The Forgotten Horror of Joan Ash: A 1960's True Crime Horror in Newfoundland

There are some crimes that refuse to be forgotten, no matter how hard history tries to erase them. The 1960 murder of Joan Ash is one of them. A brutal, senseless killing driven by obsession. A young woman with her whole life ahead of her, stolen in the dead of night. A town shaken to its core. And a verdict that still doesn’t sit right.

This is the haunting, overlooked story of Joan Ash.

Joan Ash was 18 years old, full of life, and working in the Dietary Department of the General Hospital in St. John’s. She had sandy hair, dark eyes, and a warm presence that made people gravitate toward her. On Sunday, March 20, 1960, she and her friend Vivian Chard took a trip to Carbonear to visit Joan’s parents.

It was supposed to be an ordinary night. A little laughter, a break from work, and a return to St. John’s the next morning. But Joan never made it home.

Because Donald Stone was waiting for her.

Donald Stone was 28. Ten years older than Joan. A tall, lanky man from Bryant’s Cove, with black hair and an intensity in his eyes that had once been charming. But charm can curdle into something dangerous.

Stone had been obsessed with Joan, a fixation that grew into full-fledged delusion when she ended their relationship. She had moved on, started seeing someone else—a young man who kept her photo on his bureau, a small token of a fresh love. But to Donald, this was the ultimate betrayal.

His mind twisted her rejection into something monstrous. If he couldn't have her, no one could.

The Night of Terror

At 9:30 PM, Joan stepped off a bus with her two friends, Vivian and Ann, on Plymouth Road. They had spent the evening laughing, chatting—completely unaware of the horror that was about to unfold.

Then, from the darkness, Donald Stone appeared.

He wasn’t there by accident.

He had been waiting. Watching. Planning.

Like a predator stalking prey, he rushed forward, ignoring Vivian and Ann, his eyes locked on Joan.

Before she could scream, his hands were around her throat.

He knocked her to the ground, dragging her across the icy road.

Joan kicked, fought, gasped for air, but Stone was stronger, driven by rage. Her muffled cries filled the freezing night air.

Her friends? They froze.

For a second, they just stood there—in shock, in terror.

Then, reality hit them like a bolt of lightning. They ran.

They ran toward the hospital, screaming for the police. But by the time help arrived, Joan was already dead.

Joan’s body was found hours later, half-buried in a snowbank.

The autopsy revealed pure brutality:

• Her face was beaten beyond recognition. The sheer force of the blows indicated rage-fueled overkill.

• She had been strangled. Her dental plate had been shoved deep into her throat, likely by the pressure of Stone’s grip.

• Gravel was found in her stomach. This suggested that she had been forced face-down into the ground, inhaling dirt as she struggled to breathe.

This wasn’t just a killing.

It was personal. It was obsessive. It was monstrous.

A Community in Shock

Hours later, Joan’s lifeless body was found in a snowbank.

The autopsy was gruesome. Her face was beaten beyond recognition, injuries so severe they were later compared to a wild animal attack. She had been strangled, her dental plate lodged deep in her throat, and gravel was discovered in her stomach—evidence that she had struggled, fought, desperately tried to survive.

But Stone was stronger. His rage, his obsession, his need for control had won.

The Aftermath: Justice or a Loophole?

Donald Stone was arrested immediately.

In court, he looked nervous, sweaty, disheveled. He wore a blue-striped shirt, his hands trembling as he remained silent. The trial lasted one week, and the testimonies were damning.

Four psychiatrists took the stand, diagnosing him with paranoid schizophrenia. They claimed he wasn’t responsible for his actions. That he wasn’t in control. That he didn’t understand what he was doing.

The jury—all men—deliberated for just over an hour before delivering their verdict: