My Little Shirtwait Fire - 101 Years - A Remembrance

"Yes, we're burning can you help us please?
Yes, we're begging, we're on bended knees
Oh, My Little Shirtwaist Fire."

It is March 25th again, one hundred one years have passed. Never forget the Triangle Shirtwaist Fire.

Isn't It Necromantic?

Just before valentine’s day in 1887 a man named Karl Tanzer was born in Germany.

He grew up to be an avid organist and tinkerer, coming up with many strange and unique inventions. He eventually moved to florida, married a woman named Doris and they had two daughters together.

In 1927 the Tanzer family vacationed in Germany. While there, Karl claimed to have visions and dreams of a long dead ancestor, Countess Anna Von Cosel, who revealed to Tanzer his soul mate – a raven haired, exotic beauty.

When the family returned to Florida, Karl abandoned his wife and children and reinvented himself in Key West. He renamed himself count Karl Von Cosel and claimed to have nine university degrees. He was somehow able to land a job as an x-ray techinician, mainly assisting doctors with tuberculosis patients.

Two years later, twenty one year old Elena Hoyos comes in for treatment – she is dying from tuberculosis. Von Cosel immediately recognizes her as the woman from his visions and his one true love.

Von Cosel passes himself off as a physician to Elena and her family, promising he can cure her. Desperate for help, they consent to a battery of treatments prescribed and administered by Von Cosel – shock therapy, radiation and potions he has invented contianing flecks of gold...all the while he is lavishing her with gifts of clothing and jewelry and persistent proposals of marriage, which in turn, are refused by Elena.

Alas, despite all Von Cosel’s hopes and efforts, Elena dies just a few days before Halloween in 1931.

Elena is buried traditionally, in a simple plot - but the thought of his beloved rotting in her grave is a torture to Von Cosel. He pleads to her family, who then allow him to fund the construction of an elaborate masoleum. Elena’s body is exhumed, placed in a metal coffin equipped with a formaldehyde spraying device he has concocted to halt the decay of the corpse.
It is also outfitted with a telephone which Von Cosel uses to speak to Elena on his nightly visits to her.

In his diary Von Cosel writes:
“I am so happy I am back with you, my darling. Very soon the hour approaches when I will take you home with me."

This night comes in 1933, when Von Cosel arrives at the masoleum with a wingless airplane he has invented – basically, a tube mounted on top of a toy wagon – to take Elena home where he can be reunited with is love, forever. However, to his horror, his home made formaldehyde device had failed and elena’s body was quite decayed. He took her home anyway.

There, he reconnects her bones using piano wire and after placing some old rags into her chest cavity, he begins a full reconstruction - using pieces of silk and morticians wax. He fashions a wig for her made from the remains of her hair that he collected and dresses her in a wedding gown.

His original plan was an attempt at resurrection, by sending Elena, in the wingless airplane which he has now christened “The Countess Elaine,” into space, where a powerful dose of radiation from the sun - he thinks - will surely bring her back to life.

That doesn’t happen.

For the next seven years Von Cosel vexes his neighbors with nightly organ jams, offends the nostrils of anyone who comes near him and spends a great deal of time and money procuring oils and perfumes to mask the stench of rotting corpse.

Word finally makes its way back to Elena’s sister, Nana, who decides to investigate the rumors herself. Poor Nana, discovers what remains of her beautiful, young sister lying in a wedding gown in Von Cosel’s bed.

The police are notified. Elena’s body is seized and moved to a funeral home and put on display where, for the next 3 days, approximately six thousand people came to view her.

Von Cosel is arrested for “illegally exhuming a body.” He is examined by a team of doctors who somehow deem him sane enough to stand trial – however, the statute of limitations has passed and the charge is dropped. Von Cosel suffers no penalties whatsoever. Well, no legal ones anyway.

Meanwhile, Elena’s family has taken possession of her corpse. Some reports say her remains were cut into small pieces and placed in an 18 inch box. She is buried in a secret location that only two of her relatives know of.

In 1952 police are called to a home. There, they discover Von Cosel lying on the ground with a life size effigy of Elena, wearing her death mask that he had created before she was initially buried, in his embrace. Von Cosel is dead.

His diary is also found there – the last lines reading “….forever and ever, she is with me.”

Beans Are Banned For Christmas!

"I want a feast...I want a bean feast!" Veruca Salt


No doubt, American fans of Willy Wonka recall Veruca Salt's outgrageous demands and have asked themselves, what exactly is a bean feast?

The Bean Feast, like so many other Christmastime traditions had it's roots in ancient magic and spells.

Beans, which were considered to be heavily influenced by Saturn, played a large role in Saturnalia celebrations and various ancient mystery cults in ancient Rome. These traditions were carried to other countries and cultures around Europe throughout the centuries. Practices reached their height during the Medieval era on the 12th day of Christmas, Epiphany - January 6th. During rituals to recognize the coming reawakening of nature, "Erotic Bean Feasts" were held, where there was an abundance of drinking, partying and sexing. Beans were considered so erotic and so strong an aphrodisiac they were outlawed in some places during the seventeenth century:

"Bean soup had a reputation for being so erotic that it was forbidden in the convent of San Jeronimo in order to prevent conditions that might result in indecent arousal. But that order no longer stands, since the nuns gave up that habit." - Allende, 1988

In the book, Beans, A History, (yes, seriously), author Ken Albala relates how beans were regarded as just big troublemakers all around and that Aristotle himself spoke out frequently against The Evils Of Beans. Aristotle wrote that beans are just like testicles and that they are, a gateway to Hades. The proof? It is the only plant that has no joints.

