In 1916, Buda Godman gained national attention for her role as the lost damsel in a badger game con that garnered much fanfare after touring New York, Atlantic City and Chicago, when authorities there finally brought its run to a close. News of a former convent school girl running with a gang of international blackmailers shocked the nation, and many believed Buda was as much a victim of the con as its mark, wealthy widower Edward R. West. But Buda Godman was nobody’s victim, and West was not the first knight in shining armor she had taken for a ride.
Although Helen “Buda” Godman was born and raised in Chicago, her parents, Otha and Julia, both hailed from Indiana and were married in Lafayette. Due to family ties, the Godman’s spent a great deal of time visiting relatives in Lafayette, and some newspapers report Buda’s family even resided there for a time. It was in Lafayette that little Helen Godman had an older cousin or aunt also named Helen Godman, which may partly explain how little Helen came to be referred to as Buda.
As a pint-sized entertainer, little Buda Godman dazzled the townsfolk of Lafayette, Indiana, dancing her way into their hearts long before embarking on her life of crime. In September of 1898, Miss Buda Godman performed three numbers at a benefit for St. Ann’s church, 612 Wabash Avenue.
According to the Lafayette Sunday Times, “The feature of the evening’s entertainment was a cake walk, skirt dance and contortion work by Miss Buda Godman …. This little miss is the personification of grace, and her three numbers were greatly enjoyed and enthusiastically applauded by the large gathering present.”
The Journal and Courier declared, “This small graceful child completely captivated the audience with her dances…. She is about 9 years old and is one of the most accomplished little dancers in the country.”
In May of 1899, little Helen Godman again delighted the people of Lafayette, singing and dancing to great acclaim at Grand Army hall. As the Lafayette Journal gushed, “While several of the numbers were encored, the singing of Master Harry Hannagan and the singing and dancing of Little Miss Helen Godman…received the greatest favor. Miss Helen was recalled several times and her part in the entertainment was one of the most enjoyable features of the evening.”
But it wasn’t just the local townsfolk who found Buda’s performances captivating. Even a big city impresario became enchanted by her act. “Little Buda, a short time ago, attracted the managerial eye of Col. John D. Hopkins of a large circuit of theatres, having houses in Chicago, Cincinnati, St. Louis and other cities. The colonel offered Mr. and Mrs. Godman a very tempting sum for their daughter’s services, but the parents were opposed to her just now becoming associated with the stage,” the Lafayette Sunday Times wrote.
It seems, even at an early age, Buda Godman had already developed the power to send rich men reaching for their wallets.
It wasn’t just the townsfolk of Lafayette that delighted in little Buda’s talent and charm. Up the road in her hometown of Chicago, she became something of a backstage celebrity among the many who turned out to catch a glimpse of the beautiful and engaging song and dance sensation.
In Chicago Confidential, Jack Lait and Lee Mortimer report, “One of the principle theatrical hangouts was the basement table-d’hote under the Brevoort Hotel, adjoining the LaSalle Theater, and it was there the town came to peek at and gasp over Buda Godman, who was called the prettiest girl ever born and raised in the town…. Her beauty was so fearsomely fascinating that before maturity she stopped traffic on the streets. She was petite, a wee trifle plumpish, with big steel-blue eyes, a tip-tilted nose, an oval face with a dimpled chin, a peewee mouth, and tiny hands and feet.”
Clearly, Buda possessed the power to charm the socks off of just about anyone who beheld her beauty or discerned her many talents. But, as a race track sheet-writer, Buda’s “father’s calling threw him in with shady people.” So, while her parents may have wished to shield her from a life of the stage and protect her from the many unpredictable and unsavory characters who inhabited her father’s profession, they likely never considered the threat that loomed almost literally inside the home.
On July 13, 1903, a young couple was arrested by Milwaukee police at the Cream City Opera Garden, which some news reports described as a beer garden. A 14-year-old Helen Godman of 1169 Lexington Street, Chicago was found in the company of her 20-year-old cousin Norvin Godman of 1133 Lexington Street, Chicago. Norvin was a barber by trade and lived with his parents just down the street from his little cousin Buda.
Accounts of how they came to be at that location together were somewhat unclear. One said Buda had asked her cousin to take her to Milwaukee, to which he obliged. Other versions said the pair had eloped. What is clear is that Buda’s parents did not approve of her associating with the young barber and forbid her to see him.
The proprietor of the Cream City Opera Garden, Frank Nolan, was a friend of Norvin Godman. It was reported the pair had planned to reside with the man. Buda’s parents were aware of Norvin’s association with Frank Nolan and likely directed authorities to that location. While Buda’s parents would later deny the couple planned to elope, and the whole affair was simply a misunderstanding, Buda and Norvin’s comments in the press seemed to contradict that assessment.
According to the Chicago Examiner, Norvin Godman told detectives, “‘I love Helen,’ he said, ‘and I want to marry her. I don’t see that this is any of your business.’” Despite the young man’s protestations, the police made it their business, and Norvin Godman was treated to a few nights in jail.
Buda told reporters, “Of course, I’m too young to marry, but I guess I would have married my cousin, Norvin Godman, if my father hadn’t prevented me.”
Attempts by Buda’s parents to portray the incident as an innocent miscommunication were likely an effort to avoid additional scandal. While it is difficult to judge whether the sordid affair contributed to Buda’s eventual pursuit of a life of crime and deception, her parents may have seen the writing on the wall. A year later when Buda was fifteen, her parents sent her off to St. Joseph’s Academy, a Catholic girls’ school in Adrian, Michigan.
