tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-64289106662126867722024-03-13T15:39:27.296-05:00American HauntingsGhosts, Gangsters, Murder & Mayhem in American HistoryTroy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.comBlogger193125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-89013941748105048382016-11-07T14:15:00.000-06:002016-11-07T14:15:03.127-06:00PANTHER ACROSS THE SKY<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Did the Defeat of an American Indian Leader Bring About an American Curse?</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On November 7, 1811, American forces led by Indiana Territory Governor William Henry Harrison defeated the great Indian confederacy led by Tecumseh in the Battle of Tippecanoe. Today, we know little about this story but oddly, Tecumseh was one of the most enigmatic figures in American history and one who may have predicted one of the most destructive events to ever occur in the Midwest.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Strange things began to happen in the Missouri Territory in 1811. Residents along the Mississippi River, near the settlement of New Madrid, began reporting all manner of weird happenings. First, it was the animals. Livestock began to act nervous and excited. Dogs began to bark and howl and even the most domesticated of animals turned vicious. Wild animals began to act tame. Deer wandered out of the woods and up to the doors of cabins. Flocks of ducks and geese landed near people. It was unlike anything the local residents had ever seen before. Soon, stories spread of eerie lights that were seen in the woods and in the hills. Strange, bluish white flashes and balls of light were seen floating in the trees and cresting the nearby ridges.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Perhaps strangest of all, especially to the more superstitious among the settlers, was the comet that had been seen in the sky for months. In the fall of 1811, it was at its brightest and in September of that year, this anomaly in the sky was joined by a solar eclipse that led some to believe that a dire event was coming soon. And they were right.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During the winter of 1811-1812, a series of devastating earthquakes shook the nation. They are known today as the New Madrid earthquakes due to their horrible effects on the small town of New Madrid, Missouri. They caused destruction like never seen, before or since, and gave rise to incredible accounts of bizarre events, including the fact that the Mississippi River actually ran backward for a time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The New Madrid earthquakes had a major effect not only on the Mississippi Valley but on American history. They were also connected to an intriguing supernatural prediction allegedly made by the Shawnee Indian leader, Tecumseh.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: small;">Tecumseh, whose name mean "Shooting Star" or "Panther Across the Sky"</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tecumseh (whose name meant “Shooting Star” or “Panther Across the Sky”) was born in March 1768, just north of present-day Xenia, Ohio. It was a time of a growing America and as white settlers spread westward, violence and bloodshed began to occur as the Americans encroached on Indian territory. Violence continued after the American Revolution. The Wabash Confederacy formed and included all of the major tribes of the Ohio and Illinois country. They joined together in an attempt to keep American settlers out of the region. As the war between the confederacy and the Americans intensified, Tecumseh took an active role, fighting alongside his older brother, Cheeseekua. Tecumseh took part in several battles, including the Battle of Fallen Timbers in 1794, which ended the war in favor of the Americans.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tecumseh settled in what is now Greenville, Ohio, the home of his younger brother, Lowawluwaysica ("One With Open Mouth") who would later take the new name of Tenskwatawa ("The Open Door") and achieve widespread fame as "The Shawnee Prophet." Tenskwatawa began a religious revival among the Shawnee in 1805 when he rooted out the “cause” of a smallpox outbreak by hunting down a witch. His beliefs were based on the teachings of early tribal prophets, who had predicted a coming apocalypse that would destroy the European settlers. A revival of the prophecies became very popular at a time when it seemed the flood of white settlers was going to engulf the Indian lands. Tenskwatawa urged his people to reject the ways of the Europeans, give up firearms, liquor and European- style clothing. He called on them to only pay traders half the value of their debts, and to refrain from giving over any more land to the United States. These teachings created great tension between the settlers and Tenskwatawa’s followers and were openly opposed by Shawnee leader Black Hoof, who was trying to maintain peace with the Americans.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The first record of Tecumseh’s peacetime interactions with Americans was in 1807, when Indian agent William Wells met with Blue Jacket and other Shawnee leaders to determine their intentions after the murder of a settler. Wells was highly respected by the Indians on the frontier Tecumseh was among those who spoke with Wells and assured him that his band of Shawnee intended to remain at peace. He explained to Wells that his people intended to follow the will of the Great Spirit and the teachings of his prophet, Tenskwatawa. They planned to move to a new village, deeper in the frontier and farther away from the newly arriving settlers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But Tenskwatawa and Tecumseh did not leave the region. In fact, Tenskwatawa continued to attract new followers. By 1808, tensions between the settlers and the Shawnee escalated to the point that Black Hoof demanded that Tenskwatawa and his people leave the area. Tecumseh was among the leaders of the group and he helped to decide to move them farther northwest and establish the village of Prophets Town near the confluence of the Wabash and Tippecanoe rivers. The site was in territory that belonged to the Miami Indians and Chief Little Turtle of that tribe warned them not to settle there. Despite the threat, they moved into the region. The Miami did not take action against them and it is believed that Tecumseh may have already been holding council with them to build a large tribal confederacy to counter the American expansion into Indian lands.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Within a short time, Tenskwatawa’s religious teachings became more widely known, as did his predictions of coming doom for the Americans. He attracted numerous members of other tribes to Prophets Town and this formed the basis for the confederacy of southwestern Great Lakes tribes that Tecumseh envisioned. He eventually emerged as the leader of this confederation, although it was largely built on the religious appeal of his younger brother.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In September 1809, William Henry Harrison, at that time governor of the newly formed Indiana Territory, negotiated the Treaty of Fort Wayne in which a delegation of Indians ceded three million acres of Native American lands to the United States. The treaty is largely regarded as a farce. It was not authorized by President Thomas Jefferson and the Indians were not only bribed with large subsidies but were given liberal doses of alcohol before the negotiations began.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tecumseh’s strong opposition to the treaty marked his emergence as a prominent leader. Although Tecumseh and the Shawnee did not lay claim to any of the land that was sold, he was shocked by the sale since many of the followers at Prophets Town, including the Piankeshaw, Kickapoo, and Wea, were the primary inhabitants of the lands in question. Tecumseh reminded the Native Americans of an idea first advanced by the Shawnee leader Blue Jacket years before: that Indian land was owned in common by all tribes and could not be sold without agreement by all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tecumseh was not ready to confront the United States directly, so he instead spoke out against the Indian leaders who had signed the treaty. He began to travel widely, making impassioned speeches in which he urged warriors to abandon the chiefs who had betrayed them and join him in a resistance to the treaty. It was illegal, he insisted, and asked Governor Harrison to nullify it. He warned him that whites should not attempt to settle on the lands that were stolen by the treaty.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In August of 1810, Tecumseh led 400 warriors from Prophets Town to confront Harrison at his home in Vincennes. Their appearance terrified the townspeople and the situation turned heated when Harrison rejected Tecumseh’s demand. The governor argued that individual tribes could have relations with the United States and added that Tecumseh’s interference had angered the tribes who had sold the land.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tecumseh’s anger boiled over and he ordered his men to kill Harrison on the spot. The governor bravely drew his sword, determined to go down fighting. The small garrison that defended the town quickly moved to protect Harrison. Before fighting began, Pottawatomi chief Winnemac stepped forward and urged the warriors to leave in peace. He explained to Tecumseh that violence was not the way to handle the situation and Tecumseh reluctantly agreed. Before he left, however, he told Harrison that unless he rescinded the treaty, he would seek an alliance with the British, who were already at work on the frontier trying to incite the Indians to rise up against the American settlers. As early as 1810, British agents had sought to secure an alliance with the Native Americans tribes to assist in the defense of Canada should war with the United States break out. The Indians had been reluctant to accept, fearing there was no benefit to the alliance. Following the confrontation with Harrison, Tecumseh secretly accepted the offer of alliance and the British began to supply his confederacy with firearms and ammunition.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tecumseh had already attracted a great following but he and his brother, Tenskwatawa, were soon able to rally even more. It was said that Tecumseh claimed that the Great Spirit would send a “sign” to the Native Americans to show that he had been chosen to lead them and in March 1811, a great comet began to appear in the night sky. Tecumseh, whose name meant “Shooting Star,” told his people that the comet signaled his rise to power. The confederacy accepted it as the sign they had been waiting for.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A short time later, Tecumseh again met with William Henry Harrison after being summoned following the murder of settlers on the frontier. Tecumseh told Harrison that the Shawnee and their Native American brothers wanted to remain at peace with the United States but the differences between them had to be resolved. The meeting was likely a ploy to buy time while he built a stronger confederacy. Harrison was not fooled by Tecumseh’s claim of wanting peace. He was more convinced than ever that hostilities were imminent.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the meeting with Harrison, Tecumseh traveled south on a mission to recruit allies among the Cherokee, Choctaw, Creek, Chickasaw and Seminole. Most of the southern nations rejected his appeals, but a faction of the Creeks, who became known as the Red Sticks, answered his call to arms against the white men, leading to the Creek War. They were eventually defeated by General Andrew Jackson in 1814.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While Tecumseh was away in the south, another “miraculous” event occurred that convinced his followers that a war with the Americans was the right course of action. On September 17, 1811, a solar eclipse occurred – a “Black Sun” that was allegedly predicted by the prophet Tenskwatawa. A “Black Sun” was said to predict a future war and Tenskwatawa was believed to have prophesied the coming of the eclipse many weeks before. It is widely believed today that he consulted with an astronomer about the eclipse, but no one knew this at the time. The prediction seemed to be a supernatural one – but it was nothing compared to the one that Tecumseh would make a short time later.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Harrison left the territory for business in Kentucky shortly after the meeting with Tecumseh, leaving John Gibson as acting-governor. Gibson, who had lived among the Miami tribe for many years, was given word about Tecumseh’s plans for war. He immediately called out the militia and sent an emergency letter to Harrison, asking him to return. The militia soon formed and Harrison returned with a small force of army regulars. He had received word from Washington, which authorized him to march up the Wabash River from Vincennes on a preemptive expedition to intimidate Tenskwatawa and his followers and force them to make peace. Tecumseh was still in the south, lobbying tribes to join his confederation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Harrison gathered the militia companies near a settlement north of Vincennes and was joined by a 60-man company from Croydon, Indiana, called the Yellow Jackets, so named for their bright yellow coats, and two companies of Indiana Rangers. His entire force of about 1,000 set out toward Prophets Town. The army reached the site of present-day Terre Haute on October 3. They camped and built Fort Harrison while they waited for supplies to be delivered. On October 10, Indians ambushed a scouting party of Yellow Jackets and prevented the soldiers from hunting in the nearby woods. Supplies began to run low and on October 19, rations were cut. Finally, nine days later, a shipment of food and ammunition arrived and an encampment was set up near the confluence of the Wabash and Tippecanoe rivers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During the early morning hours of November 7, the Native Americans attacked.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Many years later, Tenskwatawa denied that he ordered his warriors to attack Harrison. He blamed the Winnebagos in his camp for launching the attack, or at least encouraging it. Without Tecumseh’s military leadership, his brother was unable to control his followers. The people of Prophets Town were worried by the nearby army and feared being overwhelmed by the white soldiers. They had begun to fortify the town, but the defenses had not been completed. During the evening, Tenskwatawa consulted with the spirits and decided that sending a party to murder Harrison in his tent was the best way to avoid a battle. He assured the warriors that he would cast spells that would prevent them from being harmed and confuse the Americans so they would not resist. The warriors began looking for a way to sneak into the camp but the attack on Harrison failed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Around 4:30 a.m., Harrison’s sentinels were shocked to find warriors advancing on them from the early morning fog. Soldiers awoke to scattered gunshots and discovered themselves almost encircled by Tenskwatawa's forces. First contact was made on the north side of the camp, but this was likely a diversion since fierce fighting broke out moments later as Indians charged the southern corner of the line. The attack took the army by surprise as the warriors shouted and rushed at the defenders. Yellow Jacket commander Captain Speir Spencer was among the first to be killed. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lieutenants McMahan and Berry, the other two Yellow Jacket commanding officers, were also soon wounded and killed. Without leadership, the Yellow Jackets began to fall back from the main line, retreating with scores of militia soldiers. The warriors rushed after them and entered the camp. The soldiers regrouped under the command of Ensign John Tipton, a future U.S. Senator, and with the help of two reserve companies under the command of Captain Rodd, repulsed the warriors and sealed the breach in the line.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The second charge by the Native Americans hit both the north and south ends of the camp, with the southern end being attacked the hardest. The regulars were able to reinforce the line and hold their position as the assaults continued. On the northern end of the camp, Major Joseph Daviess led his men in a counter charge that punched through the Indian lines before being repulsed. Most of the men made it back to Harrison’s line but Daviess was killed. Throughout the next hour, the troops fought off several more brutal charges. When the Indians began to run low on ammunition and the sun rose, revealing the small size of Tenskwatawa's army, they finally began to withdraw. A rallying charge by the regulars forced the remaining Native Americans to flee. The Battle of Tippecanoe had lasted just over two hours.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Indians retreated to Prophets Town where, according to one chief's account, the warriors confronted Tenskwatawa and accused him of deceit because of the many deaths, which his spells were supposed to have prevented. He blamed his wife for desecrating his magic medicine and offered to cast a new spell. He insisted that the warriors launch a second attack, but they refused.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fearing that Tecumseh was on his way with reinforcements, Harrison ordered his men to fortify the camp with earthworks. As the sentries moved back into position, they discovered – and scalped – the bodies of 36 warriors. The following day, November 8, Harrison sent men to inspect the town and found that it was deserted, except for one elderly woman who was too sick to leave. The rest of the defeated Indian forces had left during the night. Harrison ordered the troops to spare the old woman but to burn down Prophets Town and to destroy the Indians’ cooking implements, which would make it hard for the confederacy to survive the winter. Everything of value was taken, including 5,000 bushels of corn and beans. Some of the soldiers dug up bodies from the burial grounds and scalped them. Harrison’s troops buried their own dead on the site of their camp and then built large fires over the mass grave in an attempt to conceal it. However, after Harrison’s troops had departed, the Indians dug up the corpses and scattered the remains in retaliation.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the battle, the wounded soldiers were loaded into wagons and taken to Fort Harrison to recuperate. Most of the militia was released from duty and returned home. In his initial report to Washington, Harrison told of the battle at Tippecanoe and stated that he feared reprisals from the Indians. The first dispatch did not make it clear who had won the engagement and Secretary of War William Eustis at first interpreted it as a defeat. The next dispatch made the American victory clear and spoke of the defeat of Tecumseh’s confederation since no second attack materialized. Eustis replied with a lengthy note demanding to know why Harrison had not taken adequate precautions in fortifying his camp. Harrison responded that he considered the position strong enough to not require fortification. The dispute was the start of a disagreement between Harrison and the Department of War that later caused him to resign from the army in 1814. But the battle certainly did not damage his reputation. When he ran for President of the United States during the election of 1840, he used the slogan "Tippecanoe and Tyler Too" to remind people of his heroism during the battle.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Accounts vary as to the immediate effect the loss had on Tenskwatawa. Some reports claimed that he lost much of his prestige after the battle because his claims that the warriors could not be hurt proved to be untrue. During meetings with Harrison after the battle, several tribal leaders claimed that his influence was destroyed. However, some historians believe that this was likely an attempt to mislead Harrison and calm the situation and that Tenskwatawa actually continued to play an important role in the confederacy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Massacres of settlers became commonplace in the aftermath of the battle. Numerous homes and settlements in the Indiana and Illinois territories were attacked, leading to the deaths of many residents. Prophets Town was partially rebuilt over the next year, but was again destroyed in another campaign against the Indians in 1812. The Battle of Tippecanoe was a serious blow to Tecumseh's dream of a confederacy. When he returned from his travels, Tecumseh was angry with his brother, whom he had instructed to keep peace.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tecumseh continued to play a major role in military operations on the frontier, however, and by 1812 the confederacy and Tecumseh had regained some of their former strength. Many believe that this resurgence in power was in large part thanks to the events that occurred along the Mississippi River in the winter of 1811-1812.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the spring and summer of 1811, Tecumseh began traveling to villages in the Midwest and the South, urging the tribes to join his confederacy. Many warriors joined him, although others ignored his pleas, doubting that he would succeed. One Alabama tribe, whose camp along the Mississippi River Tecumseh visited in November, even treated him with contempt. This angered Tecumseh so much that he told them that when he returned to his home, he would stomp on the ground and cause their village to fall down. They laughed at him – but it seemed that Tecumseh’s threat was fulfilled a few weeks later.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On December 16, the devastating New Madrid Earthquake shook the South and the Midwest. Some of the Alabama tribe believed that Tecumseh’s supernatural power actually caused the earth to shake while others believed he prophesied that the event would occur. While the interpretation of this event varied from tribe to tribe, one consensus was universally accepted: the powerful earthquake had to have meant something. For many tribes it meant that Tecumseh was a powerful leader and must be supported.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When the earthquakes began, Tecumseh was at the Shawnee and Delaware Indian villages near Cape Girardeau, Missouri, fifty miles north of the epicenter at New Madrid. The earthquakes continued as he traveled back to Prophets Town. He arrived there in February 1812 and by that time, word of his mysterious prediction had spread and more allies had flocked to his cause. Despite the setback of the battle, Tecumseh began to rebuild the confederacy.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He soon led his forces to join the British army as they invaded northwest from Canada. Tecumseh joined British Major-General Sir Isaac Brock in the siege of Detroit and forced its surrender in August 1812. This victory was reversed a little over a year later, as Commodore Oliver Hazard Perry's victory on Lake Erie, late in the summer of 1813, cut British supply lines and forced them to withdraw. The British burned all public buildings in Detroit and retreated into Upper Canada along the Thames Valley. Tecumseh and his men followed fighting rearguard actions to slow the American advance.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A second British commander, Major-General Henry Proctor, did not fare as well with Tecumseh as his predecessor did and the two disagreed over tactics. Proctor favored withdrawing into Canada when the Americans faced a harsh winter. Tecumseh, however, was eager to launch an offensive that would ravage the American army and allow his warriors to return home to the northwest regions. Proctor failed to appear at Chatham, Ontario, though he promised Tecumseh that he would attack the Americans there. Tecumseh moved his men to meet Proctor and told him that he would withdraw no further. If the British continued to want his help, then fighting needed to be carried out. William Henry Harrison crossed into upper Canada on October 5, 1813 and won a victory against the British and their Native American allies at the Battle of Thames. Tecumseh was killed, and shortly after the battle the tribes of his confederacy surrendered to Harrison at Detroit.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tecumseh remains an enigmatic figure today. He is seen as a hero to many, refusing to give in to the overwhelming wave of white settlement. But in his time, he was greatly feared as a killer of innocents and a hindrance to the development of the country. What he actually was remains in the eye of the beholder.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But one question still baffles us: did Tecumseh predict the New Madrid Earthquake or did he cause it? Or was it merely a coincidence that he threatened to “shake the earth” and it actually happened a short time later? Or was the story of his eerie prophecy invented after the fact to add credence to his claim that the Great Spirit wanted him to lead the Native American confederacy in its fight against white expansion?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">We may never really know.</span>Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-73843556133385118132016-11-07T14:04:00.000-06:002016-11-07T14:04:00.724-06:00LINCOLN'S PORTENT OF DOOM<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Election Day 1860</span></b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On November 6, 1860, former Illinois congressman Abraham Lincoln defeated three other candidates for the American presidency: John Breckenridge, John Bell and Stephen Douglas and became the most beloved -- and most hated -- president in American history. And later that night, experienced an eerie vision that he believed was a premonition of the future.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In November 1860, Lincoln was home in Springfield, Illinois. The city had a carnival-like atmosphere and Election Day dawned with rousing cannon blasts, with music and contagious excitement. Lincoln spent the day and evening with friends at the telegraph office. By midnight, it was clear that he had been elected President of the United States. A late night dinner was held in his honor and then he returned to the office for more news. Guns fired in celebration throughout the night.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lincoln finally managed to return home in the early morning hours although news of victory and telegrams of congratulations were still being wired to his office. He went into his bedroom for some much needed rest and collapsed onto a settee. Near the couch was a large bureau with a mirror on it and Lincoln stared for a moment at his reflection in the glass. His face appeared angular, thin and tired. Several of his friends suggested that he grow a beard, which would hide the narrowness of his face and give him a more “presidential” appearance. Lincoln pondered this for a moment and then experienced what many would term a “vision” --- an odd vision that Lincoln would later believe had prophetic meaning.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He saw in the mirror, that his face appeared to have two separate, yet distinct, images. The tip of one nose was about three inches away from the tip of the other one. The vision vanished but appeared again a few moments later. It was clearer this time and Lincoln realized that one of the faces was actually much paler than the other, almost with the coloring of death. The vision disappeared again and Lincoln dismissed the whole thing to the excitement of the hour and his lack of sleep.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The next morning, he told Mary of the strange vision and attempted to conjure it up again in the days that followed. The faces always returned to him and while Mary never saw them, she believed her husband when he said that he did. She also believed she knew the significance of the vision. The healthy face was her husband’s “real” face and indicated that he would serve his first term as president. The pale, ghostly image of the second face however was a sign that he would be elected to a second term --- but would not live to see its conclusion.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lincoln dismissed the whole thing as a hallucination, or an imperfection in the glass, or so he said publicly. Later, that strange vision would come back to haunt him during the turbulent days of the war. It was not Lincoln’s only brush with prophecy either. One day, shortly before the election, he spoke to some friends as they were discussing the possibilities of Civil War. “Gentlemen,” he said to them, “you may be surprised and think it strange, but when the doctor here was describing a war, I distinctly saw myself, in second sight, bearing an important part in that strife.”</span><br />
<br />Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-87449634947189619372016-11-04T08:23:00.000-05:002016-11-04T08:23:30.617-05:00THE CURSED LIFE OF MARY LINCOLN<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A Story of Sadness, Spiritualism and Sorrow</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On November 4, 1842, future president Abraham
Lincoln married Mary Todd in Springfield, Illinois. It was a complicated and
often turbulent marriage, but Mary remained devoted to Abraham throughout his
entire life – and even after his death. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OxvU-D4DYmw/WByK-mmspmI/AAAAAAAAEzw/26k1DpeYkFwZE7qKSLPBbD4prOAnkLiRwCLcB/s1600/mary%2Blincoln%2Bblog%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-OxvU-D4DYmw/WByK-mmspmI/AAAAAAAAEzw/26k1DpeYkFwZE7qKSLPBbD4prOAnkLiRwCLcB/s400/mary%2Blincoln%2Bblog%2B1.jpg" width="257" /></span></b></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">A young Mary Todd, who Lincoln fell in love with in Springfield and married in 1842</span></b></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The two met at a Christmas party in Springfield
in 1839. They were attracted to each other from the start. Mary’s sister soon
noted with disapproval that when Lincoln would call, he would sit in rapt
attention to everything Mary said. She believed the young man, who the wealthy
family considered to be unsuitable, was paying far too much attention to Mary.
Mary seemed to be returning his attentions for a time, but the following year
found her still being courted by other men (including Lincoln’s rival, Stephen
Douglas) and Lincoln still pining away after her. At the close of the year, he
made his decision, he would marry her. Whether or not Lincoln formally proposed
to her or not, Mary promised to become his wife. For some reason, though, on
New Year’s Day 1841, Lincoln decided to break off the engagement.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some have speculated that Lincoln was intrigued
by the idea of marriage, but afraid of it also. He feared his loss of freedom
but was unsure that he wanted to live without Mary. His friend and law partner,
William Herndon, noted that Lincoln was acting as “crazy as a loon”. He didn’t
eat, he didn’t sleep, he let his work slide and refused to meet and dine with
friends. Another friend, Dr. Anson Henry, suggested that Lincoln take a trip
out of town and try to ease his state of mind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A short time before, one of Lincoln’s closest
friends, Joshua Speed, had moved to Louisville, Kentucky and so Lincoln decided
to travel there and stay with him for a little while. Unfortunately, things
were no better for him in Louisville. Speed was also in the midst of a
turbulent relationship with a local woman named Fanny Henning. After a short
visit, Speed returned to Springfield with Lincoln and wrapped up his business
affairs to move to Kentucky permanently. He would soon be marrying Fanny, but
he left his good friend with one piece of advice: either give up Mary for good
or marry her and be done with it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the summer of 1842, Lincoln again turned his
attentions to Mary Todd. A friend cleverly arranged a surprise dinner so the
two of them would meet again and it worked. By November, marriage was on
Lincoln’s mind again. In fact, it was so much on his mind that on the morning
of November 4, he and Mary announced they were going to be married --- that
same evening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Their friends were in great haste to make the
preparations, surprised by the announcement. There was no time for Joshua Speed
to travel from Kentucky, so Lincoln asked another friend, James Matheny, to
stand in as best man. Matheny would later write that during the ceremony,
Lincoln “looked and acted like a lamb being led to the slaughter.” While he was
getting dressed, his landlord’s son asked him where he was going and Lincoln
answered, “To Hell, I suppose.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Despite the haste in making arrangements and
Lincoln’s obvious foreboding, the ceremony proceeded without a hitch and
Lincoln was now a husband.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Lincolns had their honeymoon at the Globe
Tavern, where they lived during the first years of their marriage. There was
every indication that their marriage was a happy one, despite Mary losing track
of her socialite friends and her sister’s warnings that her husband was
unsuitable. It was not long before they were expecting their first child and
Robert was born just three days short of nine months after the wedding.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During the Civil War and the Lincoln’s years in
the White House, their son Willie died, a loss from which Mary never recovered.
It was during this time that she turned to Spiritualism and séances began to be
held at the White House. Mary seemed to feel great relief from her contact with
the dead but later, after Lincoln was assassinated and Spiritualism fell out of
popular favor (it would revive again in the early 1900s), Spiritualism would
become her undoing. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For months after Lincoln’s death, Mary spoke of
nothing but the assassination until her friends began to drift away, their
sympathy at a breaking point. She began to accuse her husband’s friends and his
Cabinet members of complicity in the murder, from his bodyguards to Andrew
Johnson.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mary lay in her bed for 40 days after the
assassination and in the years that followed, she deteriorated mentally and
physically into a bitter old woman who wore nothing but black mourning clothing
for the rest of her life. Her attachment to Spiritualism turned into a
dangerous obsession, reaching a point where she could not function without aid
from her “spirit guides.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mary had a great fear of poverty. She often
begged her friends to help her with money. Unlike the widows of generals and
governors, for whom money was easily raised, Mary’s handful of supporters found
it impossible to raise funds on her behalf because she was just too unpopular.
In fact, she was despised across America. Newspapers wrote unflattering stories
about her and she was ridiculed by members of Washington society. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1868, she abandoned America and took her son
Tad to live in Germany. They lived there in hiding for three years before
coming home. In July 1870, Congress approved a lifetime pension for Mrs.
Lincoln of $3,000 per year. This pension awaited her when she returned to
America, as did an inheritance from Lincoln’s estate. She was finally wealthy
woman. This fear was over, but heartbreak soon followed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Travel and an ocean crossing had dire
circumstances for Tad. He developed tuberculosis and his health began to fail.
He lingered for many weeks and then died in July 1871. Tad’s death, which
followed the death of two other children and her husband, further aggravated
Mary’s grief, which was enhanced by her previous history of mental instability.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mary turned to the only thing that she believed
that she had left – Spiritualism. For a time, she moved into a commune, where
she began to develop her psychic “gifts,” which enabled her to see “spirit
faces” and “communicate beyond the veil.” She claimed to have daily
conversations with her late husband. Many took advantage of her, tricking her
out of money and using her name to promote their own “abilities.” One of these
was so-called “spirit photographer” William Mumler, who produced thousands of
blatantly fake photographs of ghosts during his infamous career. Although he
claimed not to recognize Mary when she called at his studio, he “miraculously”
managed to produce a photo of her and her late husband by deft manipulation of
the photographic plates. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEzzmar5eTE/WByK-oCTmMI/AAAAAAAAEz0/bpE94XQOBMMHqp5yVLQSNTfM-zSQyunBwCEw/s1600/mary%2Blincoln%2Bblog%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-wEzzmar5eTE/WByK-oCTmMI/AAAAAAAAEz0/bpE94XQOBMMHqp5yVLQSNTfM-zSQyunBwCEw/s400/mary%2Blincoln%2Bblog%2B2.jpg" width="247" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">The infamous photograph taken by William Mumler, which Mary believed showed the phantom image of her late husband. Although Mumler claimed that he had no idea who the veiled woman was who visited his studio that day -- until the moment she removed the veil, that is -- Mumler was a notorious fraud, who produced thousands of blatantly fake "spirit" photographs.</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mary’s sole surviving son, Robert, a rising
young Chicago lawyer, was alarmed as his mother's behavior became increasingly
erratic. In March 1875, during a visit to Jacksonville, Florida, Mary became
absolutely convinced that Robert was deathly ill. She traveled to Chicago to
find him in fine health. On her arrival, she told her son that someone had
tried to poison her on the train and that a “wandering Jew” had taken her
pocketbook but would return it later. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While staying with Robert in Chicago, Mary spent
money lavishly on useless items, such as draperies that she never hung and
elaborate dresses that she never wore, due to the fact that she only wore black
after her husband's assassination. She often walked around the city with
$56,000 in government bonds sewn into her petticoats. She was afraid of banks
and still feared losing all her money. After Mary had an “episode” during which
it was feared she would jump out of the window to escape a non-existent fire,
the family began to feel that she was going insane.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fearing that his mother was a danger to herself,
Robert was left with no choice but to have Mary committed to a psychiatric
hospital in Batavia, Illinois in 1875. After the court proceedings had ended,
Mary was so enraged that she attempted suicide. She went to the hotel
pharmacist and ordered enough laudanum to kill herself. However, the pharmacist
caught on to her plans and substituted the drug with a harmless liquid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On May 20, 1875, she arrived at Bellevue Place,
a private, upscale sanitarium in the Fox River Valley. With his mother in the
hospital, Robert Lincoln was left with control of Mary Lincoln's finances. By
this time, Robert was wealthy in his own right and had no plans for his
mother’s money, which Mary refused to understand. She was sure that he planned
to steal everything from her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Three months after being installed in Bellevue
Place, Mary Lincoln engineered her escape. She smuggled letters to her lawyer and
his wife, who was not only her friend but also a feminist lawyer and fellow
Spiritualist. She also wrote to the editor of the Chicago Times, known for its
sensational journalism. Soon, the public embarrassments Robert had hoped to
avoid were looming, and his character and motives were in question. The
director of Bellevue, who at Mary’s trial had assured the jury she would
benefit from treatment at his facility, now in the face of potentially damaging
publicity declared her well enough to go to Springfield to live with her sister
as she desired. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mary was released into the custody of her
sister, Mrs. Elizabeth Edwards, in Springfield and in 1876 was once again
declared competent to manage her own affairs. The committal proceedings led to
Mary severing all ties with Robert. She called him a “wicked monster” and
despised him for the rest of her life. Before she died, she wrote spiteful
letters to him, cursing him and telling him that his father had never really
loved him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mary went into exile again and moved into a
small hotel in France. Her eyes were weakened by cataracts and her body was
wracked with pain from severe arthritis. She refused to travel back to the
United States until several bad falls left her nearly unable to walk. Her
sister pleaded with her to come home and finally she returned to Springfield,
moving into the Edwards house, the same house where she and Lincoln had been
married years before.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mary lived the last years of her life in a
single room, wearing a money belt to protect her fortune. She kept all of the
shades in her room drawn and spent her days packing and unpacking her 64 crates
of clothing. She died in July 1882 at the age of 63 – a faded shell of the
exuberant young socialite that she had once been and a sad victim of the Lincoln
assassination who found herself cursed to live for 17 years after the death of
her beloved husband.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-80793022830956324622016-11-03T10:11:00.000-05:002016-11-03T10:11:34.532-05:00“GIVE ‘EM HELL” HARRY VS. THE HAUNTS<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Harry Truman and the Haunted White House</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just three days after the 1948 election,
President-Elect Harry S. Truman stepped off a train in St. Louis and, with a
large grin on his face, held up a copy of the November 3 edition of the <i>Chicago Tribune</i> for reporters and
photographers to see. The bold headline on the front page read DEWEY DEFEATS
TRUMAN – the newspaper had most definitely gotten the story wrong. The headline
became known as the most infamous blunder in American newspaper history. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5JtPE-IjptU/WBtTQlPMXQI/AAAAAAAAEzY/sNWUH4EZaisxlhxEI7JyeiE3aDyHmpZ-gCLcB/s1600/truman%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="246" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-5JtPE-IjptU/WBtTQlPMXQI/AAAAAAAAEzY/sNWUH4EZaisxlhxEI7JyeiE3aDyHmpZ-gCLcB/s400/truman%2B1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The <i>Tribune</i>,
which had once referred to Truman as a “nincompoop,” was a notoriously
Republican-leaning paper but, to be fair, the erroneous headline had nothing to
do with national politics. For almost a year before the 1948 election, the
printers who operated the linotype machines at newspapers all over Chicago had
been on strike. Around the same time, the <i>Tribune</i>
had switched to a method in which copy for the paper was composed on
typewriters, photographed, and then engraved onto printing plates. This process
required the paper to go to press several hours earlier than usual. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On election night, the earlier press deadline
required the first post-election issue of the <i>Tribune</i> to go to press before even the states on the East Coast had
reported all the results from polling places. The paper relied on its veteran
Washington correspondent and political analyst Arthur Sears Henning for a
prediction of the winner. Henning had correctly picked the winner in four out of
fine presidential contests over the past 20 years. The scuttlebutt in
Washington, based on the polls, was that a win by Thomas Dewey was “inevitable.”
The New York Governor, almost everyone believed, would easily win the election.
The first edition of the <i>Tribune</i> for
November 3 therefore went to press with the banner headline DEWEY DEFEATS
TRUMAN.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The story
that accompanied it, written by Henning, reported that Dewey “won a sweeping
victory in the presidential election yesterday.” He also noted that Republicans
would now control both the Senate and the House of Representatives and that
Dewey “won the presidency by an overwhelming majority of the electoral vote.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As returns began to indicate a close race later
in the evening, Henning continued to stick to his prediction. It was simply too
late to turn back now – thousands of papers were rolling off the presses with the
headline that predicted Dewey’s victory. Even after the paper’s lead story was
rewritten to emphasize local races and to indicate the narrowness of Dewey’s
lead in the national race, the same banner headline was left on the front page.
Only late in the evening, after press dispatches began to cast doubt on Dewey’s
victory, did the <i>Tribune</i> change the
headline to DEMOCRATS MAKE SWEEP OF STATE OFFICES for the later edition. Some
150,000 copies of the paper had already been printed before the mistake was
corrected. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As it turned out, Truman won the electoral vote
by a 303 – 189 – 39 majority over Dewey and third candidate Strom Thurmond. Instead
of a Republican sweep of the White House and retention of both houses of
Congress, the Democrats not only won the Presidency, but also took control of
the Senate and the House of Representatives. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Harry Truman was on his way back to the White
House – a place that he already knew was infested with ghosts.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gh_VNvzTZLU/WBtTZ_YGnaI/AAAAAAAAEzc/R7kON4cWyOEeXZDuf-UqsxI2vsgLzt2UwCLcB/s1600/white%2Bhouse%2Bspooky.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="302" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-gh_VNvzTZLU/WBtTZ_YGnaI/AAAAAAAAEzc/R7kON4cWyOEeXZDuf-UqsxI2vsgLzt2UwCLcB/s400/white%2Bhouse%2Bspooky.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">According to a number of former presidents,
their families, and their staffs, there are many ghosts to be found in the
White House. Most notable among the resident spirits are former chief
executives Andrew Jackson and Abraham Lincoln. Of course, these phantoms do not
walk the halls alone, but Lincoln is especially active in a place where he
suffered not only the psychological trauma of the country tearing itself apart
during the Civil War, but where he lost his beloved son, Willie, to an unknown
ailment. Perhaps for this reason, he has become the most frequently encountered
spirit at the White House. Theodore Roosevelt admitted to friends that he had
encountered Lincoln’s ghost. Grace Coolidge once insisted that she had seen
Lincoln’s ghost walking through a doorway on the second floor. President
Herbert Hoover described to friends “fantastic” strange noises that he heard
coming from the other side of the door to the Lincoln bedroom. Lady Bird
Johnson and Jackie Kennedy both encountered the mournful spirit, as did Eleanor
Roosevelt and several members of her staff. Queen Wilhelmina of the
Netherlands, who stayed at the White House during World War II, surprised
President Franklin D. Roosevelt, and several cocktail party guests, one evening
when she told them of seeing Lincoln in her bedroom. Prime Minister Winston Churchill
never discussed Lincoln’s ghost, but always stayed in the Lincoln Bedroom when
visiting the White House. One morning, though, he was discovered sleeping in a
room across the hall. He had moved in the middle of the night. He refused to
tell anyone what had frightened him out of his usual quarters. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Of all the presidents who encountered the
spirits of the White House, however, the best-known was Harry Truman. His
daughter, Margaret, also saw Lincoln’s ghost walking down a second-floor
corridor, just as many others had in years past. Truman made no bones about the
fact that he believed the White House to be haunted. He once recalled an
incident that took place in the early morning hours, about one year after he
took office. He was awakened that night by knocking on his bedroom door. He got
out of bed, went to the door and opened it, but found that no one was in the
hallway. Suddenly, the air around him felt icy cold but the chill quickly faded
as President Truman heard footsteps moving away from him down the corridor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He later wrote to his wife, Bess, who often
stayed at their family home in Missouri because she didn’t like Washington, and
stated that, “I sit in this old house, all the while listening to the ghosts
walk up and down the hallway. At four o’clock, I was awakened by three distinct
knocks on my bedroom door. No one was there. Damned place is haunted, sure as
shootin’!”</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-7206363404643518892016-11-02T11:12:00.000-05:002016-11-02T11:12:55.841-05:00THE FIRST LADY'S SEANCES<div class="MsoNormal" style="line-height: normal; margin-bottom: .0001pt; margin-bottom: 0in;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Weird White House Days with Florence Harding</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Stories of ghosts, hauntings, and séances have
long swirled about the White House. The spirits of several former presidents
are rumored to walk the halls of this stately building. Many of those presidents
expressed an interest in Spiritualism and the occult, including Franklin Pierce
and Abraham Lincoln, during their lifetimes, and others claimed to witness the
spirits of their predecessors while in office. A few of the First Ladies who
accompanied their husbands into office also had connections to the
supernatural. Mary Lincoln was famous for the séances that she attended after
the death of her son, Willie, and her devout in Spiritualism after the death of
her husband. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But there is no First lady who was more expert
on the occult, or believed more thoroughly in the supernatural, than Florence
Harding, wife of scandal-battered President Warren G. Harding. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z8azwhPxZDU/WBoPOYmqr9I/AAAAAAAAEy4/DzW-7V-1XZw53cbdsWYPrZCC_rmb4ngZQCLcB/s1600/harding%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="290" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-Z8azwhPxZDU/WBoPOYmqr9I/AAAAAAAAEy4/DzW-7V-1XZw53cbdsWYPrZCC_rmb4ngZQCLcB/s400/harding%2B1.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">First Lady Florence Harding</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During his time in office, Harding was a popular
president, but his reputation was tarnished after his death when Americans
learned of the corruption that occurred during his administration. Even though
Harding himself was never accused of criminal wrongdoing, it was during this
time that the Teapot Dome Scandal came to light. The incident involved
Secretary of State Albert Fall, who rented public lands to oil companies in
exchange for bribes and gifts. He was later convicted and served less than a
year in prison. Other government officials took payoffs and embezzled funds.