It didn't help matters when Porphyry went around telling everyone about that time Pythagoras did that magic trick where he planted some beans in a pot and ninety days later they looked exactly like a ladies' downstairs mixup....which then transformed into a human head that was for sure someone's poor soul caught in transit.

There are so many crazy claims attached the the poor bean - such as, if you bite a bean and leave it in the sun it will smell exactly like the blood of a murdered person, (there's a difference?) Or the belief in it's magical powers of warding off ghosts - in some places around the time of the winter solstice the male head of household would emerge from the home, barefoot and toss beans around the house while repeating nine times, "Shades of my ancestors, depart," while they rest of the family banged on pots and pans and stomped on the ground. This was all done to protect the family from ghosts who were there to snatch the souls of the living. The beans were believed to hold souls and were thrown out as a decoy in hopes the soul hungry ghosts would be satisfied with the beans and leave the family alone.

The modern day bean feast has transformed quite a bit. Although plenty of drinking and revelry is a hallmark, the bean really only plays into the feast by way of being baked into a cake. A cake is made for the feast containing a single bean. Whoever in the party gets the piece of cake containing the bean is awarded the title of "Bean King" and must preside over the evenings festivities.

This painting by Jakob Jordaens created around 1645 shows a bean feast in full swing - note the exposed chesticle of one guest and the guy vomiting on the left. Clearly, the bean feat was a good time.

Diagnosis: Ouija Madness

Inhabitants of California town, El Cerrito were diagnosed by numerous physicians as having a case of "Ouija Madness," in March of 1920.

What started in an Italian colony and involving four families in separate households using Ouija boards and spread to a case of mass hysteria of an entire town and resulting in, well...a lot of nakedness. A fifteen year old girl, who with three other women and three men were committed to an insane asylum after stripping naked to better communicate with the spirits. This was followed by a police officer, sans uniform or any other clothing for that matter, running through a local bank and numerous instances of town wide orgies - kind of like The Wicker Man, just without the singing.

This is when ministers and physicians "declare war" against Ouija boards with warnings to the public and government officials that "The Ouija produces hysteria and sometimes insanity," say the physicians and the psychologists. "It is an instrument of evil," say the ministers.

El Cerrito residents were forced to be examined by a team of physicians to determine if they were either insane or possessed, while lawmakers enacted a ban on Ouija Board use and possession in the town.

The reputation of Ouija boards opening portals, allowing demons and evil spirits a foothold on us and our world has perhaps been misinterpreted and a far more disturbing possibility has emerged. Consider that perhaps the door that you keep locked in the dark recesses of yourself can be opened. That the worst of yourself - all the dark and depraved things that evoke fear and hate and shame that lurk within are released and it is you that is unleashed on the world...

The Devil's Weed

Colonists arrived on the shores of Jamestown Island in 1607. At first look, this was an ideal location. No native inhabitants, prefect visibility to watch for any Spanish ships approaching. A safe, insulated place. As we all know, looks are so often deceiving.

In reality, a lack of any vegetative sustenance, no wildlife for hunting, a filthy water supply and a voracious mosquito population made the island a very poor home, indeed. It was however, overrun with a particularly attractive weed, that sported pretty, trumpetlike flowers which some of the settlers took the chance with by adding them to their food and drink.

The weed took hold of them quickly causing convulsions, hallucinations and failure of their respiratory systems resulting in death.

Seventy years later when British soldiers arrived, descendants of the original settlers remembered their history well and placed the plant into the soldier's food. They did not die, but instead went mad - for eleven days. ."..the effect of which was a very pleasant comedy, for they turned natural fools upon it for several days: one would blow up a feather in the air; another would dart straws at it with much fury; and another, stark naked, was sitting up in a corner like a monkey, grinning and making mows [grimaces] at them; a fourth would fondly kiss and paw his companions, and sneer in their faces with a countenance more antic than any in a Dutch droll.

In this frantic condition they were confined, lest they should, in their folly, destroy themselves — though it was observed that all their actions were full of innocence and good nature. Indeed, they were not very cleanly; for they would have wallowed in their own excrements, if they had not been prevented. A thousand such simple tricks they played, and after eleven days returned themselves again, not remembering anything that had passed." - The History and Present State of Virginia, 1705

Medicinal Cannibalism

'The human body has been widely used as a therapeutic agent with the most popular treatments involving flesh, bone or blood."
- Dr. Sugg

Historic Houses Trust

Body of a woman in a print dress lying on the floor in front of a Singer treadle sewing machine. Probably late 1930s, early 1940s. Details unknown.

http://collection.hht.net.au/firsthhtpictures/fullRecordPicture.jsp?recnoListAttr=recnoList&recno=31297

The Triangle Shirtwaist Fire - March 25, 1911

On March 25th 1911, now a century ago, just one block north of Washington Square at the corner of Greene street and Waverly, Mrs. Lena Goldman was sweeping the sidewalk in front of her little restaurant – it would soon be time for the dinner rush.

Dr. Winterbottom, who lived nearby, looked out over the square to observe people running toward Washington place. Moments later with his medical bag in hand, he too joined the fray racing across the square.

Dominick Cardiane was pushing a wheelbarrow down Greene Street when he heard a sound like “a big puff” followed by the sound of breaking glass. The noises spook a horse, who rears up and proceeds to run down the street, the cart it was pulling bouncing wildly behind.

