Mind of a Serial Killer - Joe Ball: The Alligator Man of Elmendorf Pt.1

Episode Date: June 8, 2026

In 1930s Elmendorf, Texas, tavern owner Joe Ball built a reputation for wild alligator feedings and a revolving door of female employees who kept disappearing without explanation. Reportedly a descendant of notorious slaveholders, Ball graduated from bootlegger to killer, and when the women in his life became inconvenient, they simply vanished.If you’re new here, don’t forget to follow Serial Killers & Murderous Minds to never miss a case! Want all 2 parts of every case all at once? Join Crime House+ and get both parts of each case dropped together on Monday ad-free. Join at crimehouseplus.com or if you’re listening on Apple Podcasts, tap “Try Free” at the top of this show’s page. Serial Killers & Murderous Minds is a Crime House Original Podcast, powered by PAVE Studios.🎧 Need More to Binge? Listen to other Crime House Originals Clues, Crimes Of…, Murder True Crime Stories, Crime House 24/7, and more wherever you get your podcasts!Follow me on SocialInstagram: @CrimehouseTikTok: @CrimehouseFacebook: @crimehousestudiosYouTube: @crimehousestudios

Hi listeners, it's Vanessa. Before we get into today's episode, I want to tell you about another show I think you'll love. Hidden History with Dr. Harini Bot. Every Monday, Dr. Bot goes where history gets mysterious. Vanished civilizations, doomsday prophecies, paranormal phenomena, and events that science still can't fully explain. Dr. Bot treats these moments like open case files, not myths, not superstition, just incomplete explanations, waiting for a closer look. Hidden History drops every Monday. Follow now on Apple Podcasts, Spotify, or wherever you listen, so you never miss a mystery.

This is Crime House. We've all known someone who likes to put on a show, whether it's the high school class clown or even an influencer who makes a living performing stunts. Some people are just drawn to outrageous behavior, and they thrive on the attention. Usually that kind of behavior is relatively harmless, but sometimes it can be a sign that something troubling lurks beneath the surface. And in 1930s, Texas, in the case of a man named Joe Ball, his antics were just a precursor for extreme violence. And when women linked to Joe started to go missing, people realized he may have found the perfect way to cover up his gruesome crimes with his pet alligators.

The human mind is powerful. It shapes how we think, feel, love, and hate. But sometimes it drives people to commit the unthinkable. This is serial killers and murderous minds, a crimehouse original. I'm Vanessa Richardson. And I'm forensic psychologist Dr. Tristan Engels. Every Monday and Thursday, we uncover the darkest minds in history, analyzing what makes a killer.

Crime House is made possible by you. follow serial killers and murderous minds, and subscribe to Crimehouse Plus on Apple Podcasts for ad-free early access to each two-part series. Before we get started, be advised that this episode contains discussion of animal abuse, murder, and dismemberment, so please listen with care. Today, we start our deep dive on Joe Ball, also known as the Alligator Man of Elmendorf. Joe was a Depression-era tavern owner who put on horrific live events involving wild alligators. But there was more to Joe's fearful reputation. He was also

known for his blatant womanizing. And when multiple women connected to Joe mysteriously vanished, people started to talk. Eventually, the rumors got back to the police, and Joe's story came to a shocking end. As Vanessa goes through this story, I'll be talking about things like why some violent offenders show early signs of thrill-seeking, how impulsive anger can lead to more violent acts down the line, and why some criminals make casual confessions to the people they know. And as always, we'll be asking the question, what makes a killer? Joe Ball was born into a completely carefree life, even as those around him suffered. By 1896, the year Joe was born, his family was like royalty in the small town of Elmendorf, Texas,

just outside San Antonio. And his family's power wasn't necessarily a good thing. Joe was reportedly descended from John Hart Crenshaw, who made his living by kidnapping and selling free black citizens into slavery in Illinois. And after the Civil War, the Ball family continued that legacy when Joe's father, Frank, made a fortune from processing cotton.

