DEATH OF A GODDESS

The Mysterious end of Marilyn Monroe

There are few personalities of the twentieth century that have inspired as much enthusiasm and worship as Marilyn Monroe. She is one of Hollywood’s greatest icons and the facts, rumors, and legends about her life and mysterious death are an integral part of Tinseltown’s lore.

Unquestionably, a portion of Marilyn’s enduring fame stems from her sudden death at the age of 36. At first, most people agreed with the official verdict that her death was likely by suicide. But as the years have passed, he persistent questions about her demise have refused to go away. An increasing number of researchers have come to believe that her romantic relationships with the Kennedy clan, both John F. Kennedy and Robert Kennedy, might well have been the cause of her “suicide.” Many of those who believe that she was murdered also believe in a conspiracy that was created to cover up the secret homicide. These lingering questions, doubts, and theories have turned the death of Marilyn Monroe into one of Hollywood’s greatest unsolved mysteries.

Marilyn when she was still Norma Jean

She was born Norma Jeane Mortenson on June 1, 1926. Her mother, Gladys, had previously been married to a businessman, John Baker. She then wed a gas company meter man named Martin Mortenson. However, they had separated in 1925 and he had filed for divorce many months before Gladys became pregnant with Norma Jeane, making the baby’s father one of a number of different candidates. During much of Norma Jeane’s youth, the erratic Gladys was often institutionalized, which mean that Norma Jeane lived in foster homes and later, an orphanage.

    

In June 1942, to prevent being sent off to stay in another foster home, the 16-year-old Norma Jeane married James Doughtery, a 22-year-old aircraft factory worker. Doughtery was drafted and sent overseas during the war and Norma Jeane worked in a factory, inspecting parachutes. In 1944, she was photographed by the Army as a promotion to show women on the assembly line contributing to the war effort. One of the photographers asked to take further pictures of her and by the following spring, she had appeared on the covers of 33 national magazines. In July 1946, the would-be actress screen-tested for Twentieth Century Fox and was soon signed to a $75-per-week contract. The studio selected a new name for her, Marilyn Monroe, and gave her a minor part in the film “Scudda-Hoo! Scudda-Hay!” In September, she was granted her first divorce.

Marilyn only had a few small roles at Fox and after six months, her newcomer’s option was dropped. She ended up over at Columbia Pictures (reportedly after being forced to work the “casting couch” option) where she signed a new contract for $125 per week. There, she earned a part in the musical “Ladies of the Chorus.” Rumor has it that she ruined her chances on the lot because she refused to do special favors for studio mogul Harry Cohn. At this time, naïve Marilyn was involved with vocal coach and music arranger Fred Karger. When he dropped her for another girlfriend, Marilyn was devastated.

The goddess “Marilyn Monroe” was born

In 1949, she met agent Johnny Hyde of the William Morris Agency. He was married, short, unattractive, and 31 years older than Marilyn. Nevertheless, the high-powered agent became her mentor and her lover. She also agreed to pose nude for a calendar that year and her career was on its way. Her first major role came in 1950 in “The Asphalt Jungle,” which earned her great reviews. This was followed by “All About Eve” and others. Hyde died in 1950, but by then Marilyn was coming into her own at Fox and became the studio’s new blonde bombshell. Her rapid rise to fame, though, seemed to exacerbate her many insecurities and that made her temperamental both on and off the set. As a marquee attraction, she indulged her newfound power by rejecting studio projects, especially those that would further showcase her as a dumb blonde, an image that she hated. Her pleas to be given more substantial roles were virtually ignored, which only increased her frustration and added to her lack of self-confidence.

In 1952, Marilyn met and fell in love with Joe DiMaggio, the famous baseball player. That same year, she began filming “Niagara” with Joseph Cotten, a film that would establish her stardom, although “Gentlemen Prefer Blondes” with Jane Russell would make her a legend.

Marilyn and baseball star Joe DiMaggio. Their marriage didn’t work out, but DiMaggio continued to be in love with her until his death.

On January 14, 1954, Marilyn and DiMaggio were married. The wedding made headlines all over the world, but the “dream romance” was never meant to last. Joe was a jealous type who thought that Marilyn was going to drop out of the movie business and become a housewife, something that she was never destined to be. In the fall of 1954, they separated and were later divorced. Despite this personal crisis, Marilyn’s stardom continued to skyrocket as she filmed her classic role in “The Seven Year Itch.”

In early 1955, Marilyn rebelled further against the studio, went to New York, and joined the Actors Studio, intent on becoming known as a serious actress. Here, she renewed her acquaintance with playwright Arthur Miller and the two of them began an affair that would later lead to marriage. To Marilyn, Miller represented the serious theater and a keen intellect that she found very attractive.

Marilyn returned to Hollywood in February 1956, after a yearlong absence, to film “Bus Stop.” She earned solid reviews for the picture, which prompted her demand for greater control over her films, wishes that the studio ignored because she was difficult on the set and resistant to guidance. As the conflicts with her bosses intensified, so did her consumption of drugs and alcohol.

Marilyn and playwright, Arthur Miller

Marilyn sought relief from her problems by getting married again. She returned to New York in June and she and Arthur Miller were married on June 29. She hoped that this older, kind, and intellectual man would smooth over her escalating problems. Months later, Marilyn suffered a miscarriage, as would happen again in 1957 and 1958. During this emotionally draining period, she flew to England to star opposite Sir Laurence Olivier in “The Prince and The Showgirl.” It was an unhappy shoot and the film failed with both audiences and critics. After London, she returned to Hollywood to make “Some Like It Hot” with Jack Lemmon and Tony Curtis.

It was around this time when her health began to deteriorate thanks to her increased dependency on drugs, especially sleeping pills. She was often late arriving on the set and was unable to remember her lines. In 1960, she began seeing Dr. Ralph Greenson, the so-called “psychoanalyst to the stars.” As was common during this time, he relied heavily on prescribing barbiturates and tranquilizers to accompany his therapy.

July 1960 marked the start of filming for “The Misfits.” The movie was based on a short story by Arthur Miller but while on location, he and Marilyn lived in separate quarters and were hardly speaking. Drugs were flown in for Marilyn from her doctor, but somehow she managed to give an exceptional performance. The shoot would be marked with tragedy, though. On the day after filming was completed, co-star Clark Gable would suffer a serious heart attack and die. Marilyn felt a tremendous amount of guilt over his death, further aggravating her depression.

