This article is a reprint from 2015.
During my research for the first Irvington Haunts book, I was gathering information about the 1925 D.C. Stephenson / Madge Oberholtzer tragedy in Irvington. I had heard of the deathbed declaration obtained from Madge by a lawyer hired by the family. Madge’s nine page dying declaration had taken on a life of it’s own and was reportedly still being used by students at Indiana University law school as reference to this very day. I’ve read graphic excerpts, but never the entire document. However, I was rewarded in my search with the discovery of a man who has since become one of my heroes in life, even though he died when I was 10 1/2 years old in 1973.
Asa Jessup Smith was born in Wabash, Indiana on January 20, 1894, the child of a Methodist father and a Quaker mother. His father, Andrew Jackson Smith, was a Civil War veteran. His mother, Louisa Frances (Jessup) Smith, distinguished herself as one of the first women in the United States to graduate from medical school. His grandfather served with distinction as a Union Army surgeon during the Civil War. Asa graduated from DePauw University in 1915 and from Indiana University Law School two years later in 1917.
If Asa is to be remembered by present day historians, he will be remembered as the man who obtained Madge Oberholtzer’s deathbed statement, which helped convict the Grand Dragon of the Indiana Ku Klux Klan, D.C. Stephenson. Asa was only eight years out of I.U. Law School when he found himself smack dab in the center of the Stephenson scandal. Klan leader and Irvington homeowner D.C. Stephenson was charged with kidnapping and sadistically attacking Miss Madge Oberholtzer in March of 1925. She was abused so viciously during a train trip to Hammond, Indiana that she swallowed six tablets of mercury bichloride poison and later died.
“I had been hired by the Oberholtzer family to handle legal affairs and the night Madge Oberholtzer was returned here I was called to their home. I remained at the Oberholtzer home day and night taking down the final words from that girl before she died,” recalled Asa Smith in a March 20, 1969 interview from the Indiana State library archives. The Oberholtzers had first contacted lawyer Smith on the morning of March 16, 1925 when their daughter failed to return home from a visit to the Stephenson mansion the night before.
According to Asa Smith’s own notes, on the evening of March 28, 1925, almost two weeks after the brutal attack, four grim-faced people gathered at the girl’s bedside in her home at the corner of Dewey and University in Irvington. They were Asa Smith, Irvington doctor John Kingsbury, an unnamed attorney and unidentified woman who was known to be Madge’s closest friend. When it became clear that Madge would not recover, Smith decided to record and preserve her testimony in a statement which would be admissible as evidence in the prosecution of Klan leader Stephenson and others involved in her impending death.
Dr. Kingsbury, after consulting with other physicians who had also examined Madge earlier, told the young woman that she would not recover. Bravely, Madge stated that she was already aware of that fact and she was ready to die. Lawyer Smith then explained the purpose of the proposed declaration. The nine page statement took hours to collect and transcribe. Smith’s court testimony was that he then had the statement typed out and presented to the dying girl. Madge’s condition made it difficult for her to read the manuscript herself, so Asa Smith carefully and slowly read the typed statement aloud to the poor girl one ponderous sentence at a time. If Madge suggested any corrections, Asa made them himself in ink and then reread the sentence to her for accuracy. When Asa finished reading and correcting the statement, he asked Madge to attest to it’s authenticity by signing it in the presence of the four witnesses.
Asa was so concerned about the proliferation of the Klan in every branch of Indiana government that he refused to allow anyone to see or read the statement until he produced it on the witness stand during the trial. Stephenson’s defense attorney, Eph Inman, cross-examined Asa Smith for eight hours during the trial in an effort to poke holes in this deathbed declaration of guilt. He failed. The statement was accepted as fact just as if Madge herself was testifying from beyond the grave. It’s widely acknowledged that it was this statement that sprung from the brilliant mind of Indianapolis attorney Asa J. Smith assured Stephenson’s conviction and would ultimately lead to the death of the Ku Klux Klan.
Asa was a conservative Republican lawyer, writer, politician, historian and most importantly a Marine. He served as a private in World War I and as a lieutenant colonel in World War II. Asa is one of the best examples of an unsung Hoosier hero I’ve ever come across. He was a true fighter for the underdog and everyone who came in contact with him seemed to love and admire him. Despite his family’s strong religious affiliation, Asa was an unashamed agnostic. A complicated man to say the least, Asa was considered to be an expert on the works of William Shakespeare who at the same time was equally enamored with Disney’s Mickey Mouse — an intellectual combination that is hard to resist.
My favorite attribute of Asa Smith was his sharp wit. According to all who knew him, no one escaped the barbs of Asa’s humor. In spite of his self-description as a religious agnostic, which is defined as a person who will not commit to believing or not believing in God, Asa was often invited to speak with clergy and debate theological questions. Asa delighted in meeting a clergyman for the first time with the question, “So what branch of the Superstition do you embrace?” Asa would crack a wry smile as he witnessed the shocked reaction of the subject of his query. Smith’s booming voice and jovial manner allowed him to be acerbic without appearing mean.
On another occasion, Asa met a Senator from Georgia and proceeded to tell his southern host that his father had once lived in the Peach Tree State. The Senator seemed quite pleased at the news and asked Asa what part of Georgia did his dad hail from, to which Asa replied “Nowhere for long. He accompanied General Sherman on his excursion to the sea.”
If only one word were used to describe Asa Smith, that word would be “Fighter.” Exactly six months to the day after he enlisted as a Marine, Asa was wounded in a mustard gas attack while serving in France with the 4th Marine Brigade while blunting the German advance into Paris in March of 1918. Although this gas attack was severe, it was not enough to take Asa out of action. Asa was wounded in action at Belleau Wood later in the war. This wound would take Asa out of service. The after-effects of the gas attack would eventually lead to his blindness some 50 years later.
Asa Jessup Smith was a fighter all his life. He fought for his city as a deputy prosecutor for Indianapolis. He fought for his state as a State Representative, Congressional candidate and United States Commissioner for Southern Indiana. He fought for his country in both World Wars. And he fought for humanity when he helped bring down the Klan in 1925. Asa died peacefully at the Hoosier Village retirement home in Zionsville at the age of 79. Asa Smith’s obituary appeared in the February 15, 1973 Indianapolis Star and featured the headline: “Attorney Asa Smith, Klan Fighter, Dies.” Although I never had the chance to meet him, I’m sure that Asa Smith would be quite pleased to have the word “Fighter” appear as his epitaph.
Al Hunter is the author of the “Haunted Indianapolis” and co-author of the “Haunted Irvington” and “Indiana National Road” book series. His newest book is “Bumps in the Night. Stories from the Weekly View.” Contact Al directly at Huntvault@aol.com or become a friend on Facebook.
