The Case of the Jitterbug Coal
I’m always looking for stories of New World fairies, so I was fluttering my wings in delight when I ran across this story:
PUPILS SAW A “PIXIE”
HOODED MAN HAUNTED SCHOOL BLITZED BY COAL HOD
Rancher in North Dakota Rural District Says Leaping Lignite Lumps Were Covered With a “Talcum.”
Richardton, N.D., April 14. George Steiner, Plum Creek rancher, today scoffed at the idea that Wild Plum rural schoolhouse’s mystery involving “jumping coal” and an “exploding dictionary” is connected with the supernatural.
Steiner, who has five children attending the Wild Plum school, said he was the first adult except the teacher, on the scene after mysterious spontaneous combustion of school books, maps, furniture and lumps of coal had wrecked the interior of the schoolroom March 28.
“I’ll admit it was uncanny to see lumps of coal leaping around the room,” Steiner said. “but it is my opinion that some kind of chemical was used to make it act that way.”
“DUST” ON COAL
Steiner said he picked up several lumps of coal and that they “were covered with a kind of a white dust that looked and smelled like talcum powder.” He said one chunk leaped violently from his hand “without making any noise at all.” But regardless of what parents in this little German-Russian community think, they are having a difficult time convincing their children that the schoolhouse has not been “verhexed” (bewitched) by a hooded mystery man who turned the schoolroom, according to the children, into a playground for prankish pixies.
Pupils insist they saw a hooded figure race by the schoolhouse window just as a pail of lignite coal, without apparent cause, started bombarding walls in an aerial blitz which sent the children scurrying under desks to escape injury.
But when they went outside, the hooded man had vanished.
Steiner’s 15-year-old daughter, Ismarie, declared the hooded mystery man started cutting capers several weeks ago when he began tacking notes on the schoolhouse door, rapping or kicking the door to gain attention, then slipping away.
HEARD EARLIER CALLS
Students, she said, were often startled during study periods by weird cat-calls from outside the building.
The climax came March 28 while Mrs. Pauline Rebel, the teacher, was giving an arithmetic test.
On that day, Ismarie declared, paper on which the children were writing caught fire in their hands and books in their desks suddenly started to burn. This was followed by an explosion of the dictionary and bombardment of the interior of the schoolroom by chunks of lignite coal which leaped from the coal scuttle next to the stove with explosive force great enough to punch holes through plastered walls. Kansas City [MO] Star 14 April 1944: p. 1
Mentally I started rubbing my hands together in glee. Adolescents and pixies! I’ve found other, earlier, stories of “little men” in connection with poltergeist-type hurlings [See The Face in the Window for one.] and here was another!
Investigators immediately started looking at more earthly explanations:
Dust on ‘Dancing Coal’ May Solve Mystery At Dakota School
Bismarck, N. Dak., April 15. A white dust that looks and smells like talcum powder may be a clue to what produced violent action in a pail of lignite coal which bombarded the interior of the Wild Plum schoolhouse in the Southern Stark County (N. Dak.) Badlands….
State authorities said the white powder was plain global salt commonly found on lignite coal in that vicinity….
Chemist’s Experiment Cited.
Special Assistant Attorney General W. James Austin and State Fire Marshal Charles Schwartz said a chemist consulted in the case has been able to combine two common household articles to produce a liquid which, when dried, left a residue that would burst into flame by spontaneous combustion. They said this residue might cause explosions, if submitted to heat or agitation.
Meanwhile, Wild Plum School patrons are clamoring for a solution. Unless something is done to clear up the case, they say, “there’ll be a lot of people who won’t send their children to that school again.”
‘Fool’s Gold’ Believed Cause of ‘Dancing Coal’
Philadelphia, April. 15. That “jitterbug” coal in the Wild plum rural schoolhouse near Richardton, N.Dak., probably got mixed up with some “fool’s gold,” says Samuel G. Gordon, curator of minerals at the Academy of Natural Sciences.
Mr. Gordon said whole beds of coal often become ignited in the Black Hills region, due to a high content of “fool’s gold,” or iron pyrites—chemically, iron sulphide.
If the coal is wet, he added, the combustion might be accompanied by a bit of hopping around. Evening Star [Washington DC] 15 April 1944: p. 18
The mystery got even weirder with a series of threatening notes and a phantom attacker.
Threat Notes, Masked Man Deepen Coal Mystery
A series of threatening notes pinned to the door of a lonely one room rural school house at the edge of western North Dakota’s Badlands and reports of a mysterious armed masked man have entered the case of the “jitterbug coal.”
Special Assistant States Attorney General W. James Austin and State Fire Marshal Charles Schwartz said Thursday night that Mrs. Pauline Reel, teacher of the Wild Plum rural school in Stark county told them she found the first note in mid-January. That was two months before the first of a series of mysterious explosions and smouldering bursts of smoke led school children and their parents to charge that the school house was “bewitched.” Dozen Notes
Austin said the notes, nearly a dozen in all, are in his and Schartz’s possession and are alternately threatening and obscene. He said that, because of the investigation being conducted by the fire marshal’s office the notes could not now be made public, but he did reveal that at least one of the series ordered Mrs. Rebel to “leave or be shot.”
