When Netflix brought Ed Gein’s story back to life with its series Monster: The Ed Gein Story, millions of people were enthralled not only with the murderer’s horrifying deeds but also with Adeline Watkins, the enigmatic woman who is rumored to have loved him. Her story was both fascinating and incredibly depressing because of her quiet manner and her closeness to one of the most eerie people in history. However, television’s dramatization made it difficult to distinguish between fact and fiction, leaving viewers to speculate about Adeline’s actual fate.
The real Adeline Watkins existed. She and her mother led a modest life together in a modest rented apartment after she was born in Plainfield, Wisconsin, in 1907. Years before Ed Gein was arrested, she supposedly met him and they developed a quiet friendship based on their shared loneliness. According to her, Ed was a kind and considerate man who liked to read crime fiction and watch movies. Her portrayal of him as “gentle and kind” contrasted sharply with the hideous picture that would eventually take center stage.
In interviews with the Minneapolis Tribune, Adeline stated that she and Ed had been dating for almost 20 years and that he was respectful and a good listener. She even revealed that two years prior to his arrest, Ed had asked her to marry him, but she had declined because she was afraid she “could never live up to what he expected.” It was a very personal disclosure that provided a unique look into the humanity of a man whose crimes were incomprehensible.
Adeline Watkins — Personal and Historical Information
| Category | Details |
|---|---|
| Full Name | Adeline Watkins |
| Born | 1907, Plainfield, Wisconsin, USA |
| Known For | Alleged girlfriend of Ed Gein |
| Relationship with Ed Gein | Claimed companionship before his arrest; later denied deeper involvement |
| Occupation | Unclear; lived with her mother in Plainfield |
| Public Statements | Interviewed by Minneapolis Tribune and Wisconsin State Journal in 1957 |
| Later Life | Lived privately after Gein’s arrest; died in 1992 at age 85 |
| Portrayed By | Suzanna Son in Netflix’s Monster: The Ed Gein Story (2025) |
| Reference | A&E – Was Ed Gein Really Engaged to Adeline Watkins? |
However, her remarks soon sparked controversy. Adeline took back a lot of her remarks just two weeks after her initial interview. She maintained that the previous reports had been overblown in a follow-up article published in the Stevens Point Journal. She claimed that their friendship, which lasted for years despite only a few movie outings to the neighborhood theater, was more than a 20-year romance. She also made a point of saying that she had never been inside Gein’s farmhouse, which helped to put her at a distance from the atrocities that were later found there.
The overwhelming media storm that surrounded the case was reflected in this shift in narrative. In 1957, when police discovered Gein’s home full of human remains turned into lampshades, bowls, and clothes, Plainfield became the center of national attention. The public was shocked by the hideous discoveries, and anyone even slightly associated with him came under intense scrutiny. It would have been intolerable for Adeline to suddenly become famous, especially in a conservative rural community. She may have been shielding herself from unrelenting rumors and embarrassment by taking back her earlier statements.
Adeline’s story was especially eerie because, like many people in Plainfield, she had been blind to the evil that lay beneath Gein’s peaceful exterior. She once said, “He was different, but not cruel.” The idea that evil can take on the appearance of kindness is still remarkably relevant today. Psychologists still characterize Gein as a man whose grief and delusions, rather than his pure malice, consumed him. His schizophrenia diagnosis significantly impairs his capacity to discriminate between reality and fantasy.
Her story was given significant creative license in the Netflix adaptation. Adeline was presented in Monster as a much younger woman, a fictionalized muse who became emotionally involved in Gein’s spiral into insanity. According to the series, she even shared his morbid fascinations and encouraged his violence. Because it recast Adeline as a willing participant rather than an innocent bystander, this dramatization was especially contentious. This portrayal was deemed “deeply irresponsible” by critics who claimed it conflated historical accuracy with entertainment.
In actuality, there is no proof that Adeline Watkins was connected to Ed Gein’s criminal activities. She was not listed as an accomplice in any police report or mental health assessment. She didn’t visit Gein while he was being held at Mendota Mental Health Institute, and she wasn’t questioned after her initial interviews. Her on-screen persona was an artistic creation, an exaggerated character designed to heighten the drama.
Adeline completely withdrawn from public life following Gein’s arrest. She led a quiet life, staying out of the spotlight and keeping a very low profile. She never got married, lived in Wisconsin in her later years, and died in 1992 at the age of 85. Her life was forever marred by the crimes of others, and her death was mainly unreported.
Interest in her story was rekindled by actress Suzanna Son’s portrayal of her in the Netflix adaptation. Despite being emotionally charged, the performance rekindled discussions about how actual people who are connected to notorious criminals are portrayed on screen. Although educational, true crime frequently runs the risk of transgressing moral standards by exaggerating trauma for broad appeal. In Adeline’s instance, her identity was incorporated into a story that she probably never agreed to, a combination of dramatic invention and half-truths.
Her inclusion in Gein’s tale, however, gives the history of American crime a profoundly human dimension. In many respects, she was a misguided symbol of compassion—a woman who saw light where none existed. Her story illustrates how even the most perceptive individuals can become blind to danger when empathy and naivete coexist. For audiences today, who still romanticize complicated characters through media storytelling, this observation is especially pertinent.
