Why do we celebrate Groundhog Day?

Most Americans are familiar with the annual celebration of Groundhog Day. Every February 2nd, people gather nationwide for the yearly celebration to discover if spring is around the corner, or if they will endure another six weeks of winter. Punxsutawney, Pennsylvania’s  celebration of the holiday sees the biggest crowds in the country, with more than 20,000 people in attendance, and millions more watching on television. With roots in Native lore, the contemporary celebration predates the area’s first English settlers. Here, we’re exploring the history of Punxsutawney, and what makes the city’s Groundhog Day celebration unique.


 The Birth of a Tradition

 The area that is today Punxsutawney was first settled by the Delaware Indians. It originally served as a campsite between the Allegheny and Susquehanna rivers, and for several years was home to tribes that moved through the area. According to the creation myth of the Delaware Indians, their ancestors, the “Lenni Lenape,” began their lives as animals in “mother earth,” before eventually emerging as humans. Oijik, or “Woodchuck,” was recognized as the grandfather of the area’s earliest inhabitants. This legend persisted through centuries, and contributed to the rise of Groundhog Day lore.

Beginning in 1723, white settlers moved into the area, and began pushing the native tribes out. In an effort to protect their land, the Delaware, Muncy, Shawnees, Naticokes, Tuscaroras, and Mingoes tribes met at the Punxsutawney lodge in 1754. Their petition resisted the sale of their land to incoming white settlers. Unfortunately, their attempt was unsuccessful. By the late 1790s, the first official white establishment was created in today’s Jefferson County. Natives helped this community learn how to hunt, plant, and live successfully off the land. However, by the early 1800s, the tribes had largely vacated the area.

Skills for working off the land weren’t the only thing Natives left behind for settlers. Their legend of Oijik became popular amongst the colonists as well. They quickly adopted the story into their own traditions, and the modern Groundhog Day celebration began to take shape.

The 2001 members of the Groundhog Club’s Inner Circle. Reprinted from Around Punxsutawney by Sr. Anne Frances Pulling (pg.4, Arcadia Publishing, 2001).

Groundhog Day in Punxsutawney

 The city of Punxsutawney’s most famous resident is not a person: it’s a groundhog. Every year, Punxsutawney Phil predicts whether spring is near, or winter will remain. According to tradition, if Phil sees his shadow, he is startled back to his hole for another six weeks of winter. However, if he doesn’t see his shadow, spring has arrived. The Groundhog Day celebration has been taking place since 1887, and begins well before sunrise on February 2. Phil lives on Gobbler’s Knot. Here, an enormous festival takes place every year with food, drink, and music.

The Punxsutawney Groundhog Club Inner Circle oversees the yearly festival, and tends to Phil year-round. Members are easily recognized by their top hats and tuxedos. Every year, the vice president of the Inner Circle prepares two scrolls prior to the event – one to read if Phil sees his shadow, and one if he doesn’t. Then, on the morning of February 2nd, Phil wakes and climbs from his hole with the help of his handlers. Phil speaks to the president of the Inner Circle in a language known as “Groundhogese” and reveals if he has seen his shadow. Only the president of the Inner Circle can understand this language. In their possession is an ancient acacia wood cane which grants them the ability to translate Phil’s words. The president then indicates to the vice president which scroll should be read to the eager crowd. This reading, regardless of the outcome, results in a day-long celebration.

Little did early settlers know when they integrated Native traditions with their own that the celebration would evolve into the popular gathering it is today. Much of the longstanding history of Punxsutawney has been preserved in this tradition. Stemming from the lore of the land’s first inhabitants, the celebration of Groundhog Day is famed across the nation and remains at the heart of Punxsutawney.

The Life and Times of Dangerous Al Jennings

For many, tales of the Wild West elicit visions of horseback riding cowboys, daring outlaws, and dusty saloons. For author Clay Coppedge, it’s the unique and often forgotten stories from Texas’ Wild West that excite him. In his book Texas Singularities: Prairie Dog Lawyers, Peg Leg Stage Robberies & Mysterious Malakoff Men, he looks at some of the strangest stories from the Lone Star State, and today has shared one of the stories of an outlaw who didn’t quite make the cut – for his book, or as a criminal!


