Every Halloween an estimated 41 million kids go trick-or-treating on Halloween, collecting an estimated 600 million pounds of candy. If you were (or are) a lucky kid, your parents wouldn’t allow you to eat your candy until they had gone through it and verified none of it had been tampered with. Most kids find this act frustrating, ridiculous, and a waste of time. But there was once a time when checking the candy was crucial. Unfortunately, Ronald O’Bryan checked the candy before giving it to trick-or-treaters.
Ronald O’Bryan lived with his wife Daynene and their two children, Timothy (8), and Elizabeth (5) in Deer Park, Texas. Ronald was an optician at a Texas State Optical in Sharpstown, Houston and was also the deacon at the Second Baptist Church, where he was in charge of the local bus program as well as being a member of the choir.
On October 31, 1974, the O’Bryan children waited patiently for their father to return home to take them trick-or-treating. They all went out, along with their neighbor and his two children. They reached a house, but no one answered the door. The children all grew impatient of waiting, and took off, running ahead of the parents. Ronald stayed behind to wait a little longer, and when he finally caught up with the group, he had five 21-inch Pixy Stix, which he claimed to have gotten from the home that had not answered their door. He gave each of his neighbors children a Pixy Stix, as well as his own. The final Pixy Stix went to a 10 year old boy he saw and recognized from his church.
As all kids do, Timothy asked to eat some of the candy he had collected. His father gave him the Pixy Stix. Timothy had difficulty getting the powder out of the straw, so Ronald helped him loosen it up. Timothy complained that it tasted bitter, but his father didn’t think anything of it and gave him some kool-aid to wash it down.
Almost immediately, Timothy began to complain that his stomach hurt. He ran to the bathroom and began vomiting and convulsing. Ronald went to the bathroom and held his son while he was vomiting, until he went limp in his arms.
Timothy was rushed to the hospital, but he died on the way – less than an hour after consuming the candy.
Mike Hinton was working the police intake that night when he got the call about Timothy. He didn’t hesitate, he immediately picked up the phone and called Dr. Joseph A. Jachimczyk, the chief medical examiner of nearby Harris County. He explained the situation, to the doctor, and the doctor asked what the boy’s breath smelled like. A call to the morgue revealed that there was a scent of almonds coming from his mouth. “It’s cyanide,” said Dr. Jachimczyk.
Fear ran through the community, with parents collecting their children’s candy and returning it to the police. An autopsy was conducted where it was confirmed that Timothy had died from a lethal dose of potassium cyanide.
As he had only consumed the Pixy Stix, police sprung to action, collecting the remaining candy that Ronald had passed out. Four of the five were collected without problem, none of the other children had consumed the candy. The fifth, however was more of a challenge. The parents of the boy Ronald had given the fifth Pixy Stix to, became hysterical when they could not find the candy. They rushed upstairs to find their son, fast asleep, holding onto the Pixy Stix. It was still sealed shut; he wasn’t strong enough to undo the staples.
All five Pixy Stix were opened where it was discovered that the top two inches were filled with cyanide powder and had been re-sealed with a staple. The pathologist who tested the Pixy Stix found that there was enough cyanide in the one Timothy consumed, to kill two adults. The remaining four contained dosages that could kill three to four adults.
When questioned, Ronald told police that he couldn’t remember which house he had gotten the Pixy Stix from, but this only made police suspicious. His neighbor confirmed that they had only gone to homes on two streets because it was raining, and none of the residents on those streets had given out Pixy Stix.
Ronald walked the streets with police three times before finally leading them to the house that had not answered the door. Ronald claimed he had revisited the home before catching up to the group. He claimed the homeowner did not turn on the lights, but cracked the door just enough to reach out and hand him the Pixy Stix. He had therefore only seen the man’s arm, which he described as “hairy.”
That home was owned by a man named Courtney Melvin. Mr. Melvin was an air traffic controller at Hobby Airport, and did not return home from work until 11pm on Halloween night. His alibi checked out and Mr. Melvin was ruled out as a suspect.
Ronald was looking more suspect, and police began to look into him. They discovered that Ronald O’Bryan was over $100,000 in debt, and had a history of being unable to hold a job. He had held 21 jobs over the past 10 years, and was on the brink of being fired from the Texas State Optical, as he was suspected of theft. His car was about to be repossessed, and the family home was being foreclosed on.
