Irvington lost a friend last month. Steve Nicewanger, husband, father, grandfather, sportswriter and pop culture columnist for the Weekly View, died on December 28th, three days after Christmas. Seems like everyone has a “Steve story,” and I’m no different. Back in February of 2010, I wrote a story about the “Cash for Clunkers” program and the sad state of old Bush Stadium, home of the AAA Indianapolis Indians from 1931 to 1996. At the time, the infield of the old ballpark was so packed with obsolete gas-guzzling cars that it would have been possible to walk the entire ballfield in any direction stepping from car to car, never touching the ground.
My colleague Steve was set to join us as we toured the venue with a city official. He never joined us. I called his wife Paula (one of the owners at the paper) to find out where he was. She was just as confused as I, “He’s supposed to be down there,” she said. After a while, our small group ventured to the top of the abandoned stadium and the press box overlooking the field and 16th Street. While there, I spotted Steve driving his van around the parking lot and up and down 16th Street. After a few passes, he drove off. Later, I asked Steve what happened. “I couldn’t bring myself to go in,” Steve explained. “I just wanted to remember it like it was.”
Steve Nicewanger was reflective like that. Nothing pleased him more than watching old movies (particularly horror films), studying history, and gathering trivia. No doubt about it, Steve was the go-to guy when it came to film trivia in Irvington. So I decided, after some gentle prodding from my editor Ethel, to try and cobble together an article in Steve’s honor. One that he might appreciate. A fictional adaptation of a true-crime event, set right here in Indianapolis, so full of trivia that it might just bail you out of a tough spot in your next Sporcle/Bezerwizzer/Trivial Pursuit game.
The Desperate Hours is a 1955 Paramount Pictures movie starring Humphrey Bogart and Fredric March. Produced and directed by three-time Oscar winner William Wyler, it is based on the novel and play of the same name, written by Joseph Hayes. The original Broadway production had actor Paul Newman in the Bogart role and Karl Malden in the Frederic March role. It was only Newman’s second starring role, so he was passed over for the movie because Bogart was a much bigger star. Originally, Spencer Tracy was set to co-star in the film, and although he and Bogart were close friends, both insisted on top billing. Tracy eventually withdrew from the picture and was replaced by Fredric March.
The Desperate Hours tells the story of Glenn Griffin (Bogart), the leader of a trio of escaped convicts who invade the suburban middle-class home of Dan Hilliard (March) in Indianapolis and hold four family members hostage. The escapees lay siege to the house and await the arrival of a package containing cash, desperately needed for their escape. The plot becomes a cat-and-mouse game as the homeowner cooperates with the criminals, giving the impression that he is a coward.
Indiana State Police organize a statewide manhunt for the escapees and eventually discover the distraught family’s plight after their garbageman discovers the fugitive’s car in the garage. Hilliard, the family patriarch, convinces law enforcement personnel that storming the house is too risky for his family. Hilliard tricks Griffin into using an unloaded handgun, then forces him out of his house using the outlaw’s own loaded weapon. Griffin is subsequently machine-gunned down by police after hurling the empty firearm at a spotlight while making a break for it.
Not only did the film star Oscar-winner Humphrey Bogart and two-time Oscar winner Frederic March, it co-starred Oscar winner Gig Young and four-time Oscar nominee Arthur Kennedy. The cast was rounded out by Beverly Garland; the mom on My Three Sons, Joe Flynn; Captain Bingham on McHale’s Navy, Walter Baldwin; the first Floyd the Barber on the Andy Griffith Show (one episode) and Alan Reed; the cartoon voice of Fred Flintstone. Fred S. “Duke” Fosler, Chief Deputy Sheriff of the Sheriffs Civil Department in Indianapolis and former Indiana State Trooper, also served as technical director and appeared in the film.
The cast, many of whom went uncredited, appeared in many horror sci-fi/movies that I’m sure Steve Nicewanger watched and appreciated: The Blob (1958), Invasion of the Body Snatchers (1956), Flash Gordon’s Trip to Mars (1938) and Psycho (1960). One of the actors, Pat Flaherty, played for the World War I era Indianapolis Indians, pitched for John McGraw’s New York Giants and punted for George Halas’ Chicago Bears before appearing in over 200 Hollywood movies after his playing days were over. The Hilliard house used in the movie is the same one used during the final seasons of the television series Leave It to Beaver. Ironically, one of the film’s actors, Burt Mustin, appeared 14 times on Leave it to Beaver as Gus the Fireman. Their faces, although lost to most of us, would have been instantly recognized by Steve Nicewanger.