William Shepherd, a reporter for the United Press, was crossing over to Washington Place when he saw smoke pouring out of a window on the 8th floor of the Asch building. Shepherd was soon standing among many others on the street below.

They all saw what looked like a bundle of fabric from the garment factory come out of the window. “He’s trying to save the best cloth," remarked a man, thinking that the factory owners were tossing out their fabric in an attempt to save it.

Halfway down, the wind caught it and the bundle opened. It was not a bundle – it was a girl.



The Triangle Shirtwaist Factory, manufactured shirtwaists for ladies – located on the 8th and 9th floors of the Asch building the factory employed approximately 100 men who mainly filled supervisory positions and 500 women and young girls. The majority of the girls were immigrants. Pauline Newman, who came from Lithuania and worked at the factory stated, “It resembled a kindergarten: we were all youngsters. The day's work was supposed to end at six in the afternoon. But, during most of the year we youngsters worked overtime until 9 p.m. every night except Fridays and Saturdays. No, we did not get additional pay for overtime. I will never forget the sign which on Saturday afternoons was posted on the wall near the elevator stating -- "if you don't come in on Sunday you need not come in on Monday!"

They were the kind of employers who didn’t recognize anyone working for them as a human being. You were not allowed to sing. You were not allowed to talk to each other. They would sneak up behind you, and if you were found talking to your next colleague you were admonished. If you’d keep on, you’d be fired. If you went to the toilet, and you were there more than the forelady or foreman thought you should be, you were threatened to be laid off for a half a day, and sent home, and that meant, of course, no pay, you know? You were watched every minute of the day by the foreman, forelady."

The girls started work at 7:30 in the morning and were given a single half an hour for lunch. Another employee of the Triangle factory described their conditions as “unsanitary - that's the word that is generally used, but there ought to be a worse one used. Whenever we tear or damage any of the goods we sew on, or whenever it is found damaged after we are through with it, whether we have done it or not, we are charged for the piece and sometimes for a whole yard of the material.
At the beginning of every slow season, $2 is deducted from our salaries. We have never been able to find out what this is for.”

There was an area of the factory called “the children’s corner” which housed large cases that were were high and deep enough for the children to hide in, so that when a factory inspector came he found no violation of the child labor law, because he did not see any children at work, for they were all hidden in the cases and covered with shirt waists.

It had been a Saturday that day and most of the women and men employed at the Triangle Shirtwaist Factory had been kept working until just before 5 o’clock, by factory owners Max Blanck and Issac Harris. Just before quitting time, as the girls were gathering up their belongings to leave someone yelled “FIRE!”

Someone had carelessly discarded a still burning match or cigarette. With piles of fabric everywhere and completed shirtwaists hanging from lines just overhead, within a few short minutes the fire had turned into an inferno, flames and smoke pouring out of the 8th, 9th and 10th floors.

Since the building was considered fireproof there was only a single, flimsy fire escape, one working elevator and all the doors, which opened inward, were kept locked in an effort to prevent theft. All of the Triangle factory employees were subject to searches when they exited at the close of the work day.

The foreman and a number of the male employees did their best to douse the flames with the available water buckets, alas, it was to no avail.

A few were able to escape via the narrow stairwell. Some 200, including Blanck and Harris were able to get to safety by making their way up to the roof – a means of escape not widely known.

Heroic elevator operators were able to save some of the girls by making as many trips as they could before the elevator broke down. The picture of smoldering, terror stricken girls - crying, screaming, scratching would haunt them always.

When the elevator finally ceased operation a number of people tried to escape by sliding down the elevator cables but instead, fell to their deaths, while others simply jumped. Some 25 bodies were later recovered from the bottom of the elevator shaft – only two survived. It is believed that the dead bodies of their fellow co-workers cushioned their fall, allowing them to survive. On the final trip, elevator operator Joseph Zitto would later testify that he could hear the bodies falling, hitting the top of the car – then the blood and the coins from pockets and purses began to rain on them.

Outside, if you remember, was United Press reporter William Shepherd. It was through his eyes that most of the nation experienced the next eighteen minutes. Shepherd phoned in details while watching the horrific events unfold, while young Roy Howard telegraphed his story to the nation's newspapers.

Shepherd begins – “I saw every feature of the tragedy visible from outside the building. I learned a new sound--a more horrible sound than description can picture. It was the thud of a speeding, living body on a stone sidewalk.

I looked up-saw that there were scores of girls at the windows. The flames from the floor below were beating in their faces. There was a living picture in each window- screaming heads of girls waving their arms. We cried to them not to jump. We heard the siren of a fire engine in the distance. The other sirens sounded from several directions.”

However, when the fire trucks arrived their ladders only reached between the 6th and 7th floors and the water from the fire hoses not past the 7th floor.

They took out fire nets to catch the falling girls but their bodies only broke through the nets, crashing to the sidewalk.

Shepherd continues: “I looked up to see whether those above watched those who fell. I noticed that they did; they watched them every inch of the way down and probably heard the roaring thuds that we heard.
It seemed to me that the thuds were so loud that they might have been heard all over the city.

As I looked up I saw a love affair in the midst of all the horror. A young man helped a girl to the window sill. Then he held her out, deliberately away from the building and let her drop. He seemed cool and calculating. He held out a second girl the same way and let her drop. Then he held out a third girl who did not resist. They were as unresisting as if he were helping them onto a streetcar instead of into eternity. Undoubtedly he saw that a terrible death awaited them in the flames, and his was only a terrible chivalry.

Then came the love amid the flames. He brought another girl to the window. Those of us who were looking, saw her put her arms about him and kiss him. Then he held her out into space and dropped her. But quick as a flash he was on the window sill himself. I saw his face before they covered it. You could see in it that he was a real man. He had done his best.

We found out later that, in the room in which he stood, many girls were being burned to death by the flames and were screaming in an inferno of flame and heat. He chose the easiest way and was brave enough to even help the girl he loved to a quicker death, after she had given him a goodbye kiss. He leaped with an energy as if to arrive first in that mysterious land of eternity.

Up in the [ninth] floor girls were burning to death before our very eyes. They were jammed in the windows. No one was lucky enough to be able to jump, it seemed. But, one by one, the jams broke. Down came the bodies in a shower, burning, smoking-flaming bodies, with disheveled hair trailing upward. They had fought each other to die by jumping instead of by fire.”

Rescue efforts were happening all over –
Across the way at New York University’s Law School building several law students led by Charles Kremer and Elias Kanter tied two short ladders together so the factory workers could climb across to their building’s roof. Kremer went over to the 10th floor to look for survivors and found a single girl, her hair on fire, running toward him. He caught her in his arms where she fainted as he put out the fire with his hands. They were able to save some 150 men, women and girls that day. Shockingly, a number of law students reported witnessing men kicking, biting and beating the women and girls so they could escape to safety first.

Forewoman, Fannie Lansner was a calm presence, speaking both Yiddish and English to the girls who were huddled about her, all crying and screaming, Lansner guided some of them down the stairways and kept others waiting for the elevator Trip after trip the elevator made and Miss Lansner remained on the floor, and though several girls begged her to go with them down, Miss Lansner said she would be ‘all right,’ and told them to go out as quickly as possible. She would lose her life in the fire.

Dr. Ralph Fralick did want he could from the street, checking everyone he could after they struck the pavement, attempting to administer first aid or injections for pain when possible. He later told officials that he was not able to save anyone, but he felt he had helped a few young girls to pass with a bit less pain.

Three male cutters formed a human chain from the 8th floor window to an adjacent window next door. Some girls were able to cross over on the backs of the three men. But the men lost their balance and all three fell - to join the already growing number on the pavement.


Meanwhile, the girls kept jumping….

Five young women on the Greene street side embraced each other and jumped. Thay crashed right through the sidewalk and into the basement, their clothes and hair burning as they fell. Another group of girls grabbed onto an electric cable which could not hold them – it snapped and they all fell to the sidewalk below.

One girl jumped holding a fire bucket. Another one tossed her purse, her hat and then herself. Some jumped together, holding fast to one another, while others lept alone.

Broken, twisted bodies lay in heaps on the sidewalks and by now there were thousands of spectators behind the police lines unable to believe what they were witnessing.





The firemen were now able to enter the building with their hoses to extinguish the flames. The steel and concrete structure was undamaged -- for the Triangle Building itself did indeed prove to be fireproof. Firemen would later say that they found 19 bodies melted against the locked door. 25 were found huddled in death in the cloakroom trying to escape the flames, some with their hands covering their faces in death. Another group of girls was discovered in a small room and would not move to safety so in shock they were the rescuers had to beat them to safety.

As night began to fall, search lights were directed to the upper floors creating a chilling effect to the already grim sight. Using nets, the firemen lowered the bodies, out the window to the waiting police below. The nets were soon exhausted and blankets from the driver's seats the horses were used. The bodies were spread in a row on the east side of Greene Street, many of them in coffins. Only 65 coffins were available so the steamship, The Bronx, was sent to Blackwell's Island to bring down a supply of 200 additional coffins.

Throughout the night ambulances transported the dead bodies to Bellevue Morgue on 26th Street and to the adjoining pier on the East River.

A reporter from the new york times remarked – that the “remains of the dead, it is hardly possible to call them bodies because that would suggest something human, and there was nothing human about most of these, were being taken in a steady stream to the morgue for identification.

Police estimates of 200,000 people - family and friends as well as the curious entered the makeshift morgues to file past the coffins. Authorities were completely unprepared by the new horrors to come next – a growing number of victims loves ones became hysterical and suicidal and a makeshift hospital was created to attend to these poor people.

Unbelievable stories of anguish were shared by families – a mother identified her daughter by what remained of her hand stitched stocking; a girl was identified by a family ring burned into her flesh; a father who, after waiting in the line for five hours identified all three of his daughters and, grief stricken attempted suicide on the spot. A lady identified her fiancée by his ring. When she asked if a pocket watch had been found with his remains the watch was produced. When she opened it she gazed upon her very own portrait and became hysterical. Their engagement had taken place just the night before.




Then there was the nightmare for those who did survive - Rose Cohen having escaped the fire and made her way home said, "I couldn't stop crying for hours, for days. Afterwards, I used to dream I was falling from a window, screaming. I remember I would holler to my mother in the dark, waking everybody up, 'Mama! I just jumped out of a window!' Then I would start crying and I couldn't stop."

Isidore Wegodner escaped from the ninth floor, where he and his father had come to work four months earlier as sleeve setters. He was near an exit when he heard the first cry of fire and had no difficulties reaching the street. Unaware of the extent of the disaster, he had left his father behind. Only when he emerged into the body-littered street did he realize what was happening. The firemen stopped him when he tried to rush back into the building.

He raced home but his father was not there. He began to make his way back to the Asch building to find out where the morgue was located. He missed a train by seconds and stood on the platform breathing hard, watching another pull in on the opposite platform.

"I saw him come out of the train, my dear father who was a quiet man, a dignified man. He looked battered. His pants were torn and in places his flesh showed through. His hat was gone, his face was dirty and bloody. On top of it all he wore a fancy, clean jacket that someone had thrown around his shoulders because his shirt had been ripped off. He stood on the platform dazed and the people walked around him."

"I remember," says Isidore Wegodner, "how with my last strength I shouted to him, how I went tearing over the little bridge that connected the two platforms, how we fell into each other's arms and how the people stopped to look while sobbing he embraced me and kissed me."

An entire nation grieved over the 148 deaths, so easily preventable. Their collective outrage changed labor laws and to the adoption of fire safety measures. Many call it the day the New Deal was born.

The factory owners, Blanck and Harris were brought to trial and were found not guilty by a jury of their all male peers. They made some $60,000 off the tragedy. Some of the families rallied together and sued the pair, in the end they were compensated $75 a piece in exchange for their dear, loved ones.

Just two years later, Blanck was caught violating the fire codes – he had been locking the factory doors. He was fined $20.00.


The Asch Building is now The Brown Building and houses the science department at NYU – it is said to be haunted not only by the memories of that day but by the spirits of those who perished there.

People have frequently reported the smell of smoke lingering in the hallways as well as the odor of what can only be described as burning flesh. Doors which have just moments ago been locked are found unlocked. One wonders if spirits are trying to protect others from the horrific fate they suffered? Apparitions have been reported by some and out of the corner of people’s eyes they sometimes see something large fall past the windows. When they rush to the windows and look outward and downward, there is nothing there.

One story was related by a secretary who had worked in the building for a number of years. She had been working late one evening and as she walked out of the building she saw a young girl stagger past her, a dazed look on her face. The girl was dirty and her clothing seemed to be singed. The secretary called out to her but the girl turned the corner. Rounding the corner in an effort to help what she believed was an injured girl, the secretary found no one. The girl had vanished.

Rest in peace dear ones – you have not been forgotten, not even in the passing of a hundred years. Blessings on your way.

Of Dolls And Murder

The headline sums it up, really - "Heiress created perfect mini replicas of crime scenes." Frances Glessner Lee, a volunteer police officer with an honorary captain's rank, created 19 dollhouse rooms during the 1940's culled from real cases.



Corinne May Botz, "The Nutshell Studies"

Forensic report: On April 11, 1944, an aproned Robin Barnes is found dead in her kitchen, midcuisine. The gas jets on the stove are open, her rosy hue indicates carbon monoxide poisoning, and the doors to the kitchen are locked, barring escape for a murderer. But would a suicidal housewife take the time to bake a cake? And why is the ironing board tagged "50¢"? A beverage on the table and ice trays on the floor suggest that Mrs. Barnes could have had company.
- New York Times

Lee called her miniatures the Nutshell Studies of Unexplained Death, after a saying she had heard from detectives: "Convict the guilty, clear the innocent, and find the truth in a nutshell."

Of Dolls And Murder is a documentary that closely examines Lee's work and our fascination with murder.



http://www.ofdollsandmurder.com/

http://www.corinnebotz.com/Corinne_May_Botz/project_index.html

The Fox Sisters - Part II

Spiritualism was now at its height. With its guiding principals of equality of souls - regardless of gender, race, wealth or religion, it allowed these Victorian women a place to speak out – so what if they were in a trance? Women became influential, powerful and financially independent for the first time in America. In the Spring of 1854 the Spiritualist movement in America had grown so much that it received the attention of congress. Senators from Illinois and Massachusetts presented a petition requesting the appointment of a scientific commission to study spiritualist phenomena.

Meanwhile, the three Fox sisters were holding onto the foundations of their familial relationship by their fingertips. Leah distanced herself from her younger sisters to become a medium in her own right. Margaret fell deeply in love with famous Arctic explorer Dr. Elisha Kane, who held a deep disdain for the Spiritualist movement and forbid her to continue in it. She then became a Catholic. Kate married and moved away to England. She continued to conduct séances, but refused payment for them.

As the years went on Leah dug her heels into her celebrity and society and authored a book. Margaret’s beloved Dr. was lost on an expedition, and Kate’s husband died too, leaving both sisters devastated. They sought comfort in the other kind of spirits now, and often appeared drunk in public. Embarrassed by her now poor and drunken siblings, Leah began to make trouble for them, going so far as to even report Kate to child welfare services.

On October 21st 1888, a now 54 year old Margaret Fox was paid a large sum of money to take out the Spiritualist movement and her sister Leah with it. In front of an audience of 2,000 paying customers, including Kate, at the New York Academy Of Music, Margaret took the stage and delivered what has been referred to as the historic “Death Blow To Spiritualism.” As reported in the NY Times, she “seated herself and a committee of physicians called by Dr. Richmond from the audience who examined her to see that no deception was practiced.” She then proceeded to slip off one of her shoes, her feet covered in a plain, black stockings which then emitted a series of raps, loud enough to be heard by everyone.

Margaret further explained that as young girls the sisters had set out to frighten their mother, first thorough little knocks and noises but then by more creative means of tying a length of twine around an apple, allowing it to thump across the floor and ricochet off the walls and furniture. Margaret continued, saying “My sister Katie was the first to observe that by swishing her fingers she could produce certain noises with her knuckles and joints and the same effect could be made with her toes. Finding that we could make raps with our feet – first with one foot and then both – we practiced until we could do this easily when the room was dark. A great many people, when they hear the rapping imagine at once that spirits are touching them. It is a very common delusion.” Sounds are difficult to place in space and let’s face it, people will believe anything if they want to bad enough.

