In 1842, two of the world’s great orchestras came to life. In Austria, the Vienna Philharmonic played its first notes at the city’s Imperial Palace on March 28. In Manhattan, nine months later, the New York Philharmonic gave its first perfomance at the Apollo Rooms. In Cleveland that year, cows still grazed peacefully on downtown’s Public Square …
Black Widow. The two words provoke several images, none of them cheery. Most people are aware, at least by repute, of the female black widow spider, notorious for occasionally dining on her male partner after mating. Some are familiar with the archetype of the female serial-killer spouse, memorably rendered in a number of films. Few Clevelanders realize, however, that almost four score years ago their city riveted the attention of the nation for almost a fortnight with sensational news of a serial husband murderess …
The day Cleveland came back, I was sitting in my bathrobe sucking on some coffee and trying to wake up. Then the telephone rang. “We are calling from National Public Radio’s ‘Morning Edition’ program,” a nice young man from the East said. “We wonder if you will let us interview you. Cleveland has come back, you know.” “I know,” I told him. “I read it in USA Today. They had a front-page story saying we were back, so we must be back.” The young man assured me that we were. “The only trouble is, I’m not sure I’m the right person to interview about it,” I said. “I don’t feel as if I’ve ever been away. I’ve been here all the time.”
With the possible exception of the 1954 Marilyn Sheppard murder, Cleveland boasts no bigger or better “signature” crime phenomenon than the baker’s dozen of “Kingsbury Run Torso slayings” that terrified Clevelanders and puzzled lawmen during the latter part of the 1930s. It is Cleveland’s greatest and most malevolent mystery and hardly a year goes by without a renewal of media interest in this serial saga of Depression-era killings.
If you drive by 2025 Ontario Street today you might easily miss it. But on July 3, 1908, that address became history—terrible history. You’d never guess, to look at its modern glass-and-trim front, that it was once the scene of a fiery, exploding holocaust that brought death to seven, injury to dozens, and a day of terror, tears, heroism, and shame to the city of Cleveland. For this is the site of the S. S. Kresge fireworks explosion and fire …
Be the first to hear about new books and special promotions.
We don't send email often—but we think you'll like it when we do!
Receive 15% off your next order …
Receive 20% off your next order …
Be the first to hear about new books and special promotions.
We don’t send email often—but we think you’ll like it when we do!
