It all started here in the hilly countryside of western Pennsylvania.
It was May 25th in 1961 in Barbourville, Pennsylvania. The town of Barbourville was located north of Pittsburgh with a population of 15,700 law-abiding people.
It was situated fifteen miles southwest of the town of Hampton and eighty miles southeast of the major city of Kingsville.
There was a two-lane country road that connected Barbourville to the towns of Kingsville and Hampton. This road was Amster Road and provided a beautiful view of the rolling countryside for this part of Pennsylvania.
Amster Road ran south from Kingsville for fifty-five miles. Then Amster Road made a forty-five-degree bend to the left and headed east for fifteen miles.
During that fifteen-mile trek east, Amster Road went over a section of the Brandywine Lake by way of an old wooden bridge constructed in 1939.
Brandywine Lake was a skinny lake that ran north and south with depths of twenty-five feet. It had cabins along the shore where the local people loved to relax and fish during the summer months.
Before the wooden bridge was constructed, Amster Road dead-ended on the east and western shores of the Brandywine Lake. A bumpy dirt road provided the detour around the northern part of the lake so drivers could get back onto Amster road. During these times, Amster Road was the only way to get to the larger town of Kingsville. This dirt detour was rough on the trucks that left the General Motors plant to deliver the new Chevrolets.
Amster Road made another forty-five degree bend to the right and headed straight into Barbourville.
Amster Road changed names and was called Shady Hill Avenue when it ran straight through Barbourville.
It turned back into Amster Road again after exiting the northern part of town.
The primary industry in Barbourville was the General Motors plant that now assembled the Chevrolet Bel-Air and Corvair. The plant opened for business in 1936 and was located on Montvale Circle.
Montvale Circle started from Amster Road south of town then ran a circle around the western part in the city and ended on Shady Hill Avenue at the northeastern end of town.
At the northeastern part of town was located the Barbourville College. It had well-known engineering English, fine arts, nursing, and science programs. The college was founded in 1918 and was located off Shady Hill Avenue.
Barbourville was a friendly and great town to raise a family.
Shumaker's Lounge was located near the General Motors plant, and the majority of the patrons were workers from the plant. They loved to stop off there for a drink after a hard day of assembling the 1961 Bel-Air and Corvair.
This evening, Michael Osborne sat alone at a booth inside the Shumaker's Lounge off Montvale Circle.
He was twenty-seven years old and was handsome with a Rock Hudson style of black hair and piercing blue eyes.
Michael looked like he lacked the lust for life and hadn't slept in days by the bags under his eyes and five days of beard stubble.
He glanced at a Barbourville Times newspaper on his table. It was placed next to four empty glasses. His fifth glass of whiskey and water was next to a pack of Marlboro cigarettes, lighter and an ashtray with five cigarette butts.
Michael picked up the glass and took a drink. He set the glass down and continued to look depressed at a newspaper article.
The article had the "Local Woman Shot and Drowned In Brandywine Lake" headline.
The article also had a black and white photo of Jennifer Stodden, his twenty-seven-year-old fiancé. She had black hair in a Bouffant hairstyle and wore black cat eyeglasses. She was a beautiful woman with light blue eyes, a warm smile.
Michaels's eyes welled up while he glanced at Jennifer's photo. He smashed his cigarette into the ashtray.
Kenneth Mueller in a black suit, white shirt, and white tie and Fedora hat in hand walked up to Michel's booth smoking a Lucky Strike cigarette.
Kenneth was a twenty-seven-year-old unattractive man with thinning hair. He had acne pot marks on both cheeks and a four-inch scab across the middle of his forehead.
Kenneth frowned at the sight of Michael drinking alone at the lounge. "Are you going to live at Shumaker's for now on?" Kenneth asked while he sat down in the booth across from Michael. Kenneth took another drag on his cigarette then put it out in the ashtray.
"Maybe," Michael replied without taking his eyes off the newspaper article.
