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One of Montgomery County's most perplexing unsolved mysteries is the 1932 death of Samuel Forti, whose battered body was found hanging in the washroom of the Werner Foundry in Lansdale, where he worked as a night watchman. At various times, authorities believed that Forti's death was the result of suicide, an attack by a burglar, revenge by a jealous lover, and-- perhaps strangest of all-- a shadowy religious cult.
A decade ago, the law enforcement community of Chester County wanted to pay tribute to a sheriff who was killed on his second day on the job in 1887. They chose to memorialize the long-forgotten sheriff, Benjamin Irey, with an 18-by-15-inch bronze plaque at the courthouse in West Chester. Usually, such ceremonies involve descendants of the fallen hero's family. But in the case of Benjamin Irey, county officials were unable to find any of his descendants-- and, for a very peculiar reason: The Irey family bloodline was obliterated by a baffling series of strange deaths.
The Moosic Mountains of Lackawanna County are just a stone's throw away from the urban centers of Scranton and Wilkes-Barre, yet they still contain dark, shadowy, seemingly impenetrable places steeped in mystery dating back to Indian times. However, one of the most fascinating mysteries doesn't date back to the early settler days, but to the early 20th century, when the coal mining industry reigned supreme. It is the mystery of a skeleton of an unknown man whose bones might be scattered anywhere except the spot they were first buried in 1906.
In the early hours of September 10, 1896, the sleepy town of Bloomsburg became the center of one of the most diabolical murder plots ever concocted by the human mind. Poison, dynamite and deadly microbes-- these were the tools used by Clifton Knorr, a disgruntled son of a wealthy businessman hired by prominent local lawyer Lloyd S. Wintersteen to eliminate his chief rival.
With its fieldstone construction reminiscent of a Medieval fortress, the William Penn Memorial Fire Tower is a Reading landmark that turns about as many heads as its Mt. Penn neighbor, the Pagoda. While both structures are unofficial historic symbols of Berks County's largest city, the fire tower has a particularly strange history-- a history marked by irony, tragedy and perhaps even an Indian curse.
Amid the sprawling wilderness of the Allegheny National Forest, miles from the nearest town, four roads converge in a remote spot in Howe Township, where a wooden cross marks the lonesome grave of a murder victim long forgotten. Although the name 'Turner' is etched into the weather-beaten memorial, most locals can't quite say who the unfortunate man was or when he died; all they can tell you is that it happened long, long ago.
In September of 1924, a shocking act of violence stunned the residents of Carlisle when a jealous man shot his sweetheart and her mother before turning the gun on himself in the back yard of the Dotter family home at 118 Elm Street. The ghastly act was said to have left such an impression that witnesses reported seeing the ghost of the killer near the scene of the crime just weeks after the tragedy... and, strangely, an eerily similar brush with death occurred inside the very same house six years later.
The tiny borough of Hawley, in Wayne County, was the scene of horror on March 4, 1904, when the body of an elderly widow was found drenched in a pool of blood on the floor of her candy shop on Marble Hill. Although a veteran of the Spanish-American War was later arrested and tried for the crime, the evidence against him was flimsy at best, and the suspect was eventually acquitted. To this day, the heinous murder remains unsolved, although many residents of Palmyra Township insisted that they knew who the real killer was-- a mentally unbalanced man who lived next door to the victim.
There is a statue in a Lancaster cemetery that is said to come alive at night and descend from her pedestal when the moon is just right. It is the statue marking the final resting place of Augusta Harriet Bitner, a young woman whose death in 1906 has spawned many rumors and ghost stories. But is there any truth to this local legend?
During the 19th century, one riverfront tavern served as the secret hideout for some of Pittsburgh's most dangerous criminals. There was Brocky McDonald, the bank robber who would eventually meet his demise at the hands of his own gang. There was Booby Adams, Blinky Morgan, Kid Munn, Patsy McGraw, Dutch Tony and an assortment of criminals whose exploits were known all over the country. There was also Joe Anderson, the bartender who operated his own crime syndicate when he wasn't pouring drinks for Oyster Paddy.
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