"...we should pass over all biographies of 'the good and the great,' while we search carefully the slight records of wretches who died in prison, in Bedlam, or upon the gallows."
~Edgar Allan Poe

Friday, January 13, 2023

Weekend Link Dump

 

"The Witches' Cove," Follower of Jan Mandijn

It's a Friday the 13th Link Dump! Bring on the black cats!





East End entertainers of 1922.

Some vintage children's games that are, frankly, extremely creepy.

A 3,000 year old wishing well.

The man who became a verb.

Alexander the Great as horse whisperer.

Two prison warders find themselves up before the bench.

A previously-unknown ancient population.

The tomb archaeologists are scared to open.  Not without reason.

The death of a legendary tree.

Smallpox may have been around much earlier than we thought.

A case of murder during prayer.

A look at Europe's "bog bodies."

The coffin plate in the parlor.

The doctor and the Confederate General.

That time when John Wilkes was expelled from Parliament.

Lost medieval sword-fighting tricks.

We have finally learned why ancient Rome had such good concrete.

The rat graves of Washington, D.C.  I suppose there are a few one-liners in that statement, but let's not swing at the easy ones.

The world's youngest serial killer.  (And no one knows where he is now.  Lovely.)

The worst murderer of all time.

The origins of "y'all."

How to defeat the Mongols.

An artist at the Elizabethan court.

Born in India, destitute in Glasgow.  (Part 2 is here.)

The "world's best McDonald's" is not where you might think.

Death by piano playing.

A sculpture with quite a past.

The man who asked to go to prison.

Stalin's purge of the Red Army.

A brief history of street food sellers.

A brief history of Angel Island Immigration Station.

A mysterious amnesiac.

When our planet was "snowball Earth."

A misunderstood Roman Empress.

Ancient stone tools which may have been made by monkeys.

18th century wigmakers.

Life in a Victorian prison.

In which Victor Hugo meets Dom Pedro II.

Two silent movie star cats.

That's it for this week!  See you on Monday, when we'll look at a particularly sad missing-person case.  In the meantime, bring on the Celtic-Indian bagpipes!

Wednesday, January 11, 2023

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com



Accounts of mysterious "rains" of money are more common than you might think.  The following example comes from the "Stockport Advertiser," June 4, 1981:

They could be forgiven for thinking it's raining pennies from heaven down Reddish way. 

For cash has been literally falling from the sky on St Elisabeth’s Church — but the well-wisher is remaining strictly anonymous! And the more the rector, the Rev. Graham Marshall, finds more suddenly appears. 

Said Mr Marshall: "Apparently last Thursday evening while I was on holiday, a little girl was walking in the church grounds when a 50p piece dropped in front of her. 

“She thought it must have been thrown at her but couldn’t see anyone around. When she looked down she found several pounds' worth of coins lying there in the grass. 

“I came back on Saturday and a local shopkeeper rang me up and told me children had been spending large amounts of money on sweets. They told her it had just come out of the sky. 

“At that stage I went over to the church and there was quite a crowd of people there collecting coins that had just appeared on the ground. 

“While I was there another one appeared. One minute there was nothing there and the next thing there were more coins. 

“I like to think it’s a magpie or some other bird nesting in the roof which has decided it’s about time it paid some rent.” 

But Mr. Marshall (pictured left outside the church) has been on to the roof and there is not a bird’s nest in sight. 

He added: “It will probably turn out to be birds but at the moment I can’t explain it. Some of the coins are stuck so far in the ground that I’m beginning to wonder if they’ve come from down below the church!

 

This was the only story I found about the phenomenon, so I can't say how long the showers of coins lasted, or if the mystery of their appearance was ever solved.

