Murder: True Crime Stories - UNSOLVED: The Library Murder Pt. 1

Episode Date: February 4, 2025

In 1969, 22-year-old Betsy Aardsma was studying at the library when she got up to find a book. Minutes later, Betsy was found stabbed to death — and her killer was still on the loose. Murder: True Crime Stories is a Crime House Original. For more, follow us on Tiktok and Instagram @crimehouse To learn more about listener data and our privacy practices visit: https://www.audacyinc.com/privacy-policy Learn more about your ad choices. Visit https://podcastchoices.com/adchoices

This is Crime House. Many murders happen under the cover of darkness, in hidden alleyways, isolated roadsides, or dense woods. Places that are far enough away that no one can hear a victim screaming for help, where it can take days, months, even years for a body to be found. But sometimes killers are less careful. Whether they're too caught up in their own emotions, or they want to take a gamble because they've gotten arrogant, someone might spot them.

A lot of times, that eagerness leads to the killer's arrest. But occasionally, things line up so perfectly that even in a room packed with witnesses, they get away with murder. People's lives are like a story. There's a beginning, a middle, and an end. But you don't always know which part you're on. Sometimes the final chapter arrives far too soon and we don't always get to know the real ending. I'm Carter Roy, and this is Murder True Crime Stories, a Crime House original. Every Tuesday, I'll explore the

story of a notorious murder or murders. I'll be bringing awareness to stories that need to be heard with a focus on those who are impacted. At Crime House, we want to express our gratitude to you, our community, for making this possible. Please support us by rating, reviewing, and following Murder True Crime Stories wherever you get your podcasts. Your feedback truly matters. And to enhance your Murder True Crime Stories listening experience, subscribe to CrimeHouse Plus on Apple Podcasts. You'll get every episode ad- free, and instead of having to wait for each episode of a two-part series, you'll get access to both at once, plus exciting bonus content. This is the first of two episodes on the murder of Betsy Ardzma, a 22-year-old graduate student

at Penn State. On a late afternoon in 1969, she was studying at the University Library. When she got up to find a book, someone followed her. Minutes later, Betsy was dead. Today I'll tell you about Betsy's childhood and how she ended up at Penn State. I'll detail her personal life and the moments leading up to her murder. Then I'll walk you through the primary suspects and ensuing investigation. Next time, I'll share how Betsy's case went cold for decades until a pair of amateur investigators started looking for her killer. All that and more coming up. A ticket to somewhere you don't need a fancy parka. Or just be responsible and top up your retirement fund. Plus, move any other eligible account and we'll give you a 1% match.

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out to TD Direct Investing. We don't get to choose the family we're born into, but we can decide who we want to become. Betsy Arzma was born on July 11, 1947 in Holland, Michigan. The second of four children, Betsy always dreamed of a life beyond the confines of her small conservative town. But Betsy's family was very religious, and her parents expected their children to follow suit. Those who knew young Betsy described her childhood as squeaky clean.

So it was no surprise that when it was time for Betsy to go to college, she chose to put her parents' desires before her own. Although Betsy's dream school was the University of Michigan, her family wanted her to attend nearby Hope College, a Christian liberal arts school. Both of her parents, as well as her older sister, had gone to Hope, and after pressuring Betsy to do the same, she eventually gave in. Betsy started at Hope in 1965 1965 when she was 18 years old. It didn't take long for her to realize she didn't fit in.

Students were required to attend chapel three times a week, and although Betsy shared her family's beliefs, she didn't want her life to revolve around the church. It didn't help that Hope College was also extremely strict Lights out by 9 p.m. Was a non-negotiable and there wasn't much socializing outside those hours either Which was tough for Betsy. She was bright and charismatic She thrived when she was interacting with others Even so she tried to make the most of her time there. Betsy wanted to become a doctor and started out on the pre-med track.

At the time, it was rare for women to go into medicine, but Betsy didn't let that stop her. She was determined to follow her own path. But a few months into her time at Hope, Betsy decided that medicine wasn't for her, so she switched to English and hoped to become a college professor one day. She'd always loved poetry and literature, and her new courses were definitely a better fit. But Hope College still didn't feel like the right environment.