The critics took up the mantle of I told you so, others were disillusioned and the rest, refused to believe.

Just before she died Margaret Fox took it all back and recanted her confession – saying she did it for the money and that everything she and Kate did was indeed real and true.

In 1904, the Fox family’s house in Hydesville, where it all began, was being torn down. In one of the walls near Margaret and Kate’s bedroom the skeleton of a man was discovered along with a suitcase full of salesman samples and a family Bible, he appeared to have been murdered just a few years before the Fox family moved in.

The Fox Sisters - Part 1

The rappings and strange noises seemed to be completely mysterious in nature. It was especially unnerving to Mrs. Fox, who had moved into the little house in Hydesville, New York with her previously estranged husband and three children only weeks prior – it was the winter of 1848.

The rappings continued, with more frequency. First at night, then, spilling over into the waking hours, from the floor, the walls, the furniture – or anywhere the Fox girls happened to be.

14 year old Margaret and her sister, 11 year old Kate began to engage in a discourse...with the dead.

One night in March, Kate called out “Here Mr. Splitfoot, do as I do,” and knocked a number of times on the floor. Mr. Splitfoot obliged by responding with the same number of raps. It wasn’t long before the Fox’s had devised a method of communication with the “spirits.” And soon, a horrible story was revealed – that of a salesman who was murdered by having his throat cut with a knife then, buried in the cellar of the house.

Neighbors were invited in, people fishing at the nearby creek and all of them heard the same series of questions and answers. Many more came throughout the night, for word spread fast in the little town.

Mrs Fox composed an affidavit recounting the story of the rappings, saying: ” I am not a believer in haunted houses or supernatural appearances. I am very sorry that there has been so much excitement about it. It has been a great deal of trouble to us. It was our misfortune to live here at this time; but I am will and anxious that the truth should be known, and that a true statement be made. I cannot account for these noises; all that I know is that they have been heard repeatedly, as I have stated. I have heard this rapping again this morning, April 4th. My children also hear it.”

Mr. and Mrs Fox were frightened. They and the people who witnessed these rappings and exchanges were all convinced the Fox girls possessed an incredible power – they were also convinced there was a ghost in their house. So, Margaret and Kate were sent to live with their older sister, Leah, a 33 year old single mother who lived in Rochester, New York. Leah had just read The Divine Principles Of Nature – a book wherein the author claimed the dead were in daily contact with the living and predicted that someday the truth would be known to us through a living demonstration. Leah had just found her “living demonstration.”

Under Leah’s management, Margaret and Kate were soon in high demand to conduct séances. Once guests arrived they would seat themselves around a table, recite a prayer, sing a bit then, either Margaret or Kate would fall into a trance.


On November 14th, Rochester’s largest Hall, seating 400, was rented out. The local paper, the Daily Democrat, reported that those in attendance were in the best possible humor, ready to be entertained and watch Fox sisters be exposed for perpetrating a fraud. This was not the case and, in fact, the paper later reported that the “ghost” was indeed there.

There was some who refused to let it go and demanded an investigation. In result, Over the next few nights at the live demonstrations, the girls were subjected to being placed on glass, on pillows, their feet placed in shackles and probed by a subcommittee of ladies to search their bodies for concealed machinery. Of course, nothing even remotely suspicious was ever discovered. On the final night of performances a barrel of hot tar that had been hidden was discovered and removed, the non- believers lit fireworks inside and attempted to storm the stage – the Foxes were taken to safety by the police.

All this publicity ensured that theaters showcasing the Fox sisters were sold out. They began receiving invitations from some of New York’s most illustrious citizens to hold these – “conversations through the veil” for them. The girls were bone fide celebrities – there was even Fox Sisters merchandise! People would wait in line for hours for a chance to see these two young mediums. For a chance to hear something, anything from a loved one who had left them behind.

The Little Houses

The Cajun grave houses remain a cultural mystery. Relics from days when a community cared for their dead has been overshadowed by corporate care. Where once many little houses stood, sheltering the now long forgotten, there remain only three dating back to the early 1900's in Istre Cemetery in Louisiana.






There is doc about the houses, appropriately titled Little Houses. You can find a trailer for it on the website or check out a book that is a companion piece featuring the photographs used here by Gwen Aucoin.

Little Houses doc: http://www.thelittlehouses.com/

Grave House Legends book: http://gravehouselegends.com/

Gwen Aucoin, photographer: http://gwenaucoin.com/

Hometown Haunt - The History

See the old smoke rising 'round the bend,
I reckon that she knows she's gonna meet a friend,
Folks around these parts get the time o' day
From the Atchison, Topeka and the Santa Fe.


In 1900 a piece of property covering nearly four acres on the east side of Hollenbeck Park was purchased by the The Atchison, Topeka & Santa Fe Railway Company, to construct a full service hospital for their employees or anyone suffering an injury due to their railroad.

Boyle Heights was one of Los Angeles’ first suburbs, first being developed in the late 1870s, populated mainly by Russian, Jewish and Japanese immigrants. With the construction of a horse car line, a cable car line, and finally, electric street car lines, it became a desirable place to build large mansions, with fresh air and a great view of Los Angeles from the heights above the east bank of the Los Angeles River. The development of picturesque Hollenbeck Park with its lake made that area especially attractive.

In December of 1905 the beautiful new hospital was completed - built and equipped at an expense of $147,000.

"So complete and unique are the automatic features of the new hospital that it will not be strange if all who enter therein for treatment are healed automatically," announced a 1904 newspaper article.