Harding himself allegedly had extramarital affairs and drank alcohol in the
White House in violation of the Prohibition laws. Harding died in a San
Francisco hotel in 1923 under strange circumstances. The White House initially
said he died from food poisoning, another physician stated that it was due to a
cerebral hemorrhage, and still another claimed that it was a heart attack.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Still others claimed that Mrs. Harding herself
may have had a hand in her husband’s death. She refused to allow an autopsy on
her husband. Since Harding died in California, a state without a mandatory
autopsy law, even the president could not be examined without his wife’s
consent. Several conspiracy theorists began to wonder what she was hiding. One rumor
stated that the president, depressed and fearing impeachment once the scandals
in his administration came to light, committed suicide. Another claimed that
Mrs. Harding had poisoned him, either to prevent the humiliation of scandal
from the wrong-doers who worked for him, or out of revenge for his many marital
indiscretions, including a long-time affair with a woman named Nan Britton, who
bore a child with Harding out of wedlock. Still others dismissed such stories
and said that Harding merely died from a stroke. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The true cause of Harding’s death remains a
mystery, but at least one person tried to discover what happened to him in the
days that followed his demise. That person was his wife, Florence Harding, who
tried very hard to hold a conversation with his spirit while his body was still
lying in state in the White House.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sunp6Do0B_M/WBoPOenqJYI/AAAAAAAAEy0/7VOwhhcelBwfMk1LdexTvaAw83Rh_emvACEw/s1600/harding%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="248" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Sunp6Do0B_M/WBoPOenqJYI/AAAAAAAAEy0/7VOwhhcelBwfMk1LdexTvaAw83Rh_emvACEw/s400/harding%2B2.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">President Warren G. Harding</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Warren Harding had been born in Ohio on November
2, 1865. After college, he got into the newspaper business in Marion, Ohio, and
quickly converted the editorial platform to support the Republican party. He
enjoyed some success until he began to clash with local political leaders,
especially real estate magnate Amos Hall Kling. He attracted a lot of unwanted
attention, but refused to give up the fight, eventually making his paper the
largest in the region. On July 8, 1891, Harding married Florence Mable Kling
DeWolfe, a tall, mannish-looking divorcee – and daughter of political enemy,
Amos Hall Kling. When he heard the news, he disowned his daughter and even
prevented his wife from attending their wedding. He spent the next eight years
in opposition of the marriage, refusing to speak to his daughter or son-in-law.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Florence quickly took control of the Harding
marriage. It became her business sense that made Harding a financial, and then
political, success. She ran the newspaper with crisp efficiency and plotted
Harding’s rather unlikely political ascent. She pushed him into state politics
in the late 1890s, serving in the Ohio Senate for four years before winning
election as the Lieutenant Governor. His time in office was undistinguished and
he returned to private life in 1905. But Florence did not let him stay there
for long. In 1912, she wrangled him the chance to give the nominating speech
for incumbent President William Taft at the Republican convention. In 1914,
with the help of political boss Harry Daughtery, Harding was elected to the
U.S. Senate. During his time in the Senate, Harding missed over two-thirds of
the roll calls and votes, compiling one of the worst records in history. He
introduced only 134 bills, none of them significant. But Harding was an affable
man and was always well-liked by his colleagues. He was a loyal party man and
worked to keep harmony. This turned out to be a great help to him in 1920, when
a dead-locked Republican convention turned to Harding as a compromise candidate
for the presidency. After a particularly nasty campaign (the first to ever
shine light on the candidate’s sex life), Harding won the election by a wide
margin.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His administration soon became riddled by
scandal and corruption. Florence may have pushed her husband into the White
House, but she had no idea what awaited him there. In that way, at least, her
belief in spirits and signs didn’t help her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Florence had always believed in spirits, omens,
and curses. Some believe that she came by those beliefs from the German
immigrant families who rented farms owned by her father in Ohio, or perhaps it
came from her visits to Spiritualist camps in Indiana in the late 1800s. She
read tarot cards and believed in bad luck. In the White House, she became
agitated if a maid placed a pair of shoes on a bed, believing that it brought
bad luck. A niece later told a story of Florence gazing up into the night sky,
identifying the constellations and explaining that the only aspect of life that
could truly be relied upon was what messages were given to us by the formations
of the stars. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It's no surprise that Florence turned to the supernatural
for guidance. Her life was one of abuse – by her first husband, her father, and
even by her husband, who carried on with other women right under her nose. She
also suffered from a chronic kidney ailment that made her life painful and her
lifespan unknown. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jJjra7PFPCw/WBoPOmawRGI/AAAAAAAAEzA/XACf3iwl-4kRjzu2VeNMjABeWqx9copbwCEw/s1600/harding%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="311" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-jJjra7PFPCw/WBoPOmawRGI/AAAAAAAAEzA/XACf3iwl-4kRjzu2VeNMjABeWqx9copbwCEw/s400/harding%2B3.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">Florence and Warren Harding at the White House</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When Florence arrived at the White House, she
threw herself into the job of First Lady. She opened the mansion and the
grounds to the public again – both had been closed during President Wilson’s
illness – and began organizing social events for veterans, women’s groups, and
various dignitaries. Among those with open invitations to the White House were
Spiritualists, mediums, and psychics. Spiritualism had become a popular
movement again after World War I, and séances were widely attended across the
country. Critics of the Harding administration openly complained about the
parade of psychics that were meeting with the First Lady. Harry Houdini, who
appeared before a congressional committee to ask for laws against
fortune-tellers and fraudulent mediums, even said that he’d heard “on rather
good authority that they held séances in the White House.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ironically, though, neither Warren or Florence
Harding were ashamed of the fact that Florence believed in spirits or
astrology. For his part, Harding never criticized his wife’s beliefs nor
attempted to prevent her seeking guidance from them, even when her beliefs were
exposed during the 1920 presidential election. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Among the many mediums and astrologers that Florence
consulted, the one who played the biggest role in her life was a woman named
Marcia Chaumprey, who used the professional name of “Madame Marcia.” After
Florence became First lady, Chaumprey would often go into clairvoyant trances
so that she could warn about administration officials who she sensed were
involved in malfeasance or plotted against the president. Her primary service
to Florence, though, was to interpret the zodiac for her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OwrGhON8n3M/WBoPOgTeUmI/AAAAAAAAEzE/H0kjkq2fZh0uC2xvY8tEt5ocEaY7ASAgwCEw/s1600/harding%2B4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-OwrGhON8n3M/WBoPOgTeUmI/AAAAAAAAEzE/H0kjkq2fZh0uC2xvY8tEt5ocEaY7ASAgwCEw/s400/harding%2B4.jpg" width="223" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><b><span style="font-size: x-small;">A 1938<i> Liberty</i> magazine illustration showing Madame Marcia working on the Harding zodiac chart.</span></b></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During the 1920 presidential primary, Florence
was introduced to “Madame Marcia” by her closest friend, Evalyn Walsh McLean,
owner of the infamous Hope Diamond. Chaumprey also met with the wives of three
U.S. Senators, veiled for anonymity, and was presented with each of their
husband’s birth place, time and dates, seeking to determine which of them would
be most likely to win the election. Chaumprey determined that Harding would be
nominated and win the general election, but at the cost of his life. This
prediction – although not the sole reason – did influence Harding’s decision to
run for president. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was Florence who tipped off the press corps
about having consulted an astrologer. She announced at the 1920 Republican
National Convention that, “If my husband is elected, I can see but one word
hanging over his head – Tragedy! Tragedy!” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Once Florence was in the White House, she would
send her Secret Service agent, Harry Barker, to bring Madame Marcia from her
home. Hoping to spare her husband any embarrassment, she always had her brought
in by the West Wing entrance, where the visitor’s book was not always signed.
This was, as it turned out, not Marcia’s first time in the White House. The
previous First Lady had also consulted her. Edith Galt met Madame Marcia in
1914 and the medium told her that she would someday become a member of the presidential
family and live in the White House. Mrs. Galt told her that if the prediction
turned out to be true, Marcia would be invited to the White House for further
consultations. After the widow met and married President Woodrow Wilson, she
was true to her word. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As was allegedly predicted, President Harding
did die during his presidency. Florence endured the long train ride from San
Francisco to Washington with her husband’s body and on the first night that the
flag-draped casket was resting in the East Room, Florence asked her friend,
Evalyn McLean, to descend the grand staircase with her so that she could “speak”
with her dead husband. The flag was removed by White House staff members and
the casket was opened, so that husband and wife could converse face-to-face. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Whether Harding ever apologized to Florence for
his many transgressions from beyond the grave is unknown. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After Harding’s funeral, his body was returned
to Marion, Ohio, where he was laid to rest. Florence followed him to the grave,
dying on November 21, 1924, surviving her husband by little more than a year of
illness, sorrow, and pain. </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-85631989880629177302016-10-27T07:40:00.000-05:002016-10-27T07:40:59.735-05:00"MRS. SATAN" FOR AMERICA<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>The Ghostly Story of the First Woman to Run for President</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1872, American history changed forever when a woman named Victoria Woodhull became the first woman to try and become President of the United States. She had an uphill battle ahead of her. As a woman, she wasn’t even allowed to vote. If elected, she would have been too young at the age of 34 to serve, but it didn’t matter because she only received a handful of votes. Even her running mate, Frederick Douglass, voted for President Ulysses S. Grant. On Election Day, she was in jail for slandering the most famous minister in the country.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Victoria Woodhull, the first American woman nominated for the presidency -- and practicing Spiritualist medium</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When Hillary Clinton was nominated as the Democratic Party’s choice for the presidency in 2016, Victoria Woodhull, a largely forgotten novelty in the historical record, was suddenly in the spotlight for the first time in more than a century and a half. She began to be lauded for her trailblazing advocacy of woman’s rights – including the movement for “free love” and divorce – and her work in the suffrage movement of the day. But what most people neglect to mention is that Victoria Woodhull didn’t achieve her greatest notoriety as a presidential nominee, but rather as a Spiritualist medium who started the first female brokerage firm on Wall Street by charging some of the nation’s wealthiest men to contact the dead.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When someone once asked shipping magnate, financier, and railroad tycoon Cornelius Vanderbilt for financial advice, he replied, “Do as I do, consult the spirits!” His conduit between this world and the next was Victoria Woodhull.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Born Victoria Clafflin in Homer, Ohio, in September 1838, her childhood was a nightmare. Her mother was an eccentric who had “memorized the Bible backward and forward.” Her father was a con artist who abused his family and was one described by a neighbor as a “one-eyed, one-man crime spree.” He fled town after allegedly burning down his own mill for the insurance money and stealing petty cash from the post office. Locals took up a collection so that his family could follow after him. Victoria was the seventh of ten children, four of whom did not live to adulthood. She had only a few years of formal education before being put to work in her father’s traveling medicine show. She and her younger sister, Tennessee, gave séances, performed as fortune tellers, and sold fake elixirs to the gullible. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At age 15, she was married for the first time to a drunken, philandering physician named Canning Woodhull. They had two children together, but divorced in 1864. She later married two more times. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1868, Victoria and Tennessee moved to New York City, where business and industry were growing rapidly in the years after the Civil War. Millionaires were being made in the shipping, construction, and railroad businesses, and through a series of fortunate coincidences that put the sisters in the right place at the right time, they met tycoon Cornelius Vanderbilt. He was the richest man in America, had an eye for beautiful women, and was obsessed with contacting his late mother. Victoria soon became his personal spirit medium. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Cornelius Vanderbilt, Victoria's wealthy benefactor</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Within two years, using the stock advice that was gleaned from the “spirits” during her séances with Vanderbilt, Victoria and Tennessee became known as the “lady brokers.” Vanderbilt helped them to establish a stock brokerage office, the first of its kind for women of that era. The sisters did very well financially and realized a sizable profit. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With some of their earnings, they established a weekly newspaper that was designed to cast attention on topics that were of interest to feminists of the time, such as equal rights and suffrage. In 1871, Victoria and her political positions had become so well-known that she appeared before the House Judiciary Committee to speak on behalf of women’s rights. In doing so, she became the first women to ever testify before a congressional committee. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But her stance on women’s rights was not what earned her the nickname of “Mrs. Satan.” That came about because of her support of another controversial topic of the time: free love. She believed in the right of a woman “to love who I want for as long as I want,” then to divorce. Under the law, she said, marriage for women was slavery. By the age of 31, she was a millionaire, but when she walked into Delmonico’s restaurant without a male escort, she was refused a seat. She tried to vote in 1871, claiming that the 14th Amendment guaranteed women that right. As she had told the congressional committee, “we don’t need the right to vote, we have it.”</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">Newspapers and religious leaders insulted Victoria with vile nicknames, editorials and cartoons, including this one, which dubbed her "Mrs. Satan." </span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it was in 1872, when Victoria Woodhull truly earned her place in American history when she ran for president. It was a daring move that caught the attention of the press, politicians, and the public. It was the first time that a woman – and a Spiritualist – sought the highest office in the land. She won the nomination of the Equal Rights Party. The former slave and abolitionist Frederick Douglass was named as her running mate, but if he knew it, he never acknowledged the nomination and campaigned for President Grant. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even though Victoria could have never been elected, none of that mattered. Her goal was to call attention to women’s rights issues – and to herself. Few regarded Victoria’s candidacy seriously; but the press was more than happy to write about her efforts because it sold newspapers. During her run, she did gain support from a few women’s rights groups and from some Spiritualists, but her radical position toward free love alienated most of those who would have helped her. Conservative newspapers and religious organizations began accusing every one of America’s four million (or more) Spiritualists of supporting free love and while it was a false charge, it inflamed passions. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: x-small;">One of Victoria's campaign posters</span></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Things turned ugly during her campaign. Reverend Henry Ward Beecher, brother of Uncle Tom’s Cabin author Harriet Beecher Stowe, had attacked Victoria’s notion of free love from his Brooklyn pulpit. Shortly before the election, Victoria’s newspaper printed a story that revealed that Beecher was having an adulterous affair with a parishioner, Mrs. Elizabeth Tilton. The result of the allegations was a full-blown scandal and an embarrassing trial for Beecher on adultery charges. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The newspaper story may have been accurate, but under a federal law against mailing “obscene” material, Victoria was arrested and jailed, where she spent Election Day. By the way, the winner of the 1872 election was Ulysses S. Grant, who went on to a second term in office.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the wake of the scandal, her arrest, and the election, Victoria was called a “vile jailbird” by Harriet Beecher Stowe and an “impudent witch.” Others called her much worse. She was later cleared at trial but the events ruined her health, her finances, and her reputation. In 1877, she moved to England, where she married a banker, still supported liberal causes, and lived comfortably until her death in 1927.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She seemed destined for historical oblivion. The Spiritualists wanted nothing to do with her because they believed that she had used the movement to simply further her radical women’s rights agenda. Following the Civil War, when so many people were seeking mediums to contact their loved ones, Victoria Woodhull had soured the movement’s reputation. The bereaved were more concerned with speaking with their loved ones than with listening to speeches about social injustice.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Victoria’s radical position on free love had caused rifts within the women’s rights movement, as well. Even bold feminist leaders like Susan B. Anthony, who had once welcomed Victoria, later distanced herself. When Anthony and Elizabeth Cady Stanton wrote a six-volume history of the suffrage movement, Victoria’s contributions were reduced to one brief mention. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She would have likely have been forgotten altogether if not for another, far different woman who made history in 2016. </span><br />
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-11694614571985521872016-09-09T12:42:00.002-05:002016-09-09T12:42:59.619-05:00THE DEATH OF VIRGINIA RAPPE<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>The Long Fall of Fatty Arbuckle</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On September 9, 1921, the death of a young movie
actress named Virginia Rappe would make newspaper headlines around the world.
The scandal that followed her death had nothing to do with the fame, or lack of
it, of the pretty actress – it was her link to the man who was known as
“America’s Funnyman,” Roscoe “Fatty” Arbuckle. Virginia’s death destroyed the
career of the man who was then America’s best-known comedic actor and created
one of Hollywood’s first lingering ghosts. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k_JvIeXetyo/V9L0Nc72qZI/AAAAAAAAEvc/MmY5p8Y-bO8QdaIXkzzVBlISfJvD4KIpQCLcB/s1600/fatty%2Barbuckle.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-k_JvIeXetyo/V9L0Nc72qZI/AAAAAAAAEvc/MmY5p8Y-bO8QdaIXkzzVBlISfJvD4KIpQCLcB/s400/fatty%2Barbuckle.jpg" width="340" /></a><br /><b>Roscoe "Fatty" Arbuckle</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fatty Arbuckle was among the first celebrities
to be swallowed by the bright lights of Hollywood. There are few actors who
have crashed and burned in the way that Arbuckle did. The rotund comedian,
nicknamed “Fatty” by his fans because of his 300-pound girth, achieved his
original success in the 1910s. He was more popular than even Charlie Chaplin
and at the time of his downfall in 1921, he was earning over $1 million a year.
But it all came to a crashing halt because of a scandal. Arbuckle had it worse
than most. It was bad enough to fall from grace because of one’s mistakes and
the scandal that might follow, but it was another thing entirely to be used by
an ambitious district attorney for his own political gains, and to be savaged
by the Hearst newspapers, which sensationalized Fatty’s plight and made a
bundle in circulation sales. Making things even worse, Arbuckle’s own studio
led the behind-the-scenes intrigue that sabotaged his career, some say as
revenge against a star who had become too big to control. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Roscoe Arbuckle was born (weighing in at a
whopping 16 pounds) on a small farm in Smith Center, Kansas, on March 24, 1887.
The following year, his family relocated to Santa Ana, California, and opened a
small hotel. In the summer of 1895, Roscoe made his stage debut with a
traveling theater troupe. The shy and overweight youngster immediately felt at
home on the spotlight. Four years later, his mother died and the boy was sent
to live with his father, who was then residing in Watsonville, California. When
his father vanished a short time later, a local hotel owner took Roscoe in.
When not working at odd jobs, he was tutored by a teacher who lived in the
hotel. However, he preferred appearing on amateur night at the town’s
vaudeville theater to reading and writing. In 1902, he was reunited with his
remarried father in Santa Clara and helped out the family by waiting tables in
his father’s restaurant. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Roscoe got into show business a few years later,
working in vaudeville and burlesque shows in California and the Pacific
Northwest. During a 1908 summer stock engagement in Long Beach, California, he
met a singer and dancer named Armanta “Minta” Durfee. The two of them were
married and toured the Southern California vaudeville circuit. At some point, Arbuckle
decided to try his luck in the fledgling movie industry. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Legend had it that Arbuckle was an overweight
plumber when Mack Sennett discovered him. The story goes that he had come to
unclog the film producer’s drain, but Sennett had other plans for him. He took
one look at Roscoe’s hefty frame and offered him a job. It never happened this
way – but it made a great story. Arbuckle’s large frame and bouncing agility
made him the perfect target for Sennett’s brand of film comedy, which included
mayhem, pratfalls, and pies in the face. He became a member of Mack Sennett’s
Keystone Film Company in April 1913. He was soon making dozens of two-reelers
as a film buffoon and audiences loved him. He made one film after another, all
of them wildly successful, and managed to earn a fortune. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the summer of 1916, Arbuckle joined the East
Coast-based Comique Film Corporation as a star and director with an annual
income of more than $1 million. The following March, he attended a banquet in
Boston hosted by his studio for regional theater exhibitors and this became
Fatty’s first brush with scandal. After the dinner, Arbuckle retired to his
hotel room, however, company executives (including founder Adolph Zukor) and
others continued partying at Brownie Kennedy’s Roadhouse, a tavern and brothel
in nearby Woburn, Massachsetts. Almost immediately, news circulated in Boston
about the orgy, and the gossip claimed that Arbuckle had been present. In fact,
some stories had him dancing on tables with prostitutes in the roadhouse’s
backroom. Because of the publicity, the city’s mayor raided the brothel. After
paying a fine, the madam was released. However, the stories about what went on
that night were too racy to simply fade away. Zukor was informed that unless money
changed hands, the bawdy activities were sure to make national news. Zukor paid
$100,00 to keep the matter quiet and in the process, did nothing to clarify
that Arbuckle had not been present that night. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By October 1917, Arbuckle (along with most of
the rest of the movie industry) was back in Hollywood. By now, his marriage to
Minta had fallen apart and she remained in New York to pursue her acting
career. Although separated, their divorce was not finalized until 1925.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With 1920’s “The Round Up,” Arbuckle began
making full-length movies. In January 1921, he signed a lucrative new contract
with Paramount Pictures, which led to Adolph Zukor pushing him into an
exhausting schedule that ended with him filming three movies at the same time
in the summer of 1921. By Labor Day weekend, Fatty was worn out and planned to
go to San Francisco to relax over the holiday. Zukor asked him to remain in
town to take part in an exhibitors’ convention that weekend and when Roscoe
refused, Zukor was enraged. Arbuckle didn’t let this bother him and he went on
the trip anyway. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fatty was joined on his trip up the coast by
actor friend Lowell Sherman. Then, director Fred Fischbach, whom Arbuckle had
known for years, invited himself along. The three men set out on early Saturday
morning, September 3, and arrived in San Francisco later that evening. Fatty
was driving his flashy new Pierce-Arrow automobile and took his friends to the
luxurious St. Francis Hotel. Fatty took three adjoining suites on the 12th
floor.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On Sunday, the trio did some sightseeing and visited
friends and on Monday, Labor Day, the party got under way. Fischbach got in
touch with a bootlegger connection and soon, the guests and the liquor began to
arrive. Among the guests was Fred’s friend, film talent manager Al Semnacher,
who was in San Francisco for the weekend, trying to concoct evidence for his
pending divorce. He had brought along Bambina Maude Delmont, a woman with an
extensive police record involving blackmail, prostitution, and swindling, to
help him out. A friend of Bambina’s also came along -- a little-known actress
named Virginia Rappe. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XCYvlwSLVGM/V9L0NU_oS6I/AAAAAAAAEvY/3Gi0QXzqURgl-jpncY99kk77YjmRDKwEgCEw/s1600/virginia%2Brappe.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-XCYvlwSLVGM/V9L0NU_oS6I/AAAAAAAAEvY/3Gi0QXzqURgl-jpncY99kk77YjmRDKwEgCEw/s400/virginia%2Brappe.jpg" width="325" /></a><br /><b>Virginia Rappe</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Virginia came to Hollywood in 1919. She was a
lovely brunette whose unfortunate reputation preceded her. It was no secret in
Hollywood that she was a girl with “loose morals,” which was saying a lot for
the film colony in those days. Rumor had it that she had already had several
abortions by the time that she was 16, before giving birth to a child that that
she had given away. She caught the eye of Mack Sennett and wrangled some movie
roles on the Keystone lot, where she met Arbuckle. It was also rumored that
Virginia had worked her way through the cast and crew of the company and at one
point, she passed around a rather sensitive infestation of body lice that was
so severe that Sennett had to close the studio and have it fumigated. In spite
of her drunken escapades and reports of unprovoked nudity, she did earn some
film roles, including “Fantasy,” “Paradise Garden,” and “Joey Loses a
Sweetheart,” in which she appeared with Arbuckle. Virginia was noticed by
William Fox, shortly after winning an award for the “Best-Dressed Girl in
Pictures,” and he took her under contract. There was talk of her starring in a
new Fox feature and Virginia certainly seemed to be on her way up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1920, Virginia began dating director Jack
White. When he left Hollywood for New York, she was left with an unwanted
pregnancy to deal with. Her manager, Al Semnacher, suggested that she have an
abortion in San Francisco, where there was less chance of the Hollywood gossips
finding out about it. Since she was going up north and Semnacher had plans with
Bambina Delmont that weekend, he arranged for her to drive there with him on
September 3.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Salesman Ira Fortlois arrived at Roscoe’s suite
at noon on Monday to find the party already in full swing. Arbuckle was
reportedly not happy to discover that Fred Fischbach had invited Semnacher, Delmont,
and Rappe to the party, thanks to their questionable reputations, but he was
enjoying himself too much to press the issue. At one point during the party,
Fischbach suddenly left, claiming that he had business elsewhere. The crowd
grew to a couple of dozen people. The young women were downing gin-laced Orange
Blossoms, some of the guests had shed their tops to do the "shimmy,"
guests were vanishing into the back bedrooms for sweaty love sessions, and the
empty bottles of booze were piling up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Meanwhile, Delmont, who was well-liquored,
disappeared into Lowell Sherman’s suite with him and locked the door. Virginia,
roaring drunk, began tearing off her clothes and screaming hysterically.
Because Delmont and Sherman were locked in room 1221, and room 1220 had no
bathroom, Virginia was rushed into room 1219, Fatty’s suite, to use the
facilities there. Soon, unaware of what was happening, Roscoe tried to enter
his bathroom, only to find Virginia vomiting into the toilet. He helped her up
and convinced her to lie down and rest on his bed. Next, he went in search of
some ice. He hoped that the ice would quiet the woman down as well as
determine, by holding a piece of ice against her thigh to see if she reacted to
the chill, whether she was suffering from hysterics. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By now, Fischbach had returned. As Roscoe
applied the ice to the wailing woman’s leg, Maude Delmont walked into the room.
Rappe yelled that she was dying – words heard by several other female party
guests. Next, the bathtub in room 1219 was filled with cold water to cool off
the distraught young woman. But Virginia suddenly awoke and began screaming at
Arbuckle. “Stay away from me!” she cried and then turned to Delmont, “What did
he do to me, Maudie?” Virginia was bodily placed in the cold water tub and she
seemed to settle down. A short time later, she was taken to another room down
the hall where Delmont could take care of her. The hotel doctor was summoned to
the room a little while later, but he determined that Virginia was merely
drunk. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The party continued, with Arbuckle leaving the
hotel for a time to arrange to have his car shipped back to Los Angeles. He
planned to return by boat. By the time Fatty returned, another doctor was
administering morphine to Virginia. When the physician asked Delmont what had
transpired, she calculatedly created a fabricated tale that she later told the
police – but never swore to in court.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">According to her version of events, Fatty,
wearing only pajamas and a bathrobe, had steered a drunken Virginia into his
suite at around 3:00 p.m. on Monday afternoon. Delmont stated that the
festivities in the adjoining suites came to a halt when screams were heard in
the bedroom. She also said that weird moans were heard from behind the door. A
short time later, Fatty emerged with ripped pajamas and he told the girls,
"Go in and get her dressed. She makes too much noise." When Virginia
continued to scream, he yelled for her to shut up, or "I’ll throw you out
the window." Delmont and another showgirl, Alice Blake, found Virginia
nearly nude and lying on the unmade bed. She was moaning and told them that she
was dying. Bambina later reported that they tried to dress her, but found that
all of her clothing, including her stockings and undergarments were so ripped
and torn, "that one could hardly recognize what garments they were."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Arbuckle knew nothing of the story that Delmont
was spreading and on Tuesday, September 6, he checked out of the St. Francis,
generously covering everyone’s expenses. By now, Virginia, at Delmont’s
direction, was being treated by another doctor, this one associated with the
private Wakefield Sanitarium. Having been assured that Virginia was in no
danger, Arbuckle and his friends returned by ferry to Los Angeles.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On September 8, the still-stricken Virginia was
transferred from the hotel to the Wakefield Sanitarium, where she died the next
afternoon. An illegal postmortem exam was conducted on her body and her
ruptured bladder and other organs were placed in specimen jars, which would
prevent a proper autopsy by the legal authorities. Convinced that she could
turn the entire incident into something she could profit from, Delmont swore out
a complaint against Arbuckle with the police. Back in Hollywood, Roscoe’s new
film, “Gasoline Gus,” had just opened successfully and at the same time, he
learned of Virginia’s death. Shocked, he volunteered to return to San
Francisco. Paramount, meanwhile, panicked at the possible repercussions of the
weekend, hired attorneys to represent their high-priced star.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">From the start, the newspapers were filled with
lurid headlines (“Fatty Arbuckle Sought in Orgy Death”) and graphic, false
details supplied by Delmont. Newspapers around the country were revealing
shocking “truths” about the alleged events in the death of the virtuous
Virginia Rappe at the hands of the lust-crazed Fatty Arbuckle. Everything from
Arbuckle’s past was raked up, including the false story that he had been party
of the 1917 orgy in Massachusetts and new stories claimed that he had killed
Virginia because she had rebuffed his advances. They also claimed that he had
killed her because his immense weight pressed down on her too hard during sex.
And it was no longer just sex, the newspapers told a nation of stunned fans,
but "strange and unnatural sex." According to reports, Arbuckle
became enraged over the fact that his drunkenness had led to impotence, so he
ravaged Virginia with everything from a Coca-Cola Bottle, to a champagne
bottle, to an over-sized piece of ice. Other stories claimed that Fatty was so
well-endowed that he had injured the girl, while others stated that the injury
had come when Fatty had landed on the slight actress during a sexual frolic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Soon, churches and women’s groups were crusading
against the “lustful” Arbuckle. In Hartford, Connecticut., a group of angry
women ripped down a screen in a theater showing an Arbuckle comedy, while in
Wyoming, a group of men opened fire in a movie house where another Arbuckle
short was being shown. Thanks to the newspapers, Arbuckle had been found guilty
in the public’s eyes before charges have ever been filed against him. Angry,
and increasingly boisterous, voices were calling for Hollywood to clean up its
act. Finally, Arbuckle’s films were pulled from general release. Arbuckle had
been placed on suspension by Paramount, invoking the morals clause in his
contract.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">San Francisco District Attorney Matthew Brady
hoped the Arbuckle case would be his ticket to the governor’s office. The
coroner’s inquest met on September 12 with Brady demanding that Arbuckle be
charged with murder. By then, he knew that most of what had been printed in the
newspapers were lies but since his vow to prosecute the movie star to the
fullest extent of the law had already been featured in the press, he proceeded
with the case. Over the next few days, with Arbuckle jailed without bail, a
special grand jury voted to indict the actor on a manslaughter charge. It was their
belief, based on the evidence, that Arbuckle had used “some force” that led to
Virginia’s death. On September 28, a judge ruled that the defendant could be
charged with manslaughter, but the rape charge was dismissed. Arbuckle was
released on his own recognizance and returned to Los Angeles. He was
accompanied by his estranged wife, Minta, who had arrived to offer moral
support.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The trial began on November 14, 1921, with
Roscoe taking the stand and denying any wrongdoing. The defense introduced
evidence of Virginia’s past medical problems (including chronic cystitis) and
her recurrent bouts of abdominal pain that often led to her yanking off her
clothing. The key witness, Maude Delmont, never took the stand to continue her
fanciful claims against Arbuckle – something that the defense pointed out
several times to the jury. After much conflicting testimony, the jury remained
deadlocked after 43 hours of deliberation. One juror was adamant that Fatty was
guilty “until hell freezes over.” The judge declared a mistrial.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unwilling to give up, D.A. Brady pushed for
another trial. One of the tactical errors this time around was made by the
defense. Overly confident that Arbuckle would be acquitted, they did not have
him testify again and simply read his prior testimony into the record. This
made Arbuckle look cold and uncaring about the young woman’s death and made the
wrong impression on the jury. In addition, his attorney, assured of victory,
never bothered to make a closing statement. After many more hours of deliberating,
the jury was deadlocked again, although this time they had almost voted in
favor of conviction. Fatty had not been convicted, but he was paying for his
“crime.” He had been forced to sell his home in Los Angeles, along with his
luxury automobiles, to pay lawyer’s fees that the studio was no longer footing
the bill for.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unbelievably, Brady took Arbuckle to trial a
third time. This time, Fatty took the stand and patiently answered questions
about the fateful party for three hours. The defense introduced evidence about
Virginia’s questionable past, the prosecution’s intimidation of witnesses, as
well as the fact that the prosecution still had never produced Maude Delmont to
testify. This time, the jury adjourned for only five minutes and returned with
a vote of acquittal and a written apology: <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">"Acquittal
is not enough for Roscoe Arbuckle. We feel a grave injustice has been done him
and there was not the slightest proof to connect him in any way with the
commission of any crime. We wish him success, and hope that the American people
will take the judgment of fourteen men and women that Roscoe Arbuckle is
entirely innocent and free of all blame.”<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fatty may have been free, and cleared by a
well-meaning jury, but he was hardly forgiven by Hollywood. Paramount canceled
his $3 million contract and his unreleased films were scrapped, costing the
studio over $1 million. Fatty’s career was finished after he was banned from
the movies by Will Hays and his Hollywood Production Code. Hays wanted to show
that he meant business when it came to cleaning up the movies and decided to
make Arbuckle an example. Strangely, Hays acted at the urging of Adolph Zukor
and Paramount Pictures. Years later, it was also discovered that Zukor had made
a mysterious payment to D.A. Matthew Brady on November 14, 1921. It was assumed
to be a possible bribe to control the case’s outcome – although not in
Arbuckle’s favor. Some have also theorized that Zukor, eager to regain control
over Arbuckle, had masterminded the St. Francis Hotel party through Fred
Fischbach (who mysteriously vanished for a time), but that the situation, which
was simply to make Arbuckle look bad, got wildly out of control.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By Christmas, Hays had rescinded his ban on
Arbuckle in Hollywood productions, but civic groups and the press remained
opposed to his return to film. Because of this, the studios just couldn’t
afford to have his name connected to their pictures. Only a few friends, like
Buster Keaton, remained by his side. In fact, it was Keaton who suggested that Arbuckle
change his name to "Will B. Good." Actually, Arbuckle did adopt the
name William Goodrich in later years and he was able to gain employment as a
gag man and as a comedy director. Friends helped him as best they could, but
the next few years were difficult ones. He tried stage and vaudeville work and
opened a club and a hotel, which closed down during the Depression. He married
and divorced a second time, and then found happiness with his third wife,
actress Addie McPhail. In 1931, Roscoe appeared in a fan magazine article,
begging to be allowed to return to the screen. Hal Roach offered him a
contract, but pressure from several women’s groups caused the deal to fall
through.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After again turning to vaudeville, Arbuckle was
given a contract by New York’s Vitaphone Studios head, Sam Sax, to star in a
1932 film short. The “comeback” Vitaphone two-reeler was so successful that Sax
gave Fatty a contract to make five more, in preparation for a feature film with
Warner Brothers. Unfortunately, Arbuckle died on the night following the
completion of his last Vitaphone short “Tomalio” on June 29, 1934. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even in death, Fatty Arbuckle could not find
peace. The slanderous stories about him still exist today and despite evidence
presented to the contrary, he continues to be perceived as the “lustful rapist”
portrayed in newspapers of the day. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the Hollywood Forever Cemetery, a lonely
stone marks the grave of Virginia Rappe and the site is said to be home to her
ghost. Little explanation needs to be offered as to why Virginia’s spirit might
be a restless one. She lost not only her life over the course of the Labor Day
Weekend of 1921, but she lost a promising career and her tattered reputation,
as well. Was it a fate that she brought on herself? Perhaps, but the press was
nearly as savage to the sickly and misguided young actress as it was to Fatty
Arbuckle. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While most newspapers painted Virginia as an
“innocent” victim of Arbuckle’s lust-crazed advances, the Hearst newspapers
were especially cruel to the actress and managed to turn the affair into a
national scandal. While Heart’s papers were always known for their yellow
journalism and lurid headlines, the Arbuckle case received even more coverage
than normal. As it happened, Heart’s affair with a starlet named Marion Davies
became big news at the same time that details began to emerge about Fatty
Arbuckle and Virginia Rappe. Marion Davies’ career began to suffer and rumor
had it that Hearst gave the go-ahead to his papers to exploit every Hollywood
scandal of the time, including Fatty’s, to take the focus off of himself and
Davies. This made the unlucky Virginia Rappe an easy target. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For this reason, it’s not surprising to hear
reports that her spirit still lingers behind. Visitors who come to Hollywood
Forever Cemetery have reported hearing a ghostly voice that weeps and cries out
near Virginia’s simple grave. It is believed by many to be her ghost, still
attached to this world, and still in anguish over her promising career, which
was, like her life, cut short before it could really begin.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-80491135758291526022016-08-26T11:33:00.000-05:002016-08-26T11:33:50.150-05:00THE "HEX HOUSE" MURDER<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Strange Tales of Pennsylvania Folk Magic &
Murder</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Strange things were afoot in Pennsylvania in the
early twentieth century. A brutal murder in 1928 began a “hex scare” in the
region, turning the authorities and the general public against what had always
been seen as a common custom – the folk magic practice of “powwowing.” Prior to
the bloody crime, the belief in and practice of folk magic was seen as nothing
more than a quaint holdover from less sophisticated times. After the murder,
though, it became a threat. Practitioners were no longer seen as backward or
ignorant; now they were dangerous. The folk medicine that had been used for
centuries was now a false treatment that kept people from getting the real
medical care they needed. There was little room for superstition and hex
doctors in the modern world. To city folk, it seemed impossible to believe that
anyone still believed in magic in the modern world of the 1920s, but among the
back roads, farms, and hollows of rural Pennsylvania, magic was alive and well.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4wlTnU36WRI/V8BuzFKt1wI/AAAAAAAAEuY/95SQz72EutclwhZoNwhmEGOjqmgVoKRLgCLcB/s1600/hex%2Bhouse.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="252" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-4wlTnU36WRI/V8BuzFKt1wI/AAAAAAAAEuY/95SQz72EutclwhZoNwhmEGOjqmgVoKRLgCLcB/s400/hex%2Bhouse.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Pennsylvania hex magic dated back to the
earliest days of the colony, linked largely to the Pennsylvania German (or
Dutch, as they are often called) immigrants and their descendants. The German
settlers held strongly to elements of their culture, and blended customs of the
Old and the New World to form a distinct identity. Even their language became a
unique dialect. Though there were a great many different religious
denominations among the German settlers, there was a common tradition of folk
magic that was practiced by all, with the exception of the “Plain Dutch,” such
as the Amish, who rejected the practice. For large numbers of these Germans,
the belief in folk magic was entwined with their Christian beliefs. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At one end of the folk magic scale was “powwowing,”
which had nothing to do with the Native American ceremonial practice of the
same name. Powwowers performed magical-religious folk healing and drew their
healing power from God. Generally, Powwowers provided cures and relief from
illnesses, protection from evil, and the removal of hexes and curses. They also
located lost objects, animals and people, foretold the future, and provided
good luck charms. To carry out their practices, they used charms, amulets,
incantations, prayers, and rituals. It was generally believed that anyone could
powwow, but members of certain families were especially adept at it. These
families passed the traditions down from generation to generation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the other end of the scale was “hexerei” or
witchcraft. Practitioners of black magic drew their power from the Devil or
other ungodly sources. The witch harassed neighbors and committed criminal acts
with supernatural powers. Sometimes witches were called hex doctors. The term
“hex doctor” can be confusing because it can imply many things. At times, the
term was applied to powwowers who were also knowledgeable in the ways of
hexerei and were skilled at battling witches and removing curses. These hex
doctors fell into a sort of gray area between a witch and a powwower. Sometimes
they cast hexes for a price or out of revenge. It was not uncommon for someone
to seek out one hex doctor to remove the curse of another. For many Pennsylvania
Dutch, and certainly for outsiders, powwowers and witches could not easily be
placed into categories. There were many who labeled the use of any folk magic
as witchcraft that was strictly forbidden by their religious beliefs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Powwowers and hex doctors often worked against
one another, with the common person caught in the middle. It was in this
setting that folk magic flourished for more than two centuries.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Witches targeted their victims in many ways.