By the time her freshman year was coming to an end, Betsy decided it was finally time to put her dreams first. She applied to transfer to the University of Michigan and after her sophomore year she was thrilled to learn she got in. In the fall of 1967, 20-year-old Betsy began her junior year at Michigan and was instantly happier than she was at Hope. The university was in the midst of the anti-war movement, and Betsy flourished in the larger, livelier community. She made friends and got involved with different clubs and student organizations.

By senior year, Betsy was sharing an apartment with three friends. There was another unit above them where four members of the Alpha Delta Phi fraternity lived. One of those young men was David L. Wright, a pre-med senior from Illinois. David noticed Betsy from the get-go, and pretty soon he couldn't get her out of his head. Eventually he asked Betsy out on a date. With David's all-American good looks and ambition, Betsy couldn't say no. Before long they were boyfriend and girlfriend, and madly in love.

But they were seniors, which meant their time together at Michigan was quickly coming to an end. And like so many college sweethearts, Betsy and David had to decide what to do next and if their plans aligned. For David, the next few years of his life were already decided. He was set on becoming a doctor, which meant going to medical school. As graduation day approached, David told Betsy that he'd been accepted to Penn State's medical program and he planned to go.

Betsy's future was less certain. Ever since starting college, she'd wanted to spend a year in Africa as part of the Peace Corps, but that meant leaving David behind, and even if it was temporary, she didn't know what that would mean for their relationship. David didn't give her much peace of mind when she asked him about it. He said he couldn't guarantee he'd be waiting for her when she returned. Betsy agonized over her decision. On one hand, she craved adventure and truly admired the work the Peace Corps did.

On the other, she'd fallen hard for the cute boy upstairs and didn't want to lose him. Ultimately, Betsy decided she couldn't imagine her life without David. And in the fall of 1969, the 22-year-old followed him to Penn State, enrolling as a graduate student in the English department. Starting a new chapter with the love of her life should have been exciting, but as soon as Betsy arrived at Penn State, she felt like she'd made a mistake. In fact, Betsy talked about leaving almost as soon as she arrived. She even told her mom she didn't know why she was there.

Betsy went on to say she had a bad feeling about the area. She couldn't explain it, but something just felt off. It probably didn't help that David wasn't actually by her side. When he first told her about Penn State, he didn't mention the medical school was in Hershey, 100 miles away from the main campus where Betsy was. Still, the two remained devoted to one another, although it seemed like Betsy put in most of the effort.

She was constantly writing him letters and taking the bus to Hershey to go see him. But that also meant Betsy didn't have much of a social life. It's not clear if she was close with anyone besides her roommate, Sharon Brandt. But like always, Betsy was determined to stay positive. As the days got shorter and the nights got colder, she settled into a routine. Betsy studied Monday through Friday, working hard and getting good grades. On the weekends, she traveled to see David. Before long, the Thanksgiving holidays had arrived. But instead of going home,

Betsy and David decided to stay in Pennsylvania and celebrate with his roommates. So on Wednesday, November 26th, 1969, Betsy took the bus to Hershey. The next day, she and David had Thanksgiving dinner at his house. Several other medical students were there too. It was a lovely meal, although Betsy couldn't stay long. David wanted her to hang around for the weekend, but Betsy had a big paper to write for her English class, and with finals coming up, she insisted she really needed to get to the main campus library.

While David was disappointed, he understood. He had to study too, and agreed it was best if they spent the weekend apart. So after everyone had their fill of turkey and mashed potatoes, he drove her to the bus stop. He watched Betsy board the bus and drive away. It would be the last time he ever saw her. Jake Handel is the only man to survive a rare incurable disease that destroyed his brain. For months he lay motionless, silent, locked inside a coma. Everyone thought he was gone, brain dead.