At some point, Frank met a woman named Elizabeth and they had eight children together. Joe was there second. Over the years, the Ball family became a fixture in Elmendorf. One of Joe's brothers became a school board trustee, while another became mayor. But Joe would end up making the biggest mark of all, and not in a good way. Most people who grow up with money, status, or family influence do not become violent offenders. But privilege can shape a person's psychology in negative ways when it's paired with entitlement, lack of accountability, and in this case, a family or a community system that normalizes the exploitation of other people.

And in Joe's case, he came from a family where exploitation was a part of the family business. He's been taught from a young age that it's acceptable, even lucrative, to treat people as commodities or tools for profit. That can teach implicitly that some people matter more than others, that he matters more than them, and that other people's suffering is not necessarily something that he's responsible for. And we've covered other cases where privilege factored into an offender's criminal mentality. And one that comes to mind is Helmut Schmidt. If you haven't listened to those episodes, you definitely should. So in general, what's known about the psychology associated with people who owned or traded enslaved people?

And do experts tend to associate enslavers with sociopathy, psychopathy or anything else like that? And if so, could those mental health traits be passed down through generations? In other words, could Joe have inherited these traits? So the uncomfortable and perhaps disturbing truth of those questions is that most enslavers were actually not clinically diagnosable. And by that, I mean, the majority of the people who owned or traded enslaved people were operating within a fully normalized social system. And that was one that was legally sanctioned and incentivized back then. So as a result, most experts who have researched this, like David Livingstone Smith in Orlando Patterson, for example, view it as systematic dehumanization. And that's the process by which an entire

society collectively strips a group of people of their humanity, making exploitation not only an acceptable thing, but an expected one. And you don't need a personality disorder to participate in something society tells you is normal. That said, though, There are certainly individuals within that history who do absolutely fit profiles that we'd recognize clinically today, people who demonstrated sadistic enjoyment of that cruelty, complete absence of empathy or predatory patterns. There were owners who went beyond what was necessary. They abused and assaulted their enslaved people.

Those individuals likely did carry traits consistent with psychopathy or sadism. It's a comforting thought that only monsters do. monstrous things, but the reality is that ordinary psychology shaped by an environment that normalizes harm can produce extraordinary levels of harm. It's the belief systems like those regarding race or class that are what regularly gets passed down through generations. Well, unlike his family members, Joe wasn't politically inclined, but he was talented with guns. And in 1917, when Joe was 21 years old, he joined the army and shipped off to Europe to fight in World War I. We don't know much about what Joe experienced overseas,

but he received an honorable discharge in 1919. When he returned home to Elmendorf, he decided to follow in his father's footsteps and become a businessman, though Joe's line of work wasn't exactly above board. It wasn't long after that prohibition went into effect. All of a sudden, alcohol was illegal, but that didn't stop people from drinking in secret. Joe saw this as a business opportunity.

He figured if people couldn't get their alcohol from a store, they could get it from him. He soon became a regular site around town, selling people whiskey out of a barrel in his car. What Joe began doing here is bootlegging, which is manufacturing, distributing, and selling illegal goods, in this case, alcohol. And I find that interesting for a few reasons. Firstly, it's another example of exploiting others or the system out of opportunity. And the reality is, much like the business of enslaving people, it was another very common business practice. So it was normalized as well. But most people who engaged in bootlegging during prohibition did so because they needed to for survival. It was the beginning of the Great Depression and

many people lost employment. Which leads me to my second point. He wasn't doing this because he needed to in order to survive. That suggests he likely views rules as obstacles rather than boundaries, which goes back to what we discussed previously about his earlier years and how this may have started to normalize the belief that what he needs and what he wants matters more than anyone or anything else. There's also an entitlement component here worth noting. Research on rule breaking behavior, which this is, consistently shows that people who grow up with systemic privilege like he did are more likely to perceive laws as applying to everyone else. We actually see this documented in studies on white-collar crime.

