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Rated: E · Short Story · Emotional · #2163172
How an evening of music and dancing turned into a Horror Story
The Wishing Well


September of 1975

I had just lost my job in Ohio and had recently returned to my hometown in Western Pennsylvania. A good friend of mine, Bruce Fisher and his brother Jay had just re‐opened a Night Club called “The Wishing Well” on the outskirts of town. It was only open on Fridays and Saturdays and always had a rock band booked.

It seemed that I always ended up at the Well on the weekends, paying the $5 dollar cover charge to get in to have a beer and enjoy the music. Bruce knew I was not working and said he needed to hire another bartender and asked if I would be interested. Since I was out of work and could use the spending money, I said yes and started bartending that same evening. It was kind of exciting, live music, pretty women and free drinks.

On the days when the Well would be open we would meet in the late morning. The beer distributer delivery truck would arrive at around 11am. We would then stock the coolers with beer, sweep the floors and get the place ready to open later that evening. After readying the Well for the evening we would leave to do whatever each of us had to do. Later that evening we would go back at around 7:pm to open the bar and to let the band in to set up for the evening. A few people would start arriving as early as 8:30 pm. At 9:00 pm the band would start playing and It would start to get crowded.

The Well had two bars, one main bar near the entrance and a smaller one behind the dance floor near the seating area. I shared the main bar with Bob. He was a likeable fellow with long hair and tattoos on his arms. Another bartender Johnny manned the rear bar.

After the band started the Well took on a life of its own with the sweet sounds of live 70’s rock music. The dance floor would be crowded with couples dancing to the music. People sitting around the bar and at the tables would be trying to talk over the music. The air would be filled with smoke from cigarettes, cigars and whatever.

After the band played the last song of the evening we would announce last call at 2am. Then we would begin the cleanup for the next half hour or so. Customers would be finishing their drinks, and the band would be packing up their instruments for the evening. Bruce and Jay would be counting out the nights proceeds from the cash registers and preparing the night deposit. As the doors were locked for the
night, some would head home and others would opt for breakfast at a local diner.


December 14th, 1975

10 days before Christmas. Many people were home for the holidays so the Well was packed. At approximately 1:30am while I was waiting on a customer there was a loud disturbance at the other end of the bar. A black man was arguing loudly with another man and there was some pushing and shoving. I finished up with my customer and went to observe what was happening. Immediately across the bar from me was a young black man wearing a high school jacket. I noticed he was obviously underage. His hair was braided in rows and he had a noticeable gap between his lower front teeth. He was with two other young white men. Bruce approached the men and yelled across the floor to Larry “Are these the ones”, to which Larry answered affirmatively. Bruce then told the three men they would have to leave. They resisted and started arguing with Bruce. I took a can of Mace that was stored under the bar, got Bruce’s attention and handed it to him. He took it and put it in to his rear pocket. The black man and his friends keep arguing and had not begun to leave so Bruce, Larry, Jay and a few customers forcibly escorted the men out the front doors into the parking lot.

Belle, a waitress at the Club came to the front bar and I asked her to watch the bar while I went to see what was going on in the parking lot. I went to the entrance and opened the door to look out and found Bruce on the other side. He was watching the black man and his two friends standing approximately 15 feet away. They were arguing and cursing with those who had helped escort them out.

Bruce said everything was under control and told me to go back and man the bar which I did. A few minutes later, Bruce, Larry and those who assisted in removing the group returned. One of them was holding and rubbing his eyes. He had apparently been sprayed with Mace. Bruce led him into the kitchen where he was able to flush his eyes and face. Bruce said that everything was OK.


The band was playing and everything was back to normal. At 2am, after last call we closed the front bar and I went down to the small restaurant area in the basement to get a sandwich that I had ordered. At about 2:30am, I was standing talking with a young woman when Bob came running down the stairs yelling that they were back and had guns. I then heard the loud sound of gunfire coming from the main floor above us. Three or four more loud shots rang out and we took cover in a restroom in the rear of the basement. I heard the sound of someone falling down the stairs and after several minutes could hear screaming and crying. I came out of the restroom and went towards the stairs and found a young man I knew apparently dead at the bottom of the stairway with his unseeing eyes wide open and set. There was thick bright red blood all around him on the floor. A man stood over him crying and started punching a metal utility cabinet beside him yelling “No, No, No”.

I started up the blood spattered steps to find chaos at the top. There were many people crying and sobbing and others frozen expressionless. Still others were helping the injured and wounded. I then saw Bruce lying on the floor with Bob holding Bruce’s head up away from all the blood on the floor. I went over and knelt beside him putting my hand on his back and spoke to him but there was no answer. He was still breathing but was unconscious.