The last bit of irresistible info about The Desperate Hours revolves around the true-life events that inspired the film. On the morning of September 11, 1952, a man knocked on the back door of the Hill family’s home on Joshua Road in White Marsh, Pennsylvania. Housewife Elizabeth Hill answered the door and was greeted by a man asking if her husband was home. When she answered no, the man signaled to his two companions hiding around the corner of the house armed with shotguns. The men entered the house, promising the woman and her three sons that they would be safe as long as they kept quiet. Thus began the 19-hour ordeal for the Hill family.
Bank robbers Joseph and Ballard Nolen, a pair of brothers from of Kentucky, and Elmer Schuer of Illinois escaped from Lewisberg Federal Penitentiary two days before by hacksawing through their cell bars and climbing down the 30-foot prison wall with towels knotted together. The men stole a car and made their way to West Reading where they smashed the window of a sporting goods shop and stole four shotguns and two rifles.
Learning that Pennsylvania State Police and the FBI had set up roadblocks all over Pennsylvania, the men decided to find a house to lay low in until the heat died down. Once inside, the criminals listened to the radio, played cards, and ate the Hill’s food until their two teenage daughters returned from Norristown High School and James Hill returned from work. The Hills insisted that the three men were always polite and didn’t harm anyone in the family.
That night, the men gathered the family together in one room and moved mattresses in for the kids. They told the Hills that they would be leaving that night and warned them not to call the police until 8 a.m. The fugitives threatened to return and kill Mr. Hill if they didn’t wait. At 3:30 a.m. the escapees left the house, stealing clothing and the family car. When 8 a.m. rolled around, 24 hours after the ordeal had begun, Mr. Hill contacted the police. Investigators swarmed the house. The convicts were long gone, having driven the Hill family Pontiac west, where they held up a diner in Hamburg. That is where the trail went cold.
A week later, police learned that the men were headed for Scranton but took a wrong turn, ending up in New York City. Once in Gotham, the escapees robbed a Bronx gun store and a bank then rented an apartment on Kelly Street. Eventually, they relocated to a place on the Upper West Side of Manhattan, where NYPD found them on September 21st. There was a shoot-out in which both Nolen brothers were killed, and Detective Phillip LaMonica was shot three times in the chest. He later died at the hospital. Elmer Schuer survived and was captured. According to the “FBI Law Enforcement Bulletin” from 1957, he was sentenced to 80 years to life in prison.
In 1954 it was turned into a Broadway play. The setting was changed to suburban Indianapolis and the convicts were portrayed as much more violent than the Hills reported. In the play, they even murdered the garbage collector who discovered the crime in progress. The play won Tonys for Best Play and Best Director. The next year, William Wyler directed the film version of the play, which in turn inspired Life Magazine to run a feature article on the saga.
Life reporters took the cast to the scene of the crime in Whitemarsh. The Hills no longer lived there, having relocated to Connecticut in 1952. The Hills wanted to put the incident behind them and tried hard to avoid any publicity. The Life article never made the distinction between the play and the real event. According to an article in the New Yorker, Mrs. Hill was especially upset by the article and undue media attention from the play and movie. The Hills sued Time, Inc., the publisher of Life Magazine, under New York State’s privacy law, alleging that it deliberately misrepresented their story.
The case dragged on for many years, with the Hills winning in the New York Court of Appeals in 1962. Time, Inc. appealed to the United States Supreme Court. Former vice-president Richard Nixon (himself no friend of the press) argued on behalf of the Hill family in 1966. Nixon’s challenge was a familiar one: “Is a publication, containing misrepresentations about the subject of its coverage, protected under the First Amendment’s freedom of speech guarantees?”
In a 5-to-4 opinion, the Court ruled in favor of Time because the lower court failed to instruct the jury that Time’s liability was contingent upon a showing that it knowingly and recklessly published false statements about the Hill family. The Court explained that absent a finding of such malicious intent on the part of a publisher, press statements are protected under the First Amendment even if they are otherwise false or inaccurate. It was the only case Nixon ever argued before the Supreme Court.
Yes, I feel certain that Steve Nicewanger would give me a thumbs up for this story. It has everything in it that he enjoyed most: History, movies, trivia, and pop culture. So, if this article has done anything to ramp up your interest in old movies, go home this weekend and hit the firestick or stream it on YouTube (it’s free). Kick off your shoes, put your feet up, place that bowl of popcorn on the couch and watch one for Steve Nicewanger. I assure you he would approve. R.I.P. Steve, you will be missed.
Al Hunter is the author of the “Haunted Indianapolis” and co-author of the “Haunted Irvington” and “Indiana National Road” book series. His newest books are “Bumps in the Night. Stories from the Weekly View,” “Irvington Haunts. The Tour Guide,” and “The Mystery of the H.H. Holmes Collection.” Contact Al directly at Huntvault@aol.com or become a friend on Facebook.