From a newspaper article that appeared in 1916 - I suggest you read it carefully:

Making a most beautiful home for those who are sick and injured while in the service, with the privilege of a fine park to be enjoyed by convalescents. Amid such delightful surroundings, and with every care and attention by skilled hands, no wonder the occupants of the various wards cheerfully battle back to health and strength. In February, 1914, an annex to the hospital was completed. This contains a laundry in the basement, beautiful recreation rooms on the first floor and a dormitory on the second floor for the help. An exceptionally well appointed operating room, complete in every detail, is a feature of the Los Angeles Hospital, and the layout of the building, as to the location of the Wards, nurses' quarters, dining-room, etc. is excellent. One section of the building is devoted to Mexicans, who receive the same tender care as do their English speaking co-laborers. They have attractive quarters with a pleasing outlook, and there usually is a full quota around the table in their private dining-room.

Unbelieveable..and yet, not.

Near the hospital one spies a number of tents, heated, lighted and furnished for the comfort of those suffering from tuberculosis. And then we notice that the hospital has its own Jersey cows, a nice flock of chickens and a well cultivated gardens, so that patients may be assured of the freshest milk, butter, eggs, poultry and vegetables. Attached to the staff of the hospital association is a full corps of specialists in every line, which enables members to secure the very best medical and surgical skill without extra expense. This staff is selected from the most prominent physicians and surgeons in the City of Los Angeles


The hospital remained quite unchanged, save for a complete remodeling in 1937, until the advent of the postwar freeway building frenzy. The Santa Ana Freeway cut through the Heights above the Los Angeles River, while the Golden State Freeway cut right through Boyle Heights. Hollenbeck Park was no longer picturesque or peaceful and its lake was a place to dump corpses. It was, however, a great place for gangs to hang out and for people to shoot up drugs. Santa Fe Hospital Association members began to complain about having to go to the hospital on St. Louis Street. 1969, the Santa Fe Memorial Hospital Corporation was formed as a non-profit entity and purchased the hospital from the Santa Fe Coast Lines Hospital Association. It was about this time that the hospital got a name change - to Linda Vista Community Hospital.

An account from an employee who worked as a nurse in the mid to late 70’s stated that much of the main hospital was unused and had restricted access by this time. She said sometimes when it was slow she would coax a security guard to take her into these areas of the hospital and described them as resembling something out of a mad scientist, Boris Karloff movie. Filthy, aged and falling to ruins with tons of apothecary type jars containing bizarre samples and preserved body parts. She also said that during this era and into the 80’s the Mental Health Services building had been converted into temporary housing for families of long term stay patients.

Early on in the 80's the emergency room was shut down - contrary to rumors, mostly propagated by a popular TV show, Linda Vista did not get a lot of gang victims dying here for this reason, they were taken to another hospital. It is much more likely the most frequently seen patients here were from the massive nursing home facility, Hollenbeck Palms.

I found another unverified account from a gentleman who claimed to be the Associate Administrator of Linda Vista in the late 80's just prior to its closing. He said that, "...many of the deaths were caused by ineptness of the staff. I recall one instance when an elderly patient died between shifts and was just placed in a dirty linen closet until she turned very ripe and the smell made them take her out." Of course this is all heresay...for now. We have keys to the records room and will be looking for verification of this person's employment in the coming weeks.

Next up - The "Ghosts" Of Linda Vista

********

Please note - If you are researching this location I have a great deal of information that would be quite relevant, including photographs, that I have omitted from this entry. I have also made a documentary on the subject that regularly screens at Linda Vista. Feel free to contact me if you are interested. If you use any of my research, please, PLEASE credit - I am the Official Historian for Linda Vista - thank you.

Evil Children, Monsters and Ghosts - Oh My!

Just then a young boar came dashing by, and the huntsman stabbed it to death. He took out the lungs and liver and brought them to the queen as proof that the child was dead. The cook was ordered to boil them in salt, and the wicked woman ate them and thought that she had eaten Snow White’s lungs and liver.

Singing mice and poofy dresses are surprisingly absent in real fairy tales. Instead they are rife with monsters, deceit, cannibalism, murder. Real fairy tales belong to the horror genre.

*****

About four years ago I was aimlessly channel surfing. Of course, with hundreds of choices I couldn't find anything worth watching. I would often scan past the Korean channels, noting the curious titles of the programs - Mom's Dead Upset, The Coffee Prince, Pretty Lady Chit Chat, My Precious You. This day I finally settled on some program called Mom's Dead Upset and found it to be far better than anything on American television. So began my adoration of Korean tv.

Fast forward to the now. I'm not sure how I found it - maybe it was this trailer commercial on KBS or perhaps I just turned it on one day this past summer. Either way, Grudge: Revolt Of Gumiho mini-series, is currently consuming my life.



A traditional Korean fairy tale concerning a Gumiho, (or Kumiho) is the foundation for this historical drama. Propelling the story is the nine year old daughter of nobility, who is described as being cursed and suffers a "strange disease." The father is told the only cure to save his beloved child, Cho Ok, is to "... find the child born the same year, same month, same day." When this child turns ten years old, his daughter must eat the liver of the child in order to live.

Evil children, monsters, ghosts, zombies, cannibalism, possession - Grudge: Revolt Of Gumiho has it all , against a lush backdrop of period costumes, beautiful scenery, wonderful FX, an unforgettable soundtrack and some of the greatest acting I've ever seen anywhere.

