The name is a promise the place could not keep. Quiet Dell - the words conjure a sleepy hollow somewhere in the Appalachian folds, a place where the loudest sound is birdsong over a creek. The community five miles southeast of Clarksburg fit that description for most of its history. Then, in the summer of 1931, a man named Harry Powers turned a garage on a back road outside town into a killing room, and the name Quiet Dell became national news for all the wrong reasons. The town has spent the better part of a century since trying to be quiet again.
Quiet Dell sits at the junction of Interstate 79 and West Virginia Route 20, in the rolling country of Harrison County. It has never been incorporated. There is no mayor, no city limit sign with a population figure. What is here is what most West Virginia communities have: a 7-Eleven, an Exxon, a Dollar General, and Stonewood Bulk Foods for the things the chain stores do not stock. The land around is single-family homes on big lots, the kind of spacing that lets neighbors keep chickens or run a garage business out back. Oil and gas companies operate from offices here, drawn by the Marcellus Shale fields that have transformed the local economy in the last two decades.
In the summer of 1931, federal investigators dug into the soft earth of a property at Quiet Dell and uncovered the bodies of a Park Ridge, Illinois widow named Asta Eicher, her three children, and another woman, Dorothy Lemke. The man responsible was Herman Drenth, who used the alias Harry Powers - a Clarksburg-area grocer who had courted lonely women through a lonely-hearts club correspondence service, lured them to West Virginia with promises of marriage, and killed them for their savings. Powers was tried, convicted, and hanged in 1932. The murders drew reporters from across the country, including Jayne Anne Phillips, who would decades later make Quiet Dell the title of her acclaimed novel about the killings. For a brief, terrible season, the name was on every newspaper front page in America.
The community has long since outlived its dark summer. The historic Quiet Dell United Methodist Church, dating to 1896, still gathers worshipers in a building older than the crime by a generation. The Quiet Dell School, built in 1922 and added to in 1953, was listed on the National Register of Historic Places in 2001, and now houses a Civilian Conservation Corps museum commemorating the New Deal workers who reshaped so much of West Virginia's landscape. Down the road, a crafting cooperative called Primitives sells the kind of folk pieces - quilts, country furniture, primitive art - that have always been part of the cultural fabric here. These are the things Quiet Dell chose to be remembered for, given enough time to choose.
Place names carry their history whether towns want them to or not. Quiet Dell was named for its terrain - a dell is a small wooded valley - and the word quiet described the sound of the place before anyone famous lived or died there. The killings of 1931 added another layer to those four syllables, and no amount of new construction along the I-79 corridor will scrub it off completely. What the community has done instead is the slow work of accumulating ordinary days against the weight of a few extraordinary ones. The church bells still ring on Sundays. The school still stands. The dell is mostly quiet, most of the time.
Located at 39.22 degrees north, 80.29 degrees west, at the junction of Interstate 79 and West Virginia Route 20, five miles southeast of Clarksburg. Best identified from cruise altitudes of 4,000 to 6,500 feet AGL where the I-79 corridor stands out as a clean line through the wooded Harrison County hills. The closest airport is North Central West Virginia Airport (KCKB) about 4 nautical miles north. Pittsburgh approach controls overflights at higher altitudes, while local VFR traffic uses KCKB CTAF. Watch for the same Appalachian morning valley fog that affects the entire region.