Since hexerei was based around a farming society, many of the witch’s attacks
were directed at animals and crops. They were often blamed when cows did not
produce milk, when seemingly healthy animals mysteriously died, or when crops
failed. When witches went after humans, they used a variety of torments. They
were commonly suspected of causing illnesses, especially conditions that
lingered and caused a person to waste away over time. A witch could also use
spells to launch invisible attacks, causing seizures or fits, the sensation of
being pricked or stabbed, or the feeling of being choked or strangled. Witches
could also cause a run of bad luck for any individual that they attacked. The
witch could even appear in the form of an animal, like a black cat, so that
they could move about undetected and harass their victims. Needless to say,
just about any type of misfortune could be blamed on a witch.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In addition to spoken words, the written word
was also used for magic. Written amulets and charms were common, and many
Pennsylvania Germans carried them on their person. Amulets usually included a
written version of a protective charm and perhaps verses from the Bible. The
paper they were written on was usually folded into triangles. If not carried
personally, such amulets might be hung in a house or barn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ritualized objects were also used. These objects
were actually mundane items, but they often acquired a special purpose.
Sometimes the objects would be used as a surrogate for the afflicted or for the
disease itself. Much of German folk magic depends on the principles of
contagion and transference. Basically, the idea is that the evil or the disease
is contagious, and can be transferred away from the afflicted person and into
an object. The object could then be disposed of in a prescribed manner to keep
the contagion from spreading. Traditionally, this kind of magic is known as
sympathetic magic – and it often worked, as long as the person afflicted truly
believed that it would.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since the powwowers and hex doctors depended on
charms, formulas, and incantations that were passed down through their
families, they often collected them into “recipe” books, which contained the
collective knowledge of a family line of powwowers. By the middle 1800s, these
homemade volumes were joined by published volumes that came into common usage.
Folk healers had always invoked and used the Bible in their magic, but they
increasingly supplemented their knowledge with sources published by other
powwowers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The most famous and widely read of these books
was compiled by a powwower named John George Hohman in 1819. Hohman was a
German immigrant who settled on a farm in Berks County, Pennsylvania. As a side
business, he published broadsides and books about the occult and medicine aimed
at the local German population. In time, he published the most widely read
grimoire (book of magic) in America. The compilation of spells, charms,
prayers, remedies and folk medicine was called <i>Der lang verborgene Freund</i>, or <i>The
Long Lost Friend</i>. It was the first book of powwow magic to achieve wide
circulation. It has been in print in either German or English continuously
since 1820. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Aside from being a collection of charms and
recipes, the book itself became a talisman. In what was an example of a resoundingly
successful early marketing ploy, buyers of the book were told they would be
protected from harm merely by carrying it. In the front of each edition was an
inscription that read: <i>“Whoever carries
this book with him, is safe from all enemies, visible and invisible; and
whoever has this book with him cannot die without the holy corpse of Jesus
Christ, nor drown in any water, nor burn up in any fire, not can any unjust
sentence be passed upon him. So help me. +++”</i><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The bulk of the book consisted of remedies and
charms to cure common illnesses, fevers, burns, toothaches and other ailments.
It also contained recipes for beer and molasses and even had a charm for
catching fish. Many of the charms in the book were meant to provide protection
from physical harm from weapons, fire, witches, and thieves. It also provided
instructions on how to keep animals in a certain location, heal livestock and
cattle, and even cure rabid animals. The <i>Long
Lost Friend</i> soon became the primary reference for anyone attempting to understand
the practice of powwow, and it gained a place of honor on almost every
powwower’s and hex doctor’s shelf.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As an opposite number to the helpful charms of <i>The Long Lost Friend</i> was the far more
dangerous book of witchcraft, <i>The Sixth
& Seventh Book of Moses</i>. Drawn from the tradition of European grimoires
and ceremonial magic, <i>The Sixth &
Seventh Book of Moses</i> were purported to have been written by Moses himself,
and allegedly contain secret knowledge that could not be included in the Bible.
Described as two separate books, they are almost always published together in
one volume, first appearing in Pennsylvania in 1849. The book soon gained an
evil reputation among the German population and those who were familiar with
its lore. It was associated with hexing because the text provided instructions
on how to conjure and control spirits and demons. It also contained spells and
incantations that were beneficial to the user, as well as spells that would
duplicate some of the biblical plagues of Egypt, turn a staff into a serpent,
and other miraculous happenings. Much of the volume is made up of reproduced
symbols that were allegedly copied from old woodcuts. Some copies were printed,
at least partially, with red ink. A few hand-copied editions were alleged to exist
that had been written in blood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Though hex doctors frequently acquired the book
to enhance their reputations, merely owning the volume was believed to be
dangerous, and if a hex doctor actually read it – that could be fatal. Reading
the book was believed to attract the attention of the Devil or at the very
least, cause the reader to become so obsessed with the book that they could do
nothing but read it. The only way to break the obsession – should such a thing
occur – was to read the entire book in reverse, starting at the end and working
back to the beginning. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To modern readers, all of the stories and claims
of spells, hexes, magic books, and incantations may sound rather silly, but
rest assured, they were all common traditions of the Pennsylvania Dutch Country
of the late nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. It might sound hard for
us to believe today, but people at that time and place readily accepted such
ideas. And that turned out to be the most crucial point of the “Rehmeyer” Hex
Murder -- those involved truly believed in magic. They believed that it worked
and could ruin their lives.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And they would do anything to try and stop that
from happening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The “Hex Murder,” the strange killing of Nelson
Rehmeyer, captivated the people of the region and sold newspapers across the
country. The story began with a young powwower named John Blymire, who was born
in 1895 and learned the art of German folk magic at a young age. His family had
been powwowers for at least three generations and probably longer. Although he
did poorly in school, Blymire established a good reputation as a healer in York
County. Starting at the age of seven, he began providing healing remedies and
cures. Despite his early success, though, he began to believe that there was a
shadow hanging over him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One day, as he was leaving the cigar factory
where he worked, an apparently rabid dog began running toward some of his
fellow workers. Blymire approached the dog and spoke some words of a spell. The
dog’s mouth allegedly stopped foaming and the animal became subdued. Blymire
patted its head and the animal followed him excitedly for several blocks. The
other workers were amazed at the dog’s apparent cure. But soon after, Blymire’s
luck began to turn bad. He soon became ill and he started to believe that
another practitioner of folk magic had placed a hex on him, possibly out of
jealousy. He soon found himself unable to eat, sleep, or work his powwow magic.
Blymire used several of his own magical charms to try and remove the hex, but
he was unsuccessful. It was difficult to remove a hex if one did not know the
identity of the witch who placed it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6msGgGAwLI4/V8BuzLfRh-I/AAAAAAAAEuU/HEHewsvUOmgH5wZVKYodDo_XSaV3TSzDgCEw/s1600/hex%2B1%2Bblymire.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-6msGgGAwLI4/V8BuzLfRh-I/AAAAAAAAEuU/HEHewsvUOmgH5wZVKYodDo_XSaV3TSzDgCEw/s400/hex%2B1%2Bblymire.jpg" width="263" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">John Blymire</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then one night, as he lay in his bed trying to
sleep, the answer came to him. Just as the clock struck midnight, an owl
outside hooted seven times. It was then that the idea came to Blymire that he
had been hexed by the spirit of his great-grandfather Jacob, who had been a
powwower and the seventh son of a seventh son. Since he could not fight back
against a spirit, he decided that he would move away from his ancestral home
and the cemetery where his great-grandfather was buried, hopefully breaking the
spell. It seemed to work, and soon Blymire’s luck began to improve – at least for
a time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In addition to his work as a folk healer,
Blymire performed a variety of odd jobs. He soon met a young woman named Lily
and they married. The couple had two children, but both died in infancy. The
youngest only lived for three days. These tragic occurrences led Blymire to
once again believe that he had been hexed. Unable to determine the source of
the new hex, he turned to other powwowers for help. One of them was a man named
Andrew Lenhart, who convinced him that the source of the hex was someone that
he knew well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Blymire became suspicious of everyone around
him, even his wife. Lily had reason to fear for her safety because, in 1922,
one of Lenhart’s other clients murdered her husband after receiving similar
information. The client, Sallie Jane Heagy, shot her husband, Irving, in bed
after Lenhart was hired to “drive the witches” from her home. Sallie did not
believe the treatment worked and was in terrible physical pain. She finally
snapped one day, killed her husband, and later committed suicide in jail.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After consulting lawyers, Lily was able to
obtain a judge’s order to have Blymire committed to an insane asylum. The
doctors determined that he was obsessed with hexes and magic and needed to go
to the asylum for treatment. Soon after, Lily filed for divorce and it was
granted. Blymire didn’t remain locked up for long. Forty-eight days after he
was committed, he simply walked out the door one day and vanished. No one even
bothered to look for him.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Blymire went back to work at the cigar factory
in 1928. While he was there, he met two other people who also believed that
they were suffering because of someone who had hexed them. One of them, 14-year-old
John Curry, was trapped in an abusive household and felt that a malevolent
force was causing the trouble at home. Another man who believed he had been
hexed was a farmer named Milton Hess. Hess and his wife, Alice, had been
successful and prosperous until 1926, when a series of unfortunate events began
at their farm. Crops failed, cows stopped producing milk, and they lost a large
amount of money. The entire family believed that they had been hexed by
someone, but they didn’t know who it could be. The talk of hexes reinforced
Blymire’s own belief in spells and he became terrified by the idea that someone
was out to get him. He began to consult other powwowers again, attempting to
track down the source of the lingering hex.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Blymire turned to a well-known powwower in the
region named Nellie Noll, the so-called “River Witch of Marietta.” The elderly
woman identified the source of Blymire’s hex as a member of the Rehmeyer
family. When Blymire asked which of them had cursed him, she told him to hold
out his hand. She placed a dollar bill on his palm and then removed it. When
Blymire looked at his hand, an image appeared. It was the face of Nelson
Rehmeyer, an old powwower whom Noll referred to as the “Witch of Rehmeyer’s
Hollow.” Blymire had known Rehmeyer, a distant relative, since he was a small
child. When Blymire had been five years old, he became seriously ill. His
father and grandfather, unable to cure him, took the child to Rehmeyer, who
healed him. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unable to understand why Rehmeyer wished him
harm, Blymire went to see Noll again. She confirmed that it was Rehmeyer who
had hexed him, and added that he was also responsible for the curses on John
Curry and Milton and Alice Hess. Blymire told the other two men what he had
learned, and also revealed a solution for ending all of the hexes. Noll had
stated that the men needed to take Rehmeyer’s copy of <i>The Long Lost Friend</i> and a lock of his hair and bury them six feet
underground.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Blymire and Curry decided to go together to
Rehmeyer’s Hollow and obtain the needed items. On November 26, they were driven
by Hess’ oldest son, Clayton, to the Hollow. They stopped at the home of
Rehmeyer’s former wife, Alice, who said that Nelson could be found at his own
home, which was about a mile down the road (see photo at top of the story). The
men went to Rehmeyer’s door, and Blymire asked to speak with him for a few
minutes. He later said that the older man was much larger and “meaner-looking”
than Blymire remembered. They went into the parlor, and Blymire asked him
questions about <i>The Long Lost Friend</i>
and other elements of powwowing – never mentioning, of course, the true reason
why he and Curry had come. After talking for a while, the men realized that it
was late, and Rehmeyer offered to let them sleep downstairs. They agreed and
while Rehmeyer slept, they looked for his copy of the spell book, but were unable
to find it. They debated on whether or not to try and obtain a lock of his
hair, but finally decided that Rehmeyer was too big for them to hold down while
they cut his hair. The pair left in the morning after agreeing that they needed
more help.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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</div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xgVBy7WsO6g/V8BuzDYL-fI/AAAAAAAAEuc/fyX82PsodDYOSVA4oSUDPJIrSrJJBERtACEw/s1600/hex%2B2%2Brehmeyer.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-xgVBy7WsO6g/V8BuzDYL-fI/AAAAAAAAEuc/fyX82PsodDYOSVA4oSUDPJIrSrJJBERtACEw/s400/hex%2B2%2Brehmeyer.jpg" width="258" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Nelson Rehmeyer,
the man that Blymire believed had “hexed” him.</span></b></div>
<br />
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Blymire told Milton Hess that he needed a member
of his family to help them subdue Rehmeyer. Hess and his wife offered their 18-year-old
son, Wilbert, as an assistant. The next evening, November 27, the three of them
arrived at Rehmeyer’s house. He let them in and they went into the front room.
Rehmeyer never got the chance to wonder why they had come back for another
visit. When his back was turned, the men tackled him to the floor and attempted
to tie his legs with a rope they had brought with them. The exact details of
what happened next varied slightly depending on which man told the story, but
during the struggle, Rehmeyer was beaten and strangled to death. It’s possible
that Blymire intended to kill Rehmeyer once he reached the house that evening,
but if he did, he did not reveal his plans to the other two men. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When they realized that Rehmeyer was dead, they
took all of the money in the house, hoping to make it look like a robbery. They
left behind the book and the lock of the old man’s hair. He was dead – the hex
had been lifted, they thought.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But if that was true, Blymire’s luck certainly
didn’t improve. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The three men doused the body with kerosene and
lit it on fire, hoping the flames would spread throughout the house and burn it
down. When they left, Rehmeyer’s body was engulfed in flames, but somehow, the
fire mysteriously went out. Some believe that perhaps the hex doctor was not
yet dead when he was set on fire and that he might have moved enough to
extinguish the flames, but had been burned too badly to survive. Regardless of
what happened, evidence of the crime was left behind.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Two days later, a neighbor discovered Rehmeyer’s
body. The shocking crime stunned the community, but the terror and excitement
that followed was nothing compared to the story that soon emerged. Alice
Rehmeyer informed the police of Blymire and Curry’s visit, and they were soon
picked up as suspects. As details of the events emerged, newspapers across the
country covered the story of the “York Witchcraft Murder” with great interest.
Every bizarre detail of Blymire’s hex-obsessed life was described for the
public. When the men went to trial, there were daily reports of the
proceedings. Hess received 10 years in prison, but Blymire and Curry ended up
receiving life sentences for the murder. Both were eventually paroled and lived
uneventful lives. Curry, the youngest, served in the military during World War
II and became a talented artist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The “Hex Murder” in York County received wide
coverage, and while the local authorities did not launch any official assault
on folk magic in the area, the press and authorities in other parts of the
state eventually would. The sensationalistic newspaper coverage of the case
brought intense scrutiny to folk practices, and they were labeled a form of
witchcraft. The press maligned all practitioners of powwowing, even if they
only practiced the most benign healing services. Lurid descriptions of magic
and strange beliefs filled the newspapers and shocked Americans who were
unaware that such things were still taking place in the twentieth century. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Law enforcement officials, doctors, and
educators began working together to put an end to what they considered
superstitious and dangerous practices. Many of them began attributing
supernatural motivations to any strange new cases that they encountered. During
the Rehmeyer murder trial, York County Coroner L.V. Zach claimed that the
deaths of five children in the previous two years had been caused by powwowers.
He said that the children’s parents took them to folk healers when they were
sick, instead of real doctors and, as a result, they died. He did admit there
had been no formal investigations of these cases, but that they were a matter
of common knowledge. The <i>New York Times</i>
featured the coroner’s (questionable) claims in an article under a dramatic
headline that read, “Death of 5 Babies Laid to Witch Cult.” The newspaper
quoted unnamed officials of the York County Medical Society, who said that the
coroner’s count of deaths attributed to witchcraft was much too low.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Soon, any death that was even vaguely connected
to a powwower – or rumored to have a connection – was labeled a “hex murder.”
In March 1929, the body of Verna Delp, 21, was discovered in the woods at
Catasuqua, near Allentown. On her body were three pieces of paper with magical
charms written on them, supposedly to protect from murder and theft. A
coroner’s report identified three poisons in her body, and it appeared that she
had taken them voluntarily. The young woman’s adoptive father, August
Derhammer, revealed to the police that he had recently learned that Verna was
taking treatments from a powwower and that she had been planning to visit him
on the day that she died. The powwower was identified as a man named Charles T.
Belles, and he was arrested thanks to the fact that the police were sure they
had another hex murder on their hands. At first, Belles denied treating Verna,
but later admitted that he was treating her for eczema. He claimed to only be a
faith healer, not a hex doctor. The authorities didn’t believe him, and even
though they could find no evidence to link him to the crime, continued to hold
him in jail. As the investigation continued, it was discovered that Verna was
pregnant and she had not seen her boyfriend, a truck driver named Masters, for
several months. She had not yet told her family of the situation and was
possibly looking for a way to end the pregnancy. Even after this new
information came to light, the police still believed that Belles was partially
responsible for her death. The obsession with hexes and powwow distracted the
police from other possibilities in the case, including a botched abortion
attempt, suicide or murder by someone other than Belles. By April, they still
had no evidence that Belles was involved with the murder, but he was charged
anyway. He finally received a hearing in mid-April after lawyers filed a writ
of habeas corpus. He was released on $10,000 bail, and charges were eventually
dropped. The murder of Verna Delp was never solved.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The press jumped on another case of “murder by
powwow” in January 1930. Mrs. Harry McDonald, 34, a housewife from Reading,
died after receiving severe burns in her home. She had apparently been given
some sort of ointment from a hex doctor with instructions to rub it on her
skin. At some point in the night, her body went up in flames when she got too
close to her stove. She was seriously injured, and when her husband, who worked
the night shift, found her in the morning, she was on the verge of death and
could not be saved. The woman’s brother told reporters that he believed the
lotion she was using was flammable and caught fire, killing his sister. He had
no evidence of this, but the press latched onto this theory and kept the story
alive with “occult” connections for weeks.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another “hex panic” murder occurred on January
20, 1932, when the body of a Philadelphia man named Norman Bechtel, 31, was
discovered in Germantown under a tree on a temporarily vacant estate. The
accountant and Mennonite Church worker had nine stab wounds in and around his
heart. Some of the wounds appeared to form the shape of a circle, and were
delivered with such force that they not only penetrated his suit and overcoat, but
his eyeglass case in his pocket, as well. A crescent-shaped cut was made on
each side of his forehead and a vertical slash ran from his hairline to his
nose. Two additional cuts ran off the vertical slash in the direction of the
crescent cuts. All of Bechtel’s valuables had been taken and his car was later
discovered six miles away. From the bloodstains in the automobile, it was clear
that Bechtel had known his attacker well enough to let him or her into his car.
The case gave all the appearances of a robbery gone bad – but then there were
those pesky facial cuts, which detectives surmised might have special occult
significance. When it was learned that Bechtel had grown up on a farm near
Boyertown, where powwow was common, the police immediately started searching
for evidence of another hex murder. Captain Harry Heanly, the chief
investigator, had the victim’s apartment searched for any possible connection
with folk magic, but all they found were Mennonite books and pamphlets. After
following a few more leads, the police still had no answers, so the press began
calling the “mystery” a “hex murder.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then in April 1937, William Jordan, 36,
confessed that he and four others had killed Bechtel, who they had been
attempting to blackmail. Most of the details of Jordan’s confession were not
publicly released, as Bechtel had been involved in “several love affairs” and
had a large life insurance policy. Needless to say, the case had nothing to do
with magic.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">If these cases had been the only ones tied to
powwow, it’s likely that the hex scare would have died out sooner and the
public would have lost interest. That was not mean to be, though, for another
actual hex murder occurred in 1934, which sealed the fate of folk magic in the
state for decades to come. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The last true hex murder in Pennsylvania
occurred in Pottsville, in Schuylkill County, on Saturday, March 17, 1934. A
shotgun blast ended the life of Mrs. Susan Mummey, 63, as it tore through her
living room window while she was standing next to her adopted daughter. Mummey
was attending to the injured foot of her boarder, Jacob Rice, who was seated in
front of her. The oil lamp that her daughter was holding shattered as the shot
tore through the window. Mummey was killed and the other two took cover, not
knowing if more shots would follow. They waited all night in fear, thinking
that an assassin was lurking outside. Finally, as morning approached, Rice
decided to make the two-and-a-half-mile trip to Ringtown to report the crime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Initially, the police thought the murder was the
result of some backwoods feud that turned violent. But soon the case took a
bizarre turn when Albert Shinsky, 24, confessed to the killing. He claimed that
the killing had been self-defense, and that Mummey had placed a hex on him
seven years earlier when he was working in a field across from the Mummey farm.
There had been a dispute about the property lines and one day, Mrs. Mummey came
over the fence and stared at him for a long time, he said. He claimed that he
then felt cold perspiration come over him and his arms went limp. From that
point on, he was unable to work – but that was just the beginning of the
torture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Shinsky claimed that whenever he saw a sharp
object, it would change into the shape of a black cat with flaming eyes from
which he could not look away. The cat also appeared to him sometimes when he
was in bed at night. It would creep slowly across the room and jump onto the
bed. The appearance of the cat made him so cold, he claimed, that he had to get
up and run around the room in order to get warm again. He sought help from
several powwowers, but nothing worked. His family thought that he was lying and
was just too lazy to work, but Shinsky seemed to genuinely believe that he was
hexed. Eventually, when he could take no more of the supernatural harassment,
he killed Mummey. He told the police that the minute she died, he felt the
curse lift from his shoulders.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Prosecutors wanted to give Shinsky the death
penalty for the murder, and the press once again emphasized the danger of the
strange beliefs and practice of folk magic. Over objections from the police and
the prosecutor’s office, a commission of doctors ruled that Shinsky was insane,
and he was sent to Fairview State Hospital. He remained in mental institutions
for most of the rest of his life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The case seemed to confirm in the public eye
that the belief in witchcraft was some sort of threat to society. Practitioners
of powwow still had a few defenders, though, and they retained plenty of
clients, but the tide of public opinion had turned against them. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thanks to the two murder cases – and the many
suspected cases that were inflated by the newspapers – Pennsylvania’s school
system declared war on the belief in hexes, especially in the rural areas where
it seemed most prevalent. It was hoped that within several years, a new focus
of modern medicine and science could erase the superstitions that seemed to
plague the countryside. State authorities also launched a campaign against
powwowers and hex doctors directly, arresting and prosecuting them for
practicing medicine without a license. Combined with the sensational stories in
the media, and the assault on folk magic in general, many of the remaining
powwowers went underground. Except for the few who retained public storefronts,
most of those who continued to practice avoided the public spotlight and
downplayed their work to non-believers. They continued to provide services,
however, to those who sought them out. As time went on, fewer members of the
younger generations showed interest in learning about the old ways of healing
and hexes, but the practice refused to die out completely. Many modern healers
still exist today, and while they may not be linked to any kind of witchcraft,
German folk magic remains alive and well – although believers in the craft
today seem far less likely to be driven to murder.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-47408057795922761292016-08-25T07:19:00.000-05:002016-08-25T07:19:08.320-05:00THE SULTAN'S PALACE<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>HAUNTED HISTORY OF THE GARDETTE-LE PRETE MANSION</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When it comes to the many haunts of New Orleans, ghost enthusiasts are quick to point to the infamous LaLaurie Mansion as the French Quarter’s most notorious haunted spot. But, as it is with so many lesser-known haunted houses across the country, there are other places in the Crescent City that have tales that are just as sinister – and spirits that are just as restless.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Gardette-Le Prete Mansion, which has been dubbed the “Sultan’s Palace” over the years, is one of the French Quarter’s most imposing buildings and has long had a leading role among the city’s bloodiest mysteries and legends. It earned its horrific reputation as the scene of violent bloodshed, rape, and murder – tragedies that still linger behind as a haunting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A dentist named Dr. Joseph Coulon Gardette originally constructed the mansion at the corner of Orleans and Dauphine Street in the Vieux Carre. In 1825, it was the tallest house in the French Quarter, with basements that were further off the ground and ceilings that were higher than in any other private residence in the city. Four years after its completion, the house was sold to a wealthy Creole man named Jean Baptiste Le Prete. He made the house even more extravagant by adding the cast-iron grillwork to the balconies, which has become the mansion’s most distinguishing feature. With its top floor ballroom and spacious galleries, the house came to be regarded as one of the most luxurious mansions in New Orleans. Not surprisingly, it was the center of Creole culture in the French Quarter of the middle 1800s. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, the wealth and power of many of the Creole families started to decline in the second half of the century, leading many to scandal and ruin. Le Prete was one of those who lost much of his fortune and he was forced to rent out his wonderful home in 1878.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His tenant was a mysterious Turk who claimed to be a deposed Sultan of some distant land. A short time before, a vessel of war had arrived in the New Orleans harbor at night. Men came and went from the ship on official business and finally, a wealthy Oriental man, dressed in a regal costume, came ashore and was received with great respect by city officials. Le Prete was called into a private conference and was asked if his property might be available for lease. He agreed to the generous terms offered, not realizing the danger he was bringing to the mansion.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">According to what he could learn, the “Sultan” was a deposed ruler from a distant Asian country. It seemed that he had fled the land with his brother’s favorite wife. He had hidden away in Europe for a time and then had sailed for New Orleans. He had brought with him his entire entourage, including armed guards and a harem of women and young boys. They were of all ages and descriptions and rumors swirled about the Sultan’s unseemly desires. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Le Prete had to take his wife and children, along with all of their belongings, and vacate the house completely. They went to live on their plantation while the Sultan went about transforming the house into an eastern pleasure palace. The Turk had transported with him a fortune in gold and established a line of credit at all of the banks. He used his wealth to begin work on the mansion. Soon, the floors were covered with carpets from Persia, soft couches were embroidered with colorful patterns, cushions were piled high in the corners, and carefully carved furniture, chairs, and chests were picked up from the docks. Soon, the move was complete and candles were lighted and braziers were heated to warms the rooms. The smell of heavy incense filled the air and passersby could hear the laughter of the women and their soft voices as they walked in the courtyard each day. Their foreign tongues tantalized the neighborhood men, as did the rustle of their rare silk garments.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And yet no one ever saw these beautiful women. Complete privacy was maintained at all times. The doors and windows were covered and blocked, the gated front portal was never opened and men patrolled the grounds with curved daggers in their belts. The iron gates around the property were chained and locked and the house became a virtual fortress.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Neighbors began to talk, their curiosity aroused by the strange and forbidding changes to the house. A few weeks before, the place had been open and filled with light but now was dark and menacing. They would not have much time to ponder these changes, though, for terrible and bloody events were soon to take place. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few months passed and one night, a terrible storm crashed over the city. Under the cover of darkness, an unfamiliar ship with a strange, crescent banner sailed into the harbor. In the morning, it was gone and it had taken the storm with it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">That morning, neighbors passing by the mansion noticed that trickles of blood were running out from under the iron gates. The authorities were summoned but could raise no one, so they forced open the doors and went inside. They found the gate to the courtyard standing wide open on its hinges and muddy footprints leading in and out of the house. The people from the neighborhood soon found the first indication of the horror that awaited them in the bodies of a few servants had been slashed with swords and left for dead. They cautiously entered the house and found absolute carnage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At some point in the night, a massacre had taken place. Blood splattered the floors and walls, headless bodies and amputated limbs were scattered about, and all of them had been butchered by sword or ax. No room was without a horrific scene. The bodies and limbs were scattered about, mutilated and burned in such a way that it was impossible to tell which body part belonged to what person. No exact count of the dead was ever determined.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And the horror didn't stop with murder. The beautiful harem girls, the Arab boys, the Sultan’s children and even the guards, were raped and subjected to vile sexual assaults. The scandal was so horrendous that the details of that night have still not been chronicled completely to this day.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Sultan's mutilated body was found in the garden, where he had been buried alive. In his struggle to free himself from his earthen prison, he managed to partially tear himself from the grave, but it was not enough. He had choked to death on mouthfuls of pungent earth. Over his hasty grave, a marble tablet was placed, bearing an inscription in Arabic. It read: “The justice of heaven is satisfied, and the date tree shall grow on the traitor’s tomb.” It is said that a tall tree did indeed grow on this spot and was known locally as “the tree of death.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While the tree has long ago perished, the legends of the house remain. The identity of the murderers was never discovered. Some say they were the members of some pirate's crew who had business with the mysterious Sultan and some say the crimes were the work of the Turk's own brother, seeking revenge for the theft of his wife and of the family wealth. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No one will ever know for sure that night, but what soon became clear was that the Le Prete mansion was now haunted. For years after, the mansion rapidly declined and was almost a slum dwelling because the owners did little to maintain the place. It was rented out as apartments for a time during the great influx of Italian immigrants in the late 1800s. During this period of its worst decay, an Italian woman who lived there made a living washing clothes, which she then hung out to dry on the top gallery. One day, she fell over the ironwork to the pavement below and was instantly killed. She most likely leaned back too far while hanging the clothes on the line but other tenants in the building blamed the spirits for her death. She was pushed, they claimed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1949, the building housed the New Orleans Academy of Art for a brief time but the whispers of ghosts and hauntings never really stopped. The stories said that strange sounds could often be heard there at night, like the soft piping of Oriental flutes and the pad of footsteps on the stairs. It was also believed that the faces of the women in the Sultan’s harem could sometimes be seen peering out of windows on the upper floors. Screams, moans and frantic running sounds were also commonly reported.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By the 1950s, the house was once again used as an apartment building. It was divided into nine units, several of which were two-storied. And still, the stories of ghosts continued. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In a newspaper interview, one tenant of the house stated that she had been startled numerous times by a man in a garish Oriental costume. The tenant, Virgie “Gypsy” Posten, rented the downstairs front apartment. The place was rundown at the time but it was all that she could afford. “I didn’t know about the legend, or even that the place was supposed to be haunted,” recalled Posten, who later became a successful dancer, choreographer, and dance therapist with countless appearances all over the United States and abroad to her credit. “I was just starting out in my career and the cheap rent appealed to me.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">She soon learned that strange things were occurring in the building. One day, a man in garish Oriental robes suddenly appeared in her apartment. She vividly recalled the incident: “My two-room apartment had only one door, which opened into the main hall only a few yards from the foot of the enormous central staircase that wound its way up to the floors above. I always kept it locked, and even if whoever it was had had a key, I think I would have at least heard it turning in the lock. Yet there was nothing. Only silence. One minute he was there…the next he was gone! He didn’t seem hostile. He’d just stand there and look at me, but it was terribly eerie and nerve-wracking!”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Posten saw the man a second time a short time later. She woke up and he was standing at the end of her bed. “There was no sign of him when I turned on the lights and got up to check, but I abandoned everything there the next day and went to stay temporarily with a girlfriend until I could find another place to live,” she said.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few days later, she had her last and most terrifying experience. She and her girlfriend stopped by the apartment to get some of her things, which she had left there until she could move out. She remembered what happened next: “We were standing in the dimly lit hallway in the empty house, as I locked the door, when we suddenly heard a blood-curdling scream come out of the inky blackness somewhere at the top of the staircase just a few feet from us! It was petrifying - a long shrill scream that ended in a horrible gurgle! We ran as if the devil himself were after us to the street door. For a moment we even got wedged in the doorway, as both of us tried to get out at the same time! We laugh about it today but it was pretty frightening at that moment! The very next day I got my things out of there.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1966, the house was purchased by Jean Damico, her husband Frank, and a partner, Anthony Vesich, Jr. The house was in bad shape and desperately needed repairs. They decided to restore the place and turn it into luxury apartments. Soon after, neighbors began to tell Jean about the house’s bizarre history and the bloody incidents that had taken place there. Jean Damico recalled, “People would look a little curiously at us whenever they knew we were the owners. Some even told me how they used to cross the street and pass it on the other side.” However, she dismissed the stories as nothing more than supernatural gossip until she experienced something for herself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One night, while trying to sleep, Jean sensed a presence in the room with her. She looked up and saw a man standing at the end of the bed. “Thinking my eyes were playing tricks on me, I closed them for a moment and then opened them again to refocus, but the figure was still there,” she said. “When the form suddenly seemed to move toward my side of the bed, I panicked and turned on the light on my night table. Imagine my surprise when there was no one there! My husband laughed at me when I told him, but I know I saw somebody!”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even today, the "Sultan’s Palace" remains a curious and intriguing mystery of New Orleans and the French Quarter. We may never know all of the secrets this old mansion still hides. What curious tales they might tell if only these crumbling walls could talk. </span><br />