This was one of the first stories I chose for my newest collection of Texana for History Press, but it was one of the first to go. Though Al Jennings would have fit perfectly in the “Great Pretenders” section of my book, this dude just wasn’t Texas enough. Most of his alleged and ill-advised perpetrations took place in present-day Oklahoma, though he dropped into Texas from time to time. Dangerous Al made it into the history books, just as he hoped he would, though not in the context he tried to script.

Life and Times of Dangerous Al Jennings

 Al Jennings was a bad outlaw, not in the sense that he was dangerous or feared, but in the sense that he wasn’t very good at outlawry. Jennings was, however, a good storyteller, and good stories last longer than bad outlaws unless, of course, a bad outlaw is telling the story. That was the case when Al Jennings was the storyteller.

Al Jennings. Image courtesy of the author.

The Al Jennings stories include all manner of Old West characters, from writer O. Henry to Sam Houston’s gunslinging, lawyering son Temple Lea Houston to the Lone Ranger.

That’s a lot of ground to cover, but we’ll begin in 1895 in Woodward, Oklahoma, where Al and his brother John were lawyers, and had the misfortune to try a case against the wildly popular and successful Temple Houston, son of Sam. The Jennings boys and Houston almost came to blows during the trial, the disagreement stretching into the evening, and culminating with a gunfight that found John dead and Sam Houston’s son charged with murder.

John stayed dead, but Temple Houston won his own freedom in court, same as he did for many another alleged killer.

“The future, which seemed so bright to me as a young lawyer in a new country, died with my brother,” Al Jennings later wrote. “I reverted to the primitive man that was within me.” 

The primitive man inside Al Jennings wasn’t very bright. First, he and his remaining brother, Frank, laid hands on some fake U.S. Marshall badges, and used them to charge gullible trail herders a fictional toll for driving their cattle across the territory. Amusing as that was, Jennings wanted more out of life. He wanted to be a train robber. So, he recruited a few members of the Doolin gang to help him be all he could be. The gang included Frank, Little Dick West, Dynamite Dick Clifton and the O’Malley brothers, Morris and Pat. Together, they discovered several ways not to rob a train. 

One sure way to not rob a train is to stand on the tracks, waving a lantern and firing your pistol in the air. Al Jennings tried this once and succeeded only in jumping out of the way of the train before it ended his primitive phase (and all future phases) right then and there.

Jennings and the gang also figured out that safes don’t open, regardless of how hard you bang on it or how many times you shoot it. They tried that once and, when the safe failed to respond, they robbed the passengers and rode away with a jug of whiskey and some bananas.

As the brains of the operation, Jennings pondered the early setbacks and decided two things. One, it would be easier to board a train that was already stopped, rather than stopping one that was already in full locomotion. Two, he needed dynamite to get inside the safe.

At a watering station near Minco, Oklahoma, Jennings and his accomplices snuck up on an unsuspecting train, and laid a load of dynamite by the safe. Jennings lit the fuse and ran like hell. A few seconds later the entire baggage car exploded into splinters. The safe and any money that might have been in it seemed to have vaporized. The gang once again had to settle for robbing the passengers, none of whom turned out to be rich.

The gang then made a crucial and atypically wise decision – they broke up. But U.S. Marshal Bud Ledbetter found the Jennings brothers hiding under some blankets on a wagon, and hauled them off to jail. A jury convicted them, and the judge sentenced Al Jennings to life in prison.

A picture of Al Jennings, later in life. Image courtesy of the author.

At Leavenworth prison, Jennings befriended a bank teller from Austin named William Sydney Porter, who was in the slammer for embezzlement. Since Jennings liked to talk and Porter liked to listen, the two became good friends. When Porter left prison and began writing under the name O. Henry, one of the first stories he published was called “Holding Up a Train,” which Jennings actually wrote.

Jennings was released from prison in 1904 when President Theodore Roosevelt, who knew Al’s father, a judge, pardoned him. Jennings married, ran unsuccessfully for governor of Oklahoma, and then made his way to California, where he talked his way into the movies as a consultant and occasional actor on more than 100 westerns. He was popular on the lecture circuit, and a favorite subject for interviewers because of his remarkable stories, like the one about the time he beat Jesse James in a shooting match, a feat all the more remarkable when you consider that Jesse had been dead for many years when the alleged shooting match took place.

