Pardon My l'Histoire...

Whenever history is being told, remember there is almost always a bias on behalf of the person(s) telling it. Often, parts are left out, justified by one party involved, or even told inaccurately; it takes a lot of research and work to uncover the complete history of anything. I was talking with someone yesterday about California; they made the offhand comment that the city of Hollywood doesn't have a long history. This is both true and false. As a populated city, it's just over 140 years old. When you ask any American about the history of a place, it rarely goes back any further than the earliest settlers from Europe. After the founding of the 13 original colonies, of course.

So who really counts as the first people in an area? What makes for historic events? How old is civilization in a location? Generally, these are more opinions than concrete ideas. Most of us know there were Native Americans living across the United States long before Europe even knew this land existed. But even beyond that, there are chunks of missing history left out of teachings about whole states. Even my own home state of Ohio has a far more interesting past than many of us know about.

Ohio was one of the first states beyond the original colonies to be carved out of the land back two hundred years ago. But what was it before then? You might be surprised by the answer. And had history gone very differently, we might be speaking an entirely different language.

If we go back a hundred years before the the Constitution existed, Europeans were already settling and conquering and claiming land across North America as their own. What would eventually become Ohio was part of the French colony of Louisiana (also called "New France" at certain times). Aside from the British colonies and Spanish Florida on the east (and New Mexico to the west), the rest of the land was claimed by France. This French part of Ohio history is completely ignored, but it doesn't end there. In the 18th century, Ohio was someone else's land as well.

In the decades before the Northwest Ordinance of 1787 (which almost made eastern Ohio into a state called Washington), the land owned by the French changed drastically. Spain acquired much of the western states and France split the land owned by England in half. Today, part of the section of New France stretching through the Great Lakes and St. Lawrence River all the way to the Atlantic Ocean still holds on to its heritage and early name: Quebec. Shortly before the British took possession of much of this land in 1763 through the Treaty of Paris, Ohio and parts of Pennsylvania and New York were part of Quebec. Forgotten by today's residents, a few clues remain behind. The city of Erie, Pennsylvania, still sits near Presque Isle (or presqu'île, the French word for peninsula); Ohio has towns named La Croft, Bellevue ("beautiful view"), Bellefontaine ("beautiful fountain"), Marseilles, and even Marietta (named for Marie Antoinette).

One thing is certain; the French had a better rapport with the native Indians than their British counterparts. Centers of trade and forts sprang up throughout Ohio. One French trading post was just down the road from where I live, where the Cuyahoga River meets Tinkers Creek. Another was to the south in Boston, Ohio, where early settlers found apple trees planted by the French in the 1600s. And when the British tried to take over land, the Indians tended to side with the French. After the US became independent, they sided with British Canada. This is part of the reason there was such animosity between early settlers and the natives. Indians allied themselves with the wrong side regularly. Their punishment would eventually be to live on tiny reservations, stricken with poverty and alcoholism.

While there's a lot of history we'd rather forget, there's no valid reason to deny the French past for Ohio and many other states. We seem so keen to remember the British and American portions of US history yet ignore all the rest. But this is why I love history; it's a fascinating, unending discovery full of myths and mysteries. There's always something new to learn, even about your native town.

Dead Women Tell No Tales... Or Do They?

It's been 13 years since one of Columbus' oldest landmarks met the wrecking ball in the name of progress. Built in 1834, the Ohio Penitentiary saw thousands of criminals pass through its doors. From Morgan's Raiders to the author O. Henry, many well-known people spent some time behind bars on Spring Street at this prison in its 150 years of operation. Today, it's the site of Nationwide Arena, a few random modern buildings, and plenty of parking spaces. But there might be a few leftover dead people lingering around.

People believed the old Ohio Penitentiary was haunted before it was demolished. Stories say that some of the 332 people who died during an arson blaze on April 21, 1930, still roamed the halls. Ghosts of many executed prisoners who breathed their final breaths inside the high stone walls were said to roam their old cell blocks and wander through the execution chamber. Though the building is gone, paranormal activity has still been reported at the site. If these prisoners really did stick around, perhaps one of them is the ghost of Ohio's first black woman to be executed. And it's quite likely she was a lesbian.

In the 1950s, sexuality was still a very taboo subject. Even newspapers, when faced with the task of telling tales of murder, often avoided the subject or (in certain cases) changing around the facts to make things sound, well, . . . less gay. That was certainly the case for Betty Butler.

