Robert Kever and William Lowman were walking together on Mississippi Street in Indianapolis around 10:00 the night of January 15, 1880. Without warning, a man jumped from behind a tree and plunged a butcher knife into Kever’s throat. The perpetrator was a butcher named Louis Antenat.“Aha, God damn you, I’ve got you now!” Shouted Antenat, and with one slash of the knife, he severed Kever’s carotid
Without La Delice Pastry Shop’s swinging 1960s store sign—a visual feast of blue and red, curlycue cursive, and capital letters—the southwest corner of Third Avenue and 27th Street would be just another stretch of Kips Bay. Though the sign looks very midcentury, La Delice (which translates from French as “the delight”) has actually been around […]
Soapy STAR notebookPage 15 - Original copy1883Courtesy of Geri Murphy(Click image to enlarge)
OAPY SMITH IN DENVER, WISCONSIN AND MINNESOTA.This is page 15, dated July-September 1883, the continuation of deciphering Soapy Smith's "star" notebook from the Geri Murphy's collection. A complete introduction to this notebook can be seen on page 1. These notebook pages
Fort McPherson, circa 1900Ghost lore is full of tales of spirits who are unhappy with the way their mortal remains were treated, so they make (generally unwelcome) appearances with the intention of setting things right. One of the more famous examples of such stories had an appropriate setting: the wild, desolate land of 19th century North-West Canada.Augustus Peers was a fur-trader who
Without La Delice Pastry Shop’s swinging 1960s store sign—a visual feast of blue and red, curlycue cursive, and capital letters—the southwest corner of Third Avenue and 27th Street would be just another stretch of Kips Bay. Though the sign looks very midcentury, La Delice (which translates from French as “the delight”) has actually been around […]
Included in yesterday’s trip to Fall River was a stop at Miss Lizzie’s Coffee shop and a visit to the cellar to see the scene of the tragic demise of the second Mrs. Lawdwick Borden and two of the three little children in 1848. I have been writing about this sad tale since 2010 and had made a previous trip to the cellar some years ago but was unable to get to the spot where the incident occured to get a clear photograph. The tale of Eliza Borden is a very sad, but not uncommon story of post partum depression with a heartrending end. You feel this as you stand in the dark space behind the chimney where Eliza ended her life with a straight razor after dropping 6 month old Holder and his 3 year old sister Eliza Ann into the cellar cistern. Over the years I have found other similar cases, often involving wells and cisterns, and drownings of children followed by suicides of the mothers. These photos show the chimney, cistern pipe, back wall, dirt and brick floor, original floorboards forming the cellar ceiling and what appears to be an original door. To be in the place where this happened is a sobering experience. My thanks to Joe Pereira for allowing us to see and record the place where this sad occurrence unfolded in 1848. R.I.P. Holder, Eliza and Eliza Ann Borden. Visit our Articles section above for more on this story. The coffee shop has won its suit to retain its name and has plans to expand into the shop next door and extend its menu in the near future.
Robert Kever and William Lowman were walking together on Mississippi Street in Indianapolis around 10:00 the night of January 15, 1880. Without warning, a man jumped from behind a tree and plunged a butcher knife into Kever’s throat. The perpetrator was a butcher named Louis Antenat.“Aha, God damn you, I’ve got you now!” Shouted Antenat, and with one slash of the knife, he severed Kever’s carotid
Fort McPherson, circa 1900Ghost lore is full of tales of spirits who are unhappy with the way their mortal remains were treated, so they make (generally unwelcome) appearances with the intention of setting things right. One of the more famous examples of such stories had an appropriate setting: the wild, desolate land of 19th century North-West Canada.Augustus Peers was a fur-trader who
Soapy STAR notebookPage 15 - Original copy1883Courtesy of Geri Murphy(Click image to enlarge)
OAPY SMITH IN DENVER, WISCONSIN AND MINNESOTA.This is page 15, dated July-September 1883, the continuation of deciphering Soapy Smith's "star" notebook from the Geri Murphy's collection. A complete introduction to this notebook can be seen on page 1. These notebook pages
How a too presumptuous shoe dealer’s attention to a female customer was resented by her male escort. [more]
What Happened to a Clerk who Tried a Pair of Shoes on a Girl.
A young man and a very pretty girl entered a shoe store in Chicago one afternoon last week. She was lately from a New England seacoast town, noted for its institutions of learning and intolerance of anything like impropriety. Her cheeks had still the color peculiar to Eastern girls. The clerk advanced briskly, and with his sweetest smile inquired her wants. She wanted a pair of high-button boots, and, having selected a pair to her liking, seated herself in a little place partitioned off for the purpose, to try them on. Her escort stood at a little distance, looking through the window into the street. The clerk was all attention. He sat down beside the girl, and proceeded to put on one of the boots. She looked a little astonished when he sat down beside her, and a moment later she uttered an exclamation of such unmistakable indignation that her escort sprang forward, and, seizing the clerk by the collar, kicked him clear across het room into a case of rubber shoes, which stood half empty.
“Take that you scoundrel,” cried the exasperated student from Yale, tossing a box of shoes on top of the clerk, “and see if you can’t wait on a lady without insulting her.”
The clerk, too much scared to move, lay doubled up in the box, when the proprietor came quickly forward.
“Call the patrol and have that man arrested,” cried the clerk feebly, as he saw his employer approaching. “He assaulted me; he’s a dangerous man.”
“Yes,” retorted the student, as he piled two more shoe boxes on the whimpering clerk, “call the patrol and have this bundle of garbage dumped into some vacant lot.”
The proprietor apologized to the young couple and assisting the humiliated clerk out of the shoebox, told him to put on his hat and leave the store.
Reprinted from the National Police Gazette, December 29, 1883.
"We follow vice and folly where a police officer dare not show his head, as the small, but intrepid weasel pursues vermin in paths which the licensed cat or dog cannot enter."
The Sunday Flash 1841