Beulah Annan
Long before Chicago dazzled Broadway and Hollywood with jazz hands and courtroom theatrics, there was a real woman at the center of it all—Beulah Annan, the original femme fatale behind the glitz and headlines. Her story had everything: love, betrayal, booze, and a courtroom full of spectacle. But unlike the musical, her life didn’t end in applause.
The Jazz Age, Guns, and Glamour
In 1924, Beulah Annan was a 23-year-old housewife living in Chicago. Bored with her marriage and caught up in the jazz-fueled chaos of the Roaring Twenties, she began an affair with a man named Harry Kalstedt.
One afternoon, the affair turned deadly. Beulah shot Harry in her bedroom. Then—according to her own account—she sat next to his body, drank cocktails, and played the foxtrot record “Hula Lou” over and over for hours before calling her husband, telling him she’d killed a man.
It was scandalous. But in a city already obsessed with crime and drama, it was also entertainment.
A Trial Full of Twists
Beulah’s trial was pure theater. With her good looks, soft voice, and tearful persona, she won the hearts of the all-male jury. She claimed self-defense, saying Harry tried to leave her, and she feared for her life.
The press called her “Chicago’s prettiest murderess,” and reporters couldn’t get enough. Her husband stood by her side throughout—until she was acquitted. Then she famously told him, “I don’t want to be married anymore.” Cold as ice.
Beulah and her Husband Al (Right)
The Aftermath
Beulah tried to live the high life after the trial, but her fame faded fast. She married again, divorced, and struggled with her health. She died young—just eight years after her trial, at the age of 28, from tuberculosis.
From Courtroom to Curtain Call
If Beulah’s story sounds familiar, it’s because she inspired the character Roxie Hart in the play Chicago, written by reporter Maurine Dallas Watkins, who had covered Beulah’s trial. The play later became the iconic musical and film, turning a true crime tale into a showbiz legend.
Beulah Annan’s life was short and steeped in scandal, but her legacy lives on in pop culture—a symbol of how charm, image, and timing can twist justice in surprising ways. Her story is a reminder that truth can be stranger—and far more seductive—than fiction.