By all accounts, Betty hailed from Cleveland, Ohio, where she had lived with her husband Harry, a strict Methodist, and two children. The exact reason why they couple separated is unclear, although court records indicate that Betty "associated with lesbians" in northeast Ohio. For one reason or another, Betty found herself in Cincinnati. She befriended a woman six years her senior by the name of Evelyn Clark. Some say they were lovers, while others say Betty was a woman caught up in poverty who had sex with Evelyn in exchange for money and shelter. Either way, their relationship was quite rocky. Arguments were frequent, and violence was not uncommon.

On September 6, 1952, the women were in a rowboat, joined by 42-year-old Deezie Ivory, enjoying the lake at Sharon Woods Park. A quarrel erupted between Betty and Evelyn; to escape the fight, Deezie quickly rowed to shore. There around 5:00 PM, the argument reached its peak. Betty strangled Evelyn, rendering her unconscious but still alive. In full view of the crowded park, Betty grabbed Evelyn by the ankles and held her head beneath the lake waters. "If I can't strangle her," she cried, "I'll drown her!" Leaving Evelyn partially submerged in the water, Betty nonchalantly said, "My work here is done," and walked away. She was stopped by park rangers before leaving the park; attempts to resuscitate Evelyn were unsuccessful.

Newspaper accounts varied when reporting the details. Some claimed the women argued over a man and it was a crime between "love rivals" while the Plain Dealer claimed it was a "sex revenge" murder. Jet Magazine made full mention of the "abnormal relationship", but seemed to waffle between Betty willingly becoming Evelyn's girlfriend and her being taken advantage of by a lesbian. In any case, it seemed the press was uncomfortable addressing the possibility that this was a legitimate same-sex relationship. They avoided the exact details of the crime as much as humanly possible.

Betty Butler was charged with first-degree murder and taken to jail. Her trial was swift; though Betty claimed it was self-defense "to escape [Evelyn's] perverted intentions" of keeping Betty as a "sex slave", she was found guilty and sentenced to death. She was sent to the reformatory in Marysville, Ohio, to await her execution. While in prison, Betty took up charcoal drawing and found she had a knack for art. "It's one of those things I didn't know I could do until too late," she said.

Her execution was delayed three times by appeals, but she met her fate on June 12, 1954 at the Ohio Penitentiary in Columbus. After a last meal of scrambled eggs with cheese, toast, and apricots, Betty went to the electric chair dressed in a pink and black dress with white bobby socks and white Oxford shoes. At 8:00 PM, still clutching her rosary (Betty had turned Catholic while in prison), the switch was thrown. She was pronounced dead at 8:10 PM. She was the last woman executed by the State of Ohio.

Women were housed in a building at the southeast corner of the prison, not too far from the "Death House" where the electric chair sat. Today, this spot is covered by McFerson Commons, better known as Arch Park (so named because of the stone arch found here, the only remnant left of the 1897 Union Station which once faced High Street before being demolished in 1979) at the corner of Spring Street and Street. Perhaps if you take an evening stroll in Arch Park, you can still catch a glimpse of Betty, or maybe she finally found peace and has moved on to a better place.

For more information on Betty Butler's story, read The Penalty is Death: U.S. Newspaper Coverage of Women's Executions by Marlin Shipman.

Paranormal Misdiscoveries...

There is a ton of absolutely mind-boggling ghost hunting out there. And even more, there is an unending wealth of erroneous history, bad investigating, and sheer stupidity. Most of the time, I just breeze by these things and roll my eyes. But yesterday, after watching a half hour video by Discovery Paranormal, I just couldn't bite my tongue any harder. It was begging me to pick it apart... and shed some truth on the reality behind the "Lehigh Valley Train Crash of 1911".

The video starts off with a walk down railroad tracks to the site of the accident, which occurred on August 25, 1911 on a trestle near Manchester, New York, spanning the Canandaigua Outlet. Three passenger cars plunged off the bridge when a faulty steel rail broke apart under the train (which was traveling at excessive speed). According to Michael Angley, the narrator for the show, they also investigated the nearby roundhouse which was "the last place the passengers were before the crash." We'll get back to that major mistake later, but first let's get to the bridge investigation.

