In the pilot episode of Twin Peaks, Andy begins to take pictures of Laura’s dead body and then begins to cry. Sheriff Truman tells Andy, “My God, Andy. Same thing as last year in Mr. Blodgett’s barn….Is this gonna happen every damn time?” So what happened at the barn in 1989…..?
It was a peaceful February morning. The sun was coming up in the eastern sky after a night’s downpour mixed with snow and sleet as Lucy Moran arrived at the sheriff’s station and began the work day. As her usual routine when arriving in the morning, she walked to the small makeshift closet where they stored the coffee, and started a hot pot. She then walked over to her desk and removed the small page from the calendar on her desk that read February 13, 1988. She crumpled it up and threw it into the wastebasket under her desk. She sighed deeply looking at the calendar and the new day: February 14, 1988.
Andy had stayed over the night before after the two went to the Roadhouse for a few drinks. They got a little tipsy and wound up in bed later that night. Ready for a little loving, Lucy went into the bathroom and freshened up, putting perfume on her neck and putting on a small black nightie. She brushed her hair back and stepped out of the bathroom to approach Andy. She was about to announce herself when she heard a strange sound coming from her bed…
“Andy….” she sighed, and walked up to the bed next to him. He was out cold, still dressed in his blue jeans, boots and western-style buttoned down shirt. She groaned under her breath and braced herself as her head started to spin and her legs almost went out from under her. She shuffled into bed and was soon asleep, the alcohol streaming through her blood.
She woke up the next morning surprisingly refresh and with no hangover. Since she was a young child she had always woken up at 5 in the morning. No matter the time she went to bed or how much sleep she had gotten, she was always awake at 5 and could never sleep. This Sunday morning was no different. She got up at 5 and quickly showered and dressed for the day. She was out the door and making her way a few blocks down from the sheriff station in Twin Peaks. As always, she was in the door before 6 in the morning, and was often there to relieve the sleeping cop/attendant.
This morning, however, Deputy Norman Rillings was already gone, and the door to Sheriff Truman’s office was open and she could hear him working inside. After removing the date from the calendar, she walked over to the door and knocked on it.
“Good morning, Sheriff Truman.”
“Good morning, Lucy. Here as always before 6 o’clock,” he said to her putting down the paper in his hands and removing his feet from the desk. “I came in about an hour ago and told Rillings to go on home.”
“Okay, Sheriff Truman. I just came in and made a new pot of coffee. Would you like some when it’s finished brewing?”
“I could use a refill by then, Lucy. Thanks.”
Lucy smiled and then turned, her hair bouncing behind her as she went. She stopped off to check the pot and saw it was halfway finished and then made her way back to her desk, now waiting for the fresh order of the station’s daily order of morning doughnuts. Just as she sat, the phone rang and she picked it up.
“Good morning. Twin Peaks Sheriff Station. Lucy speaking. How may I help you?”
On the other line, a man frantically spoke, “I…I…I need to talk to Sheriff Truman….my barn….it’s been….been….”
“Slow down, Mr….start from the beginning. I don’t understand you. What’s your name, sir?”
“George Blodgett,” the man uttered. “My barn…I found something in it! It’s….it’s horrible…Let me talk to Sheriff Truman.”
“Okay, Mr. Blodgett. I am going to speak with Sheriff Truman now. I am putting you on hold, but I am not hanging up on you. Stay on the line so I can send you over to Sheriff Truman, okay? Hold on,” Lucy told the frantic man.
Lucy quickly pushed two buttons, a hold and the intercom button to Truman’s office. “Sheriff Truman, are you there?” she spoke.
In the office, Harry pressed his own intercom button, “Yes, Lucy, I’m here. What’s up?”
“Uh, Mr. Blodgett, you know, George Blodgett, the farmer up out at Highway J, the farmer who raises cows and pigs, up on Highway J…”
“Yes, Lucy, George Blodgett, I know him. Go on.”
” He’s on the phone and would like to speak with you. He seems very upset but I don’t know why. I am going to forward him to you to your office phone on your desk, if that’s okay. Is that okay, Sheriff Truman?”
“Yes, Lucy, send him to me.”