This show and the horrific, yet achingly beautiful imagery depicted in Gumiho is something American tv or film would never touch, and even if we attempted it, it would not be done with so much depth and beauty. There are so many moments of visual horror in this series that will haunt me for years to come - not to mention the emotional horror evoked. I do not get emotional easily - there are only three film moments that can elicit tears from me, yet I was sobbing on my couch and clutching at poor Mr. Blackwood during more than one episode.

We were like children during our Gumiho viewing marathon yesterday, gasping and yelling out loud - jumping up on the couch and yelling "OHMYGOD!!!" - Mr. Blackwood says he can only compare it to Lost or Star Wars in it's epic storytelling style and I have to agree. We have two episodes left - I cannot bear for it to end.

Silent, Secret Deeds

With their solemn, mournful gait, their melancholy litters, their bat-winged, black hats flapping, their black masks, their sunken eyelids like the visionless sockets of skeletons, their long, shroud-like draperies concealing alike figures and faces, their black stockings, ascetic rosaries, and leather purses at their girdles, in short their entire paraphernalia of death and disease as they go noiselessly through the busy streets, the spectators making way for them and standing aside with hat in hand as they pass.

James Jackson Jarves for The New York Times - February 8, 1880


As penance for their sins or to fulfill a vow, the mysteriously shrouded figures—who belonged to the Brethren of the Misericordia—carried the sick to hospitals, buried the dead. The society was so secret that members hid their identities even from each other.



Photograph by G. G. Hubbard, circa 1910

The Spook House

About five years ago Mr. Blackwood and I sublet a little studio in a San Diego neighborhood so we could prep for Comic Con that year. I was delighted by our little section of the neighborhood which had row after row of lovely examples of Victorian-esque architecture. However, none were more compelling than the curious house on the corner.

It was another year before we learned the story behind what locals call "The Spook House."

Built in 1887 for Jesse Shepard, who described himself as "...a world famous, mystic, seer, inspirational musician, and authority on prophecies, visions and cosmic consciousness." Shepard supposedly had no musical training and could not read music. Yet, he was considered a master of improvisation and could reportedly , "...play any opera selected by the audience without music."

After traveling to Russia in the 1870's and becoming interested in spiritualism, he claimed to have been a silent co-founder of the Theosophical Society with Madame Blavatsky. It was then that he began his initial instructions in holding seances.

When Shepard took up residence in the house, named Villa Montezuma, he held fantastical seance performances in the house, summoning great composers like Chopin and Mozart and commanded them to play through him. He would then amaze the audience further by playing pieces and having other invisible, ghostly musicians play along, or to sing with a voice that sounded like an entire choir. Of course, the house has built into it all the tricks a performance medium of the era could want, complete with secret rooms and panels for the "ghostly" musicians to hide in.

These are rumors that San Diego's high society shunned Shepard, causing him to relocate to Europe and focus on his literary carer under the name Francis Grierson. He returned to San Diego in 1889 and arranged to play a final performance in The Villa Montezuma.Appropriately, Shepard's long-time companion and confidante, Lawrence Tonner, described this occasion.

It was Sunday evening... We had a number of people invited for a musical recital at our home — about thirty. A collection was to be taken up. Mr. Grierson had played a number of his marvelous instantaneous compositions on the piano and had given the company a talk on his experiences and impressions of France and Italy.

He turned to the instrument and announced that the next and last piece of the evening would be an Oriental improvisation, Egyptian in character.

The piece was long, and when it seemed to be finished he sat perfectly still as if resting after the ordeal of this tremendous composition. He often did that, but it lasted too long and I went up to him — he was gone!

His head was only slightly bent forward, as usual in playing, and his hands rested on the keys of the last chord he had touched.

There had not been the slightest warning. He had seemed in usual health...and he had been smiling and laughing with the company even a few moments before he passed away.

Jesse Shepard was dead at 79.

People now say a curse is laid upon the house and it's owners. It is no wonder after delving into the Villa Montezuma's history following the death of Shepard and beginning with his sale of the house to what would be the next owner, David Dare. Soon after purchasing the house, he was forced to flee town. His business partner apparently had committed suicide before he left town and Dare was accused of looting the firm. Dare sells the house for $30,000 to H. P. Palmerston who was unable to make the payments on it, and the house was foreclosed upon in 1893 and auctioned off for $18,000. The house then goes to Dr. George Calmus for the sum of $10,000. He goes bankrupt, and leaves town, deserting his wife and leaving her with two unpaid mortgages on the house.

Later, Villa Montezuma is taken full advantage of again by a Mrs. George Montgomery, who holds seances in the house. Then, incredibly, in the late 1940's a treasure seeker purchases the house, convinced there is buried treasure to be found within it's walls.

The last resident of the house is a married couple. He, an engineer and she, a retired silent film actress. The husband dies and the house falls into disrepair. His wife, so distraught by his death, begins standing on the street outside the house asking passers by where her husband is. She is even rumored to have occasionally carried a gun, threatening people in her attempts to find out where her husband is.

Of course, other odd tales are attached to the house. An unexplained fire burned the second floor in the mid 1980's. Passerby report hearing orchestral music at night, the ghost of a man who hung himself in a tower can be seen from outside, much to the wonderment of past gardeners nothing will grow on a certain portion of land near a corner of the house, and a six toed cat named Psyche has lived on the grounds for far longer than any regular cat's life span.

The house still stands, but sadly, the public is not allowed inside...for now. At the end of last year a good deal of money was allotted for renovations on the Villa Montezuma. Hopefully, the doors of this unusual house will reopen in the next few years.

http://www.villamontezuma.org/