The story that you are about to read, and the murder that acts as its climax, is probably the most famous and notorious one in Minneapolis history. To say that it was a sensation when it happened is an understatement. The public was absolutely fascinated by its every twist and turn as the mystery unfolded through the newspapers, from the moment the body was discovered, to the execution of the murderer on a red-painted scaffold.
The Ozark Flats in Minneapolis, at the corner of 13th and Hennepin Avenue still stands today. Back at the end of the 19th century, it was a fashionable brownstone and home to a manipulative rascal and braggart named Harry Hayward. He didn’t actually work for a living, instead preferring to suck off of his generous parents, who owned the place and allowed him a rent-free existence. In 1894 he was 29, handsome, charismatic and charming, and never performed a day of legitimate work in his life, the very definition of the word sloth. He was always scheming for ways to make an easy dollar, and prided himself more than anything on his skills as a gambler; fondly telling everyone who would listen of his associations with the local underworld.
His casual companion was a woman named Kitty Ging. Also 29, she was no innocent either, with rumors abound that she’d been known to engage in the oldest profession in the world on more than one occasion for a purse full of money. Her legally trained occupation, however, was as a seamstress and a dressmaker. She carried in her corset a fat diamond engagement ring given to her by a ex-suitor. When the engagement was sadly broken, she hadn’t felt the need to return the ring to the rejected man. She wasn’t attractive in the typical sense – her face was not beautiful, and her 5 foot 7 inch frame and a hundred and fifty pounds was imposing for a woman during that time, but she had her share of men who wanted to make her their own.
Harry was constantly tempting Kitty with exciting stories of the shadowy gang he ran with, and how he would cut her into his next big haul. He talked of reselling stolen jewels, or passing off counterfeit money, known in the day as “green goods”. Harry and Kitty seemed to be two greedy peas in a pod, and had the basis of a beautiful friendship blossoming, but evidently there was some romantic friction in the works. Kitty seemed to take more of a fancy to Harry then he did her. Whether a possible tryst gone wrong soured his feelings to her it’s hard to say, but in the summer of 1894, Harry started to actively plot Kitty’s murder. He had two potential accomplices, both men he was confident he could easily bend and influence to carry out his rotten plans. One was the Ozark Flat’s janitor; a dimwitted fellow named Claude Blixt, who lived in the building’s basement with his wife. The other was Harry’s brother Adry, who despite being older, was easily manipulated by Harry. Under Harry’s direction the three would often meet, going over hypothetical ways to dispose of Kitty. When Harry made up his mind to actually go through with it, he cornered his brother for the task, but Adry, weak-kneed and sensitive refused to raise his hand. So Harry turned to Claude Blixt instead, and after threats and promises of money, Blixt agreed to serve as Harry’s henchman for a two thousand dollar share of the ten thousand dollars in life insurance policies Harry had taken out on Kitty’s life. How did Harry convince Kitty to agree to that? He had lent her ninety-five hundred dollars (counterfeit of course) to help her open up a dressmaking business, and explained to her it was for his protection should anything happen to the investment. He tested the weak-brained Claude first, ordering him to burn down a barn, which Claude obediently followed through with. Now, Harry knew Claude would do his bidding, and picked a date for the murder – December 3rd 1894.
Harry had asked Kitty to meet him near the intersection of Bryant and Kenwood Avenues that evening for a secret rendezvous with members of his mysterious gang. Kitty and Claude had never met, and Claude’s job would be to pose as a gang member. Kitty, flush with anticipation over a mysterious meeting, and with visions of dollar signs dancing in her head, agreed to meet him. She rented a horse and buggy from a livery stable attached to the West Hotel in downtown Minneapolis and made her way to the meeting place.
Claude was nervous – he had a criminal past but nothing involving homicide, so Harry gave him a bottle of whiskey and told him to drink it to calm his nerves. Claude did just that, and finally set out to meet Kitty. Harry by the way, spent the afternoon and evening going to as many public places as he could – visiting bars, playing billiards, and even going out to see a play that evening with a young lady friend.
When Kitty rode up to the rendezvous spot, Claude met her and explained to her that Harry was going to meet up with them later. Harry was being cautious, and had doubled back to make sure they weren’t being followed. Soon, however, he would join up with them at the gang’s hideout and they’d go over a plan that would make them all wealthy beyond their dreams. Kitty bought the story and she and Claude got into the buggy. Kitty let Claude handle the reigns. They circled around Lake Calhoun, on a snowy tree lined road, quiet on that Monday evening in December. Both were nervous. Kitty wondered if Harry would catch up with them, and Claude tried to summon the mental strength to actually murder her. Finally, as Kitty looked out the window, Claude lifted his revolver and leveled it at Kitty’s head. He pulled the trigger, and shot her behind the ear. She fell back in her seat, instantly dead. Claude drove a ways further, and then shoved Kitty’s body out of the carriage. She bounced off the wheel as she fell out and then the body hit the ground. With one final bump the carriage’s wheel rolled over her corpse, and Claude continued on, driving a short distance and then completely abandoning the carriage all together. The horse walked back to the livery, and Claude back to the Ozark Flats.
A laborer, returning home after a long day’s work, soon discovered Kitty Ging’s lifeless body laying in the road, in the area that’s now the front of the modern day Calhoun Beach Club on Excelsior Boulevard. The police were called and an investigation was under way. Harry, in his vain and egotistical glory, made sure he was in the forefront in the search for the killer. Almost as soon as the first cop came to Ozark Flats to take statements, he began playing up the fact that Kitty had borrowed money from him, and how he was certain someone killed her for it. He felt secure about his airtight alibi, and it was solid enough for the police to focus on other possible suspects for the next couple of days, with Harry right there at the police department offering his advice. He even consulted with the Mayor over his ideas about who the killer might be. For a short time Harry was at his arrogant best; the center of attention, the soon to be beneficiary of a fat life insurance policy, and knowing all the time that he had created so cleverly this grand spectacle. He had fooled the entire city and was profiting to boot!
It was however, his vanity that ultimately became his downfall. He overlooked his pitiful brother Adry, who, confused and guilt ridden, had confided to a family friend in earlier weeks, a man named Levi Stewart, that Harry had asked him to do away with Kitty. Now that the murder had actually happened, Stewart confronted Adry, contacted the Hennepin County Attorney’s office, and soon they had Adry in tears and talking away. He tearfully told them it was Harry’s idea, and Claude Blixt was the conspirator that did the actual dirty work. Buoyed by a full confession by the weak-minded Claude Blixt, they arrested both he and Harry Hayward for murder. Harry was tried first, and despite his articulate and dramatic perjury on the stand, the jury deliberated for under three hours and came back with a guilty verdict. The judge handed down his sentence: Harry Hayward was to be executed, hanged by the neck until he was dead. Claude Blixt of course would eventually get his trial too, He would ultimately be found guilty as well, and sentenced to life in prison without parole. Blixt died there at the age of 72 in 1925, stark raving insane.
Harry’s execution date was set for December 11th, 1895, just over one year from the day of Kitty Ging’s murder. He filed numerous appeals, but they were all rejected. Harry was Harry until the end. He requested that the scaffold be painted red for some reason, and it was. As they were building it, Harry encouraged the workers on, heartily yelling out “GO IT!” from his cell window.
He laughed about his hanging and the idea of his corpse, saying “ I’ll just give a sigh and drop with a sickening thud …ha ha ha! I don’t think it will hurt much. Say doctor, before you begin to cut me up, just prick me a little with the knife first. Try several places, so as to be sure as I am dead”.
The night before his execution, Harry gave an abbreviated version of his life story to a newspaper reporter, culminating in a full confession of his part in Kitty’s murder. He shook hands with Adry, admitting his accusations against his brother were false, and was led to the gallows. Fashionable and charming to the end, Harry wore a stylish cutaway coat and pinstriped trousers underneath the traditional black robe. His final words were “ Pull her tight. I’ll stand pat.” As the door beneath him open he fell to his death, but it was a slow strangulation – his neck didn’t break to ease his brief suffering.
The legend of Harry Hayward has carried on over these last hundred years. Rumors surfaced in the 1960’s that the masons had somehow gotten a hold of his body and brought him back to life. As for Kitty Ging, there has been a local movement to name a soccer field in her memory near 32nd St and West Calhoun Parkway, close to the site of the actual murder.