Jennings was 82 years old in 1945 when he sued a California radio station for defamation of character because the popular “Lone Ranger” serial had, among other grievous historical inaccuracies, belittled his talents as a gunman.

“They made me mad,” Jennings told the amused jury. “They had this Lone Ranger shooting a gun out of my hand, and me an expert.” The jurors ruled in favor of the radio station.

A few years later, he accidentally killed one of his own roosters with his trusty six-shooter while chasing down an alleged chicken thief. Neighbors called the police on Jennings again when he and the actor Hugh O’Brien, who played Wyatt Earp on TV, squared off in a showdown with blanks. A couple of years later, while showing an old friend how well he could handle a six shooter, Jennings shot the old friend in the elbow. 

Jennings died in California 1961 at the age of 97. Neighbors, old friends, actors, and roosters alike probably breathed a big sigh of relief, because they had found out first-hand just how dangerous Al Jennings could be.

The Hidden History of the Underground Railroad

When we conjure images of the Underground Railroad, we’re mostly likely seeing dimly lit trails in the woods, tight hidden spaces to hide during the day, and the terrifying prospect of being recaptured. What began as an effort by abolitionists to protest slavery in the South became one of the most intricate and successful rebukes of slavery in history. Here, we will investigate the incredible true stories to discover what made the Underground Railroad such a pivotal moment in American history.


 The Movement Gathers Momentum

 In 1786, George Washington famously remarked that one of his runaway slaves was helped by a “society of Quakers.” These Quakers, also known as members of the Religious Society of Friends, were considered the first abolitionists, and they assisted several of the slaves on Washington’s plantation to freedom in the North. To aid in this process, Quaker leader Isaac T. Hopper formed a network of routes and shelters through Philadelphia to help the runaway slaves. Meanwhile, Quakers in North Carolina began forming their own set of tunnels, and the first sections of the Underground Railroad started to take shape.

The Underground Railroad wasn’t officially called the ‘Underground Railroad’ until 1831, and by then escapes were well underway. By the early 1800s, every northern state had passed laws making slavery illegal. There was such widespread northern support for aiding runaway slaves that it was common to see bake sales and donation sites scattered across cities in the North, where all the proceeds went to those who were assisting the Railroad.

Frederick Douglass, a vocal opponent of slavery, and a former slave who helped many along the Underground Railroad. Reprinted from Frederick Douglass in Washington, D.C.: The Lion of Anacostia by John Muller, courtesy of the author (pg. 39, The History Press, 2012).

However, this support of abolishing slavery loudly opposed slave owners in the South. Tensions between the North and South grew as conflicting laws were passed by both sides. In 1793, southern state officials were able to pass the Fugitive Slave Act through Congress, which federally permitted slave owners to travel northward and capture runaway slaves to force them back to the South. This law also allowed for the capture of African Americans suspected of escaping slavery in the North, bring them back to the South and, in most cases, receive a hefty financial reward. In response, northern states passed a series of “personal liberty” acts throughout the 1850s, which disputed the Fugitive Slave Acts, and allowed northerners to help runaway slaves. Many northern politicians also openly disputed the runaway slave laws, and encouraged the Underground Railroad’s continuation.

Despite these laws, thousands of slaves were using the Underground Railroad by the 1830s and 1840s. By 1850, the Fugitive Slave Act was expanded, making it illegal for free people to harbor runaway slaves. A guilty charge could result in six months prison time, or a $1,000 fine, a fine equal to nearly $30,000 today. Even with these threats, between 1800 and 1850, an estimated 100,000 slaves escaped, with the help of Vigilance Committees to the North. Most went to major cities in the North, but some went on to Canada, or traveled to the western United States, Mexico, the Caribbean Islands, and South America.  

There is a common misconception that the Underground Railroad was a series of underground tunnels or discrete railroads. While this was true in some areas, the system was in general much looser than that. There was no official structure or leader – a characteristic that led to the development of a language of codes that only few trusted individuals associated with the Railroad knew. People who guided runaways were known as “conductors,” locations where slaves could hide were “stations” or “safe houses,” slaves in the safe keeping of their conductor were called “cargo,” and those who hid slaves on their properties were known as “station masters.” The Big Digger, with its handle pointing north, served as a reference point for direction and came to be known as the “drinking gourd.” Likewise, the Ohio River adopted a name from the bible: The River Jordan.