By late 1960, her marriage with Arthur Miller had completely fallen apart. Their divorce became final in Juarez, Mexico, in January 1961. During the filming of “The Misfits,” Marilyn was often out of control. At one point, she was hospitalized to detoxify and regain a degree of emotional stability. After her divorce from Miller, Marilyn spiraled even further down and began displaying suicidal behavior. In February, her analyst convinced her to enter the psychiatric ward of the Payne Whitney Clinic, where was confined for seven horrifying days. Subjected to a locked, padded cell, Marilyn, now even more distraught, called Joe DiMaggio and asked him to rescue her. He immediately arranged for a discharge.

Marilyn with Jack and Bobby Kennedy

In October 1961, Marilyn had her first meeting with President John F. Kennedy at a dinner party that was hosted by his sister, Pat, and his brother-in-law, actor Peter Lawford, at the couple’s home in Santa Monica, Calif. A few months later, Marilyn and Kennedy met again at a New York dinner gathering. Their third meeting occurred in late March 1962 at the Palm Springs home of Bing Crosby, where she and Kennedy were both houseguests. Reportedly, this is when the president and the movie star began their short-lived affair.

Meanwhile, in 1962, Marilyn purchased the first house that she had ever owned, a Spanish-style home in the Brentwood section of Los Angeles. At Greeson’s urging, she hired Eunice Murray as housekeeper. Murray called herself a nurse but had neither the training nor any credentials. Strangely, it is believed that Murray was essentially a “spy” for Greenson, who continued to have more and more control over Marilyn’s life. He saw her almost daily when she was in Hollywood.

Marilyn’s home in Brentwood

After a long period away from the soundstages, Marilyn returned to the studio in April 1962 to begin a romantic comedy called “Something’s Got To Give” with Dean Martin. Although Marilyn looked wonderful, she was an emotional wreck and on the days that she bothered to show up on the set, she was often struggling to remember her dialogue. No one at the studio was very happy, especially in light of the debt that had been recently created for the studio by the schedule and cost overruns on the set of “Cleopatra,” starring Elizabeth Taylor and Richard Burton. As the budget for that film climbed out of control, harried executives decided that by canceling Marilyn’s film, with a lower budget and fewer actors, they could save enough money to finish the filming of “Cleopatra.”

In mid-May 1962, during one of her many absences from the lot, Marilyn went to New York to sing “Happy Birthday” to the president at a Madison Square Garden party. Because Marilyn so brazenly defied the studio with her well-documented absence, her bosses became even angrier. Perhaps realizing that she had gone too far, Marilyn was much more cooperative when she returned to L.A. But by then it was too late. On June 1, Marilyn turned 36 and celebrated with a small party on the set. Six days later, Fox fired her for “unprofessional antics.” The studio also filed a $750,000 lawsuit against their former star and attempted to re-cast her part in the film. However, Dean Martin refused to work with anyone else but Marilyn. Cooler heads soon prevailed and the studio suggested a compromise: after Martin completed other film commitments, the movie would restart with Marilyn again as the leading lady.

In the meantime, Marilyn was contemplating other movie and stage offers, including some in Las Vegas, as well as the possibility of a layout in Playboy magazine. After short visits to New York and Mexico City, the actress returned home. On August 1, Marilyn was signed to a new $250,000 contract to complete “Something’s Got To Give.”

On Saturday, August 4, 1962, Marilyn was at home all day. Her only guest was her publicist, Pat Newcomb. Later reports would claim that Robert F. Kennedy visited the house that day. Around 5 p.m., Greenson, came over for their usual therapy session. Marilyn retired to her bedroom around 8 p.m. and took the telephone from the hall into the room with her. She made several phone calls that night, including one to Joe DiMaggio’s son, Joe Jr., who had recently broken up with his girlfriend. Marilyn called to console him.

She also called Peter Lawford to cancel a dinner invitation. Marilyn allegedly said to Lawford, “Peter, I don’t think I’m going to make it tonight because I don’t feel well. Will you say goodbye to Pat [Lawford’s wife] and to Jack and to yourself, because you’re a nice guy?” Lawford supposedly became concerned about the “goodbye” portion of her call and wanted to rush over to check on her, but was advised not to. As the president’s brother-in-law, it could generate adverse publicity for everyone if there was actually something amiss. Lawford later claimed that he contacted Marilyn’s agent and had that person call the house. Mrs. Murray answered the call at 9:30 p.m. and said that the telephone extension was still in Marilyn’s room, so she must be fine. She always placed the telephone outside her room at night so that her troubled sleep would not be disturbed if it rang. It is unknown if any other calls came into, or were made from, Marilyn’s house that night. The telephone records for the night of August 4 mysteriously disappeared after being obtained by the authorities from the phone company.

According to the “official” account of Marilyn’s death, Eunice Murray noticed a light shining under her bedroom door at about midnight (later revised to 3:25 a.m.). When Marilyn did not respond to Murray’s knocking, the woman went outside and peered through the closed window. Her view of Marilyn on the bed looked “peculiar,” so she telephoned Dr. Greenson. When he arrived, he broke a pane in the French window and opened the door, finding Marilyn on the bed, unconscious. Greenson then called Marilyn’s personal physician, Dr. Hyman Engelberg, who pronounced Marilyn dead at the scene. A short time later, the police were summoned to the house.

The death scene at Marilyn’s house

 When LAPD Sergeant Jack Clemmons arrived, he found several people there, including the two doctors and Mrs. Murray. Clemmons later said, “It looked like a convention” and added something “wasn’t kosher.” Clemmons affirmed that he found Marilyn lying naked, facedown, and at an angle on the bed in the sparsely furnished master bedroom. He noted that her arm seemed to be reaching out for the nearby telephone. An empty bottle of sleeping pills was found next to the bed. There were 10 to 14 other bottles on the nightstand, including one that contacted 10 capsules of chloral hydrate, used as a hypnotic. Marilyn’s body was taken to the Westwood Village Mortuary and the house was sealed and placed under guard.

Later, the body was taken to the county morgue, where Los Angeles County Deputy Medical Examiner Thomas T. Noguchi conducted the high-profile autopsy. Noguchi would claim that his youth and relative inexperience caused errors in the case, but later, claimed to have been pressured by his superiors to sign his original autopsy report on Monroe’s death. The official investigation attributed Marilyn’s death to “acute barbiturate poisoning, ingestion of overdose” -- namely Nembutal and chloral hydrate. It was determined to be a suicide. However, a strong forensic doubt can be cast on this conclusion since no barbiturates were actually found in Marilyn’s body, despite the blood and liver levels and the empty bottle of Nembutal found next to the bed.