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-62576804490310513992016-08-18T12:05:00.000-05:002016-08-18T12:05:25.201-05:00THE "OTHER" HAUNTED HOUSES<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>America’s Not-So Famous Haunted Houses</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Supernatural literature is filled with accounts from some of the “Most Haunted Houses in America.” Time and again, we have seen the lists of places that every ghost enthusiast is supposed to visit – the Lemp Mansion, Winchester Mansion, Whaley House, Myrtles Plantation, and the list goes on. But what about those houses that are not so widely-known? Perhaps they are only local haunts, or places that are off-the-beaten-path, but many of them are just as haunted – or even more so – than the American haunts that have become so famous. What follows is a look at just a few of the lesser-known haunted houses that dot the American landscape. There will definitely be more to come, so if the reader has a location that they would like to see featured, let us know, and we’ll include some of them in a future list!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>NEMACOLIN CASTLE</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>BROWNSVILLE, PENNSYLVANIA</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Looking out over the Monongahela River in Brownsville, Pennsylvania, is Nemacolin Castle, which was once a famous site on the old National Road. The three-story mansion, with is ramparts and turret, actually pre-dates the town and was built on the site of Fort Burd, a garrison from the days of the French and Indian War. The Castle was built by Jacob Bowman, a local businessman, who owned a nail factory and a paper mill, and was later a postmaster, justice of the peace, and bank president in Brownsville. As his wealth grew, so did his family. After he fathered nine children with his wife, Isabella, he decided to build the mansion, which was completed in the early 1800s. In the years that followed, the house was not only a family home, but also a stop on the Underground Railroad. It remained in the Bowman family until it was eventually donated to the local historical society, which maintains it today. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Over the last few decades, the house has gained a reputation as one of the most haunted spots in Southwest Pennsylvania. Staff members and visitors to the Castle have reported strange happenings, from heavy, disembodied footsteps to slamming doors, the erratic behavior of lights, and full-bodied apparitions. The ghost of a little girl, who is normally seen in the middle part of the house, has been reported at least a dozen times over the past decade. Others have sighted a small boy, a stern-looking older woman, a ghostly little dog, and even an older man who is believed to be Jacob Bowman himself. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>TINKER COTTAGE</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>ROCKFORD, ILLINOIS</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Tinker Swiss Cottage in Rockford, Illinois, stands today as one of the most unusual homes in the state. It was built by Robert Tinker, an unusual man in his own right. Born on December 31, 1836 in Honolulu, Hawaii to missionary parents, Robert came to Rockford in 1856. He was employed as an accountant by Mary Dorr Manny, the wealthy widow of John H. Manny of the Manny Reaper Works. His inspiration for his amazing cottage came during his tour of Europe in 1862, where he fell in love with the architecture of Switzerland. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1865, after returning to Illinois, he began building his 27-room Swiss-style cottage on a limestone bluff overlooking Kent Creek. He surrounded his Swiss Cottage with over 27 acres of trees, vines, winding pathways, flowerbeds, and gardens. A three-story Swiss-inspired barn was added to the property which housed cows, chickens, and horses. In 1870, Robert and Mary Manny were married and became one of Rockford's most influential couples. Tinker became mayor of Rockford in 1875, was a founding member of the Rockford Park District and the CEO of the Northwest and IC Railroad lines. Mary Tinker died in 1901 and Robert later remarried her niece, Jesse Dorr Hurd. When Robert died in 1924, Jessie created a partnership with the Rockford Park District, allowing her to remain in the house until her death. After her death in 1942, the park district acquired the property and opened the home as a museum in 1943. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Over the years, visitors and staff members alike have experienced the hauntings here first-hand, from the sound of footsteps in the hallways and on the stairs, to voices, songs being hummed, and the eerie laughter of children. A home for terminally ill children was located nearby for more than 30 years and often, the children were allowed to play at the cottage. Could some of them linger behind at the place where they found happiness? Even skeptical staff members have been convinced of the haunting as they hear things they cannot explain and have seen objects move by something other than earthly hands.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>MCCUNE MANSION</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>SALT LAKE CITY, UTAH</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Located in the Capitol Hill section of Salt Lake City, Utah, is the McCune Mansion, built by Utah South Railroad and business tycoon Alfred McCune in 1900 at a cost of over $1 million. Born to a British Army officer and his wife in Calcutta, India, McCune immigrated with them to Utah Territory after they joined the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints (LDS). By the time that he was 21, McCune had become a highly successful railroad builder and was connected to other millionaires of the era. He was a partner in the Peruvian Cerro de Pasco mines along with J. P. Morgan, William Randolph Hearst, and Frederick William Vanderbilt. He owned business interests throughout Utah and in parts of Montana, British Columbia, and South America. He and his wife, Elizabeth, traveled widely and at one point, Elizabeth was entertained by Queen Victoria at Windsor Castle. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">McCune wanted his home to be an extravagant display of his wealth and financed a two-year tour of Europe for architect S.C. Dallas, so that he could obtain design ideas. The new home towered over the surrounding streets and no expense was spared. It was constructed from red Utah sandstone, but other materials and furnishings were imported from all over the world. McCune and his wife lived in the home until 1920. Prior to moving to Los Angeles, they donated it to the LDS Church and it became the McCune School of Music. In the early 1950s, the mansion became the Brigham Young University Salt Lake City Center, until 1972 when it was moved to a larger location. It was sold in 1973 and became the Virginia Tanner Modern Dance School. Since then, the building has been privately owned, often used for wedding receptions and other short-term rentals.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Though it’s unclear why, the haunting in the house began soon after the McCunes moved out. Since then, the list of strange reports has continued to grow. Under the stairs is a room that was once used for music practice and although this is no longer its purpose, instrumental music is still heard coming from within. Two apparitions have been seen in the house- -- a man in a long, black coat and a little girl who resembles one of the portraits that hangs in the house. The young girl has been seen walking in and out of a mirror in the west end of the mansion. Another odd report involves phantom footsteps that begin and end in the center of rooms. There are also reports of items being moved about, furniture rearranged, lights turning on and off, and doors that unlock themselves, even after being secured for the night and double-checked. The identity of the house’s lingering spirits remains a mystery.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>TALIESIN</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>SPRING GREEN, WISCONSIN</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Located in Spring Green, Wisconsin is Taliesin, a former summer home that belonged to its designer, Frank Lloyd Wright. It’s become famous as one of the finest examples of his signature “prairie-style” architecture, but what most people don’t know is that it was also the scene of a heinous crime in 1914 that left a haunting in its wake. Wright began building the house in 1911, soon after leaving his first wife and six children. He had been involved in a scandalous affair with Mamah Borthwick Cheney, the wife of one of his clients. She left her husband to move to Spring Green while Taliesin was still under construction. Although Mamah did not have primary custody of her two children, they were spending the day with her on August 15, 1914. Wright was in Chicago, supervising the construction of another project. While Mamah and her children were eating lunch with several workmen in the dining room, a servant named Julian Carlton (who had been fired earlier that day) locked them in the house, poured gasoline under the door, and set the house on fire. As the people trapped inside tried frantically to escape, Carlton attacked them with a hatchet, killing seven people, including Mamah and her children. The tragedy destroyed the majority of Taliesin and most of the records of Wright’s early work. Wright received a telegraph in Chicago and rushed to Wisconsin, only to find the mansion, and his life, in ruins. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Determined not to defeated by this terrible turn of events, he rebuilt Taliesin in Mamah’s honor. But bizarrely, the second house also met with tragedy. In April 1925, a lightning storm started a fire in the house’s telephone lines and it burned to the ground. Defiant against the forces of nature, Wright built a third incarnation of Taliesin on the same site and it has survived to this day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Taliesin is one of the most visited of Wright’s home in the country – and the most haunted. After the murderous events of 1914, the bodies of the victims were taken to a cottage on the property called Tan-Y-Deri. It is in and around this cottage where Mamah’s ghost has been reported over the years. She is usually dressed in a long, white gown and while she is a peaceful presence, she is obviously restless and lost. It is also said that doors and windows open and close by themselves within the cottage and light sometimes turn on and off. Witnesses say that they sometimes close the place for the night, only to return the following day to find everything wide open. The events of the past have truly marked the house as a haunted place that will be forever linked to a tragedy of long ago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>PROSPECT PLACE</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>TRINWAY, OHIO</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The unique mansion known as Prospect Place, in the tiny town of Trinway, was built by George W. Adams, who came to Ohio from Virginia in 1808. Already wealthy, Adams had inherited his grandfather’s plantation but had freed all of the slaves his family owned before selling the farm. Adams hated slavery and chose Ohio as his new home because it was a free state. Within two decades, he was one of the wealthiest men in the region. He owned two flour mills, built bridges and canals, and helped develop the town of Dresden. In addition, he provided free grain for the poor and offered his home as a safe house for slaves who escaped the south using the Underground Railroad. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He built the Greek Revival-style Prospect Place in 1856. It was the first house in the state to have indoor plumbing and was fitted with a cupola on top of the house where a signal light could alert runaway slaves that the place offered food and shelter. Injured, sick, or wounded slaves who did not survive their journey to freedom are among the spirits still believed to linger in the house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">George Adams lived long enough to see slavery abolished in America before he died in 1879. He left his vast estate to his children, but over the years, relatives squandered it and by the middle 1950s, the house was abandoned. It was later sold to the Cox Gravel Co., which offered tours of the mansion, but it steadily declined. By the 1980s, time and vandals had reduced the place almost to ruins and it was slated for destruction. If not for the attention paid to the house by the famous Longaberger Basket Co. of Ohio, it might have been lost. Company founder Dave Longaberger had recently purchased and renovated a number of historic buildings in the area and he wanted to restore Prospect Place. Unfortunately, he passed away before work could be completed. But the house was rescued again, this time by George W. Adams – the great, great grandson of the original owner. Work to restore and preserve the mansion is ongoing today. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Prospect Place has long been regarded as the local “haunted house” by those who live in the area. The stories of the haunting date back many years and if even a portion of them are true, it is one of the most haunted houses in the state. In addition to the spirits of former slaves who linger in the house, there are also the ghosts of train accident victims who haunt the basement. After an accident on a nearly rail line, the wounded were brought to Prospect Place and the basement was turned into a temporary hospital. Their ghosts are now believed to haunt the underground rooms. Another ghost is believed to be that of a young girl who died in an accident at the house. Her ghost has been seen playing inside and outside of the mansion, and her girlish laughter has been frequently reported. A ghost who has been seen near a staircase on an upper floor is thought to be George W. Adams himself, or perhaps the spirit of William Cox, Adam’s son-in-law, who mysteriously vanished in 1886 after absconding with a large part of his wife’s inheritance. Some believe that he has been forced in death to return to the place where he carried out his betrayal. </span><br />
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-68877038635238979502016-08-12T08:13:00.000-05:002016-08-12T08:13:32.840-05:00DEBUNKING THE "HISTORY" OF THE MYRTLES PLANTATION<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>How Uncovering History Tells the TRUE Story of "One of America's Most Haunted Houses"</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Handprints in the mirrors, footsteps on the stairs, mysterious smells, vanishing objects, death by poison, hangings, murder, and gunfire -- The Myrtles Plantation in the West Feliciana town of St. Francisville, Louisiana, holds the rather dubious record of hosting more ghostly phenomena than just about any other house in the country. But what could be more dubious than the honor itself? That would be the questionable history that has been presented to “explain” why the house is so haunted in the first place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Long acclaimed as one of the most haunted houses in America, The Myrtles attracts an almost endless stream of visitors each year and many of them come in search of ghosts. There seems to be little doubt about the fact that the house is haunted – it’s the reason that its haunted that has been called into question. For several generations, owners and guides at the plantation have been presenting “facts and history” that they know is blatantly false. The Myrtles, according to hundreds of people who have encountered the resident spirits, is haunted --- but not for the reasons that we have been told. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was a simple check of historical records that revealed the real story. The true story of The Myrtles may not be as glamorous as the story presented by the staff at the plantation, but it is certainly strange. The history of the plantation is filled with death, tragedy and despair, leading us to wonder why a fanciful history ever needed to be created in its place. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Myrtles Plantation was constructed by David Bradford in 1794 and since that time, has allegedly been the scene of at least ten murders. In truth, though, only one person was ever murdered there but, as has been stated already, some of the people who have owned the house have never let the truth stand in the way of a good story. But as the reader will soon discover, the plantation has an unusual history that genuinely did occur, one that may, and likely has, left its own real ghosts behind. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">David Bradford was one of five children born in America to Irish immigrants. In 1777, he purchased a tract of land and a small stone house near Washington County, Pennsylvania. He became a successful attorney, businessman and Deputy Attorney General for the county. His first attempt to marry ended only days before his wedding (no details are known about this) but he later met and married Elizabeth Porter in 1785 and started a family. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As his family and business grew, Bradford needed a larger home and he built a new one in the town of Washington. The house became well known in the region for its size and remarkable craftsmanship, with a mahogany staircase and woodwork imported from England. Many of the items had to be transported from the East Coast and over the Pennsylvania mountains at great expense. Bradford would use the parlor of the house as an office, where he would meet with his clients.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, he was not able to enjoy his splendid new house for long. In October 1794, he was forced to flee, leaving his family behind. Bradford became involved in the infamous Whiskey Rebellion and legend has it that George Washington placed a price on the man’s head for his role in the affair. The Whiskey Rebellion took place in western Pennsylvania and began as a series of grievances over high prices and taxes forced on those living along the frontier at that time. The complaints eventually erupted into violence when a mob attacked and burned down the home of a local tax collector. In the months that followed, residents resisted a tax that had been placed on whiskey and while most of the protests were nonviolent, Washington mobilized a militia and sent it in to suppress the rebellion. Once the protests were brought under control, Bradford left the region on the advice of some of the other principals in the affair. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After leaving Washington, Bradford first went to Pittsburgh. Leaving his family in safety, he traveled down the Ohio River to the Mississippi. He eventually settled at Bayou Sara, near what is now St. Francisville, Louisiana. Bradford was no stranger to this area. He had originally traveled here in 1792 to try and obtain a land grant from Spain. When he returned in 1796, he purchased six hundred acres of land and a year later, built a modest, eight-room home that he named “Laurel Grove.” He lived there alone until 1799, when he received a pardon for his role in the Whiskey Rebellion from newly elected President John Adams. He was given the pardon for his assistance in establishing a boundary line, known historically as “Ellicott’s Line,” between Spain and the United States. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After receiving the pardon, Bradford returned to Pennsylvania to bring his wife and five children back to Louisiana. He brought them to live at Bayou Sarah and they settled into a comfortable life there. Bradford occasionally took in students who wanted to study the law. One of them, Clark Woodrooff, not only earned a law degree but also married his teacher's daughter, Sarah Mathilda. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Clark Woodrooff was born in Litchfield County, Connecticut, in August 1791. Having no desire to follow in his father's footsteps as a farmer, he left Connecticut at the age of nineteen and sought his fortune on the Mississippi River, ending up in Bayou Sarah. He arrived in 1810, the same year that citizens of the Feliciana parish rose up in revolt against the Spanish garrison at Baton Rouge. They overthrew the Spanish and then set up a new territory with its capital being St. Francisville. The territory extended from the Mississippi River as far east as the Perdido River, near Mobile.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Still seeking to make his fortune, Woodrooff placed an advertisement in the new St. Francisville newspaper, the Time Piece, in the summer of 1811. He informed the public that "an academy would be opening on the first Monday in September for the reception of students." He planned to offer English, grammar, astronomy, geography, elocution, composition, penmanship and Greek and Latin. The academy was apparently short-lived for in 1814, he joined Colonel Hide's cavalry regiment from the Feliciana parish to fight alongside Andrew Jackson at the Battle of New Orleans. When the War of 1812 had ended, Woodrooff returned to St. Francisville with the intention of studying law.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He began his studies with Judge David Bradford and soon earned his degree. He also succumbed to the charms of the Bradford daughter, the lovely Sarah Mathilda. Their romance blossomed under the shade of the crape myrtle trees that reportedly gave the home its lasting name. The young couple was married on November 19, 1817 and for their honeymoon, Woodrooff took his new bride to The Hermitage, the Tennessee home of his friend, Andrew Jackson.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the death of David Bradford, Woodrooff managed Laurel Grove for his mother-in-law, Elizabeth. He expanded the holdings of the plantation and planted about six hundred and fifty acres of indigo and cotton. Together, he and Sarah Mathilda had three children, Cornelia Gale, James, and Mary Octavia. Tragically, their happiness would not last.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On July 21, 1823, Sarah Mathilda died after contracting yellow fever. The disease was spread through a number of epidemics that swept through Louisiana in those days. Hardly a family in the region went untouched by tragedy and despair. Although heartbroken, Woodrooff continued to manage the plantation and to care for his children with help from Elizabeth. But the dark days were not yet over. On July 15, 1824, his only son, James, also died from yellow fever and two months later, in September, Cornelia Gale was also felled by the dreaded disease. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Woodrooff's life would never be the same but he managed to purchase the farm outright from his mother-in-law. She was quite elderly by this time and was happy to see the place in good hands. She continued to live at Laurel Grove with her son-in-law and granddaughter, Octavia, until her death in 1830. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After Elizabeth died, Woodrooff turned his attentions away from farming to the practice of law. He and Octavia moved away from Laurel Grove and he left the plantation under the management of a caretaker. He was appointed to a judge's position over District D in Covington, Louisiana, and he served in this capacity until April 1835. On January 1, 1834, he sold Laurel Grove to Ruffin Grey Stirling.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By this time, Woodrooff was living on Rampart Street in New Orleans and had changed the spelling of his last name to "Woodruff." He had also been elected as the president of public works for the city. During this period, Octavia was sent to a finishing school in New Haven, Connecticut, but she returned home to live with her father in 1836. Two years later, she married Colonel Lorenzo Augustus Besancon and moved to his plantation, Oaklawn, five miles north of New Orleans.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1840, the Louisiana governor, Isaac Johnson, appointed Woodruff to the newly created office of Auditor of Public Works and he served for one term. Then, at sixty years of age, he retired and moved to Oaklawn to live with Octavia and her husband. He devoted the remainder of his life to the study of chemistry and physics and died on November 25, 1851. He was buried in the Girod Street Cemetery in New Orleans.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1834, Laurel Grove was purchased by Ruffin Grey Stirling. The Stirlings were a very wealthy family who owned several plantations on both sides of the Mississippi River. On January 1, Ruffin Grey Stirling and his wife, Mary Catherine Cobb, took over the house, land, buildings and all of the slaves that had been bought from Elizabeth Bradford by her son-in-law. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since the Stirlings were so well thought of in the community, they needed a house befitting their social status. They decided to remodel Laurel Grove. Stirling added the broad central hallway of the house and the entire southern section. The walls of the original house were removed and repositioned to create four large rooms that were used as identical ladies and gentlemen's parlors, a formal dining room and a game room. Year-long trips to Europe to purchase fine furnishings resulted in the importation of skilled craftsmen, as well. Elaborate plaster cornices were created for many of the rooms, made from a mixture of clay, Spanish moss and cattle hair. On the outside of the house, Stirling added a 107-foot-long front gallery that was supported by cast-iron support posts and railings. The original roof was extended to encompass the new addition, copying the existing dormers to maintain a smooth line. The addition had higher ceilings than the original house so the second story floor was raised one foot. The completed project nearby doubled the size of David Bradford's house and in keeping with the renovations, the name of the plantation was officially changed to “The Myrtles."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Four years after the completion of the project, Stirling died on July 17, 1854 of consumption. He left his vast holdings in the care of his wife, Mary Cobb, who most referred to as a remarkable woman. Many other plantation owners stated that she "had the business acumen of a man," which was high praise for a woman in those days, and she managed to run all of her farms almost single-handedly for many years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In spite of this, the family was often visited by tragedy. Of nine children, only four of them lived to be old enough to marry. The oldest son, Lewis, died in the same year as his father. Daughter Sarah Mulford's husband was actually murdered on the front porch of the house after the Civil War. The war itself wreaked havoc on The Myrtles and on the Stirling family. Many of the family's personal belongings were looted and destroyed by Union soldiers and the wealth that they had accumulated was ultimately in worthless Confederate currency. To make matters worse, Mary Cobb had invested heavily in sugar plantations that had been ravaged by the war. She eventually lost all of her property. She never let the tragedies of the war, and others that followed after, overcome her, however, and she held onto The Myrtles until her death in August 1880. She was buried next to her husband in a family plot at Grace Church in St. Francisville.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On December 5, 1865, Mary Cobb had hired William Drew Winter, the husband of her daughter, Sarah Mulford, to act as her agent and attorney and to help her manage the plantation lands. As part of the deal, she gave Sarah and William the Myrtles as their home. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">William had been born to Captain Samuel Winter and Sarah Bowman on October 28, 1820 in Bath, Maine. Little is known about his early life or how he managed to meet Sarah Mulford Stirling. However, they were married on June 3, 1852 at The Myrtles and together; they had six children, Mary, Sarah, Kate, Ruffin, William and Francis. Kate died from typhoid at the age of three. The Winters first lived at Gantmore plantation, near Clinton, Louisiana, and then bought a plantation on the west side of the Mississippi known as Arbroath. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Twelve years after the death of Ruffin Stirling, and after the Civil War, William was named as agent and attorney by Mary Stirling to help her with the remaining lands, including Ingleside, Crescent Park, Botany Bay and The Myrtles. In return, Mary gave William the use of the Myrtles as his home. Times were terrible and Winter was unable to hold onto it. By December 1867, he was completely bankrupt and the Myrtles was sold by the U.S. Marshal to the New York Warehouse & Security Company on April 15, 1868. Two years later, however, on April 23, the property was sold back Mrs. Sarah M. Winter as the heir of her late father, Ruffin G. Stirling. It is unknown just what occurred to cause this reversal of fortune but it seemed as though things were improving for the family once again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But soon after, tragedy struck the Myrtles once more. According to the January 1871 issue of the <i>Point Coupee Democrat </i>newspaper, Winter was teaching a Sunday school lesson in the gentlemen's parlor of the house when he heard someone approach the house on horseback. After the stranger called out to him, saying that he had some business with him, Winter went out onto the side gallery of the house and was shot. He collapsed onto the porch and died. Those inside of the house, stunned by the sound of gunfire and the retreating horse, hurried outside to find the fallen man. Winter died on January 26, 1871 and was buried the following day at Grace Church. The newspaper reported that a man named E.S. Webber was to stand trial for Winter's murder but no outcome of the case was ever recorded. As far as is known, Winter's killer remains unidentified and unpunished. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sarah was devastated by the incident and never remarried. She remained at The Myrtles with her mother and brothers until her death in April 1878 at the age of only forty-four. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the death of Mary Cobb Stirling in 1880, the Myrtles was purchased by Stephen Stirling, one of her sons. He bought out his brothers but only maintained ownership of the house until March 1886. There are some who say that he squandered what was left of his fortune and lost the plantation in a game of chance but most likely, the place was just too deep in debt for him to hold onto. He sold the Myrtles to Oran D. Brooks, ending his family's ownership. Brooks kept it until January 1889 when, after a series of transfers, it was purchased by Harrison Milton Williams, a Mississippi widower who brought his young son and second wife, Fannie Lintot Haralson, to the house in 1891. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Injured during the Civil War, in which he served as a fifteen-year-old Confederate cavalry courier, Williams planted cotton and gained a reputation as a hard-working and industrious man. He and his family, which grew to include a wife and seven children, kept the Myrtles going during the hard times of the post-war South. But tragedy was soon to strike the Myrtles again. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During a storm, the Williams' oldest son, Harry, was trying to gather up some stray cattle and fell into the Mississippi and drowned. Shattered with grief, Harrison and Fannie turned over management of the property to their son, Surget Minor Williams. He later married a local girl named Jessie Folkes and provided a home at the Myrtles for his spinster sister and maiden aunt, Katie. Secretly called "the Colonel" behind her back, Katie was a true Southern character. Eccentric and kind, but with a gruff exterior, she kept life interesting at the house for years.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By the 1950s, the property surrounding the house had been divided among the Williams heirs and the house itself was sold to Marjorie Munson, an Oklahoma widow who had been made wealthy by chicken farms. It was at this point, they say, that the ghost stories of the house began. They started innocently enough but soon, what may have been real-life ghostly occurrences took on a "life" of their own.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>The "Ghost Story" that Isn't....</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is no question that the most famous ghostly tale of the Myrtles is that of Chloe, the vengeful slave who murdered the wife and two daughters of Clark Woodruff in a fit of jealous anger. Those who have been reading this chapter so far have already guessed that there are some serious flaws in this story but for the sake of being complete, I included the tale here since it has long been told by owners and guides at the house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">According to the story, the troubles that led to the haunting at the Myrtles began in 1817 when Sarah Mathilda married Clark Woodruff. Sara Matilda had given birth to two daughters and was carrying a third child, when an event took place that still haunts the Myrtles today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Woodruff, had a reputation in the region for integrity with men and with the law, but was also known for being promiscuous. While his wife was pregnant with their third child, he started an intimate relationship with one of his slaves. This particular girl, whose name was Chloe, was a household servant who, while she hated being forced to give in to Woodruff's sexual demands, realized that if she didn't comply, she could be sent to work in the fields, which was the most brutal of the slaves’ work.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Eventually, Woodruff tired of Chloe and chose another girl with whom to carry on. Chloe feared the worst, sure that she was going to be sent to the fields, and she began eavesdropping on the Woodruff family's private conversations, dreading the mention of her name. One day, the Judge caught her at this and ordered that one of her ears be cut off to teach her a lesson and to put her in her place. After that time, she always wore a green turban around her head to hide the ugly scar that the knife had left behind.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">What actually happened next is still unclear. Some claim that what occurred was done so that the family would just get sick and then Chloe could nurse them back to health and earn the Judge's gratitude. In this way, she would be safe from ever being sent to the fields. Others say that her motives were not so pure and that what she did was for one reason only: revenge.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">For whatever reason, Chloe put a small amount of poison into a birthday cake that was made in honor of the Woodruff's oldest daughter. Mixed in with the flour and sugar was a handful of crushed oleander flowers. The two children, and Sarah Mathilda, each had slices of the poisoned cake but Woodruff didn't eat any of it. Before the end of the day, all of them were very sick. Chloe patiently attended to their needs, never realizing (if it was an accident) that she had given them too much poison. In a matter of hours, all three of them were dead.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The other slaves, perhaps afraid that their owner would punish them also, dragged Chloe from her room and hanged her from a nearby tree. Her body was later cut down, weighted with rocks and thrown into the river. Woodruff closed off the children's dining room, where the party was held, and never allowed it to be used again as long as he lived. Tragically, his life was cut short a few years later by a murderer. To this day, the room where the children were poisoned has never again been used for dining. It is called the game room today.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since her death, the ghost of Chloe has been reported at the Myrtles and was even accidentally photographed by a past owner. The plantation still sells picture postcards today with the cloudy image of what is purported to be Chloe standing between two of the buildings. The former slave is thought to be the most frequently encountered ghost at the Myrtles. She has often been seen in her green turban, wandering the place at night. Sometimes the cries of little children accompany her appearances and at other times, those who are sleeping are startled awake by her face, peering at them from the side of the bed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">I am sure that after reading this story, even the most non-discerning readers have discovered a number of errors and problems with the tale. In fact, there are so many errors that it's difficult to know where to begin. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">However, to start, it's a shame that the character of Clark Woodruff has been so thoroughly damaged over the years with stories about his adulterous affairs with his slaves and claims that he had one of his lovers mutilated. Sadly, these stories have been accepted as fact, even though no evidence whatsoever exists to say that they are true. In fact, history seems to show that Woodruff was very devoted to his wife and was so distraught over her death that he never remarried. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Before we get to the problem of Chloe's existence, we should also examine the alleged murders of Sarah Mathilda and her two daughters. In this case, the legend has twisted the truth so far that it is unrecognizable. Sarah Mathilda was not murdered. She died tragically from yellow fever (according to historical record) in 1823. Her children, a son and a daughter -- not two daughters -- died more than a year after she did. They certainly did not die from the result of a poisoned birthday cake. Also, with this legend, Octavia would not have existed at all (her mother was supposed to have been pregnant when murdered) but we know that she lived with her father, got married and lived to a ripe old age. In addition, Woodruff was not killed. He died peacefully at his daughter and son-in-law's plantation in 1851.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The key to the legend is, of course, Chloe, the murderous slave. The problem with this is that as far as we can tell, Chloe never existed at all. Not only did she not murder members of the Woodruff family but it's unlikely that the family ever had a slave by this name. Countless hours have been spent looking through the property records of the Woodruff family, which are still available and on file as public record in St. Francisville, searching for any evidence that Chloe existed. It was a great disappointment to learn that the Woodruffs had never owned a slave, or had any record of a slave, named Chloe, or Cleo, as she appears in some versions of the story. The records list all of the other slaves owned by the Woodruff family but Chloe simply did not exist. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So how did such a story get started?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the 1950s, the Myrtles was owned by wealthy widow Marjorie Munson, who heard some of the local stories that had gotten started about odd things happening at the house. Wondering if perhaps the old mansion might be haunted, she asked around and that's when the legend of "Chloe" got its start. According to the granddaughter of Harrison and Fannie Williams, Lucile Lawrason, her aunts used to talk about the ghost of an old woman who haunted the Myrtles and who wore a green bonnet. They often laughed about it and it became a family story. She was never given a name and in fact, the "ghost" with the green bonnet from the story was described as an older woman, never as a young slave who might have been involved in an affair with the owner of the house. Regardless, someone repeated this story of the Williams' family ghost to Marjorie Munson and she soon penned a song about the ghost of the Myrtles, a woman in a green beret.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As time wore on, the story grew and changed. The Myrtles changed hands several more times and in the 1970s, it was restored again under the ownership of Arlin Dease and Mr. and Mrs. Robert F. Ward. During this period, the story grew even larger and was greatly embellished to include the poison murders and the severed ear. Up until this point, it was largely just a story that was passed on by word of mouth and it received little attention outside of the area. All of that changed when James and Frances Kermeen Myers passed through on a riverboat and decided to purchase the Myrtles. The house came furnished with period antiques and enough ghost stories to attract people from all over the country. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Soon, the story of the Myrtles was appearing in magazines and books and receiving a warm reception from ghost enthusiasts, who had no idea that what they were hearing was a badly skewed version of the truth. The house appeared in a November 1980 issue of <i>LIFE</i> magazine but the first book that I have found that mentioned the house was by author Richard Winer. Both the magazine article and the Winer book mentioned the poison deaths of Sarah Mathilda and her daughters. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As time went on and more authors and television crews came calling at the Myrtles, the story changed again and this time, took on even more murders. In addition to the deaths of Sarah Mathilda, her daughters and Chloe, it was alleged that as many as six other people had been killed in the house. One of them, Lewis Stirling, the oldest son of Ruffin Grey Stirling, was claimed to have been stabbed to death in the house over a gambling debt. However, burial records in St. Francisville state that he died in October 1854 from yellow fever. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">According to legend, three Union soldiers were killed in the house after they broke in and attempted to loot the place. They were allegedly shot to death in the gentlemen's parlor, leaving bloodstains on the floor that refused to be wiped away. One fanciful account has it that years later, after the Myrtles was opened as an inn, a maid was mopping the floor and came to a spot that, no matter how hard she pushed, she was unable to reach. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Supposedly, the spot was the same size as a human body and this was said to have been where one of the Union soldiers fell. The strange phenomenon was said to have lasted for a month and has not occurred since. The only problem with this story is that no soldiers were ever killed in the house. There are no records or evidence to say that there were and in fact, surviving family members denied the story was true. If the ghostly incident occurred, then it must have been caused by something else.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another murder allegedly occurred in 1927, when a caretaker at the house was supposedly killed during a robbery. Once again, no record exists of this crime and an incident as recent as this would have been widely reported. The only event even close to this, which may have spawned the story, occurred when the brother of Fannie Williams, Eddie Haralson, was living in a small house on the property. He was killed while being robbed but this did not occur in the main house, as the story states. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The only verifiable murder to occur at the Myrtles was that of William Drew Winter and it differs wildly from the legends that have been told. As described previously, Winter was lured out of the house by a rider, who shot him to death on the side porch. It is here where the stories take a turn for the worse. In the legend, Winter was shot and then, mortally wounded, staggered back into the house, passed through the gentlemen's parlor and the ladies parlor and onto the staircase that rises from the central hallway. He then managed to climb just high enough to die in his beloved's arms on the seventeenth step. It has since been claimed that ghostly footsteps have been heard coming into the house, walking to the stairs and then climbing to the seventeenth step where they, of course, come to an end. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While dramatic, this event never happened either. Winter was indeed murdered on the front porch by an unknown assailant but after being shot, he immediately fell down and died. His bloody trip through the house never took place --- information that was easily found in historical records. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, is the Myrtles really haunted? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is nothing to say that the Myrtles is not haunted. In fact, there is no denying that the sheer number of accounts that have been reported and collected here would cause the house to qualify as one of the most haunted sites in the country. However, as you can see from the preceding pages, the house may be haunted, just not for the reasons that have been claimed for so many years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In all likelihood, the infamous Chloe never existed and even if she did, historical records prove that Sarah Mathilda and her children were never murdered but died from disease. Instead of ten murders in the house, only one occurred and when William Winter died, he certainly did not stagger up the staircase to die on the seventeenth step, as the stories of his phantom footsteps allegedly bear out. Such tales belong in the realm of fiction, not in the chronicle of one of the alleged “most haunted houses in America.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The house may really be haunted by the ghost of a woman in a green turban or bonnet. The Williams family had an ongoing tale about her and while it may have been a story that was never meant to be told outside the family, the story spread nonetheless. They admit that while they ghost apparently did exist, no identity was ever given to her. It's also very likely that something unusual was going on at the Myrtles when Marjorie Munson lived there, which led to her seeking answers and to her first introduction to the ghost in the green headdress. Did she see the ghost? Who knows? But many others have claimed that they have.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Frances Myers claimed that she encountered the ghost in the green turban in 1987. She was asleep in one of the downstairs bedrooms when she was awakened suddenly by a black woman wearing a green turban and a long dress. She was standing silently beside the bed, holding a metal candlestick in her hand. She was so real that the candle even gave off a soft glow. Knowing nothing about ghosts, Myers was terrified and pulled the covers over her head and started screaming. Then she slowly peeked out and reached out a hand to touch the woman, who had never moved, and to her amazement, the apparition vanished. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Others claim that they have also seen the ghost and in fact, she was purportedly photographed a number of years ago. The resulting image seems to show a woman but it does not fit the description of a young woman like Chloe would have been. In fact, it looks more like the older woman that was described by the Williams family. Could this be the real ghost of the Myrtles?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even after leaving out the ridiculous stories of the poisonings and Winter's dramatic death on the staircase, the history of the Myrtles is still filled with more than enough trauma and tragedy to cause the place to become haunted. There were a number of deaths in the house, from yellow fever alone, and it's certainly possible that any of the deceased might have stayed behind after death. If ghosts stay behind in this world because of unfinished business, there are a number of candidates to be the restless ghosts of the plantation's stories. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And, if we believe the stories, the place truly is infested by spirits from different periods in the history of the house. There have been many reports of children who are seen playing on the wide verandah, in the hallways and in the rooms. The small boy and girl may be the Woodruff children who, while not poisoned, died within months of each other during one of the many yellow fever epidemics that brought tragedy to the Myrtles. A young girl, with long curly hair and wearing an ankle-length dress, has been seen floating outside the window of the game room, cupping her hands and trying to peer inside through the glass. Is she Cornelia Gale Woodruff or perhaps one of the Stirling children who did not survive until adulthood? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The grand piano on the first floor plays by itself, usually repeating the same chord over and over again. Sometimes it continues on through the night. When someone comes into the room to investigate the sound, the music stops and will only start again when they leave.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Scores of people have filed strange reports about the house. In recent times, various owners have taken advantage of the Myrtles' infamous reputation and the place is now open to guests for tours and as a haunted bed and breakfast. Rooms are rented in the house and in cottages on the grounds. The plantation has played host to a wide variety of guests from curiosity-seekers to historians to ghost hunters. Over the years, a number of films and documentaries have also been shot on the ground and many of them have been paranormal in nature.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One film, which was decidedly not paranormal, was a television mini-series remake of <i>The Long Hot Summer</i>, starring Don Johnson, Cybill Shepherd, Ava Gardner and Jason Robards. A portion of the film was shot at the Myrtles and it was an experience that the cast and crew would not soon forget. One day, the crew moved the furniture in the game room and the dining room for filming and then left. When they returned, they reported that the furniture had all been moved back to its original position. No one was inside either room while the crew was absent. This happened several times, to the crew’s dismay, although they did manage to get the shots they needed. They added that the cast was happy to move on to another set once the filming at The Myrtles was completed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The employees at the house often get the worst of the events that happen here. They are often exposed, first-hand, to happenings that would have weaker folks running from the place in terror. And some of them do! One employee was hired to greet guests at the front gate each day. One day while he was at work, a woman in a white, old-fashioned dress walked through the gate without speaking to him. She strolled up to the house and vanished through the front door without ever opening it. The gateman quit his job and never returned to the house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Myrtles can be a perplexing place. History has shown that many of the stories that have been told about the place, mostly to explain the hauntings, never actually occurred. In spite of this, the house seems to be haunted anyway. The truth seems to be an elusive thing at this grand old plantation house but there seems to be no question for those who have stayed or visited here that it is a spirited place. At the Myrtles Plantation, the ghosts of the past – whoever they might be -- are never very far away from the living of the present.</span><br />
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-8945420536999454442016-07-31T10:10:00.000-05:002016-07-31T10:10:07.637-05:00"STRANGE LOVE"<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>THE MORBID OBSESSION OF CARL VAN COSEL</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Key West has always home to some of America’s
great eccentrics. It’s a place that, far removed from the mainland of America,
that serves as sort of the last outpost for writers, dreamers, musicians, and
weirdos. I consider it one of the greatest places on earth, if that tells you
anything. But in 1940, news spread around the island that something very
strange was taking place in “Dr. von Cosel’s” local laboratory and when details
were revealed about what it was – we finally discovered just what was “too much”
even for Key West folks to handle.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VncxaVZN9oA/V54Tf5FFXcI/AAAAAAAAEqs/3EzqhTRWh78f13aLnkI79Dh1tZE21D_GACLcB/s1600/tanzler%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-VncxaVZN9oA/V54Tf5FFXcI/AAAAAAAAEqs/3EzqhTRWh78f13aLnkI79Dh1tZE21D_GACLcB/s400/tanzler%2B2.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /><b>Maria Elena Milagro de Hoyos</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">July 31, 1909, marks the birthdate of Maria
Elena Milagro de Hoyos, the daughter of a Key West cigar maker named Francisco “Pancho”
Hoyos, and his wife, Aurora. Maria Elena had a bit of a tragic life. She had a
sister who died from tuberculosis and a brother-in-law who was electrocuted on
a construction site. Soon after she was married, she miscarried and a child and
her husband abandoned her and moved to Miami. To make matters worse, Maria
Elena also contracted tuberculosis, a typically fatal disease at the time. She
sought treatment at the United States Marine Hospital in Key West, and that’s
when her story takes a very strange turn. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-duoctcgZjTo/V54Tfzc06HI/AAAAAAAAEqk/3WN5gUpiS0UbwxZBHMcOI6-xwKb2qbh0ACEw/s1600/tanzler%2B1A.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-duoctcgZjTo/V54Tfzc06HI/AAAAAAAAEqk/3WN5gUpiS0UbwxZBHMcOI6-xwKb2qbh0ACEw/s400/tanzler%2B1A.jpg" width="318" /></a><br /><b>Carl Tanzler -- or, as he liked to call himself, Carl von Cosel</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While at the hospital, she met a German-born
radiologic technologist named Carl Tanzler – or as he liked to refer to
himself, “Carl von Cosel.” Tanzler actually had many names. He was born Karl
Tanzler, or George Karl Tänzler on February 8, 1877 in Dresden, Germany. Little
is known about his true background because his invented one was so confusing,
and changed often. He grew up in Germany, but claimed to have traveled to India
and Australia, where did electrical work, bought boats, purchased a South Seas
island, and began building a trans-ocean flying plane around the time of World
War I. When the war broke out, he alleged that he was jailed by British
authorities for “safe-keeping” and was released at war’s end. We do know that
he emigrated to the United States in 1926, via Cuba. From Cuba, he settled in Zephyrhills,
Florida, where his sister lived. In 1927, he took a job at the U.S. Marine
Hospital, using the name Carl von Cosel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was at the hospital that he met Elena Hoyos
and he immediately fell in love with her. He later claimed that, as a child, he
was visited by visions of a dead ancestor, Countess Anna Constantia von Cosel,
who revealed to him the face of his true love, an exotic dark-haired woman. He
was convinced the vision had been of Elena. Tanzler, with his self-professed
medical knowledge, attempted to treat and cure her with a variety of medicines,
as well as x-ray and electrical equipment, that were brought to Maria’s home.
