Phillip S. Goodside: His face appeared on a Polaroid picture — several years after he was murdered!
Bob Brewer sent this story in after reading my column about the Phillip Goodside murder. It’s an incredible story … Bob lived in the house where Goodside was presumably killed, near 24th and Locust.
Dear Mr. Hart,
I read your Nov. 3 column, regarding the 1976 murder of Phillip Goodside, with a very personal interest. Over the years I have told this story many times, but have never written down the events during the time (spring 1979 — winter 1980) that my wife and I lived in the house.
In February of 1979, my wife Terri and I were preparing to get married that May 19th. Since we had separate apartments, we began searching for a place to live on a low-budget. The place we found was a very small two-story house and was located about 100 feet directly behind the landlord’s house.
The house itself was approximately 24 by 30, built on a slab. It looked to have been an old building which was modified and white siding put onto the exterior many years earlier.
On the south side, a 6 by 8 glassed-in porch led into the combination kitchen/dining/living room, which occupied 90 percent of the first floor. There was only the kitchen door and the front door had been sealed. To the right was the bathroom, with the matching pink bathtub and sink.
At the north end living room wall was a stairwell leading up to the second floor. It consisted of a bedroom and a bathroom, located directly above the first floor bathroom. In March, Terri vacated her apartment and moved to the house, so she could begin the process of making this our first home. During that time, nothing happened that she was aware of. Or, as she puts it, “It started when you moved in.”
We got married on May 19, 1979 and spent a week on honeymoon. When we returned & settled in, daily life went by with nothing unusual until sometime around summer.
As a little bit of background, my wife was always, and still is, very compulsive about cleanliness and order. Eating off our floors would not be a problem. So, returning after work one day during that summer, it seemed odd to me when I came in the kitchen door and noticed the dining room table’s centerpiece/doily was very off-center from where it was always placed. I pushed it back to the center of the table. The table was located not more than 4 feet outside the bathroom door and I thought nothing more about it, until the night sounds began.
On the second floor was our bedroom and, on top of the dresser, we had one of those alarm clock/radio combinations which displayed the time with large red numerals. Some time after the above incident, while sleeping one night, we were awakened by what sounded like a basketball being bounced on the slab floor downstairs… The time on the clock was about 3 a.m. and my investigation downstairs found nothing.
However, this sound occurred several more times at the exact same time on the clock so, as soon as the next month’s rent was due, I gave the rent to the landlord and asked if he was aware of any raccoons or animals which might be around or nesting under the house. I remember his answer to this day, but had no idea at that time what he meant — “Don’t pay attention to what people say about that place,” he said.
We continued living there with no idea what had occurred there, but the nightly “basketball” sound started up again on irregular days, but always at the exact same time in the morning, so much so that I began sleeping with a knife under my pillow for protection.
During that time, I was active in Jaycees and my wife was in Jaycee-ettes. One of her favorite stories to give me a hard time about these events is the night she came home from a Jaycee-ette meeting and I had put an open bible on the bottom stair of the staircase, while I was upstairs asleep.
Then, one fall evening, we were watching TV in the living room when the kitchen door gently swung open as if a wind had caught it. However, as described before, the house had a storm-window glassed-in back porch (storm windows all closed) with a glass storm door… All house windows were closed and the only one door in the kitchen.
The table centerpiece was slightly moved only once more, without anyone seeing it, but the sound continued sporadically up until the Christmas season. Christmas passed and, one weekend in early January, we decided to take down the Christmas tree.
We had a Polaroid camera, where you pushed a button to take the photo, pulled a now-exposed tab to pull the film out of the camera, then wait 60 seconds and peel off the developer side to reveal the photo.
Terri was removing ornaments and placing them back into their boxes. She was kneeling down with a box of ornaments on her lap. I took her picture, pulled the tab and waited the 60 seconds.
Peeling back the paper revealed what I can only describe as a transparent, slightly elongated face of a man with what looked like a fog around his head. It was several feet above Terri’s left shoulder and he appeared to be looking over her shoulder to the ornaments she had on her lap.
Although we were very shocked at the photo, I don’t recall us being very frightened because, remember that, up to that time, we still did not know what had happened previously at this house.
However, once we started showing the photo around, we soon began to learn what had happened there in 1976 and started putting two and two together. And, although I had previously paid no attention to the damage to the bathtub’s finish, later on the chips in the finish were hard to look at without many emotions, primarily sadness and fear.
Then, soon after, we heard that Quincy College was going to host an event with paranormal researchers, Ed and Loraine Warren, a couple who investigated the Amityville Horror in New York.
So, with photo in hand, we went to the event which was heavily attended by students and people who evidently liked a good ghost story. During their audio/slide presentation (home video wasn’t invented yet), they presented slides which included items such as photos of a levitating lamp and a “demonic doll,” as well as a tape recording of a demonic voice.
As if we weren’t getting frightened enough by this point, what particularly frightened Terri and I during the presentation was their emphasis not to copy any of the voice recordings being heard, or take any pictures of slides being shown on the screen, because of the possibility of “providing an opening” to demonic activity in a person’s personal life.
Then it was over and the crowd immediately surrounded the Warrens to ask questions or tell stories. We waited for a long time and unable to approach them and, before we knew it, they had been whisked away and we had not been able to ask for their advice. Soooo… What to do? The event was over and we had gotten no help from the Warrens, but I had this photo and it was time to go back to the house.
However, fright got the best of us and, instead of going home, we visited Terri’s brother & his wife (Mike & Pam Nobis). We stayed there until Mike finally told us it was too late & we had to leave…
Unfortunately, we were also so afraid that the photo might lead to more problems that the Warrens had warned against that I destroyed it. Many times over the years I wish I had not done that, but there are still the witnesses who did see the photo. We moved out of the house soon after.
Over the years, I never followed up on the details or the names involved, but would always see that little house when I’d drive out North 24th Street and wonder what other residents were experiencing.
Then, several years ago, I noticed it was finally torn down and I decided to get more details. I went to the Quincy Public Library & went through the Quincy Herald Whig microfilm files. There I found the articles and, when I saw the photo of Phillip Goodside, the goosebumps appeared and the hair on the back of my neck stood up. It was the same person I had seen in the photo and the “fog” which looked to surround his head showed in his newspaper photo as a beard with very bushy hair. I have those articles still.
I did stop by there later last year, to talk with the owner of the “front” house, and discussed our experience with her. She said when they bought the house, the back house had already been torn down, but she felt very uneasy when back there, so put in a “peace garden.” She said she felt much better when walking back there. I walked around but didn’t walk on the slab which was still left. She had not seen the original news articles, so she accepted my offer to drop off copies of the H-W articles and I did that shortly after. In the time since, I do feel a little better about Phillip’s “transition” now, but am still very curious, apprehensive and intrigued about why what happened did happen.
For credibility purposes, I am 54, married with two grown children. I am a regional sales manager for Reliable Pest Solutions and before owned a golf car business for 20 years, with a patent to my name. I was a Quincy Alderman for years in the early 1980s and was the first Adams County resident to win the Red Cross “Award of Merit” for saving a life with CPR. I am a past board president of the Quincy Public Library and other various activities, including being a current Ambassador with the Chamber of Commerce.
Bob Brewer