"You never frequented this place," Kenneth said. He frowned when he saw the newspaper article about Jennifer.
The skinny old waitress Nancy walked up to Kenneth. "Hey, sugar. Want your usual?" she asked.
"Tonight, I'll take three shots of Jack Daniels," Kenneth replied.
Nancy smiled and walked away.
"I know you miss her. But she drowned and drinking yourself to death won't bring her back to life. And don't worry, I'll find the killer," Kenneth said then paused. "Because I carry a badge," Kenneth said in his best impression of Sergeant Friday from the Dragnet Show. He hoped to get a chuckle out of Michael. He did not.
Michael reached out and removed another cigarette from the pack of Marlboros. He grabbed the lighter and lit his cigarette.
"When did you start smoking?" Kenneth asked.
Michael ignored his question and took a drag.
Nancy walked back to the booth with her tray in hand. She placed three shots of whiskey in front of Kenneth.
"Who would shoot at her then force her car off the bridge and into the lake? Who would do such a horrible thing? Jennifer didn't have any enemies. Everybody loved her. She was the love of my life," he said while he glanced over at Kenneth and tears rolled down his cheek.
"I know," Kenneth replied, then avoided looking at the newspaper article. He grabbed one of his shot glasses and downed the whiskey.
"And why was she driving to the cabin so late at night? That doesn't make any sense," Michael said while he looked at Kenneth with tears running down his cheeks.
"I don't know buddy," Kenneth replied then grabbed the second shot glass and downed the whiskey.
"She drowned. She was terrified of being in the water. She drowned," he said while his eyes welled up.
Michael looked at Kenneth. "How did you get that cut on your forehead?" he asked as he forgot.
"A drunk the other night," said Kenneth then he looked worried about something while he took the third shot glass and downed the whiskey.
"Barbourville has been a nice place to live with hardly any major crimes. I can't remember anybody being murdered during my lifetime," Michael said while he looked at Kenneth for answers.
"Like I said, buddy, I'll use all my energy to find her killer. I promise."
"Thanks," Michael said while he folded up the newspaper to stop looking at Jennifer's picture.
While Kenneth smoked his cigarette, he avoided that newspaper article of Jennifer.
He put his cigarette out in the ashtray on the coffee table. He gave Nancy a little motion to come over to the booth.
Nancy walked over.
"Put my shots and his drinks on my tab," he told her.
"Sure sugar," Nancy replied, then walked away.
"You better get home. I don't want you don't end up a drunk like my old man," he said, then slid out of his booth and walked over to Michael.
Michael grabbed his newspaper and got out of the booth.
Kenneth walked Michael to the door of the Lounge.
Outside Shumaker's Lounge, Kenneth walked Michael to his white four-door 1958 Chevrolet Bel-Air.
"I'll follow you home to make sure you arrive safe," Kenneth said while Michael got behind his wheel.
Michael motioned that that was okay with him. He started up his car.
Kenneth rushed over to his black four-door 1960 Chevrolet Bel-Air car parked close to Michael's car. He got behind the wheel and started it up. This was his car from the Barbourville police department since Kenneth had been a detective for the past three years.
Kenneth drove his Bel-Air and followed Michael's Bel-Air all the way to his house on Dorothy Avenue, located in the Brandywine Estates.
After Michael went inside, Kenneth sat behind the wheel of his Bel-Air.
His hands shook a little while he glanced over at the white cottage style house with black shutters to the left of Michael's. That cottage house was where Jennifer Stoddard lived.
He reached under his seat and removed a Jack Daniels bottle. He opened it and took a massive gulp of whiskey. He placed the bottle between his legs, started his car up, then backed down the driveway.
Kenneth drove his Bel-Air away down Dorothy Avenue while taking an occasional drink of whiskey. He looked bothered and a little nervous.
Kenneth drove his Bel-Air through the stop sign while he made a left turn onto Woodland Avenue. He was lucky there was no traffic on Woodland at the moment.