People who have never been told, no, tend to get very creative about justifying why no doesn't apply to them. Well, whatever drew Joe to bootlegging, he must have done it pretty well because eventually he brought on an assistant. In the mid-1920s, Joe, who was white, hired a young black man named Clifton Wheeler, to help him with odd jobs and manual labor. And by all accounts, Joe was a horrible boss. He was cruel and abusive.

He even threatened Clifton at gunpoint more than once. But this was right around the time of the Great Depression. Clifton probably needed the job. And as a black man living in a segregated society teeming with racial violence, he also could have endangered himself if he tried to stand up to Joe. And Joe likely knew this. I mean, he had to have. So this would be another example of,

exploitation. Definitely. And this was a problem throughout the country and certainly prevalent in Texas where black people weren't even allowed to vote in statewide democratic primaries until 1944. And between 1888 and 1942, there were at least 468 lynchings in Texas. So Clifton put up with Joe's horrifying antics and he kept working for Joe even when prohibition ended in 1933. Now that alcohol, was legal again, 37-year-old Joe had to decide what was next for him. He'd built up quite the reputation over the years, so he decided to stay in the business of alcohol. Not only that, but he was looking for a way to bring some excitement to his small community. So he opened up a tavern

at the edge of town and called it the sociable inn. That was a period of collective trauma and hardship, and during times like that, people tend to turn to escapism for coping. When people feel a loss of control over their circumstances, whether that's an economic collapse like that, job loss, political instability, or a pandemic, they instinctively seek out experiences that restore any kind of sense of pleasure, agency, or normalcy. And it's a completely human response to overwhelming stress. We actually saw this pattern repeat itself after World War II with the increase in jazz clubs, dance halls, and entertainment culture overall. And more recently, streaming services, reported record numbers during the COVID-19 pandemic.

We need entertainment or joy when things feel out of control or unmanageable. And a tavern would absolutely be something people would gravitate toward for that during this time, especially right after the re-legalization of alcohol. People can now freely enjoy their spirit of choice socially amongst friends again during a time of upheaval. That's powerful. And it makes me think about when restrictions ended during the COVID-19 pandemic. and everyone was able to go out again, getting your hair done for the first time, being able to have brunch with friends again. This would be similar to that.

In general, what are the risks involved when people, you know, drown their sorrows, so to speak, whether or not it actually involves heavy alcohol consumption? Can this mindset lead to people ignoring or missing other problems and red flags in their community? This is such an important question because while I outlined, you know, how escapism is a coping skill that we all tend to gravitate. toward using substances to do that can be risky. When people are in survival mode, the brain essentially prioritizes immediate relief. Chronic escapism, whether it's done through alcohol, gambling, overworking, or even just socializing, that can disregulate the brain's stress response systems over time. What starts out as something that's meant to be for relief can turn into avoidance. And avoidance has a way of making problems bigger.

not smaller, and also addictions can form. And now let's talk about the community part of your question. There's something called the bystander effect, which is the tendency for individuals within a group to assume that someone else is handling a problem. Now multiply that by an entire community that is collectively checked out because of shared trauma. All are collectively seeking relief, and you create the conditions where genuinely dangerous things that are happening in your community can go unnoticed for a very long time. It seems like Joe wanted to keep people distracted from the harsh realities. To do that, he needed the sociable to be more than just a bar, but a destination. And, just like Joe, the sociable was rough around the edges.

In the main room there was a bar, a piano, and a side room with some tables and chairs for people to play cards. There was also space for him to host occasional cockfights as well. Then there were two bedrooms in the back. It seems like Joe slept in one of them, and the other was for guests, or even employees, and there were plenty of people for him to hire. At the time, it was common to travel the country looking for work. Lots of folks passed through Elmendorf since there was a train station there. Many of them were young, unmarried women. Joe hired them as cocktail waitresses, and what were known as dance hall girls, which were basically women that you could pay to

dance with. Socially, the practice of hiring women for entertainment in that time was actually not unusual. Their job was not just to serve drinks. It was, in many settings, expected to create an atmosphere for men. They were there to be charming, attractive, attentive, even flirtatious, and available in a way that kept male customers spending money. So the business model depended, at least on part, on women's emotional labor and their physical presence. Their personalities, their looks, their friendliness, their smiles, and sometimes their sexuality became part of what was being sold. And that creates a problematic power dynamic

because the man who owns the business controls the job, the wages, the housing in some cases, and the social environment. And the women working there may have had agency, but some may have chosen that work because it paid better than other options that were available to them. And the options were very limited. Their choices were still happening.