But he wasn't. He was fully conscious, and he heard everything. But Jake's story isn't just about a miraculous recovery. It's about a life shrouded in darkness. A world of heroin, secrets, and a deadly betrayal that cut close to home. Now, after years of silence and countless theories spun by journalists and online vigilantes, Jake is finally ready to tell his story. The real story. Completely uncensored. But telling it could be the most dangerous thing he's ever done. Blink. The true

story of one man's survival and a mystery that leaves no one innocent. Coming February 2nd. On Thursday, November 27th, 1969, 22-year-old Betsy Arzma rode the bus 90 minutes back to the main Penn State campus. She'd been visiting her boyfriend David Wright for the Thanksgiving holiday, and although it was hard to leave early, Betsy had too much classwork to catch up on. She even went straight to Petit Library after getting back to campus and returned the next

day, November 28th with her roommate Sharon Brandt. They both had finals coming up and needed to get some studying in. Once they walked into the library, Sharon and Betsy parted ways. Betsy headed down to the basement to Professor Harrison Mezzaroli's office. Betsy was writing a paper for his English 501 class and had some questions. After chatting with Professor Mezzaroli for a few minutes, Betsy exited his office shortly before 4.45 pm. She descended deeper into the library basement, taking a narrow staircase down to the stacks.

The stacks were a series of long, tightly packed shelves that held every book imaginable, but Betsy was looking for a specific book between rows 50 and 51. While Betsy was searching through the stacks, a library employee named Dean Brungart passed by. He'd never seen Betsy before, but he noticed her long brown hair and the white turtleneck sweater she wore under a red dress. A few minutes later, around 4.50 p.m., Dean heard a crashing noise. He wasn't too worried, though.

The metal carts the staff used to move books around were notoriously loud. So Dean returned to work. But he wasn't the only one who heard the crash. Students Merrily Erdly and João Uafinda were also in the basement, and when they heard the sound of metal clanging on concrete, they rushed to the source of the noise. They were at the entrance to rows 50 and 51 when a man came rushing towards them. Mayor Lee later recalled he was around six feet tall and 185 pounds.

He wore a sports coat and khakis. Jouaou remembered he was wearing a tie and glasses, and they both noticed he kept his right hand concealed and out of sight. The man told Marily and Jouaou to follow him deeper into the stacks. He led them to a woman. She was lying on the floor, surrounded by books and metal shelving as they approached the man said Somebody better help that girl Then he turned around and ran Wow followed the man while Mary Lee rushed towards the woman as she got closer followed the man, while Marilee rushed towards the woman. As she got closer, Marilee recognized that it was Betsy Ardzma.

They had classes together. Marilee leaned down next to Betsy. She was unconscious, but other than that she seemed fine. Marilee wondered if she'd fainted or had a seizure. She called for help and a crowd of students assembled. Meanwhile, Joao was in hot pursuit of the man who'd led them to Betsy, but the man was too fast. By the time they made it out of the library, he had disappeared into the cold November night. The paramedics arrived a little after 5 p.m., about 10 minutes after Betsy was found, but

by then Betsy had stopped breathing. They rushed her to Penn State's Student Health Center and into an exam room, and that's when they found a one-inch wide, three-inch deep stab wound on the left side of her chest. It had severed an artery and pierced Betsy's heart. Because it was such a clean strike, there wasn't much blood on Betsy's body. The little bit that was there was concealed by Betsy's red dress, which is why no one initially noticed she was wounded. The doctors estimated Betsy had died about five minutes after collapsing. Once the paramedics realized they were dealing with a murder case, they alerted law enforcement. The state police jumped into action, but it was already too late for them to take a number

of crucial steps The crime scene itself had been irrevocably contaminated Because no one was aware at first that Betsy had been stabbed the area was full of onlookers where she collapsed Then after Betsy was taken to the hospital and the crowd dispersed a janitor came to clean up by the time investigators returned to the stacks, any hopes they might have had of collecting physical evidence had been destroyed. Without any clues from the crime scene, detectives switched gears and began to look for potential suspects. They started with Betsy's boyfriend, David Wright, who had no idea that his girlfriend

was dead. The police arrived at his front door shortly before midnight on November 28th, hours after Betsy was killed. Once inside, David led the detectives to the kitchen so they could speak without his roommates around. They sat and told David the news. His girlfriend had been murdered. David was distraught. He couldn't help but wonder. If Betsy had stayed at his place through the weekend, maybe she wouldn't be dead. He

