It was supposed to be the dream home—a Dutch Colonial with quarter-moon windows, tucked away on a quiet canal in Amityville, New York. Instead, it became a nightmare that left six people dead, a family fleeing in terror, and an entire nation asking whether evil can live inside a house.
Long before it became a fixture of American horror lore, the house on Ocean Avenue was simply another family home. Built in the mid-1920s by local builder Jesse Purdy for John and Catherine Moynahan, the three-story Dutch Colonial quickly became one of the more recognizable homes on the block, thanks to its gambrel roof and quarter-moon windows.
Here is the house’s known chain of ownership:
1924–1960: John & Catherine Moynahan
Purchased the land from the Ireland family in 1924 and built the house shortly thereafter. It remained in the Moynahan family for more than three decades.1960: Eileen Moynahan Fitzgerald
The Moynahans’ daughter briefly inherited the property before selling it later that same year.1960–1965: Joseph & Mary Riley
The Rileys took ownership in October 1960, selling five years later.1965–1974: Ronald & Louise DeFeo
The DeFeo family moved in during the summer of 1965. It was here on November 13, 1974, that Ronald “Butch” DeFeo Jr. murdered his parents and four siblings, turning the house into a crime scene that would live in infamy.1975–1976: George & Kathleen Lutz
Just over a year after the killings, the Lutz family moved in. They fled after only 28 days, claiming the house was haunted—a story that would ignite decades of books, films, and controversy.1977–1987: Jim & Barbara Cromarty
Purchased after foreclosure, the Cromartys lived in the house for a decade. They reported no paranormal activity and were often outspoken critics of the haunting claims. They also changed the address from 112 to 108 Ocean Avenue to deter tourists.1987–1997: Peter & Jeanne O’Neill
The O’Neills owned the home for ten years, making renovations that included altering the iconic “eyebrow” windows.1997–2010: Brian Wilson
Wilson carried out structural updates and lived quietly, though the house’s reputation continued to attract onlookers.2010–2017: David & Caroline D’Antonio
The couple owned the home for seven years before selling it in 2017.2017–Present: Unnamed Private Owner
In February 2017, the house was purchased by a private buyer whose identity was not disclosed in public records. The property has remained off-limits to ghost hunters and thrill-seekers since.
Reporter’s Note:
Though later owners have insisted the house is nothing more than a home with an infamous past, its chain of ownership has become a story in itself—each sale marking another chapter in America’s obsession with what came to be known as The Amityville Horror.
The DeFeo Murders
November 13, 1974. In the still hours of the morning, six members of the DeFeo family were gunned down inside their home on Ocean Avenue. Each was discovered lying face-down in bed, shot with a .35-caliber Marlin rifle. The only survivor was the eldest son, twenty-three-year-old Ronald “Butch” DeFeo Jr., who within days would confess to the murders that transformed a quiet Long Island village into a synonym for horror.
The victims were Ronald Sr., 43, his wife Louise, 42, and their children Dawn, 18, Allison, 13, Marc, 12, and John Matthew, 9. Investigators were stunned that no one seemed to stir during the killings. Toxicology reports showed no sedatives in the victims’ systems, and the rifle had no silencer. Neighbors, save for the barking family dog, reported no sounds of gunfire.
When first questioned, Butch told police the murders were the work of a mob hitman. That alibi collapsed quickly under scrutiny. Within two days, he confessed. “Once I started, I just couldn’t stop. It went so fast,” he reportedly told detectives, according to coverage in the New York Times. In another statement about that night, he recalled: “I remember taking the rifle from there … going to my mother and father’s room with it … and I just started to shoot.”
Court records show DeFeo admitted to bathing, changing his clothes, and discarding the rifle in a canal before heading to work that morning, behavior prosecutors pointed to as evidence he knew what he had done and was attempting to cover it up (DeFeo v. Artuz, 1997).
At trial in November 1975, his defense pleaded insanity, arguing he had been commanded by voices in the house. Psychiatrists testified for both sides: the defense pointed to psychosis exacerbated by heavy drug use, while the prosecution countered that DeFeo exhibited antisocial personality disorder but understood his actions were wrong. The jury sided with the state. He was convicted on six counts of second-degree murder and sentenced to six consecutive life terms at Green Haven Correctional Facility.
Even after conviction, DeFeo’s story shifted. At times, he claimed his sister Dawn helped with the murders before he turned the gun on her. At other times, he suggested mobsters were involved. In parole hearings and interviews, he again mentioned hearing demonic voices, though no version of events remained consistent.
What endures is the uncertainty. How could six people be killed in sequence without resistance or warning? Why did the neighbors not hear the shots? And why did DeFeo never give one definitive account?
DeFeo remained imprisoned until his death on March 12, 2021, at the age of 69. In the end, he left the public with fragments rather than clarity. Whether driven by years of abuse, drug-induced rage, financial motives, or hallucinations, his actions that night not only destroyed a family but forever altered the fate of the house they lived in. It would soon be known not by its architecture or waterfront views, but by a single name: Amityville.
The Lutz Haunting
December 1975. Just over a year after the DeFeo murders, George and Kathleen Lutz bought the house on Ocean Avenue for $80,000, a steep discount given the property’s size and waterfront location. They knew the home’s history but believed a blessing from a priest would be enough to erase its shadows. What followed became one of the most infamous haunting accounts in American history — a story that would fuel decades of debate.