inside a time and a culture where women's economic opportunities were limited and where men's access to women's time, attention, and their bodies was treated as expected or entertainment. It's another normalized, harmful, and troubling practice of that time. And it shows us a world where women's value in certain public spaces was often tied to how useful or pleasing or available they were to the men in power. Or where enslaved people's value is tied to how useful they were to their owners. The fact that these were so normalized made exploitation harder to recognize because it was disguised as business as usual and it was accepted by society. Joe may have only seen dollar signs when he looked at his female employees,

especially since they brought in a ton of customers. But a lot of the waitresses didn't stay very long, not because they quit or moved on to other jobs, but because they vanished with no explanation. At first, people didn't think much of it. Elmendorf was the kind of town where people traveled to and from quite a bit. Women who worked for Joe didn't tend to stay in town long anyway, so no one asked questions. Joe certainly didn't stress about it. If anything, he seemed to believe that all the turnover kept things fresh for the male customers. At some point, though, he wanted to find something more exciting to drum up business, something risky, something dangerous. Soon, Joe would do something shocking at the tavern, and it would cause people

to question whether he was behind the mysterious disappearances. In 1933, 37-year-old Joe Ball opened a tavern called the Sociable Inn in his hometown of Elmendorf, Texas. Right away, the locals flocked to the sociable for beer, gambling, and dancing, which they felt were much-needed distractions from their Depression-era hardship. He used a rotating cast of female waitresses and dancers to attract male customers, and it worked. Business was good. However, despite how much the customers enjoyed these women, when many of them disappeared without a trace, no one batted an eye. Elmendorf was a transient town, so even though this seemed to happen dozens of times, people figured the women had simply packed their bags and moved on to the next place.

What's happening here are a few possible things. The first being something called cognitive ease, which is a well-documented tendency for people to prefer explanations that are familiar, simple, and consistent with their existing experiences. Like you outlined, Elmendorf is a transient town. People were frequently passing through, stopping to make some money, maybe staying temporarily. The tavern is an establishment that could reasonably offer temporary employment to transient workers. Joe is hiring women to work as cocktail servers or dance hall girls. That's enough for them to do temporarily to make enough money to move them along to their next destination. Which brings me to the second thing, which is, again, normalization.

When a population is already accustomed to this, the disappearance of someone isn't necessarily going to signal alarm right away. But there could be a diffusion of responsibility occurring also. The same mechanism we discussed earlier with regard to communities and escapeism is still continuing. They're there drinking, gambling, and otherwise distracted, trying to escape from their Depression-era hardships. People are likely assuming that someone else is probably noticing this and is handling it if there is something to handle, and whoever that is is likely someone who worked there. These are just some explanations for why no one seems concerned at this time. Part of the reason Joe's customers weren't concerned might be because he was so good at keeping them distracted, no matter the cost.

One hot afternoon, Joe decided it was time to spruce things up around the tavern. To do that, he set out to the marshy outskirts of Elmendorf. Once he was there, he stood at the edge of the water. In one hand, he held a long rod with a looped cable attached to the end, and in the other, he held his pistol. He slowly scanned the wetland, keeping a close-off. on the muddy banks, but time ticked away and he didn't spot what he was looking for. He knew he wouldn't find it just standing there. Joe got into the water and started wading through.