Monday, January 9, 2023

The Ghost That Loved Bread: More Welsh Weirdness




The following poltergeist account is frustratingly brief and unresolved, but it’s such a delightfully quirky deviation from the usual pot-throwing, wall-banging polt that I thought it deserved a post.  It was written by Mary L. Lewes in the “Occult Review” for December 1912:

In the year 1907 the Rev. A. B. Clarke was Vicar of Llanarfon in Carmarthenshire. From a certain date in that year up to the time of Mr. Clarke leaving the parish on obtaining his new preferment in the next year, the following extraordinary circumstance repeatedly occurred: Whenever a loaf of bread was placed and left upon the table in any room, no matter what, of the vicarage house at Llanarfon, it was invariably found nibbled all round, when the room where it had been placed was again entered. This happened so often as to cause considerable annoyance to Mr. and Mrs. Clarke and the members of their household, and every possible attempt was made to discover who or what the marauder was.

Rats, mice, or even possibly a neurotic servant-maid were suspected; but the charge in each case was incapable of being sustained. More than once was a loaf placed upon the dining room table, the windows of the room shut and fastened, a chimneyboard placed in the fire-grate, the furniture moved out from the wall, the door locked from the outside, and both door and windows afterwards watched. And yet on entering the room the loaf was invariably found gnawed, and this even when, for the sake of experiment, it had been suspended from the ceiling by a string.

On one occasion a young man, with the approval of the master and mistress of the house, concealed himself in the dining-room, and the loaf was still found to have been nibbled, though the young man declared he had heard and seen nothing. However, he may possibly have fallen asleep and not cared to acknowledge he had done so. This unpleasant happening went on for more than twelve months, and several outside persons besides Mr. Clarke and his family are cognizant of it. It is not generally known whether it still occurs, the subject being, we understand, taboo by those interested in the benefice of Llanarfon.

Friday, January 6, 2023

Weekend Link Dump

 

"The Witches' Cove," Follower of Jan Mandijn

Strange Company HQ celebrates the first Link Dump of the New Year!



A mystery from 150 years ago.

Poe's best-selling work during his lifetime was a book about seashells.   Because it's a funny old world.

The sort of thing that happens when a widow asks her cheapskate boyfriend to deal with her late husband's ashes.  Suffice to say, D.H. Lawrence is probably not resting in peace.

The link between the meat trade and 18th century criminality.

How John the Baptist's head wound up in a French cathedral.

Evidence of early Ice Age writing.

The Philippine resistance movement in WWII.

A new theory about ancient Egyptian mummification.

HMS Phaeton and Beaufort's ruse: an escape at sea in 1795.

A tragic "message from the sea."

A heartbroken crow.

Some vintage "manly exercises."

A UK village that is visited by a lot of UFOs.

A weird vintage "diverting game."

A prolific Dutch serial killer.

How lasers are finding ancient civilizations.

The British Museum Bindery fire.

Superstitions just ain't what they used to be.

The policeman and the polar bear.

The Paris Expo of 1900.

The rarest mineral on Earth.

Catherine of Aragon as a diplomat.

The history of addressing someone as "man."

A "diabolical crime."

The sort of thing that happens when you buy a home with a very dark past.

That's all for this week!  See you on Monday, when we'll look at a quirky poltergeist account.  In the meantime, here's a fun blast from the musical past.

Wednesday, January 4, 2023

Newspaper Clipping of the Day

Via Newspapers.com



If you have a taste for the odder side of life, you have probably heard of the still-unexplained “Max Headroom” hijacking.  A similar, but less-remembered incident occurred in southern England ten years earlier, and a good time was definitely not had by all.  The Arlington Heights “Daily Herald,” December 12, 1977:

The Voice of Asteron has not been identified, as of this writing, making him the first UFV (Unidentified Flying Voice) in space-age history. Breaking in on a Southern Television evening news program with a series of bleeps, UFV announced to the world, or at least to the people in that part of England: 

“This is the voice of Asteron. I am an authorized representative of the intergalactic mission, and I have a message for the planet earth. We are beginning to enter the period of Aquarius, and there are many corrections which have to be made by earth people. 

“All your weapons of evil must be destroyed. You only have a short time to learn to live together in peace--or leave the galaxy.” 

