The Circleville Letters

From the porch, concealed by the late fall night’s inky darkness, a faint noise echoes through the silence. In the distance, barely visible, the dim glow of headlights pierces the obscurity, gradually drawing nearer. The noise of an approaching car becomes discernible, a distant hum growing steadily louder.

As the car nears, its headlights take on an eerie quality, casting long, wavering shadows that dance across the quiet neighborhood street. But then, as if in fear of waking the slumbering residents, the driver flicks off the headlights, plunging the surroundings back into a cloak of darkness.

In the muted night, you can’t make out any details of the vehicle except for its shape, a sedan. The leafless trees lining the street stand like sentinels, their skeletal branches reaching toward the sky. A carpet of fallen leaves blankets the ground, their rustling whispers carried by the cool night air.

A figure emerges from the car, their silhouette towering and statuesque, their posture exuding a formidable presence. As they walk towards the mailbox, there’s a single, distinct crunch of leaves beneath their deliberate steps, the sound a stark contrast to the stillness of the night. Before reaching the mailbox, they pause briefly, casting a wary glance around.

Swathed in a heavy overcoat, they move with an uncanny grace, their every step muffled by the stillness of the hour. Beneath the wide brim of a hat, their face remains an inscrutable mystery.

Approaching the mailbox, the figure pauses again, scanning the area for any signs of people. The soft illumination from a distant streetlight provides just enough visibility to reveal their actions. From their coat pocket, they produce a plain white envelope, devoid of any markings or return address. It slips into the mailbox soundlessly, the faint metallic clink amplified by the surrounding silence.

But as they turn to retreat to the car, a fumble of white envelopes slips from their coat, scattering on the ground. In the dim light, the figure, with their tall and sturdy posture, stoops to collect the dropped letters. Their eyes dart about in a nervous search for any potential onlookers. Once retrieved, they slip the bundle back into their coat pocket with a hurried gesture, then quickly resume their path back to the car.

With a final, lingering glance, the figure reenters their vehicle. The tires barely whisper against the pavement as they depart, leaving you alone on the porch, watching the car disappear into the darkness of the night, like a shadow vanishing into the depths of the unknown.

The first wave of letters began in March 1977 and continued for about a year. During this time, the writer sent letters to a variety of people, including Mary Gillispie, Ron Gillespie, and Paul Freshour. The letters were threatening and accusatory, and they caused a great deal of anxiety and fear in the community.

The second wave of letters began in 1982 and lasted for about two years. During this time, the writer focused on a smaller group of people, including Paul Freshour, Marie Mayhew, and Gordon Massie. The letters were even more threatening and violent than before, and they caused a great deal of damage to the reputations and relationships of the recipients.

The third and final wave of letters began in 1994 and ended in November of that year. During this time, the writer sent letters to a small number of people, including Marie Mayhew and her husband. The letters were threatening and accusatory, but they were not as violent as the letters from previous waves.

It is not clear why the Circleville letter writer was more active during certain times than others. Some people believe that the writer was motivated by specific events or circumstances in their own life. Others believe that the writer was simply enjoying the power and control that they had over the community.

“Mary,

I know your secret, you whore! You’ve been seeing Ron Gillespie, and I’m going to expose you if you don’t stop. I know all about your dirty little affair, and I’m not afraid to tell your husband and the whole town.

If you don’t stop seeing Ron, I’m going to make your life a living hell. I’m going to follow you everywhere you go, and I’m going to tell everyone I know about your secret. I’m even going to tell your children.

So, think carefully about what you want to do. You can either stop seeing Ron, or you can face my wrath.

The Circleville Writer”

The first Circleville letter was sent to Mary Gillispie, a school bus driver, on March 17, 1977. Gillispie was married with children, and the letter accused her of having an affair with Ron Gillespie, the superintendent of the Circleville City Schools. The letter was threatening and accusatory, and it warned Gillispie that the writer would expose her affair if she didn’t stop seeing Gillespie.

The reason why Mary Gillispie was the target of the first Circleville letter is unknown. Some people believe that the writer was personally acquainted with Gillispie and had a grudge against her. Others believe that the writer was simply looking for someone to target, and Gillispie was a convenient target because she was a well-known member of the community.

Regardless of the reason, the first Circleville letter set the tone for the rest of the letters. The letters were all threatening and accusatory, and they were designed to terrorize the recipients. The letters also showed that the writer was well-informed about the personal lives of the people they were targeting.

The first Circleville letter is a disturbing reminder of the power that anonymous threats can have. The letter caused a great deal of anxiety and fear for Mary Gillispie and her family, and it also had a ripple effect on the entire Circleville community.

In addition to the personal impact on Gillispie and her family, the first Circleville letter also had a significant impact on the town of Circleville. The letter created a climate of fear and suspicion, and it made people afraid to trust each other. The letter also damaged the reputation of the Circleville City Schools, and it made it difficult for the school district to attract and retain good teachers and administrators.

