by Charly Mann

The fall of 1961 was a very strange time in Chapel Hill. In those months nine men in town met very unusual deaths, and for the most part the primary media in town – The Chapel Hill Weekly and WCHL - ignored these events. What puzzled me then as a twelve year old boy, and now, is why were so many men dying so young and mostly in such curious situations. I usually heard about these deaths from small pieces in the Durham Morning Herald or The Daily Tar Heel and was always disappointed that the deaths were rarely even mentioned anywhere else.

Henry Owen Jr's death certificate, from possible acute alcholism, September 1961, Chapel Hill, NC

I have now gone through old clippings and articles I saved from this time to give you a sampling of these circumstances. Of the nine deaths, the Chapel Hill coroner classified two as mysteries, four as suicides, one an accident, and two by natural causes. Most of these deaths seemed to me to merit more examination. For example on Saturday September 23, 1961 Harry Paxton Owen, Jr., 23 was found dead in his bed with a bottle of alcohol on his nightstand. The coroner did not perform an autopsy on Owen, but said on the death report that the "immediate cause" of death was "possible acute alcoholism." The next week on October 4th Robert Smith Mauldin, Jr., 33, died in his apartment on Prichard Avenue. Again, no autopsy was performed and this time the death certificate said "immediate cause of death due to natural causes and possible heart attack."

Robert Mauldin's death certificate , death from natural causes, possible heart attack, Chapel Hill, NC

The very day after Mauldin’s death, on October 5th, 1961, the strangest pair of deaths in Chapel Hill's history occurred. Two UNC students living in Cobb dormitory, James Michael Barham, 20, and William Henry Harrison Johnson, Jr., 24, were found dead in the bedroom they shared. For several days only the Tar Heel and the Durham paper reported information on these deaths, but after almost a week on October 10th the Chapel Hill Weekly published the following piece detailing these bizarre deaths.

STRANGE DEATHS IN COBB DORM

One week ago tomorrow, two students were found dead in their beds in Cobb Dormitory. So far, police have been able to establish that they died from cyanide poisoning. They do not know exactly how, or why. The investigation is continuing. This is the story up to the present.

From outward appearances, it is extraordinary that James Michael Barham and William Henry Harrison Johnson Jr. should be drawn together in a University student body of 9,000.

They formed an odd contrast.

Barham was 21, good-looking, with blond, crew-cut hair, a cleft chin, straightforward eyes and a friendly expression, and had been active in extracurricular activities as a high school student in Burlington, 25 miles away. At the University he was vice president of a musical fraternity, played trumpet in the University Band and with a small dance combo made up of the top pop players on campus.

Johnson was 24, three years older than Mike, a graduate student in industrial relations. He, too, had been a pre-medical student, but eye trouble had forced him to switch studies. His eyes were deep-set in a strong, dark face, and he wore dark-rimmed glasses. He was not a joiner, shunned extracurricular activities, rarely smiled, was quiet and retiring, and spoke, as a rule, only when spoken to.

When Barham and Johnson first met is vague, but their association had been definitely established by last spring.

When the spring semester ended, Johnson went to work for the summer as assistant manager of a suburban restaurant in Greensboro. He was highly regarded by his employer in Greensboro. "He was a clean-cut, nice-looking young man," the employer said. "Didn't smoke or drink. He had all the qualifications you'd require in a summer job like that."

After Johnson had been at the restaurant for three weeks, he persuaded his employer to give Barham a job. "He said Barham would be an asset," the employer said. "So we gave him a try. He worked Saturdays and Sundays as cashier." Johnson and Barham lived together in a Greensboro boarding house.

"They were very reserved," the employer recalled. "No horseplay. They were studious and bookish, what you would call academic. They were retiring, not outgoing—introverts."

Barham had dates while he was working in Greensboro, but Johnson apparently never did.

The restaurant owner said he understood that Barham was supposed to have had a date with a girl in Greensboro last Friday. When Barham failed to appear, the girl called Chapel Hill and was told that he was dead.

"Barham was an extremely nice boy, what you might call a mother's boy," the restaurant owner said. "He wanted desperately to do a good job for us. But he did not have the aggressive quality necessary to lead people. He was not forceful."

He recalled that Johnson had a habit of blinking his eyes when he talked to him and "you couldn't tell whether he was listening or not."

"The two boys were extremely fond of each other," the restaurant owner said.

Barham quit his job in Greensboro sometime in August. Johnson continued working at the restaurant up until just before the Univerity's fall semester began in mid-September.

When Barham returned last month to the University to begin his third year as a pre-medical student his plans were well-laid. He had a job as a student adviser in Cobb Dormitory, another job waiting on tables in the Lenoir Hall and a third part-time job picking up and delivering cleaning in the dormitory.

