My famous letter came about just a short while after these attacks. I stated that I was a supernatural demon from the hottest hell and that I admired Jazz music and would strike again on March 19th, 1919. I stated that whoever was playing Jazz music in their home at the time I was to pass that night would be safe. If someone were to happen to slip up however, they would face my punishment, which would be getting the axe. It is quite amusing how they made connection between me and Jack the Ripper, who had a strong reign of terror over London in the late 1800s, and my Jekyll and Hyde personality. Both mine and Jack the Ripper’s cases went unsolved with the police and everyone else in complete bewilderment.
The letter I had sent out to both The-Times Picayune and the New Orleans Police Department Reads:
Hell, March 13th, 1919
Esteemed Mortal:
They have never caught me and they never will. They have never seen me, for I am invisible, even as the ether that surrounds your Earth. I am not a human being, but a spirit and a demon from the hottest Hell. I am what you Orleanians and your foolish police call the “Axeman”
When I see fit, I shall come and claim other victims. I alone know who they shall be. I shall leave no other clues except my bloody axe, besmeared with blood and brains of he whom I have sent below to keep me company.
If you wish, you may tell the police to be careful not to rile me. Of course, I am a reasonable spirit. I take no offense at the way they have conducted their investigations in the past. In fact, they have been so utterly stupid as to not only amuse me, but his Satanic Majesty, Francis Joseph, etc. But tell them to beware. Let them not try to discover what I am; for it were better they were never born than to incur the wrath of the Axeman. I don’t think there is any need of such a warning, for I feel sure the police will always dodge me, as they have in the past. They are wise and know how to keep away from all harm.
Undoubtedly, you Orleanians think of me as a most horrible murdered, which I am, but I could be worse if I wanted to. If I wished, I could pay a visit to your city every night. At will, I could slay thousands of your best citizens, for I am in close relationship with the Angel of Death.
Now to be exact, at 12:15 (earthly time) on next Tuesday night, I am going to pass over New Orleans. In my infinite mercy, I am going to make a little proposition to you people. Here it is:
I am very fond of Jazz music, and I swear by all the devils in the nether regions that every person shall be spared in whose home a jazz band is in full swing at the time I have mentioned. If everyone has a jazz band going, well so much the better for your people. One thing is certain and that is that some of your people who do not Jazz it up on Tuesday night (if there be any), will get the axe.
Well, as I am cold and crave the warmth of my native Tartarus, and it is about time I leave your earthly home, I will cease my discourse. Hoping that thou wilt publish this, that may go well with thee, I have been, am, and will be, the worst spirit that has ever existed wither in fact or in the realm of fancy.