Marilyn’s crypt at Westwood Memorial Park

After the autopsy, Joe DiMaggio came to Marilyn’s rescue once more. He flew from San Francisco to supervise the funeral arrangements. Marilyn was buried at Westwood Memorial Park, where for the next several decades, red roses were delivered to her crypt each week, courtesy of DiMaggio. Joe died at the age of 85 in 1999 and until the day he died, he regretted losing Marilyn and told friends that he had hoped to remarry her. Reportedly, not long before his death, Joe told his longtime attorney and friend, Morris Engelberg, “I’ll finally get to see Marilyn.”

Marilyn’s life was over, but she was certainly not being allowed to rest in peace. Controversy and conspiracy theories ran rampant after her death and many refused to believe that she had actually committed suicide. The most popular theories claimed that she had been silenced to protect the reputation of the Kennedy family, as revenge against the Kennedys, or worse.

The inconsistencies were so strange that they prompted a 1985 investigation into Marilyn’s death. According to Walter Schaefer, owner of the Schaefer Ambulance Company, he received a call at about 2 a.m. on the night of Marilyn’s death. He picked her up at her home and delivered her to Santa Monica Hospital, where she died in the emergency room. Inexplicably, though, she was found back at her house, naked, prone on the bed, reaching for the telephone. Deborah Gould, former wife of Marilyn’s friend Peter Lawford, insisted that Lawford and an investigator went to Marilyn’s house to “clean things up” and that Lawford destroyed a note she had written. Gould also stated that Lawford told her, “Marilyn took her last big enema.” At the time of her death, the actress had been taking enemas to facilitate bowel movements, but Gould interpreted this comment to mean something else – namely an enema filled with an overdose of drugs.

Most conspiracy theories about Marilyn’s death seem to connect to her alleged affair with John F. Kennedy. According to a number of accounts, they were attracted to one another after they met yet opinions vary as to just how serious the affair actually was. White House telephone logs show that they spoke on the phone numerous times, yet proving the two had an actual affair has been problematic. Somewhere along the line, the president’s brother, Robert Kennedy, was added to the mix.

According to the stories, Robert Kennedy arrived in L.A. on August 1, 1962 to give a speech to the Bar Association. Apparently, he met Marilyn later that evening at Peter Lawford’s house for an impromptu dinner. Some have speculated that Marilyn organized the dinner herself, while others claim that Bobby arranged the evening, primarily to tell her to stay away from his brother. In any case, the two supposedly ended up making love that night, further complicating matters. Days later, Bobby allegedly rejected Marilyn and warned her again about staying away from the Kennedy family. That forced Marilyn, who was already emotionally distraught, to threaten to expose the contents of her diary – contents that allegedly contained some pretty unsavory information regarding her affair with the president, and about the Kennedys’ collusion with organized crime. As the theory goes, Robert then had to have her silenced – or did someone do it for him?

Another popular theory describes Marilyn’s death at the hands of the mob. As many writers have suggested, the Mafia had a long-standing relationship with the Kennedy family, dating all the way back to Joseph Kennedy and his days as a bootlegger. Underworld legend has it that during the 1960 election, the mob put their muscle behind John Kennedy, especially in Chicago, to insure that he won the presidency. In return, they were given assurances that mob activities would be untouched during the Kennedy administration. But by 1962, it had become painfully obvious that the Kennedys had no intention of keeping up their end of the bargain. In 1960, for example, a mere 19 organized crime figures had been indicted, but within the first two years of the Kennedy administration, 121 Mafia characters were indicted, thanks to Robert Kennedy’s efforts as Attorney General. That left the mob with only one solution – to get the Kennedys out of the way. They tried to do this by first revealing the president’s messy affair with Marilyn, then arranging her death so that the Kennedys appeared to be involved. Unfortunately, for the mob’s efforts anyway, the possible connection between Marilyn and the Kennedys would not really become a part of popular culture until long after almost everyone involved was dead.

If there was a conspiracy behind Marilyn’s death, then based on the contradictions in the case, it would seem to have had to involve her analyst, Dr. Ralph Greenson. He was the man who provided Marilyn with her drugs in the first place. Apparently, on August 4, the day of her death, Greenson gave her a fresh prescription for nembutal. Yet when her body was found in the early morning hours, all 50 pills were gone. Those who believed that she committed suicide have suggested that she simply swallowed all 50 of them. Yet, Noguchi failed to find any trace of drugs in her stomach or intestinal tract when he performed the autopsy. That means that Marilyn had to administer the pills – all 50 of them – rectally. Of course, she could have done this on her own, but if she was trying to kill herself it certainly seems more plausible that she would have just swallowed them with a glass of water. In other words, it seems very possible that someone helped her.

At least one neighbor claimed to have seen Greenson arrive at Marilyn’s house in the early evening with a man who looked like Bobby Kennedy. And if Kennedy was there, he probably came to warn Marilyn away from the family once and for all, and did so with Dr. Greenson’s help. That may have unhinged Marilyn completely, perhaps to the point of hurting herself. That, in turn, may have forced everyone out of the room so that Greenson could administer a sedative. There are accounts that Greenson then left and met up with the rest of the group for dinner at a nearby restaurant. And there are also accounts of Marilyn trying to make a number of frantic calls to Peter Lawford around the same time. In any case, the group apparently returned to her house a few hours later and that’s when she was found unconscious, or even perhaps dead. This may explain why an ambulance driver claimed to take her to the hospital and if a Kennedy really was present, why her body was returned to the house so that it could be “discovered” there.

Regardless, in spite of the hundreds of books written on the subject, no one has ever really been able to solve the mysteries surrounding Marilyn’s death. Part of this has to do with a very real, documented cover-up involving destroyed phone records, a missing diary, and invented alibis. In addition, in the intervening years, almost everyone involved with the case has died, including Peter Lawford, L.A. Police Chief William H. Parker, John F. Kennedy, and Robert Kennedy. In 1985, a Los Angeles grand jury was asked to re-examine Marilyn’s death, but they recommended against re-opening the still-controversial case – there was simply not enough hard evidence to suggest that she had been murdered. Even so, the question remains.

Could this be why Marilyn’s ghost is still rumored to linger in Tinseltown? Perhaps, but one has to wonder just how many places Marilyn’s spirit can haunt? Perhaps the most likely spot to find her ghost would be her former home in Brentwood. Rumor has it that her spirit has been encountered many times in the room where she died. The late Anna Nicole Smith lived in Marilyn’s former home for a time, and she claimed to frequently see and feel Marilyn’s spirit in the house.