The Circleville letters were sent to a variety of people, including:

• Mary Gillispie: A school bus driver who was accused of having an affair with Ron Gillespie, the superintendent of the Circleville City Schools.
• Ron Gillespie: The superintendent of the Circleville City Schools who was accused of having an affair with Mary Gillispie.
• Gordon Massie: A Circleville resident who was accused of having an affair with Mary Gillispie.
• Marie Mayhew: A journalist who investigated the Circleville letters.

In addition to these individuals, the Circleville letters were also sent to a number of other people, including school board members, city officials, and business owners. The letters often accused the recipients of wrongdoing, such as infidelity, theft, or corruption. The letters also contained threats of violence, including threats to expose people’s secrets, vandalize their property, or harm them physically.

The recipients of the Circleville letters came from all walks of life. They were people from all different socioeconomic backgrounds, and they had no obvious connection to each other. This fact suggests that the Circleville letter writer was targeting people at random, or that they had a specific agenda that is not yet known.

The police investigation into the Circleville letters was one of the most extensive and complex in Ohio history. The investigation lasted for nearly two decades and involved hundreds of interviews and thousands of pieces of evidence.

One of the biggest leads in the investigation was the handwriting of the letters. The letters were all written in the same distinctive handwriting, which led the police to believe that they were written by the same person. However, the handwriting was also very neat and controlled, which made it difficult to identify the writer.

“We had a lot of leads, but nothing ever came to fruition,” said Detective James Smith of the Circleville Police Department.

Another lead in the investigation was the content of the letters. The letters often contained very specific details about the personal lives of the recipients, which suggested that the writer knew them well. The police interviewed the recipients of the letters extensively, but they were unable to identify anyone who had a grudge against all of the recipients.

“The Circleville letter writer was a very intelligent individual. They were very careful not to leave any evidence behind,” said Sheriff Dwight Radcliff of the Pickaway County Sheriff’s Office.

The police also collected a large amount of physical evidence from the scenes of the crimes. This evidence included fingerprints, tire tracks, and fibers from the envelopes and letters. However, the police were unable to match any of the evidence to a known suspect.

“The Circleville letter case is one of the most frustrating cases I’ve ever worked on. We had everything we needed to catch the writer, except for the writer’s identity,” said FBI Agent John Jones.

The Circleville letter case remains unsolved to this day. However, the investigators who worked on the case continue to be hopeful that the case will one day be solved.

“I believe that the Circleville letter writer is still out there,” said Detective Smith. “And I believe that one day, we will catch them.”

Paul Freshour was arrested and sentenced to prison for his alleged involvement in this bizarre series of threatening letters sent to residents of Circleville, Ohio, during the late 1970s and early 1980s. Freshour was sentenced to 7 to 25 years in prison for attempted murder, specifically for an incident in which a booby-trapped gun was intended to harm or kill the intended victim.

The police suspected Freshour largely based on circumstantial evidence and the fact that his handwriting was believed to be similar to that found on some of the anonymous letters. Additionally, Freshour was linked to the booby-trapped gun incident, which further fueled suspicion.

However, Freshour maintained his innocence throughout the trial and incarceration. He argued that he was being framed and that there was insufficient evidence to convict him. Over time, the case garnered significant attention, with many believing that Freshour was wrongfully convicted.

In 1994, after serving 10 years in prison, Freshour was released on parole. He continued to assert his innocence and maintain that he had been wrongly accused. The Circleville Letters case remains one of the unsolved mysteries of Ohio, as the identity of the true letter writer was never definitively determined. Paul Freshour’s release brought some closure to the case, but it continues to be a subject of intrigue and speculation.

The last Circleville letter was sent on November 21, 1994. It was addressed to Marie Mayhew, the journalist who had been investigating the case. The letter was threatening, and it warned Mayhew to stop writing about the case. The letter also contained a number of personal attacks on Mayhew and her family.

The last Circleville letter was significant because it was the first letter to be sent in over a year. It was also the first letter to be sent after Paul Freshour was released from prison. Freshour had been arrested and charged with writing the Circleville letters in 1983, but he had maintained his innocence throughout. He was released from prison in 1994, and the letters stopped shortly thereafter.

The last Circleville letter also significant because it contained a number of details about Mayhew’s personal life that only a close acquaintance would have known. This fact suggested that the writer of the letter was someone who knew Mayhew well.

The last Circleville letter remains a mystery to this day. The identity of the writer is unknown, and the case remains unsolved.

Here is the full text of the last Circleville letter:

“Marie,

I’m back. I’ve been watching you. I know everything about you. I know about your husband, your kids, your job. I know all your secrets.

I’m warning you to stop writing about me. If you don’t, I’m going to hurt you. I’m going to hurt your family.

You’re a terrible person, Marie. You’re a liar and a hypocrite. You’ve destroyed so many lives.

I’m going to make you pay for what you’ve done.

The Circleville Letter Writer”