I have to say that I'm surprised that I haven't read this before now, as I'm a confirmed horror fan, and, whether this account is even marginally "true" (doubtful, at this point), it certainly fits the bill. And the story of the story is as fascinating, and, in some ways, appalling, as the novel, which readers can decide for themselves if it's fact or (largely) fiction.
Even if it's just a novel (and that's part of the allure - is it, or isn't it?...) it's a good one. Told from a documentary-style, journal-piece perspective, this thoroughly terrifying book recounts one of the most famous haunted house stories in American history, one which has spawned an untold number of similar ghost stories and a seemingly-endless stream of stupendously awful movies and books featuring "Amityville" in the title. Most of them died out with the 20th century, but one still manages to pop up from time to time, so the far-reaching influence of this story can't be overstated - the last iteration (remake) was in 2005. The author reportedly based the book's title on an H.P. Lovecraft novel, "The Dunwich Horror," published in 1929, so even that isn't exactly original.
THE BACKDROP
The sinister-looking, almost-black Colonial-style house with the curious "eye" windows is one of the most recognizable horror icons in the world. It's especially striking in the black-and-white photos of the period, which were widely publicized after the gruesome murder of the DeFeo family. The background for this whole woeful tale: in the early morning hours of November 13, 1974, Ronald "Butch" DeFeo, a 23-year-old ne'er-do-well auto mechanic reportedly slaughtered six members of his own family with a high-powered rifle as they lay sleeping, and possibly drugged, all face-down in their beds. He apparently first shot both his parents, twice each - and then killed his 18-year-old sister Dawn, 13-year-old Allison, 12-year-old Mark and 9-year-old John, all but the parents with a single rifle shot in the back.
Questions remain, but regardless of how the killings actually occurred, the origins of the Amityville Horror were born.
Who knows where this notion even originated, but DeFeo, probably desperate to escape the death penalty, and his defense attorney claimed that Ronnie had been driven to his dark deeds by some kind of demonic presence in the house - subsequently, he pleaded not guilty by reason of insanity in a kind-of "the-devil-made-me-do-it" defense (which was later the subject of one of the Conjuring movies, actually, although that involved yet another event). The jury didn't buy it, but DeFeo did eschew execution, receiving six consecutive life sentences. He died in prison in 2021 at the age of 69.
THE STORY
Perhaps part of the story's perpetual allure is that it at least purports to be BASED on actual events, which is a terrifying prospect in and of itself. As the book notes, some of the names of the individuals were changed, so tracking them down pre-Internet for follow-up was something of a challenge. Father "Mancuso" in the book, for example, is actually Father Pecoraro, the priest who first comes to bless the house, and has some unsettling experiences himself upon entering, eventually developing blisters on his hands reminiscent of some type of demonic stigmata.
This novel is reportedly based on 45 hours of tape-recorded testimony recounted by the Lutzes, who claimed to have experienced the events firsthand. If you've read this far, you know the bare bones of the story, pardon the pun: the house is real, located on Ocean Avenue in quaint Amityville, an affluent suburb located on Long Island. The story goes, after the grisly murders, the house sat vacant for 13 months, until it was sold at a rock-bottom price to George Lutz and his wife, Kathy, along with her three children from a previous marriage. The family lasted a reported 28 days in the house before they fled, never to return, not even to reclaim their personal possessions.
The day the family moved in, just before Christmas, the couple had a priest come to bless the house, as a matter of course, as practicing Catholics. That may have been the first mistake: as the book notes, Father "Mancuso" reported that immediately upon entering the home, he heard a vicious voice yell at him to "GET OUT!" He also reported that he was slapped by some unseen force in Kathy Lutz's sewing room. Further, he continued to be plagued by a flu-like illness and other paranormal happenings even after leaving the house - like the phone erupting in deafening static every time he attempted to contact the hapless family.
Shortly thereafter, the Lutzes also began to experience odd occurrences. These included tried-and-true, stock haunted-house and poltergeist fare such as objects moving by themselves, levitation, visions of apparitions and shadow figures (the red-eyed pig figure whom Lutz's stepdaughter calls "Jodie" is a novel addition), doors violently ripped from their hinges, cabinet doors opening and slamming shut, an unexplained black fly infestation in one of the room, despite the fact that it was the dead of winter, noxious odors reminiscent of feces emanating from various rooms in the house (which Mancuso also reported at his residence, indicating that the unseen force could even affect locales off-property), the discovery of a hidden well and a concealed room in the basement, and, even green slime ala "Ghostbusters" oozing from doors and which flowed UP the stairs. Curious that no one thought as Egon Spengler did to save some of it and analyze it!
George also reported disturbing personality changes in the whole family, including the family dog, almost from the outset. Even more disturbing, frankly, which I DON'T doubt, is the (apparent) admission, in the novel at least, by both George and Kathy, that they routinely beat their kids. George also claimed that he couldn't get warm while in the house, no matter how much heating oil and wood he burned, and that he would mysteriously awaken at 3:15 every morning, which is when the DeFeo murders were believed to have occurred.
