You’ve probably heard the rumors. Maybe you saw a snippet of a true crime documentary or read a creepypasta that felt a little too detailed to be fake. The story of a man living in an attic, hiding for years while conducting a secret affair, sounds like a gothic horror novel. But the "Man in the Attic" wasn't a ghost. He was a real person named Otto Sanhuber. And for nearly two decades, he lived in the cramped, windowless crawlspaces of two different homes, all because of a bizarre pact with a woman named Dolly Oesterreich.
It’s a story about obsession. It's about a level of domestic deception that seems impossible in the modern age of smart doorbells and thermal imaging. Back in the early 1900s, however, things were different. People could disappear in plain sight.
The Meeting That Changed Everything
Walburga "Dolly" Oesterreich was the wife of a wealthy apron manufacturer, Fred Oesterreich. By all accounts, the marriage was stale. Fred was often busy or drinking, and Dolly was bored. In 1913, in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, Dolly’s sewing machine broke. She asked her husband to send someone to fix it. Instead of a professional repairman, Fred sent a young worker from his factory: 17-year-old Otto Sanhuber. Dolly was in her 30s.
The attraction was instant.
They didn't just have a fling. They entered into a lifestyle that defied logic. Initially, they met at hotels, but that got expensive and risky. Dolly, who was nothing if not calculating, suggested Otto just... move in. Not into the spare bedroom, obviously. She moved him into the attic.
Life as the Man in the Attic
Think about your attic for a second. Is it finished? Probably not. Otto Sanhuber’s "apartment" was a tiny space under the eaves. He had a cot, a lamp, and some books. He spent his days writing pulp fiction stories—ironic, right?—and waiting for Fred to leave for work. When the coast was clear, he’d come down, eat with Dolly, and help with the housework. He was basically a ghost who did the dishes.
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Some people think Otto was a captive. Honestly, it’s more complicated. While Dolly certainly manipulated the situation, Otto seemed to go along with it willingly. He was obsessed with her. He lived this way for years. When Fred decided the family should move to Los Angeles in 1918, Dolly made sure their new house had a very specific feature: a walk-in attic.
She told Fred she wanted the house for its charm. In reality, she was scouting a new cage for Otto. He was shipped to LA in a trunk. Think about that for a second. A grown man packed into luggage to cross the country.
The Night the Secret Broke
For years, the arrangement worked. Fred sometimes heard noises—footsteps, a creaking floorboard—but Dolly always gaslighted him. She’d say it was rats or the house settling. Fred, who was often intoxicated, believed her. Until August 22, 1922.
The Oesterreichs were arguing. It wasn't a small spat; it was a violent physical confrontation. Otto, tucked away in his cubby hole, heard Dolly screaming. For the first time in nearly a decade, the Man in the Attic broke his cardinal rule: he intervened.
He burst out of the ceiling with two .25 caliber handguns. In the chaos, Otto shot Fred Oesterreich three times, killing him instantly.
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Now, most people would run. Instead, Dolly and Otto staged a robbery. Otto locked Dolly in a closet from the outside and then retreated back into his attic hideout. When police arrived, they found a grieving widow locked in a closet and a dead husband. They couldn't explain how she locked herself in from the outside, but they didn't have a better lead.
Why the Case Still Fascinates Us
The police were suspicious of Dolly for years. She was a bit too "merry" of a widow. She even moved into a new house and, predictably, moved Otto into that attic, too. The secret only unraveled because of Dolly's own vanity. She gave one of the murder weapons to a lover (yes, she had others while Otto was in the attic) and asked him to dispose of it. Instead, he kept it and eventually went to the cops.
When the news broke, it was a sensation. The Los Angeles Times and other papers couldn't get enough of "The Bat Man," as they called Otto. He had spent roughly 10 years in total darkness or semi-darkness. His skin was reportedly a ghostly pallor.
- Legal Weirdness: Otto was actually convicted of manslaughter, but the statute of limitations had run out. He walked free.
- Dolly's Fate: Her trials ended in hung juries. She eventually walked away from the whole thing, living until 1961.
- The Psychological Toll: Imagine the mental state required to live in a crawlspace for a decade. Experts like those cited in historical criminal psychology journals often point to this as an extreme case of codependency and agoraphobia.
The Misconceptions
Most people think Otto was a victim or a prisoner. The evidence suggests otherwise. He wrote dozens of stories under the pen name "Conrad Sanborn." He had an intellectual life. He chose this. He chose to be the Man in the Attic because he believed his love for Dolly required that sacrifice. It wasn't a kidnapping; it was a cult of two.
Another mistake people make is thinking this was a one-time thing. There have been several "Man in the Attic" cases throughout history. For instance, the 1941 case of Theodore Coneys in Denver. Coneys lived in an attic for months and murdered the homeowner, Philip Peters. But the Sanhuber/Oesterreich case remains the gold standard for sheer duration and the bizarre romantic element.
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Actionable Insights for History and Crime Buffs
If you're fascinated by this case or researching similar historical anomalies, there are ways to dig deeper into the primary sources.
- Check the Archives: The Los Angeles Public Library holds digitized records of the 1923 and 1930 trials. Searching for "Walburga Oesterreich" provides a much clearer picture than the sensationalized blog posts you often find.
- Read the Pulp: While many of Otto's stories are lost, some "Blue Book" style magazines from the 1920s are archived in university collections. Finding his work under his pseudonyms offers a glimpse into the mind of a man who lived in the dark.
- Visit the Sites: The houses in Milwaukee and Los Angeles still exist, though they are private residences. Seeing the physical constraints of the structures helps you realize just how small Otto’s world really was.
- Study the Legal Precedent: The Oesterreich case is a landmark for the statute of limitations in California. It changed how prosecutors look at "delayed discovery" in homicide cases.
The Man in the Attic isn't just a spooky legend. It's a reminder that the truth is usually much weirder than anything Hollywood can dream up. It shows how far humans will go for companionship, even if that companionship requires living in the dust and shadows.
To get the full scope of the psychology involved, looking into the works of 1920s-era psychologists who followed the trial can be enlightening. They struggled to categorize Otto—was he a slave, a lover, or a madman? Most likely, he was all three.
For those interested in the architectural history of the era, the "California Bungalow" style often featured the very attic spaces that made Otto's concealment possible. These homes weren't built for secrets, but they provided them nonetheless. If you're ever in an old house and hear a creak from above, it's almost certainly the wood expanding. Almost. But because of Otto Sanhuber, we'll always have that tiny shred of doubt. That’s the real legacy of the Man in the Attic. It turned a common house noise into the stuff of nightmares.
Don't just take the surface-level TikTok summaries as gospel. Go to the court transcripts. Look at the police photos of the "hidden" door. It was located in the back of a closet, behind a shelf. Once you see the physical reality of that tiny space, the horror of the story truly sets in. This wasn't a romance; it was a slow-motion psychological disaster that lasted twenty years. You can find these archival photos through the Los Angeles Historical Society's digital collections. Investigating these documents gives you a direct link to a past that seems too strange to be real.