Conducting the Underground Railroad

Harriet Tubman, who helped thousands of slaves with their journey through the Underground Railroad. Reprinted from Hidden History of Hilton Head by Alice E. Sink (pg. 17, The History Press, 2010).


For most slaves who desired to escape simply getting off their plantation proved to be the most difficult and often most dangerous. Sometimes a “conductor” dressed as a slave would enter the plantation to sneak the runaways out, and lead them northward. Escapees would travel in the night, and had to cover anywhere from 10 to 20 miles between rest stops. During the day, they paused at a “station” to sleep and eat before setting out again after sunset. Occasionally, they would travel by train or boat, though this often cost much more money than most runaway slaves possessed. Money was also needed to improve the appearance of runaways – men, women, and children in tattered clothing would draw suspicion. A “conductor” would normally aid with this too.

There were over 3,200 people who were known to have worked on the railroad. Harriet Tubman is one of the most famous, as she made 19 individual trips to the South during the 1850s and helped 300 slaves to freedom. Tubman was born a slave, and first got involved in the Railroad to help her family escape. Other people like Levi Coffin, a Quaker, helped more than 3,000 slaves to freedom, and John Fairfield, son of slave owners, made several daring rescues himself. Using his home in New York, Frederick Douglass helped more than 400 escaped slaves reach safety in Canada. Douglass was a former slave himself, and would later become one of the most prominent voices in promoting the abolishment of slavery throughout the 1800s.

Due to the Civil War in 1863, the Underground Railroad stopped. It’s estimated that 179,000 free African American men served in the Civil War, making up 10% of the Union Army. Today, we remember the Underground Railroad as an incredible feat, conducted by average famers and business owners, and a handful of courageous individuals who repeatedly risked their lives making trips southward. The Underground Railroad marks a strained time in American history, but the hope and determination of those involved will be remembered for years to come. 

6 Super Bowl Halftime Performances That Stole the Show

In the beginning, Super Bowl halftime performances consisted mostly of marching bands and professional extreme stunt acts. But with their yearly audience rapidly increasing, the National Football League (NFL) recognized the need for bigger and better halftime shows. Soon, they began enlisting famous artists to take the stage halfway through the game – a decision that forever changed how viewers engage with halftime performances. Here are six Super Bowl performances we’ll never forget.


Super Bowl I

A photo from the first Super Bowl, on January 15, 1967. The game was held at the Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum; notice the many empty seats. Reprinted from Los Angeles Memorial Coliseum by Chris Epting (pg. 75, Arcadia Publishing, 2002).

A list of the best Super Bowl halftime performances would not be complete without the very first one. On January 15, 1967, marching bands from Grambling State University and the University of Arizona took the field. During their performance they formed an outline of the United States on the field, and were joined by trumpeter Al Hirt and the Three Stooges. Spectators were also treated to 300 pigeons, 10,000 balloons, and a demonstration by the Bell Rocket Air Men, who soared through the air propelled by hydrogen peroxide.


Super Bowl XXV

 On January 26, 1992, the theme for Super Bowl XXV was “A Small World Salute to 25 Years of the Super Bowl” in honor of a quarter of a century of professional football championship games. New Kids on the Block were the featured act, with 3,500 local children from several different ethnic backgrounds. Despite relatively successful halftime performances in the past, the game’s broadcasting network opted to not air the halftime show. Instead, they turned to news anchor Peter Jennings to report on the status of the Gulf War. However, Super Bowl viewers weren’t completely at a loss as the taped halftime performance was played after the game.


Super Bowl XXVI 

For the 26th Super Bowl, the halftime performance was titled “Winter Magic” in celebration of the Winter Olympics. Olympic figure skating champions Brian Boitano and Dorothy Hamill skated on sheets of Teflon laid across the field while Gloria Estefan sang the performance’s finale. The Pride of Minnesota marching band also made an appearance. However, the act didn’t see the success that organizers had hoped for. At the same time of the halftime performance, Fox broadcasted a special live episode of In Living Color, a popular comedy television series, that stole much of the halftime show’s viewership. From the game itself to the halftime show, viewership fell 22%. The NFL concluded that the next year, they would need to invite a more famous artist to perform to keep people’s eyes on the Super Bowl.


