Candyman: The True Halloween Horror Story of Ronald Clark O'Bryan



One of the hallmarks of the fall season is Halloween, a holiday known for candy, costumes, scary decorations, trick-or-treating, and spooky horror stories. Despite its almost grotesque nature, Halloween is meant as a night of fun, where kids can go from door-to-door in groups and gather up tons of sweet candy and show off their costumes.

But, for the residents of Pasadena, Texas, on October 31st, 1974, the Halloween night was anything but fun. Before the night was over, one child would be dead and many others would only narrowly escape death, thanks to the actions of a man so desperate for money that he was willing to kill anyone, even his own son, to get it.

So, with Halloween just around the corner, I thought I would discuss the true Halloween horror story of Ronald Clark O'Bryan, aka "The Candyman".

Halloween

Timothy O'Bryan
On the night of October 31st, 1974, thousands of children in the small city of Pasadena, Texas, walked from door-to-door wearing costumes, waving glow-sticks, and collecting as much candy as they possibly could.

One of these children was 8-year-old Timothy Marc O'Bryan. The energetic third-grader, who lived in nearby Deer Park, Texas, was ready to go trick-or-treating with his younger sister and a group of friends. Young Timothy was wearing a brand new Planet Of The Apes costume, and was looking forward to showing it off.

Accompanying Timothy was his father, Ronald Clark O'Bryan, an ex-cop who worked as an optician and church deacon. He was a man who spent his time being active in the community, singing in the ministry's choir and driving buses.

After having dinner, Ronald O'Bryan and his neighbor, Jim Bates, decided to drive to an upscale neighborhood in Pasadena, Texas, where they could take their kids trick-or-treating.

Outside, it began to rain a little, but rain was not enough to deter the children's craving for sweets. The group visited several houses around the block, gathering up candy and filling up their bags, while Bates and O'Bryan engaged in small talk.

At one of the houses the children visited, no one answered the door. Figuring the house was empty, the children became impatient and decided to run ahead to the next home, eager to collect more candy. Also believing the house to be vacant, Jim Bates followed the children, leaving Ronald O'Bryan behind.

Ronald O'Bryan, however, didn't follow. He lingered behind at the house for several minutes, idling at the front porch.

When the children returned from the next house, Ronald O'Bryan caught up with the group, brandishing five large, 24-inch-long Pixy Stix, a candy consisting of sweetened powder packed inside a sealed paper straw. "You must have some rich neighbors, Jim!", O'Bryan told Bates as he distributed each of the giant candies to the four children.

O'Bryan told the group that, while they were ahead, the owner of the other house had opened the door and given him the Pixy Stix.

Killer Candy


After an hour or so of trick-or-treating, the group decided to return home. Timothy O'Bryan said goodbye to his friends, and he, his sister, and his father each drove back to their house in Deer Park. After reaching the house, Ronald O'Bryan handed out candy to other trick-or-treaters, and gave the last giant Pixy Stix to a 10-year-old boy he recognized from his church.

Before going to bed that night, Timothy asked his dad if he could have some candy. "Sure, go ahead." Ronald said. "But only one candy."

Timothy chose to eat the gigantic Pixy Stix that his father had given him. He tore off the end of the giant paper straw and tried to pour the powder into his mouth. When he was unable to get the candy out of the stick, Tim gave it to his dad, who rolled the straw between his palms to loosen the powder.

Timothy immediately poured the white powder into his mouth, but, immediately, he noticed something was wrong. This powder didn't taste sweet at all. His face contorted into disgust. "This tastes really bitter", Tim told his father. Ronald gave his son some Kool-Aid to wash away the bitter taste.

Suddenly, Timothy doubled over in pain. "Daddy, daddy! My stomach hurts!", he yelled. Tim ran from his room to the bathroom, hunched over the toilet, and began vomiting uncontrollably. As Ronald rushed into the bathroom to help, his son collapsed to the floor and began convulsing.

Ronald picked up his son and carried him out of the bathroom, but Timothy kept vomiting and gasping for air. Finally, the young boy shuddered, lost consciousness, and fell limp.