As a dorm adviser he had a room rent-free, with the comparative luxury of only one roommate. A record enrollment of 9,100 students this year had forced the University to assign three students to most of the older dormitory rooms. Barham's roommate had been assigned by University officials, an arbitrary choice.

A few days after classes started in mid-September, Johnson went to unusual lengths to have his room changed so he could live with Barham. He persuaded Barham's original roommate to move out. Barham accepted the change.

As an advisor, Barham was liked by many students in Cobb, one of the largest dormitories on campus and the home of more than four hundred students. Most of the students on Barham's floor were freshmen. They called him Mike. They went to him with their problems and found him friendly, easy-going, always eager to help. He had smile for everyone.

Mike Barham and Bill Johnson, two University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill students who died mysteriously in 1961 at Cobb Dormitory

With the semester still young and life in the dormitory largely impersonal, Johnson was known by only a few students. Those who knew him called him Bill.

Johnson began working again in Lenoir Hall with Barham. This struck some as rather puzzling, since Johnson wore expensive clothes, drove a 1960 car, and always seemed to have plenty of money.

Despite the sharp contrast of personalities, and an apparent lack of mutual interests, as roommates Barham and Johnson were very close. Their beds had matching spreads; a dual-speaker hi-fi phonograph was installed in their room for Barham, the music lover. There was a television set. The window was hung with green plaid draperies.

Unlike most other students, Barham and Johnson kept their rooms as neat as mother could have asked. Everything was in its proper place, just so.

Last Friday morning, October 6, Robert Holt, a Negro janitor at Cobb, entered the room to clean it. Barham and Johnson were still in bed. There was a pillow over Johnson's face and most of Barham's face was covered by the bedclothes. It had been a cool night. Holt swept the floor, all that was usually necessary, and left the room without disturbing the students. It was customary for janitors to sweep while students slept. He thought the two were heavy sleepers.

Later that morning, at 11:45 a telephone call came from the University dining hall to find out why Johnson and Barham had not reported for work. Holt answered the telephone. He buzzed the room, but no one came. Then he went down the hall and knocked on the door. There was no answer.

Holt entered the room and found Johnson and Barham still in their beds, lying just as he had seen them before. He peered around he edge of the bedclothes at Barham's face. There was a trace of foam at the mouth and blood at the nose. The eyes were slitted. Holt raced back to the phone and dialed the police.

Outside it was a beautiful autumn day. The sun shone warmly on the student parking lot and tennis courts behind Cobb. Across the street from the dormitory, the trees surrounding the University's outdoor theater were just on the turn from green to gold. A bell sounded across the campus, tolling the end of a class period. Students appeared, coming from classes, going to eat lunch at the Monogram Club beside Cobb. There was talk of the UNC-Clemson football game scheduled the next day.

The police arrived at Cobb, took one look in number 201, and detailed students to guard hall doors and stairways. Campus policemen arrived and supplemented the guard. The campus security officer came, and a County deputy sheriff. The coroner was called. Students who lived on the hall were asked to stay in their rooms or out of the building. While crowds of curious undergraduates clustered outside the dormitory and at the ends of Cobb's corridors and talked in muted tones, Barham and Johnson lay dead in their beds. They were lying on their backs, wearing pajamas.

Before the coroner arrived the questioning began. One student was interviewed in Johnson's and Barham's room. Another student's room was commandeered as a "waiting room" for passers-bys. Newsmen were either hustled away from the stairways or shuffled hurriedly into the "waiting room." The janitor was questioned. The police and the campus security officer roamed the second floor, searching for students who could shed some light, any light, on the deaths.

Later, after permission had been given to move the blanket-shrouded bodies, students ran interference in front of the bearers, waving their hands in front of photographers' cameras. Cobb Dormitory buzzed with speculation.

Last Friday, the police learned only one thing for certain: Barham and Johnson were dead. This week, they were still trying to find the answer to two questions: exactly how and why. They were turning out to be nagging questions, leading up a series of blind alleys.

Days of questioning students ed in a sketchy, often contradictory pattern of Barham's activities up until about twelve hours before the bodies were discovered.
Barham had reportedly conducted a meeting of his musical fraternity the night before, and was also reported seen in a Chapel Hill pool room at about the same time. Johnson's whereabouts at that time could not be established.

At 9:30 Thursday night a freshman went to 201 Cobb Dorm to pick up his dry cleaning from Barham. Barham and Johnson were in the room. The freshman was given his clothes by Barham, who was cheerful and smiling. The freshman noticed nothing unusual.

An hour and a half later Barham lurched from the room and staggered down the hallway to the bathroom. Several students were there washing. They heard Barham retching. Finally he spit out a small blob of mucous. Then he collapsed backward, curling up on the floor. One student rushed to help. Barham was having convulsions. His eyes were slitted. He appeared to have lost consciousness and was unresponsive.