That could all be considered circumstantial, however police then found that Ronald had taken out insurance policies on his children, just months before Timothy’s death. January 1974, he had taken out $10,000 life insurance policies on both children. Then in September he had taken out additional $20,000 policies on both children. Just days before Halloween, Ronald took out another $20,000 policy on each child. The policies amounted to $60,000, and Mrs. O’Bryan claimed she knew nothing about any of the policies.
Phone records showed that the morning of November 1, 1974, the morning after his son, Timothy, had died, Ronald called the insurance company to inquire about collecting on the policies he had taken out on his son.
A warrant was issued for the search of the O’Bryan house where a pair of scissors was recovered, with plastic residue attached, which was similar to that found on the cyanide-laced candy. Ronald was arrested and taken in for questioning, where he maintained his innocence.
Ronald was attending community college, and had asked his professor things like, “What is more lethal: cyanide or another type of poison?” Then another witness came forward, telling police about a man who had gone into their chemical supply store in Houston. He wanted to buy cyanide, but left when he was told the smallest amount he could buy was 5 pounds. Although the witness couldn’t identify Ronald directly, they did remember that he was wearing a beige or blue smock, like a doctor. That matched Ronald’s uniform for his work as an optician.
Although it could never be confirmed when or where Ronald bought the poison, he was arrested for the murder of his son, Timothy, on November 5, 1974. He was indicted on one count of capital murder, and four counts of attempted murder. Ronald entered a plea of not guilty to all five counts.
The trial began on May 5, 1975, and it came out that Ronald had, what friends and coworkers considered, an “unusual interest” in cyanide. He spoke about it frequently, including bits of information such as how long it would take to kill a person.
A chemist acquainted with Ronald came forward and testified that in the summer of 1973, Ronald had asked him about cyanide, and how much would be fatal. A chemical supply salesman also testified that Ronald had asked him how to purchase cyanide.
Then Ronald’s sister-in-law and brother-in-law both testified against him, claiming that on the day of Timothy’s funeral, all he could talk about was using the insurance money he would get from Timothy’s death, to take a long vacation and all the things he wanted to buy with it.
The case gained national attention, and it was clear that Ronald O’Bryan relished every moment of it. He was dubbed “The Candyman,” and on June 3, 1975, he was found guilty of capital murder and four counts of attempted murder. He was sentenced to death by electric chair, and shortly afterward his wife filed for divorce.
Ronald was imprisoned in the Huntsville Unit in Huntsville, Texas. Other death row inmates despised him for killing a child, and he had no friends. Inmates petitioned to hold an organized demonstration on Ronald’s execution date, to express their hatred of him.
His first execution date was set for August 8, 1980, but he was granted a stay of execution. A second date was set for May 25, 1982, and, again, the date was postponed. Then, Judge Michael McSpadden scheduled a third date of execution, October 31, 1982, where he offered to personally drive Ronald to the death chamber. But the Supreme Court delayed the date yet again, giving Ronald a chance to pursue an appeal to seek a new trial.
A fourth date was scheduled for March 31, 1984. By this time, the electric chair was ruled cruel and unusual punishment, so Ronald was set to be executed by lethal injection. His lawyer attempted to gain another stay of execution, arguing that lethal injection was cruel and unusual punishment, but the request was rejected.
Shortly after midnight, on March 31, 1984, Ronald O’Bryan was taken to the death chamber. In his final statement, he maintained his innocence, and stated that he felt the death penalty was wrong. His final words, “… I forgive all – and I do mean all – those who have been involved in my death. God bless you all, and may God’s blessings be always yours.”
A crowd of 300 demonstrators gathered outside the prison, cheering, while some yelled, “Trick or treat!” Another group was gathered, protesting the death penalty, and they were showered with candy by those cheering for the death of Ronald O’Bryan.
Ronald O’Bryan was pronounced dead at 12:48am. He is now buried in Forest Park East Cemetery in Webster, Texas, while his son, Timothy, is buried in Forest Park Lawndale Cemetery in Houston.
Next time you go trick-or-treating, remember Timothy O’Bryan, and check all the candy that comes home. You never know what could happen.
Other things besides tainted candy can happen on Halloween, as Lisa Ann French discovered when she went Trick-or-Treating in 1973.