Before they had names, they had initials, Baby A, Baby B, Baby C and Baby D. Born on May 19, 1930, in Lansing, Michigan, from a single egg, they were hailed as a modern-day miracle: the world’s first identical quadruplets.
The ‘Morlok Quads’ – Edna, Wilma, Sarah and Helen – were instant celebrities. Newspapers splashed their faces across front pages. Crowds gathered outside the family home. Businesses showered them with gifts.
But behind the smiles lay a nightmare.
Their father, Carl Morlok, a German-born white supremacist and Nazi sympathiser, quickly realised the money-making potential of his daughters’ fame. He charged visitors 25 cents to view the babies, paraded them in matching dresses, and by age seven had them touring the Midwest as a performing troupe.
Carl’s public image was ‘jolly daddy of four-of-a-kind’, but at home, the rules were chilling. The girls were forbidden friends, holidays, church activities or boyfriends. He removed doors so he could watch them undress, fondled them under the guise of “testing” their purity, and even ordered surgical procedures on two to prevent masturbation.
“He was a devil,” said Sarah’s son David Cotton. “If my grandfather hadn’t died, I wouldn’t be here today. My mother would never have married while he was alive.”
The cruelty took its toll. By their mid-20s, all four suffered severe mental health problems and were diagnosed with schizophrenia. Except for Sarah, they were subjected to electroconvulsive therapy and spent years in psychiatric institutions.
Researchers studied them extensively, even subjecting them to invasive spinal procedures, but offered little comfort.
Sarah alone built something resembling a normal life. After Carl’s death in 1957, she moved to Washington DC, worked as a legal secretary, and married an Air Force officer, with whom she had three children. Two died young, but her surviving son remained close to her until the end.
In 2015, Sarah published The Morlok Quadruplets: The Alphabet Sisters, glossing over much of the horror. “We felt like tin soldiers marching to my father’s rules,” she wrote, her only public hint at the abuse.
Sarah outlived her sisters by more than 20 years, Edna died in 1994, Wilma in 2002, Helen in 2003. She died last month aged 95, taking many secrets with her.
“She believed God was going to have the last word,” said biographer Dr Audrey Clare Farley. “Her father was a monster. Her faith kept her going until the very end.”
