By Dr. Kathryn Reisdorfer

When we think about the Old West, we often conjure up images from movies about gun-slinging desperadoes and barroom brawls. Though Hollywood tends to exaggerate and romanticize these events, it is true that violence was widespread, and murders, especially in the early days of prospecting and mining, were frequent.

Suicides were also common in those days of wild dreams and dashed hopes. 

Despite the fact that much of the violence gave way to more orderly living as mining camps developed urban respectability, violent deaths were still common enough. In the fall of 1909, the Prescott Journal Miner reported several suicides. A miner came home to his cabin near Prescott to hear his wife say, "There's something for you." Then she drank poison and was dead before the miner could summon help. A young man killed himself in Kirkland. The wife of a Prescott policeman shot herself. 

These sketchy stories were dotted throughout the newspaper under small headlines, but the telling of one incident consumed half of the front page and nearly all of page 5 on October 27 that year. SLAYS HUSBAND AND KILLS SELF was the headline spread across the entire front page. The victims, a "popular" young couple, were, by all accounts, deeply in love and devoted to one another. 

Park W. Latimer, 38 years old, was described as a genial, successful engineer who had come to town several years before with Mary, his "handsome and accomplished" wife. Not long before that, the two had a whirlwind courtship that was romantic enough to be written up in a newspaper in Cincinnati, Mary's hometown. 

Park Latimer was at the Grand Canyon when he met Mary Brown, an attractive nurse caring for an invalid who was recuperating there. It was love at first sight. The way the story goes, the couple waited until the invalid was well before they made their wedding plans. Then they were so eager to get married that they did not want to wait three and a half hours for the regular train from the Canyon to Williams. So they chartered an engine (minus the train) to take them to their wedding. The engineer, drawn in by their excitement, put on full steam to get them to the church on time. 

After living briefly in Quartzite, the Latimers moved to Prescott where they resided in a "cozy home" in the Otis Addition (probably on South Washington). Latimer, a Texan by birth, operated a successful engineering firm with one partner. He had also been elected county surveyor and then was appointed city engineer. 

Life was going swimmingly for them. Park was doing well professionally; they had close friends and an active social life. On the day of the tragedy, Latimer left his office in a jolly mood, according to his partner, H. C. Shotwell. Latimer told Shotwell that he would be in early the next day to do paper work, so when he was not there by noon, Shotwell began to worry. He went to Latimer's home, and when no one answered the door, he forced his way in through a window. 

There the couple lay, cold in death, and, as the newspaper pointed out, they were already turning purple. The scene was chilling. Mary lay peacefully with her head on Park's shoulder; however, the events of the night before had been anything but peaceful. 

Apparently Mrs. Latimer planned for the event, securing a .38 caliber Smith and Wesson. She may have fired the first shot when her husband was asleep because there was a bullet hole in a pillow. Probably the young wife was so nervous that she missed, even at such a close range. The newspaper speculated that it was dark in the room when Park Latimer jumped up and began to run. He upset furniture as his wife fired at him four more times, finally attaining her object with a bullet to his stomach. 

Then, and this is all newspaper speculation, Mary turned on the electric lights and waited fifteen minutes (neighbors who heard the earlier volley reported hearing a single shot after this interval). She lined up the five spent cartridges on the floor next to her, reloaded her gun, lay down on top of her husband and carefully aimed straight at her own heart. Death was probably instantaneous. 

Their faithful collie "maintained a vigil" for hours, and when authorities arrived on the scene, he seemed joyful-apparently believing that help had arrived. Of course, his masters were beyond help. 

At the news of the murder/suicide, Prescott residents were shaken. The newspaper called this tragedy one of the most dramatic that had ever happened in the entire southwest. What, they asked, could have precipitated this horrific event? 

The first conclusion was that Mrs. Latimer was insane. One old friend testified at the inquest that, prior to her marriage when Mary's favorite brother died, the shock caused an injury to her spinal cord. The witness added that, despite the fact that Mary had spent a year in a sanitarium, she still had "spells" when her behavior was completely irrational. She would say and do things that she could not recall once she became lucid. 

Her sister, Mrs. Atwood of Cincinnati, had a different story. Mary Latimer was frightened of her husband, Atwood said. Mary had told her sister that Park's mind was deranged from too much work. Even his partner said Park had been out of sorts for months. That's why Shotwell recalled that on the day of the murder, Park Latimer was in a jolly mood. It was a change. 

Then, there was the article from Cosmopolitan (yes, Cosmopolitan was around in 1909) that investigators found in the Latimer home. It was a letter to the editor of the magazine saying how frightening a recent story of the "other woman" had been to the reader, whose signature had been torn off. "It made my heart fairly ache," the unknown correspondent wrote. "I asked myself what would happen if I were the poor, unfortunate wife in the story who without any warning comes face to face with these heart-wrenching proofs of her husband's love for the 'other woman.'" 

While friends and family were without answers to the puzzle and still deep in shock, the corpses were removed to the Ruffner Undertaking Parlors. Gawkers tried to get a look at them, but only close friends were allowed to view the bodies after the service. 

As was the custom in those days, fraternal orders handled funerals. This one was officiated by the Knights of Pythias. They waited for several days until Mrs. Atwood completed the journey from Ohio. The day after she arrived, the priest from St. Luke's Episcopal church read the religious rites, and the Knights of Pythias performed their customary services at the double grave. 

Mrs. Atwood was escorted by Mr. Shotwell and another friend of Park's, J. B. Girand, the Territorial Engineer. The couple's pallbearers were among the most important men in town-merchants and professionals, including the noted photographer, Tom Bate. They carried two caskets, one black and one white. I cannot help but wonder whether white was for the bride or for the victim. 

You cannot find their graves now. There are no markers for them in the International Order of Odd Fellows cemetery. Undoubtedly, the funeral service contained the words, "May they rest in peace." And so they may, as they lie mute, concealing forever the solution to the puzzle of their deaths. 

(Kathryn Reisdorfer is a Fellow at the "Cities and Public Spaces" Institute at the Library of Congress. Her current project is researching opera houses in mining camps between 1880-1920.) 



Sharlot Hall Museum Photograph Call Number: (Ruffner Funeral Home Record 2-142). Reuse only by permission.
The Murder-Suicide of the Latimers can be deduced from their funeral home records shown here. This couple, who were, "by all accounts deeply in love and devoted to one another," is buried in black and white caskets at unmarked plots next to each other at the International Order of Odd Fellows cemetery.