The Bloody Benders
It was in Kansas, at the close of the Civil War, that history first became acquainted with the quaint doings of the Family Bender, upright German immigrants who ran a clapboard lodge for tired pioneers.
It was a one room house divided by a large canvas sheet. On one side, the family kept their sleeping quarters. On the other side was the guest room, kitchen, and dining table. It was small, but for tired folks traveling the length and breadth of the Kansas prairie, it must have seemed mighty homey.
Old Man Bender (or John Bender) was a cantankerous old devil, married to a woman ten years or more younger than him, and living with the mentally-impaired son of his wife’s former husband, as well as a pulchritudinous daughter who, it was rumored, was having an incestuous relationship with her half-brother.
This being only a small part of her charms, legend has that she was both beautiful and immensely talented, possessing a vast store of knowledge and wit; she was also, reportedly, an accomplished medium, who could call forth spirits, speak in tongues, perform faith healings, and was frequently known to give lectures in the back of small shops concerning the doing and goings of the spirit world.
The typical scenario by which the Bender crime family operated, was to have a weary guest or traveler invited in, fed, made to feel comfortable and at home, while the great oafish son waited behind the canvas curtain , ready with a sledgehammer. The victim would, invariably, be convinced to sit in the “hot-seat”, almost certainly by the so-charming daughter Katie, and then her brother would proceed to bash in the brains of the man as soon as an opportunity to had presented itself.
Then, the body would be dragged back behind the sheet, atop a waiting trap, and then would be dropped into a pit, where the throat would then be slit by Old Man Bender, to assure that death had actually taken place.
A short walk out back after dark, and the bodied could be buried in a stand of trees; unnoticed, and so it would remain, for the next year and a half.
The Benders, by all accounts, were doing very well for themselves; already they had amassed quite a considerable amount of money in stolen possessions, and many of the victims had been carrying considerable amounts of cash, it seemed, right before they had had the misfortune to happen on the Bender’s deadly dwelling.
Eventually, though (as always is the case) their fortune turned for the worst; the Bender’s had the personal misfortune of inviting a certain Dr. William H. York to stay at their humble abode; as might already be guessed, he did not live to see the morning.
He had been traveling en route to his home from Fort Surrat, Kansas, and his brother, a military man, in short order became concerned at the long-delay of his sibling, organized a search party, which eventually found their way to the doorstep of Old Man Bender, and his queer family. Though they tried, with every measure of their being, to stave off his concerns with professions of ignorance, and undeniable charm, he proceeded on his way not entirely convinced of their ignorance as to his missing brother’s whereabouts.
And, at that point at least, so were many of the neighbors of the Benders. Sergeant York, his suspicions aroused by accounts from local people that the benders had, suddenly and mysteriously, left their property, including animals, and disappeared. Returning in haste to the Bender property, Sergeant York began to explore the premises, and did not like what he found.
Upon discovering the killing pit, which had become foul with dried blood, Sergeant York and his posse went out into the orchards behind the former Bender residence, and began to poke in the exposed earth; recent torrential rains had revealed the presence of several freshly-dug spots approximating graves.
After thrusting a metal rod into the moist earth, the mean were not surprised to pull the instruments back and discover them clotted with blood and bits of human gore. It was a short time later that eight bodies were retrieved from the shallow graves; seven full-grown adults, and a baby girl.
Apparently, this child had been killed as an afterthought; it had been tossed into the grave of it’s parent, and buried alive.
The end of the Bender saga is not a happy one; or, perhaps it is, depending on your particular point of view, although this author would like to assume that everyone reading his words, presently, is a perfectly sane, rational, and altogether moral individual. But we digress.
Various lynch mobs went into the surrounding areas, in search of the escaped, murderous family. It was all to no avail; although rumor had it that they had been sighted and lynched in locations as far-removed as Texas and Michigan, these tales all proved to be little-more than fruitless gossip.
