Dan DaranciangBel-Nor is a quiet neighborhood in the St. Louis suburbs, with picturesque brick houses along a tree lined street. This season, the crisp autumn leaves are drifting through the breeze to settle at the feet of busy rakers. It is hard to believe that Satan would feel at home here.
But evil did take up residence in one of the quaint brick houses once, back in 1949, manifesting itself in the possession of a young boy.
In 1949, just miles away from the house at the now demolished Alexian Brothers Hospital, a small group of relatives and priests gathered around a young boy. Their mission was grave, for they sought to free him from the devil’s grip through the ages-old Catholic rite of exorcism.
While this may seem like cinematic hogwash, the event was real, and the boy, believed to be possessed, lived in this nondescript brick home.
Those who delight in the supernatural have most likely seen “The Exorcist,” a thrilling cinematic classic based on William Peter Blatty’s book. The movie follows the grotesque possession of a young girl and her subsequent exorcism.
Filled with horrific delights and the well-known 360-degree head twist, the movie and the book are no doubt showcasing a hyperbole of supernatural science fiction.
But few know that at the root of this creative endeavor lies a true story, a good vs. evil, heaven vs. hell showdown that ended in Washington University’s own backyard, here in St. Louis.
Blatty fervently researched the obscure case to write his book, but the real main character was a 14-year-old boy, usually referred to as Robbie, whose identity is well-protected. This is evidenced by the use of a girl, Regan, in Blatty’s book.
The story begins in a small suburb of Washington D.C. in 1949 where Robbie was growing up. The family’s life was suddenly interrupted by a variety of odd occurrences, such as scratching noises in the walls, violent shaking of Robbie’s bed and the inexplicable movement of stationary objects around the house.
Robbie underwent extensive medical and psychological evaluations, but no natural causes could be found. The Lutheran family eventually turned to the Catholic Church for help, and the Jesuits assigned to the case further examined Robbie and kept him under constant observation.
Robbie and his family eventually moved to St. Louis to stay with relatives with the hope that the new environment would ease the afflictions that were gripping Robbie. Also spurring them to relocate to St. Louis was the mysterious branded appearance of the word “Louis” on Robbie’s chest.
The worst was yet to come, though, and Robbie would later endure fits and violent outbursts, spitting and cursing. Meanwhile, mysterious scratches and welts, which observers claimed spelled out words such as “Spite” and “Hell,” appeared all over his body.
After a grueling two months of exorcism attempts following a 27-page exorcism rite detailed by the Catholic Church, an April night finally brought an end to the horror. A voice claiming to be St. Michael the Archangel burst forth from Robbie, and he sat up, recalling a bright vision of the angel but remembering little else.
Much controversy has surrounded the haunting tale, and details are largely suppressed, due to the secretive nature of exorcisms. Most sources claim that all buildings associated with the exorcism have since been destroyed, but here the proclaimed fact is actually fiction-the house of Robbie’s aunt and uncle, where he stayed while here in St. Louis, still stands, nestled in relative anonymity.
No longer a haven for the dark and mysterious forces that gripped Robbie and the surrounding community, the house is now for sale.
Although the house’s seller refused to allow for a tour and didn’t want inside photos taken or an address published, the realtor speaking on his behalf said there were no “bad vibes” in the house and promptly hung up. Fortunately, realtor appointments aren’t necessary for an external view of the house.
A winding path leads up to the house, which itself exudes a still air. Dead vines cling to the white plantation shutters highlighted by the red brick, and there is a broken basement window. There is no rush of malcontent or malice to lace the air, but every now and then, a shudder, a chill, fingers up the spine-the knowledge that something sinister had been here before.
Physically, there is nothing of the mysterious house to suggest the unsettling events of 1949, but, it stands a testament to the mysteries of the mind, the power of possession and the human fascination with the phantasmal.
Neighbors are well aware of the house’s paranormal history and reporters and television stations have found the house, despite attempts to conceal its location.
One neighbor, who wishes to remain anonymous to keep the relative location of the neighborhood less publicized, has been living next door to the house for 20 years. She lived in a different neighborhood at the time of the events but recalls the buzz that echoed through her Catholic high school.
“It wasn’t publicized and nothing was determined,” she recalled, “but there was a current of excitement and we knew it was something big. It was just something everyone knew about but no one knew the details. But you knew that there was definitely something going on there.”
The tale has been met with extreme controversy among believers and non-believers, and factual disparities fuel constant debate. But books, blogs, documentaries and websites have all been devoted to the exploration of the mysterious happenings.
Some claim the case to be a psychological issue rather than demonic possession, and others prefer the possibility of mere boyish pranks taken too far.
“I personally choose to believe the case for possession and exorcism,” commented sophomore Chance Grannan. “I guess I always wanted there to be something more out there, not necessarily just the physical.”
Whether pranksters or poltergeists are behind it, the St. Louis exorcism captures the human desire for the metaphysical and innate fascination with the paranormal.