One of the most famous locations where Marilyn’s ghost has been encountered has been at the Hollywood Roosevelt Hotel. A hotel employee named Suzanne Leonard was the first to encounter Marilyn’s spectral image in a mirror that was hanging in a hotel office, but she has not been the last. It was later learned that the hotel once hung in Marilyn’s favorite suite, which she often used when she wanted to escape from the pressures of her career. Apparently, Marilyn has been encountered in other ways at the hotel, too. Singer Nick Lachey told a friend in 2006 that he had entered an elevator in the hotel and was stunned to see a gorgeous blonde dressed in sexy 1950s-style evening wear. When he pressed the button for his floor and then turned around for a better look, the woman had vanished. Lachey was convinced that the phantom was Marilyn Monroe.

Marilyn’s ghost has also supposedly been seen at her crypt in the Westwood Village Memorial Park. This haunting is reportedly connected to DiMaggio’s weekly delivery of roses to her grave, which ended with the slugger’s death in 1999. Other admirers still leave flowers and other items at her grave today, but it is Joe’s roses that Marilyn’s specter allegedly waits for. A number of people claim that they have spotted her as a filmy cloud, hovering nearby as she waits for her roses to be delivered to her tomb.

Does her ghost still linger? Perhaps – or perhaps not. It’s true that there are many unanswered questions connected to her death, but it’s also possible that sightings of her ghost are merely wishful thinking on our parts because we just can’t seem to let Marilyn go. Will the troubled young woman ever really rest in peace? Probably not in the way that she deserves to.

From the book BLOODY HOLLYWOOD by Troy Taylor

FASTER THAN A SPEEDING BULLET??

The Unsolved Mystery of George Reeves

Superman died at 1:59 am on June 16, 1959. Not the comic book character, of course, but the man who personified the "real" Superman for an entire generation of television fans. George Reeves, it was discovered, was not faster than a speeding bullet after all. Even though the initial coroner’s report listed Reeves’ death as an "indicated suicide," after nearly five decades there are many who do not believe that he killed himself. The death of George Reeves remains one of Hollywood’s most compelling unsolved mysteries, combining rumors of murder, conspiracy, cover-ups – and a lingering ghost.

He was born George Keefer Brewer in Woolstock, Iowa, the son of Don Brewer and Helen Lescher, just five months into his parents’ marriage. The pair separated soon afterward, and Helen moved back home to Galesburg, Ill. A short time later, George’s mother moved to Pasadena, Calif., to stay with her sister and there, she met and married Frank Bessolo. In 1927, Frank adopted George as his son, and the boy took on his new stepfather's last name to become George Bessolo. Helen's marriage to Frank lasted 15 years and ended in divorce while George was away visiting relatives. Helen told George that Frank had committed suicide. It would not be until George joined the Army during World War II that he discovered a number of things that his mother had hidden from him. She had concealed his true birth date and the fact that Bessolo was still alive and that he was actually George’s stepfather, not his biological father. This information disturbed Reeves so much that he did not speak to her through most of the 1940s.

George Reeves

Growing up, George was an accomplished athlete and in 1932, entered the Golden Gloves boxing competition against his mother’s wishes. He did well in the event and went to the Olympics in L.A. in 1932. After having his nose broken nine times, he hung up his gloves and decided to pursue acting.  He had started acting and singing in high school and continued performing on stage as a student at Pasadena Junior College. Accepted by the Pasadena Playhouse, Reeves had prominent roles. His film career began in 1939, when he was cast as Stuart Tarleton, one of Vivien Leigh's suitors in “Gone with the Wind.” It was a minor role, but he and Fred Crane, both with brightly dyed red hair as "the Tarleton Twins," were in the film's opening scenes. He was contracted to Warner Brothers at the time, and the actor's professional name became "George Reeves." He married actress Ellanora Needles in 1940, but had no children with her during their nine-year marriage.

Reeves starred in a number of two-reel short subjects and appeared in several low budget pictures, including two with Ronald Reagan and three with James Cagney. Warner Brothers loaned him out to co-star with Merle Oberon in “Lydia,” a box-office failure. After his Warner Brothers contract expired, he signed on with Twentieth Century-Fox but was released after only a handful of films. He freelanced, appearing in five Hopalong Cassidy westerns before he was cast as Lieutenant John Summers, opposite Claudette Colbert, in “So Proudly We Hail!” The war drama for Paramount won him critical acclaim for the role and considerable publicity.

Reeves was drafted into the Army about 18 months after the Japanese attack on Pearl Harbor. In late 1943, he was transferred to the U.S. Army Air Forces (USAAF) and assigned to the Broadway show “Winged Victory,” produced by and for the USAAF. A long Broadway run followed, as well as a national tour and a movie version of the play. He was later transferred to the USAAF’s First Motion Picture Unit, where he made training films.

After the war ended, Reeves returned to Hollywood but many studios had slowed down their production schedules and others had shut down completely. He took work where he could find it, including in some outdoor thrillers with Ralph Byrd and a serial called “The Adventures of Sir Galahad.” These were low-budget films for which Reeves simply fit the rugged casting requirements and, with his retentive memory for dialogue, could do well under rushed production conditions. He also played against type with one villainous role as a gold hunter in a Johnny Weissmuller “Jungle Jim” film, which turned out to be a moderate success for a B-picture.

In the autumn of 1949, Reeves (whose divorce had recently become final) decided to move to New York. While there, he performed on several live television anthology programs, as well as on radio. Reeves returned to Hollywood in April 1951, specifically for a role in a Fritz Lang film, “Rancho Notorious.”

In June 1951, Reeves career permanently changed when he was offered the role of Superman in a television series. He was initially reluctant to take the role because, like many actors of his time, he considered television to be unimportant and believed that few would see his work. He worked for low pay, even as the star, and was only paid during the weeks of production. The half-hour films were shot on tight schedules of at least two shows every six days.

His career as Superman began with “Superman and the Mole Men,” a film that was designed to be a theatrical picture and the pilot for the television series. Immediately after it was completed, Reeves and the crew began production of the first season's episodes, shot over 13 weeks during the summer of 1951. The series began airing in 1952 and Reeves was astonished when he became a national celebrity in his role as newspaper reporter Clark Kent, who was really Superman. In 1957, the struggling ABC Network picked up the show for national broadcast, which gave him and the rest of the cast even greater visibility. His portrayal of the character became wildly popular and everywhere he went, children and adults alike clamored to meet him and obtain his autograph.

A publicity shot for the Superman series.