The Benders disappeared, literally, without a trace; one wonders, or really assumes, that they found a more suitable environment in which to ply their peculiar family trade.
It was a one room house divided by a large canvas sheet. On one side, the family kept their sleeping quarters. On the other side was the guest room, kitchen, and dining table. It was small, but for tired folks traveling the length and breadth of the Kansas prairie, it must have seemed mighty homey.
Old Man Bender (or John Bender) was a cantankerous old devil, married to a woman ten years or more younger than him, and living with the mentally-impaired son of his wife’s former husband, as well as a pulchritudinous daughter who, it was rumored, was having an incestuous relationship with her half-brother.
This being only a small part of her charms, legend has that she was both beautiful and immensely talented, possessing a vast store of knowledge and wit; she was also, reportedly, an accomplished medium, who could call forth spirits, speak in tongues, perform faith healings, and was frequently known to give lectures in the back of small shops concerning the doing and goings of the spirit world.
The typical scenario by which the Bender crime family operated, was to have a weary guest or traveler invited in, fed, made to feel comfortable and at home, while the great oafish son waited behind the canvas curtain , ready with a sledgehammer. The victim would, invariably, be convinced to sit in the “hot-seat”, almost certainly by the so-charming daughter Katie, and then her brother would proceed to bash in the brains of the man as soon as an opportunity to had presented itself.
Then, the body would be dragged back behind the sheet, atop a waiting trap, and then would be dropped into a pit, where the throat would then be slit by Old Man Bender, to assure that death had actually taken place.
A short walk out back after dark, and the bodied could be buried in a stand of trees; unnoticed, and so it would remain, for the next year and a half.
The Benders, by all accounts, were doing very well for themselves; already they had amassed quite a considerable amount of money in stolen possessions, and many of the victims had been carrying considerable amounts of cash, it seemed, right before they had had the misfortune to happen on the Bender’s deadly dwelling.
Eventually, though (as always is the case) their fortune turned for the worst; the Bender’s had the personal misfortune of inviting a certain Dr. William H. York to stay at their humble abode; as might already be guessed, he did not live to see the morning.
He had been traveling en route to his home from Fort Surrat, Kansas, and his brother, a military man, in short order became concerned at the long-delay of his sibling, organized a search party, which eventually found their way to the doorstep of Old Man Bender, and his queer family. Though they tried, with every measure of their being, to stave off his concerns with professions of ignorance, and undeniable charm, he proceeded on his way not entirely convinced of their ignorance as to his missing brother’s whereabouts.
And, at that point at least, so were many of the neighbors of the Benders. Sergeant York, his suspicions aroused by accounts from local people that the benders had, suddenly and mysteriously, left their property, including animals, and disappeared. Returning in haste to the Bender property, Sergeant York began to explore the premises, and did not like what he found.
Upon discovering the killing pit, which had become foul with dried blood, Sergeant York and his posse went out into the orchards behind the former Bender residence, and began to poke in the exposed earth; recent torrential rains had revealed the presence of several freshly-dug spots approximating graves.
After thrusting a metal rod into the moist earth, the mean were not surprised to pull the instruments back and discover them clotted with blood and bits of human gore. It was a short time later that eight bodies were retrieved from the shallow graves; seven full-grown adults, and a baby girl.
Apparently, this child had been killed as an afterthought; it had been tossed into the grave of it’s parent, and buried alive.
The end of the Bender saga is not a happy one; or, perhaps it is, depending on your particular point of view, although this author would like to assume that everyone reading his words, presently, is a perfectly sane, rational, and altogether moral individual. But we digress.
Various lynch mobs went into the surrounding areas, in search of the escaped, murderous family. It was all to no avail; although rumor had it that they had been sighted and lynched in locations as far-removed as Texas and Michigan, these tales all proved to be little-more than fruitless gossip.
The Benders disappeared, literally, without a trace; one wonders, or really assumes, that they found a more suitable environment in which to ply their peculiar family trade.
posted by Borg at 1:39 PM
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