but Weber must have wanted the story in its original form. When he made up a contract with the Lutzes (after their meeting), he specified they were to tell the truth. He obviously didn’t want the 4 bottles of embroidery. But he felt there was something in the original story.
But what is the truth?
The book inspired too much excitement for the truth to even come close to equaling it. Nothing, actually, would stop the hype. Though the whole image became soiled by recriminations and lawsuits, the plot was a great concept. It gave us a supposedly real life incarnation of the greatest folklore stories of evil hauntings. It even had a bizarre mass murder. Usually, that is a plot device in fiction. Books followed promoting or decrying the whole affair. It became the case in the case studies of demonologists and ghost hunters. More and more embellished movies were made. The Lutzes admitted there were inaccuracies in the book by Anson and that the movies were largely fictional and embellished (which is typical of Hollywood anyway).
But what exactly is the truth?
Before those 4 bottles of wine, before all those prospects with which Weber dazzled this simple couple, what is the kernel they told him? A conspiracy of silence surrounds the answer.
George and Kathy Lutz became obscure after 1980 and, to be brutal, after they were no longer needed for the promotion of the movie. As time would pass we would learn that they divorced in 1987. In response to the counsel of the Catholic Church, George became a Catholic. In 1999, The History Channel did a commendable documentary on the subject, and George and Kathy reemerged. The “Amityville Horror” came back to us. Renewed interest made it a hot topic of debate. Sadly, there were more lawsuits, more mud thrown, and more confusion injected into the subject. Kathy would die of emphysema relatively young, about 57 years old, and George would suddenly die of a heart attack at the age of 58. The three children remain, and have always been obscure. Only recently have the boys spoken out, but there is contradiction here too.
I am disposed to believe in a kernel of truth and yet not believe in the legend that evolved. To quote a line from a premier haunted house story: “No Mr. Fitzgerald, no house is haunted. There are no ghosts in a room except those we bring ourselves.”
In order to even approach the Amityville kernel of truth, it is necessary to understand what was actually happening and what was the Lutzes’ interpretation of these events, for something certainly happened, and that something, before the bottles of wine, drove them from the house and then interested an attorney enough for him to stipulate (and bind them to) the truth.
To believe the Lutzes bought that house to intentionally perpetrate a hoax is commercially naive. This presupposes they knew they could make a success out of it, which nobody could have foreseen. No one can be guaranteed of press coverage. On top of this, no one can be guaranteed of positive press coverage. And no one, not even publicists and the press, can guarantee that even positive coverage will make the story take hold with the public.
The week after the Lutzes left the house and before they hooked up with Weber the truth remained intact. The true story was approachable about what happened in that house. Only Weber knows the story before it got better, and he obviously hasn’t said what it was. He has repeatedly said it was a hoax. Well, most people realize the book was largely inflated. But what drove the Lutzes out of that house to begin with? Why did they leave all their things behind? Only that one week in January holds the answers.
One of the boys, Chris, has said George was responsible by incanting demons. But that doesn’t help us. This may explain why they left everything behind. This may explain why they believed the impetus of the events was evil and not really a ghost. But when it comes down to it, they interpreted events certain ways, and these events and their interpretation scared them out of the house and to seek out its past in detail.
The book tells us that there were flies swarming in the sewing room. Each day they increased in number until about a hundred were swirling about. There was the smell of death, and Kathy, in the book, even said it smelled like a dead rat. There were odd bangs and sounds like the front door, though locked, was slamming shut at night. George was always cold. A green substance grew from the carpeting.
I can believe this. The house was empty for a year. New owners, inhabitants at last, the heater now being on in winter. There’s going to be creaks, bangs, thumps and bumps in the night. Did a rat come in during that year? Did it die somewhere in the floorboards or near the heating pipes? Were flies born from maggots and they followed the pipe or space between floors and came out where they found a place in the sewing room? I can even wonder if some of the blood from the De Feos seeped through the hardwood floors and attracted a rat.
There it seems is the simple solution. The Lutzes, despite saying that the murders of the year before did not affect them, began to interpret these new events negatively; George perhaps the most because he was supposedly dabbling in twilight deeds in the basement. Together they eventually believed they had unleashed evil forces. On top of this, Melissa, their 5 year old, says she is playing with an invisible friend that looks like a merry pig. One of the boys sees a dark shadow approach him. Then there are those flies, symbols of the devil. Innocent events, children’s imaginations, and a guilty conscience take their toll. George and Kathy basically end up haunting themselves. Commercialization takes its place a week after and the whole story, inflated, becomes a part of Americana. End of it.
There is one problem. A formidable one. There is, possibly, another and on the face of it very unimpeachable, outside witness to some of these events. Indeed, his experiences anchor it all— Father Pecoraro. In the book by Jay Anson he is called Father Mancuso. Well, in the book Father Mancuso blesses the house. He trots up to the sewing room and there while blessing it he notices it is quite cold, even for December. It is only this room. While blessing it he hears a deep voice directed at him telling him to “Get out!” He is then slapped in the face. In the book he doesn’t tell the Lutzes. He only obliquely tells them he had an uncomfortable experience by suggesting to them to let no one sleep in that room. It is awfully cold.
Some have tried to question whether the blessing occurred despite the fact Pecoraro swore in court it had occurred. Ric Osuna discovered that in one of the depositions, in the myriad of lawsuits the Lutzes were later involved in, one of their attorneys stated, based supposedly on a phone call with Pecoraro, that Father Pecoraro only told him that he had received a call from them regarding psychic experiences in the house.
Father Pecoraro was an Ecclesiastical Judge and no doubt naturally parsed words. His statement is perfectly correct. As his experiences relate to the Lutzes’ experiences, he only had phone contact. He was not a personal witness. In like manner, they were not witnesses to his personal experience. Thus, quite rightly, he had nothing to do with the claims of the haunting except a phone call. However, when asked in open court about his own experience, he surprised people with his response. He heard a deep voice, and no one was there. It said “Get out!”
Father Pecoraro later materializes in greater detail. He elaborated on his experience in what must be his only TV appearance— on the late great In Search of. . . in 1980. He appears only in darkened silhouette. Pecoraro fades from the story thereafter. He is one of those who is enveloped in the clutches of that conspiracy of silence. The Lutzes lose contact with him. The people who bought the house after the Lutzes even go so far as to call him a “charlatan priest” in order to discredit the entire story. Because he was an independent witness, his credibility had to be destroyed. Father Pecoraro, far from a charlatan priest, nevertheless remains a very shadowy figure. But he is ushered out of the story very quickly. Why? He supposedly died about 1987 around the age of 52. That’s the only footnote he gets. Apparently, I’m the first one who bothered to find the actual dates and locate his family in Florida.
The search for the kernel of truth in all this is difficult. As I said, this is more than a ghost story. It is a story of faith, commercialization, profiteering, silence, murder, and of people who got in over their heads. For some within the occult, the Amityville Horror must be real, every facet of it, every chapter. For debunkers, no element of the legend can be true. Everything must be false. Everything must be vilified, even if the excuses are more improbable than the legend. For the average mainstream, it has become a part of Americana.
It is time to finally objectively investigate and find the kernel of truth.
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