The tragic story of Lue Cree Overcash Westmoreland is woven into the fabric of the Amity Hill Community as much as any cornfield, church hymn, or long-abandoned cotton gin. If you grew up in this community in the last half-century around these parts, you had heard about Lue Cree.
On Nov. 28, 1936, Lue Cree Overcash married her childhood sweetheart, Herman Westmoreland. Both graduated from Troutman High School in North Carolina in 1933, with big plans, as they began a new chapter of their lives together. Despite the economic hardships of the Great Depression, Lue Cree and Herman faced the future with optimism, as most newlyweds do.
Lue Cree and Herman first made their home at a flat in Mooresville, and Herman got a job at a local rayon mill. However, Herman’s father, Harlee Westmoreland, a widower, asked the couple to come live with him and Herman’s three younger siblings in his farmhouse on what is now known as Weathers Creek Road. They agreed. Since country roads were in such poor condition at the time (especially in bad weather), Herman lived with an uncle in Mooresville during the week so he could work, and saw his wife on weekends.
On Jan. 20, 1937, Harlee and his son Clyde arose at 6:30 a.m. to build fires and attend to farm chores. When they got back to the house, Harlee noticed that Lue Cree had not come down for breakfast and sent his daughter, Marie, to awaken her. Marie came back downstairs with the news that Lue Cree was not in her room and that her bed had not been slept in.
Immediately, Harlee and Marie walked in pouring down rain to the home of Lue Cree’s parents (James and Lena Overcash) on what is now known as Hemlock Road in the Amity Hill Community. After finding out that Lue Cree was not there, Harlee told Mr. and Mrs. Overcash that their daughter had evidently left in the night. He assured them that he would get word to her husband, Herman, and that hopefully he would find her.
Word spread around the community about the missing young woman, and neighbors formed a search party. One of those who helped look for her was my father, John Myers Brown. Iredell County Sheriff John White Moore and several of his deputies also combed through the muddy landscape near the Westmoreland home, desperate for any sign of Lue Cree.
Nightfall descended on the winter countryside. Clyde Westmoreland drew water from the well to feed the family’s livestock. All of a sudden, their mule went berserk, sniffing the water and backing away, with its whole body quivering uncontrollably. The water was tainted.
Iredell deputies obtained a searchlight from the Statesville Fire Department, but it showed nothing but the water at the bottom of the 65-foot well. However, a pair of iron steelyards kept hitting something. A young black man named Isadore Heaggans was lowered into the well, and his hand touched a bare foot. A rope was tied around both feet, and the body was drawn to the surface. My father was one of those who watched as the body of Lue Cree Overcash Westmoreland was brought from the well. She was 20 years old at the time of her death.
Lue Cree’s body was taken to a funeral home, where Iredell County Coroner N.D. Tomlin conducted an autopsy. The results showed that Lue Cree did not die from drowning, as there was no water in her lungs. There was, however, a massive fracture in the base of her skull in the shape of a triangle. A fractured left ankle was the only other injury.
Lue Cree was dressed in silk pajamas. A shoe and stocking were on the right foot, but the left foot and leg were bare. The stocking was later found in the bedroom, and the missing shoe was fished from the bottom of the well.
Several days later, an enormous crowd gathered at Bethesda Presbyterian Church for Lue Cree’s funeral. She was laid to rest in the church cemetery.
So now law enforcement was left to try to untangle the mystery of who murdered the young bride. The Westmoreland house and farm were searched for a weapon. The only object found was a broken shovel handle, with dark stains, under a meat house. It was sent to an FBI laboratory, which determined the stains were simply rust. Members of the household, Harlee and his children, vowed that they had not heard any disturbing sounds that night, which would indicate an intruder.
To this day, the death of Lue Cree is one of the biggest mysteries in North Carolina’s history. The question that will always be asked: Was Lue Cree suicidal and decided to jump headfirst into the well that night? Or was she a victim of foul play?
Her case remains unsolved.
Written By Alice Brown St. Clair
(The information in this article comes from stories related to me from my late parents and newspaper and magazine articles published at the time of the incident.)