He showered her with gifts of jewelry and clothing, and professed his love to
her. There is nothing to say that Elena ever reciprocated his affections. It’s
likely that she was baffled by the attention being given to her by the strange
little man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Despite Tanzler's best efforts, Elena died from
tuberculosis at her parents' home in on October 25, 1931. Tanzler paid for her
funeral, and with the permission of her family he then commissioned the
construction of an above-ground mausoleum in the Key West Cemetery, which he visited
almost every night. No one knows what finally pushed Tanzler over the edge but
it’s believed that he “heard” Elena calling to him from her grave, asking him
to free her from her stone prison. He later stated that Elena’s spirit appeared
to him when he sat next to her tomb and serenaded her with her favorite song. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b>Elena Hoyos's tomb in Key West Cemetery</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, one night in April 1933, Tanzler crept into
the cemetery and removed Elena’s body from the mausoleum, carting it out of the
graveyard in a toy wagon. He took her home with him – and that’s when things
got even stranger. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tanzler wired Elena’s bones together with wire
and coat hangers, and fitted her face with glass eyes. As her skin began to
decompose, he replaced it with silk cloth that had been soaked in wax and
plaster. When her hair fell out, he fashioned a wig from hair that had been
given to him by Elena’s mother, soon after her funeral in 1931. He filled her
cadaver with rags so that she could keep her original form and he dressed Elena
in her own clothing, stockings, jewelry, and gloves. Tanzler also used copious
amounts of perfume, disinfectants, and preserving agents to mask the odor and
slow the decomposition of the body. He had to do so – because he kept Elena’s
body in his bed. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CszyK1az7es/V54TgFlmG9I/AAAAAAAAEq4/B4OB-WpTV38BYk61GXjHdZwoCYj_lCrGQCEw/s1600/tanzler%2B5.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="266" src="https://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CszyK1az7es/V54TgFlmG9I/AAAAAAAAEq4/B4OB-WpTV38BYk61GXjHdZwoCYj_lCrGQCEw/s400/tanzler%2B5.jpg" width="400" /></a><br /><b>Elena's corpse was discovered in Tanzler's bed</b></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Eboh06S_prQ/V54Tf5luM-I/AAAAAAAAEq4/vAGuSjO_Au431uetKq1zw5kSHHWchkI5ACEw/s1600/tanzler%2B1B.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-Eboh06S_prQ/V54Tf5luM-I/AAAAAAAAEq4/vAGuSjO_Au431uetKq1zw5kSHHWchkI5ACEw/s400/tanzler%2B1B.jpg" width="316" /></a></div>
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<b>The body was bound together by wire, wax, and plaster and dressed in Elena's clothing. The wig was even made from her hair. </b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In October, 1940, Elena's sister, Florinda,
heard rumors of Tanzler sleeping with the disinterred body of her sister, and
confronted Tanzler at his home, where Elena’s body was discovered. Tanzler was
arrested and detained – for desecrating Elena’s tomb. Stealing her corpse was
not illegal at the time. Tanzler was examined by psychiatrists, but they found
him mentally competent to stand trial. After a preliminary hearing, though, the
charges had to be dismissed. The statute of limitations for the crime had
expired. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The case drew the attention of South Florida
newspapers and it created a sensation among the public, both regionally and
across the country. Believe it or not, the public mood toward Tanzler was
generally sympathetic. Many viewed the eccentric German as “romantic.” There
was no conclusive evidence at the time that Carl had sexual relations with
Elena’s corpse, but later examinations suggested that it was possible. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During the furor over the story, Elena’s body
was examined by pathologists and then put on public display at the Dean-Lopez
Funeral Home in Key West, where it was seen by nearly 7,000 people. Elena’s
corpse was eventually returned to the Key West Cemetery and was reburied in an
unmarked grave, in a secret location, to prevent any further tampering. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the aftermath of the discovery, Tanzler left
Key West, but he didn’t do so in shame. He returned to Zephyrhills, Florida, and
wrote an autobiography that appeared in the pulp magazine, <i>Fantastic Adventures</i> in 1947. He became a U.S. citizen in Tampa in
1950. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He never got over his obsession with Elena
Hoyos. Still longing for his lost love, he created a “death mask” of her as the
basis for a life-sized dummy, which he kept in his bed until his death on July
3, 1952. Some accounts of Tanzler’s death claim his body was actually found in
the arms of the dummy, but this is merely wishful thinking by those of morbid sensibilities.
According to his obituary, he died on the floor of his home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was noted, though, that overlooking his
corpse was a “waxen image, wrapped in silken cloth and a robe.” It seems that
his replacement Elena was with him to the very end. </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-55285555667216235772016-03-21T18:40:00.000-05:002016-03-21T18:40:18.100-05:00THE LEGEND OF "LAKEVIEW"<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>The Story of the Hartford Castle</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the night of March 21, 1973, the sound of
sirens filled the air along New Poag Road, not far from Alton and Wood River,
Illinois. By the time the fire engines reached the house once known as the “Hartford
Castle,” though, it was much too late. What time and vandals had not been able
to destroy, flames finally did. A house that was once connected to local tales
of death, Prohibition booze, and ghosts was gone, leaving only a legend behind.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lakeview, as the Hartford Castle was officially
known, was constructed by a French immigrant named Benjamin Biszant in 1897.
The castle-like house with the red-capped turrets was incredibly expensive,
although the source of Biszant's wealth remains unknown. Most believe that he
may have been an insurance executive, a contractor or an investor of some sort.
Whatever his profession, he purchased a large section of land near Hartford and
began construction on what was to be a "dream house" for his English
bride. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qayRkE9_dvw/VvCFzr--FZI/AAAAAAAAElY/9vx46Pl77fQ4Uwq88wOXcRDnmaVqMx8Wg/s1600/hartford%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-qayRkE9_dvw/VvCFzr--FZI/AAAAAAAAElY/9vx46Pl77fQ4Uwq88wOXcRDnmaVqMx8Wg/s400/hartford%2B1.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>Hartford Castle during its glory days</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Teams of workers with horses were brought in and
a moat was excavated around what would be the home site. The soil that was
removed from it formed a rise on which Lakeview was built. When the house was
completed, it boasted turrets that loomed high above the surrounding
countryside, and 14 rooms. The floors were made of imported cypress wood and
the ceilings supported by hand-carved columns. Crystal chandeliers were used in
mirror-lined main hall and music could often be heard drifting out over the
fields in the evening. The landscaped gardens were decorated with gazebos and
statuary and Biszant scattered his own concrete creations of animals and
cannons about the grounds. A stone bridge was built to reach an island in the
middle of one of the small lakes that adjoined the moat and the lakes were used
for boating and swimming. Biszant stocked them with goldfish.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tragically, though, Biszant's wife died in the
early 1900s and he returned her body to England. After that, he lost interest
in the castle, and sold it before moving to California. Not long after, the
ghost stories that became attached to the place began to be told. According to
these tales, the lingering spirit was that of the Frenchman's wife, still
haunting the place that she loved most in life. The ghost stories became a part
of the house and they continued to be heard for years after, through various
owners and even now, long after the house has been destroyed.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The castle passed through the hands of several
owners after Biszant sold it and was rumored to have been used at one time as a
boy's military school and later as a home for unwed mothers. Neither of these
uses were ever verified. In the early 1920s, it was turned into a resort and
during this period was believed to have been operated for a time as a
speakeasy. The house was not far enough off the main roads that it could not be
found and yet was secluded enough that the party-goers and gangsters who flocked
to the place were not bothered. If the speakeasy stories were true, those days
did not last long, and the resort was later closed down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Shortly after, the castle was purchased by a
couple from Wood River and they lived in the house until 1964. Soon after they
moved in, they began to have problems with intruders and trespassers. The
castle seemed to be viewed by the public as community property, or a park, and
the owners stated that people would often just roam through the 35 acres at all
hours of the day and night. Some even broke into the house and wandered from
room to room, as if on a tour. The grounds were apparently too attractive, with
the landscaped gardens and statuary, for people to stay away. And like the
gangsters of times past, teenagers often congregated in secluded spots on the
estate for clandestine beer parties or searched out the best place to serve as
a "lover's lane." Hoping to counteract this invasion of privacy, the
family opened the grounds to the public on weekends for several years but,
eventually, this practice ended and the property was again closed down. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1964, the owner died and his wife moved back
into Wood River. There were attempts to rent the house after that, hoping that
someone would just remain on the grounds to protect it from vandalism, but this
plan fell through and maintenance on the house and property ended with the
owner's death. The estate began crumbling into ruin and the lawn became thick
and overgrown. By 1971, the house had fallen into disrepair and was showing
signs of damage from thieves and vandals. The cruelest blow came the following
year when intruders gutted the residence, ripped mantels from the fireplaces,
broke windows, and using a small telephone pole as a battering ram, smashed
huge holes in the plaster walls. The senseless and stupid destruction led to
the house being officially condemned by county inspectors.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The final blow was dealt to the castle on March
21, 1973, when it burned to the ground. An alarm was sounded but by the time
that firefighters arrived on the scene, only a tall chimney and burning embers
remained of the once grand mansion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jQGWlVXkDkA/VvCFzpkoaCI/AAAAAAAAElg/CgDtlAzqG78YHFpXykauGQgLdDwQKO_Dw/s1600/hartford%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-jQGWlVXkDkA/VvCFzpkoaCI/AAAAAAAAElg/CgDtlAzqG78YHFpXykauGQgLdDwQKO_Dw/s400/hartford%2B2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>The remains of an old gazebo on the property</b></div>
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<a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xjKfb3xGAtw/VvCFzvmrkyI/AAAAAAAAElc/O1ZzZh7NJ_g6lZFEymzDFe5HR2y-fSWzg/s1600/hartford%2B3.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="300" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-xjKfb3xGAtw/VvCFzvmrkyI/AAAAAAAAElc/O1ZzZh7NJ_g6lZFEymzDFe5HR2y-fSWzg/s400/hartford%2B3.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<b>The statue of a dog found out in the woods</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The site of the former “castle” can still be
found in a cluster of thick woods and brambles, just off New Poag Road, on the
other side of Hartford. Only those who know of the place would have any clue
that the ruins of the estate still remain as broken columns, a few pieces of
shattered statuary, and the dim outline of the castle's moat. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This is a place that has been truly lost by time
and one that, according to legend, remains haunted by the Frenchman's wife,
even today. There are those who maintain that her spectral form can still be
seen wandering through the remains of the estate and that her voice can still
be heard as she weeps for the life and the wonderful home that she lost. Others
insist that old-time music can still sometimes be heard as well. They say that
it floats through the trees and above the fields on summer nights when the
crops are tall and when sound seems to carry for miles. Perhaps in another time
and place, Lakeview still stands and the party still continues, beckoning to
all of us from a distant memory that is now long since forgotten.</span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-12906990852128853522016-03-19T09:00:00.000-05:002016-03-19T09:00:00.212-05:00MURDER ON SAXTOWN ROAD<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>History & Mystery of the Millstadt Ax Murders</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The small town of Millstadt is located just a few miles from Belleville, a long-established and prosperous town that is located across the Mississippi River from St. Louis. Millstadt has always been known as a quiet community. It was settled long ago by German immigrants who came to America to work hard, be industrious, and keep to themselves. It was a place where nothing bad could ever really happen – or at least that’s what the residents there in the latter part of the nineteenth century believed. However, the murders that occurred on Saxtown Road forever shattered that illusion. When a local German family was brutally slaughtered in 1874, it created a dark, unsolved mystery – and a haunting that continues today. </span><br />
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<a href="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1DXDgY4SlDg/VuyncR9Z1_I/AAAAAAAAElA/E0riVDWvgQ01udE8Y8Kc4UnASqulPV0kA/s1600/millstadt.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="317" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-1DXDgY4SlDg/VuyncR9Z1_I/AAAAAAAAElA/E0riVDWvgQ01udE8Y8Kc4UnASqulPV0kA/s400/millstadt.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">On March 19, 1874, Carl Stelzenreide, age 70, his son, Frederick, 35, Frederick’s wife, Anna, 28, and their children, Carl, 3, and Anna, 8 months, were found brutally murdered in their home on Saxton Road, located outside of Millstadt. The grisly crime was discovered by a neighbor, Benjamin Schneider, who had arrived at the Stelzenreide home early that morning to collect some potato seeds from Carl Steltzenreide. As he approached the home, he found that the area was eerily still. The horses and cattle that were fenced in the front lot had not been watered or fed and no one was taking care of the morning chores.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Schneider knocked on the front door, but no one answered. He called out and looked in the window, but it was too dark inside the house for him to see anything. Finally, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. As he stepped in, he looked down and saw the body of Frederick Steltzenreide on the floor, lying in a large pool of blood. The young man had been savagely beaten and his throat had been cut. Three of his fingers had been severed. Panicked, Schneider began looking for the other members of the family. He found Anna and her children lying on a bed. All of them had been bludgeoned to death and Anna’s throat had been cut. Her infant daughter, baby Anna, was lying across her chest, her small arms wrapped around her mother’s neck. Her son, Carl, was found next to her. His facial features were unrecognizable because of the brutal blows that he had sustained to his head. All three of them had apparently been murdered as they slept. In a separate bedroom, Schneider found Carl Steltzenreide. He had been struck so many times, apparently with an ax, that he was nearly decapitated. His body was sprawled on the bloodstained floor and it was later surmised that he had been roused from his bed by noises in the house and been struck down as he attempted to come to the aid of his family. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As Schneider looked frantically around, he realized that blood was on the floor, had sprayed wildly onto the walls, and even stained the ceiling of the house. He saw chips and indentions in the plaster that were later determined to have been made by a “maddox,” a combination tool with the head of an ax and a large blade resembling a garden hoe. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The only survivor of the carnage was the family dog, Monk. He was found lying on the floor next to Anna’s bed, keeping watch over the bodies of the mother and her children. Monk was known to be very protective of the family, and downright vicious toward strangers. This fact would lead investigators to believe that the killer, or killers, was someone known to the family. They also believed that the killer entered the house through a rear door, killing Anna and the children first. Carl was killed when he heard the struggles in the bedroom and Frederick was killed last. He had been sleeping on a lounge near the front of the house and had been murdered after a hand-to-hand struggle with the murderer.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Schneider quickly left and summoned help. The authorities called to nearby Belleville for assistance and several sheriff’s deputies and detectives answered the call. Soon after arriving, Deputy Sheriff Hughes discovered footsteps leading away from the house. As they were examined, it was noted that the prints had been made by boots that were cobbled with heavy nails, making them very distinctive. Hughes also found indentions in the ground that looked as though they had been made by someone dragging a heavy ax. He followed the tracks for about a mile and at the end of the trail, he found a pouch of partially chewed tobacco that was covered with blood. He deduced that the killer had been wounded during his attack on the family and had attempted to stem the bleeding with chewing tobacco, a popular folk remedy that was believed to draw the infection from a cut. </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The footprints, and the bloody tobacco pouch, led the police to the home of Frederick Boeltz, the brother-in-law of Frederick Steltzenreide. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Boeltz was married to Anna Stelzenreide’s sister and there had been a dispute between Boeltz and Frederick Steltzenreide because $200 that Boeltz had borrowed and never repaid. The two had quarreled over the debt several times. Boeltz was friends with an itinerant farm worked named John Afken, who had once worked for the Steltzenreide family and who also harbored a grudge against Frederick. Afken was a large and powerful man who made his living as a “grubber,” a backbreaking occupation that involved clearing trees and rocks from farm lots. He was considered an expert with an ax, as well as other hand tools, and was feared by many because of his quick temper. He also possessed another characteristic that was of interest to the investigators – he had a full head of light red hair.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Carl Steltzenreide had died clutching a handful of hair that was exactly the same color.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> The bodies of the Steltzenreide family were prepared for burial by ladies from the Zion United Church of Christ in Millstadt. This gruesome task was carried out in the Steltzenreide barn, which still stands on the property today. The corpses were in such horrific condition that a number of the women became sick while washing them and had to be relieved. The killer had savaged the bodies so badly with his ax that the adults were nearly decapitated and the children were bloodied and pummeled beyond recognition. It was brutality like nothing these small town folks had ever seen before.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The family was laid to rest on Sunday, March 22, at Frievogel Cemetery, located just a few miles from their home on Saxtown Road. The news of the horror spread across the region in newspaper accounts and even appeared on the front page of the New York Times. The terror and curiosity that gripped the area brought more than 1,000 people to the Stelzenreide’s funeral service.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Immediately after the burial, Deputy Hughes arrested Frederick Boeltz and John Afken on suspicion of murder. Boeltz, initially resisted arrest, but then demanded to be provided with a bible while locked away in the Belleville city jail. Afken, on the other hand, was said to have displayed an uncanny lack of emotion. He accompanied the officers to jail, and remained silent while in custody. During the coroner’s inquest that followed the arrest, Boeltz refused to face the jury and when shown photographs of the victims’ bodies, he refused to look at them. The two men were brought before a grand jury in April 1874, but the jury was unable to indict them. They believed there was insufficient evidence to connect them to the murders. Both suspects were released a week later. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Although the authorities had been unable to indict their main suspects in the case, the investigation into the two men’s activities and motives did not come to an end. Investigators believed more strongly than ever that Boeltz was somehow involved in the murders and they based this on the fact that the cash and valuables inside of the Steltzenreide house had been undisturbed. They believed there was a motive that was darker than mere robbery for the crime – and that Boeltz was definitely involved.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Just a few days before he was killed, on March 16, Frederick Steltzenreide confided to some friends and neighbors that he had just received a substantial inheritance from relatives in Germany. He was at an auction at the time he broke the news and he was seen carrying a large willow basket that was covered with an oilcloth. Rumor had it that the basket contained the inheritance, which Frederick had collected at the bank just before attending the auction. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The Steltzenreide estate was reportedly worth several thousand dollars at the time of the murder. Investigators surmised that the wholesale slaughter of the family might have been an attempt to wipe out all of the immediate heirs to the estate. They believed that Frederick Boeltz, motivated by his dislike for Frederick Steltzenreide and his belief that he would inherit the money because of his marriage to Anna’s sister, had hired John Afken to commit the murders. It was a viable theory to explain the massacre, but the police were never able to make it stick.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Boeltz later brought suit against the Steltzenreide estate in an effort to collect whatever money he could. He was eventually awarded $400 and soon after, he and his family moved away from the area and vanished into history.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">John Afken remained in the Millstadt area and legend has it that he was often seen carrying a gold pocket watch. When asked where he had gotten such an impressive timepiece, because it seemed much nicer than anything he could afford, Afken would only smile. Some whispered that the pocket watch looked exactly like one that Carl Steltzenreide once owned.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The Steltzenreide home was torn down in August 1954. According to a report that appeared in the Millstadt Enterprise newspaper at the time, the owners of the property, Leslie Jines and his family, were “glad to tuck the tale out of the way with whatever ghosts are there.” The owners found it easy to get rid of the cursed, old house but the ghosts that lingered there were not so easily dismissed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A more recent owner of the property, and a house that stands at the site, was Randy Eckert. In 2004, he told a reporter from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch that he believed the land where the murders took place was haunted. His first experience occurred one morning when he and his wife were awakened by strange noises. They both heard the sounds of doors opening and closing in the house, although nothing was disturbed. They weren’t the only ones to hear something. The family dog, which had been sleeping at the foot of the bed, was also awakened by the mysterious sounds and was terrified and shaking. Eckert added that the sounds were repeated many times over the years, always around the anniversary of the murders.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Chris Nauman, who rented the house from Eckert in the early 1990s, reported his own chilling occurrences: “It was 6 o’clock in the morning, and there was a loud knock on the door. At the same time, my girlfriend heard someone walking up the steps in our basement.” Nauman, startled by the sounds, quickly checked the front door and the basement stairs, but found no sign of visitors or intruders. The next day, he shared his story with Randy Eckert, asking him about the anniversary of the Steltzenreide murders. Eckert confirmed it for him – the ghostly happenings had taken place on March 19, the anniversary of the murders.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Nauman still remembers the effect this had on him, “A cold shiver ran up my spine.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">To this day, the slaughter of the Steltzenreide family remains unsolved. While many suspects have been suggested over the years, there is no clear answer to the mystery. The area where the house once stood along Saxtown Road has changed very little since 1874, and it’s not hard to imagine the sheer terror of those who lived nearby after news of the murders began to spread. It’s a lonely, isolated area and, if the stories are to be believed, a haunted one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But what ghosts still walk in this place? Are they the tragic spirits of the Steltzenreides, still mourning the fact that their deaths have never been avenged? Or do the phantom footsteps and spectral knockings signal the presence of the killer’s wicked wraith, perhaps forced to remain here as a penance for the crime that he never answered to while among the living?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">We may never really know, but for now, the haunting continues and the people of Millstadt continue to remember the day when horror visited their little town.</span><br />
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-89450146414726008632016-03-18T13:08:00.000-05:002016-03-18T13:22:31.675-05:00THE MOST HAUNTED HOUSE IN OHIO?<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>The True Story of Franklin Castle</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In the middle 1990s, when I began writing about ghosts and hauntings across the Midwest, there was one house that I was frequently referred to by people in Ohio – Franklin Castle. Officially known as the Tiedemann mansion, the unusual structure had long been called the most haunted house in the state. During its long and rather odd history, the ghosts became an integral part of its lore. For years, tales were told of doors that exploded off their hinges, lights that spun around on their own, electrical circuits that behaved erratically, the inexplicable sounds of a baby crying, and even a woman in black who had been spotted staring forlornly from a small window in the front tower room.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">According to local tales, there have always been ghosts in this house. And this should come as no surprise considering the dark deeds, murders, and diabolical events that have been linked to this place. But how many of those stories are true, and how many are merely the stuff of legend? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>Hannes Tiedemann</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">At the edge of Franklin Boulevard in Cleveland, you’ll find the castle – a place where it is hard to separate fact from fiction. It’s an eerie and forbidding stone structure that has long been considered a spooky place by history buffs, architects, and the general public alike. Rising high above the street, its stone tower looms over the property. The exterior is adorned with menacing gargoyles and for decades, its windows were dark and filled with shadows. There were originally over thirty rooms in the house and intricate carvings filled the interior. The entire third floor was a grand ballroom and the top floor offered sweeping views of the city and Lake Erie. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">And, of course, there were the rumors. Secret passageways, it was said, honeycombed the house and sliding panels were used to hide the entrances to these hidden corridors. It was claimed that a young girl was once murdered in one of these hallways by her uncle, because he believed her to be insane. In the front tower, a gruesome ax murder had once taken place and it was in that tower that one of the former owners found a secret cabinet that contained human bones. Cleveland’s Deputy Coroner, Dr. Lester Adelson, examined the bones in January 1975 and stated that they were very old, and definitely human. Many believed that the forgotten bones had been left there by the house’s original owner, a successful banker with a penchant for evil.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Hannes Tiedemann was a German immigrant to Cleveland, who started out as a barrel-maker and a wholesale grocer. He later turned to banking and founded the Euclid Avenue Savings & Trust, which made him very successful and very wealthy. He decided that he wanted a grand home that befit his newly acquired social status and hired the famed Cleveland architectural firm of Cuddell and Richardson to build it for him. When the house was designed in the late nineteenth century, Franklin Boulevard was one of the most upscale residential areas in Cleveland, perhaps second only to Euclid Avenue’s so-called “Millionaire’s Row.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The house was built over the period of 1881-1883 and it was meant to not only provide an upscale residence for his family, but also to provide a temporary place for friends, family, and others emigrating from Germany to stay when they first arrived in Cleveland. The house replaced an earlier house on the property, which was torn down during the construction of the castle. Hannes moved into the house with his wife, Louise; his mother, Wiebeka; their children, August, Emma, and Dora; and several servants. More children were born, but the stories say that life in the castle was never happy. By 1891, it had turned tragic.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In January 1891, Tiedemman’s mother and his daughter, Emma, died within weeks of one another. Although Wiebeka’s death was from natural causes, Emma died from diabetes. In those days, death from the disease came as a horrible, lingering starvation for which there was no cure. Over the next three years, the Tiedemann family would bury three more children, one of them just 11 days old. It truly seemed as though the family was cursed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">To take his wife’s mind off the tragedies, Tiedemann began extensive renovations on the house. It was during this expansion that the ballroom was added to the third floor, as well as the turrets and gargoyles on the exterior, giving the house a more castle-like appearance. Gas lighting was also installed throughout the house and, the legends say, so were the secret passages, concealed rooms, and hidden doors. Unfortunately, though, the hidden passageways and secret chambers in the house have vanished with time – if they existed at all. No trace of them can be found today, other than a small stairway that was used by the servants to get from the kitchen to the front door, which were commonly found in large homes of the era.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Of course, the absence of such mysterious passages tends to cast doubt on some of the more heinous stories of the house – that Hannes Tiedemann used the tunnels for his sexual indiscretions and even to commit murder. In one tunnel, leading away from the ballroom, Tiedemann was supposed to have murdered his niece by hanging her from a rafter. She was insane, it has been said, and he did it to put her out of her misery. He is also supposed to have murdered a young servant girl on her wedding day because she spurned his advances. Another version of this story claims the murdered woman was actually Tiedemman’s mistress, killed because she wanted to marry another man. Some say she is the woman in black who haunts the tower room. But, if there are no “secret passages” in the house, do the stories of the murders committed in them – stories that seem to form the foundation for the ghost stories in the house – have any truth to them at all?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Even without them, however, there was still plenty of death and tragedy linked to the house. On March 24, 1895, Louise Tiedemann died at the age of 57 from liver failure. Hannes remarried a short time later, leading many to speculate about the circumstances of Louise’s death. Soon after, Tiedemann sold the castle to a local brewing family named Mullhauser and moved to a grander home on Lake Road. His second marriage did not last long. He divorced her after only a year, leaving her with nothing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">By 1908, Tiedemann’s entire family, including his son, August, and his grandsons, had passed away. There was no one left to inherit his fortune or to comfort him in his old age. Tiedemann died later that same year, suffering a massive stroke while walking in the park one day. Had the curse been lifted from the house, or was more tragedy coming?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>The “Haunted House”</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In 1913, the Mullhauser family sold the castle to the local German Socialist Party, who officially used the house for meetings and parties. Rumors quickly spread, though, that the Socialists were actually using the place as a headquarters for spy efforts during World War I. Years later, a German shortwave radio was allegedly found hidden in the rafters. The infamous “secret passages” were claimed to be the scene of a brutal murder during the Germans Socialist occupation of the house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The house was mainly unoccupied during this time, but it’s possible that they may have rented out at least portions of it. During an interview in the 1970s, a Cleveland nurse recalled that she had cared for an ailing attorney in the castle in the 1930s. She remembered being often terrified at night by the sound of a small child crying. More than 40 years later, she told a reporter that she "would never set foot in that house again."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In January 1968, the German Socialist group sold the house to James Romano. Romano, his wife, and their six children, soon moved into the mansion, a place that Mrs. Romano had always been fascinated with. They planned to open a restaurant in the house, but soon changed their minds. On the very day that the family moved in, she sent her children upstairs to play. A little while later, they came back downstairs and asked if they could have a cookie for their new friend, a little girl who was upstairs crying. Mrs. Romano followed the children back upstairs, but found no little girl. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Mrs. Romano also reported hearing organ music coming from different parts of the house, footsteps in the hallways and on the stairs, disembodied voices, and the sounds of people coming from the former ballroom. The Romanos consulted a Catholic priest, who declined to do an exorcism, but told them that he sensed a bad presence in the house. He advised them to leave. Instead, they turned to the now-defunct Northeast Ohio Psychical Research Group, who decided to investigate the castle. If the stories are to be believed, one of the ghost hunters actually ran screaming from the house in the middle of the investigation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">After enduring years of ghostly activity, the Romanos had reached their limit by 1974, and sold the house to Sam Muscatello, who was eager to cash in on the castle’s eerie reputation. He began offering guided tours of the house and making notes about alleged encounters by visitors with the woman in black, strange sounds, vanishing objects, and cold spots in the castle. He also used the media to generate publicity and once, during a live segment on Cleveland radio, host John Webster had a tape recorder pulled off his shoulder and thrown down a staircase. Webster later recalled, "I just stood there holding the microphone as I watched the tape recorder go flying down to the bottom of the stairs, where it broke into pieces."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Another time, during a television piece, crew member Ted Ocepec witnessed a hanging ceiling light that suddenly began turning in circular motions. Someone suggested that perhaps traffic vibrations on the street outside had caused the movement of the light. Ocepec didn’t think so. "I just don’t know," he said, "but there’s something in that house."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Muscatello began searching for the alleged secret passages in the house and that was when he found a pile of human bones behind a panel in the tower. Although few deny that real human bones were removed from the castle, whom they belonged to and how they ended up there has been debated. Some took the bones as proof that Hannes Tiedemann was the murderer that legend claimed him to be, but others, however, believe that Muscatello stashed the bones there as “evidence” behind the haunting at Franklin Castle. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Unable to make the castle into the tourist attraction that he had hoped it would be, Muscatello eventually decided to sell the place. It was purchased by a doctor, who later sold the house – for the same price he paid for it – to Cleveland’s Police Chief Richard Hongisto. The chief and his wife declared that the mansion would be the perfect place to live but then, less than a year later, they abruptly sold the house to George Mirceta, who knew nothing of the mansion’s reputation at the time. He bought the castle because of its gothic architecture, but soon learned that it was alleged to be haunted. Following in the footsteps of the Sam Mustatello, he started offering tours of the place.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Mirceta lived alone in the house, but had many visitors. During his tours, he asked his visitors to record any of their strange experiences in a guest book before they left. Some claimed to see a woman in white, others a woman in black. Some told of hearing babies crying, or seeing things move about. One woman even claimed that she felt like she was being choked in the tower room. Mirceta admitted that he couldn’t explain all of his experiences in the house, but he maintained that it was not haunted. If it was, he told a reporter, he would too scared to live there. "There has to be a logical explanation for everything," he told an interviewer.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>To the Present Day</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In 1984, the house was sold again. It was purchased by Michael DeVinko, who almost immediately began making major renovations to the house. DeVinko, whose stage name was Mickey Dean and who was the last husband of singer and actress Judy Garland, spent close to $1 million restoring the house over the next decade. He claimed to have no problems with the resident ghosts, but surmised that it may have been because he was taking care of the old place again. He successfully tracked down the original blueprints to the house, some of the Tiedemann furniture, and even the original key to the front door, which still worked. Despite all this, DeVinko still decided to move out and put the house up for sale in 1994. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The castle was sold again in 1999, but was torched by an arsonist soon after, causing substantial damage to the place. The new owner spent a large sum of money in repairs but was never able to complete the restoration of the house. During the time that he worked on the house, the owner stated that he was unsure if it was haunted, or whether he believed in ghosts at all. However, he did say that many of his friends and family had odd experiences in the castle. He added that it was not a scary place, but it was a little creepy, especially in the middle of the night. He said, “I've heard strange sounds and hoped to see something or hear something that would prove to me that ghosts exist, but so far it hasn't happened. So far it's been no spookier than sleeping alone in any old house that creaks in the wind or has rattling pipes."</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In 2003, the house was sold once more and the new owner, a local land developer, announced hopes of renovating the mansion and turning it into the Franklin Castle Club, with a restricted membership. But three years later, it was discovered that there was no truth to the “plan.” No repairs had been made and photographs that had been publicized were either close-ups of individual pieces of architecture, or were older pictures from other sources. No work had been done, no memberships sold, and there were even claims that the house had been used a location for filming pornography. The owners were no longer permitted to allow anyone on the property.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Five more years passed and in July 2011, it was announced that the castle had been rezoned to allow it to become a three-family dwelling, and a sale was pending. It was purchased later that year by a European tapestry artist named Chiara Dona dale Rose. A permit was granted for residential exterior alterations in 2012 and local news sources reported that it was to be converted into a multiple-unit property. Renovations have been made, but it remains a work in progress, and closed to the public.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Is Franklin Castle truly as haunted as the stories say, or are the legends of the house simply tall tales that were overblown by previous owners to get paying tourists in the door? At this point, no one can say for sure. As more of the incorrect history of the house has been debunked, the source of the ghost stories becomes harder to find. But if we dismiss the stories of Hannes Tiedemann as a brutal killer and the tales of secret passages and mysterious murders, does that mean the castle is not haunted at all? No, I don’t believe that it does. No matter what, the castle is a place that is marked by both tragedy and death and the events of the past may have certainly left an impression behind. As with other legendary spots, it may turn out that Franklin Castle is just as haunted as we have already heard that it is – just not for the reasons that myth and legends about the place like to claim.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">By Troy Taylor / American Hauntings<br /><a href="http://americanhauntings.net/" target="_blank">Click Here to Visit the Website!</a></span><br />
<br />Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-59040758369449935122016-02-12T12:29:00.000-06:002016-02-12T12:29:53.644-06:00THE "AMERICAN TRAGEDY" MURDER<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Did Life Imitate Art in 1934?</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was the summer of 1906 and a young woman
named Grace Brown – 20-years-old and a few months pregnant – was on her way to
the Adirondacks region of New York to be married, or so she thought. She had
spent the last several months living on her parents’ farm, writing desperate
letters to her boyfriend, Chester Gillette, begging him to marry her and make
an honest woman out of her. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Chester, who claimed that he loved the pretty
young woman, had no urge to settle down. Although he came from a poor family, Chester
was college educated and his uncle owned the factory where Grace had worked. He
believed he was several social rungs above his lover, a young girl that he had
seduced and then forgotten. He wanted to marry one of the daughters of a
wealthy man in town, not a struggling factory worker and daughter of poor
farmers. He pursued other women and when Grace learned of this, she threatened
to expose her pregnancy and ruin his life – but all that would be forgotten if
they married. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The threat seemed to have the desired effect and
Chester invited Grace on vacation to the Adirondacks. It was a sort of
pre-wedding honeymoon. On July 6, they checked into the Glenmore Inn on Big
Moose Lake, using assumed names. After settling in, they rented a rowboat for a
picnic on the lake. The boat was never returned and Grace was never seen alive
again. Her drowned corpse was found floating in the lake the following morning.
Chester was arrested three days later. Although he claimed to be innocent, he
was tried for Grace’s murder, convicted, and died in the electric chair in
March 1908. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The trial was a media sensation, but was soon
forgotten. The sad tale would have likely faded into obscurity if not for
author Theodore Dreiser. For years, the writer had been searching for a crime
that embodied his own personal obsessions with sex and social ambitions in
America. He found the perfect material in the life and crimes of Chester
Gillette. In 1925, he published his bestselling work, <i>An American Tragedy</i>, based on the murder. The story of the trusting
young woman and her murderous, social-climbing beau became a part of American
culture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But then a story of art imitating life was
turned around in 1934 when <i>An American
Tragedy </i>was brought to life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the evening of July 30, 1934, Robert Allen
Edwards – a clean-cut, church-going, 21-year-old, with striking good looks that
made him very popular with the opposite sex – took his girlfriend, a homely but
outgoing 27-year-old named Freda McKechnie for a drive. The young couple
stopped by to visit Freda’s seven-year-old niece, and then went on to Harveys
Lake, a popular resort located about 12 miles west of Wilkes-Barre,
Pennsylvania. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Freda and Bobby – as everyone called him – both
came from respectable families. They Lived around the corner from one another
in Edwardsville, Pennsylvania, and attended the same church. The young couple
spent a great deal of time together -- much more time, in fact, than their
parents suspected. Besides the usual small town activities like church socials,
picnics and movie dates, they passed many hours in various secluded romance
spots, including the town cemetery. Despite the difference in their ages and
the glaring disparity in their physical attractiveness, everyone assumed the
two sweethearts would eventually get married.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bobby, though, had other ideas. Three years
earlier, he had gone off to Mansfield State Teachers College (now Mansfield
University), where the popular, black-haired young man was elected president of
the freshman class. While there, he met a talented singer and pianist, a senior
named Margaret Crain. The bespectacled brunette came from a middle-class family
from East Aurora, New York. Though Margaret was, by all accounts, even less
attractive than Freda, Bobby was entranced with her. Margaret was flattered by
his attention. No young men had been interested in her before, and she soon
succumbed to her handsome lover’s charms. Before long, they had started a
passionate affair. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With American still in the grip of the
Depression, Bobby was forced to drop out of college in his junior year. He
moved back home to live with his parents, and took a job with the Kingston Coal
Co., where his father and Freda’s father both worked. By then, Margaret had graduated and was
working as a high school music teacher in Endicott, New York. Although
separated by more than two hundred miles, they kept up a steady correspondence,
sending fervent, heartsick letters back and forth. In his letters, Robert
called her “my dear wife” and made pledges of future matrimony. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eAYEX5ZeOj4/Vr4kPBNRpFI/AAAAAAAAEjo/xgBurT-IWw8/s1600/tragedy%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://4.bp.blogspot.com/-eAYEX5ZeOj4/Vr4kPBNRpFI/AAAAAAAAEjo/xgBurT-IWw8/s200/tragedy%2B1.jpg" width="178" /></a><a href="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YQ3Xa2pLSno/Vr4kPBHZYMI/AAAAAAAAEjs/htS1QrliD84/s1600/tragedy%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://2.bp.blogspot.com/-YQ3Xa2pLSno/Vr4kPBHZYMI/AAAAAAAAEjs/htS1QrliD84/s200/tragedy%2B2.jpg" width="196" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bobby Edwards
and Freda McKechnie</span></b></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Eventually, Margaret gave Robert $100 to make a
down payment on a used 1931 Chevrolet, which they nicknamed “The Bum.” The car
would be jointly owned, and Bobby would use it to travel to see her. Sometimes,
they would meet midway for trysts at the Plaza Hotel in Scranton. Over the next
year, Robert made regular weekend trips to Margaret’s family’s home, where he
impressed her parents as a fine young man who would be a worthwhile future
son-in-law.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But what Margaret and her parents didn’t know
was that during his time back home in Edwardsville, Bobby was still sleeping
with Freda McKechnie. This affair would likely have remained a secret if not
for the fact that, on July 23, 1934, Freda had gone to a doctor and learned
that she was four months pregnant. When she broke the news to Bobby the
following day, he agreed to do the right thing and marry her. They would elope
to West Virginia. The date was set for August 1, just a week away, after Bobby
received his next paycheck. Thrilled, Freda began assembling a trousseau. Many
would recall later that they had never seen her so happy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On Monday night, July 30, after a dinner at the
McKechnie home, Bobby and Freda went out for a drive. Even though the sun had
set and a hard rain was falling, Freda – giggling with excitement over the
upcoming wedding – proposed that they go for a swim at Harveys Lake, one of
their favorite trysting spots. They arrived there shortly after 9:00 p.m. and
parked at a spot called Sandy Beach. They changed into swimsuits and waded out
into the water.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">An hour later, Bobby left the beach alone.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Early the next morning, a 15-year-old girl named
Irene Cohen was canoeing on the lake with her younger brother and one of her
friends when she spotted a woman’s body, wearing an orange bathing suit,
floating face-down beneath the water. Terrified, she paddled over to Sandy
Beach and got two lifeguards, who plunged into the water and pulled the
lifeless body out onto the sand.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The police were summoned, along with a local
physician, Dr. Harry Brown, who quickly determined that the woman had not
drowned. She had died from a savage blow to the back of her head with a blunt
instrument. When he removed her bathing cap, clotted blood came out, and he
could see a laceration on the top of her head. The murder weapon was discovered
a short time later when investigators, who scoured the beach, found a
leather-covered blackjack in the sand. By then, the victim had been identified
as Freda McKechnie, whose parents had spent a sleepless night wondering why
their daughter had never returned home from her drive with Bobby Edwards.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Within hours, Edwards had been picked up by the
police on suspicion of murder. At first, he denied that he and Freda had gone
to the lake at all. He told the police that after driving around for a little
while, he had dropped Freda off in town. Then had gone to meet some friends
whose names he could not remember. When investigators revealed that the tire
tracks found at the crime scene matched the tires on his car, he sheepishly
admitted that he had been lying and offered to tell “what really happened.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">He admitted that he and Freda had, in fact,
driven out to Sandy Beach. Even though it was raining and there were flashes of
lightning in the sky, they decided to go swimming. After changing into their
bathing suits, they “went into the water and waded to the float.” (This was a
wooden platform floating on top of metal barrels that offered swimmers a place
to relax in the sun.) Edwards went on, “I got a notion to dive. I dove. When I
came back up, my hand struck her under the chin. She fell backward and hit her
head against the float.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Stunned but still conscious, she had swum out
farther into the water. A moment later, according to his wildly implausible
account, Edwards saw “her white bathing cap disappear. I went out for her but
couldn’t find her. I went back, got in my car and drove away.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the morning after his arrest, police officers
took him out to the crime scene to get his version of the events once more. He
revised his story again. This time, Edwards admitted that he had hit Freda with
the blackjack. But he insisted that she was already dead when he hit her.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In this version of events, he and Freda had
taken a rowboat out to the float. After swimming for a little while, Freda
complained of being cold. As she stepped back into the rowboat to return to
shore, she suddenly collapsed. Edwards tried to revive her but was unable to
find a heartbeat. Panicking, he swam back to shore and ran to his car. As he
climbed in, he thought of the blackjack. It belonged to his father, and he had
put it in his glove box -- for protection, he said. He told the investigators,
“It occurred to me that if there was some mark on Freda’s body, it might look
like her death was an accident and I would be left out of it. I knew Freda was
pregnant. I knew she was not allowed to swim. When I returned to the boat, she
was in the same position. She had not revived. I could do nothing. I put her
head on my left arm and struck her on the back of the head with the blackjack.