only became more upset when he realized the police thought he might have been involved. They were mainly suspicious about the manner in which Betsy had died. The knife had severed a vein that carries blood from the body to the heart. It caused Betsy to bleed out internally in a matter of minutes. One of David's roommates and fellow medical students later told reporters it was the perfect strike. David's roommates and fellow medical students later told reporters it was the perfect strike, one that only a trained hunter or doctor would know to do. While David was training to become a doctor, he wasn't the one who killed Betsy.

David's peers confirmed he was studying with them in Hershey at the time of her death. The town is a hundred miles away from State College, where Petit Library is located. It just wasn't possible that David could have snuck away from his study session and made it to the library in time to kill Betsy. Even so, police continued to follow up with David for weeks, hoping he might have some information about who would have wanted Betsy dead. In the meantime, Pennsylvania State Troopers Mike Mutch and Ron Tiger traveled to Betsy's hometown of Holland, Michigan.

They spoke to Betsy's family, trying to learn if anyone back home might have a grudge against her. But Betsy's family swore she didn't have any enemies. And so, Mutch and Tiger returned to Pennsylvania empty-handed. In the absence of any serious leads, people started coming up with their own theories. The library stacks were often used as a meeting place. And while Betsy was only there doing research for a paper, some people theorize she might have stumbled across something more nefarious.

Maybe she'd interrupted a drug deal and been murdered to keep quiet. Others wondered if she'd witnessed a clandestine gay encounter. A good amount of queer erotica was later discovered in and around the area where she was killed, and further investigation revealed trace amounts of semen at the crime scene. Although Betsy herself was not sexually assaulted, it fueled speculation that she'd seen something she shouldn't have. But ultimately, none of those theories held any weight. As the leads dried up and possible motives disappeared, detectives became increasingly desperate for an explanation.

The investigation dragged on for months, with as many as 40 state troopers working the case. Finally, when it seemed like the investigation was going nowhere, their prayers for a viable suspect were answered. Not once, but twice. In December 1969, the Penn State English Department held its annual Christmas party, but no one was really in a festive mood. Just weeks earlier, 22-year-old grad student Betsy Arzma had been murdered at the University Library. Betsy had been working towards a master's degree in English and her professors were still trying to process her tragic death.

But one party guest seemed strangely invested in the crime. Forty-year-old Bill Spencer and his wife Nancy had moved to the area earlier that year, in the fall of 1969. Nancy was pursuing a Ph.D. in philosophy while Bill taught sculpture in the art department, and although they'd only been in the area for a short time, Bill had already earned himself quite the reputation. Shortly after the start of the fall semester, his teaching career was cut short after police found out he was growing marijuana in his backyard.

They arrested him and Penn State barred him from teaching any more classes. Without a steady paycheck, Bill resorted to paying the bills through handyman jobs, often for university employees. As Bill went around campus helping with odd jobs, people started to notice he was a bit off. He told people he was a mercenary for various governments or that he was an infantry instructor at Fort Bragg. Once he even claimed he used to be an assassin for the Israeli military.

While Bill was clearly prone to exaggerating, no one was too worried about him. If anything, he was just kind of irritating. But soon Bill started to get scary. One day Bill was helping an English professor named Michael Bagnell with some repairs around his house off campus. Michael was busy working on a project when he looked up to see Bill standing above him holding a hammer. Michael says he never forgot the chilling look in Bill's eyes as he stared down at him. Other people in the English department shared Michael's uneasy feelings about Bill.

So when Bill started going around the Christmas party talking non-stop about Betsy Ardma, their ears perked up. What started as innocent musings about what might have happened to Betsy quickly took a dark turn. Soon, Bill was going up to guests, telling them he'd known Betsy personally and that she'd modeled nude for one of his sculptures. He was then overheard saying how easy it would have been to kill her. Shortly after the party, several guests reported Bill to campus police.