Armed Man Appears.
Austin said Mrs. Rebel also told him and Schwartz that an armed man, about six feet tall and with a red bandana handkerchief masking the lower half of his face, came to the school early in March, kicked the door several times, and when Mrs. Rebel investigated, ran into hiding.
The notes, the report of the masked man, an innocuous coal bucket, some lumps of ordinary looking lignite coal, a charred map, a charred mail-order catalog and some charred inside pages of a dictionary are the clues Schwartz and Austin have on the mysterious going-son at the Plum Creek school.
At a hearing conducted earlier by Schwarts, he took testimony of the teacher, pupils and others about the mysterious actions of a pail of lignite coal near the school stove. The pail began to shake and pieces of coal popped around the school like Mexican jumping beans. The school has been closed pending an investigation.
Schartz’ office was called into the case by Stark County Superintendent of Schools, R.L. Swenson, who reported Plumb Creek officials had closed the school because of “strange happenings.”
All Tell Weird Tale
From the teacher, her eight pupils and a number of people of the community, Schwartz and Austin heard this weird tale.
On Mar. 17 and 18, strange noiseless explosions moved coal about in the coal bucket sitting next to the stove.
Again on Mar. 26, coal in the bucket began a restless stirring before the eyes of the youngsters.
Lumps of coal popped out of the bucket striking three walls of the school house with sufficient force to knock large holes in the plaster.
One lump of coal rebounded and struck a pupil, Jack Steiner. Another struck the teacher. The coal bucket tipped over of its own accord and what coal remained in it spilled over the floor. One youngster who picked up a piece of the coal told Schwartz, “It shook and jumped out of my hands.”
Window blinds smouldered, charred and fell to the floor. Smoke seeped from inside the pages of a dictionary lying on a table and part of a mail order catalog charred but did not flame.
Chemists Are Baffled.
Smoke also seeped from moulding around the windows and charred spots appeared on the face of a hanging map Schwatz and Austin submitted samples of the coal to chemists at the State Teachers college at Dickinson. Preliminary examination revealed no chemical which might have caused the explosive action but more exhaustive tests are being made. Chemists have been consulted and one reported to Austin that he had succeeded in combining two common household articles to produce a liquid which, when it dried, left a residue that would burst into flame or spontaneous combustion. The same residue, he told Austin, might cause explosions if submitted to heat or agitation.
Austin said that at present he could not reveal the two liquids mentioned by the chemist.
“Such a liquid,” Austin said, “could have been sprayed on the curtains, books, maps, mouldings and coal and it might possibly have produced the reactions reported by the teacher and pupils.”
No Way of Knowing.
“But we as yet have no way of knowing if that or a similar chemical compound has anything to do with this case,” Austin said.
“We are continuing our investigation. We don’t believe in “bewitchings.”
“We are looking for either a crackpot arsonist, with at least a smattering of chemical knowledge, or a hoaxer who so far has been singularly successful in his hoaxing.
“Frankly, at the present time we don’t know how he accomplished what he apparently has accomplished or why he has taken such action. But we haven’t given up. We intend to get to the bottom of this mystery.”
RANCHER SCOFFS AT SUPERNATURAL THEORY
Richardton, N.D. George Steiner, Plum Creek rancher, Friday scoffed at the idea that Wild Plum rural schoolhouse’s mystery involving “jumping coal” and an “exploding dictionary” is connected with the supernatural.
Steiner, who has five children attending the wild Plum school, said he was the first adult except the teacher to reach the scene after mysterious spontaneous combustion of school books, maps, furniture and lumps of coal had wrecked the interior of the school room Mar. 28.
“I’ll admit it was uncanny to see lumps of coal leaping around the room,” Steiner said, “but it is my opinion that some kind of chemical was used to make it act that way.” Coal Leaps From Hand
Steiner said he picked up several lumps of coal and that they “were covered with kind of a white dust that looked and smelled like talcum powder. He said one chuck leaped violently from his hand “without making any noise at all.”
But regardless of what parents in this little German-Russian community think, they are having a hard time convincing their children that the schoolhouse has not been “verhexed” (bewitched) by a hooded mystery man who turned the school room, according to the children, into a playground for prankish pixies.
Pupils insist they saw a hooded figure race by the schoolhouse window just as a pail of lignite coal, without apparent cause, started bombarding walls in an aerial blitz which sent the children scurrying under desks to escape injury.
But when they went outside the hooded man had vanished.
Steiner’s 15-year-old daughter, Ismarie, declared the hooded mystery man started cutting capers several weeks ago when he began tacking notes on the schoolhouse door, rapping or kicking the door to gain attention, then slipping away.