And then, in addition to the sights, sounds and smells, the attacks started, with ever-increasing severity. Kathy reported numerous instances of being touched, and smelling perfume, especially while in the kitchen. Some of the encounters were almost warm and friendly, but others were frightening as she later reported being restrained and roughly squeezed. Both George and Kathy reportedly experienced hallucinations, on one occasion, with Kathy transforming into a hideous old woman. Both also allegedly experienced levitation, another horror film staple, paralysis from unseen forces pressing down on them, and strange injuries and marks on their bodies.
Even people loosely associated with the house reportedly experienced strange phenomena, including Father Mancuso, who developed a strange flu-like illness resulting in periodic bouts of high fever, as did a paranormal researcher who made arrangements to investigate the house, as well as the aforementioned strange bleeding blisters on Father Mancuso's hands. All these "symptoms" may seem familiar tropes in the modern day, nearly a half-century later, but it's important to recall that this book was largely responsible for establishing a mainstream horror "canon" for both books and film, large-screen and small, that developed in its wake: it set both the tone and the "rules" for hauntings and possessions for generations to come.
En fin, after a freak storm "trapped" them in the house for one last night, the family reportedly fled to Kathy's mother's home, but the demonic force had "attached" itself to them and followed, continuing to oppress them, resulting in more levitation and sleepless nights. It appears that they finally "escaped," not with an exorcism, but by moving across a body of water to California, which spirits apparently can't cross in pursuit of their victims.
The people who seemingly couldn't escape the "oppression" associated with the house, however... The new owners. The family who purchased it immediately after the Lutzes were also forced from the house - by rabid fans. They were so incessantly harassed by sightseers obsessed with the book and the movie - some of whom reportedly came right up to the door, even ringing the bell to ask for Ronnie DeFeo, and stole pieces of the facade, prying loose roof shingles and even chunks of the lawn, that they, too eventually became fed up, packed and left.
Another event which catapulted this story to global acclaim - or notoriety, depending - was the involvement of arguably two of the most famous paranormal investigators in the world, about whom yet another string of popular films have been made - Ed and Lorraine Warren. I don't have the space to go into it here, but the Warrens' involvement in this account, along with other paranormal researchers, brought it far more publicity than it likely would have garnered otherwise.
THE CONTROVERSY
Despite initial assurances that they weren't looking for fame or fortune and could keep things on the down-low until paranormal investigators could conduct some pretense at an actual scientific inquiry, word got out pretty quickly about the Lutzes' experiences in the already-notorious murder house. The novel was published in 1977, becoming an almost-overnight sensation which shot to the top of the NY Times bestseller list. It has remained one of the most popular horror novels in history. Not surprisingly, Hollywood shortly thereafter came calling, and the first movie, which was at least decent, was released in 1979. Hate to say it, but, not surprisingly, considering the initial windfall, a spate of low-budget trash followed. To date, there are a reported 17 "official" movies, and hundreds of "copycats" which capitalize on the "BASED on a true story" byline.
Thus, one of the most famous ghost stories in history became one of the most financially successful ventures in entertainment history. The Lutzes reportedly earned an estimated $300k for their tale, which was the tip of a continent-sized iceberg. WAAAAY back in 1979, the film grossed some $50 million in theaters. The Lutzes eventually auctioned all their possessions left in the house, so it wasn't like they lost out completely. They also reportedly got a 50 percent share of the book money.
Despite the popularity of this whole franchise, however, decades later, most now accept that the whole account is the result of an elaborate hoax, and a lucrative one at that. That largely stems from the admission of DeFeo's defense attorney, William Weber, who eventually revealed that he and the Lutzes concocted the whole story over a few bottles of wine one evening. However, that was AFTER they had already fled the house, so something had to have been going on for them to abandon it, which they eventually surrendered to the bank, after auctioning most of the contents. That gave rise to the opinion that the family simply up and left after George's business ran afoul of the IRS, which the book mentions.
In short: the couple had become badly over-leveraged, with George's toys like the boats he couldn't afford, and likely concocted the whole haunting story as a way to make a quick buck to get back on their feet - with a little help. The couple had been looking for a home in the $30 to $50k range, but purchased the "DeFeo House" for $80k, double their initial budget. George reportedly thought he could save money by running his surveying business from home and by storing his watercraft in the boathouse to save on marina fees, but that apparently wasn't sufficient to keep the family financially afloat. And: what a way to get out from under suspicion of stealing your brother-in-law's money than to claim a demon did it! In the end, many skeptics have suggested that they just couldn't keep up with the payments, and needed an out. Maybe they took a page from Ronnie's playbook and found one.
There are clues throughout that not all is what it seems.