It took some time, but he was brought in for questioning in the spring of 1970, a few months after Betsy was killed. And once he was in front of investigators, Bill doubled down. He repeated a number of the claims he made at the Christmas party, including that he'd known Betsy and that she'd worked with him as a nude model. He didn't say anything about how easy it would have been to kill her, but he did give police some new information. Bill said he was in Petit Library on the day of Betsy's death and had seen a man in an overcoat running from the scene of the crime.

Bill even offered to sculpt a bust of the man in question for police to use in their investigation. Detectives were less than enthused by his offer and told Bill that wouldn't be necessary. Undeterred, Bill returned to the station a few days later with the bust in hand anyway. Investigators didn't want the sculpture and they were quickly growing tired of Bill, too. After looking into him some more, they came to realize he was simply making things up. For starters, he probably didn't even know Betsy, let alone work with her.

Posing nude seemed wildly out of character given Betsy's conservative upbringing, but more than that, there wasn't any physical evidence or witness testimony linking Bill to her murder. According to library records, he wasn't even in the building that day. Bill's colleagues told police he was a compulsive liar, and even his friends didn't know which of his claims were true. Eventually detectives decided Bill was having some kind of delusion of grandeur. He'd become obsessed with the case and was hell-bent on playing a part in it.

Bill went back to police several times, insisting he was a key player in solving the case. Eventually, they iced him out. Bill didn't take it well. Soon his mental health declined, along with his feelings about Penn State. He ranted to everyone about how the police should have taken him seriously, but the authorities were too busy trying to find Betsy's killer to care. And there was one more person they wanted to question. While Betsy's boyfriend, David Wright, wasn't considered a suspect, detectives wondered

if their relationship had something to do with Betsy's death. There were vague plans to become engaged at Christmas time, but no ring. Police thought maybe Betsy had grown tired of David's empty promises and the distance between them. They wondered what if Betsy had met someone else. That's when they honed in on Larry Moorer. Larry was a fellow English student at Penn State and at some point that fall he and Betsy had apparently gotten close.

Because Betsy didn't have any defensive wounds on her body and didn't scream or cry for help when her killer approached, detectives thought she must have known her assailant. And while the depth of her relationship with Larry was up for debate, it was clear the two had spent time together. They had even gotten coffee several times. To outsiders, it looked like they were going on dates. It was enough for detectives to give Larry a lie detector test. Apparently there were even talks about convening a grand jury to indict him.

But the local authorities were getting ahead of themselves. Although lie detector tests aren't always accurate, Larry passed it with flying colors. And ultimately, his possible involvement in Betsy's murder just didn't make much sense. Larry was 5'8", about the same height as Betsy and had a slight build. Witnesses Marilee Erdly and Joao Uefinda describe Betsy's assailant as 6 feet tall and 185 pounds. And Marilee and Larry were in the same program. Surely she would have recognized him if he was the man running away from the crime scene. In the end, police had to let Larry go, which meant they were back to square one.

Without a viable suspect, Betsy's murder case slowly grew cold. Her loved ones were forced to come to terms with the idea that they might never know who killed her or why. But decades later, a small group of citizen detectives took up the mantle. Working together, they found a new suspect, one the police had overlooked, who'd managed to slip under the radar. And they were certain that 30 years after her death, he had Betsy Ardma's blood on his hands. Thanks so much for listening.

I'm Carter Roy and this is Murder True Crime Stories. Come back next week for part two of our series on the murder of Betsy Arzma. Murder True Crime Stories 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 social media at crimehouse on TikTok and Instagram. Don't forget to rate, review, and follow Murder True Crime Stories wherever you get your podcasts.

Your feedback truly makes a difference. And to enhance your Murder True Crime Stories listening experience, subscribe to Crime House Plus on Apple podcasts. You'll get every episode ad free. And instead of having to wait for each episode of a two part series, you'll get access to both at once, plus exciting bonus content. We'll be back next Tuesday. Max Cutler, Ron Shapiro, Alex Benedon, Natalie Pertsofsky, Sarah Carroll, Greg Benson, Beth Johnson, and Russell Nash. Thank you for listening.