It's obvious from the terrible audio that he's using the same full spectrum HD camcorder I have (and didn't feel the need to bother with an external microphone). Heading down the tracks, he says that the train "went down in the ravine," which is a partial truth. Three of the 14 excursion cars went down; that is all. The team's psychic Tammy sensed "it's like fear... it's like 'oh my god, we're going down' kind of feeling... people were scared; I hear children crying and... crash." Really. At a train crash site? But then, Michael goes on: "...back then, those trains they had no safety devices; you know, it was 1911. We're talking about... you're going down 40 feet in a wood and metal coffin; essentially, you're dead."

The first railroad safety improvements (beginning with air brakes) were made in the 1870s. He makes 1911 rail travel sound downright rustic. But if you look at photos of the crashed cars, you will see that they were a far cry from the old wooden cars heated by wood stoves used in the 19th Century. Very little has changed with passenger car design since that time. Today, if you plunge 40 feet off a bridge in an Amtrak car, the only safety feature you can brag about is emergency exit windows. That doesn't help when you're already dead. Michael went on, "...they used that shop back there as the temporary morgue." Actually, the makeshift morgue was in the basement of a country furniture store in nearby Shortsville, just south of the crash site. But I digress.

After many more obvious revelations from the "psychic", the team headed down the ravine to the bottom where the crash happened. And they brought their trusty dowsing rods. Thanks to the wonders of high definition filming, you can watch as the hands of the dowser rock back and forth ever so slightly, causing the rods to cross over and over. And they don't even wait for a question sometimes! While busy talking to a ghostly little girl, the group fails to address an important point: this train carried a number of Civil War veterans and their families returning from Rochester. The brooches worn by unidentified women from the wreck may have been mourning jewelry bearing the initials of dead soldiers. You would think the psychic would have at least picked up on that much, or that someone had bothered to actually read all the newspaper stories about the accident.

But the ghosts were far too busy trying to rush the intrepid ghost seekers to the more important destination: the roundhouse to the west. Ah yes, the roundhouse; that place where passengers wait to board trains. Oh, that's a station... nevermind. For those of you who don't know, a roundhouse is where locomotives are stored and repaired. There is absolutely no reason any passenger would be wandering a roundhouse unless he or she was an employee of the railroad. Still, the team decided this was the most likely spot to look for ghosts (instead of the makeshift morgue, that actually would make any sense whatsoever).

"...if a crash happened here, the victims--or the passengers--would go back to the place that they knew the most, which is the round house [sic]." Inside the old locomotive warehouse (I mean "passenger waiting area/place they turned around trains"), they bring out recorders to capture really vague nonsensical "voices" and sounds. Michael says, "the historian said that the train was still, uh... that the platform was probably still here." Once again, roundhouses did NOT have station platforms. Oops. Just then, the psychic says the first thing that actually makes sense: "...there's a man here... he's really, um, getting people to work..." Finally, something that talks about what the building was really used for--locomotive repair.

The dowsing rods come out yet again and questions fly while the rods swing back and forth a lot. You can really see the hand movements better here (around 15 minutes into the video) when he's asking how many ghosts are inside the building. And the questions keep getting better. "It was a grand building at one time, wasn't it? It was round all the way around?" Both get a 'yes' from the rods. (A roundhouse is commonly a half circle or smaller, otherwise there'd be no place for locomotives to enter. Only a few full circle roundhouses were ever constructed.) There's just one minor problem with this place. The round house was built in 1916, five years after the accident.

The psychic (and by now I use the term loosely) goes on to tell about sensing the passengers. "It's like they were anxious to see their relatives... and they were going on a trip and they couldn't wait to get there. They were almost there..." Thanks for that obvious report. "This is where they changed over, they got a little rest and something to eat..." (This town was NOT a stop for the speeding train in 1911.) Here they bring out "Pete's Ghost Box" to communicate with the spirits. Of course, when using a Ghost Box, you don't actually need to pay any attention to what words are coming out of it (as the team wisely shows us). Never mind that it sounds more like an Ovilus than a "Frank's Box" sweeping radio frequencies. In sure it's just coincidence and they really know what their equipment is called.

After reading off the list of the dead (and getting different answers from the dowsing rods; watch for the hand movements yet again), they announced they "found a bunch of spirits that have not moved on" at the roundhouse. Michael ends it with "Who knows when a train will ever come for them." If they're waiting in the roundhouse, my guess is probably never. And so ends a bafflingly unresearched investigation. Could it have been worse? Absolutely. But this is one video that makes me wonder why some people call themselves serious "paranormal investigators" who, as the website states, are "dedicated" to "collecting hard evidence of paranormal activity."