“Okay, Sheriff Truman. I am sending him to you now.” Lucy pushed on another button on the phone and then spoke to the man on the other end, “Mr. Blodgett? I am going to send you to Sheriff Harry S. Truman who is in his office right now. Hold on.”
With one swift move, Lucy pressed two more buttons and then waited for Truman’s voice in his office, “Yeah, George, how are you this morning? What’s up?”
Keeping the phone up to her ear, she pressed a third button on her phone switch and listened into the conversation, trying to be as quiet as possible and covering the mouthpiece with her hand.
“Not good, Sheriff Truman,” the man told him. “I went out to the barn to let my horses out into the pasture and I found a dead body, I think.”
“Okay, George. I am on my way now. Just sit tight and don’t let anyone inside the barn, okay?”
“No problem, Sheriff. Get out here as soon as you can–my horses are still in the barn and begging to get out!”
“Leaving now. I’ll be there in five minutes.” They hung up and Lucy did the same quietly. Her face was white as if she had seen a ghost and her mind was running wild of who she could call fist to tell them the news.
Truman came out of his office, grabbing his jacket and placing it around him. “I know you were listening, Lucy so I don’t need to tell you anything. Call both Hawk and Andy and get them up there immediately.”
“Okay, Sheriff Truman. Will do.”
He was about to go out the door, when he turned back around and said to her, “Not a word to anyone about this until you hear from me, okay?”
Making a face, Lucy nodded as she picked up the phone and dialed home. Truman was out the door and in his vehicle by the time Andy finally picked up the phone.
“Hello…?” Andy said, his voice cracking, his stomach churning from the night’s festivities.
“Hi pumpkin,” Lucy started. “Sheriff Truman wanted me to wake you and tell you to get to Mr. Blodgett’s farm immediately.”
Lucy shook her head, “Andy, wake up. You need to go to Mr. Blodgett’s farm out on Highway J.”
“Highway J….what, Lucy?”
Now frustrated, Lucy yelled into the phone, “WAKE UP, ANDY!!!!!”
Her voice rung inside of Andy’s head, making it throb under the hangover. “Lucy, don’t yell. I’m awake. And my head hurts….”
Now calm and trying to sound happy, “Sheriff Truman needs you over at Mr. Blodgett’s farm out on Highway J, east of Twin Peaks. He, Mr. Blodgett, found something.”
“Okay, Lucy. I love you, Pookie.”
“I love you too, Pumpkin,” Lucy replied and smiled. “I need to go now and call Deputy Hawk and tell him to go out there too, okay?”
“Okay, Lucy. Bye.”
“Bye.” Lucy hung up the phone and dialed Hawk’s home phone.
After two rings, the Indian picked up the phone, “Hello?”
“Deputy Hawk, this is Lucy at the sheriff station. Sheriff Truman wanted me to call you and tell you to go up to Mr. George Blodgett’s farm–he found something.”
“Okay, Lucy. Thanks”
“Bye,” Lucy said and hung up just as Shelly Johnson walked through the door with three 1 dozen boxes of doughnuts.
“Good morning Lucy,” Shelly said, placing the doughnuts on the counter.
“Good morning, Shelly,” Lucy smiled at her. “How are you this morning?”
“Was doing fine until I got to the diner. Our morning driver didn’t show up again this morning so I have to do the deliveries,” Shelly told the secretary, as she brushed her hair back with her right hand. “Second day in a row. Norma needs to get rid of him.” Shelly looked around the station. “Quiet today….where is everybody?”
“Sheriff Truman just went up to Mr. Blodgett’s farm because-” Lucy stopped herself, now biting her lip, and fighting the tendency to continue the sentence. “I’m sorry, Shelly, Sheriff Truman told me not to say anything.”
Shelly laughed and gave her a big toothy grin. “That’s okay. I have to get back to the diner and make some tips. Gotta pay those bills.”
Lucy nodded and watched Shelly exit the station and go out to her car. She picked up the boxes and carried them to the make-shift closet where she poured herself a cup of joe and grabbed a jelly doughnut. She walked back to her desk and started her daily crossword puzzle.
On his way to Mr. Blodgett’s farm, Truman called Doctor William Hayward to put him on standby just in case there was a body. About five minutes after leaving the sheriff station, he pulled onto the gravel road that belonged to Blodgett’s farm, just off the curvy Highway J.
