Amityville

In this Nov. 14, 1974 file photo, police and members of the Suffolk County Coroner's Office investigate the murder of six people found shot in Amityville, N.Y.
In this Nov. 14, 1974 file photo, police and members of the Suffolk County Coroner’s Office investigate the murder of six people found shot in Amityville, N.Y.

Nestled in the peaceful Long Island suburb of Amityville, New York, the house at 112 Ocean Avenue looks like any other charming Dutch Colonial home. Built in 1927, it boasts five bedrooms, a boathouse, and a prime spot along the water. But beneath its picturesque exterior lies a story that’s gripped the public imagination for decades—a tale rooted in real tragedy and spun into a web of paranormal legend.

The DeFeo Murders: The Horror Begins

It all started on November 13, 1974, when 23-year-old Ronald DeFeo Jr. grabbed a .35 Marlin rifle and shot six members of his family as they slept. His parents, Ronald Sr. and Louise, along with his four siblings—Dawn, Allison, Marc, and John Matthew—were found dead, face down in their beds. The killings were brutal and methodical, and DeFeo’s explanations shifted over time. He initially claimed voices in the house drove him to it, a story that fueled later speculation. After a seven-week trial, he was convicted of second-degree murder in November 1975 and sentenced to six terms of 25 years to life. He remained in prison until his death in March 2021.

The Lutz Family and the Haunting That Shocked the World

Just over a year later, in December 1975, George and Kathy Lutz moved into the house with their three children and dog, Harry. They snagged the place for $80,000—a bargain, considering its grim history. The furniture from the DeFeo family was even included in the deal. But their dream home quickly turned into a nightmare. After just 28 days, the Lutzes fled, leaving everything behind. They claimed they’d been terrorized by paranormal forces: doors slamming, eerie voices, green slime oozing from walls, and a chilling presence that wouldn’t let up. George later said he woke every night at 3:15 a.m.—the same time the DeFeo murders were believed to have happened.

Their story exploded with the 1977 book The Amityville Horror by Jay Anson, based on 45 hours of taped recollections the Lutzes provided. The book sold millions and inspired a hit 1979 film starring James Brolin and Margot Kidder, cementing the house’s place in pop culture. But was it real? That’s where the tale gets murky.

Fact or Fiction: The Controversy Unraveled

Skeptics have long questioned the Lutzes’ account. No police reports back up claims of disturbances, and details in the book—like a bar called The Witches’ Brew—didn’t exist in Amityville at the time. Changes crept into later editions too; a priest’s car morphed from a Ford to a Chevrolet Vega and back again. In 1977, the Lutzes sued Ronald DeFeo Jr.’s defense lawyer William Weber, writer Paul Hoffman, and others, alleging privacy invasion and distortion of their story. Weber later admitted he’d cooked up the haunting with the Lutzes over wine, hoping to profit and aid DeFeo’s defense. Polygraph tests the Lutzes took in 1979 showed no lying, but experts note those tests aren’t foolproof.

Meanwhile, paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren, famous from The Conjuring films, visited in 1976 and claimed the house was plagued by evil. Yet every family who’s lived there since the Lutzes—starting with the Cromartys in 1977—reported nothing unusual. The house, now at 108 Ocean Avenue after an address change to deter gawkers, has been sold multiple times, most recently in 2017 for $605,000.

A Legacy That Won’t Fade

So, what’s the truth? The DeFeo murders are undeniably real, a chilling chapter of violence that scarred Amityville. But the haunting? It’s likely a mix of grief, imagination, and opportunism spun into a blockbuster myth. The house still stands, its iconic quarter-moon windows long replaced, a quiet monument to a story that’s outgrown its walls. Whether you believe in ghosts or not, the Amityville Horror endures as a cultural phenomenon—proof that sometimes, the scariest things are the tales we tell ourselves.