The Ghosts of Railroads Past...

In keeping with my last post, I've been thinking a lot more lately about how much I've enjoyed railroads over the years. They're still my favorite means of transportation, and it's quite sad seeing how rail travel has died out over the years. People might say that the automobile killed streetcars and passenger railroads, but that's not entirely true. They were still very popular when the transit systems were dismantled. It was mainly a change in public mindset brought on by billions of federal dollars spent to build national highways. In nearly every metropolitan city across the nation (and many small towns in between), it was possible just 60 years ago to get almost anywhere via interurban streetcars and trains.

Since the mid-1800s, railroads shaped and formed this land and our cities. The stories of Casey Jones and John Henry are forever remembered in their old folktales. And it's hard to travel anywhere without passing (or crossing over) an old railroad line, if you know where to look. Many of our towns sprang up from railroad lines snaking across the landscape. Sadly, many of them died out when the trains disappeared. In the Cuyahoga Valley alone, I can think of several towns that have disappeared off the map when the Cleveland Terminal & Valley Railway was sold and switched entirely to freight.

Slowly, I'm working on compiling together some of the thousands of old legends and myths associated with the railroads. Eventually, I'll be setting aside part of my website for them, but there's a lot to wade through before I get there. I find railroad ghost stories just as fascinating as the golden age of steam. Just in Ohio, there are dozens of ghosts associated with train wrecks and accidental deaths from the Ashtabula Train Disaster to the tragedy outside Republic, Ohio, or even the specter of Lincoln's Funeral Train. Even one of my first visits to a haunted place as a teenager was train related: the old depot in Galion, Ohio.

All of the hauntings I've heard have involved steam locomotives, oddly enough. I'm sure there are diesel engines behind hauntings out there somewhere, but I'm content to stick with steam. It's a dying technology; if we don't keep teaching generations about operating old steam engines, they'll become mystifying museum relics. Few people who are alive today can operate an old engine. They require skill and finesse you won't find in a simple diesel engine. Perhaps that's why when it comes to historic preservation, I think railroads are so important.

Interestingly enough, we owe much of the current railroad preservation efforts to two men: Lucius Beebe and Charles Clegg. They pioneered railroad pictorial books and started the California State Railroad Museum. Much of our history would be forgotten were it not for these two men. And what's even more interesting is they were a couple. Yes, railroad preservation owes a lot to two gay men. You can still see their private car the Virginia City (complete with its elegant interior that would make Liberace jealous) in California.

The Burning Truth of the Cuyahoga...

The story of Cleveland becoming the home of the "burning river" dated back some 40 years when, for the first time, pollution caused the Cuyahoga River to catch fire. Right? Well, one part of this is true. On June 22, 1969, an oil slick on the river did catch fire and subsequently caught the attention of national media. It also burned in 1950 and 1952. But that's just the tip of the iceberg.

"The fire was caused by the water. It flooded some place where was stored some gasoline and carried it down on top of the water to those stills above Wilson Av. to the right as we go in to Cleveland. The water got high enough to carry it in to their fires where it ignited and went down among the tanks below, and as they got hot they blew up and gave their contents to the flames. . . They put timbers across that big creek and threw wood, lumber and anything they found handiest above them into the water and so stopped the surface water and Oil from running down, but they had several acres of burning Oil above. It commenced burning Saturday and we could see the light still Monday morning."

The above account by Alexander Snow in a letter to his son, Fred, wasn't from 1969 or even the 1950s. This blaze touched off on Saturday, February 3, 1883. This was just one fire of the dozen or more on the Cuyahoga since 1868. During the late 19th Century, the river was “so flammable that if steamboat captains shoveled glowing coals overboard, the water erupted in flames” according to author Ron Chernow. Boats were to blame for several of the fires on the sludge-covered river.

Recorded incidents of the river in flames occurred in the following years: 1868, 1883, 1887, 1912, 1922, 1930, 1941, 1948, 1950, 1952, ad 1969. That's more than a century of stories of "the burning river." Yet we only seem to talk about the 1969 fire which led to stricter EPA regulations ad the Clean Water Act. Time and National Geographic magazines widely reported on the last Cuyahoga River fire, which helped it gain such notoriety. In recent time, it inspired "Burning River Pale Ale" made by the Great Lakes Brewing Company.