He took slow, measured steps, careful not to splash or make too much noise. One wrong move and he would be the hunted, not the hunter. Once he was knee-deep, he ventured further into the marsh. He knew his prey was hiding somewhere in the grassy corridors. The sun beat down, making it harder for Joe to see ahead. His heart raced with adrenaline as he moved his free hand closer to his gun, in case his target spotted him first. Soon he rounded a bend, nearly waist deep in the water now, and then finally he saw his mark, a massive American alligator. It was completely oblivious to Joe's presence as he slowed his pace and lifted the rod over his head. Joe held his breath as he inched closer. Then he threw the loop around the gator's neck. Once he had it ensnared, he dragged it

back to his truck, wrestled it into the bed, and brought it back to the tavern. There, he tossed it into a concrete pool on the property, which was surrounded by a 10-foot wire fence. Eventually, Joe captured five gators in total and kept all of them there. And for Joe, that's when the real fun began. Saturday night, he told his customers it was time for everyone to go outside. People were confused, especially when they noticed the large sack in his hand. Then when they saw that the pool was filled with gators, they were stunned. A hush fell over the crowd as Joe reached into the sack and pulled out a live possum. He lifted it up for everyone to see, then threw it into the pool. The gators gnashed and roared, and the crowd went wild.

Joe started doing this every Saturday night, letting customers watch as he fed the gators live animals, possums, raccoons, even stray cats and dogs. No one had seen anything like it before, and they loved it. This isn't just a strange business decision for entertainment. This is Joe publicly displaying cruelty and watching how people respond. It's well established in the research that animal cruelty is one of the most. most consistent early behavioral indicators that we look for when building a psychological profile of someone capable of serious violence toward people. That said, it's not a guarantee, especially when you consider that many young children do exhibit some cruelty toward animals

out of curiosity. But when it's paired with other concerning behavioral patterns or traits, the concern is that animal cruelty is a form of rehearsal or a way of experiencing power over a living thing by watching it suffer and feeling nothing or worse, feeling enjoyment. And what makes Joe's version of this particularly interesting is that he didn't do it privately, like we would typically see in those early behaviors. And we also don't know if he had these early behaviors. But here, he made it into a communal show. And then he turned other people's enjoyment of cruelty into a business. But that's, in a lot of ways, mirroring what his family had been doing his entire life with enslaved men and women. There's also something worth saying about the crowd

itself. Most of those people weren't sadists, but there is something deeply human about the pull of some spectacles, even if it is disturbing. I mean, the Romans built entire arenas around something like this. And given that he has a pattern of antisocial behavior, first with bootlegging, then seeking out transient women for employment that have gone missing. And now this, this would be an escalation. While the shows became so popular, Joe earned the nickname the Alligator Man. As you'd expect, the gator feedings attracted a pretty tough crowd.

According to some sources, the events were described as a, quote, drunken orgy. And Joe wasn't exactly doing anything to keep things civil, which meant someone else had to maintain order. That person was a woman named Minnie Gottart, better known as Big Minnie. She started working at the tavern around 1934.

She was a hard worker and she kept drunk customers in line. Joe was impressed with her. Eventually, their relationship evolved. It wasn't anything serious, more like a fling. Although it seems like Minnie did live in one of the rooms at the tavern. And Joe liked her enough to take her side when she got into arguments with other employees. Favoritism in the workplace has been around for as long as humans have had organized labor. And it's driven by psychological needs for control and security and unconscious bias.

I think we've all encountered it in one way or another. But it affects trust. When you observe that one employee is getting special treatment, it sends a message about equality and that affects morale. That's when resentment builds and in-group, out-group biases can form. There's also the risk of power imbalance, which is where it can get ethically complicated very quickly. When the authority shows preferential treatment to an employee, particularly one they're also romantically or personally involved with, that employee's position becomes contingent on maintaining

that relationship, which means their ability to say no, to set boundaries, or to leave becomes compromised, whether they realize it at first or not. That's control. And Big Minnie was living on site, romantically involved with Joe, who was her boss, and financially dependent on him, and we know he likes to have control over people around him, starting from a young age. How can favoritism add to other issues that might arise in a work setting, especially a work setting where people are drinking heavily? That's such a good question, because it definitely adds a significant layer to this. His employees were having to manage a very chaotic workplace by design. He wanted everyone to remain distracted from what