A Southern Television spokesman, sounding rather like a TV critic, said of the impromptu substitute programming: “This is a pretty sick hoax.” 

The police found the Voice of Asteron guilty of disturbing the peace. A police spokesman complained: “Most people took it quite seriously, and some were frightened. We had to send a patrol car around to calm one elderly woman.” 

An average viewer named Rex Monger was invited to give his opinion on UFV. 

“The man seemed to suggest that he was speaking from a spacecraft traveling within the vicinity of earth,” Monger concluded. “He sounded pretty fed up with the way we are running things down here.” 

American hoax-veterans recalled Orson Welles’ “War of the Worlds” broadcast, which convinced a lot of radio listeners that New Jersey was being invaded by Martians back in 1938. Younger students of put-on thought the whole business--including the TV and police spokesmen and the man-in-the-street--bore a certain resemblance to a Monty Python script.

In all the excitement over what other people thought, nobody got around to asking: Who is the Voice of Asteron and what was he thinking? Here are a couple of guesses:

The Voice of Asteron is that awful earth-bound fellow--the practical joker. (The trouble with this theory is that if UFV was just out to scare folks, wouldn’t he have invented a more frightening request than “live together in peace,” and a more chilling punishment than “leave the galaxy”?)

The Voice of Asteron is an engineer with a lot of sophisticated equipment and an irresistible urge to test it. As the ultimate Good Buddy of the CB world, all he wanted to prove was that he could jam a network. The rest was fancy plot. 

The Voice of Asteron is a media freak--a man who has steeped himself in science fiction, seen “Network” one too many times and been carried away into staging his own events. 

The Voice of Asteron is a pacifist who has, in all earnestness, dramatized his message to attract the most attention, little realizing that his audience would pay attention to everything except what he actually said.

The voice of Asteron is a combination of all four of the above. 

In his short story “The Enormous Radio,” John Cheever imagined what it would be like if, out of one’s speaker, suddenly emerged the private conversations of apartment neighbors. Cheever’s fable gave off the curiously haunted sense of a universe out of kilter, though nothing that exceptional was said. It was the sheer unexpectedness, plus the disturbing confusion between the boundaries of public and private. The same might be said of the Voice of Asteron. One can imagine a network television commentator advocating more and bigger weapons--and causing no particular disturbance at all. The television set in the corner is the familiar monster, out of whose mouth come the most bizarre advertisements, the least credible plots, the cruelest images. Yet, if all the sponsors and staff announcers are in place, nobody blinks a fixated eye--except, of course, any aliens from outer space, who might well require a visit from their nearest intergalactic policeman to calm them down.

As was the case with the “Max Headroom” hoax, the identity of “Asteron” has never been discovered.

Monday, January 2, 2023

The Markley Mystery

"Chillicothe Gazette," January 6, 1996, via Newspapers.com



In 1995, John and Shelley Markley lived with their five children (aged between 8 and 15) in Bristolville, Ohio, where John worked as a truck driver.  The Markleys, who had been married 16 years, appeared to be an entirely normal, happy suburban middle-class couple.  However, in recent years the household saw its share of tragedies.  In 1993, their home was destroyed in a fire.  The following year, John’s father and one of his nephews both died.  (The latter was a suicide.)  In 1992, John’s twin sister Bonnie was diagnosed with breast cancer.  John and Bonnie were very close, and he did everything he could think of to help her, including raising $15,000 dollars so she could go to Mexico for some experimental treatments.  However, despite all John’s efforts and prayers, Bonnie died on December 13, 1995.  John was devastated by his loss, even saying he was “angry with God” for not sparing her.