Super Bowl XXVII

A photo of Michael Jackson rehearsing before his 1993 show at the Super Bowl. Jackson was the old performer to be paid for his halftime show appearance. Reprinted from The Rose Bowl by , courtesy of PMH, PSN Collection (pg. 68, Arcadia Publishing, 2010).

 After a halftime flop for Super Bowl XXVI, the NFL knew they had to step it up a notch. They managed to secure Michael Jackson as their halftime performer. His appearance at the game would spark a trend, pushing big-name artists to headline halftime shows. To this day, the league never pays performers for their halftime gigs, Jackson being the only exception. After much back and forth with Jackson’s label, they eventually agreed to let him perform. The agreement stated that the NFL and Frito-Lay donate $100,000 to the Heal the World Foundation, a charity founded by Jackson that aimed to provide health care, drug education, and mentorship to Los Angeles youth. Jackson’s performance was a huge success, and was the first time in history that game ratings spiked during a halftime show.


Super Bowl XXIX 

For Super Bowl XXIX, the halftime show was titled “Indiana Jones and the Temple of the Forbidden Eye.” Disney produced the performance, and used it as an opportunity to promote their new Indiana Jones Adventure Attraction at Disneyland. The show plot followed actors playing Indiana Jones and his girlfriend Marion Ravenwood as they raided the Vince Lombardi Trophy from the Temple of the Forbidden Eye. Singers Tony Bennett and Patti LaBelle were featured along with trumpeter Arturo Sandoval and the Miami Sound Machine. The performance concluded with the crowd joining in to sing “Can You Feel the Love Tonight” from Disney’s The Lion King.


Super Bowl XLIX 

Super Bowl XLIX had one of the highest-ranked halftime performances ever. On February 1, 2015, Katy Perry, with special appearances by Lenny Kravitz and Missy Elliot, took the stage. With 118.5 million views in the United States and 20.7 million views worldwide, the halftime show had more watchers than the game itself. Perry’s performance here would go down in history as one of the most elaborate, using both high-quality video projection and lighting. GlowMotion Technologies made 616 light globes that were controlled wirelessly throughout the performance, images were projected over 18,000 square feet of the field, and to cap it off, Perry entered riding a mechanical lion and exited on a flying star.


Since the first halftime show in 1967, the mid-game performance has evolved into a glamorous expression of music, lights, and dancing. Some of the greatest artists from the past century have had the opportunity to perform, and they have set the standard for Super Bowl halftime performances to come. Today, as one of the nation’s most-watched sporting events, the Super Bowl would be unfathomable without its halftime production. 

The Most Iconic Florida Lighthouses and Their Historic Quirks

What makes a lighthouse an iconic structure? These Florida lighthouses have witnessed wars, pirates, vandalism, erosion, hurricanes and even crashes into the sea — and all of them still stand to share fascinating snippets of maritime history. The following are a few of the most iconic Florida lighthouses that illuminate dark shorelines and help steer safe passage for travelers.

St. Augustine Light Station

When we think of quintessential lighthouses, we often think of black and white towers striped like a candy cane. That’s exactly what the St. Augustine Light Station looks like. But the fact that it’s iconic in appearance is only part of the reason this lighthouse is so famous. The city of St. Augustine itself has a deeply rooted history in maritime navigation, and its lighthouse was the very first established in Florida.

Archival maps and records suggest that Spanish settlers built the earliest form of the St. Augustine lighthouse in the 16th century. Residents improved the original structure several times until they realized it wouldn’t survive the test of time, due to the effects of shoreline erosion. In 1871, construction began on the new lighthouse, which was set further inland, resulting in a 165-feet-high building that was more than three times taller than its predecessor.  The original lighthouse eventually crashed into the sea in 1880.

Garden Key Lighthouse

If you’re looking for interesting lighthouses, then the Garden Key Light is definitely one to add to your list. Located at Fort Jefferson in Dry Tortugas National Park, this fascinating sight was once a safe haven for pirates. In fact, the archipelago was once a hotbed for swashbucklers and squatters, so it’s not surprising that the key’s structures served as pirate hangouts through the 1800s. The lighthouse is immortalized in “Jack Tier or the Florida Reef” by James Fenimore Cooper and in the short story “After the Storm” by Ernest Hemingway.