Ronald dialed 911, and, within minutes, an ambulance arrived at the O'Bryan house. Paramedics rushed the unconscious Timothy to the hospital, but it was too late.
At 10:30 PM on October 31st, 1974, 8-year-old Timothy Marc O'Bryan was declared dead on arrival at Southmore General Hospital in Pasadena, Texas. He had died in the ambulance en-route to the medical center.

An autopsy revealed that Timothy O'Bryan had died from cyanide poisoning, and police determined that the giant Pixy Stix he had eaten had been packed with potassium cyanide, a highly toxic, corrosive, white crystalline solid with a faint odor like that of bitter almonds. Potassium cyanide's toxicity comes from its ability to interfere with cellular respiration, effectively starving the human body of oxygen. Even in small doses, potassium cyanide can cause near-instantaneous death. In this case, that was exactly what happened.

Potassium cyanide, the poison laced into the Pixy Stix, has an appearance very similar to sugar, and is extremely deadly

Panic


Once the news of Timothy O'Bryan's death reached the public, a panic ensued. Parents confiscated their children's candy and turned it over to police, and children were warned not to eat anything that looked even remotely suspicious.

A hunt for the four other poisoned Pixy Stix commenced. Ronald O'Bryan turned over his daughter's Pixy Stick to the police, as did the Bates' children. Luckily, none of them had consumed the poisoned candy.

One Pixy Stick, however, remained unaccounted for. The parents of the fifth child grew panicked when they couldn't find the Pixy Stick in their son's trick or treat bag, and feared the worst.
By an extraordinary stroke of luck, however, the boy's parents found their son asleep in his bed, clutching the giant candy straw in his hand. The 10-year-old boy had tried to eat the candy, but was unable to rip open the packaging due to a large staple holding it shut, and had simply fallen asleep.

The boy had come extremely close to death. Police later discovered enough potassium cyanide in the Pixy Stick to kill four adults.

The Investigation


Police immediately interviewed Ronald O'Bryan, as he was the one who gave the Pixy Stix to the children. O'Bryan was still distraught over the death of his young son, but agreed to talk to investigators.

O'Bryan told police that he was given the Pixy Stix by a man at 4112 Donerail Avenue in Pasadena, TX. O'Bryan told the police that he never saw the man who handed out the candy, and could only describe him as having "a hairy arm".

Police quickly learned the house belonged to 45-year-old Courtney Melvin, an air-traffic-controller at Hobby Airport. Melvin had no criminal record and was a married father. He didn't fit the profile of a killer who would poison candied treats.

Nevertheless, police questioned Melvin about his whereabouts on the night of October 31st, 1974.
Melvin told investigators that he was at work on Halloween Night, and didn't return home until 11:00 PM, long after the O'Bryans were done trick-or-treating. Over 200 coworkers corroborated Melvin's story, confirming he was at work during the time of the murder, and police dismissed him as a possible suspect.

Police decided to question Ronald Clark O'Bryan again. They didn't yet think he was a suspect, but they were becoming suspicious about his story. Either O'Bryan was mistaken about the facts surrounding that Halloween night, or he knew more about the murder of his son than he was telling police.

Insurance Money


As police continued their investigation, 8-year-old Timothy O'Bryan was laid to rest in a funeral service attended by dozens of mourners. Ronald O'Bryan himself gave a tearful, emotional eulogy in memory of his son. The entire community was left in shock. Who could possibly poison a child? Why would anyone commit such a terrible crime?

Mourners attend the funeral of 8-year-old Timothy O'Bryan

The police soon figured out a possible answer to that question. Investigators discovered that Ronald Clark O'Bryan was undergoing a series of financial troubles, and had rapidly shifted between jobs.
Police learned that Ronald O'Bryan had been employed 21 different times in the last ten years, and he had a history of being unable to hold down a job.

Police also learned that O'Bryan's employment problems had caused him to accumulate over $100,000 in debt, a sum which he was apparently unable to pay off. He had defaulted on several bank loans, lost his car to repossession, and was on the brink of having his house foreclosed on. In addition, O'Bryan was suspected of stealing money from his employer and was on the brink of being fired.