The student ran out of the bathroom and down the hall and called Johnson. Before he reached the room, Johnson came out.

"Barham's sick," the student said. "Is he drunk?"

"He doesn't drink," Johnson said.

Johnson followed the student into the bathroom and stood astride Barham and tried to lift him. Then the student told Johnson to get out of the way and, with another student, helped Barham up. Johnson seemed to be annoyed. They carried Barham back to his room, with Johnson walking along holding Barham's arm, but making no effort to help carry his roommate. Going down the hall, Johnson muttered that his roommate was drunk again, contradicting what he had said minutes before.

The two students placed Barham on his bed, on top of the covers. His eyes were still slitted. The convulsions had ceased, but his breathing was labored. There was no odor of alcohol. He still seemed to be unconscious.

One student suggested calling an ambulance. Johnson did not appear to be concerned.

"If he doesn't snap out of it, I'll call a doctor myself," he said, then ushered the two students out of the room as quickly as possible.

When the door closed it was about 11:15. The bodies were discovered a little less than 12 hours later. Neither Barham nor Johnson were reported seen again alive.
News of the two deaths spread quickly, received first with shock, then swelling curiosity.

"This is a terrible tragedy," said Chancellor William B. Aycock. The University Band was reported to be reluctant to play at the football game the next day with Barham missing from the ranks. And the football players, who gave a listless performance in losing to Clemson, were said to have been affected by the news.
There were several public demands for the full facts of the case.

An autopsy ordered by the coroner disclosed that both had died from cyanide poisoning. But most of the other facts uncovered by pathologists and police turned out to be negative.

An examination of milkshake cups found in the room showed no trace of cyanide. Tests on fruit, cookies, and a jar of peanut butter in the room also failed to turn up any trace of cyanide. There was no evidence as to where the cyanide had been obtained or how it had been administered. It is a common chemical, easily obtained, easily disguised in taste. In sufficient quantity it causes death quickly and without marked symptoms. In smaller quantity it can cause death more slowly, with dizziness, labored breathing, convulsions, and coma.

Two days after the bodies were discovered, Ralph Sargeant, a student from Plainfield, New Jersey., was arrested on a charge of illegal dispensing of drugs. In his possession were eight mercuric cyanide pills. He had given a ninth pill to a fellow student with a note which said, "Save this. It may be your best friend on the way out."
Sargeant said he had gotten the pills from a Plainfield dental office where he had worked during the summer. He was relieved of the deadly pills and sent to the University hospital for observation. Officers said Sargeant's cyanide had no connection with the two deaths.

"We are pretty certain that it was not mercuric cyanide that killed them," said Chapel Hill Police Chief William Blake. "We don't think anyone's going around poisoning people."

One student questioned by police said Johnson had asked him about two weeks previously where he could get some "quick-acting poison." The student said he advised Johnson not to use cyanide because of its great danger.

The University Medical and Pharmacy Schools, chemistry labs, and Chapel Hill druggists and merchants were checked in an effort to find the source of the cyanide. Chief Blake said the chances of success were small.

"It's baffling," he said. "It looks almost impossible to arrive at any definite conclusions. I'm just hoping we'll be able to have enough evidence to prove what happened. It was either murder-suicide, double murder, or a suicide pact." He ruled out the possibility of accidental deaths.

The police also ruled out any connection between the death of Barham and Johnson and an unusual death discovered in town two days earlier. Robert Smith Mauldin, 33, an X-ray technician at the University Dental School, was found in his apartment sitting in a chair facing a television set, which was still on, with a magazine in his hand. A dog was wandering around the room. He had been dead about thirty-six hours when discovered. Death was ruled to be by natural causes. The specific cause was not announced and an autopsy was not performed.

Now the police are working on a theory of murder-suicide.

"We are close to a solution," Chief Blake said yesterday, "based on circumstantial evidence rather than on natural facts or an eyewitness. There are strong indications it was murder-suicide."

The police are investigating the possibility that cyanide was sprinkled on crackers and then covered with peanut butter.

Faint smears on Barham's sheet are being analyzed for traces of cyanide. An autopsy report on the students' vital organs also is pending. It has been a frustrating investigation for the police.

"What troubles me," said one officer, "is that we could carry this investigation on till doomsday and never come up with cold facts that would say, 'This is it. This is the way it happened and why it happened.”

From the October 10th 1961 Chapel Hill Weekly

To this day, the cause of these deaths remain a mystery. For the past 40 years, the Phi Mu Alpha Sinfonia fraternity at the University of North Carolina has awarded the James Michael Barham Memorial Scholarship in music in Barham's memory.

Tweet