he was really doing, like you mentioned, and it was working. His customers were drinking heavily, and the events you described were drunken orgy, and he had a literal alligator show, which would never be allowed today. His employees were already trying to maintain order and professionalism among intoxicated, rowdy customers in a setting that had no real safeguards to begin with. Then there's the favoritism. He was taking big, many side and arguments, and he was involved with her. So the natural response for his other employees who are seeing this is likely to disengage, because why take the risk of speaking up about something unsafe or uncomfortable when the person in charge is the same person making those decisions or creating the instability or could retaliate in potentially

violent ways if you do speak up? There's no incentive for advocating for yourself in a situation like this, at least not safely, and especially when there's no objective oversight. And And in post-depression era, it's not that easy to just quit either. At the sociable, a waitress named Stella seemed to get the bad side of Joe's favoritism because she and Minnie did not get along, which meant Joe didn't like Stella either. We don't know exactly why the two women didn't get along, but we do know that one day Stella complained about Minnie to Joe, and then no one saw Stella again. It's not clear what happened to her.

Like other women before, people probably thought Stella had just moved on to the next town. That meant Joe was to keep doing what he was doing. And once he became romantically involved with an employee, he seemed to view it as a major perk of his job. Unfortunately for the women who worked for him, that meant they were in grave danger. In the mid-1930s, Joe Ball started dating one of his employees at the Sociable Inn, a woman named Minnie Gotthard. Minnie was invaluable to the business. She kept customers in line during Joe's alcohol-fueled gator-feeding frenzies. So Joe tended to take her side when she had disputes with other workers,

including a woman named Stella, who disappeared shortly after Minnie complained about her to Joe. Unfortunately for Minnie, it wasn't long before another young woman took her place. When Dolores Goodwin, who went by the nickname Buddy, started working at the sociable, Joe was instantly attracted to her. And soon, he dropped Minnie and started dating buddy instead. What we're hearing here is a pattern that goes well beyond poor boundary management. And let's start with the structural reality. Joe owned the establishment.

He controlled who got hired, who got favored, who got protected, and who disappeared apparently. So when your boss controls your income, your housing, and your social standing within a community, that is his workplace, the power differential makes it nearly impossible to freely consent to any relationship that he has with you. It's coercive. The entitlement piece is real here, too. Dating one employee and then simply trading for another when he loses interest suggests people are resources to be used and replaced rather than individuals with their own needs and dignity. Though we've seen that with Joe's behavior from the very beginning, but let's circle back to that detail about Stella. Minnie complained about her and she disappeared.

So that suggests that Minnie was, knowingly or not, possibly helping Joe identify who is asking questions, who is complaining, and who may or may not be expendable to him. And then Joe replaced Minnie too. So people are simply valuable as long as they're useful or functional, and he also sees them as transactional as well. Apparently, this relationship was more serious than what Joe had with Minnie, and it was also more volatile. For starters, Buddy was 15 years younger than Joe. In 1937, she was 26 and he was 41. And on top of the age gap, Joe was Buddy's boss. That complicated things, especially when Joe showed his dark side. One night in 1937, Joe and Buddy got into a huge fight that resulted in Joe throwing a bottle at her. It hit Buddy square in the face, leaving her with a massive scar from her eye all the way down to

her neck. This is another escalation. Joe has been slowly testing the public with displays of cruelty, first with the alligators, and possibly even with the treatment of his employees, and now this. Only this is overt physical violence, and it's been perpetrated against someone that he claims to care about. But, and I mean this as sensitively as possible, this is not surprised. This is not surprised. given what we know of him. Intimate partner violence rarely appears out of nowhere. It develops along a trajectory in the earlier behavioral indicators that we've already identified in Joe, which are his need for control, the willingness to exploit vulnerability and his comfort with cruelty are the same indicators that researchers consistently flag as precursors to physical violence and intimate