I didn’t even realize what I had done, and I carried the body out to the water
up to my chest and let it drop.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By this time, the investigators knew that
Edwards was in a relationship with another woman and had a compelling motive to
do away with Freda, who was secretly pregnant with his child. When they
confronted him with all of the circumstantial evidence against him, he finally
broke down. This time, he revealed the truth of the murder. He choked, “Freda
didn’t faint. She didn’t fall and hurt herself. I had been thinking of doing
this since she told me she was to become a mother – because I wanted to marry
Margaret Crain. We swam for a while. We talked about her having a baby. The
water was a little over four feet deep, and when she ducked down once, she came
back up with her back to me. I pulled out the blackjack quick and hit her on
the back of the head. I hit her with the blackjack and then I left her in the
water.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After tossing the murder weapon into the lake,
Edwards got dressed and drove home. He even stopped along the way at an
all-night drugstore to buy some chocolate bars for his mother. Before going to
bed, he hung his swimsuit on the backyard clothesline to dry. He slept soundly
that night and got up and went to work the next morning as if nothing had
happened at all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No one knows which reporter first dubbed the
case the “American Tragedy Murder.” Newspapermen from two Philadelphia papers,
the <i>Record</i> and the <i>Bulletin</i>, both claimed to have dreamed
it up, as did a writer for the United Press syndicate, and a reporter from the <i>New York Times</i>. It’s not hard to imagine
that all of them latched onto the idea independently, since the details of this
latest tragedy were strikingly similar to the case that spawned Theodore
Dreiser’s bestselling book and the recent film. Within days of Edwards’ arrest,
newspapers all over the country were suggesting that the novel – or more likely
the movie version of it – had provided the confessed killer with the blueprint
for his crime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As is the case with just about every work of
literature or mass entertainment that has been blamed for inciting a murder,
there turned out to be no truth to the accusation. By all accounts, Edwards had
never read the book or seen the film that was based on it. Still, the startling
resemblance between the murder of Freda McKechnie and Dreiser’s fictionalized
version of the Chester Gillette-Grace Brown case turned the story into a
national sensation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Dreiser himself saw the Edwards case as “an
exact duplicate of the story which I had written” and wondered whether “my book
had produced the crime.” When the New York Post offered to pay him to travel to
Pennsylvania and cover the trial, he eagerly accepted. On the opening day of
the trial, October 1, 1934, he was one of 50 reporters who jammed into the
Luzerne County Courthouse in Wilkes-Barre. The scene, he wrote, was “quite a
spectacle.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The hundreds of spectators who pushed and shoved
their way into the courtroom, hoping for an exciting show, were not disappointed.
The questionable high point came when the district attorney read a series of
Bobby’s steamy love letters to Freda McKechnie. The contents were allegedly so
salacious that, according to one observer, they made John Cleland’s
pornographic classic <i>Fanny Hill: or the
Memoirs of a Woman of Pleasure</i> “look like a toned-down version of <i>Little Women</i>.” <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By then, Edwards – whom the papers were
gleefully calling “the Playboy of the Anthracite Fields” – had recanted his
confession and gone back to his claim that Freda had died accidentally. His
testimony failed to persuade the jury, and they took only 12 hours to convict
him and sentence him to death. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Theodore Dreiser was unhappy with the verdict.
He believed that Edwards, like his predecessor Chester Gillette, was a victim
of tremendous American social pressures. Dating back to his days as a newspaper
reporter in Chicago, Dreiser had “observed a certain type of crime in the
United States.” It was one that “seemed to spring from the fact that almost
every young person was possessed of an ingrowing ambition to be somebody
financially and socially.” This distinctly American brand of crime, according
to Dreiser, involved “the young ambitious lover of some poorer girl who had
been attractive enough to satisfy him until a more attractive girl with more
money or position appeared and he quickly discovered that he could no longer
care for his first love. What produced this particular type of crime was the
fact that it was not always possible to drop this first girl. What usually
stood in the way was pregnancy.”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To support this claim, he pointed to a
half-dozen such murders, including the Gillette-Brown case of 1906 that had
served as the basis for <i>An American
Tragedy</i>. It wasn’t a perfect fit, as Margaret Crain’s family was not rich;
she was a high school music teacher and her brother was a Baptist minister, but
still, the two cases had much in common. Dreiser blamed the crimes committed by
these men on American society and its “craze for social and money success.” He
believed that Edwards was just another in a long line of such killers. Dreiser
was one of hundreds of people who wrote to Governor George H. Earle in a futile
attempt to win a pardon for the condemned young man. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Just after midnight on May 6, 1935, after
spending hours reading his family Bible, Edwards walked calmly to the electric
chair at Rockview Penitentiary in Bellefonte, Pennsylvania. According to one
reporter, he was murmuring a prayer as the black hood was placed over his head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This American tragedy had finally come to an
end. </span><span style="font-family: Tahoma, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></div>
Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-43723739566209844132016-01-24T12:55:00.000-06:002016-01-24T12:55:30.524-06:00SCREAMING LIZZIE, CHICAGO AVENUE MARY & OTHER ROADSIDE GHOSTS<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>A Few of Chicago's Other Highway Phantoms</b></span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The tale of the vanishing hitchhiker is a classic American ghost story. There is not a single part of the country that does not boast at least one tale about a pale young girl who accepts a ride with a stranger, only to vanish from the car before they reach their destination. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Stories like this have been a part of American lore for many years and tales of spectral passengers (usually young women) are often attached to bridges, dangerous hills and intersections and graveyards. Folklorist Jan Harold Brunvand calls the vanishing hitchhiker "the classic automobile legend" but stories of these spirits date back as far as the middle 1800s, when men told stories of ghostly women who appeared on the backs of their horses. These spectral riders always disappeared when they reached their destination and would often prove to be the deceased daughters of local farmers. Not much has changed in the stories that are still told today, outside of the preferred method of transportation.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Today, such tales are usually referred to as "urban legends." They are stories that have been told and re-told over the years and in most every case have been experienced by the proverbial "friend of a friend" and have no real basis in fact -- or do they?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Are all of these stories, as some would like us to believe, nothing more than folklore? Are they simply tales that have been made up and have been spread across the country over a long period of time? Perhaps this is the case…or perhaps not. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One has to wonder how such stories got started in the first place. Could any of them have a basis in truth? What if a strange incident --- perhaps an encounter with a vanishing hitchhiker --- actually happened somewhere and then was told, and re-told, to the point that it lost many of the elements of truth? As the story spread, it came to be embraced by people all over the country until it became a part of their local lore. It has long been believed that people willingly provide an explanation for something that they cannot understand. This is usually done by creating mythology that made sense at the time. Who knows if there may be a very small kernel of truth hidden inside some of the folk tales that sends shivers down your spine?</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Tales of phantom hitchhikers can be found all over the world but in no area are they as prevalent as they are in and around the city of Chicago, which is home, of course, to America’s most famous ghost, Resurrection Mary. (For the complete story of Mary – and her true identity – see my book on the subject, aptly titled Resurrection Mary). There are a number of mysterious phantoms to be found in the Chicago area, from the typical vanishing hitchers of legend and lore to what some have dubbed "prophesying passengers" -- strange hitchhikers who are picked up and then pass along odd messages, usually involving the end of the world or something almost as dire.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A good example of such a passenger was reported during Chicago's Century of Progress Exposition in 1933, when a group of people in an automobile told of a strange encounter. They were traveling along Lake Shore Drive when a woman with a suitcase, standing by the roadside, hailed them. They invited her to ride along with them and she climbed in. They later said that they never really got a good look at her because it was dark outside.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As they drove along, they got into a conversation about the exposition and the mysterious woman solemnly told them, "The fair is going to slide off into Lake Michigan in September." She then gave them her address in Chicago and invited them to call on her anytime. When they turned around to speak to her again, they discovered that she had disappeared!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unnerved, they decided to go to the address the woman gave them and when they did, a man answered the door. They explained to him why they had come to the house and he merely nodded his head. "Yes, that was my wife. She died four years ago,” he said.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The mysterious passenger may have been a ghost but she was obviously not a well-informed one; despite her warning, the Exposition stubbornly refused to slide into the lake.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
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<a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WQEwy7MblEs/VqUdXPt1FeI/AAAAAAAAEjE/q9TE8e1zflc/s1600/streetcar.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="283" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-WQEwy7MblEs/VqUdXPt1FeI/AAAAAAAAEjE/q9TE8e1zflc/s400/streetcar.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>“Screaming Lizzie”</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A tragic murder occurred at streetcar stop at the intersection of Carmen and Lincoln avenues on November 18, 1905, when a young woman named Lizzie Kaussehull was killed by a crazed stalker named Edward Robhaut, who had been pursuing her for three months. During that time, Robhaut had tried unsuccessfully to win Lizzie’s heart. He constantly bothered her, wrote her letters, sent her flowers, and simply refused to accept her rejection. Neighbors later recalled that he frequently waited around the corner of Lincoln and Carmen, waiting for the streetcar that would bring Lizzie home from her job at Moeller & Stange’s grocery store, located farther south on Lincoln. Lizzie did her best to ignore him but he followed her home every night. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Lizzie became so fearful for her life that her family reported Robhaut’s behavior to the police, including the fact that he told Lizzie that he would kill her if she would not marry him. Robhaut was arrested and a restraining order (called a "peace bond" in those days) was filed against him on November 11, but it had no effect on his actions. He continued to follow her home from the streetcar stop each afternoon, begging her to marry him and threatening to kill her if she did not. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On November 18, Lizzie finished her shift at Moeller & Stange’s and, as always, rode the streetcar north on Lincoln. When she reached her stop, she stepped off with several girlfriends, all of them laughing and talking. Then, she saw Robhaut leaning against the wall of a nearby storefront. Lizzie’s friends froze and Lizzie shakily put up a hand and stammered in his direction that the peace bond was still in place against him. Robhaut suddenly ran toward her and Lizzie began to scream.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Robhaut sprang upon her and plunged a knife into Lizzie’s chest. She staggered away from him, but Robhaut attacked again, stabbing her three more times. Finally, her dress soaked with blood, she fell to the sidewalk. Robhaut looked down at the woman that he claimed to love so ardently that he had to kill her because he couldn’t have her, drew a revolver, placed the barrel into his mouth, and pulled the trigger. The back of Robhaut’s skull blew out in a red spray of gore and his body collapsed on top of Lizzie’s. They were finally together – in death.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But this was not the end of the story. According to legend, Lizzie’s ghost has haunted the intersection at Lincoln and Carmen for more than a century now. The stories claim that, on nights of the full moon, Lizzie returns to the former streetcar stop and can be heard screaming – just as she did when she saw Edward Robhaut lurching toward her on the day that he ended her life.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><br /></b></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>The Flapper Ghost</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another ghostly hitchhiker haunts the roadways between the site of the old Melody Mill Ballroom and Waldheim Cemetery, which is located at 1800 South Harlem Ave in Chicago. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The cemetery, once known as Jewish Waldheim, is one of the more peaceful and attractive graveyards in the area and is easily recognizable by the columns that are mounted at the front gates. They were once part of the old Cook County Building, which was demolished in 1908. This cemetery would most likely go quietly through its existence if not for the tales of the "Flapper Ghost," as the resident spirit has been dubbed.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The story of this beautiful spirit tells of her earthly existence as a young Jewish girl who attended dances at the Melody Mill Ballroom, formerly on South Des Plaines Avenue in west suburban North Riverside. During its heyday, the ballroom was one of the city's favorite venues for dancing and played host to dozens of popular big bands from the 1920s to the middle 1980s. The brick building was topped with a miniature windmill, the ballroom's trademark. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This young woman was a very attractive brunette with bobbed hair and a penchant for dressing in the style of the Prohibition era. In later years, witnesses would claim that her ghost dressed like a "flapper" and this is how she earned her nickname. Legend has it that this lovely girl was a regular at the Melody Mill until she died of peritonitis, the result of a burst appendix. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The girl was buried at Jewish Waldheim and she likely would have been forgotten, to rest in peace, if strange things had not started to happen a few months later. The events began as staff members at the Melody Mill began to see a young woman who looked just like the deceased girl appearing at dances at the ballroom. A number of men actually claimed to meet the girl here and to have offered her a ride home. During the journey, the young woman always vanished. This fetching phantom was also known to hitch rides on Des Plaines Avenue, outside the ballroom, and was also sometimes seen near the gates to the cemetery. Some travelers who passed the graveyard also claimed to see her entering a mausoleum that was located off Harlem Avenue. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Although recent sightings have been few, the ghost was most active in 1933, during the Century of Progress Exhibition. She became active again forty years later, during the early 1970s, and stayed active for nearly a decade. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the early 1930s, she was often reported at the ballroom, where she would dance with young men and ask for a ride home at the end of the evening. Every report was basically the same; a young man would agree to drive the girl home and she would give him directions to go east on Cermak Road, then north on Harlem Avenue. When they reached the cemetery, the girl always asked the driver to stop the car. The girl would explain to her escort that she lived in the caretaker's house (since demolished) and then get out of the car. One man stated that he watched the girl go towards the house but then duck around the side of it. Curious, he climbed out of the car to see where she was going and saw her run out into the cemetery and vanish among the tombstones. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another young man, who was also told that the girl lived in the caretaker's house, decided to come back during the day and to ask about her at the house. He had become infatuated with her and hoped to take her dancing again on another evening. His questions to the occupants of the house were met with blank stares and bafflement. No such girl lived, or had ever lived, at the house.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">More sightings took place in the early 1970s and one report even occurred during the daylight hours. A family was visiting the cemetery one day and was startled to see a young woman dressed like a flapper walking toward a crypt, where she suddenly disappeared. The family hurried over to the spot, only to find that the girl was not there and there was nowhere to which she could have vanished so quickly. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Since that time, sightings of the flapper have been few; this may be because the old Melody Mill is no more. The days of jazz and big bands were gone by the 1980s and attendance on weekend evenings continued to slip until the place was closed in 1985. It was later demolished and a new building was put up in its place two years later. Has the Flapper Ghost simply moved on to the other side since her favorite dance spot has disappeared? Perhaps -- and perhaps she is still kicking up her heels on a dance floor in another time and place, where it's 1933 every day!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>Chicago Avenue Mary</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The town of Naperville, an affluent suburb located southwest of Chicago, is home to another of the region’s roadside ghosts. In this case, the spirit in question doesn’t hitch rides with passing motorists, she actually makes her spectral rounds on foot, which has created a romantic legend over the years that just may have a basis in truth. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The story of Chicago Avenue Mary, as she has come to be called, began more than a century and a half ago when a pale, devastated young women was seen crossing Chicago Avenue and vanishing into the gloom of the evening. Mary appeared from a home located on the corner of Chicago Avenue and Ellsworth Street in Naperville that once belonged to the E.E. Miller family. Some have surmised that Mary was their daughter but others believe that her true story is actually much older than that, largely based on the clothing that the phantom reportedly wears. It seems that every year, on what legend held was the anniversary of her death, Mary walked through the front door of the house, down to the sidewalk, turned right and walked to the corner. She crossed Chicago Avenue and walked down the hill, where she eventually disappeared. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In every report, Mary was described in exactly the same way. Every detail of her hair and clothing was alike, even though the sightings occurred throughout several generations to people who were strangers to one another. The stories claimed that she was wearing the same clothing she wore on the day of her death – a long blue skirt of a rough-spun material and a white blouse with puffy sleeves, similar to women’s clothing styles in the middle 1800s. Mary was always described as a pretty young girl, possibly in her early to mid-twenties, with curly, brown hair pulled up in an old-fashioned style. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The other thing that witnesses always seem to remember about the young woman is the look of terrible pain, anguish and desperation on her face. Her eyes are filled with unbearable grief. She appears to be haunted, they say, for lack of a better term.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Mary has been seen on Chicago Avenue for many years but perhaps the most publicized sighting occurred in the late 1970s. Two college students were driving east on Chicago Avenue one night when a woman suddenly walked out in the street in front of their car. The driver slammed on his brakes but was unable to stop in time and he collided with the woman – or would have, if she had actually been there. The woman had mysteriously vanished. The couple searched the area, but there was no woman – injured or otherwise – to be found. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The legend of Chicago Avenue Mary tells of events that allegedly occurred in the middle 1800s, when a young Naperville couple fell in love. Mary and her boyfriend often met at a small, tree-shaded pool ringed with quarry limestone that was not far from where Mary lived. One day, after the two had become engaged, Mary’s fiancée accidentally fell into the pool and struck his head on a rock. The blow knocked him unconscious and before Mary could summon help, he drowned in the cool water. Mary was unable to forgive herself for not being able to save her lover’s life and she slipped into a terrible depression. She refused to leave the house except to walk to the pool where her fiancée had died --- leaving her front door, turning right down the sidewalk, crossing Chicago Avenue and walking down the hill to sit beside the water. She refused to eat or drink. She simply sat there, staring into the water, until her father or mother could come and lead her back home by the hand every evening.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Soon, Mary could stand no more and one night, she locked herself into her bedroom and committed suicide. Some say that she swallowed poison and others claim she hanged herself, but the end result was the same – she believed that she could be with her lover for eternity. Her grieving parents buried her next to him in the Naperville Cemetery.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But Mary’s spirit was unable to find peace. On the first anniversary of her death, locals were stunned to see her leaving her house, walking to the corner of Chicago Avenue and Ellsworth Street and wandering down the hill toward the pool where she had mourned for her fiancée. She appeared year after year. Many brave souls attempted to communicate with her but she vanished when she was approached. After an iron fence was erected around the pool, Mary passed right through it since it did not exist in her place and time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The romantic legend of Chicago Avenue Mary is often dismissed as a folk story – a tale of a woman with no last name, a fiancée whose name was never known and a series of events that likely never happened. Or did they? E.E. Miller, who once owned the house at the corner of Chicago Avenue and Ellsworth Street had a daughter named Mary, but she did not commit suicide, nor was she ever engaged to man who accidentally died. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">So, if Mary is not this young woman, then perhaps she was another? Historical records show that the first house that was built on the corner belonged to Captain Morris Sleight and his wife, Hannah. The Miller House was later constructed by adding onto the home that already existed on the property. The Sleights had a daughter named Rosalie, who died on February 9, 1853, at the age of 23. Her cause of death was not listed, leading some to believe that she might have taken her own life. Her age at the time of her death, and the clothing of the period, leads us to believe that perhaps this is the “Mary” that haunted this particular roadside for so many years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Whoever Mary might have been in life, she seemed doomed to repeat her annual journey over and over again through the 1960s. After that, Chicago Avenue Mary sightings became sporadic and finally tapered off in the middle 1980s. Many believe that Mary still walks today, but if she does it’s unlikely that she recognizes the place that she once loved – then hated – for so long. The small spring has since been turned into a large pond by North Central College, with a fountain, landscaping and memorial plaques to designate donations from the families of college alumni. The old milk house that once stood at the site, along with the metal bench where Mary and her lover reportedly sat, is gone. The home from which the phantom girl emerged was destroyed in 2007 and was replaced by the Wentz Fine Arts Center, further erasing another remnant of Mary’s past. </span><br />
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-27291430795412080692016-01-24T12:47:00.000-06:002016-01-24T12:47:40.625-06:00THE SAUSAGE VAT MURDER<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>The Tragic Tale of Louisa Luetgert</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> The story of Adolph Luetgert has its beginnings in the heart of Chicago's Northwest Side, a place once filled with factories, middle-class homes, and with a large immigrant population. The murder of Luetgert's wife, Louisa, has an unusual place in the history of Chicago crime in that it was one of the only murders to ever drastically affect the sale of food for the better part of the summer of 1897.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Adolph Luetgert was born in Germany and came to America after the Civil War. He lived for a time in Quincy, Ill., and then came to Chicago in 1872, where he pursued several trades, including farming and leather tanning. Eventually, he started a wholesale liquor business near Dominick Street. He later turned to sausage making, where he found his greatest success. After finding out that his German-style sausages were quite popular in Chicago, he built a sausage plant in 1894 at the southwest corner of Hermitage and Diversey. It would be here where the massive German would achieve his greatest success - and his shocking infamy.</span><br />
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<b>Herman Lutegert</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Although the hard-working Luetgert soon began to put together a considerable fortune, he was an unhappy and restless man. Luetgert had married his first wife, Caroline Rabaker, in 1872. She gave birth to two boys, only one of whom survived childhood. Caroline died five years later, in November 1877. Luetgert sold his liquor business in 1879 and moved to the corner of North and Clybourn avenues, where he started his first sausage-packing plant in the same building where he lived. Two months after Caroline's death, Luetgert married an attractive younger woman. This did little to ease his restlessness, however, and he was rumored to be engaged in several extramarital affairs during the time when he built a three-story frame house next door to the sausage factory. He resided there with his son and new wife.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His wife, Louisa Bicknese Luetgert, was a beautiful young woman 10 years younger than her husband. She was a former servant from the Fox River Valley who met her new husband by chance. He was immediately taken with her, entranced by her diminutive stature and tiny frame. She was less than five feet tall and looked almost child-like next to her burly husband. As a wedding gift, he gave her a unique, heavy gold ring with her initials inscribed inside. He had no idea at the time that this ring would later be his undoing. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After less than three years of business, Luetgert's finances began to fail. Even though his factory turned out large quantities of sausages, Luetgert found that he could not meet his supplier's costs. Instead of trying to reorganize his finances, though, he and his business advisor, William Charles, made plans to expand. They attempted to secure more capital to enlarge the factory but, by April 1897, it had all fallen apart. Luetgert, deep in depression, sought solace with his various mistresses and his excesses, and business losses began taking a terrible toll on his marriage. Neighbors frequently heard him and Louisa arguing and their disagreements became so heated that Luetgert eventually moved his bedroom from the house to a small chamber inside the factory. Soon after, Louisa found out that her husband was having an affair with the family's maid, Mary Simerling, who also happened to be Louisa's niece. She was enraged at this news and this new scandal got the attention of the people in the neighborhood, who were already gossiping about the couple's marital woes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Luetgert soon gave the neighbors even more to gossip about. One night, during another shouting match with Louisa, he responded to her indignation over his affair with Mary by taking his wife by the throat and choking her. Before she collapsed, Luetgert saw neighbors peering in at him from the parlor window of their home, and he released her. A few days later, Luetgert was seen chasing his wife down the street. He was shouting at her and waving a revolver. After a couple of blocks, Luetgert broke off the chase and walked silently back to the factory. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then, on May 1, 1897, Louisa disappeared. When questioned about it, Luetgert stated that Louisa had gone out the previous evening to visit her sister. After several days, though, she did not come back. Soon after, Diedrich Bicknese, Louisa's brother, came to Chicago and called on his sister. He was informed that she was not at home. He came back later and, finding Luetgert at home, he demanded to know where Louisa was. Luetgert calmly told him that Louisa had disappeared on May 1 and had never returned. When Diedrich demanded to know why Luetgert had not informed the police about Louisa's disappearance, the sausage-maker simply told him that he was trying to "avoid a scandal" but that he had paid two detectives $5 to try and find her.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Diedrich immediately began searching for his sister. He went to Kankakee, thinking that perhaps she might be visiting friends there, but found no one who had seen her. He returned to Chicago and when he found that Louisa still had not come home, now having abandoned her children for days. Worried and suspicious, Diedrich went to the police and spoke with Captain Herman Schuettler. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The detective and his men joined in the search for Louisa. They questioned neighbors and relatives and heard many recitations about the couple's violent arguments. Captain Schuettler was familiar with Luetger; he had dealings with him in the past. He summoned the sausage-maker to the precinct house on two occasions and each time, pressed him about his wife. Schuettler recalled a time when the Luetgerts had lost a family dog, an event that prompted several calls from Luetgert, but when his wife had gone missing, he noted that Luetgert had never contacted him. Luetgert again used the excuse that as a "prominent businessman," he could not afford the disgrace and scandal. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The police began searching the alleyways and dragging the rivers. They also went to the sausage factory and began questioning the employees. One of them, Wilhelm Fulpeck, recalled seeing Louisa around the factory at about 10:30 p.m. on May 1. A young German girl named Emma Schiemicke, passed by the factory with her sister at about the same time on that evening and remembered seeing Luetgert leading his wife up the alleyway behind the factory. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Frank Bialk, a night watchman at the plant, confirmed both stories. He had also seen Luetgert and Louisa at the sausage factory that night. He only got a glimpse of Louisa, but saw his employer several times. Shortly after the couple entered the factory, Luetgert had come back outside, gave Bialk a dollar and asked him to get him a bottle of celery compound from a nearby drugstore. When the watchman returned with the medicine, he was surprised to find the door leading into the main factory was locked. Luetgert appeared and took the medicine. He made no comment about the locked door and sent Bialk back to the engine room.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A little while later, Luetgert again approached the watchman and sent him back to the drugstore to buy a bottle of medicinal spring water. While the watchman had been away running errands, Luetgert had apparently been working alone in the factory basement. He had turned on the steam under the middle vat a little before 9:00 p.m. and it was still running when Bialk returned. The watchman reported that Luetgert had remained in the basement until about 2: 00 a.m.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Bialk found him fully dressed in his office the next day. He asked whether or not the fires under the vat should be put out and Luetgert told him to leave them burning, which was odd since the factory had been closed several weeks during Luetgert's financial re-organization. Bialk did as he was told, though, and went down to the basement. There, he saw a hose sending water into the middle vat and on the floor in front of it was a sticky, glue-like substance. Bialk noticed that it seemed to contain bits of bone, but he thought nothing of it. Luetgert used all sorts of waste meats to make his sausage and he assumed that this was all it was.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On May 3, another employee, Frank Odorowsky, known as "Smokehouse Frank," also noticed the slimy substance on the factory floor. He feared that someone had boiled something in the factory without Luetgert's knowledge, so he went to his employer to report it. Luetgert told him not to mention the brown slime. As long as he kept silent, Luetgert said, he would have a good job for the rest of his life. Frank went to work scraping the slime off the floor and poured it into a nearby drain that led to the sewer. The larger chunks of waste were placed in a barrel and Luetgert told him to take the barrel out to the railroad tracks and scatter the contents there. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Following these interviews, Schuettler made another disturbing and suspicious discovery. A short time before Louisa's disappearance, even though the factory had been closed during the re-organization, Luetgert had ordered 325 pounds of crude potash and 50 pounds of arsenic from Lor Owen & Company, a wholesale drug firm. It was delivered to the factory the next day. Another interview with Frank Odorowsky revealed what had happened to the chemicals. On April 24, Luetgert had asked Smokehouse Frank to move the barrel of potash to the factory basement, where there were three huge vats that were used to boil down sausage material. The corrosive chemicals were all dumped into the middle vat and Luetgert turned on the steam beneath it, dissolving the material into liquid.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Combining this information with the eyewitness accounts, Captain Schuettler began to theorize about the crime. Circumstantial evidence seemed to show that Luetgert killed his wife and boiled her in the sausage vats to dispose of the body. The more that the policeman considered this scenario, the more convinced that he became that this is what had happened. Hoping to prove his theory, he and his men started another search of the sausage factory and he soon made a discovery that became one of the most gruesome in the annals of Chicago crime. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On May 15, a search was conducted of the 12-foot-long, five-foot-deep middle vat that was two-thirds filled with a brownish, brackish liquid. The officers drained the greasy paste from the vat, using gunnysacks as filters, and began poking through the residue with sticks. It wasn't long before Officer Walter Dean found several pieces of bone and two gold rings. One of them was a badly tarnished friendship ring and the other was a heavy gold band that had been engraved with the initials "L.L.".</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Louisa Luetgert had worn both of the rings.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After they were analyzed, the bones were found to be definitely human - a third rib; part of a humerus, or great bone in the arm; a bone from the palm of a human hand; a bone from the fourth toe of a right foot; fragments of bone from a human ear and a larger bone from a foot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Adolph Luetgert, proclaiming his innocence, was arrested for the murder of his wife. Louisa's body was never found and there were no witnesses to the crime, but police officers and prosecutors believed the evidence was overwhelming. Luetgert was indicted for the crime a month later and details of the murder shocked the city's residents, especially those on the Northwest Side. Even though Luetgert was charged with boiling his wife's body, local rumor had it that she had been ground into sausage instead! Needless to say, sausage sales declined substantially in 1897.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Luetgert's first trial ended with a hung jury on October 21 after the jurors failed to agree on a suitable punishment. Some argued for the death penalty, while others voted for life in prison. Only one of the jurors thought that Luetgert might be innocent. A second trial was held and, on February 9, 1898, Luetgert was convicted and sentenced to a life term at Joliet Prison. He was taken away, still maintaining his innocence and claiming that he would receive another trial. He was placed in charge of meats in the prison's cold-storage warehouse and officials described him as a model inmate. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By 1899, though, Luetgert began to speak less and less and often quarreled with the other convicts. He soon became a shadow of his former, blustering persona, fighting for no reason and often babbling incoherently in his cell at night. His mind had been broken, either from guilt over his heinous crime, or from the brutal conditions of his imprisonment. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Luetgert died in 1900, likely from heart trouble. The coroner who conducted the autopsy also reported that his liver was greatly enlarged and in such a condition of degeneration that "mental strain would have caused his death at any time."</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The sausage factory stood empty for years, looming over the neighborhood as a grim reminder of the horrors that had visited there. The windows of the place became a target for rocks thrown from the nearby railroad embankment and it often invited forays by the curious and the homeless.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the months that followed his death, Luetgert's business affairs were entangled in litigation. The courts finally sorted everything out in August 1900 and a public auction was held for the factory and its grounds. Portions of the property were divided between several buyers but the Library Bureau Company, which was founded by Dewey Decimal System creator Melvil Dewey, leased the factory itself. The company used it as a workshop and storehouse for its line of library furniture and office supplies. During the renovations, the infamous vats in the basement were discarded.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In June 1904, a devastating fire swept through the old sausage factory. It took more than three hours to put out the blaze and when it was over, the building was still standing, but everything inside had been destroyed. However, contrary to what many stories have reported, the building was still there. In fact, it's still there today!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Despite the damage done to the building's interior, the Library Bureau re-opened its facilities in the former sausage factory. It would go on to change owners many times in the decades that followed. In 1907, a contracting mason purchased the old Luetgert house and moved it from behind the factory to another lot in the neighborhood, hoping to dispel the grim memories attached to it. The part of Hermitage Avenue that intersected with Diversey was closed. By the 1990s, the factory stood empty and crumbling, facing a collection of empty lots that were only broken by the occasional ramshackle frame house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1999, though, around the 100th anniversary of the death of Adolph Luetgert, the former sausage factory was converted into loft condominiums and a brand new neighborhood sprang up to replace the aging homes that remained from the days of the Luetgerts. Fashionable brick homes and apartments appeared around the old factory, and rundown taverns were replaced with coffee shops. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The old neighborhood was gone, but the stories of this infamous crime still lingered, providing a unique place in history as the only Chicago murder that ever kept people from eating sausages!</span><br />
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<b>The former sausage factory where Louisa allegedly died was turned into condominiums in 1999. </b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> <b>And there there are the ghosts...</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">According to legend, Louisa Luetgert's ghost returned not only to haunt the old neighborhood where she died, but also to exact her revenge on the man who killed her. Stories claim that toward the end of Adolph Luetgert's life, he told stories about Louisa visiting his cell at night. His dead wife had returned to haunt him, intent on having revenge for her murder. Was she really haunting him or was the "ghost" really just the figment of a rapidly deteriorating mind? Based on the fact that residents of the neighborhood also began reporting seeing Louisa's ghost, one has to wonder if Luetgert was seeing her ghost because he was mentally ill ---- or if the ghost had driven him insane. Luetgert died under what the coroner called "great mental strain," so perhaps Louisa did manage to get her revenge after all.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">And Louisa, whether she was murdered by her husband or not, reportedly did not rest in peace. Not long after her husband was sent to prison, her ghost began to be seen inside the Luetgert house. Neighbors claimed to see a woman in a white dress leaning against the fireplace mantel. Eventually, the house was rented out but none of the tenants stayed there long. The place became an object of fear, the yard overgrown with ragweed, and largely deserted.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Oddly, the fire that broke out in the former sausage factory in 1904 started in the basement -- at exactly the spot where Luetgert's middle vat was once located. Fire officials stated, "The source of the fire is a mystery and none has been able to offer any better explanation than the superstitious folk who have an idea that some supernatural intervention against any commercial enterprise operating at the scene of the murder has been invoked." No cause was ever determined for the fire, leading many to believe that perhaps Louisa's specter had returned once more.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Legend has it on the Northwest Side today that Louisa Luetgert still walks. If she does, she probably no longer recognizes the neighborhood where she once lived. They say though, that if you happened to be in this area on May 1, the anniversary of Louisa's death, there is a chance that you might see her lonely specter still roaming the area where she lived and died.</span><br />
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-78504256300842793192016-01-24T12:31:00.000-06:002016-01-24T12:31:40.473-06:00THE EASTLAND DISASTER<b>The Haunting Mystery of the One of Chicago's Greatest Disasters</b><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The afternoon of July 24, 1915, was a special day for thousands of Chicagoans. It was the afternoon that had been reserved for the annual summer picnic for employees of the Western Electric Company. Officials at the company had encouraged the workers to bring along as many friends and relatives as possible to the event, which was held across the lake at Michigan City, Indiana. Even after this open invitation, managers were surprised to find that more than 7,000 people showed up to be ferried across Lake Michigan on the three excursion boats that had been chartered for the day. The steamers were docked on the Chicago River, between Clark and LaSalle streets, and included Theodore Roosevelt, Petoskey and Eastland. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Eastland was a rusting Lake Michigan steamer that was owned by the St. Joseph-Chicago Steamship Company. It was supposed to hold a capacity crowd of 2,500 people, but it is believed that on the morning of July 24, more than 3,200 climbed on board. In addition to being overcrowded, the vessel had a reputation for being unstable. Years before, it was realized that design flaws in the ship made it top-heavy. In July 1903, a case of overcrowding had caused Eastland to tip and water to flow up one of its gangplanks. The situation was quickly rectified, but it was only the first of many such incidents. To make matters worse, the new federal Seaman's Act had been passed in 1915 because of the RMS Titanic disaster. This required the retrofitting of a complete set of lifeboats on Eastland, as well as on other passenger vessels. Eastland was so top-heavy that it already had special restrictions about how many passengers it could carry. The additional weight of the mandated lifeboats made the ship more unstable than it already was. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The huge crowd, the lifeboats, and the negligence of the crew created a recipe for disaster.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the unseasonably cool morning of July 24, Eastland was moored on the south side of the Chicago River in downtown Chicago. After she was loaded with passengers, the aging vessel would travel out into Lake Michigan, heading for the Indiana shoreline. Excited, happy, and nervous passengers lined the riverside docks, eager to get on board. The morning was damp, but better weather was promised for the picnic in the afternoon.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the passengers were loaded on board, the dock lines were loosed and the ship prepared to depart. The massive crowd, dressed in their best summer clothes, jammed onto the decks, calling out and waving handkerchiefs to those who were still on shore. Many of the passengers went below decks, hoping to warm up on this cool, cloudy morning. As the steamer eased away from the dock, it started to tilt to the port side. Unknown to the passengers, the crew had emptied the ballast compartments of the ship, which were designed to provide stability, so that more passengers could be loaded on board. They didn't count on a sudden shift in weight that would cause the vessel to lean even farther toward the port side. That sudden shift was caused by a passing fireboat, which fired off its water cannons to the delight of the crowd. The passengers hurried over to the port side for a closer look and moments later, Eastland simply rolled over. It came to rest on the river bottom, which was only 18 feet below the surface. </span><br />