There were spent brass rifle casings lying on the floor near him. He had been shot in the lower back with a 30.06 high powered rifle round. It had gone clear through him. Someone said they had called 911 and that the ambulance and police were on the way. I then went over to the entrance looking and listening for the ambulance. It seemed like forever but about 20 minutes later the ambulance arrived and they put Bruce on a stretcher and carried him and the other victim into the ambulance and sped away with the siren blaring.

A short while later the phone in the lobby rang. Bruce’s brother, Jay answered it and then slammed the phone down back on the hook breaking it, crying that Bruce had died.

The State Police arrived and blocked the entrance and exits so no one could leave before they were interviewed. After about an hour later the detectives from the State Police Crime Lab arrived. I was able to provide my name and address to the detectives and was allowed to leave at approximately 4am.

At around 7am that morning I was visited at my home by State Police Detectives and interviewed. They said that they had already arrested the men. They said the main shooter was Hugh Fant and had been identified from photographs in a High School yearbook.

After they had left I went to Bruce’s Parent’s home to be with his family. It was one of the hardest things I had ever done, knocking on their door when I knew there would be sadness and heartache on the other side. His father answered the door and I didn’t say anything as I was in tears and his father embraced me. It was like a nightmare I had been at the Well with Bruce, my best friend just hours before and now he was dead.

The Funeral

Bruce had many friends and at the funeral home there were many people visiting to express their
condolences. Bruce’s girlfriend “Beverly” was barely able to even be there as she was uncontrollably sobbing and crying. I myself had tears in my eyes. It seemed like a bad dream. As we prepared to leave after visiting hours were over we couldn’t find Beverly. As we looked around we found her embracing Bruce’s body partially pulling him up towards her while, crying and sobbing. As we pried her away from Bruce, her nose started to bleed and several small drops of bright red blood dripped onto the white satin interior of Bruce’s coffin.

The day of the funeral came. It was a somber and sad day. After the sermon at the church we preceded to the cemetery. I was a pall bearer and helped carry Bruce’s body to his final resting place. This was one of the hardest times of my life.

Re‐opening the Well

The week before New Year’s, Bruce’s Brother Jay called me and asked me to help clean up the Club to get it ready to reopen for New Year’s Eve. We all ( The Staff) met at the Well to clean it up and get it ready. It was so dark and grisly to be there the first time since the shootings. Tables and chairs were still overturned in disarray. Dark dried blood was everywhere. There was a hole in the main bar arm rest where a rifle round had gone through, the one that had killed a customer trying to get out of harm’s way. We reopened for New Year’s Eve that evening but there were very few customers.

A Few Weeks Later

I was checking ID and taking cover charge at the entrance. A girl I had known “Concetta” as a customer came into the Well with a very attractive red head that I had never met before. I asked Concetta to introduce me. She then told me that this was her cousin “Beverly Lantz”. I hugged Concetta but couldn’t take my eyes off of her beautiful red haired cousin. They paid the cover charge and went into the Club. They didn’t stay long and left after a little while. We stayed open for most of January but we never did get the crowds back that we had in the past so it was decided to close permanently. The reason was obvious to me, would you really want your daughter or son frequenting a place that just had experienced a double murder.

July 1976

After the murders, I was lost and began drinking just to calm myself. I didn’t realize at the time that I was experiencing PTSD. Time went by quickly over winters end and into spring and summer. In July a friend asked me to go to with him to Ocean City, Maryland for the 4Th of July weekend. We had a great time partied and danced and met several women. We came home on Saturday morning July 5th.

That evening another friend “Nick” and I went out that evening to a nearby lounge. When we went in and I saw Concetta sitting with her red haired cousin Beverly. Nick and I walked over to their table and started talking. Nick asked Beverly to dance and they went to the dance floor. When he came back we were getting them drinks and I told him Bev was the one I had told him about, and could he back off and give me a chance with her. He said no problem, and to go for it. Bev and I danced the rest of the evening. As we said goodnight outside the club I kissed her and she gave me her telephone number. I called her the next day and to make a long story short, we recently celebrated our 42nd wedding anniversary.

I found out later that the second man killed at the Well that evening was her second cousin whom she really didn’t know.

Today after being together 43 years we have 5 children and many grandchildren and best of all She is my very best Friend!

The Trail


It was not until September 1976 before the trio went on trail. The main shooter, 18 year old Hugh Fant was convicted on 2 counts of 3rd degree murder and sentenced to two terms of 20 to 30 years in prison to run consecutively. A second black man who shot a 38 caliber pistol in the club received a sentence of Life in prison in a separate trail. He didn’t shoot anyone, but he received the harshest sentence of all, go figure!

Today

After 43 years when I am asked about the murders I still choke up and can hardly speak remembering the horror of that night, December 14th 1975.


© Copyright 2018 Chuck Dawson (cdawson at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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