According to the Lutzes, strange activity began almost immediately. A priest who attempted to bless the home later testified that he heard a voice hiss, “Get out,” and felt an unseen force strike him. In the weeks that followed, the family reported a barrage of unexplained phenomena:
Swarming flies in the middle of winter, gathering in the sewing room.
Green slime oozing from keyholes and walls.
Sudden cold spots and foul odors without source.
George Lutz waking nightly at 3:15 a.m., the approximate time of the DeFeo murders.
Kathy Lutz levitating in her sleep and being physically embraced by invisible arms.
The youngest daughter befriending “Jodie,” a pig-like entity with glowing red eyes.
By their account, the activity escalated each night until it became unbearable. On January 14, 1976, after just 28 days, the Lutz family fled the house, leaving behind clothes, furniture, and personal belongings. They never returned.
Their story became the basis for Jay Anson’s 1977 bestseller, The Amityville Horror, which presented their ordeal as a nonfiction account. The book sold millions of copies and inspired the 1979 film adaptation, embedding the Amityville haunting into popular culture.
The Investigation
The Lutz claims attracted immediate attention from paranormal investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren, who declared the house plagued by demonic forces. During one investigation, a camera allegedly captured the spectral image of a young boy peeking from a doorway — a photograph that remains one of the most circulated images of the case.
Skeptics, however, pointed to inconsistencies. Later owners reported no unusual activity. Journalists questioned whether financial motives played a role, noting the Lutzes were under financial stress and stood to profit from book and film deals. In a 1979 civil trial involving disputes between the Lutzes, DeFeo’s defense attorney, and collaborators, testimony suggested the haunting narrative may have been exaggerated during brainstorming sessions over wine.
Still, the Lutz family maintained their story for the rest of their lives. George and Kathy both passed away in the early 2000s, never retracting their claims. Their son Daniel, in the 2012 documentary My Amityville Horror, reiterated that his childhood in the house was marked by terror, describing his stepfather as abusive but insisting that supernatural events also occurred..
Pop Culture and the Amityville Brand
What began as a grisly murder case and a family’s claim of supernatural terror quickly became something larger: a cultural phenomenon. Within just two years of the Lutz family’s flight, Amityville had moved from police blotters and local news into bookstores, movie theaters, and living rooms around the world.
The Book That Started It All
In 1977, author Jay Anson published The Amityville Horror, written from tapes recorded by George and Kathy Lutz. Marketed as “a true story,” it blurred the lines between journalism and sensationalism. The book sold over 10 million copies and climbed bestseller lists, cementing Amityville as not just a haunting but a household name.
Hollywood Takes Over
Just two years later, The Amityville Horror (1979) hit theaters, starring James Brolin and Margot Kidder. Its success was staggering: made for less than $5 million, it grossed more than $80 million worldwide, making it one of the highest-earning independent films of its time. Its iconic imagery — the sinister house façade with quarter-moon windows, doors slamming, flies swarming — became instantly recognizable.
Hollywood wasn’t done. Sequels and reboots followed in waves:
Amityville II: The Possession (1982), a prequel loosely based on the DeFeo murders.
Amityville 3-D (1983), marketed as both horror and spectacle.
At least 20 additional films, including the 2005 remake starring Ryan Reynolds, reintroduced the story to a new generation.
Television & Documentaries
The story fueled countless TV specials, from the Warrens’ own paranormal features to investigative debunking. Documentaries such as Amityville: Horror or Hoax? (History Channel, 2005) And My Amityville Horror (2012) revisited the case with new perspectives, keeping debate alive.
A Cultural Short-Hand for Terror
Amityville became more than a house — it became a brand of horror. The name has been attached to novels, films, haunted attractions, and even low-budget spinoffs unrelated to the original events. In pop culture, “Amityville” is now shorthand for the quintessential haunted house story: part true crime, part ghost tale, part cautionary myth.
Commercial and Legal Battles
The brand’s growth wasn’t without friction. Lawsuits emerged over rights to the story, disputes between the Lutz family, publishers, and filmmakers. Yet the controversies only amplified public interest. Every headline — hoax or haunting — fed the legend.
A Legend That Lives On
Nearly fifty years have passed since the night Ronald DeFeo Jr. took up a rifle and destroyed his family. The house on Ocean Avenue has been renovated, renumbered, and privately owned by people who insist it is nothing more than a home. Yet no coat of paint, no new address, no fresh family photographs on the mantle have ever erased its reputation.
The Lutzes fled after just 28 days, leaving behind their belongings and their sanity. Authors, filmmakers, and skeptics turned their story into an empire of books, movies, and documentaries. Each retelling twisted the legend further, blurring where fact ended and myth began.
Still, the questions remain. How could six people be murdered without a sound? Why did the Lutzes run in terror, never to return? Was it madness, malevolence, or something in the walls of the house itself?
Today, the windows no longer stare down the street like eyes, but the legend behind them still watches. Amityville is more than an address. It is a mirror of our darkest fascinations — with family, with violence, with the possibility that evil is not just born in people, but can linger in places.
And whether you believe in demons, in ghosts, or in the haunting power of tragedy itself, one truth is undeniable: the Amityville Horror will never rest.