Reeves never resented doing personal appearances as Superman, especially since they paid money beyond his meager salary, and his affection for young fans was genuine. Reeves took his role model status seriously, avoiding cigarettes where children could see him, eventually quitting smoking altogether, and keeping his private life very discreet. But Reeves loved women and many who were close to him stated that he broke the hearts of many of the actresses that he worked with. In 1951, he had begun a romantic relationship with a married ex-showgirl, Toni Mannix, wife of MGM general manager Eddie Mannix. Some believe this affair may have cost Reeves his life.

Whether or not Reeves resented being typecast as Superman, he played the heroic role to the hilt, and sometimes not just on screen. With Toni Mannix, Reeves worked tirelessly to raise money to fight myasthenia gravis, a neuromuscular disease leading to fluctuating muscle weakness and fatigue. He served as national chairman for the Myasthenia Gravis Foundation in 1955. During the second season, Reeves appeared in a short film for the US Treasury Department, in which he caught some crooks and told kids why they should invest in government savings stamps.

The cast of “Superman” in a happy moment.

Jack Larson, who played Jimmy Olsen in the series, recalled that Reeves was always a gentleman to the other actors in the show, although he loved to play practical jokes on the cast and crew. He insisted that the original Lois Lane, Phyllis Coates, be given equal billing in the credits in the first season. When Coates was replaced by Noel Neill, Reeves quietly defended her nervousness on her first day when he felt that the director was being too harsh with her. He also stood by Robert Shayne (who played Police Inspector William "Bill" Henderson) when Shayne was subpoenaed by FBI agents on the set of Superman. Shayne's political activism in the Screen Actors Guild in the 1940s was used by his bitter ex-wife as an excuse to lie and say that he was a member of the Communist Party. On the other hand, Reeves delighted in standing outside camera range, making faces at the other cast members to see whether he could break them up. By all accounts, there was a strong camaraderie among the principal actors.

After two seasons, though, Reeves began to get tired of both the Superman role and the low salary he was receiving. He was now 40 and he wanted to move on with his career. He established his own production company and conceived a television adventure series called “Port of Entry,” which would be filmed on location in Hawaii and Mexico. He wrote the pilot script himself and prepared to start pre-production work when the producers of “Superman” offered him a large salary increase. Not wanting to turn it down, he returned to the role.

In 1957, there was talk of producing a new theatrical Superman film and possibly discontinuing the series, but this never happened. Instead, another season of the show was developed. By mid-1959, contracts were signed, costumes re-fitted, and new scripts were assigned to the writers. Noel Neill was quoted as saying that the cast was ready to do a new season of the still-popular show. Producers reportedly promised Reeves that the new programs would be as serious and action-packed as the first season, guaranteed him creative input, and slated him to direct several of the new shows, as he had the final three episodes of the 1957 season.

In between the first and second seasons of “Superman,” Reeves got sporadic acting assignments on television and in two feature films, “Forever Female” and “The Blue Gardenia.” But by the time the series was airing nationwide, Reeves found himself so associated with Superman and Clark Kent that it was difficult for him to find other roles. He also sang on the “Tony Bennett Show” in August 1956 and appeared in an episode of “I Love Lucy” as Superman. His good friend Bill Walsh, a producer at Disney Studios, gave Reeves a prominent role in “Westward Ho the Wagons,” in which Reeves wore a beard and mustache. It was to be his final feature film appearance.

In spite of his sporadic film and television work, and Superman appearances, Reeves was not doing well financially. In 1958, he broke off his affair with Toni Mannix and announced his engagement to society girl, Leonore Lemmon.  He complained to friends, columnists, and his mother of his financial problems. The royalties that he was receiving from the syndication of “Superman” were insubstantial, especially in view of his lifestyle. Apparently, the planned new season of the show, as well as his appearances were a much-needed lifeline. Reeves needed money and the only option that he had to make any was by portraying Superman, which he reluctantly agreed to do.

Just three days after his death, he was to have returned to the boxing ring with light heavyweight champion Archie Moore. The exhibition match was to be played on television so that viewers across the country could tune in to see Superman beat the champ. Reeves told reporters, “the Archie Moore fight will be the highlight of my life.”

After the fight, he and Leonore were to be married. They planned to honeymoon in Spain and then go to Australia for six weeks, where Reeves would pick up over $20,000 for appearances as Superman. The series had just been sold to an Australian television network and local viewers were clamoring to meet the “Man of Steel.”

Reeves would then return to Hollywood later in the year to star in a feature film that he was putting together, which he would also direct. He was then scheduled to shoot new episodes of “Superman” and receive another hefty salary increase. Things seemed to being going well for Reeves, even while being stuck playing Superman, and some said that he seemed to have everything to live for.

But all was not perfect in his life. In the three months before his death, Reeves was involved in three mysterious automobile mishaps that almost cost him his life. The first time, his car was nearly crushed by two trucks on the freeway. Another time, a speeding car nearly killed him, but he survived thanks to his quick, athletic reflexes. The third time, Reeves’ brakes failed on a narrow, twisting road. All of the brake fluid, it was discovered, was gone from the hydraulic system, in spite of the fact that an examination by a mechanic found the system was in perfect working order.

In the three months before his death, Reeves was involved in three mysterious automobile mishaps. He refused to believe that anyone had tampered with his car, even though a mechanic believed that someone had drained his brake lines.

"When the mechanic suggested that someone had pumped out the fluid, George dismissed the notion," said Arthur Weissman, Reeves’ best friend and business manager. Weissman always remained convinced that his friend had been murdered. He tried to convince Reeves that he needed to be careful, but Reeves brushed off the warnings.

About a month later, he began to receive death threats on his unlisted telephone line. Most of them came late at night and there were sometimes 20 or more each day. Often, the anonymous caller would simply hang up when Reeves answered. They said nothing, but after a few graphic and detailed threats, Reeves knew it was the same person. Nervous after the near misses in his car, Reeves filed a report with the Beverly Hills Police Department and a complaint with the L.A. District Attorney’s Office. He even went so far as to suggest a suspect, his former lover, Toni Mannix.

It was never explained why Reeves openly pointed the finger at Toni Mannix. Their relationship had never been a public one but it was a badly kept secret in Hollywood. Eddie Mannix was likely aware of the situation and didn’t like it. According to Reeves’ friend Arthur Weissman, Mannix was a disliked, but feared, member of the Hollywood movie industry. Weissman believed that the executive was responsible not only for the threats that Reeves received, but also for the attempts on his life.