Cat-Calls
Students, she said, were often startled during study periods by weird cat-calls from outside the building. The climax came Mar. 28 while Mrs. Pauline Rebel, Wild Plum teacher, was giving an arithmetic test.
On that day, Ismarie declared, paper on which the children were writing caught fire in their hands and books in their desks suddenly started to burn. This was followed by an explosion of the dictionary and bombardment of the interior of the schoolroom by chunks of lignite coal which leaped form the coal scuttle next to the stove with force great enough to punch holes through plastered walls. The Bismarck [ND] Tribune 14 April 1944: p. 1, 3
Then, heart-breakingly, the whole mysterious edifice got top-heavy and came crashing down:
Jitterbug Coal Mystery Bared As Pupil Hoax
Optical Illusion to Fool Teacher, Say Students
Bismarck, N.D., April 18.
The “jitterbug coal” mystery which had puzzled the farmers of the Wild Plum school district at the edge of the Dakota badlands for more than a week, was a hoax perpetrated by four and possibly six of the school’s nine pupils, it was disclosed today.
Special Assistant Attorney General James W. Austin, who spent for days in the district questioning nearly 75 residents, said the pupils fabricated the story and created the optical illusion of the leaping lignite to “fool their teacher,” Mrs. Pauline Rebel, 22. The whole illusion, according to Austin, hinged upon the fact that Mrs. Rebel is near-sighted and in need of glasses stronger than those she normally wears.
The tall “masked stranger, the burning dictionary and threatening notes were part of the illusion,” Austin said.
“After we questioned nearly 75 persons,” Austin said, “one of our investigators asked one more question and the children broke down. One by one, they said they were tired of the mystery, and wanted to get it cleaned up.” Here is the story as Austin told it.
When the desire to “have a little fun” with Mrs. Rebel possessed the children, one of the oldest of the conspirators would throw a piece of coal at her. She reacted, naturally, by taking off her glasses, and then the school room would resound with shrikes because the coal would start jumping about everywhere.
When Mrs. Rebel stepped out of the classroom, one of the children started a blazed in the books, the bookcase and on the far side of the window blinds, and, by the time the school teacher returned, smoke would be pouring from each of the books and blinds would be on fire. Without her glasses, she became easy prey for the tall stories told by the wayward children, Austin said.
Austin said that George Steiner, father of five of the pupils doubted the story at first, but, he too, was convinced.
When the story of the jumping coal and the other stories began to get stale,” Austin said, the children fabricated the madman. One opened the door in March when Mrs. Rebel was supposed to have seen the masked six foot stranger. The child turned and yelled at Mrs. Rebel that a man was standing at the door with a gun. Then they started sending notes.
Mrs. Rebel, when reached for comment today, said she could not understand the ending of the weird mystery.
“I just can’t believe that the children did this,” she said. “If they did, why did I have to be used? I am too ashamed to talk.” Trenton [NJ] Evening Times 18 April 1944: p. 13
One imagines that poor Mrs. Rebel retired from teaching and went into a Decline. Her husband, Tony Rebel, was quoted as saying that “my wife won’t go back. She doesn’t want anything more to do with that school.” Richmond [VA] Times Dispatch 16 April 1944: p. 10
In a probably irrelevant note, it was extremely unusual for a married woman to be allowed to teach at this time, but this was war-time and perhaps residents in such an isolated spot felt they had no choice. Was there some neighborhood resentment towards her? In some articles she is specifically described as “pretty and blonde.”
A couple of points in this narrative are a touch confusing: Mrs. Rebel said she found the first note in January. The children claimed they tacked up the notes starting in March. The stories are not clear whether Mrs. Rebel really saw the man or not. The weird cat-calls coming from outside the building would have required some ventriloquist skills, and the students would have to find a way to hammer on the door without the teacher noticing–something probably made easier by her near-sightedness. George Steiner was skeptical about the supernatural, yet he claimed that the coal leapt from his hand—did it really? He was also the first on the scene–did he have a hand in any of this? Obscene and threatening notes could scarcely be called “a little fun.” Common “mean girl” behavior or community animosity against a woman working at the thankless job of teaching adolescents in an isolated setting? Someone may have been trying to force her out.
Death threat notes are a serious offense. Were the perps ever punished? (Sent down a coal mine, made to replace the burnt curtains and books….) And any thoughts on what the two common household chemicals might have been? The mixture would be great to break the ice at parties… Send a non-threatening note to Chriswoodyard8 AT gmail.com
Chris Woodyard is the author of The Victorian Book of the Dead, The Ghost Wore Black, The Headless Horror, The Face in the Window, and the 7-volume Haunted Ohio series. She is also the chronicler of the adventures of that amiable murderess Mrs Daffodil in A Spot of Bother: Four Macabre Tales. The books are available in paperback and for Kindle. Indexes and fact sheets for all of these books may be found by searching hauntedohiobooks.com. Join her on FB at Haunted Ohio by Chris Woodyard or The Victorian Book of the Dead.