Lorna Mae leaned against the fence post, resting her back. Dawn had just broken on the horizon, bathing the farm in a golden light.
Lorna loved this time of morning. Everything seemed so new, so fresh. It was like the cares of yesterday had fallen away, replaced by brand new opportunities.
She was usually up before dawn, helping her father take care of the various chores on the farm. Lorna didn’t mind the hard work, and it had made her strong. Although she usually didn’t say anything about it, she knew that could work harder than nearly any man in their area patch of North Dakota, no matter how seasoned they were.
Her father still helped with a few things, but the truth was that Lorna Mae had taken over most of the farm work. He was getting older now, and some things were just harder for him to do. Ever since her mother had died, some of his spark had faded.
She looked over toward the house, her smile slipping a little.
The truth was that their little way of life was going to be changing. She was getting married soon, and that would mean leaving the family farm.
Even though things had changed a lot in rural America since her parents had gotten married, Lorna knew as well as anyone else in the 1930’s that sometimes folks got married as much for the betterment of the farm as anything else.
Farming was hard work, and the more hands that a family had sometimes, the better. Most families divided up the work along gender lines. Women would take care of all the household chores – cooking, cleaning, mending, sewing, etc. – while men would take care of the various farm chores, like tending to the crops, taking care of the animals, and making sure the houses and outbuildings were kept up.
There was plenty of work to be done by both sides and dividing it up made it easier to manage. Besides, the truth was that it often didn’t quite work out as cleanly as some people thought it did. Many women tended the animals and helped with the farm work, and there were several men who helped with the cooking and cleaning.
Lorna could do nearly anything. Her mother had taught her how to cook, clean, and sew. Her father, having no sons, had no problems teaching her about farming, tending livestock, construction, and even mechanics.
In the farming world of 1930’s North Dakota, she was a complete package. She would have been a catch for any farmer.
But out of anyone, Lorna had chosen Ben Berg. Another local farmer, Berg was a widower raising three young girls on his own.
That part was the only thing that made Lorna a little nervous about their union. She was the youngest sibling in her family, and she hadn’t ever really been around little ones as much. Not that she couldn’t do it. Lorna had every confidence in herself that she could.
Still, it made her just a little nervous. But she would figure it out, not only because she wanted to do right by those girls, but also because she wanted to make Ben happy knowing that she was a good mother.
The truth was that Lorna adored Ben. She had fallen deeply in love with him, and while she knew that there would always be a practical side to her marriage, she wanted to make Ben happy.
And she did. Ben loved Lorna as much as she loved him. After his wife had died, he wondered if he could ever find someone who could fill the void in his life. Then he had talked to Lorna one day and knew that she could.
The couple couldn’t wait to be married, and even though it was just a short time away, to them it seemed like an eternity to wait.
Her father was overjoyed. Granted, it would mean that Lorna would be leaving, but the Berg farm wasn’t that far away. He knew that Lorna would come back whenever he needed her. Besides, soon enough she would be bringing along grandchildren, and he absolutely loved that idea.
Everyone seemed to be excited about the upcoming wedding, all except for one person: Lorna’s older sister, Carol.
Carol Eberle was as beautiful as her sister was strong. She had many a suiter over the years, but she only had eyes for Ben Berg.
Carol had long since decided that Ben should be hers. But somehow Lorna had stepped in and stolen him from her. How exactly she had done that was a mystery to Carol. She was the best-looking woman in the county; Ben should be throwing himself at her!
But she was the only one that thought that. Everyone around, including Carol’s father, knew exactly how Lorna had won over Ben. She was a hard worker, always upbeat and positive. Carol, however, was moody and resentful. Granted, she was beautiful, but she was unbelievably lazy.
To say the least, tensions were high between the two sisters. Still, they managed to get along as best they could.
Things were going well until, just a few days before the wedding, Lorna began to feel sick to her stomach. She couldn’t bring herself to eat anything, and she felt hot, like she was running a high fever.
At first, Lorna thought that she might be coming down with the stomach flu. She’d been sick before and figured that it would pass eventually. But as she continued to work through her chores, a sharp, burning pain began to tear at her stomach. It became worse and worse, getting to the point where she couldn’t hardly walk without being in agony.
Lorna’s father knew that something was seriously wrong and told Carol to go to town and get the doctor. Carol left, but returned by sometime later, but there was no doctor. She made some vague excuses to her father, but when she saw how bad Lorna really was, Carol loaded her onto the wagon and went back to town.
Unfortunately, Lorna Mae died just a short time after they pulled onto the main street.
The doctor said that it was a ruptured appendix. People around town began to blame Carol, saying that she had been seen in town visiting and window shopping when she supposed to have gone straight to the doctor. They said that maybe if she had, then Ben would be marrying Lorna instead of burying her.
Carol didn’t care. People could say whatever they wanted. She had never kept it a secret that she wanted Ben for herself, and that she was the one he should have wanted in the first place. Sure, Carol had loved Lorna in her own way, but Ben was supposed to marry her.
Secretly, Carol believed that fate had intervened on her behalf. Ben was meant to be hers, and she would make sure that it happened.
For his part, Ben Berg was devastated. He had just lost his wife a few years before, and now he was losing everything all over again. He had adored Lorna. She was going to have a wife, a partner, someone to share his hopes and dreams for the future of his family and farm.
He was grieving all these things when Carol began to show up at his farm. She wasn’t a shy woman and got straight to her point. She told Ben that, now that Lorna was gone, he would need someone to help around the farm, and that he should marry her instead.