relationships. Not the only ones, but some of them. The age gap and power dynamic that you just highlighted matter enormously here too. Buddy was an adult, but she was still considerably younger and she was financially dependent on Joe and working for him. It's a similar combination of vulnerability with Big Mini. It makes it extraordinarily difficult to leave even after you've been physically and mentally scarred in ways that you will carry for the rest of your life. And research tells us, on average, a person in an abusive relationship will attempt to leave seven times before leaving for good. And that's with modern resources and awareness. Buddy had neither of those then. We've mentioned this before, that in the 1930s, domestic violence was more widely accepted than it is

today. So how might the normalization of violence have factored into all the concerning behavior we've addressed here? Is it possible that people just didn't question a guy like Joe? Or he wasn't only tough, but he came from a prominent family. Yeah, I mean, back then, there were no domestic violence hotlines. There was no mandatory reporting requirements, no legal or clinical definition of what an abusive relationship is, and no legal protections for victims at all. A man hitting his partner was considered a private matter then. And to your point, yes, Joe wasn't just any man. He reportedly came from one of the most prominent families in Elmendorf. His brother was the mayor. That makes people even less likely to report, because firstly, police were unlikely to do anything to begin.

with for the reasons that I just outlined, but even more unlikely when the mayor, his brother, was the authority over the police anyway. They were powerful, and that alone can dissuade people from reporting. But also, the halo effect is relevant here too. The halo effect is the tendency to assume that someone who appears successful, respected, or prominent must also be trustworthy and good in every other area of their life. Joe's family name and community standing could have created an assumption of legitimacy that made people far less likely to question him, even when the evidence in front of them suggested that they absolutely should. Despite this incident, Joe and Buddy stayed together.

At the same time, Joe's bar manager slash ex-girlfriend, Minnie, resented their relationship, especially since she was still living at the tavern, which meant she had to be around them all the time. She told whoever would listen how much she hated seeing them together. Eventually, this got under Joe's skin. Minnie was his employee. He didn't want her chiming in on his personal life, so one day he found a solution to the problem. One hot, sunny afternoon,

Joe told his assistant Clifton and Minnie they weren't opening up the tavern that day. Instead, they went for a ride down to the coast. He asked Clifton to pack some whiskey and beer and load up Joe's Ford Model A. Then the three of them drove about two hours to Ingleside, on the Corpus Christi Bay. When they got there, Joe parked at a secluded beach.

They hopped out of the car, and Joe poured drinks for everyone. The liquor went down easy and warmed them up before they stepped into the cool, blue water. They swam for a while, until Joe said they should relax on the sand. Clifton and Minnie followed Joe out of the ocean. He grabbed some towels from the nearby car and tossed one to each of them. They found a nice spot in the sun, spread out their towels, and cracked open some cold beers. Joe rummaged around in the car for another moment. Then he tucked something into the back of his swim trunks before joining Clifton and Minnie.

They basked in the sun together for a while. Eventually, Minnie stood up to stretch her legs. While she walked around, Joe told Clifton to get more whiskey from the car. At that point, Joe stood and walked over to Minnie. He saw a small bird hopping around in a tree and pointed it out to her. When she turned to look, Joe pulled out his pit. and aimed it at the back of her head. Then he pulled the trigger. Clifton saw Minnie die and he was terrified. Joe told him he had no choice that Minnie was pregnant and he had to get rid of her so he could

be with Buddy. This is calculated and it was done with a witness because he planned it. He closed the tavern. He organized a beach trip, concealed a weapon, created a distraction and then waited for the right moment. This is premeditation. And this level of planning wasn't impulsive or driven by emotion. It was conflict resolution for Joe. Many had become an obstacle and he simply had to remove her. Whether or not she was truly pregnant is hard to say, but it does tell us a few things. First, he understood that on some level what he did required justification to his witness based on what he said to Clifton, which means he knew it was wrong. And two, that he didn't care about killing a woman, let alone a pregnant woman. And he didn't care what Clifton thought of that either. So Joe lacks