Investigators soon uncovered a more sinister clue in Ronald O'Bryan's financial dealings. In the prior months, Ronald O'Bryan had taken out a series of life insurance policies on not just his son, but on his daughter as well.

In January, 1974, Ronald O'Bryan had taken out two life insurance policies on Timothy O'Bryan and his sister, with each policy worth $10,000. In September of that year, just a month before Tim was murdered, O'Bryan took out an additional $20,000 on both children, and in late October, just days before Halloween, O'Bryan increased the policies by another $20,000.

All in all, Ronald Clark O'Bryan stood to gain up to $100,000 dollars if both of his children were to die. With that kind of money, his financial problems could be settled quite easily. The investigators' suspicions seemed to be confirmed when, on the morning after Tim's death, O'Bryan called the insurance company to inquire about collecting on his son's life insurance policy.

When police interviewed O'Bryan's wife, she was shocked to learn about the life insurance policies. She told investigators that she had no knowledge of her husband's activities.

And then came the final nail in the coffin. A clerk at a Houston chemical store told police that Ronald O'Bryan had come to the store asking where he could buy potassium cyanide, claiming he needed it for a "science project". The clerk told O'Bryan that they didn't sell the chemical, so O'Bryan left without purchasing anything.

The circumstantial evidence was overwhelming, and a grisly picture began to come together. To investigators, it seemed very likely that Ronald Clark O'Bryan had poisoned the Pixy Stix with cyanide and tried to murder his own children to collect on their life insurance policies. Police believed that O'Bryan had given the poison to the other three children in an attempt to make the poisonings look like a random act.

Police confronted Ronald O'Bryan with this evidence, and they let him know they were considering him the prime suspect in the case, but O'Bryan remained adamant that he was innocent. He insisted that he had nothing to do with the murders, and that he was a victim of the crime, not the perpetrator.

But police didn't buy it. On November 5th, 1974, just six days after that fateful Halloween night, Ronald O'Bryan was arrested and charged with one count of capital murder and four counts of attempted murder.  He pleaded not guilty to all five counts, and steadfastly maintained his innocence.

The entire community of Deer Creek was left in shock. O'Bryan didn't fit the profile of a typical killer. He was a deeply religious man, a loving father, and a beloved community figure.
How, they asked, could anyone, especially a father, kill his own child? How could anyone be so cruel and heartless?

Ronald O'Bryan's arrest for the murder of his son shocked the entire country

Trial


The trial of Ronald Clark O'Bryan opened on May 5, 1975, with much media fanfare. O'Bryan's crime had caught the attention of the entire nation. The press dubbed O'Bryan "The Candyman", and the media whirlwind fueled the spread of paranoia about poisoned Halloween candy across the country.

During his one-month trial, O'Bryan and his attorneys proclaimed that he was a victim, not a perpetrator, of this terrible crime. It was bad enough, the attorneys said, that O'Bryan had lost his beloved son, but now he had to deal with accusations that he was behind the act.

The defense attorneys told the jury that there was no forensic evidence tying O'Bryan to the crime. Authorities had never determined where and when O'Bryan had purchased the potassium cyanide, nor did they find any trace of the chemical in the home. There was simply too much reasonable doubt, they said, to pin this crime on O'Bryan. Other suspects, they insisted, must be considered.

The defense also made reference to the decades-old old urban myth of a "mad Halloween poisoner" who would hand out poisoned candy, caramel apples with razor blades, or chocolate bars containing needles (a rumor which still persists today despite no instance of such crimes ever occurring).

A police officer shows off the four uneaten Pixy Stix that had been laced with cyanide

The prosecution countered with incriminating circumstantial evidence. Numerous colleagues of O'Bryan testified that, in the months preceding that fateful Halloween, Ronald O'Bryan had shown a keen interest, some would even say an obsession, with cyanide. Friends and coworkers spoke about how O'Bryan had talked with them about how to kill someone by poisoning them with cyanide, and how much was necessary to kill a person.

