1909: THE AMAZING HENRY BROPHY
Of all the strange phenomena that have occurred in the Janesville area
of southern Wisconsin, there is nothing quite as strange as the case of
Henry James Brophy.

"In 1909, Henry James Brophy was eleven years old. He lived with his
grandparents, Mr. And Mrs. Knut K. Lunde of Mount Horeb, Wisconsin and
attended the village grade school. Like many shy, delicate children, he
had few close friends. He also had no extraordinary talents...or so
everyone thought."

"At noon on Tuesday, March 9, 1909, Henry arrived home from school for
lunch. In opening the side door of his grandparents' home, he was struck
on the back by a snowball that broke and splattered across the floor.
The boy spun around, but there was no one in sight."

"The next day," Wednesday, March 10, 1909, "at the same time, the same
thing happened. The Lundes checked the yard and sidewalk but found no
assailant."

"On Thursday evening," March 11, 1909, "cups suddenly flew from the
dinner table and crashed to the floor, lamp chimneys disintegrated with
no one touching them, spools of thread unwound, and bars of soap soared
through the air. The family was terrorized, especially frail Mrs. Lunde."

On Friday, March 12, 1909, Henry's mother, Mrs. Lucille Trainor (no
relation-J.T.) arrived from Madison (Wisconsin) to attend a family
funeral and spend the night with her parents and her sister, who also
lived in the Lunde home."

"Early in the evening, Mrs. Trainor sat down to play the organ. In that
instant, household utensils took to the air, banging against the walls
and crashing to the floor. (Knut) Lunde became so agitated that the
family sent for Reverend Mostrom. The minister came promptly, bringing
Sam Thompson with him. As the two men entered the house, a hymnal that
had been lying on the windowsill near the door fell to the floor at
their feet."

"The Lundes screamed, 'There! You see it!?'"

"Reverend Mostrom listened attentively to their story and tried to find
a rational explanation for the manifestations. When someone mentioned
that the playing of the organ seemed to activate the objects, the
minister sat down to play. Thompson walked the floor with the boy at his
side. Suddenly, Henry yelled, 'Look out!' A large butcher knife left the
table, arced through the air and fell at their feet. Thompson said later
that the boy could not have possibly touched it."

Night after night, "objects flew around the rooms. Doors crashed to the
floor after the screws holding their hinges were removed by unseen
forces, lids flew off the wood stove, and chimneys of the kerosene lamps
broke as soon as they were set into place."

"A drawer in the sewing machine came free and soared high in the room,
scattering bobbins, spools of thread and needles in every direction, and
knocking plaster from a wall."

"A table knife, flying through the air, struck the floor at the
grandmother's (Mrs. Lunde's) feet, and an ornament from a heating stove
was pulled loose and thrown across the room. When family members retired
for the night, showers of coal fell upon them."

As expect, "the Mount Horeb poltergeist" became an instant sensation.
"News of the phenomena spread rapidly beyond the confines of" Mount
Horeb, "attracting the attention of clairvoyants, curiosity-seekers and
newsmen."

"On a single night" in April 1909, "two hundred people streamed through
the Lunde house, leaving tracks of muddy footprints. They saw no
manifestations, the only damage said to have been done by flying
household objects."

"If the Lundes could not explain what was happening in their home, some
of Mount Horeb's residents believed they could. Two prominent citizens
said that because the large brick house had both electricity and a
telephone, it had become 'electrified.' They claimed that this
electrification was causing the disturbances and insisted upon cutting
the electric wires to put an end to the 'spell.'"

"But the distraught family, fearing darkness more than the chaos, tossed
the intruders out."

"Finally, because the phenomena always occurred in Henry's presence and
because the flying objects always seemed to travel toward the child, the
family concluded that he must be somehow responsible for them. They
reasoned that, if Henry were removed from the house and the strange
manifestations continued, then perhaps electricity was the cause."

As a result, Henry was sent by train to Springdale, Wisconsin to stay
temporarily with his uncles, Hans and Andrew Lundes."

"Henry spent one day at Hans's house, during which time only a few small
objects took flight."

However, "at Andrew's home, the poltergeist activity increased. No
sooner had Henry entered the house than a pail of water began spinning,
then spilled across the kitchen floor. After that had been mopped up,
Henry, spying a mirror on the wall, said, 'You better take that down.'
The older man laughed. A moment later, the mirror crashed to the floor."

In addition to these strange events, Henry developed the ability to make
marbles disappear. "A neighbor boy came over to play...and the two boys
played marbles." Then, while lining up his shot, the marbles suddenly
shimmered and vanished.

"Don't worry," Henry told his playmate, "I think I can find them."

And find them he did! "Only Henry knew where they had gone. By some
means, he always found them, even those tucked into quilts on the bed."

"After the neighbor boy left, Andrew tried an experiment. He held a
cigar box of marbles before his nephew, who sat facing him on a chair.
The marbles leaped from the box; the startled uncle said the boy had
never touched them."

Returning to Mount Horeb, the Lunde family "consulted a number of
physicians. It had been noted that the child was running a high fever
and was losing weight. According to his mother, he was also experiencing
moody, cross spells, during which times he refused to have anything to
do with anyone."

"The doctors thought the manifestations were delusions or fakes.
Churchmen were less certain. A prayer meeting was held one evening at
the Lunde house to exorcise the unseen forces, but it resulted only in
an increase in manifestations."

"Finally, it was decided to have Henry examined by Dr. George Kingsley
of Madison, Wisconsin, who was a spiritualist, and a physician, Otto
Dahle, who was on his way to Milwaukee on business, accompanied Henry to
Kingsley's office. During the few minutes that the boy was in the
office," Dr. Kingsley "pronounced him a splendid medium for his age,
destined to become one of the world's greatest spiritualists. He
explained that Henry did not yet have the spirits under control, but
that he would gain control of them later."

"Other clairvoyants were more specific. They saw three spirits-two women
and one man-hovering near the child. They did not explain who the
spirits were. Henry's mother recalled that when her son was small he had
been cared for two women spiritualists, one of whom later died. Could
she have passed on to the child her supernatural powers? Some people
thought so. The three seers also said that the spirits were oppressed by
crowds; for that reason, the manifestations never occurred when Henry
was in school or when large groups of people came to" the Lunde
farmhouse, now the town's leading tourist attraction.

One of the more interesting theories about Henry was forwarded by Merton
P. Peavey, the editor of the Dodgeville, Wis. Chronicle. Peavey said he
"believed Henry had been hypnotized by someone and left in a hypnotic
trance."

Like nearly all poltergeist manifestations, the Mount Horeb case petered
out in a few months. "Today only a handful of Mount Horeb residents who
remember Henry are still alive, and their remembrances are dimmed by
time...Edwin Offerdahl of rural Mount Horeb says that Henry got rid of
'it,' whatever it was. He and Henry had worked for the (Wisconsin
Central) railroad after school, and Offendahl believes that Henry got
married and moved to California. Others recall that he had gone to
Madison or Milwaukee" sometime in 1914 or 1915.

As for the old Lunde house, which was still standing in 1985, a resident
in later years reported an odd phenomenon. "Jan Kogen, who had also
lived in the house, recalls that strange things happened every day for a
year," decades after Henry left town. A camera the family owned kept
taking pictures on its own and finally had to be replaced."

Such was the strange case of Henry James Brophy, forgotten but never
solved. (See the book Haunted Wisconsin by Beth Scott and Michael
Norman, Heartland Press, Minocqua, Wis., sixth printing, 1988, pages 141
to 149.)