This special episode features two new Pennsylvania Oddities stories, plus Episode 1 of my new short-form true crime podcast, 15 Minutes of Infamy.

Part I: The Psychiatrist's Fatal Folly

During the early history of Rockview State Penitentiary in Centre County, the homes of prison officials were tended by the most trusted and deserving inmates, who served as domestic servants. But things changed in 1932, after the daughter of a prison psychiatrist was stabbed by a "mentally deficient" convict named Fred Collins.

Part II: The Deathbed Confession of Hetty Good

In 1895, when a sweet old Mennonite woman found herself on death's doorstep, she made an astonishing claim with her dying breaths-- that she was one of the most ruthless killers Lancaster County had ever seen.

Part III: A Black Hearse Comes at Midnight

The Archer Home for Elderly People was a highly-specialized business. That is, it specialized in the quick and speedy extermination of its residents.

This is the shocking true story of Amy Archer Gilligan, the Connecticut nursing home owner who earned her fifteen minutes of infamy after a suspicious newspaper reporter noticed that a mysterious black hearse visited the home every midnight to spirit away the bodies of her victims.

During the early 20th century the portion of Avoca to the east of Interstate 81, near the Wilkes-Barre Scranton International Airport, was a mining community known as Brown's Patch. Like most mining patches among the anthracite fields of Pennsylvania, Brown's Patch was home to many struggling, impoverished families.

In the 1920s, one such family who called Brown's Patch home was the Castners, who occupied a small, one-story house on Dawson Street. It was inside this house where one of the most gruesome murders in the history of Luzerne County occurred.

In April of 1936, authorities initially believed that three-year-old Sonny Karmendi's death had been caused by a hit-and-run driver. But the truth soon brought to light one of the most shocking murders in the history of Blair County.

In Manheim Township, just north of the city of Lancaster, there flows a tiny stream which has its source near Roseville. This little brook, an unnamed tributary of Landis Run, is little more than a trickle, and although it flows for a distance of less than two miles from Roseville to Eden, there is a long and astonishing list of curious deaths associated with it-- a list that, to my knowledge, has no parallel in the Keystone State.

On June 15, 1934, the body of a missing four-year-old girl, Leah Minerva Dilley, was found after nearly two weeks of searching, in a spot more than three miles from her home-- under extremely bizarre circumstances.

Leah had died from cyanide poisoning resulting from a careless fumigator, before her body was transported to a field and burned in a bonfire, over which three unsuspecting children toasted marshmallows.

Around five o'clock on Saturday evening, March 7, 1953, a TV repairman was at work in his basement workshop, unaware that he was about to step into a nightmare more terrifying than any late-night horror flick that he or his customers had ever viewed on their television screen.

When Paul Schultz went upstairs in his home in Nazareth, his wife, Claire, asked him to go out and look for their two children, who hadn't been seen since two o'clock. The search for the Schultz children didn't take very long at all; Paul found his children partially submerged in the shallow, ice-crusted stream behind their home.

This month marks the 73rd anniversary of the unsolved murder of Gail and Paul Schultz, Jr., who were slain just two hundred yards away from their home-- in broad daylight on a Saturday afternoon.

Of all the missing persons cases in the history of the United States, few have made as indelible a mark as the 1938 disappearance of four-year-old Marjorie West. The mystery surrounding Marjorie's unexplained disappearance from a Mother's Day outing has been the subject of books, television shows and magazine articles. In fact, one British newspaper, The Guardian, has referred to the case one of the "great unsolved mysteries of the missing."

In 1826, the citizens of Lebanon were horrified to learn that a murder had taken place in their peaceful, idyllic community. In every household throughout the county the crime was discussed, while parents and preachers alike used the murder and the subsequent execution of the killer as a teaching device in order to illustrate the perils of intoxication and the evils of liquor. This is the story of the first execution in the history of Lebanon County.

For most of its history, Mechanics Grove was a quiet, unassuming community amid the rolling farmlands of Lancaster County. But things changed in 1935, when authorities went searching for a missing Maryland woman and uncovered a "hospital of horror" inside a farmhouse owned by a disreputable, drug-addicted physician known as as Doc Zimmerly.

For most of his 63 years on earth, Hugh Smith was a respected resident of Liberty Valley. Hugh owned 380 acres of land in Perry County, and he earned a handsome living renting out his lands to sawmill operators. And for 28 of those years, the respectable Hugh Smith may have carried with him the belief that he had gotten away with the perfect murder-- of a young "half-witted" woman known to locals as Crazy Lindy.