Rivers flowing through all major industrial cities have been polluted since the mid-1800s when manufacturing boomed. Over the years, the Cuyahoga hasn't been the only "burning river" in the United States. Dearborn, Michigan's Rouge River suffered from several fires. On June 8, 1926, a fire broke out in the Jones Falls area of Baltimore, Maryland, blowing manhole covers off sewer lines and sending a river of flames to the harbor.The Buffalo River burned in 1968 (and July 29, 1880) as did the Chicago River on April 18, 1899 (and many other times, including as recently as 2008) and Philly's Schuylkill River in the 1950s. For as log as mankind has been dumping flammable liquids into our waterways, we've been creating floating infernos.

To call the Cuyahoga the "Burning River" might be accurate, but it's a name synonymous with so many other rivers. Perhaps Cleveland can claim the title for the sheer number of fires on its river. Today, those of use who've been along the Cuyahoga River anywhere between Akron and Cleveland know full well that it's still polluted. Perhaps it won't flare up again, but the root-beer-float-style foam that churns up in some areas is enough to make most people think twice about fishing there. The "Crooked River" is aptly named on so many levels, but we can't say that 1969 was the only year to immortalize a city as the home of a watery inferno.

Most of the information on Cuyahoga River fires was taken from Jonathan Adler's 2003 article 'Fables of the Cuyahoga: Reconstructing a History of Environmental Protection' in the Fordham Environmental Law Journal, Vol. XIV, pages 89-146. The quote attributed to Alexander Snow was published in the book History of the Family of Benjamin Snow (1907; page 126).

The Never-Ending Forgotten History of the Valley...

After a lot of debate, I decided to bring back the Haunted Cuyahoga section of my website. Yes, a lot of my old research (and some rescued documents from Jaite Mill) were turned over to Jeri Holland of Cuyahoga Valley Paranormal about a year ago. I'm still leaving much of the valley's hauntings in her experienced hands. Still, there's so much I've wanted to write about... and so many corrections to make from the old information I had posted. Most of the old pages hadn't been updated since the time when I started looking for ghosts in the Cuyahoga Valley around 1999. Sadly, a lot of that information was total speculation; a lot of research over the years changed what is real from what is urban legend.

In September, Jeri's book Haunted Akron: Ghosts of the Rubber City will be published by The History Press. In it are a few stories from the valley in the southern part within Akron city limits. Since we both feel passionate about history and tossed tons of researched material back and forth over the last few months, we've both been excited by all the new discoveries in both bizarre local history and haunted places. There was the murder of a mixed-race man in a long-since-vanished town, a gruesome suicide at an old canal lock, and a haunted pond in Green Township. But when I scoured old maps and newspaper articles sent to me by Jeri and pinpointed the real location of the "haunted River Styx railroad bridge," you can't imagine how excited we both were.

And there's so much more to tell about; so much so that Jeri is already planning a second Haunted Akron book. At the same time, we're working together to get a early start on teaming up as co-authors for a book on ghosts in the Cuyahoga Valley tentatively planned for The History Press next year. I'm slowly adding some new discoveries to my site, though a lot of it will remain hidden until the book eventually is written and released (though I may share some stories at library talks before then). It's hard to keep all these stories to myself. I've always know that the Cuyahoga Valley has had some wild tales in its past; I ever expected the list to keep growing.

While not all stories involve ghosts directly, there are plenty of downright creepy sites to see. Along Riverview Road, I found the site of a fatal shooting by an "insane," drunken husband. Near a old canal lock, there are apple trees growing which are likely the offspring of trees planted by French traders in the 1600s. And, of course, one tale is a particular favorite of mine: the railroad station along the Valley Railway built on top of an old Irish cemetery! Yes, the bodies are still there... and I'm pretty sure that no one--not even the National Park Service--realizes it.

Hopefully before the heat of summer dies down, I'll have a chance to check out some of these places and (perhaps) have an investigation or two. This is the one thing I've missed the most: being the first person to look for ghosts in certain locations for many decades. Back when I started exploring the valley, it was like that. As some spots have become extremely popular, it took the fun and excitement out of investigating. I've never been crazy about going places that hundreds or thousands of would-be ghost busters trample to death. I like being unique, and in finding these new places that haven't been exhausted to death is the best way to do that.