As he approached the two story wooden cabin/farmhouse, he saw old man Blodgett standing on his porch, his left hand in his pocket, the other hold a large cup of what Truman guessed was black coffee….and knowing old George there, he probably added whiskey along with it.
Old man Blodgett’s family had been in Twin Peaks since the beginning, the story goes. His farming English family came from the East to start a new life in California but his father was very bad with directions. Instead of doing south, they ended up going north and discovered the small town of Twin Peaks. They purchased numerous acres from the Packard family and started their farm. They quickly learned that much didn’t grow up in this rainy weather, but nonetheless, the family did grow a few crops and made a nice living on the side. The farm had been passed down from son to son, and now 75-year-old George Blodgett was running the farm along with his oldest son. His wife had died back in 1985 due to lung cancer. Truman remembered her as being an avid smoker, rumor had it that she would go through three packs a day before her death.
As Truman pulled up to the house and stepped out,
Blodgett’s son stepped out of the cabin and up to his father. Side by side, the two men were the same height, around 6 feet tall. George was balding and quite thin, he smoked more than his wife. However his arms were big and muscular, even for such an old man. His son, on the other hand, was a portly fellow. Pushing around 300 pounds, his stomach protruded out over his buttoned-down shirt. At the very bottom, Truman could see the man’s stomach through the gaping holes that didn’t quite cover the man’s beer gut. He was in his 30s and would die of a heart attack before 50, Truman guessed.
“Morning, gentleman,” Truman said as he walked up to them. “Let’s take a look.”
The two men stepped off the porch and led the way to the side of the house and then toward the back where the bard sat about 50 yards ahead.
” So tell me what happened.” Truman shifted his hat on his head and glanced down at his watching hoping that Hawk and Andy would show up soon.
George started, his voice cracking due to the smoking for so many years, “I got up this morning, like I always do and fixed myself a pot of coffee. I went out to the barn, like I do every morning, yes sir, to let the horses out into the pasture and to feed them.” The man paused, trying to breath in.
Truman could hear that his breath was raspy.
” Go on,” Truman told him as the men walked through the inch of snow.
“So I opened up the barn door, and this strong smell came out….smelled like a pile of dead raccoons had been sitting in there for months!” George told him, glancing at his son, who was silently listening, his hands left hand stuck in his pocket, his right hand holding a canister of coffee.
” So I went in just a little bit, holding my breath and was trying to find where the smell was coming from. That’s when I noticed something laying at the other end of the barn. Looked human to me from where I was standing. I wasn’t going to touch it, so I came back in and called you before doing nothin’.”
“Good thinking, George.”
“Always better be safe than sorry,” George’s son, Matthew, finally pipped up in a long southern drawl. He had spent a number of years in the south after leaving home at 18.
They finally reached the barn and already Truman could smell something coming from inside the barn. He looked over at George, “And you were in here yesterday and saw nothing?”
“Yep.” George moved in front and swung the barn doors open, and a souring putrid smell of death bellowed out, making Truman take a step back and covering his face. He dug in his front pocket for his handkerchief and pulled it out, covering his nose, hoping this would stop the smell….of course, he could still smell whatever it was through the cloth.
“It’s damn rank in there!” George yelled, holding his own nose. Behind him, his son made pouty faces and covered half his face with his large and fat hand.
“Damn, that smells!” Truman said taking a few steps into the dark barn. Behind him, George flipped the light switch that helped illuminate the barn somewhat but not enough. Above their heads, the lights flickered on and off.
Truman glanced across the barn and came into contact with a large lifeless form laying amongst the hay and wooden chips.
The sheriff made his way forward, closer to the body, it was about 20 or 30 yards away. With each step, the smell seemed to get stronger. He motioned for George and Matthew to stay back and then continued his way forward, each step coming closer to a horrible smell.
Now only about 10 feet from the large thing on the floor, Truman could tell it was a human body, parts of it missing, looking like wolves and other animals had enjoyed a great supper the night before, maybe many nights before.
Truman turned back around and quickly headed for the door back to the two men.
“Gotta call in some help. I’ll be back. Why don’t the two of you go back inside. I’ll call you if I need anything.”
