Pennsylvania Oddities

Known as "Philadelphia's First Suburb", the neighborhood of Northern Liberties existed as a unique and independent city until 1854, when an Act of Consolidation passed by the state legislature made it a part of the City of Brotherly Love. By the time of its consolidation, Northern Liberties had earned a reputation as one of the most infamous red-light districts in the country, with streets were thronged with taverns, gambling parlors, cheap hotels and other establishments where patrons could easily procure female companionship for the right price.

At the time of the Civil War, one such house of ill repute could be found on a tiny thoroughfare known at St. John Street. The madam of the establishment was a 24-year-old woman by the name of Mary Ridey, who made headlines in 1864 after brutally murdering two brothers, Joseph and Isaac Sides, in barroom full of witnesses. Mary's murder trial became of a Philadelphia sensation, but, for years afterward, many wondered if justice had truly been served. This is the true story of Mary Ridey, one of Philadelphia's most notorious madams-- and murderers.

In February of 1884, the rural village of Rawlinsville in Martic Township, Lancaster County, experienced the most noteworthy event in its long history-- the mysterious murder of hotelkeeper Barney Short, whose body was found sprawled across the road with a gaping wound in the skull.

Evidence indicated that the killer, or killers, had crouched behind a roadside tree, waiting for Barney to pass by in his horse-drawn sleigh. But considering that nothing was removed from Barney's pockets, it seemed that the vicious crime was committed for one reason only-- to settle a personal score.

No one was ever convicted of the crime, and maybe that's why Barney made his displeasure known from beyond the grave. A neighbor purchased the sleigh Barney had been driving when he was killed, which he gladly loaned to any friend or neighbor in need of winter transportation. But they all returned the sleigh with the same complaint-- it seemed to be haunted.

Were it not for the famous Lizzie Borden murder trial taking place five hundred miles away in Fall River, Massachusetts, the story of the phantom train of Cambria County might have become well-known outside of Carrolltown.

This tiny borough sits twenty miles west of Altoona, and, in 1892, became a stop on the newly-formed Cambria & Clearfied Railroad. The focal point of this rail line was a tunnel constructed through Strittmatter Hill, just south of Carrolltown. And it was near this spot where one of the strangest unexplained events in Pennsylvania history took place.

The village of Dalmatia in Northumberland County is situated along the Susquehanna River, on land once owned by William Dunbar, an early settler who purchased the property from Thomas McKee in 1773. One enduring mystery of Dalmatia is how this inland village came to be named after a coastal region of Croatia, as early records indicate that no one of Croatian descent has ever lived there.

Another mystery involves the strange deaths of three young children in the home of Charles and Ora Matilda Zeigler. After Ora took her own life by setting her home on fire and shooting herself in 1931, it was whispered that she had murdered her grandchildren with poison, for reasons that are just as mysterious as the name of the village where the triple tragedy occurred.

First settled in the early 18th century, the quaint neighborhood of Shipoke is one of the most desirable in Harrisburg. However, for much of its history, Shipoke was regarded as a run-down, squalid place populated by Harrisburg's working poor.

One of the more run down locales was Indian Alley, and it was on this street where a house once stood that was rumored to be haunted. In fact, the home was so infested with spirits that the city ordered workmen to dig up the basement of the property in an attempt to unearth the source of the phantom sounds which terrorized the family living inside the home.

On August 3, 1907, a peaceful summer morning in Blooming Grove turned to horror with the accidental discovery of 75-year-old John Newman's body partially hidden behind a stone wall. Though no blood was found on his clothes, it was clear that he had not died of natural causes when a gaping wound was discovered beneath his shirt. So killed the elderly Pike County farmer, and why?

In June of 1908, the body of David Shilling, a 16-year-old office boy, was found hanging from a printing press at the newspaper offices of the Chambersburg People's Register. While evidence seemed to suggest suicide, there are many peculiar facts surrounding the incident which has led to speculation that the young man may have been murdered in a botched robbery attempt, or worse-- murdered by his own co-workers.

Note: Summer vacation! New episodes will return on September 1.

In July of 1863, a bloody battle fought near a small Pennsylvania town made the name Gettysburg famous throughout the world. But just forty-five years later, in July of 1908, tragedy would once again befall soldiers on the hallowed fields of Gettysburg. This time, the casualties would not fall by Confederate cannonballs or Union bayonets-- but by the hands of Mother Nature.

Located in Clinton County, Cherry Run, a tributary of Fishing Creek, is situated in a rugged, narrow valley between the small rural communities of Tylersville and Lamar. Today, a small clearing exists where Cherry Run intersects Narrow Road. On this spot once stood the two-room log home of a 34-year-old farmer named Isaiah Colby, his wife, Nora, and their two young children.

On August 8, 1887, Isaiah's mother and nephew came to visit. But when they neared the cabin, a ghastly sight met their gaze; on the grass lay the bodies of Isaiah and Nora Colby. It was apparent that Isaiah had died from a gunshot wound to the face, while Nora had been struck a violent blow to the back of the head. It was also evident that she had been sexually assaulted-- perhaps after her life was already extinct. But what was the motive behind the assailant's terrible actions? Greed? Or lust?

In March of 1932, a girl named Alice was born in Fayette County to Martha Harris, the unwed 27-year-old daughter of a prosperous farmer from Perryopolis. Years passed, but very little was seen of Alice. Neither Martha nor her father spoke of her, not even her brother mentioned her. It was almost as if the child had never existed.

Despite the secrecy surrounding the child, word of Alice's existence got out. On January 12, 1938, the Western Pennsylvania Humane Society sent officers to Perryopolis to investigate. Their visit to the Harris home left them mortified.

This is the shocking story of Alice Marie Harris, who was kept a prisoner in an upstairs storage room for five years, and the remarkable effort to rescue her from the depths of hell.