Ben immediately told her no. He had loved Lorna, and he had just lost her. He wouldn’t even think about marrying someone else right then, maybe not ever.
Carol left, but, undaunted, returned the next day, and the day after.
Meanwhile, arrangements had been made for Lorna Mae’s funeral. She would be buried in the local cemetery next to her mother, wearing the wedding dress that she was supposed to have worn for Ben Berg.
When the day of the funeral came, she laid in an open casket, looking peaceful in her simple white gown. Ben sat in front of her, crying softly. Next to him was Carol, one hand gently rubbing his back as she whispered how she would be such a good wife she would be for him.
Ben was numb. He just tuned her out, ignoring Carol’s constant pleas as best as he could. He just kept telling her no.
People couldn’t believe Carol’s brazenness. But Carol didn’t care. She knew what she wanted, and, by God, she was going to have it. Let people say whatever they wanted.
After the funeral, Carol went to the undertaker. Taking her aside, she demanded that he remove Lorna’s wedding dress and give it to her. Carol’s father protested, saying that it wasn’t right.
Carol told him that she didn’t care. She wanted it and could still use it. What good was it going to do on Lorna six feet below the ground?
Her father knew that she was moody, spiteful, and lazy woman, but it was also his little girl. He had never been able to tell her no well and had spoiled her rotten as a result.
This time turned out to be no exception as, reluctantly, he asked the undertaker to do as Carol asked.
The dress was carefully removed, and Lorna was placed in a simple funeral shroud. Carol happily went home that night with her sister’s dress.
Over the next several weeks, Carol continued to badger Ben about marrying her. Ben kept telling her now, but after a while, he just got tired of fighting, and he agreed to marry her.
Carol was overjoyed. At home that night, she took out her the wedding dress and held it up to her front, admiring how it looked. Things were finally going to be the way they always should have been.
The wedding was set for mid-July. The air was hot and humid, and no breeze stirred through the packed church that morning as everyone sat packed into the simple wooden pews. The heat was stifling, and several people shifted uncomfortably as they fanned themselves, sweat running down their foreheads and hands.
Carol was no exception. She was sweltering in her dress, but she didn’t care. This was her wedding day, and she was finally going to have the man of her dreams.
As she walked down the aisle, even the guests that didn’t like her had to admit how beautiful Carol looked in her dress.
She joined Ben at the front of the church with the minster, and, as the music died away, the ceremony began.
As the minster spoke, Carol began to sway. At first, it looked like she was going to feint, but she quickly regained her balance. Ben asked if she was okay, and Carol impatiently told him that she was fine. She motioned to the minister to continue.
A few moments later, however, Carol’s legs gave way and she fell into Ben. He caught her, saying her name and laying her gently on the floor.
As he did, Carol’s body began to spasm, her eyes bulging as she gasped for breath.
Ben desperately called for the doctor, but it was already too late. Carol was already dead.
She had been perfectly healthy just that morning. What could have happened?
With the terrible heat that day, many thought that she must have gotten heat stroke and died.
However, when the autopsy was performed the next day, the doctor quickly ruled that out. One by one, he ruled out other potential causes of death as well.
Then, as the doctor stood for a moment, his eyes wandered to the wedding dress in a corner of the autopsy room. He remembered being told that Lorna was supposed to have been buried in it.
Walking over, he began to carefully examine the dress. When he was done, he realized that he had been right: Carol had been poisoned by embalming fluid.
The doctor later explained that Lorna’s body had been in the dress for nearly three days. Some of Lorna’s embalming fluid must have leaked into the material of the dress.
Normally it wouldn’t have mattered, but it was so hot the day of the wedding that Carol, like everyone else that day, had begun to sweat profusely. Her pores had opened more than usual, allowing the embalming fluid in the dress to soak into her skin and poison her.
The people around town, however, already knew what had really killed Carol Eberle on her wedding day. The doctor could have all the reasons he wanted, but everyone knew that it was Lorna’s vengeful spirit that had ended her sister’s life.
She had died because of Carol’s selfishness, all so that she could steal Lorna’s fiancée from her.
Lorna was dead, but she knew that she had suffered an almost unbearable injustice. There was no way that she had been able to rest peacefully. Reaching out, Lorna had put things right.
—
Wow. What a story, right? But, I’m afraid to say that’s all it is.
I know – it kind of fooled me, too. With so many specific names, I thought for sure that there must be some grain of truth in there somewhere. Unfortunately, if there is, I couldn’t find it.
I spent hours looking through old newspapers, vital records, and census rolls looking for the people in the story. Over and over again, I came up empty. I thought I came close a few times, but in the end, nothing.
This story is just a legend, told repeatedly over time. Each time, someone changes something, makes the story a little different. Hell, even I did.
But stories are something that drive us. Real or imagined, they’re something that bind us together. Even though these people probably never existed, the telling and hearing of the story is something that brings us together for a shared experience.
It’s like seeing a hit movie at the same time as someone else. You know it’s pretend, but being there and seeing and experiencing it for the first time is something that both you will have in common.
Now you’ve heard it, too. Take it with you and, when the opportunity strikes, share it with someone else. Don’t pretend it’s real; you don’t have to. Make it your own and enjoy the experience of sharing it, the experience of having your audience waiting to hear what happens next.
Help keep our legends alive for a new generation of listeners. Why?
Because, like our ancestors, we’re all suckers for a great story.
Sources
Norman, Michael and Scott, Beth. Haunted America. New York; Tor, 1994.
Appendicitis. Mayo Clinic, http://www.mayoclinic.org