I’m not a fan of trigger warnings, but this dreadful story about the murder of a child deserves one if ever a story did.

“Erna Janoschek, 17-year-old nurse maid, is on trial in Oakland for killing a little baby entrusted to her care. Her trial interests everybody,” the Oakland Post Enquirer posited.

During the trial, the San Francisco Examiner obtained and printed what they called an “amazing and terrible human document” that Erna penned describing the days leading up to the murder. The letter is a curiosity. It’s extraordinarily well-written, and there’s no self-serving attempt to disguise her motives.

Erna had been hired by Dr. Eric Liliencrantz and his wife to live in their home and be a nurse to their little girls, Francora (nicknamed Mimi), age 3, and Diana (nicknamed Tee Tee), age 1.  Erna thought her responsibilities would be limited to being a nurse to the little girls and doing their washing. Once she moved in with the family, “Mrs. Liliencrantz told me I’m expected to wash the dishes, scrub the floors, and do general housework as well.” Erna had lived with the family in their Oakland home for two weeks when the murder occurred.

Erna’s narrative began two days before the murder. She’d had a trying Sunday. The baby woke her at 5 a.m. and the Liliencrantz guests kept her up late. “It was not until Sunday evening, that I frankly told myself that I was dissatisfied with my work. The meal was delayed to a late hour. It was 8:30 before the table was deserted. I emitted a sigh as I regarded the endless stacks of dirty dishes and greasy pots and pans. I scoured and scraped with all diligence for at least a quarter of an hour… It was fully 10:30 before the kitchen was in order and the stove tray could boast complete cleanliness.”

 

The following day, Mrs. Liliencrantz got on Erna’s nerves. “I’m not saying that my good lady was the instigator of trouble. Francora grew peevish. I usually left the children to the care of their mother in the forenoon. Monday was wash day and I can still sense the dull sluggish headache that forced itself upon me as I hung clothes on the line. Mimi begged to help me, so I gave her a few handkerchiefs and napkins to carry to the line. But I realized my mistake too late. A moment later I found them strewed along the garden walk. This was a little distracting, but I really was more annoyed at myself than at my charge. After all, clean, white napkins and black, moist soil are bound to evoke temptation for a curious three-year-old. I remember a very similar experience of my own at the age of two.

“Freshly clad in a white starched frock I found myself most susceptible to the lure of a new mud-hole. Ten minutes alone in the backyard and I was wallowing like a little pig in the mire–and enjoying it. Francora was forgiven.

“Monday afternoon I amused the babies in the backyard. I was always accustomed to playing with them and I did today, even if my mind were made up to disengage myself at the end of the month. We had a merry time that day and lived entirely in the realm of our imaginations that afternoon. First we played street car in the chair swing. Then it was hospital with the four dolls as our patients. Though our play was an enigma to little Tee Tee, she seemed to enjoy herself immensely, laughing when we laughed and cooing merrily as we chattered.

“Francora was unusually responsive and more than once she lightened my somber spirits with the spontaneous, ‘Oh, aren’t we having fun, Erna?’

“Mrs. Liliencrantz arrived home at 5 o’clock. It was then that Francora remembered she was irritable for the first time since early morning. The moment that her mother stepped in the door, [Francora’s] attitude toward me veered. Her little black eyes snapped at me as if I were a boorish intruder. Mrs. Liliencrantz observed the child’s refractoriness. Her inference, doubtless, was that I’d had trouble with her Mimi that afternoon.

“I tried to keep in good spirits as I prepared the children’s evening meal. But an hour or two later, Francora firmly refused to let me undress her, and yelled like a maniac when I called her, I made up my mind again that I was through. A child who did not voluntarily submit herself to my care was a new experience for me. Never in my life had I coaxed a child, nor was I intending to now, even if it were out of sheer independence. I left the little rascal to the mercy of her mother. It’s the first time I can remember being outwardly provoked at a child. I felt like screaming I was going to leave.

“Mrs. Liliencrantz had no reason to accuse me of being too talkative that night. I resumed my work in silence. Not that I held any adverse feelings toward her. In fact, she sought to recover my lacerated spirits with the frequent, “Francora is such a moody child.” But it was I who had to bear the brunt of it all. I retreated to my room as soon as the dinner dishes were done.

“Horrid sensation that gripped me on awakening Tuesday morning was the unfruitful results of the previous day. After taking a brisk, cold bath I went downstairs in a far better humor than when I had mounted them the previous evening. My mind was made up. I would disclose my plans to Mrs. Liliencrantz and beat it that very day if possible.”

Go to Part 2!