The D.A.’s office investigated the complaint filed by Reeves, including his accusations of Toni Mannix’s involvement, but soon discovered that both Reeves and Toni were receiving telephone threats and crank calls. When that was disclosed, many people assumed that it was Eddie Mannix who had instigated the calls through employees or hired thugs.

Weissman believed that Mannix was behind Reeve’s near-fatal auto crashes, as well. In the film and theater business, Mannix had access to a lot of people outside of the general public. For a price, these men could maneuver two trucks close together on the highway, or could drain the brake fluid from someone’s car. Furthermore, he was sure that Mannix also had access to someone who could arrange a murder, too.

George Reeves’ home in Benedict Canyon

On June 16, 1959, Lenore Lemmon served dinner at around 6:30 p.m. at Reeves’ Benedict Canyon home. She had prepared the meal for Reeves and guest Robert Condon, a writer who was there to do an article on Reeves and his upcoming bout with Archie Moore. After dinner, they settled down in the living room to watch television. Around midnight, everyone went to bed. Around 1 a.m., a friend named Carol Von Ronkel came by the house with another friend, William Bliss. Even though the house was the frequent scene of parties and entertaining, Reeves did not want guests after midnight. However, Von Ronkel and Bliss banged on the door until Leonore got up and let them in. George also came downstairs in his bathrobe and yelled at them for showing up so late. After blowing off steam, he stayed with the guests for a while, had a drink, and then retired upstairs again. When he left, Leonore turned to the others who were present and said something along the lines of, “Well, he’s sulking, he’ll probably go up to his room and shoot himself.”

The houseguests later heard a single gunshot. Bliss ran into the master bedroom and found George Reeves dead, lying across his bed, naked and face-up, his feet on the floor. This position has been attributed to Reeves sitting on the edge of the bed when he shot himself, after which his body fell back on the bed and the 9mm Luger pistol fell between his feet.

Superman was dead.

The Beverly Hills police report of the incident states that, while entertaining his fiancée and three others in his home, Reeves suddenly, without any explanation, left the room and impulsively committed suicide. The statements made to the police and the press by those at the house that night essentially agree. Quite some time passed before the police were summoned to the scene, although neither Leonore nor the other witnesses made any explanation for the delay. They claimed that the shock of the death, the lateness of the house, and their intoxication caused the delay – they had nothing to hide. Detectives did say that all of the witnesses were extremely inebriated, and that their coherent stories were very difficult to obtain.

In the press, Leonore attributed Reeves's apparent suicide to depression caused by his "failed career" and inability to find more work, which was clearly not the case. The witness statements and examination of the crime scene led to the conclusion that the death was self-inflicted. A more extensive official inquiry concluded that the death was indeed suicide. Reeves's will bequeathed his entire estate to Toni Mannix, much to Lemmon's surprise and devastation.

Many people at the time, and many more in later years, have refused to believe the idea that George Reeves would kill himself. Even though he believed his friend was murdered, Arthur Weissman surprisingly did not dispute the sequence of events offered by Leonore Lemmon and the other witnesses. He said that this was just how it happened, but that Reeves did not intend to kill himself. He explained that Reeves was just playing his favorite morbid game, a practic with a gun that was loaded with a blank. According to Weissman, that was why Leonore said what she did. All of Reeves’ friends knew that when he was drinking, he would sometimes fire a blank at his head in a mock suicide attempt, making certain that his arm was far enough away so that he didn’t get powder burns on his face. Weissman claimed that, unknown to Reeves, the blank was replaced by a real bullet by someone hired by Eddie Mannix.

Reeves’ clandestine former girlfriend, Toni Mannix, was madly in love with him and according to Weissman, their relationship was an open Hollywood secret. It continued for years and then came to an end when George announced that he was marrying Leonore Lemmon. Friends said that Toni was "enraged" over this development and began bombarding Reeves with phone calls, making all sorts of threats. It was believed that both she and her husband, who was openly humiliated by Reeves over the affair, had the perfect opportunity to seek revenge, especially since Toni possessed a key to the Reeves house. The police never looked deeply into Weisman’s claims of the switched bullet, believing instead that Reeves’ death had been self-inflicted.

Among those who were unhappy with the findings of "indicated suicide" were Reeves’ mother, Helen Bessolo. She retained the Nick Harris Detectives of Los Angeles to look into the case. At that time, a man named Milo Speriglio was a novice investigator at the firm and played a small role in the investigation. "Nearly everyone in Hollywood has always been led to believe that George Reeves’ death was a suicide," he said in a later interview. "Not everyone believed it then, nor do they believe it now. I am one of those who does not." And neither did Helen Bessolo. She went to her grave in 1964 convinced that her son was murdered.

The Nick Harris Agency, which had been founded in Los Angeles before the FBI was even in existence, quickly came to believe that Reeves’ death had been a homicide. Even based on the fact that many of the witnesses that night were intoxicated and incoherent, the detectives felt that they could rule out suicide. Unfortunately, though, the Beverly Hills Police investigators chose to ignore their findings. A review of the facts seemed to indicate the agency’s suspicions were well founded. They also ruled out the idea of Reeves’ “suicide game” as his cause of death – they believed that someone else was in the house at the time he died.

For one thing, the absence of powder burns on Reeves’ face showed that he did not hold the gun to his head, as the police report stated. For the weapon to have not left any facial burns, it had to have been at least a foot and a half away from Reeves’ head, which is totally impractical in a suicide attempt. In addition, Reeves was discovered after his death on the bed, lying on his back. The single shell was found under his body. According to experts, self-inflicted gunshot wounds usually propel the victim forward and away from the expended bullet casing.

Speriglio made a careful examination of the police report and noticed that the bullet wound was described as "irregular." So, the agency reconstructed the bullet entry and exit. The slug had exited Reeves’ head and was found lodged in the ceiling. His head, at the moment of death, would have had to have been twisted, making a self-inflicted shot improbable. Speriglio suspected that an intruder had entered Reeves’ room and that the actor had found his gun. A struggle had followed and Reeves was shot. The intruder then escaped from the house unnoticed.

While interesting, this theory does not explain why the gun (normally loaded with blanks) had a bullet in it and how the intruder escaped from the house with other people inside.

Regardless of whether or not he killed himself, it was obvious that Reeves’ death was never properly investigated. Police investigators never even bothered to take fingerprints at the scene and people like Arthur Weissman believed they were pressured to make it an "open and shut" case. George Reeves, according to the official findings, had committed suicide. But did he really?

We will never know for sure. In 1961, Reeves’ body was exhumed and cremated, forever destroying whatever evidence was left behind. The death of George Reeves will always remain another unsolved Hollywood mystery.