O'Bryan's in-laws also testified about his plans regarding the insurance money. They said that, during Tim O'Bryan's funeral, Ronald had spoke to them about using Tim's life insurance money to buy new things and go on an extended vacation, behavior that was highly unusual for a supposedly grieving father.

The evidence was overwhelming. On June 3rd, 1975, after deliberating for only 43 minutes, the jury found Ronald Clark O'Bryan guilty of capital murder and attempted capital murder.

The following day, the jury began deliberating on O'Bryan's punishment. Guilty of capital murder, O'Bryan could either receive life in prison with chance of parole in 40 years or he could be sentenced to die in Texas' electric chair.

During the closing arguments of the penalty phase, the prosecutor reminded the jury that, while O'Bryan only killed one person, he had intended to kill up to five children. "He ought to be damned for what he did", the prosecutor said. "Nobody has anything to gain but this defendant. I don't want you to forget for one minute he wanted to take those other kids with him."

He closed by saying of O'Bryan: "This man has a bad reputation for truth and veracity. His whole life has been a lie. He has used his church. He has used his friends. He has used his community and his family. And, worst of all, he has used his own son - not as Abraham did - he sacrificed his son on the altar of greed."

The prosecutor's closing argument was emotional and powerful. It took the jury only 71 minutes to reach a verdict. On June 5th, 1975, they unanimously sentenced Ronald Clark O'Bryan to death.

That sentence also sealed the fate of O'Bryan's family. After O'Bryan's trial, his wife immediately filed for divorce. She later remarried and she and her new husband adopted O'Bryan's six-year-old daughter.

So, when Ronald Clark O'Bryan was sent to death row, he had no friends, no family, and no one to turn to for support.

Judgement Day for the Candyman


Like all condemned inmates in the state of Texas, Ronald Clark O'Bryan was sent to death row at the infamous Huntsville Unit in Huntsville, Texas. While he was incarcerated, O'Bryan was described as having few, if any, friends. Other death row prisoners hated and despised O'Bryan for having killed a child. At one point, the inmates even petitioned the warden to hold a celebration party on the day O'Bryan would be executed.
It appears that even some of the most brutal criminals in the state thought that O'Bryan had crossed the line.

A deeply religious man, O'Bryan spent much of his days on death row reading his Bible and talking with the prison chaplain. He also continued to maintain his absolute innocence.

Ronald O'Bryan (left) plays a game of dominoes with fellow death row inmate Raymond Riles

In 1979, O'Bryan's appeal was heard by the Texas Supreme Court. The Court unanimously rejected his appeals and scheduled an execution date for August 8th, 1980, but O'Bryan's attorneys successfully petitioned for a stay of execution so they could file further appeals.

After O'Bryan's appeals were again rejected, another execution date was scheduled for May 25, 1982, but that date would be stayed yet again when O'Bryan submitted a request for a new trial. That request was later denied, and a third execution date was scheduled for October 31st, 1982, the eighth anniversary of O'Bryan's crime. It was to be the first execution by lethal injection in the United States. The judge overseeing the case was so determined to see O'Bryan put to death that he even volunteered to personally drive the inmate to the execution chamber.

However, O'Bryan submitted another appeal, this time to the US Supreme Court, asking for another trial. This action resulted in the court ordering that the execution be indefinitely delayed while they discussed whether or not to hear the case.

A little more than a month after O'Bryan was granted the stay, the state of Texas carried out its first execution since 1964 and the first execution ever by lethal injection, putting convicted murderer Charlie Brooks to death in the new execution chamber in Huntsville on December 7th, 1982.

Finally, O'Bryan's last appeal was rejected, and a fourth and final execution date was set for March 31st, 1984. Even with his appeals exhausted, O'Bryan continued to maintain his innocence.

On March 30, 1984, Ronald O'Bryan was transferred to the "death house" in Huntsville, Texas, to await execution. While there, he ordered a large last meal consisting of a medium to well-done T-bone steak, French fries, ketchup, corn, sweet peas, a lettuce and tomato salad with French dressing and eggs, bread rolls, iced tea, saltines, sweetener, and a Boston cream pie.