They nodded and made their way back to the house as Truman ran across the yard to his truck and called Dr. Hayward. As he hung up the phone, both Hawk and Andy came driving up in their cruisers.
“Damn time!” Truman said, turning toward the approaching vehicles, the smell of death, still stuck in his nostrils.
After a few minutes of gathering police materials and finding a few handkerchiefs to tie around their noses, Truman, Hawk and Andy started out toward the barn. From the house, the two men watched the cops carefully. Hawk held a small case of police instruments, while Andy carried the camera. Hawk led the way with his hands in his pocket, still smelling death. I’ll never get it off he said to himself as they approached the barn doors that were still ajar.
“Wh–wh–what’s that smell?” Andy asked covering his nose with his other hand. Even through the handkerchief, the smell was strong.
“Smells like a dead animal,” Hawk said.
“It’s not an animal, Hawk,” Harry said glancing back at his deputies. “I’m pretty sure of that.”
They entered the barn and made their way to the dead body which seemed to have been wrapped in an old carpet. There were scratches and tears where hungry wolves and other creatures were feasting on the corpse.
Under the handkerchief, Hawk said, “He or she’s
been dead awhile.”
Andy held the camera in his hand and stared down at the body.
“Andy, take some pictures before we roll it over.”
Andy lifted the camera to his face and started taking shots of the body. Through the lens he could see a bloody dead body about 5 feet 6 inches tall. It wasn’t possible yet to determine man or woman but whomever it was had been wearing hiking gear.
He took a shot of the person’s boots as Harry said aloud, “Looks like a hiker. Wearing a pretty warm jacket and nice hiking boots.” He was leaning down toward the body trying not to breathe through his mouth afraid he would be tasting the smell in his mouth for days. It had happened once before when he was a kid and he and a friend came upon a deer that had exploded and its remains laid around the ground. It was an awful smell and as a kid, he often breathed through his mouth, instead of his nose due to sinuses. He had the taste of the dead animal in his mouth for days.
Andy took a couple of more pictures and then put the camera to his side and wiped a tear away. Hawk noticed it first and nudged the sheriff.
“Andy?” Harry asked.
“I’m…I’m….Harry, I’m…..okay….” he croaked the last word out amongst a stream of tears.
“Andy. C’mon give me the camera.” Andy reached across the body and handed the Minolta to his boss. “Why don’t you go out the back of the barn and see if you can find anything interesting.”
“Oh, oh, okay, Harry,” he muttered, as he shuffled out the backdoor of the barn and turned a quick left. He leaned against the barn, looking back at the woods ahead of him. He wiped the tears away from his eyes and took a few deep breaths.
Against the barn and right next to Andy’s left boot was a small mound of dirt with an indentation in the middle. It hadn’t been covered by snow unlike the rest of the ground, which should have tipped off any person who stumbled across it. It seemed out of place and not natural. On top of the small indentation was a golden ring, sitting there, waiting….and Andy never looked directly down at his feet.
Andy gathered his composure after one last deep breath and stood up tall. Standing up, he lifted his left boot and brought it down upon the small mound of dirt never feeling the ring under it. For a split second he felt a strange sensation and he could hear the lights in the barn suddenly flicker twice and then go off completely.
“Hey what’s with the lights?” Truman asked inside.
Andy walked away from the barn, trying to find anything interesting as the lights suddenly came back on.
“Old wiring, Harry,” Hawk told him and they continued to study the body as Doctor Hayward walked up to the barn and said, “Dammit, gentleman, what’s going on in here? It smells horrible!”
“Got a body, doc!” Truman called back as Andy stumbled around outside.
Back at where he was standing a few seconds before, his boot imprint now stood where the small mound of dirt had been, completely ruined. And the ring, it was gone.
One week later, Truman filed the murder case away. Actually, it wasn’t a murder case, according to the Twin Peaks Sheriff Station. After an autopsy of the body, Doctor Hayward had decided that death was caused by exposure during the winter months and then the woman’s body was eaten by animals in the forest and had been dead since at least the first snow in November. The woman’s identity was never discovered and there were no missing person reports that fit her description. It was believed that animals dragged the body into the barn to get out of the rainy weather the night before. The final case was filed away as closed.