The End is Nigh, Again...

"The present week is a time of great interest to the believers in the personal reign of Christ, and in the Second Advent as now near. This week, we believe, will conclude the 2,300 years from the going forth of the decree to restore and build Jerusalem, at which time the word of God has been given that the sanctuary shall be cleansed, and there shall be an end of indignation." - Horace Canfield

Sounds familiar, right? Well, perhaps. Some of you might know that May 21, 2011 is Judgement Day (or what you could call "Rapture Day"), according to followers of Howard Camping. Never mind that his 1994 prediction of the end of the world came and went; apparently, his math was wrong and Saturday is the real date. He purports that there will be a catastrophic earthquake in New Zealand (sorry, kiwis) that ripples across the globe causing mass destruction. The saved will go to Heaven, while the rest of us... well, you might as well stock up on marshmallows and ice.

There have been a lot of similar predictions throughout history. Entire religions, sects, and cults have formed over a belief in Armageddon. Which beings me to the above quote. It came from the American Democrat, an Akron, Ohio, newspaper, during the 1840s.

Between 1841 and 1846, a religious craze swept northeast Ohio. Millerism, or Second/Seventh-Day Adventism, was founded by a farmer and war veteran turned pastor named William Miller. While Miller wasn't what you might call educated, he was devoutly religious and read the Bible... well... religiously. You could say Miller was one of the first conspiracy theorists; he had an unhealthy obsession with hidden symbols and prophecies found in biblical texts. It was this work that helped him discover the day when the world would end: April 4, 1843.

It came and went. Luckily, he realized there was an error in calculation. The true date was April 23, 1844.

Again, nothing happened. Well, at least as far as the Rapture is concerned.

Plenty did happen, concerning the thousands of followers (called Millerites). Both times they prepared for the end of the world. Some went so far as to commit suicide. Even after the failed predictions, believers lost their minds. In November 1844, Ira Viets of Cuyahoga Falls chiseled off his own penis, taking the doctrine, "If thy member offends thee, cut it off" far to literally. The final blow (no pun intended) for Akron's Second Adventist movement came when their "Tabernacle" was blown to smithereens with a keg of gunpowder on December 23, 1845.

A few sex scandals over the next year and the Millerites fizzled out. Yet many other doomsday prophets would come between then and now. We seem to be a people obsessed with destruction (or fear-mongering). From Jonestown and the grape FlaVor-Aid® deaths of 1978 to the Apocalypse of 2012, we take the end of the world very seriously. Our fear of death and destruction brings about its own self-fulfilling prophecy.

Ralph Waldo Emerson once said, "Life is a journey, not a destination." Unfortunately, in our modern times, we've forgotten this almost entirely. We fear death and the end of the world. We rush from place to place without paying any attention to the trip in between. Life is all about the instant gratification; less cerebral, more limbic. Honestly, death can come at any moment of any day. Why spend life focusing on the end results when there's plenty of living to do? Whether your travels are short or long, enjoy what you have while you have it.

Weird World News...

It's time again to break from reality and take a peek at some of the more bizarre things that have happened in our world.

Three Cheesus Pizza...

The Holy Trinity might need to be re-written as dough, tomato sauce, and mozzarella. Last month in Brisbane, a pizza emerged from the oven at Posh Pizza bearing the likeness of Jesus.A fluke or miracle, the unlikely image quickly became the talk of the town. While many see Jesus, others see a variety of famous bearded men (including Viggo Mortensen and Christian Bale). ''It's open to interpretation as many of these crazy, out there things are,'' employee Maree Phelan, who made the pizza in question, told the Herald Sun. The store auctioned the vacuum-sealed pizza on Ebay, raising $153 ($164 US) for charity.

Your Plasma or Your Life!?

Aaron Homer, 24, was sentenced to three years of probation in an Arizona court last month for stabbing his roommate, Robert Maley. The incident occurred following an argument over sucking blood. Homer and his girlfriend Amanda Williamson initially claimed self-defense when police arrived following a report of gunfire at the apartment. The couple later admitted to stabbing 25-year-old Maley after he refused to let them suck his blood. Homer told police he became enraged when Maley made fun of the couple for being pagan and into "vampire stuff." (Police report available at Smoking Gun) Maley fled the scene, fearful of arrest on outstanding warrants.

Homo Erectus Flamboyantensis?