Shortly after midnight on March 31st, 1984, Ronald O'Bryan was led from his death watch cell, shackled, to the execution chamber. He lay down on a wheeled, white hospital gurney and guards strapped his body down with a series of leather belts.

Ronald Clark O'Bryan was executed by lethal injection in the death chamber in Huntsville, Texas, in 1984. He was the third person to be executed in Texas since the death penalty was reinstated, and the 16th person executed in the US since 1976 overall.

Before his execution, O'Bryan read a prepared last statement to the witnesses:
"What is about to transpire here is wrong!", the statement read. "However, we as human beings do make mistakes and errors. This execution is one of those wrongs yet doesn't mean our whole system of justice is wrong."

"Therefore," the statement went on, "I would forgive all who take part in any way in my death. Also, to anyone I have offended in any way during my 39 years, I pray and ask your forgiveness, just as I forgive anyone who offended me in any way. And I pray and ask God’s forgiveness for all of us respectively as human beings."

"To my loved ones, I extend my undying love. To those close to me, know in your hearts I love you one and all. God bless you all and may God’s best blessings be always yours."

That concluded O'Bryan's statement. There was no final confession to his crime, no last-minute admission of guilt, and no mention of the young child he murdered. O'Bryan went to his death still proclaiming his innocence, and showing absolutely no remorse. In fact, he looked towards the witnesses and winked and nodded several times.

At 12:38 AM, the lethal drugs began to flow through the IV tube into O'Bryan's left arm. As the murderer yawned and gasped, one of the witnesses, an 18-year-old female admirer of O'Bryan, called out "Ron, I'll miss you!". O'Bryan nodded slightly, then looked up towards the ceiling. He shuddered, emitted a short gurgling sound, then closed his eyes and went still as his lips turned blue.

At 12:48 AM on March 31st, 1984, Ronald Clark O'Bryan was formally pronounced dead. He was the third person to be executed in Texas since the death penalty was reinstated in 1976.

Outside the prison, a small gathering of about 30 death penalty opponents held a candlelight vigil to protest the execution. They were outnumbered, however, by a huge crowd of up to 300 college students who had gathered to celebrate the occasion, wearing Halloween masks and holding signs in support of the execution. Several employees of a local bar even handed out giant Pixy Stix to each of the rallygoers.

A crowd of people gathered outside Huntsville Prison to celebrate O'Bryan's execution

When O'Bryan's death was officially confirmed, a cheer went up among the supporters, who yelled "Trick-or-Treat!" and showered the death penalty opponents with candy.

"The Man Who Killed Halloween"


Ronald O'Bryan would never hurt anyone again, but his crime forever haunted (excuse the pun) Halloween for many people not just in Texas, but across the country. Many people who lived in the surrounding area never celebrated Halloween again, and parents kept a closer eye than ever on the candy that their children ate. It is because of this that Ronald O'Bryan earned the moniker of "The Man Who Killed Halloween".

"I will never celebrate Halloween again", commented one parent. She explained that the holiday only served to remind her of O'Bryan's crime. Other parents had similar sentiments, and warned children about the dangers of receiving candy from strangers.

For many people, Ronald O'Bryan didn't just ruin lives; he ruined Halloween itself. He shattered a sense of innocence that no one thought could be shattered. He committed a crime so terrible that many didn't think such an act was possible.

Even today, years after O'Bryan's crime and execution, the urban legend of a mad poisoner handing out toxin-laced sweets or candied apples with razor blades to children still persists, despite the fact that there has been no evidence of this ever happening aside from some isolated copycat incidents.

While Ronald O'Bryan did not forever ruin Halloween, as many feared, he undoubtedly tarnished it forever, and the implications of his crime still persist to this day.

Truly, like a ghost, Ronald O'Bryan's crime still continues to haunt Halloween, serving as an ever-present reminder of how an innocent holiday of fun was shattered by the actions of a man so blinded by greed and so lustful for money that he was willing to kill anyone and everyone to get what he wanted.

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