On December 15--two days after Bonnie’s death--the Markley children returned home from school.  A strange scene awaited them.  The doors were unlocked and the family car was gone.  The children found that the coffee pot was still on, and John’s watch, which he constantly wore, was on a shelf over the stove.  Bonnie’s purse was still there, but her checkbook was missing.  Upstairs in their parents’ bedroom, the gun cabinet which was always kept locked, was now standing open.  (The children had no idea how many guns their parents owned, so they could not say if anything was missing.)  Their safe was also open, with its contents scattered across the floor, as though someone had frantically searched for some particular item.  The mourning clothes they had planned to wear at Bonnie’s memorial service that evening were laid out on their bed.  Perhaps the strangest detail was in the garage.  John kept a 1978 Corvette there, always covered by two tarps.  Those tarps were now gone.  The confused children phoned an aunt and uncle, who took them to their house.

At first, no one was particularly alarmed by John and Shelly’s absence.  However, when they failed to show up at Bonnie’s funeral the following day, everyone knew something was terribly wrong, and the couple was reported missing.

The subsequent investigation uncovered some troubling clues.  On the day the Markleys disappeared, a check for $1,000 dollars with Shelly’s signature on it was cashed at a Bloomfield, Ohio bank.  A teller saw the couple at the bank’s drive-thru, with a man sitting in the car with them.  Unfortunately, that man has yet to be identified.  Their car was eventually found abandoned in a parking lot ten miles from the Markley home.  Inside was the couple’s cell phone and the two missing tarps.  The keys were missing.  The car was covered in mud, as if it had been driven off-road.

The bank teller was the last known person to have seen the Markleys.  To date, no one knows if they are alive or dead, or if they left on their own free will or (as is considered far more likely) were the victims of foul play.

A curious sequel to the mystery came when Steven Durst, one of John’s co-workers, claimed to be holding the couple captive in return for a $100,000 ransom.  However, no evidence could be found that Durst was anything more than a heartless creep with odd tastes in get-rich-quick schemes.  Durst was convicted of extortion and sentenced to four to ten years.

However, some suspected that Durst was indeed involved in the dual disappearance.  At the time the couple vanished, Durst was out of work, and he was telling people that the Markleys owed him $1000--an interesting detail, considering that the last known sighting of the couple was when they were withdrawing from the bank that exact sum, in the company of a third person.  In 1996, Jane Timko, the lead investigator in the case, said “I truly believe that Steven Durst knows what happened to them and he just won’t say.”

In 2015, law enforcement announced that they had “new leads,” but this information--whatever it may have been--obviously did little to clarify the mystery.  The case of the disappearance of the Markleys appears to have gone well and truly cold.

Sunday, January 1, 2023

The Best of Strange Company 2022




Yet another year has gone by, so it’s time to take a look at the Top Ten Strange Company posts for 2022!  As usual, it was an eclectic mix, with, I hope something for everybody!

Or, at least, everybody with weird tastes.


1. In Which Mr. Buchmann Takes an Unexpected Journey.  A 16th century man is kidnapped by fairies, and doesn’t enjoy it very much.


2. The Runcorn Poltergeist.  A polt case with some unique touches.


3. Down the Driveway, and Into Oblivion: The Disappearance of Charles Ulrich.  The title pretty much says it all: a man inexplicably vanishes from his own home, and is never seen again.


4. The Rougham Mirage.  The “ghost” of a Georgian-era mansion.


5. The Deathless Arm of Dan Donnelly; Or, You Never Know What Will Get You Into the History Books.  A 19th century boxer’s right arm has quite the afterlife.


6. One Night in Maracaibo.  A “strange meteorological occurrence” in 1886.


7.  The Fall of the House of Windham.  A wealthy family is unlucky enough to have one very eccentric relative.


8. Weekend Link Dump, August 19.  Can’t have a Top Ten list without one!


9. The Precolitsch; Or, When Hungarian Gypsies Say There is Trouble Ahead, Believe Them.  A creepy tale about a weird Transylvanian creature.


10. The Ngatea Crop Circle.  One of the more interesting “crop circle” stories.


And there you have it:  the best--or, at least, most viewed--blog posts of the year.  Here's to--God willing--a 2023 full of disappearances, ghosts, UFOs, and killer monsters!