remorse and he lacks empathy. This is also the moment where we can say with reasonable confidence that Joe fits the profile of someone capable of predatory violence. He's cold, purposeful, and completely disconnected from any normal emotional response to ending another person. life. He pointed out a bird, he shot her in the back of the head, and then justified his actions in a way that makes absolutely no sense to any rational person and made his employee help cover his tracks. And then he went back to running his tavern like it never happened. Joe didn't seem to care whether Clifton believed that Minnie really was pregnant, but he needed him to help cover up his crime. Joe pulled a couple shovels from the car and ordered Clifton

to help him dig. Terrified, Clifton knew he had no choice, or else he'd suffer the same fate as Minnie. So the two men dug a hole in the sand. They removed all of Minnie's clothes and jewelry, maybe to get rid of anything that could identify her, or to sell to make money. Then they buried her before returning home. Back in Elmendorf, Joe told people that Minnie was pregnant with another man's baby and that she'd left. Some people thought this was a little suspicious, especially because all of Minnie's clothes and belongings were still in her room at the tavern, but most people chalked it up to her leaving in a hurry. Buddy, for her part, was happy that Minnie was gone, and in September of 37, about a month or two after Minnie was killed, Joe and Buddy got married. Shortly after,

Joe did something surprising. He told Buddy the truth about what really happened to Minnie. He said he took her to the beach and killed her so that she couldn't cause any more problems with them. Confessing this to Buddy, of all people, was a demonstration of power, and it was after he married her, which was intentional. This is an extension of control, and it was a message to her that he removed someone who got in his way, and he could and would do the same to her. Buddy now knew exactly what her husband was capable of, exactly what happened to women who

became inconvenient to him, and exactly what her options were if she ever could. considered crossing him. That's intimate partner violence disguised as care or love and consistent with Joe's profile. At the same time, Clifton received a similar message in real time. This is also where hubris becomes clinically relevant. Joe had spent years with his behavior going unchallenged. His family name protected him. His brother ran the town. Every single time, Joe pushed a boundary and nothing happened, his confidence that he was beyond consequence grew a liver. larger. And by the time he told Buddy what he did to many, he generally may not have believed there was anything to fear from saying it out loud and especially from her. He used fear and

control to his advantage and power and lack of consequences reinforced his confidence. We don't know how Buddy reacted to this news, but we know that she did not leave Joe and she did not tell the police. However, she also didn't keep the secret to herself. Buddy told one of her friends at the tavern, 22-year-old Hazel Brown. Maybe they didn't actually think Joe was being serious, or again, maybe they were scared because they still didn't go to the police. And things went on as usual of the tavern. Joe kept reeling in business with his Saturday night gator frenzies, and people forgot all about Minnie Gotthard. But it wasn't long before trouble was brewing once again. This time, it was Hazel who brought Joe's

some unwelcome news and set in motion yet another gruesome act of violence. Thanks so much for listening. Come back next time for the conclusion of our deep dive on Joe Ball. Serial Killers and Murderous Minds is a Crimehouse original powered by Pave Studios. Here at Crimehouse, we want to thank each and every one of you for your support. If you like what you heard today, reach out on Instagram at Crimehouse. And don't forget to rate, review, and follow serial killers and murderous minds wherever you get your podcasts. Your feedback truly makes a difference.

And to enhance your listening experience, subscribe to Crime House Plus on Apple Podcasts. You'll get every episode of serial killers and murderous minds ad-free, along with early access to each thrilling two-part series. Serial Killers and Murderous Minds is hosted by me, Vanessa Richardson, and Forensic Psychologist, Dr. Tristan Engels, and is a crimehouse original powered by Pave Studios. This episode was brought to life by the serial killers and murderous minds team. Max Cutler, Ron Shapiro, Alex Benadon, Lori Marinelli, Natalie Pertzowski, Sarah Kemp, Alyssa Fox, Sarah Batchelor, Kaylee Pine, and Carrie Murphy. Thank you for listening.