On Easter Sunday, March 30, 1975, in Hamilton, Ohio, a family gathering turned into one of America’s deadliest familicides. Forty-one-year-old James Urban Ruppert was an unemployed draftsman. He shot and killed eleven relatives in what reporters called the Easter Sunday Massacre. The crime shocked the working-class Lindenwald neighborhood and left deep scars that lingered for decades.
The Cashtown Inn has stood along the old Chambersburg Turnpike for more than two centuries. Built sometime between 1797 and 1806, it served travelers passing between Chambersburg and Gettysburg. They came for food, rest, and a warm bed before continuing west. Its first owner, Peter Mark, accepted only cash. The inn took its name from his policy, and over time, it took on a much darker role.
The candlelight flickers, stretching shadows along the walls. The air is thick with anticipation, heavy with the scent of wax and something else, something older. Around the table, hands clasp tightly, knuckles white. Silence. The medium inhales deeply, eyes rolling back. Then…knock.
A gasp. A question whispered into the void. The table trembles beneath their fingertips. Another knock. Closer. Is it the dead, reaching through the veil? Or something else, just out of sight?
Edith Wharton’s beloved Mount Estate rises above Laurel Lake in Lenox, Massachusetts, a stunning tribute to one of America’s literary greats. But beyond its grand architecture and lush gardens, something lingers. Built in 1902, The Mount has become more than just a historic home. It’s a ghost story, its walls steeped in whispers from the past.
History gets things wrong all the time. Sometimes it’s an honest mistake, a name misspelled in a record, a place misidentified in a report. Other times, those small errors snowball until entire events are misremembered, misfiled, or just plain lost. That’s exactly what happened when I came across a strange entry in a WWII Signal Corps film log.
The Seelbach Hilton in Louisville, Kentucky, epitomizes Southern luxury and historic charm. This iconic hotel has welcomed infamous figures such as Lucky Luciano, Dutch Schultz, and Al Capone. It served as the inspiration for the wedding scene in The Great Gatsby. Yet, beneath its opulent décor lies a chilling legend: the tale of the “Lady in Blue,” a ghostly figure shrouded in mystery and sorrow. Believed to be the spirit of Pearl Mae Elliott, this tragic figure continues to haunt the halls of this grand hotel, the Seelbach Hilton Lady in Blue. Her life and untimely death are still steeped in questions.