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<b>The Eastland after she rolled onto her side in the Chicago River</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The passengers who had been on the deck were thrown in the river, thrashing about in a moving mass of bodies. Crews on the other steamers, and on passing vessels, threw life preservers into the water, while those on shore began tossing lines, boxes, and anything that would float to the panicked and drowning passengers. The overturned ship created a current that pulled many of the floundering swimmers to their doom, while many of the women's long dresses were snagged on the ship, tugging them down to the bottom. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The unluckiest passengers were those who had been inside the ship when it turned over. These ill-fated victims were thrown to one side of the vessel when it capsized and many were crushed by the heavy furniture below decks, which included tables, bookcases, and even a piano. As the river water rushed inside, those who were not immediately killed were drowned a few moments later. A few of them managed to escape to the upturned side of the ship, but most of them didn't. Their bodies were later found trapped in a tangled heap on the lowest side of Eastland. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Firefighters, rescue workers, and volunteers soon began to arrive and started cutting holes in the ship's hull that was above the water line. A few who had scrambled to safety inside the ship emerged from the holes, but for most of them, it was simply too late. Those on shore eagerly watched for more survivors, but no one emerged from the wet darkness. The men who had come to rescue the trapped and the injured had to resign themselves to pulling waterlogged corpses from the river instead. The bodies were wrapped in sheets and placed on the nearby Roosevelt, or lined up along the docks. The large stores downtown, like Marshall Field's, sent wagons to carry the dead to the hospitals, funeral homes, and the makeshift morgues. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Corpses were fished out of the river using large grappling hooks, but those who had been trapped beneath the ship had to be pulled out by police divers and volunteers. According to newspaper accounts, one of these divers, who had been bringing up bodies from the bottom of the river for hours, went insane. He had to be subdued by friends and police officers. City workers dragged the river where Eastland had capsized, using large nets to prevent the bodies from being pulled out into the lake. By the time it was all over, 841 passengers and four crewmembers perished in the disaster. Many of them were women and children and 22 families – husbands, wives, children, even grandparents, cousins, aunts, and uncles -- were completely wiped out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The hundreds of bodies that were recovered on the morning of the disaster were taken to the nearby Reid-Murdoch Building and to local funeral homes and mortuaries. The only public building that was large enough to be used as a morgue was the Second Regiment National Guard Armory, which was located on Carpenter Street, between Randolph Street and Washington Boulevard. The dead were laid out on the floor of the armory in rows of 85 and assigned identifying numbers. Any personal possessions that were found with the corpses were placed in envelopes bearing the same number as the body. </span><br />
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<b>The rows of the Eastland dead at the National Guard Armory</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Chicagoans with loved ones who had perished in the disaster filed through the rows of bodies, searching for familiar faces, but in the mentioned 22 cases, there was no one left to identify them. The names of these unidentified victims were learned through the efforts of neighbors, who came searching for their friends. The weeping, crying, and moaning of the bereaved echoed off the walls of the armory for days. The American Red Cross treated 30 women for hysteria and exhaustion in the days following the disaster. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The final body was identified on Friday, July 30. A 7-year-old boy named Willie Novotny of Cicero, #396, was the last. His parents and older sister had also died on Eastland and his identification came from extended family members, who arrived nearly a week after the disaster took place. After Willie's name was learned, a chapter was closed on one of Chicago's most horrific events.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Officially, the mystery of what happened to Eastland that day was never solved. No clear accounting was ever made to explain the capsizing of the vessel. Several hundred lawsuits were filed, but almost all of them were dismissed by the Circuit Court of Appeals, which held the owners of the steamer blameless in the disaster. After the ship was raised from the river, it was sold at auction. The title was later transferred to the government and the vessel was pressed into duty as the gunboat U.S.S. Wilmette. The ship never saw action but was used as a training ship during World War II. After the war, it was decommissioned and put up for sale in 1945. Finding no takers, it was scrapped in 1947. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Eastland was gone, but her story has continued to linger for years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the morning of the Eastland disaster, many of the bodies of the victims were taken to the Second Regiment National Guard Armory. As the years passed, there was no longer a need for a National Guard armory to be located so close to downtown Chicago. It was closed down by the military and the building was sold off. It went through several incarnations over the decades, including uses as a stable and a bowling alley, before being purchased by Harpo Studios, the production company owned by Oprah Winfrey.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, though, the success of the Winfrey’s talk show, which was filmed in the former armory, did nothing to put to rest the spirits that lingered from the Eastland disaster. A number of staff members, security guards, and maintenance workers claimed that the ghosts of the disaster victims who perished in 1915 restlessly wandered the building. Many employees had encounters with things that could not easily be explained away, including the sighting of a woman in a long, gray dress who walked the corridors and then mysteriously vanished into the wall. There were many occasions when this woman was spotted, but each time she was approached, she always disappeared. Some surmised that she was the spirit of a mourner who came looking for her family and left a bit of herself behind at the spot where she felt her greatest pain. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The woman in gray may not have been alone in her spectral travels throughout the old armory. Staff members also claimed to hear whispers, the sounds of people sobbing, moaning noises, and phantom footsteps. The footsteps, which sounded as though they belonged to a group of several people, were usually heard on a staircase in the lobby. Doors that were located nearby often opened and closed by themselves. Those who experienced these strange events came to believe that the tragedy of yesterday was still replaying itself on the former armory in its later incarnation. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The site of what became the Second Regiment Armory morgue was not the only location in Chicago that resonated with chilling stories of Eastland disaster ghosts. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There were reports of the ship itself being haunted that date back to the time just after the disaster and prior to its sale to the Navy. During that period, it was docked near the Halsted Street Bridge and regarded with superstition by passers-by. One lonely caretaker, Captain M.L. Edwards, lived aboard it and said he was awakened by moaning noises nightly, though he attributed them simply to the sound of the ship falling apart. Amused as he claimed to be to see people hurry across the bridge, terrified when they saw a light in his cabin, he was very glad to move off the ship after its sale to the Navy in December 1915.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The site on the river where the disaster occurred has its strange stories to this day. For many years, people who have passed on the Clark Street Bridge have claimed to hear moaning and crying sounds coming from the river, along with bloodcurdling screams, and pleas for help. In addition, some witnesses state that the cries are accompanied by the sounds of someone splashing in the river, and even the apparitions of people helplessly flailing about in the water.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During several incidents, witnesses have called for help from emergency services, believing that someone was actually drowning in the river. At least one man jumped into the water to try and save what he thought was a person who was unable to swim. When he returned to the surface, he discovered that he was in the river alone. He had no explanation for what he had seen, other than to admit that it might have been a ghost.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the same way that the former armory seems to have replayed an eerie recording of past events, the Chicago River also seems to be haunted. It appears that the horror of the Eastland disaster has left a memory behind at this spot and it continues to repeat itself over and over again - ensuring that the luckless victims from the Eastland will never truly be forgotten. </span><br />
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<br />Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-228330731022981102016-01-24T12:22:00.000-06:002016-02-15T09:27:23.691-06:00THE GREEN MILL<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Legends & Lore of Chicago's Greatest Nightclub & "Machine Gun" Jack McGurn</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">If I were forced to name only one location in Chicago as my favorite spot connected to the days of Al Capone, it would be legendary jazz club known as the Green Mill on North Broadway.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">As the city’s oldest nightclub, it’s been offering continuous entertainment since 1907 and remains today as an authentic link to not only Al Capone but to the club’s former manager ---- and Capone henchman ---- “Machine Gun” Jack McGurn.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">The Green Mill opened in 1907 as Pop Morse’s Roadhouse and from the very beginning, was a favorite hangout for show business people in Chicago. In those days, actors from the north side’s Essanay Studios made the roadhouse a second home. One of the most popular stars to frequent the place was “Bronco Billy” Anderson, the star of dozens of Western silents from Essanay. Anderson often rode his horse to Pop Morse’s and the proprietor even installed a hitching post that Anderson’s horse shared with those of other stars like Wallace Beery and William S. Hart. Back then, even screen greats like Charlie Chaplin stopped in sometimes for a drink.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Around 1910, the Chamales Brothers purchased the club from the original owners. They installed a huge, green windmill on the roof and re-named the place the Green Mill Gardens. The choice of the name “Green Mill” was inspired by the infamous Moulin Rouge in Paris (French for “Red Mill”) but green was chosen so that it would not be confused with any of the red light districts in Chicago. The new owners added outdoor dancing and live entertainment in the enlarged sunken gardens and also added a rhumba room next door. The Green Mill Gardens was more of a roadhouse that spanned an entire block than a cocktail lounge in those days.<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>Vintage Postcard of the Green Mill Gardens</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Tom Chamales later went on to construct the Riviera Theater, around the corner from the Green Mill. He and his brother leased the Green Mill to Henry Van Horne and it soon began to attract the best --- and worst --- of the late-night denizens of Chicago.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">By the time that Prohibition arrived, the Green Mill had become known as the most jumping place on the north side. Jazz fans flocked to the club to savor this new and evolving musical art form, which had been born in the south but had been re-created in Chicago after World War I. The jazz crowd ignored the laws against alcohol and hid their bootleg whiskey away in hip flasks, which they eagerly sipped at the Green Mill. The club helped to launch the careers of singers who went on to become legends like Helen Morgan, Anita O’Day, and Billie Holliday. It also offered an endless procession of swinging jazz combos and vaudevillians, who dropped in to jam or just to relax between sets at other, lesser clubs.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In the middle 1920s, Van Horne gave up his interest in the place and the Chamales Brothers leased the club to<span class="Apple-tab-span" style="white-space: pre;"> </span>Al Capone’s south side mob. Capone himself, although straying into the enemy’s territory on the north side, often enjoyed hanging out at the club, listening to the music, and drinking with friends.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In the case of the Green Mill though, it’s not the remnants of Al Capone that attracts crime buffs to the club, it’s the legend of Jack McGurn, who managed the club for Capone in the 1920s.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">James Vincenzo De Mora, or Jack McGurn as he later became known, was born in Chicago’s Little Italy in 1904. He grew up as a clean-cut kid from the slums who excelled in school and was an excellent boxer. A fight promoter managed to get him into the ranks of professional fighters and at the man’s suggestion; James adopted the ring name of “Jack McGurn”. He seemed to have a great career ahead, until his father, Angelo De Mora, a grocer with a store on Halsted Street, ran into trouble with the terrible Genna brothers and McGurn stepped over the line into the world of crime.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">At the start of Prohibition, the Gennas had transformed all over Little Italy into a vast commercial area of alcohol cookers. Stills were set up in almost every home, franchised by the Gennas, making homemade rotgut whiskey that was popular in neighborhood speakeasies. Angelo De Mora sold sugar to the Gennas for their operations, a relatively safe enterprise until some competitors for the position appeared on January 8, 1923. Angelo was found shot to death in front of his store.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">McGurn rushed home when he heard about his father’s death. He was only 19 but he immediately took the role of head of the household, shielding his mother and five brothers from the police. The police asked him if he was afraid for his life now that he was the man of the house.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">“No,” McGurn answered ominously. “I’m big enough to take care of this case myself.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">McGurn never got back into the ring. He picked up a gun and started working for Al Capone, who regarded him as his most trustworthy gunman and the man to carry out the most dangerous and grisly assignments. Within a few years, “Machine Gun” Jack McGurn was the most feared of Capone’s killers.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">McGurn relished his work, especially when six of his targets were part of the Genna mob, which he believed was responsible for his father’ death. In just over a month’s time, he wiped out the Genna's top men and he learned that one of these men had referred to his father as “a nickel and dimer.” So, after each of them had been machine-gunned to death, McGurn pressed a nickel into their palms, his sign of contempt and a trademark that would be forever linked to his murders.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">McGurn continued to earn his pay --- and his reputation. Joe Aiello’s feud with Capone over west side beer territories reached its peak when Aiello offered a $50,000 reward for Capone’s murder. He imported four out-of-town killers to do the job when no one in Chicago took him up on his offer. Days after their arrival, the four men met with the wrath of Jack McGurn. All of them were found riddled with machine gun bullets --- and with nickels pressed into their palms.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">When not working for Capone, McGurn frequented Chicago’s hottest jazz spots and managed to become part owner of several of them through intimidation and violence. By the time he was 23, McGurn owned pieces of at least five nightclubs and managed a number of other lucrative properties. He also managed the Green Mill for Capone and was later given 25 percent of its ownership in exchange for his loyalty. This became his usual hangout and he could often be found sipping liquor in one of the green-plush upholstered booths.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><b>Jack McGurn</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">McGurn was fiercely loyal to the Green Mill and so in 1927, became enraged when the club’s star attraction, singer and comedian Joe E. Lewis, refused to renew his contract, stating that he was going to work for a rival club. He opened to a packed house at the New Rendezvous the next night. Days later, McGurn took Lewis aside as he was about to enter his hotel, the New Commonwealth. McGurn had two friends with him and all three of them had their hands shoved in their pockets. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">McGurn told Lewis that they missed him at the club and that “the old Mill’s a morgue without you.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Lewis assured him that he would find another headliner and when McGurn told him that he had made his point and needed to come back, Lewis refused. He bravely turned his back on the killer and walked away.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">On November 27, three of McGurn’s men stormed into Lewis’ hotel suite, beat him and then cut his throat almost from ear to ear. The comedian survived the attack though, managed to recover his singing voice and continued with his career. Capone, unhappy with McGurn’s actions but unable to rebuke one of his best men, was said to have advanced Lewis $10,000 so that the performer could get back on his feet.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">A short time later, McGurn’s own career was almost cut short. Two machine gunners for George Moran, Pete and Frank Gusenberg (both later killed during the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre), caught up with McGurn in a phone booth inside of the McCormick Inn. Several bursts from their tommy guns almost finished McGurn for good but major surgery, and a long period of secluded convalescence, saved the killer. Interestingly, this phone booth can now be found in a little inn called the Ruebel Hotel in Grafton, Illinois. How it managed to end up here is anyone’s guess.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In early February 1929, McGurn visited Capone at his Palm Island, Florida home for a discussion about the north side gang run by George Moran. Ten days later, the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre took place. This hardly seems to be a coincidence!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">McGurn has always been connected to the massacre, as has Fred R. “Killer” Burke. George Brichet, a teenager, was walking past the garage when the five men entered on February 14 and overheard one of the men say to another one: “Come on, Mac.” He picked out McGurn’s photograph from police mug shots. Armed with an arrest warrant, police broke into McGurn’s suite at the Stevens Hotel on February 27. As they hauled the gangster away, they were cussed out by McGurn’s sweetheart, showgirl Louise Rolfe. The press dubbed her “the blonde alibi” and she swore that McGurn was with her at the time of the murders. McGurn was later indicted but he married Louise soon after and thanks to this, she was not required to testify against him.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">McGurn’s defense attorneys insisted four times that their client be brought to trial --- so that he could prove his innocence, of course. Each time, the prosecution stated that it was not ready to proceed. Under Illinois law, the prosecution was only allowed four legal delays of this kind. After they, they had to drop the case. McGurn was set free on December 2, 1929.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">McGurn’s likely role in the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre led to Capone putting him “on ice”. He was just too hot to use again as an enforcer. He began to be seen less and less with the boss and was not seen at all during Capone’s tax trial, the job of bodyguard given over to Phil D’Andrea.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Once Capone went to prison, McGurn’s prestige started to slip. He busied himself with his nightclubs, most of which went under during the Depression and Louise left him when his money ran out. Alone and flat broke; McGurn met his end on February 15, 1936 ---- the day after the anniversary of the St. Valentine’s Day Massacre.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">McGurn was in the middle of his third frame at the Avenue Recreation Parlor, a bowling alley located at 805 North Milwaukee Avenue, when remnants from the old Moran gang finally caught up with him. Five men burst into the place and while three of them pretended to rob the place, the other two machine-gunned McGurn to death on the hardwood lanes.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-murCHdaflxI/VqUVwVXyhTI/AAAAAAAAEhs/APaqWRww8CU/s1600/blog%2Bmcgurn%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="308" src="https://1.bp.blogspot.com/-murCHdaflxI/VqUVwVXyhTI/AAAAAAAAEhs/APaqWRww8CU/s400/blog%2Bmcgurn%2B2.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In his left hand, the killers had placed a comic valentine, which read:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You’ve lost your job.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You’ve lost your dough,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">Your jewels and handsome houses.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">But things could be worse, you know.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">You haven’t lost your trousers.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif;">In the palm of “Machine Gun” Jack McGurn’s right hand, the killers had placed a solitary nickel.</span>Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-81522155226016136442015-12-24T08:13:00.000-06:002015-12-24T08:13:11.858-06:00CHRISTMAS, BLOODY CHRISTMAS<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Lawson
Family Christmas Massacre</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There is nothing that can ruin the holidays like
murder, especially when the victims are an unassuming farm wife and six of her
seven children, all waiting for the happiness and joy that usually accompanied
Christmas. The story becomes even more tragic when it is revealed that their
killer was the husband of the farm wife and the father of those children – and that
he took his own life just after slaughtering his family.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The story of the Lawson Christmas Massacre took
place in 1929, near Germanton, North Carolina. Charlie Lawson was a simple man
with simple needs. He was a husband, father, and tobacco farmer. He worked
hard, kept his family fed, made sure his debts were paid, and that he kept a
roof over their head. The only true sorrow in his life had been when his third
child, William, had died from pneumonia. Everything seemed right in the world
for Charlie Lawson, but as they say, looks can often be deceiving.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H3T6JPSj2QE/Vnv86UM1LEI/AAAAAAAAEfI/c99FZo3s_j8/s1600/lawson%2Bchristmas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="257" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-H3T6JPSj2QE/Vnv86UM1LEI/AAAAAAAAEfI/c99FZo3s_j8/s400/lawson%2Bchristmas.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif; font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The entire Lawson family in a photo that was taken during a rare
shopping trip in the Fall of 1929. Charlie bought everyone in the family a new
suit of clothes and they posed in town for their first-ever family portrait.</span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Back Row: Arthur “Buck”; Marie; Charlie; Fannie; Mary Lou<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Front Row: James; Maybell, Raymond; Carrie.<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As Christmas Day, 1929 approached, the Lawson
children grew more excited. They didn’t expect a lot of gifts since they had
just received new clothing a short time before, but there would be lots of food
to eat and lots of fun to be had with friends and relatives who lived nearby.
They had no way of knowing that the day would be anything but happy – it would
end in a terrifying slaughter that still reverberates in North Carolina today. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The victims of what turned out to be a baffling
crime included six of the children, and Charlie’s wife of 20 years, Fanny. The
youngest child was Mary Lou, who was only four months old at the time of her
death. The only surviving child was Arthur, a 16-year-old that everyone called
Buck. He only survived because he was sent on an errand by his father that
Christmas afternoon. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The errand itself was a disturbing one. Buck and
his cousin were sent trudging through the snow to Germanton to buy more shotgun
shells for Charlie. However, when Buck returned home, he was stunned to find
that his mother, sisters Marie, 17, Carrie, 12, Maybell, 7, and baby Mary Lou,
and brothers, James, 4, and Raymond, 2, had all been slain by his father. They
had been killed one by one, and Charlie had apparently chased down Carrie and
Maybell after they ran away from the Lawson house in terror. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Charlie had annihilated his entire family. The
interior of the house looked as though it had been drenched with buckets of
blood. Some of the Lawson family had been killed by gunshot, others had been
beaten to death, and others had died from a combination of the two. All of the
bodies were found inside of the house, or in the adjacent tobacco barn. Some
accounts say that Charlie placed small stones over the eyes of his victims. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Buck immediately ran to a neighbor’s house to
ask the man to call the sheriff. He was sure that intruders had broken in and
killed his family. As lawmen arrived on the scene, they came to a grim
realization about what had occurred – Charlie Lawson had been the one who did
the killing. When they told Buck, the young boy collapsed in the front yard.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hours passed with no sign of Charlie. Men combed
the surrounding woods and at some point around 10:00 p.m., a shot rang out in
the trees behind the barn. All activity around the house suddenly stopped and
everyone looked anxiously toward the woods, and then to the sheriff. Believing
that Charlie may have fired the shot, and fearing that anyone venturing into
the woods could be shot, the sheriff didn’t move. Eventually, a few of the men
ventured into the shadowy forest. Moments later, they called back that Charlie
was dead.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The scene in the woods was a strange one.
Charlie had been there for hours, walking around and around in a circle around
a tree. He had walked around and around the tree so many times that the snow
had melted, making a path. Eventually, he sat down at the base of the tree,
leaned back, put the gun barrel in his mouth, and pulled the trigger. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Newspapers all over the country featuring glaring
headlines about the murders the next day. The eyes of the entire country were
focused on Stokes County, North Carolina and after the initial shock of what
had happened, the only one question remained: Why? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There was no apparent motive. The Lawsons weren’t
rich, but they weren’t having any financial problems. Charlie Lawson was a
likable man. He was a hard worker. He didn’t have any extreme religious or act
strange in any peculiar way. Most people in the community liked and respected
him. They couldn’t imagine why he would have done such a terrible thing.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Soon, though, two theories emerged. The first was
that Charlie had a medical condition that affected his mind and made him snap
that day. Earlier that summer, while breaking up some new fields, Charlie had
been hit in the head with a tool. He didn’t seem severely injured by it, but a
few weeks later, he started seeing a local doctor for what he described as
blinding headaches and trouble sleeping. A few friends belatedly admitted that
Charlie had never been the same after the injury. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few weeks later, Charlie and his sons were
working in the fields and Charlie became angry with Buck, and attacked him.
Buck, almost as large as his father, defended himself until Charlie backed
down. Charlie had never acted that way before. Buck then took it upon himself
to try and protect the rest of the family from Charlie’s temper – which may
have been the reason that Charlie sent him away on an errand when he massacred
the rest of the family. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The second theory that emerged was much more
scandalous. There were rumors that Charlie had impregnated his teenage
daughter, Marie, and had killed his family to prevent the incestuous scandal
from being known.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Whatever the truth was, though, Charlie took it
to his grave. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The murders attracted so much attention that at
least 5,000 curiosity-seekers showed up for the funeral of the Lawsons, who
were buried in a single plot at the Browder Family Cemetery, outside of
Germanton. To protect the Lawson house, Marion Lawson, one of Charlie’s young
brothers, planted posts around the farm and strung up a wire fence around the
site. Townspeople assumed that Marion was trying to keep away the morbidly
curious, but that was not the case – he was turning the house into a tourist
attraction. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the spring of 1930, hundreds of travelers
came to see the place where the murders occurred. They handled the family’s
belongings, gaped at the bloodstains on the floors and walls, and stood on the
spot where the Lawson children breathed their last. The locals grumbled about
the “shameful” attraction for a time, but only until they realized that the
tourists were stopping in town to eat, buy gas, and stay in the new hotel. With
the money Germanton was making from the tourists, the little town began to
thrive during an era when most of America was suffering. As morbid as it may
sound, it’s believe that Charlie Lawson saved from Germanton from the Great
Depression. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After interest in the Lawson farm began to wane,
parts of the gruesome display were packed up and taken on the road. It made the
rounds of sideshows and carnivals throughout the country for a number of years
before it was eventually shut down, and some of the pieces were returned to the
farm. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As decades passed, and the house fell into
decay, children and adults alike wandered through the property. On many
occasions, people left the house believing that at least of the deceased
Lawsons were not resting in peace. By 1980, the old Lawson house was no more.
The new owners had replaced the house and barn with a cultivated field. There
was nothing left to see, and nothing to explore. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But that doesn’t mean that the hauntings have
stopped entirely. The home that once belonged to the Lawsons’ closest neighbors
is now the Squires Inn Bed and Breakfast. Shortly after moving into the house,
the owner looked up and noticed a little boy and girl peering back at her
through the glass in the one of the door. They disappeared, but she saw them
again, and decided to do some research. After discussing her experiences with a
local historian, she was shown the Lawson family portrait, taken shortly before
they died. The woman immediately recognized her young visitors in the
photograph. She had been visited by Maybell and James Lawson. The historian
told her the Lawson children had frequently crossed the field to play with the
children who had once lived in her house. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As the years have passed, the children have
remained. Although saddened by their fate, the inn’s owner states that she
finds some peace in the fact that the children have each other. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This complete story of the Lawson family murders
can be found in the book, FEAR THE REAPER, by Troy Taylor and Rene Kruse. <o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-24908962298691856032015-12-24T08:04:00.000-06:002015-12-24T08:04:24.898-06:00A DEADLY CHRISTMAS<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ghosts of the
Babbs Switch School Fire</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The holiday season of 1924 was a brutal one in
Oklahoma. As winter solstice was marking the change of seasons, bitter cold
swept across the plains. Frigid temperatures raged south out of western Canada
like a runaway freight train. Snow covered most of Oklahoma. The roads were
slippery and the chill caused a run on heating stoves and warnings were sounded
for railroad men, police officers, and others who worked outdoors at night. And
then came Christmas Eve, when a fire broke out in a one-room schoolhouse in
Babbs Switch, located just a few miles south of Hobart, Oklahoma. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The tragedy is nearly forgotten today, but at
the time, it turned Christmas into a mournful holiday for the people of the
region. Three dozen people died on that cold night – and left a dark haunting
that lingered behind for years. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kJFSvq1TZN0/Vnv7Gku4QrI/AAAAAAAAEe4/v2TlbdfetrY/s1600/babbs%2Bswitch.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="231" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-kJFSvq1TZN0/Vnv7Gku4QrI/AAAAAAAAEe4/v2TlbdfetrY/s400/babbs%2Bswitch.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 12.6667px;"><b>Children from the Babbs Switch School near Hobart, Oklahoma</b></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The evening of December 24 began with joy and
laughter. The little school building was packed with over 200 students and families,
enjoying the annual Christmas program. A Christmas tree, decorated with lighted
candles, stood at the front of the room. Beneath it was a pile of presents that
were going to be handed out to the children at the end of the evening. The fire
began when a teenage student dressed as Santa Claus was removing presents from
under the tree. He bumped against a branch and one of the candles was knocked
loose. The flames ignited the sleeve of his suit and things quickly spun out of
control. Fire ignited paper decorations, tinsel, and dry needles and spread
quickly across the stage. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In a panic, people rushed to the building’s
single door, which opened inward, as far too many doors to public buildings did
in those days. As more people piled against the door, it prevented anyone from
opening it. Others rushed to the windows for escape. Unfortunately, though, the
windows had recently been fitted with bars to keep vandals out of the school. A
few men managed to break the glass and pass smaller children to safety between
the bars. A teacher, Mrs. Florence Hill, saved several of her students’ lives
in this manner, but she herself perished in the fire. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When it was all over, the fire had claimed 36
lives, among them several entire families.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The dead and injured were transported by car to
Hobart, the nearest town of any size, and a temporary morgue was set up in a
downtown building. As the numbers of the dead and injured (37 people were taken
to the Hobart hospital) were counted, there seemed to be one child that was not
accounted for. The child, a little three-year-old girl named Mary Edens, was
reported as missing, but her body was never found. Her aunt, Alice Noah, who
escaped from the school but died a few days later, claimed that she carried
Mary out of the building, but handed it to someone she did not know. Mary had
simply disappeared without a trace in the wake of the fire. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Babbs Switch fire led to stricter building
codes in Oklahoma, especially for schools. It was also one of the catalysts for
modern fire precautions against inward-opening doors, open flames, locked
screens over windows, and a lack of running water near public buildings. Those
who died that night probably saved the lives of future generations of Oklahoma
schoolchildren. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As it happened, there was a strange twist to the
Babbs Switch story in 1957. A California woman named Grace Reynolds came
forward and claimed that she was actually Mary Edens, the little girl presumed
killed in the 1924 fire. Mary had been a toddler at the time and her body was
never found. Reynolds story was that she was handed out the window by her
“real” mother into the arms of a childless couple who assumed that none of her
relatives survived the fire and informally adopted her and raised her as their
own. Reynolds became a minor celebrity, reuniting on the air with the Edens
family on Art Linkletter’s House Party television show, and later wrote a book
about her experiences entitled<i> Mary,
Child of Tragedy: The Story of the Lost Child of the 1924 Babbs Switch Fire.</i>
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Sadly, though, the whole thing was a hoax. No
one knows why Grace Reynolds believed, or claimed to believe, that she was Mary
Edens. It’s possible that she believed that she was adopted, or that perhaps
she learned of the fire and saw a way to get attention by claiming to be the
missing little girl. Her motives remain a mystery. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In any case, a local newspaper editor uncovered
the hoax, and informed Mary Edens’ father about what he had discovered. Mary’s
father asked that the editor not publish his findings, as he believed that his
wife could not endure losing her child for a second time. The editor respected
his wishes and his findings were not revealed until 1999.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even this sad footnote to the fire was not the
end of the story. In 1925, a new school was built at the site, but closed in
1943 when the Babbs Switch district was absorbed by the nearby Hobart school
district. A stone monument was placed at the scene, bearing a short description
of the fire and a list of the dead – the dead that some say do not rest in
peace.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But it’s not the site of the school where ghosts
of the past are reportedly restless. The bodies that were taken from the site
were brought to Hobart and placed in a temporary morgue, which is now the fire
station and the Shortgrass Playhouse. It is rumored that the ghost of a little
boy has been seen throughout the building, running around the fire truck bays
and scampering down hallways. There is also the ghost of a little girl who has
been seen on the stage of the playhouse. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 9.5pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Who these spectral children may be is unknown.
Half of the dead from the fire were children and none of them were
recognizable. They had to be identified by jewelry, dentures, and anything that
might be unique to a person. Two little brothers were identified by a toy gun
found lying next to one boy, and the belt buckle of the other. The identities
of the boy and girl who remain at the place where their bodies were taken after
the fire remain a mystery, but we can only hope that they have found a little
peace since their terrible deaths.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-56942410990731506662015-12-18T14:24:00.000-06:002015-12-18T14:24:15.787-06:00"THE CLAY PIGEON OF THE UNDERWORLD"<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<b><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Murder of Jack “Legs”
Diamond</span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On December 18, 1931, gangster and bootlegger,
Jack “Legs” Diamond, was shot to death in a rooming house in Albany, New York.
Diamond had already survived five attempts on his life between 1916 and 1931,
causing him to be known as the “clay pigeon of the underworld.” In 1930, Dutch
Schultz, an enemy of Diamond, remarked to his gang, “Ain’t there nobody that
can shoot this guy so that he don’t bounce back?” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">This time, Diamond didn’t “bounce back.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wwjr3qUoY7A/VnRrCI69i1I/AAAAAAAAEeU/pHxnDI-bG3E/s1600/legs%2Bdiamond%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-wwjr3qUoY7A/VnRrCI69i1I/AAAAAAAAEeU/pHxnDI-bG3E/s400/legs%2Bdiamond%2B1.jpg" width="312" /></a></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Jack “Legs” Diamond<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Diamond, whose real name was John Moran, was born
in Philadelphia on July 10, 1897. His parents, John and Sara, were Irish
immigrants. In 1889, a younger brother, Eddie, was born. The two boys struggled
through grade school, while their mother suffered from health problems. She
died on December 24, 1913, and their father moved them to Brooklyn soon after.
Jack almost immediately fell in with some of the young street gangs of the era,
notably the Boiler Gang. His first arrest for burglary occurred when he broke
into a jewelry store on February 4, 1914. More than a dozen arrests would
eventually follow. After a brief stint in a juvenile reformatory, he was
drafted into the military during World War I. Not surprisingly, he deserted
after less than a year and was sent to Leavenworth. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When he got out of prison in 1921, he returned to
New York, where he began associating with Charles “Lucky” Luciano, who was then
a young, but up and coming gangster. Diamond did odd jobs for Luciano, who
introduced him to gambler Arnold Rothstein, who was the most powerful mobster
in the city at the time. He eventually became Rothstein’s personal bodyguard
and was cut in on the new heroin racket, which was making a lot of money.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Diamond, who had taken in his younger brother
Eddie, was now making a lot of cash and the brothers decided to start their own
bootlegging business. It was a common practice at the time to hijack liquor
shipments from other gangsters and then sell it, hurting the competition and
making a huge profit. Unfortunately, the brothers decided to hijack truckloads
that belonged to Owen “The Killer” Madden and “Big Bill” Dwyer, two of the most
ruthless Irish mobsters in the city. They were also connected to a larger
syndicate that was run by Dutch Schultz, Luciano, Meyer Lansky, and others.
Once word got around that the hijackings had been carried out by the Diamonds,
the brothers lost any protection that they might have had and became targets
for everyone. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On October 24, 1924, Diamond was driving his Dodge
sedan along Fifth Avenue and stopped at the intersection with 110th Street. A
large black limousine pulled up next to him. A shotgun appeared from the back
window and, according to witnesses, opened fire on Diamond. He ducked down and
hit the gas. He drove an entire block without looking over the dashboard. When
he did, he saw that the black car was gone. He drove himself to nearby Mount
Sinai Hospital, where doctors removed shotgun pellets from his head and face.
When the police questioned him, he shrugged the whole thing off. They must’ve
thought he was someone else, he told them. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It was obvious to Diamond that he needed
protection, so he turned to Jacob “Little Augie” Orgen, a Jewish gangster who
ran several rackets in Lower Manhattan. The main thing that he had going for
him, as far as Diamond was concerned, was that he was one of the few people who
didn’t want to kill him. Orgen wanted to increase his own power base so that he
could compete with Luciano, Lansky, and the rest. Diamond would provide some of
the muscle that he needed. Jack and Eddie became Orgen’s bodyguards and, in
turn, Orgen cut them in on his liquor and narcotic rackets. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Then, on October 15, 1925, Orgen and Diamond were finishing
their daily meetings and collections rounds and were approaching the corner of
Delancy and Norfolk Streets in Lower Manhattan. Three men approached them and
started shooting. Orgen was fatally wounded in the head and Diamond was hit
twice on the right side. He was taken to Bellevue Hospital for emergency
surgery and eventually recovered. He refused to tell the police anything and
they tried to charge him with murder, but couldn’t make anything stick. Orgen’s
murder was never solved, although it was believed to have been arranged by
Louis “Lepke” Buchalter and his partner, Jacob “Gurrah” Shapiro. They wanted to
take over Orgen’s rackets and it’s believed that Diamond may have been in on
the plot. After he was released from the hospital, he took over Orgen’s liquor
operation, while Buchalter and Shapiro took over the dead man’s narcotics and
other rackets. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">With cash now pouring in, Diamond became a regular
on the nightclub circuit and his picture started showing up in the newspapers.
He was never portrayed as a gangster, though, only as a “wealthy man about
town.” The public loved him and so did the ladies. Although married, he was a
womanizer and his best-known mistress was showgirl and dancer Marion “Kiki”
Roberts. His flamboyant lifestyle kept him out at the clubs at night and this
may have been how he obtained the nickname “Legs.” He was a great dancer and
was part owner of the Hotsy Totsy Club, a dance spot on Broadway. So, the
nickname could have come from this or, as others have suggested, from his
uncanny ability to escape death. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On July 14, 1929, violence came to the Hotsy Totsy
Club. Two brothers, Pete and William “Red” Cassidy, along with a friend named
Simon Walker, started a fight at the club after bartenders and staff members refused
to serve the already drunk men. When a waiter told them to quiet down, Red
turned on the waiter and began arguing with him. Walker grabbed club manager
Hymie Cohen by the arm, demanded service, and threatened to destroy the club if
they didn’t get it. He then shoved Cohen to the floor. Diamond and one of his
cronies, Charles Entratta, saw the exchanged and stepped in. He told Walker, “I’m
Jack Diamond and I run this place. If you don’t calm down, I’ll blow your
fucking head off.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Walker turned to Diamond and snarled, “You can’t
push me around.” Those turned out to be his final words.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Diamond and Entratta both pulled their guns and
shot Walker and the Cassidy brothers. Red was hit three times in the head, once
in the stomach, and once in the groin. Walker was hit six times in the stomach.
Both men were dead when they hit the floor. When the police arrived, Pete
Cassidy was lying at the bottom of a flight of stairs with three gunshot
wounds. Guns were found on all three of the men, who had extensive arrest records.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">There were more than 50 people in the club when
the incident took place – but no one saw a thing. Their backs were turned, they
told detectives, or they were in the bathroom. Within six weeks of the
shooting, Cohen, the waiter, two bartenders, and the club’s hat-check girl all
disappeared. The waiter’s bullet-ridden body was later found in New Jersey. No
trace was ever located of the others. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">No witnesses ever came forward, so Diamond and
Entratta were never charged. With the heat on him, though, Diamond closed down
the club and moved to Greene County in upstate New York with his long-suffering
wife, Alice. But he was only in Greene County for a short time before he sent
word to New York that he was planning to return soon and reclaim what was his.
When he had left the city, Schultz and Madden had quickly taken over his
rackets. His planned return made him an immediate target and earned him the
moniker of “clay pigeon of the underworld.” <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T-WXtHgxjuc/VnRrCF89PTI/AAAAAAAAEeg/jazP1AQmmJs/s1600/legs%2Bdiamond%2B2.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-T-WXtHgxjuc/VnRrCF89PTI/AAAAAAAAEeg/jazP1AQmmJs/s400/legs%2Bdiamond%2B2.jpg" width="255" /></a></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Diamond with his wife, Alice. <o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1930, while preparing for his move back to the
city, but also while establishing a bootlegging operation in Greene County,
Diamond and two others kidnapped Grover Parks, a truck driver, who had been
hauling liquor. They wanted to know where he was picking up his alcohol
shipments, but Parks refused to tell them. Oddly, they set him loose. A few
months later, Diamond tried the same thing with another driver, James Parks,
and this time, he was arrested and charged with kidnapping. He was later
acquitted at trial. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In late August 1930, Diamond traveled to Europe.
