Netflix’s Monster: The Ed Gein Story has garnered a lot of attention lately for dramatizing one of the most unsettling criminal personalities in America. The depiction of Ed Gein’s purported long-term romantic relationship with Adeline Watkins is one of the most contentious storylines. The show implies a 20-year romance that would have influenced this normally reclusive character’s emotional landscape. To what extent, however, is that story grounded in reality?

The first item to pique public interest was published in the Minneapolis Tribune in 1957. A woman called Adeline Watkins stated in that interview that she and Ed Gein had a 20-year romance. In contrast to the man who had transformed human skin into lampshades, she characterized him as “good and kind and sweet,” which was a remarkably benign description. Watkins told reporters they debated murder cases they heard about in the news, talked about unusual novels, and attended local taverns. Once, she remembered, “He asked me to marry him. I understood his meaning, but it wasn’t expressed in many words.
Ed Gein — Personal and Criminal Profile
| Attribute | Details |
|---|---|
| Full Name | Edward Theodore Gein |
| Birth Date | August 27, 1906 |
| Death Date | July 26, 1984 |
| Place of Birth | La Crosse County, Wisconsin |
| Criminal Activity | Murder, Grave Robbing, Body Mutilation |
| Conviction | Guilty but Insane – Institutionalized |
| Notoriety | Source for films like Psycho, Texas Chainsaw Massacre, Silence of the Lambs |
| Alleged Girlfriend | Adeline Watkins |
| Source Reference |
She softened Ed’s image by mentioning his love of literature about India and Africa. She remembered evenings spent discussing murders in the news, with Ed frequently pointing out the errors committed by the killers. It suddenly seems eerily prophetic to read this casual comments on savagery. Watkins, meanwhile, only thought it was “interesting” at the time.
Only a few weeks later, Watkins provided a second account of events, which was a startling reversal. She refuted the main points of her previous story in an interview with the Stevens Point Daily Journal. This updated version states that she and Gein had a short romance, lasting around seven months around 1954. She adamantly denied ever falling in love or even going to his house, even though she acknowledged that they occasionally went to the movies together and struck up a conversation. Her original romantic ideal appeared to crumble under the strain of the heightened scrutiny.
One may track how the media amplifies some tales for dramatic effect by comparing the two versions of her story. The notion that even a killer may be “loving” or “gentle” contributed to newspaper sales in the 1950s and gave the public a disconcerting but palatable account of what happened. A man who stole from graves and made furniture out of corpses felt less awful than a lonesome romantic farmer.
With a very dramatic turn, Netflix went toward this softer narrative. In the streaming series, Watkins is not only Gein’s lover but also a possible collaborator who helped Gein spiral into vice. She is shown assisting to hide evidence and giving him equipment for grave robbing. However, this is not supported by any reliable historical data. No official police report ever revealed the real Adeline, and she was never charged or accused. At best, her presence appears to have been incidental.
By making these changes, Monster continues a larger media trend that involves incorporating emotionally charged subplots into violent criminal storylines. Similar to the “Bonnie and Clyde” trope, Gein’s purported relationship has two purposes: it provides viewers with a psychological escape path and humanizes the antagonist. If we think that someone liked him, we are less appalled.
This merging of fact and fiction poses difficulties for historians and real crime specialists. It distorts public perception and threatens empirical research. Several investigative journalists have explained that although Watkins probably knew Gein, the 20-year chronology and claimed engagement seem wildly inflated. The second interview, which is the more convincing version, suggests light camaraderie instead of romance.
The historical record alone, however, is not what sustains this tale. It’s the ease with which myths are revived and transformed into dramatic devices in contemporary media. Now, Adeline Watkins, a regular lady unintentionally entangled in an infamous lineage, stands midway between fact and legend.
It’s also critical to take into account how media representations affect how society views actual occurrences. Netflix runs the risk of giving disproportionate weight to someone who, according to her own admission, only had a few social encounters with Gein by portraying Adeline as a significant player in his life. That decision rewrites history rather than just providing entertainment.
The public’s need for these stories is still unquenchable, nevertheless. On streaming services, horror-romance stories are frequently among the most watched. The psychological justifications for heinous deeds that viewers seek are frequently provided by fictitious partners. Emotional subplots provide a disturbingly realistic element, whether it is Hannibal Lecter and Clarice Starling or the melodramatic lovers in Dahmer.
What started out as a local newspaper narrative about Ed Gein and Adeline Watkins turned into a decades-long rumor that is currently being repackaged as prime-time entertainment. Her brief friendship with Ed has become a source of national curiosity, a lens through which people try to make sense of unimaginable deeds.
Adeline’s own shift in tone implies that she was uncomfortable with the way her comments were exploited. Her subsequent remarks were more subdued, possibly even defensive. She might have been overpowered by the unexpected attention or felt duped by the media. In any case, her public reversal made it much less likely that her romantic claims were ever intended to be taken literally.
The Ed Gein and Adeline case serves as a particularly poignant illustration of how true crime continues to rule popular culture. It emphasizes how narrative frequently takes precedence over reality and how the incorporation of a romantic arc, whether true or not, can reinterpret historical memory. Unquestionably, there is a desire for emotional complexity, even when it is produced artificially, as evidenced by the popularity of shows like Monster.