Have scientists found an early case of homosexuality? Here's what infoMania's Brian Safi has to say:

More News from Our Weird World...

It's been a while since I've posted anything, much less the stranger side of the news. Here are a few of the oddest stories I've encountered during my study break.

This Water is as Hot as...

Everywhere, people are trying to save money, especially in government. In Redditch, Worchestershire, the council discovered it can save £14,500 annually in pool heating costs for Abbey Stadium by using a greener (and creepier) heat source. Ongoing discussion revolves around the crematorium next door and the heat wasted from incinerators which could do the job quite nicely. "I'd much rather use the energy rather than just see it going out of the chimney and heating the sky," council leader Carole Gandy told the Guardian. "It will make absolutely no difference to the people who are using the crematorium for services."

Next Time, Remove the Price Tag...

Welsh asbestos remover Neil Simons was sentenced to five years in jail following a string of robbery attempts in Llandaff, Cardiff. Simons first robbed a gas station brandishing an ax and wearing a Halloween mask. . . which he purchased from the same station three days prior. A second robbery attempt nearby was interrupted by a customer. Simons, 30, told the court he felt shameful for his actions, becoming desperate to pay off a £20,000 debt (including money demanded from a drug dealer who had sold him cocaine). Public defender Kieron Malloy told Wales Online “The fact his son bought the mask then returned to the same petrol station wearing it, shows it wasn’t a sophisticated crime.” Here's the CCTV footage:


Getting High on Death...

White powder isn't always snow, flour, or even cocaine. Yet three robbers in Silver Springs Shores, Florida, saw a couple urns and thought they discovered the latter, so much so that they snorted what turned out to be the cremated remains of a man and two Great Danes. 19-year-olds Waldo Soroa and Jose David Diaz Marrero, along with Matrix Andaluz (18), stole electronics and jewelery from the home along with the remains of the owner's pets and father. Realizing their mistake and fearful of fingerprints, they tossed the urns into a nearby lake.

The Blood-Bound Gang...

If you're on Team Edward, it's no surprise that vampires are a sexy, popular topic. From The Vampire Chronicles to Twilight, the increased popularity of blood suckers has evolved into its own subculture, says Sociologist D. J. Williams. The Idaho State scholar (interviewed by Reuters) was consulted for a vampire documentary and has been researching this and similar alternative lifestyles for many years. The important aspect Williams points out is that self-identified vampires are largely misunderstood. (That in itself almost sounds a little emo.) People like Jeffrey Dahlmer give the community a bad name. "They see themselves as normal, regular people in normal regular jobs: they are teachers, lawyers, accountants, they may be parents," Williams told Reuters. "They have normal lives but there is this aspect to needing to take energy from time to time and in certain ways."

A Tale of Two Murderers...

A skull stolen from the allegedly-haunted Old Melbourne Gaol in the 1970s has surfaced again amid questions of its true identity. Originally said to be that of famed outlaw Ned Kelly who was hanged and buried at the gaol in 1880, others speculate that it could belong to murderer Frederick Bailey Deeming (alleged to be "Jack the Ripper") who was also hanged at the gaol 1892. The skull closely matched the death masks of both killers so researchers are pleading for descendants of Deeming to come forward and supply DNA for testing.

Ghouls Giving Back...

As most of you are probably aware, the weather in Queensland hasn't been very kind. Torrential rains have led to damaging floods costing the lives of many Australians. Yet there are people doing what they can to help out, however small the amount. And if you're in southern Australia for the weekend you can donate to a good cause while seeing a very real "ghost town."

January 22nd is "Queensland Flood Relief Day" for the Walhalla Ghost Tour. Walhalla is a small town high in the Australian Alps, a product of the Victorian Gold Rush during the late 1800s. The town boomed with the discovery of gold in the mountains but quickly dwindled back to its current population of around two dozen people. For a tiny rustic town perched precariously on sloping creeks, it might have just as many living inhabitants as ghosts.

The town's ghost tour takes visitors on a journey through the spooky, rugged streets by candlelight through old haunted residences and businesses and around a few of the many mines with dark and sinister stories to tell. From disappearing tools and horse apparitions visitors follow their guide to the town's cemetery to spy on its cursed grave. Tours start at the office for the Walhalla Chronicle and cost $20.

Here's a little taste of the town: a clip from an episode of Haunted Australia hosted by Melbourne's very own Drew Sinton: