It was a scene of sheer terror.  Bodies lay dead on the street with puddles of blood everywhere.  It was the work of one crazed gunman that killed nine people and injured dozens more.  The gunman left behind no discernible motive, shocking the community of 5,500 people who cried out for answers.  It happened in Winfield on August 13th, 1903.  Long before the intersection of 9th and Main became the crossroads it is now, it was a brutal crime scene 115 years ago.  
It was the actions of Gilbert Twigg that permanently scarred this historical landscape.  As the Camon Band played to a large crowd, estimated between 1,000 and 5,000 people, that Thursday evening, those fateful shots rang out.  Armed with a 12-gauge double-barreled shotgun, he committed mass murder.   What transpired was a terrible bloodbath, with Twigg immediately killing nine and wounding 25 unsuspecting others.
 What follows is the Winfield Courier account of what happened once the first shots were fired.  ”At the first shot fired, Clyde Wagoner's horn was shattered in his hand and at the next, Rev. Oliver fell from his chair on the band stand. It would beggar fancy to attempt to describe the suffering of the injured, and the sight of prominent young businessmen dying in pools of their own blood made strong men turn aside their heads. A handful of brains on the pavement in front of the Craig book store, with young Dawson [Biliter] laying within a few feet in a pool of his own blood, is a representative picture of the vengeance meted out to an innocent public by the demented man.
"After firing his first two shots, Twigg arose and each time he fired he took a step backward, until he was in the alleyway back of Craig's where he came face-to-face with night watchman George Nichols and Cal Ferguson, who out of the crowd of several thousand people, were the only men who displayed any disposition to follow the veritable human canon [sic], and then still believing himself innocent and the victim of plotting enemies, Twigg took his own life, rather than be taken alive."
Arthur Swain of Rock writes in the Free Press about Dawson Billiter as follows:
"Dawson Billiter, son of J.D. Billiter, of Richland township, who was killed in your town last week, was twenty-three years old and was held in very high esteem by the whole community, being a young man of excellent habits. His father moved here five years ago from Milan, Sumner County. Dawson had just opened up a barber shop with Claude Waggoner on East 9th, where he was building up a good trade. His remains were taken to Milan last Friday and on Saturday were buried beside his mother, who died four years ago. They were accompanied by his father, sister and a few of his most intimate friends, Elenora and Felix Sloan, Jackson Welfelt and Robert Swain. His father and sister have the sympathy of the entire community in their sad bereavement.
Will Bowman was another Sumner County fatality.  He was buried in the Oxford Cemetery.
Twigg was an Army veteran of both the Spanish-American War and the Phillippine-American War.  From newspaper accounts of the time, it was speculated that he suffered from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder.  A military headstone with his name on it is in Union Cemetery in Winfield, but there is a rumor that a yellow flag located in Highland Cemetery is the actual location of his true gravesite.  Due to the circumstances from which he died, there was great furor at the time of where he would truly be buried.  
Why did Gilbert Twigg decide to commit mass murder?  He did leave behind a final note, writing, “I would like to say to those who have interested themselves so much in my welfare (that seems to be the public in general), that I do not and most likely never will know the real cause of being treated in the manner in which I have been treated. I do know that I have never killed any person, that I have never stolen anything, and that I have always been honest, and never violated any laws of our country to my knowledge. These things I know to be true. Now the question arises in my mind as to the real cause of the trouble. Can it be that I have been followed up since I was suspected of something in Winfield over four years ago, or can it be because of something I might have said about having been shadowed, or is it because of my girl affaire here some eight or nine years ago? I am inclined to believe that it is the latter, and if so, it is certainly very unjust. If I was sure that it came from the girl affair, I would go into details and tell everything, but as I am not sure and have no way to find out, I will keep it for her sake, what I have not already told to a friend of mine. Now, there is one thing that I have to regret, and that is because I did not settle this thing with Lieutenant Myron C. Bowdish and Contract surgeon O. W. Woods while I was a patient, at the Banate, in the Phillippines. Then I could have gotten what was due me, and this thing would have been over long ago. I would have settled these things then and there, but lived in the hopes that there would be some end to the thing some time, but it seems not. At least, there is no end in sight yet, and have no way of knowing that there ever will be. The past few years have been a long, long time to me. Of course, you people who have been deeply interested know the way you have treated me. You know you have `doped' me until I was forced to give up about a $100 a month position. You know that you drove me from place to place in the same manner and forced me to give up a neat little sum of my hard earned money to railroad companies money that I went through the danger of war and diseases, both in Cuba and in the Phillippines to get. You also know that you watched my mail and after finding out my friends and correspondents, you told them some kind of a story about me that caused everyone of them to drop me and turn me down cold.
"Now, ladies and gentlemen, knowing this as you do, and as I do, do you think I will give up and sit down in a corner someplace and hold my hands and do nothing? Nay, nay, Pauline, not I. I have given up positions, I have taken your dope, I have taken your insults, and I have done nothing. But you will find me then delivering the goods in the end. You should let this be a lesson to you in the future, and when you are about to make big things out of little ones you should cough this up and look at it on both sides and be sure you are right before you go ahead. You may think your theory is all right, but if common sense does not teach you, experience will. Your brain may be all right in quality, but there may be a chance for them to be lacking in quantity. I believe this as all I have to say, so, `Adios.'"
It was not the first, and unfortunately, would not be the last.  A new century had begun, and mankind definitely had a long dark road ahead of it.