Could this be why ghostly phenomena has been reported at the former Reeves house ever since his death? Many believe that the ghostly appearances by the actor lend credence to the idea that he was murdered. Over the years, occupants of the house have been plagued by not only the sound of a single gunshot that echoes in the darkness, but strange lights, and even the apparition of George Reeves.

After Reeves’ death, real estate agents attempted to sell the house to settle the actor’s estate. Unfortunately, though, they had trouble. Occupants would not stay long because they would report inexplicable noises in the upstairs bedroom where Reeves died. When they would go to investigate the sounds, they would find the room was not as they had left it. Often, the bedding would be torn off, clothing would be strewn about, and some reported the ominous odor of gunpowder in the air. One tenant also noticed that his German Shepherd would stand in the doorway of the room and bark furiously as though he could see something his owners could not. The phenomenon in the house was so widely witnessed that at one point, two L.A. County deputies were assigned to watch the place because neighbors had reported screams, gunshots, and lights going on and off in the empty house during the night.

New occupants moved out quickly, becoming completely unnerved after encountering Reeves’ ghost, decked out in his Superman costume! The first couple that spotted him was not the last to see him either. Many later residents also saw the ghost and one couple became so frightened that they moved out of the house that same night. Later, the ghost was even reported on the front lawn by neighboring residents.

In the 1980s, while the house was being used as a set for a television show, the ghost made another startling appearance. He was seen by several of the actors and crewmembers before abruptly vanishing, furthering the mysterious elements of this strange and complicated case.

What happened to George Reeves? We will never know for sure and his story is doomed to become another of Hollywood’s many unsolved mysteries.

From Troy’s book, BLOODY HOLLYWOOD

SUICIDE IN THE WINDY CITY

CHICAGOANS HAD FAVORITE SPOTS TO KILL THEMSELVES BEFORE 1920

The weird and macabre history of Chicago is filled with grim stories. From murderous gangsters, horrific disasters and unsolved mysteries to gruesome serial killers, it’s a city that has seen more than its share of blood over the years. The archives of old newspapers also tell other stories of death – suicides by Chicagoans both famous and unknown, which often occurred in places that you might least expect. This is the story of two such locations, one vanished and one that still exists today.

On June 29, 1879, a tailor by the name of Martin Arndt shot himself in the head with a revolver at the monument that had been built in honor of Stephen Douglas, the famous Illinois politician and friendly rival of Abraham Lincoln. He had committed suicide after losing his job earlier that day, leaving a wife and son behind. Arndt was an ordinary man, one of a million sad stories in the Windy City in 1879 but he was not the first man to commit suicide at the Douglas Monument – a place that had a troubled history of its own.

Stephen A. Douglas

The Douglas Monument was built in honor of Stephen A. Douglas, who died in Chicago in June 1861. Douglas was well-known for his recent Democratic presidential nomination, which he had lost to Lincoln the year before, as well as his previous 25 years in Illinois politics. During the last years of his life, Douglas and his wife had resided at Okenwald, their South Side estate. It was located just east of the present-day intersection of Cottage Grove Avenue and 35th Street. A cornerstone was laid for his monument and tomb on the property in 1866, but it would not be completed until 1881, largely thanks to the start of the Civil War and a long series of funding problems that continued for years.

The U.S. government took control of the property after Douglas’ death and constructed a military training camp on part of the property that had once been used as a fairgrounds. It was named in honor of Douglas. The camp enclosed about 80 acres, which were further divided by interior partitions to create compounds of various sizes. Each of the compounds, or squares, was named according to the purpose that it was used for.

Garrison Square, which was about 20 acres in size, was lined on all four sides by the officers' quarters and the enlisted men's barracks and had a flat parade ground in the center. Hospital Square was about 10 acres in size and served as a medical facility. Whiteoak Square, which was another 10 acres, originally served as the post's prison. When orders were received to prepare the camp for Confederate prisoners, Whiteoak was merged with portions of other squares, creating Prison Square, a compound of 20 acres.

In the early months of the war, the outpost trained thousands of Union troops under the command of General Joseph H. Tucker. Soon, however, the camp became a place of misery for the Confederate prisoners. The camp received its first prisoners in February 1862, after the Battle of Fort Donelson, and soon overcrowding, starvation, scurvy and a lack of medical attention made the place a living hell. The death toll for the camp during the last three years of the war has been estimated at as many as 6,129 men, which is slightly less than one-third of the entire prison population at the camp. Most perished from scurvy and smallpox, despite the best intentions of relief workers, who organized a fund to care for the men in 1862. The camp was soon dubbed “Eighty Acres of Hell.”

Confederate prisoners at Camp Douglas

The war ended in 1865 and it was closed down that summer. The remaining prisoners were asked to take a loyalty oath to the United States and were then set free. For a short time, the post was used as a rendezvous point for returning federal troops, but by fall, it was deserted.

After the war ended, a drive began to raise the funds to build a monument in Douglas’ honor on the former site of the camp. The corner stone was laid in 1866 with great fanfare, parades and appearances by practically every organized group in Chicago, from the police to Masonic organizations, aldermen and mayors from nearby cities, soldiers from various Illinois units, the Irish societies, the French society, temperance groups, trade unions, various religious groups, singing societies, butchers and just plain citizens. Speeches were given, flags were waved and pleas were made for donations. Money came in, but not enough. In the end, the planning committee lost over $1,300 planned for the monument.

Eighteen months passed with little public activity, but Douglas’ tomb was now ready to receive his remains. On June 3, 1868, the anniversary of Douglas’ death, the body was moved to the tomb. Tickets for the ceremony were sold at twenty-five cents each but the public was allowed two days to view well-preserved features of Douglas through the glass cover of the casket for free. After it was over, the newspapers reported that the monument committee planned to seek $50,000 from the state to complete the work on the structure. That amount was later reduced to $25,000 but delays kept the bill from being voted on.

More time passed. The newspapers waxed sarcastic that nothing more had been done. An article in the Post on May 9, 1870 indicated that the masonry on the unfinished monument had cracked because of freezing water. The fence around the site was falling down and the grounds had become shabby and overgrown. Plans began to be made to move the monument to Chicago University and Douglas’ widow sent letters pleading with the committee to do something or remove the monument.

But matters again dragged. On April 11, 1873 another attempt was made to get the legislature to pass the bill. It passed the House again, but was defeated by the Senate in the winter of 1874. Even bills to move the monument were defeated. Finally, in May 1877, the funding bill was passed and became effective on July 1. Robert T. Lincoln, Potter Palmer and Melville W. Fuller were appointed as a commission to complete the monument and in July, 1877 advertised for bids on the additional work on walls, sidewalks and limestone walls. It was finally completed in August 1881 – but not before becoming the scene of tragedy.

An old postcard of the Douglas Monument

On November 13, 1877, W.F. Coolbaugh, one of Chicago’s leading citizens and President of the Union National Bank, committed suicide at the entrance to the Douglas Monument by shooting himself in the head with a pistol. It seemed that when he left the bank that evening, Coolbaugh went directly to the spot where the tragedy occurred – “the tomb of a man whose political principles he revered,” the newspapers stated – and ended his life. There were no witnesses to the suicide, but his body was discovered early the next morning by a patrolman from the Cottage Grove Police Station. Coolbaugh was lying in a pool of blood and next to his body was a silver-plated pistol with his name engraved on it.

The policeman, knowing that attorney Melvin W. Fuller, whose home was nearby, was the son-in-law of Coolbaugh, hurried to the house and alerted Fuller as to what he had discovered. Fuller came immediately to the scene, found the body as described by the police officer and immediately had the corpse moved to Coolbaugh’s home at 120 Calumet Avenue.

As it turned out, a search had been carried out for Coolbaugh the night before. He had been in good spirits when he’d left home in the morning, had stayed away all day, dropping in just briefly later on, but had not returned for supper. When he did not come home that night, Fuller and the dead man’s son, James Coolbaugh, searching the city, calling at hotels and anywhere else that the older man might be found. There was no sign of him. They stayed out until 3:00 a.m. before going home. The discovery of the body was the first news that they had of his location.

Coolbaugh’s suicide was a bit of a mystery. He left no note behind and no clue as to why he had taken his own life. His health had been bad for several years, though, and his family knew that he had been prone to depression. He had recently returned from a short European tour and had been in better spirits but, as the newspapers noted, “he had undoubtedly become depressed and in a sudden mental aberration committed the deed which in his senses he would have recoiled in horror.”

His suicide was a shock to the entire city. Coolbaugh had established himself in Chicago 1862, but for many years had been a leading merchant and banker in Burlington, Iowa. He was a fiercely loyal Democrat and personal friend of Stephen A. Douglas. After moving to Chicago, he started the Coolbaugh & Co. bank, which later became the Union National Bank. He was happily married and had six children, but what drove him to his death remains unknown.

Less than two years later, on June 29, 1879, another man – of less social and financial stature – was driven to desperation and death on the same stone steps at the Douglas Monument. His name was Martin Arndt, a 53-year-old tailor, who also shot himself in the head. Unlike Coolbaugh, he had a clear reason for taking his own life, which he had expressed in a letter to his wife that arrived soon after he left the house.

Arndt had left for work on Thursday morning, as he did each day, carrying his lunch with him. But later on that evening, his wife received a letter in the mail, which had been written and posted that same day. In the letter, he explained that he had spoken to the bookkeeper at the company where he worked, Friddart and Sayers, and asked for a raise of a half-cent for each coat that he pressed. Not only was his request refused, but he was fired for asking. In desperation, he learned that his union provided not only provided death benefits for his family, but additional cash for suicides. He was, he learned, worth far more dead than alive. He begged his wife’s forgiveness and asked that, if she remarried, that she make sure that her new husband did not mistreat their son.

After leaving work, he went to the Douglas Monument and shot himself. Apparently, his first shot – fired just below his heart – was not fatal. He deliberately loaded the pistol again and fired this time into his head. His body was found the next morning and taken to his home at 1838 State Street, where he lived with his wife and son. It was a tragic end for a man who only wanted to provide for his family.

In time, the Douglas Monument apparently fell out of favor for those wishing to end their lives. A new location was discovered in 1892 when High Bridge was erected as a sight-seeing spot in Lincoln Park, on the city’s North Side. The bridge was built over a lagoon that was located next to Lake Shore Drive. The bridge became so infamous that by 1900, it was commonly referred to as “Suicide Bridge,” even on tourist postcards from Chicago.

High Bridge, a.k.a "Suicide Bridge" in Lincoln Park

The bridge became a favorite spot for suicides, almost from the time it was built. For instance, on December 8, 1897, a man named John Schwinen climbed onto the bridge and, in full view of about 100 children skating on the ice of the lagoon, jumped to his death. With a wild upward wave of his hands, he leapt far out into the air and fell head-first onto the ice. The newspapers stated that it was the fourth suicide from the bridge in three months. Several skaters were directly below Schwinen when he broke through the ice, but luckily all of them escaped plunging into the water with his body. When police officers reached the scene, nothing but the victim’s shoes were protruding above the water. Newspapers ironically noted that on the bottom of the shoes were the words “Warranted Waterproof.” Schwinen, 62, was a married man with 12 children, five of whom were married. He had recently lost his job as a house mover and it was believed that his worries about the future caused him to take his own life.

The bridge attracted not only suicides, but the strangest of Chicagoans as well. “Strange mortals used to frequent the place,” the newspapers stated in 1919, the year the bridge was finally taken down. One old woman used to come to the bridge every night with a bottle of whiskey and drink herself into a stupor. There was an old military man who lived at a soldier’s home in Milwaukee and he came to visit the bridge every time he got a furlough and would stand on the span and sing martial songs at the top of his voice. A young man used to come to the bridge almost every night and whistle at the moon in an eerie tone that sent shivers up the spines of police officers who patrolled the park. The bridge was almost like a magnet for the strange, weird and unusual.

The western side of Suicide Bridge in Winter

No one knows how many people ended their lives on the bridge before it was finally torn down. Some have estimated between 50 and 100. “The fall and spring were suicide seasons,” said Charles Shaw, the head of the park’s police force. He mused that the bridge had been a trysting place for those who had a rendezvous with death. Disappointed old men and girls who were crossed in love, despondent youths and all the lurid ladies from the street – all of them sought the mysteries of the beyond from its heights. One man hanged himself from the girders but all of the others chose to jump.

By the time the bridge was closed, it was in poor shape and there had not been a suicide attempt in more than a year. Lieutenant Charles Thoren told a reporter, “For several years it was a fad. There used to be as many as two suicides a week. About 20 years ago, it go so bad that the newspapers suggested covering the bridge with a screen, like a bird cage, and there was even some talk about closing to the public.”

“Suicide Bridge” is long gone now, but the stories remain of a place where only the most desperate people of Chicago went to seek solace from the despair of this world and a hope for a better life beyond.