And, then, there's Weber. He had been scouting offers for a book deal based on the DeFeo homicides, and apparently hit upon a winning idea. He later stated on the TV program "A Current Affair" in 1988 that "we took real-life incidents and transposed them... in other words, it was a hoax." He claimed, for example, that a neighbor's cat would look into the window at night - the cat morphed into the red-eyed pig monster. The origin of the green slime story was similarly mundane: apparently Ronnie's father had once struck his wife one evening while she was holding a plate of spaghetti, which splattered all over one of the walls, which somehow eventually gave rise to the green slime that mysteriously materialized in the house. And they were collaborators: Weber gave the Lutzes details about the house only he knew, having spent countless hours with Ronnie, but the confabulators parted ways after a fight over how the money from their sweet deal would be allocated - keep reading.
George, who died in 2006, maintained to the end the alleged truth of the events, however, stating that he had just reported what he and his family had actually experienced. Riiiiight.
A couple of the other family members have also spoken out over the years, with conflicting reports about the veracity of the more salacious occurrences. Daniel, who was ten at the time he lived in the house, stated that most of the events, especially the more sensational ones, hadn't actually happened, but that he genuinely believed that his stepfather had invited, intentionally or unintentionally, malevolent forces into the home on account of his near-obsession with the occult, which the book alludes to in the couple's practice of Transcendental Meditation, which even their priest warned them about.
The other son, Chris, who was seven at the time, also stated that the events were largely fictionalized, but likewise attested that his stepfather harbored an interest in the occult, and that unsettling events had genuinely occurred during his 28-day tenure in the house. Chris reported that he did see a menacing shadow figure approach him and that his bedroom window would bang open and shut, but the frequent windstorms could at least account for the latter. Chris was adamant that the haunting was NOT a complete hoax, unlike some others, but admitted that his stepfather, at least, had fabricated many of the more outrageous events, like the appearance of the green slime and heavy doors being ripped from their hinges.
And, then there's the matter of the outright contradictions. As for "Father Mancuso:" the plot thickens. He allegedly reported that he had never even been to the house, according to "Newsday Magazine," and certainly never had an overwhelming stench of feces materialize at his home. He also reportedly just referred the Lutzes to a local parish priest, whom they never contacted. Another figure, "Zammatero" (Camerato), who was allegedly shown the garage door damage and the pig tracks, also denied that he was ever at the property. The book also states that George Lutz consulted the Amityville Historical Society about the property, which informed him that the house was situated on a site where Shinnecock Indians once housed their sick, dying and insane, and believed that the land was inhabited by "demons," but the curator of the museum states that the Shinnecock never resided anywhere in the region and that Lutz never even visited until after he left the house.
The most damning evidence that nothing was actually going on in the house is the fact that it has changed hands - and colors - numerous times since the Lutzes lived there - and no one else has reported paranormal activity. It's hard to believe that arguably the most renowned, even violent, haunted house in the country suddenly dried up like the defunct well concealed in its basement. The famous "eye" windows on the third floor have also since been altered, as has even the house number - reportedly from 112 to 108, although this could hardly deter curious sightseers. The house with the iconic "eye windows" is still world-famous.
One thing that did strike me: the punctuation. I think one of the "tells," of a perhaps "exaggerated" event, is when the passage is punctuated by an exclamation mark (!). Not sure if this is intentional, but it is somewhat thought-provoking. There are many other sensational events without one, so why do only certain happenings appear in the text this way... Let the reader use discernment.
THE LAWSUITS
As if this story couldn't get any wilder: unleash the lawyers. Good grief.
The first conflict over money erupted between old pals George Lutz and his collaborator, one William Weber, who sued him over how the money from their sordid tale was to be split, even as early as 1978. The matter was reportedly settled out of court, and the terms remained confidential. Even at the time, however, Lutz reported in federal court in Brooklyn that he had so far netted a cool $100k for the book and another six figures from the film. Lest you think that this is an example of an ambulance-chasing lawyer getting greedy: George Lutz had previously filed a ONE-MILLION-DOLLAR lawsuit against Weber, but that was tossed out by the judge.
And - to top it off: one of the policemen named in the book (ostensibly not the red-eyed oinker who left trotter tracks in the snow) sued BOTH the Lutzes AND the book publisher Bantam for the way in which the cops were portrayed regarding their official position on the "hauntings" and the murders. And WHY NOT? Everyone can get their piece of the pie! GOOD LORD.
And, lest you likewise think that was finis: NOPE. In 2003, George Lutz actually sued his STEPSON Chris in a Nevada district court over allegations of "trademark infringement and fraud" involving a future Amityville movie. Chris then filed a counterclaim. The family seemingly fell on hard times shortly after Amityville became a household name, with the younger stepson leaving home after repeated clashes with his stepfather, at age sixteen. George and Kathy also divorced in 1988, 'round about the time that he and DeFeo's defense lawyer admitted that they had made the whole thing up. Younger sister Melissa remains missing in action, apparently relishing her privacy and not wanting to get caught up in this $***show. Good for her.
ALL that said: yeah, I did like the novel, even if that's ALL it is. And, you have to admit, this account, which *allegedly* occurred in 1975, essentially created the "possessed house" genre, setting the bar for MANY future, similar stories, and rocketed paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren to fame and international renown, and, some would argue, infamy, or at least, ignominy all their own.