He told reporters that he was on his way to Vichy, France, where he would take
a mineral water “cure” for his health. The real reason for the trip, though,
was to establish a German liquor source. He was planning to smuggle alcohol
from Europe to reestablish his New York operation. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But nothing went according to plan. When the ship
docked in Belgium, he was taken into custody by the police. After several hours
of questioning, he was put on a train to Germany. When he arrived there, he was
arrested by the German Secret Service and put him on a freighter that was bound
for Philadelphia. It arrived on September 23 and he was immediately arrested by
the Philadelphia police. At a court hearing on the same day, Diamond was told
that he would be released if he left for New York within the hour. The weary
gangster readily agreed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In New York, he moved into the Hotel Monticello in
Manhattan and began trying to take back his rackets in the city. Hardly anyone
was happy to have him back. On the morning of October 10, 1930, Diamond was wounded
by three men who forced their way into his hotel suite and shot him five times.
Still in his pajamas, he staggered out into the hall, where he collapsed. He
was rushed to Polyclinic Hospital, where he slowly recovered enough to be
discharged on December 30. When asked how he had managed to make it to the
hallway with five bullets in him, Diamond said that he had already had two
shots of whiskey for breakfast. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On April 21, 1931, Diamond was arrested again,
this time on assault charges that dated back to the Parks beating in 1930. Two
days later, he posted bond and was released. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A week later, however, he was shot and wounded
again. He was at a roadhouse called the Aratoga Inn, near Cairo, New York,
which was owned by Jimmy Wynne. Wynne had numerous underworld connection and
the nightclub was a popular hangout for gangsters. Diamond had just finished
eating with three companions and was waiting on a telephone call from his
attorney. As he walked to the front door to get some fresh air, three gunmen
who were dressed as duck hunters, opened fire on him. Diamond was hit several
times. A local man drove him to a hospital in Albany, where he was treated for
his injuries. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">His troubles continued. On May 1, while he was
still in the hospital, New York State Troopers seized beer and liquor worth
more than $5,000 from one of Diamond’s hideouts in Cairo. He was charged with
bootlegging and sentenced to four years in state prison. He appealed the
conviction and remained free on bail while he awaited the outcome of the appeal.
<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Meanwhile, Diamond still had to face the music in
the Parks case and later that year, he went to trial. He was again acquitted on
the assault and kidnapping charges. He left court a free man on December 17,
1931.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the mood for a celebration, he and his family,
along with a few friends, celebrated at the Rainbow Room of the Kenmore Hotel,
the best hotel in Albany. At about 1:00 a.m. on December 18, he left the party
and went to his see his mistress, “Kiki” Roberts, who was staying at another
hotel. Roberts had attended the celebration party, but had left before
midnight. Diamond stayed in her room until about 4:30 a.m. and then was driven
to 67 Dove Street, a private rooming house where he had been staying during his
trial. He entered the locked front door with his key, went upstairs to his
room, and fell asleep on the bed. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Witness reports say that a large black car, which
had been parked down the street for some time, pulled up to the rooming house
soon after Diamond arrived. Two men got out and entered the front door, using a
key, and quickly went upstairs. When they got to Diamond’s room they either
used a key or, as some believe, Diamond drunkenly left his own key in the lock,
and entered the room. Diamond was asleep on the bed. While one man held him
down, the other shot Diamond three times in the head. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">They ran out of the room, but when they were
halfway down the stairs, one of the gunman rack back up, went back into Diamond’s
room, and shot him a few more times – apparently, just for good measure. The
landlady, Laura Woods, awakened by the shots, overheard the second gunman call
out, “Oh hell, that’s enough, come on!” The men left the house and drove away
in the black car.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A few minutes later, at 5:00 a.m., Mrs. Woods
telephoned Alice Diamond, the contact that Jack had given her in case there was
any trouble. Within minutes, Alice, one of Diamond’s men, and Diamond’s
eight-year-old nephew, Eddie, arrived at the house. Alice entered the room and
began to scream. She frantically wiped blood from his face with a towel while
the police and an ambulance were called. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt;">
<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Like most gangland slayings, the murder was never
solved. In this case, there were just too many suspects since almost everyone
seemed to want Diamond dead, from Dutch Schultz to the New York Syndicate,
relatives of the Cassidy brothers who had been shot at the Hotsy Totsy Club,
and even local politicians who wanted Diamond out of the Albany area. It didn’t
seem to matter to most who had killed him – there weren’t many who were going
to miss him. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Diamond was buried at Mt. Olivet Cemetery in
Queens on December 23. There was no church service of graveside ceremony. The
burial was attended by Alice, her sister and brother-in-law, three nieces, a
cousin, about a dozen reporters, and more than 200 curiosity-seekers. There
were no known gangsters in attendance and, against the custom of the day, none
of them sent flowers either. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br />
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Diamond may have gotten what he deserved, but
there was one sad footnote to the story. On July 1, 1933, Alice Diamond was found
shot to death in her Brooklyn apartment. It was speculated that she was killed
by her husband’s enemies to keep her quiet, but no one knows for sure. Her
murder, like the murder of Jack “Legs” Diamond, was never solved. </span><span style="font-family: Gulim, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></div>
Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-71693444089154675742015-12-16T11:22:00.000-06:002015-12-16T11:22:15.178-06:00DEATH OF THE "ICE CREAM BLONDE"<div class="MsoNormal" style="margin-bottom: 0.0001pt; text-align: justify;">
<b><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The Mysterious Tragedy of Thelma Todd<o:p></o:p></span></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The ghost of Thelma Todd still walks in Hollywood,
or at least that’s what the owners of a building on the Pacific Coast Highway
have claimed for years. It was in this building where Todd’s "Roadside
Rest Cafe" was once located and it’s not far from the house where she met
her mysterious end. This is a house where the ghostly elements of her demise
are still repeated today. But what strange events have caused this glamorous
ghost to linger behind in our world? The official cause of Thelma’s death was
said to be an accidental poisoning from carbon monoxide, but the true facts in
this sensational case remain unresolved to this day. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Perhaps this is why Thelma still lingers, looking
for someone to uncover what really happened on the night of December 16,
1935. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZHG3tpStgHo/VnGdDhKNjwI/AAAAAAAAEd0/iXyfj1er34I/s1600/thelma%2Bblog%2B1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ZHG3tpStgHo/VnGdDhKNjwI/AAAAAAAAEd0/iXyfj1er34I/s400/thelma%2Bblog%2B1.jpg" width="315" /></a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Thelma Todd</span></b><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thelma Todd was born on July 29, 1905 in Lawrence,
Massachusetts, and was the first of two children of John and Alice Todd.
Thelma’s father was a former police officer who had entered politics and had
little time for his family. Because of this, her frustrated mother channeled
all of her energy into Thelma and her younger brother, William. By the time
Thelma was 10, her father had become the director of public health and welfare
for the state of Massachusetts, a position that kept him away from home even
more. Thelma was an exceptional student and did very well in school. She had
also turned into a very pretty young woman. In 1932, she enrolled at the Lowell
State Normal School, intent on become a teacher. In 1925, her brother was
killed in an accident and engulfed by this family tragedy, Thelma began
dreaming of moving away and making a life away from her oppressive home.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Fate intervened when a local boy submitted her
high school picture into a statewide beauty contest and she won. This led to a
talent scout from Famous Players-Lasky (later Paramount) inviting Thelma to
screen test for the studio’s first film school. She passed the audition and
became one of the 16 attendees, on the condition that she lose 10 pounds before
arriving at the facility in Astoria, New York.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">During her training, Thelma fell in love with a
classmate, Robert Andrews, but the studio nipped the romance in the bud,
fearing gossip would somehow taint the new school. This led the
always-rebellious Thelma to seek revenge by being extra sexy and flirty around
studio executives. It was this aspect of her nature that led to her nickname of
“Hot Toddy.” With her classmates from the film school, Thelma made her screen
debut in the silent feature “Fascinating Youth” in 1926.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Initially, Thelma’s mother had been thrilled by
her daughter’s career opportunities, but she had doubts when she saw a
publicity photo of the pretty girl in a flimsy costume. Alice Todd rushed to
New York to voice her moral objections to studio executives. Already at wit’s end
with Thelma’s rebellious behavior, Paramount gave her an ultimatum – relocate
to Paramount’s studio in Hollywood, or go home. Thelma packed up and moved to
California.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thelma went to work under a five-year,
$75-per-week contract with Paramount and throughout 1927 she was given small
parts in a number of feature films like “Rubber Heels” with Ed Wynn and
“Nevada,” a western with Gary Cooper. Then, Al Jolson spoke a few words
onscreen in “The Jazz Singer” and motion pictures were changed forever. The industry
went through a terrifying series of changes as the "Talkies" became
the new medium of choice. The old silent films were gone for good and with them
went some of the biggest stars of the era. The careers of screen legends like
John Gilbert, Clara Bow, Norma Talmadge and many others were suddenly over.
They were forced into retirement when the public did not respond to the sound
of their voices. For Thelma, the coming of sound motion pictures could not have
occurred at a better time. She was now able to develop her wisecracking persona
and the demise of many screen veterans made room for newcomers and little-known
actors like Thelma. A new generation of screen stars was born. However,
Paramount discharged her in 1929.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">A short time later, Thelma was approached by Hal
Roach, who offered her a new movie deal that would also allow her to freelance
for other studios. Roach planned to feature Thelma with comedy actress Zasu
Pitts in a series of two-reel comedies. A former director at Essanay, Roach
persuaded Pathe to sponsor him in his own studios and he soon emerged as a
comedic talent, envisioning hilarious situations and translating them to film.
Roach concentrated more on story than slapstick and audiences loved him at the
box office. His biggest stars became Laurel and Hardy, Charlie Chase and Thelma
Todd. She proved to be a real asset to Roach, not only appearing in her own
films but as a female foil to Stan and Ollie and others.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At first, Thelma was reluctant to take the deal
with Roach because the requirement came with conditions. The first was that she
had to bleach her hair platinum blonde and the second required her to abide by
the “potato clause.” This meant that she was being signed at a certain weight,
and if she gained more than five pounds, it was cause for instant dismissal.
Thelma’s mother, widowed since 1925, was in Hollywood for one of her frequent
visits and she urged Thelma to take the deal. Before reporting to the Roach lot
for her first shoot, Alice Todd supervised the bleaching of her daughter’s hair
and helped her to arrange a stringent diet.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In addition to Thelma’s comedies for Hal Roach,
Thelma also played major roles in films for other studios. They were mostly
comedies in which she portrayed the sarcastic and wisecracking blonde role that
most suited her. She appeared in two different films with the Marx Brothers,
“Monkey Business” and the classic “Horse Feathers.” Stan Laurel always wanted
Thelma as the female lead in the Laurel and Hardy films, but her personality
didn’t always mesh with the two comedians on screen. She and Laurel became
close friends and he often found work for her in other films when she wasn’t
working for Roach. He loved her bawdy sense of humor and when she suffered from
boyfriend problems, she always confided in Stan.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thelma was always up for partying when she was not
at work and found it difficult to avoid liquor and foods, both of which were
fattening. Friends on the Roach lot introduced her to diet pills, and she soon
became hooked on the tablets. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By 1930, Zasu Pitts had moved on to other work and
Thelma was often joined on screen by Patsy Kelly. They were still going strong
in 1935 and her professional career was filled with high spots. Always restless
in her personal life, though, Thelma was pleased when director Roland West
started showing an interest in her, even though the unattractive older man was
already married to silent screen actress Jewel Carmen. West was one of the most
respected directors in Hollywood during the 1920s and early 1930s. While his
output of films was small, his work was appreciated by studios and audiences
alike. His greatest success came in 1926 with “The Bat,” an atmospheric
thriller starring Jack Pickford and Jewel Carmen. His visually astounding 1928
film, “The Dove,” won an Academy Award for art direction. In 1931, he created
one of the most extraordinary chillers of the time, “The Bat Whispers” with
Chester Morris. West and Thelma began a romance, with West promising her the
lead in Howard Hughes’ “Hell’s Angels,” but that role went to Jean Harlow
instead. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">To make amends, West cast Thelma as the lead in
“Corsair,” a new film that he was producing and directing for United Artists.
When released, the film bombed and Thelma returned to her heavy work schedule.
Although she was no longer romantically interested in West, they remained
friends. By then, he had lost interest in making movies and suggested that they
open a restaurant that catered to the film colony. Thelma promised to consider
the idea.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Around this same time, Thelma met Pasquale
DiCicco, a handsome New York playboy who associated with gangsters for the
thrill of it. The suave Pat, new to Hollywood, promoted himself as a talent
agent and began making the rounds of the L.A. restaurant and nightclub circuit.
Movie industry people knew that he associated with Charles “Lucky” Luciano, the
Syndicate gangster who was based out of New York, which, of course, made him an
intriguing character. Thelma was also amused by DiCicco and dating him gave her
life a touch of danger – although it would prove to be more danger than she
could have ever wanted.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thelma and DiCicco had a whirlwind romance and,
despite his violent temper and a number of beatings, the couple eloped on July
10, 1932 to Prescott, Ariz. The happy marriage did not last long. DiCicco
refused to settle into married life and often left his new wife alone at their
Brentwood home while he was out on the town. Frustrated, Thelma began drinking
heavily, always relying on her faithful diet pills to keep the weight off. One
night when Thelma convinced Pat to take her out with him to the clubs, DiCicco
introduced her to Lucky Luciano, who was in town for a visit. Thelma was
excited to be in the presence of the famous mobster, although DiCicco was
unnerved by the gangster’s obvious interest in his wife.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">By 1933, DiCicco was frequently away on business
in New York and Thelma was continuing to churn out films, including her popular
shorts with Patsy Kelly. Reportedly, she was seen out on the town several times
with Luciano during this period. By February 1934, Thelma filed for divorce
from DiCicco. That August, she began making plans with Roland West to open
their restaurant on the beach. With funding from West’s wife, supervision by
West himself, and Thelma’s name to lure in the film crowd, Thelma Todd’s
Sidewalk Café opened for business.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Located under the palisades of what is now Pacific
Coast Highway (then known as Roosevelt Highway), the restaurant occupied the
ground floor along with a drug store. On the second level were a bar, lounge,
and West’s business office, as well as two apartments, one of which West and
Todd shared “separately.” Nearby, at 17531 Posetano Rd, was the grand house
where West’s wife, Jewel, sometimes lived, along with her brother (the café’s
business manager), and his wife. Thelma stored her car in one of the garages of
the Posetano Road house. To reach the garage from the restaurant required an
arduous climb of 270 concrete steps. The café opened to good business. Many of
West’s and Thelma’s famous friends began frequenting the place and it became
popular with actors and star-struck fans alike. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In mid-1935, Thelma was spending much of her spare
time operating the café. She was still working hard, drinking, and keep up her
steady run of diet pills. Her hectic life was further complicated by several
threatening letters demanding a sizable blackmail fee. They proved to be the
work of a deranged stalker in New York and while this bit of strangeness worked
itself out, it was not the most frightening thing that Thelma had to deal with
that summer.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Her most disconcerting problem was the pressure
that she was receiving from Luciano to turn over the café’s third story storage
room (used unofficially as a gambling parlor for wealthy customers) to him as a
Syndicate operation. At that time, organized crime was starting to appear in
California, moving west from places like New York and Chicago. Bootlegging and
drug trafficking had long been a part of Hollywood, but in the middle 1930s,
Luciano was making an attempt to penetrate California with his illegal gambling
enterprise. He already had casinos all over the country and with so much money
flowing in and out of Hollywood, he was looking for a way to get a piece of the
action. Thelma kept refusing Luciano’s request and he eventually became
violent, causing her to break off all contact with him.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Their final confrontation came one night in late
November at the Brown Derby in Beverly Hills. According to witnesses, the pair
had a brief exchange in the restaurant:<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thelma Todd: “You’ll open a gambling casino in my restaurant over my
dead body!”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<i><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Luciano: “That can be arranged.”<o:p></o:p></span></span></i></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thelma threatened to take her problems with
Luciano to L.A. District Attorney Buron Fitts and made an appointment at his
office for December 17, 1935. To spite Luciano, she began converting the
third-floor café space into a steakhouse. Meanwhile, Pat DiCicco showed up one
day at the restaurant and asked her about the possibility of managing the
place. Thelma didn’t know if he was trying to get back into her life – or if he
was on a mission from Luciano. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span></span><b style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Thelma Todd’s
Sidewalk Café</span></b></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thelma’s film work continued to thrive. In 1935, she appeared with Bing Crosby in the
Paramount musical “Two for Tonight” and in November, she began working with
Laurel and Hardy again in the feature-length musical “The Bohemian Girl.” This
film was also based on an operetta and Stan found an unusual part for Thelma to
play. She appeared as a gypsy’s daughter, wearing a black wig to cover her
blond curls. She continued to work on the film well into December.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On December 14, Thelma received an invitation to a
Hollywood party. A few years earlier, she had made a film with Stanley Lupino,
the British stage comedian and father of actress Ida Lupino. Stanley and his
wife were in town, and Ida was hosting a dinner party for him at the Café Trocadero.
When Thelma informed West about the party, he was irritated with her that she
would not be at their own restaurant on such a busy night before the holidays.
But this was not the worst thing to come that night. A few days earlier, Pat
DiCicco had run into Ida Lupino at the Trocadero and she had unknowingly
invited him to the party. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On the afternoon of December 14, Thelma and her
mother went out Christmas shopping, driven by her chauffeur, Ernest Peters.
Later, she returned home to change clothes while her mother continued with her
errands. At 7:30 p.m., Peters, along with Mrs. Todd, picked up Thelma. The
actress was wearing a blue satin evening gown with lace and sequins, expensive
jewelry, and a luxurious mink coat. Before leaving, she and West argued again
about the café, but the still-rebellious Thelma slammed the door in his face
and walked out. After dropping Thelma off at the Trocadero, Peters took Mrs.
Todd home and then made himself available to drive Thelma home after the party.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The party was a great success and Pat DiCicco
showed up later in the evening with actress Margaret Lindsay, a subtle way of
snubbing his ex-wife. During the dinner, Thelma left the group to make a
telephone call and use the restroom. When she returned, she seemed moody, but
did not say why. Around midnight, DiCicco also made a mysterious phone call,
which left him jittery. He refused to comment on it and left with Lindsay at
about 1:15 a.m. without saying good night to anyone.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">While Thelma waited for her driver to arrive, she
asked her friend, theater owner Sid Grauman, to call Roland West and tell him
that she was on her way home. Sid made the call, telling West that Thelma
should be back at the apartment by 2:30 a.m., although a half-hour after that,
she was still waiting at the restaurant. The car reached its destination about
3:30 a.m. As usual, Peters offered to escort Thelma to the door, but she told
him that it wasn’t necessary. She gathered her coat around her and walked off
into the dark – and this was the last time that Thelma Todd was ever seen
alive.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At 10 a.m. on Monday morning, December 16,
Thelma’s maid, Mae Whitehead, entered the garage of the Posetano House and
found the body of Thelma Todd. She was lying face down on the front seat of her
Packard convertible. Her blond hair was matted and her skin was pale. She was
still wearing her clothes from Saturday night. A porcelain replacement tooth
had been knocked out of her mouth and blood was spattered on her skin, her
evening gown, and on the mink coat. The police were summoned at once and the
shoddy investigation – or cover-up, depending on what you believe – began. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><span style="font-size: 10pt;">Police crime scene photograph of Thelma slumped over
behind the wheel of her car. Suicide could not explain the beating that she had
taken before her death.</span></b><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Thelma died from carbon monoxide asphyxiation, but
how she managed to get locked into her garage, by her own hands or by someone
else’s, was a matter of conjecture. The investigation into her death revealed
more questions than answers. Some
suggested that Thelma might have committed suicide. It was not an uncommon
method for such an act, but then murders had been committed in a similar fashion.
In addition, if she had killed herself, where had the blood on her face and
clothing come from? To make matters more suspicious, an autopsy had revealed
that Thelma had suffered a broken nose, several broken ribs, and enough bruises
to suggest that she had been roughed up. This seemed to rule out suicide.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">As the investigation continued, some nervous
witnesses claimed to receive ominous threats and, in turn, recanted part, or
all, of their original statements. In another weird twist, when Thelma’s mother
first arrived at the scene, she insisted that someone had murdered her
daughter. Later, she said that she believed Thelma’s death had been accidental.
Then, still later in life, she changed her story again and once more said that
Thelma had been murdered. Did someone lean on Thelma’s mother during the
investigation and convince her that voicing suspicions of murder was a bad
idea?<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But if Thelma had been murdered, who had killed
her? Roland West seemed to be the likely suspect and witnesses from the party,
including Ida Lupino, said that she had been uneasy after making a telephone
call. All agreed that she had been drunker than usual when she went home and
Sid Grauman told the police about his telephone call to West. Also, witnesses
from the neighborhood told the court how they had seen Thelma, still in her
evening gown and mink coat, screaming obscenities and kicking at the door of
the apartment. Apparently, she may have made it to the top of the concrete
stairs, but could not get into the apartment.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Throughout the investigation, West contradicted
himself several times, changing his story about his activities over the weekend
several times. West admitted that instead of helping Thelma into bed on Sunday
morning, he had locked the door to the apartment. After their fight earlier on
Saturday, West had warned her that if she was not home by 2 a.m., he was going
to lock her out. Some have surmised that Thelma’s telephone call during the
party had been to West, hoping for a reprieve. When it didn’t come, she had asked
mutual friend Sid Grauman to call for her later. But West remained adamant and
said that after Thelma got home, they had another fight through the door.
However, he added a strange contradiction to his story. He stated that he had
later been awakened by his dog barking and was sure that he heard water running
in the apartment. He assumed that Thelma had somehow gotten into the house.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">An examination of the door did reveal marks where
it was apparently kicked. Police were baffled though as to how Thelma could
have gotten inside when it was bolted shut on the other side. This made them
even more suspicious of West. Someone raised the incredible theory that West
had hired an actress to pretend to be Thelma beating on the door while he was
actually beating the real woman to death inside. The idea of the look-alike
aside, West had a strong alibi against murder. Although his statement was
contradictory, there was no evidence to tie him to the murder scene. He was, by
his own admission, the last person to speak with Thelma on Sunday morning, just
a short time before she died.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another strange twist came from West’s wife, Jewel
Carmen. She claimed that she had seen Thelma on Sunday morning, after the sun
was up, driving her Packard past the intersection of Hollywood and Vine. At her
side was a handsome stranger. This testimony was very bizarre because the
coroner and the police believed that Thelma was already dead by then. They were
sure that she had died during the early morning hours of Sunday and was not
discovered until the following day.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But how reliable was Jewel Carmen? She was West’s
wife and he was the prime suspect in the case. If she were lying, why would an
estranged wife protect her unfaithful husband? Some suggested that perhaps if
West did kill Thelma, perhaps Carmen hoped to get back into his good graces by
providing an alternate killer in the form of the “handsome stranger.” She could
also put Thelma in another place far from the early morning argument with West.
All of the confusing stories, combined with no hard evidence, eventually
cleared West of Thelma’s murder.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Years later, sources who have studied the case
have pointed out West’s close ties to industry mogul Joseph M. Schenk and
believe that it’s possible that Schenk may have used his major clout to help
his friend get away with murder. Regardless, West never directed another film
in Hollywood. He and Jewel Carmen divorced shortly after Thelma’s death and
later, he sold the café. In 1950, he suffered a debilitating stroke and endured
an emotional breakdown. On his deathbed in March 1952, he confessed to Chester
Morris that he had always been haunted by Thelma’s death and felt that he was
in some way responsible for it.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">At the inquest that was held into Thelma’s death,
the jury ruled that she had died accidentally from carbon monoxide poisoning.
They had been confused by all of the complicated testimony and, lacking any
real evidence of murder, had no choice but to conclude that it had been an
accident.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But Thelma’s attorney, who attended the inquest,
was sure that the police had been on the wrong track all along. He requested a
second inquest, in which he would be able to prove his theory. He believed that
he could pin her murder, not accidental death, on Lucky Luciano. He was sure
that when Thelma had turned down the gangster’s offer to take over the gambling
at her café, she had unknowingly signed her own death warrant. The attorney was
convinced that Luciano, or someone who worked for him, had beaten Thelma, put
her in the car unconscious, and then started the engine. With the garage door
closed, she had been poisoned by the fumes. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The district attorney agreed to the idea and a
second inquest was scheduled. However, when Hal Roach learned of the plans for
the second inquest, he begged the D.A. to drop the matter. Terrified at the
thought of crossing Luciano, he urged the District Attorney to reconsider.
Reluctantly, he agreed and the case was closed for good. As a result, the
murder of Thelma Todd was never solved.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Although the case was wrapped up as far as the law
was concerned, there were just too many unanswered questions and, as usual,
involvement in the affair was enough to bring on the Hollywood style of
retribution. In the past, Hollywood circles had ruined the careers of many
popular stars and the death of Thelma Todd brought on the destruction of Roland
West, who never worked again. No one else wanted to join him in his descent
into obscurity. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The mystery over the unsolved death of Thelma Todd
has lingered for decades. Some believe this may be why her spirit is so
restless. Her ghost is still frequently seen and encountered at the building
where the Roadside Rest Cafe was once located. Staff members at the production
company that took over the space a few years ago stated that they often saw a
filmy apparition that resembled Thelma. It was often seen near the concrete
steps leading to the garage and also outside, in a small courtyard area. Was
she replaying the events that occurred on the night of her death? <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But the café is not the only spot connected to
Thelma Todd’s death where ghostly events have occurred. In the garage of the
house on Posetano Road, people have complained about the sound of a spectral
engine running when the space is actually empty. Others say they have smelled,
and have been nearly overwhelmed, by noxious exhaust fumes in the garage, even
when no car was present. Apparently, the terrible events of that long-ago night
in December have left an indelible impression on the place.<o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Will Thelma Todd ever rest in peace? It’s not likely.
Unless new evidence could somehow come to light, her murder will always remain
unsolved --- perhaps resulting in a tragic spirit that will continue to walk
for many years to come. <o:p></o:p></span></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">From Troy Taylor’s book, BLOODY
HOLLYWOOD. </span><span style="font-family: Gulim, sans-serif;"><o:p></o:p></span></span></i></b></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-size: 10pt;"><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></span></i></b></div>
Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6428910666212686772.post-4478288282631108502015-11-19T15:33:00.000-06:002015-11-19T15:33:46.312-06:00THE MYSTERIOUS DEATH OF THOMAS INCE<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>And the Haunting of Culver Studios</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">On November 19, 1924, Hollywood movie producer Thomas Ince died after celebrating his 42nd birthday aboard a yacht belonging to infamous newspaper publisher William Randolph Hearst, but to this day, the exact circumstances of his death remain a mystery. Could this be why his ghost still wanders the movie studio that he founded?<br /><br />Thomas Ince was a pioneering member of the Hollywood elite. In 1918, he founded Culver Studios and was considered to be the "Father of the Western." He was also the man who introduced the world to Mary Pickford, crowning her "America's Sweetheart." </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ince rose from being a $15 a week actor to become the head of a studio and to this day, still has a street named after him in Culver City: Ince Boulevard. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /><br />Almost a century later, Culver Studios remains one of Hollywood's most historic studios.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> It was the site of filming for “Gone With the Wind,” “Citizen Kane” and other classics. Over the years, the film lot has been home to such names as RKO, Howard Hughes, and DesiLu Studios. In addition to film classics, Culver Studios was also the birthplace to favorite television shows like “The Andy Griffith Show,” “Lassie,” “Hogan’s Heroes,” and “Batman.” Previous owners of the studios have included Cecil B. DeMille and eccentric billionaire Howard </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Hughes. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span>
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">But Thomas Ince had humble beginnings in the movie capital. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In 1915, Ince partnered with D.W. Griffith and Mack Sennett to create the Triangle Motion Picture Company in Culver City. Somewhere along the way, the deal went sour and Ince sold out and entered into a lease with Harry Culver for a new 14-acre studio fronting on Washington Boulevard. It took two years to build the Thomas H. Ince Studio, and in December 1918, a Los Angeles newspaper called it “a motion picture plant that looks like a beautiful southern estate.” Ince, a visionary in the industry, promoted the glamour of moviemaking and he entertained the King and Queen of Belgium and President Woodrow Wilson at the studios. The administration building became a well-known landmark and Ince was rapidly expanding his successful facility.</span><br />
<br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Unfortunately, it was not meant to last – and neither was Ince’s revered status. Sadly, Ince is remembered much more today for his scandalous death than for his contribution to the art of movie making. Ince died in November 1924 while celebrating his birthday on board a yacht owned by newspaper magnate William Randolph Hearst. The real story of how Ince died will never be known -- but Hollywood rumors tell a strange and twisted tale.</span><br />
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<a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ye6GABjCc-8/Vk4_Awqt-fI/AAAAAAAAEbk/xfpYNXKyN2g/s1600/thomas%2Bince.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-ye6GABjCc-8/Vk4_Awqt-fI/AAAAAAAAEbk/xfpYNXKyN2g/s1600/thomas%2Bince.jpg" /></a></div>
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<b>Thomas Ince</b></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ince’s mysterious death will forever be linked to Marion Davies and William Randolph Hearst, the greatest newspaper baron and one of the most powerful men in American history. By the 1920s, Hearst had also become a major film financier, as well. He had first become interested in film through newsreels in 1911, but soon his hobby turned to a quest for profit. It was not long before his zeal for the movies was enhanced due to his passion for furthering the film career of sweet, but untalented, film actress Marion Davies, with whom Hearst had been carrying on a notorious affair. Hearst bought stock in MGM and created Cosmopolitan Productions, a company that specifically produced Marion’s films. His newspapers and magazines proclaimed her to be a “miracle of the movies” and he did everything he could to entrench her into the Hollywood film colony.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Parties thrown at Marion’s beach house were the most extravagant in town and people grabbed at the chance of an invitation to a Hearst affair. In addition, being able to relax at Hearst’s vast mansion in San Simeon, with millions of dollars worth of imported furnishings, tapestries, paintings, and 35 automobiles in the garage, was a must for anyone lucky enough to get an invitation for the weekend. Marion also earned high marks as a hostess, even if privately the party attendees made fun at her attempts at acting on the screen.</span><br />
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<a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XKP6NGkQvtE/Vk4_bxGBt-I/AAAAAAAAEbs/nyxiYELx_IY/s1600/hearst%2Bdavies.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-XKP6NGkQvtE/Vk4_bxGBt-I/AAAAAAAAEbs/nyxiYELx_IY/s320/hearst%2Bdavies.jpg" width="257" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b>William Randolph Hearst and Marion Davies</b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Another popular party spot was Hearst’s 280-foot yacht, the Oneida. Invitations to the boat were even more highly coveted than those for the beach house parties. On the night of Saturday, November 15, 1924, the yacht left San Pedro Harbor for a weekend cruise to San Diego. The cream of Hollywood’s charmed circle received invitations to a party on board the Oneida that weekend. There were a number of guests on board, but the only names that became available after the party were Hearst, Marion Davies, actress Seena Owen and author Elinor Glynn. That weekend marked the 43rd birthday of Thomas Ince, who was in the midst of negotiations with Hearst concerning the use of his Culver City studios as a base for Cosmopolitan Productions. It had been planned to throw Ince a birthday party on board the yacht. Mrs. Ince, who had also been invited, decided not to go along on the trip because she was not feeling well.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ince, the guest of honor, missed the boat when it sailed from San Pedro because of his attendance at the premiere of “The Mirage,” his latest film. It is believed that he took the last train to San Diego, where he met the Oneida, and joined the party for the return trip. The celebration on board was said to be a wonderful occasion, but then things got murky.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the early morning hours of the following Wednesday, Thomas Ince died at his Benedict Canyon home. His death was attributed to “heart failure.” </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">When the news reached the press, all sorts of ugly rumors began to circulate, as well as a hash of conflicting stories. Things became so heated that Chester Kemply, the District Attorney in San Diego, where the yacht had been anchored for the weekend, was forced to open an investigation. The principals were all strangely absent at the hearings that followed. Hearst could not be reached for a statement. Marion, Elinor Glynn, and Seena Owen – the only names known for certain to have been on board – were not called by the D.A. to give testimony. </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The only person present at the hearing in San Diego was a doctor named Goodman, an employee of Hearst. His official version of events, which was printed in Hearst newspapers, stated that, after eating and drinking too much at the party, Ince died of “acute indigestion.” He was taken from the yacht and rushed home, where he later died. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">After the hearing, the case was closed. Originally, D.A. Kemply had insisted that he planned to call every single person who had been on board the yacht to give their version of events, but not only did he not call any of them, he suddenly, after just the one session, called off all further inquiry altogether. He was satisfied that Ince’s death had been explained – but others were not.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In Long Beach, a columnist named C.F. Adelsperger wrote, “At the risk of losing something of a reputation as a prophet, the writer will predict that some day one of the scandal-scented mysteries in filmdom will be cleared up. Motion picture circles have suffered alike from scandals and rumors of scandal. Deaths from violence or mysterious sources have been hinted at but never proved. If there is any foundation for suspicioning that Thomas Ince’s death was from other than natural causes an investigation should be made in justice to the public as well as to those concerned. If there was liquor aboard a millionaire’s yacht in San Diego Harbor, where Ince was taken ill, it should be investigated. A District Attorney who passes up the matter because he sees ‘no reason’ to investigate is the best agent the Bolshevists could employ in this country.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">One of the strangest facts about the cruise was that no accurate list of the guests on board the ship that weekend has ever been revealed. There were obviously many more people on board than has ever been reported. Several well-known personalities of the film world have been mentioned as Heart’s guests that weekend, but none of them ever publicly admitted to being on board the yacht. Of course, there were many rumors about who was there, just what actually occurred – and what really happened to cause the death of Thomas Ince.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Perhaps the most exciting rumor to make the rounds in Hollywood involved the presence of Ince’s friend, Charlie Chaplin, on board the Oneida for the party. Rumor had it, however, that Chaplin had not been invited just because he was Ince’s pal. Hearst was insanely jealous of other men’s attention to Marion Davies and his detectives had recently informed him that Marion and Chaplin had been seen together during a period of time when he was out of town. Hearst allegedly invited the comedic actor on board the yacht for the weekend cruise so that he could observe for himself how Chaplin and Marion behaved around one another.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">It is believed that Hearst saw Marion and Chaplin slip off together during the party and that he discovered them together on the lower deck. A loud altercation followed and Hearst ran for his cabin to retrieve a diamond-studded revolver that he kept on board. (Heart was rumored to be an expert shot and often amused his guests on the boat by shooting down seagulls with a single bullet.) In the confusion that followed, it was rumored a shot was fired but it was Thomas Ince, and not Chaplin, who ended up with a bullet in the head!</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Ince’s funeral was held on November 21, attended by his family, Marion Davies, Chaplin, Mary Pickford, Douglas Fairbanks, and Harold Lloyd. Hearst was noticeably absent. The body was immediately cremated and an official inquest was never held.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Despite the fact that the evidence was now in ashes, Hearst knew he could be in trouble with the Hollywood rumor mill. Everyone on board the Oneida was sworn to secrecy (and it wouldn’t be wise to cross Hearst) but, in spite of this, persistent rumors linked Hearst to Ince’s death. No one could resist talking about the way the hearings into Ince’s death had been called off, the lack of an official inquest, or the damning story that Charlie Chaplin’s secretary had seen Ince carried off the yacht bleeding from a bullet wound to the head. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Some thought it no coincidence that famed gossip columnist Louella Parsons was awarded a lifetime contract with Hearst soon after the incident since it was rumored that she had seen everything that had happened. Louella also felt the need to do a little covering up of her own and insisted that she had been in New York at the time of Ince’s death. The only problem with this story was that Vera Burnett, Marion’s stand-in, clearly recalled seeing Louella with Marion and Davies at the studio, ready for departure on the yacht. Vera valued her job, though, and decided not to make a big deal out of it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Marion and Hearst managed to ride out the scandal unscathed, but as DW Griffith remarked in later years, “All you have to do to make Hearst turn white as a ghost is mention Ince’s name. There’s plenty wrong there, but Hearst is too big to touch.” It was widely known in Hollywood that, if you ever wanted to attend another party at Marion’s beach house or the San Simeon castle, you didn’t mention Ince’s name anyplace where Hearst might hear you.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">In the years that followed, Hearst discreetly provided Ince’s widow, Nell, with a trust fund that was later wiped out by the Depression. Broke and penniless, Nell finished out her days as a taxi driver. As for Hearst, the entire affair was eventually reduced to a sardonic joke in Hollywood as the Oneida became known as “William Randolph’s Hearse.”</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Strangely, though, death did not bring an end to sightings of Thomas Ince and his mysterious death also started rumors about Culver Studios being haunted. Ince built the studios, but they changed hands several times after his death. Cecil B. De Mille, Howard Hughes, David Selznick, Desi Arnaz and Lucille Ball made significant contributions to film and television history on this lot. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The rumors of the haunting have persisted for years. Employees have reported ghostly figures roaming the lot at night while others recount being frightened by the apparition of a woman who appears on the third floor from time to time. She always disappears quickly, leaving a cold spot of chilling wind behind.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Most famous, however, are the sightings of Thomas Ince himself. Witnesses have reported seeing the ghost of a man climbing the stairs in the main administration building, heading for the executive screening room. This had been Ince’s private projection room during his tenure at the studio. Remodeling seemed to bring out the worst in Ince’s ghost in 1988 when he began to reveal his displeasure over some major renovations.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">The first to encounter him were two workmen who looked up to see a man in an odd, bowler-type hat watching them from the catwalks above Stage 1-2-3. When they spoke to him, he frowned and then turned and walked into the second floor wall. Later that summer, special-effects man Eugene Hilchey spoke to another worker who had also seen a man wearing an odd hat, this time on Stage 2-3-4. Hilchey was convinced the man’s description matched that of Ince. The workers’ statement was enough to cement his belief. The ghost had reportedly turned to the workmen and said, “I don’t like what you’re doing to my studio.” Then he vanished into the wall.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Even after the renovations, much of Ince’s original studio remains as it was and the sense of history here is very strong. Today, Culver Studios remains one of the busiest lots in town. Hopefully, Thomas Ince’s spirit can find a little peace in that!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><b><i>This is a story from Troy Taylor's Book, "Bloody Hollywood."</i></b></span><br />
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Troy Taylorhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/09315480436869583264noreply@blogger.com0