Euzebe Vidrine: Confessions of Louisiana's Forgotten Serial Killer

Decades before the FBI Behavioural Science Unit started profiling serial killers, before Ted Bundy’s chilling charm or Jeffrey Dahmer’s morbid appetites entered public consciousness, there was Euzebe Vidrine. In 1924, at just twenty-six years old, Vidrine sat quietly in a jail cell in Evangeline Parish, Louisiana, struggling to make sense of his own horrific acts.

“I have grown and do not understand why and how I have been that way,” Vidrine confessed through a translator, as he neither spoke nor wrote English fluently. “God knows I tried hard to change [my life’s] course. But I never could resist the temptation which pulled me down to the very depth of hell.”

This haunting admission marked the beginning of one of America's earliest serial killer memoirs.

Murder on the Evangeline Highway: The death of Leo Wiggins

On May 19, 1924, the peaceful community of Ville Platte was shaken when Robert “Leo” Wiggins Jr., a prominent local businessman and son of the outgoing sheriff, was found murdered—shot once in the head and once in the heart behind a white oak tree along the highway connecting Ville Platte and Mamou. The grim scene quickly attracted local officials and onlookers, including Vidrine himself, whose clothing and shoes were notably stained with blood.

Remarkably, Vidrine described later how he casually blended into the crowd around the victim, unfazed by what he had done: “I went to the house, looked at the body, mixed with the people. My heart didn’t even beat faster; no one looked at me suspiciously.”

Police swiftly traced evidence directly back to Vidrine, seizing his bloody clothes, shoes, pistol, and cartridges from his home. Aided by bloodhounds—including the celebrated tracking dog, "Red Eagle," brought specially from Mississippi—authorities tracked Vidrine’s trail from the crime scene directly to the cell where he fainted upon seeing the snarling hound.

Euzebe Vidrine Confessions and Chilling Admissions

Under arrest, Vidrine quickly confessed to Sheriff Charles Pucheu, admitting to shooting Wiggins but claiming intoxication had clouded his judgment. He stated bluntly: “This is the first man I’ve killed.” Yet, within days, Vidrine shocked everyone further by casually confessing to five additional murders. The community was aghast. Wiggins's funeral became the largest in the parish’s history, attended by over 1,200 grieving residents.

Trial and Execution: A Community Demands Justice

Vidrine’s trial began on May 24, 1924, under Judge B.H. Pavy, amid palpable tension. After a rapid presentation of evidence and a dramatic self-defence—where Vidrine passionately condemned whiskey as the root of his evil—the jury deliberated just ten minutes before returning a unanimous guilty verdict. His pleas for mercy and rationalisation of economic usefulness to the state failed to move anyone.

Set for execution on August 8, 1924, the town square of Ville Platte prepared for its first-ever legal hanging. Vidrine requested permission to document his life and crimes, leading to the creation of his memoir, "The Life of Euzebe Vidrine."

The Memoir: Portrait of a Killer

With the assistance of attorney J. Hugo Dore, Aurelis Mayeaux, and local writer V.L. Dupuis, Vidrine painstakingly detailed his life, from a humble, albeit troubled, childhood to a spiral into senseless violence. Born July 12, 1898, Vidrine described a rural upbringing marked by emotional instability, petty crimes, and early signs of cruelty.

He candidly detailed how at age fifteen, his petty mischief evolved into violent impulses, often exacerbated by alcohol. His turbulent marriage to fourteen-year-old Lillian Andrus was fraught with poverty and despair. Vidrine graphically recalled murdering his neighbour, Pierre Vidrine, over rumours of pig-stealing in 1921, narrowly escaping conviction. Financial desperation, coupled with loneliness, drove him deeper into darkness.

A Dark Road: The Murder Spree of 1921

In December 1921, Vidrine turned his anguish into lethal aggression. Over two horrifying weeks, he methodically killed three men—Charles Garbo, John Roy, and Lee Duke—simply for small sums of money or meaningless trinkets. Vidrine vividly recounted the haunting memory of Duke’s lit pipe falling from his victim’s mouth, a chilling detail lingering in his conscience.

Returning home, authorities questioned Vidrine repeatedly but lacked evidence to hold him. He resumed life, haunted but unrepentant, until the fateful day in May 1924 when temptation once again overtook him, leading to Wiggins’s murder.

Public Fascination and Moral Panic

As Vidrine awaited his execution, newspapers nationwide reported sensationally on his crimes. Publishers advertised pre-orders of his memoir at $1 per copy, sparking a moral debate over profiting from such horrific acts. Editorials condemned the book, fearing it would inspire further violence.

Meanwhile, desperate last-minute attempts by family and attorneys to prove Vidrine insane failed spectacularly. A medical commission decisively affirmed his sanity, sealing his fate.

Final Moments: Vidrine's Execution

On August 8, 1924, thousands gathered in Ville Platte. Calm and composed, Vidrine embraced his final hours openly. He posed for photographs, ensured he appeared dignified, and even requested violin music. Standing before the gallows, Vidrine addressed the crowd in French, warning against alcohol’s evils. His final request? A photograph of himself smiling with the noose around his neck.

At precisely 12:45 pm, Vidrine uttered calmly, “Courage, Charlie. Cut the rope.” Minutes later, he was pronounced dead.

A Legacy of Violence

Tragically, the violence did not end with Euzebe’s death. Within months, his brother Elgee Vidrine was mysteriously murdered on the same highway. In 1937, their mother, Aureline, died violently, struck from behind by a speeding automobile. The Vidrine name again appeared ominously in 1937 when Euzebe’s second cousin, Melvin Vidrine, committed another heinous murder. He bore such a striking resemblance to Euzebe—physically and temperamentally—that Sheriff Pucheu remarked hauntingly: "It was just as though Euzebe Vidrine had been accused."

Echoes in Evangeline Parish

Though Evangeline Parish never held another public hanging, Vidrine’s shadow lingered long after his death. Parents used his story to frighten misbehaving children; ghostly tales spread, branding him a local boogieman who drank his victims' blood. Such gruesome folklore cemented Vidrine’s notoriety, even if inaccurately.

Reflections: Born Evil or Made?

Vidrine’s detailed autobiography challenged society to confront unsettling questions long before psychology began probing the minds of serial killers. Were men like Euzebe Vidrine products of their environment, mental illness, alcohol, or sheer evil?

“My experience has made me believe that a human being has his destination,” Vidrine concluded. Whether truth or justification, his words presaged debates psychologists and criminologists continue today.

Nearly a century later, the tragic tale of Euzebe Vidrine remains a compelling chapter in criminal history, highlighting both the darkness of human nature and society's fascination with understanding it.

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