Bernhard-Georg Meitzel fought in the German Army during WWII, reaching the rank of SS-Obersturmführer. British forces captured Meitzel after the Normandy invasion, leading him to spend some months in an internment camp. After the war, while in Germany awaiting his “denazification” trial, Meitzel--who was fluent in English--wrote an eerie tale which appeared in the Winter 1949 issue of
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.
In the shadow of Yankee Stadium in the South Bronx stands the postwar-era Stadium hotel. And unlike the 2024 pennant-winning baseball team, this hotel building is in rough shape. It wasn’t always so rundown. Apparently in the early 1960s, with the Yankees dominating the league thanks to players like Mickey Mantle and Roger Maris, what […]
An article I recently wrote for the British online magazine, New Politic, is now available online. The article, “The Criminal Origins of the United States of America,†is about British convict transportation to America, which took place between the years 1718 and 1775, and is the subject of my book, Bound with an Iron Chain: […]
Rose Ambler said goodnight to her fiancé at the Raven Stream Bridge in Stratford, Connecticut on the night of September 2, 1883, and started walking home alone as she usually did. She was never again seen alive. Her body was found the next day, beaten and stabbed, and the perpetrator was never captured. Rose Ambler joined Mary Stannard and Jennie Cramer in the growing list of
Soapy STAR notebookPage 14 - Original copy1882Courtesy of Geri Murphy(Click image to enlarge)
OAPY SMITH IN CALIFORNIA♫ California's the place you outta to beSo he loaded up his grip and moved to Grass Valley ♪
This is page 14, dated 1882, 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
Youth With Executioner by Nuremberg native Albrecht Dürer … although it’s dated to 1493, which was during a period of several years when Dürer worked abroad. November 13 [1617]. Burnt alive here a miller of Manberna, who however was lately … Continue reading →
Atlantic City, New Jersey, 1886 - The mysterious female from New Orleans whose captive Brazilian beetle astonished and disgusted the hotel boarders. [more]
Wealthy and Mysterious
One of the most notable guests who spent the summer here and who has just departed, writes Atlantic City correspondent of the Philadelphia News, was a lady from New Orleans, who was conspicuous at the hops for her diamonds, her Skye terrier with a gold collar, and a black Machette beetle with a gold harness and chain. She was originally a guest at one of the fashionable down-town hotels, but she persisted in having the ugly beetle crawling around her at the table, and the more fastidious of the gusts broke out in open revolt and threatened to the management with abdication. She retired to a cottage, and spent her evenings as a lonely spectator at the hops of the uptown hotels. Her she would gather around her a crowd of curious folks, who would gaze with admiration at her wonderful Brazilian beetle chained to her bosom. The terrier was her only companion. Her purse was always filled, her diamonds always measured a peek, but she suggested mystery with all her wealth and appearance of wealth.
"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