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This post is difficult — difficult from the perspective of a paranormal investigator / ITC researcher with a conscience. I’ve written and said many things on this channel concerning the looseness of speculation vs. intention vs. narrative vs. validating data, while trying to present the supernatural vs. the real phenomena. I feel even more responsibility in situations where abhorrent tragedies that have impacted a community, and families have been victimized — especially at the hands of serial killers such as Herb Baumeister and Larry Eyler (both deceased), who both terrorized the gay community in the ‘80s and ‘90s. I never wanna be exploitive. So from this post what do we clearly know? We know Herb Baumeister was a disturbed monster who preyed upon gay men and teens. We do know he used the 501 Eagle as a location to pick up victims. And we know that there have been unexplainable claims of paranormal activity at Herb’s former residence Fox Hollow Farm. We know there are similar claims at the address of the old 501 Eagle. But are they conclusively connected? It’s above my pay grade to say 100%. But if the audio we recorded in our ITC sessions at the former 501 is any indication of at least Herb leaving his mark there — it’s all undeniably intertwined.

This post is a tribute to the victims — not to Herb or any other sickos out there. My wish, if any of them actually swing by the old 501, it’s hopefully not to haunt but rather a visit by their choice — a chance to reminisce back to a happier time. We ultimately know nothing about ghosts, spirits, how they operate, if they’re even real — or what it all means. But the men who frequented that establishment were flesh and blood. And if they were ecstatic there, and if that brick and mortar on that city block truly holds their fond memories — may they live forever. Nonetheless, the old 501 wants to be heard.

Jason L. Ammerman is one of the finest poets ever to walk the streets of Indianapolis. Not only that, he’s an amateur historian of that city — plus one of my best friends who I’ve had the pleasure of performing spoken word with for over 12 years. After he welcomed us and joined the investigation, I asked him to pen a tribute to accompany this post — and he did so beautifully. I’ll end on that.

Respectfully,

Evel Ogilville

Pearl Before Swine

Dedicated to the memory of the victims of Herb Baumeister and his murderous spree, known and unknown

We speak of dark things
The attractive
The taboo
Their names are left of
Tongues dried
Wilted

These flowers
Dead in their stems
Their aromas staled

And we are left
Exalting murder as a sitcom
To watch
Tasteless
Drowning in the phantasmagoria of flickering images
Faces of the hopeless
Trapped in cells

This was their happy place
But no more

We embrace the dark things
The teeth that gnash at skin
Revealing the meat beneath
These men
Their names like Robert or William or Unknown
Their bones covered just enough to not attract attention
For many years
Just underneath the soil
Disturbed
We are
This is
Disturbing

The method is no different than most predators
Lure/love/then kill
Lure/love/then kill
Leaving them breathless
Empty husks
The taboo

And we are mocked for wanting to help
Dirty phrases
Echoed through empty rooms and we
Red in the face
Do not offer our names lurking
An attempt to be respectful of
Shadows blatantly rubbing against
Bodies
They have no bodies
Just bones
And names
Forgotten
No consequence for the actions of
Lure/love/then kill

There was a time for
These beautiful creatures
Their sensitivity finding a home
Within these walls
To safely exist
To be open of who they are
At a time when being open meant death

The irony is not lost here

We embrace the dark things
Trying to make sense of it all
What does it mean to love?
What does love look like?
A shadow peering from the corners
A voice sighing in the lower decibels
What does love?

There are faces here
Watching from other dimensions
Consensual sex and paying for it through
Asphyxiated
Left breathless
Alone
Forgotten
Names or no names

There are faces here
Victims of change and denial of epidemics

It can’t happen here
This is America
This is the land of the free
Except this
Life
Style
Lure/love/then kill

We embrace the dark things
Until it becomes personal

I have spent many moments with these ghosts
Their frustration imparted upon my soul
Their anguish flickering lights
Their anger banging walls and slamming doors
Wanting to set fire to these bricks
It is dark and things are not of the sense that
We make out of it for
We will never know what it was like

The final breaths manipulated by a predator
Be they human or
A virus or
Cancer or
Loneliness

The predator is always in the wings
Fuck you for stealing these breaths
That is from them
Your victims

Fuck you for being a monster
A fake
A wanna be
A teddy bear manufactured of money

Fuck you for not caring enough to leave them
For families to bury
You stole that simple dignity
After stealing their dignity in being who they were
Through a spell cast as a false sense of security

They say to never cast pearls before swine
But nonetheless
These pearls will never have the joy
Of being cast in an awestruck appearance
Of being in love forever

The swine stole them
The pearls
But we are here to steal the swine back
To offer the pearls a beautiful home

This is from them
Your victims
They are here
You are outside
Not allowed in
They are protected
By us
The living
Who want to rectify
The acts of the past
The misery they feel
Is not on you tenfold
In hell

Herb, rot in hell!
This is from them

© 2021 Jason L. Ammerman

For more info please visit:

Skeletons of Fox Hollow Farm

501 Ghosts

Special thank you to Richard Estep and his book The Horrors of Fox Hollow Farm.