Ponce de Leon Inlet Lighthouse

With over 80,000 visitors per year, the Ponce de Leon Light Station is one of the best-preserved lighthouses in the country. Towering over the buildings below at 175 feet high, it’s the tallest lighthouse in Florida and the second tallest in the United States. Perhaps what makes the Ponce de Leon both significant and beloved is the fact that it has been meticulously restored and maintained for nearly 200 years. It’s one of only a few 19th century lighthouses to have all of its original structures on the compound. And then, of course, there’s the fact that the structure is pretty hard to miss with its bright Venetian Red paint.

Hillsboro Inlet Light 

The Hillsboro Inlet Light, located midway between Fort Lauderdale and Boca Raton, has one of the most interesting lighthouse designs in the U.S. It features an octagonal, iron tower originally used by a Chicago steel firm during the 1904 St. Louis World’s Fair. Amazingly, if you take a closer look at the Hillsboro lighthouse, you’ll see that it’s held together with bolts and no welds. Instead, the piping is secured by nearly 200 special cast iron joints. The skeletal exterior surrounds a cylindrical core painted black and white.

So how did such a unique lighthouse come to be? The tower traces its roots all the way back to 1907, when concerned citizens from the United States Lighthouse Board persuaded Congress to authorize construction in order to make the inlet safer for maritime travelers. The United States government purchased the steel structure — built by the Russell Wheel and Foundry of Detroit —  from the World’s Fair to stabilize the light.

Jupiter Lighthouse

Jupiter, Florida residents turned on the Jupiter Inlet Lighthouse for the first time in July of 1860, about nine years after President Franklin Pierce signed an order granting the funding for the project. Next to the lighthouse, the town added a weather bureau station and signal station for passing ships.

In 1936, the U.S. Navy acquired some of the land to operate a Radio Compass Station as an aid to navigation. But since all U.S. lighthouses were transferred to the Coast Guard in 1939, the Navy moved its station to another part of the land.

During World War II, the station detected German U-boats during the war and warned allied ships to help U.S. forces attack the enemy vessels. In all, they helped to destroy roughly 67 German submarines.

Bonus: Carrabelle Bottle Lighthouse

The coastal Panhandle town of Carrabelle boasts one of Florida’s most interesting oddities, which just so happens to be a lighthouse. Created by artist Leon Wiesener, the 15-foot-tall Bottle House is crafted from over 6,000 glass bottles. This lighthouse doesn’t serve as a beacon for maritime travelers, but instead as a stop-off for those in search of unconventional charm and artistic ingenuity. It stands at 604 S.E. Avenue F in Carrabelle.

For more insight about the most famous and fascinating light stations on America’s southern peninsula, check out “Florida Lighthouses” by John Hairr.

Louisville’s Alma Kellner Mystery – The Right Man?

This article is written by Shawn M. Herron, the author of Louisville’s Alma Kellner Mystery

The loss of a child is the ultimate tragedy for loving parents.  When a child disappears without a trace, the pain is immeasurably greater.   This was the heartbreak faced by the parents of young Alma Kellner when she vanished without a trace in December, 1909.  For months, her parents, her siblings and her extended family lived in limbo, hoping and praying that she would return to them.  Those hopes were dashed when almost six months later, her pitiful remains were located within a few hundred feet of where she was last seen.   This set in motion a dramatic search for her killer that led a lone police detective across the United States and beyond.

Alma Keller, pictured shortly before her disappearance. Reprinted from Louisville’s Alma Kellner Mystery

The Alma Kellner disappearance and murder is a story of fear, the fear all parents have for the safety of their children, the fear of a community for a missing child, and then her killer lurking in their midst.  Now, with stranger danger, Amber Alerts, tracking devices and a never-ending news cycle, it is still a parent’s worst nightmare, the worry about their child being abducted, assaulted and murdered.  But the early 1900s were a time where young children were accustomed to walking around a neighborhood alone and unsupervised, to school, to church, to the home of a playmate or family member, safety watched over by all the adults who would speak and wave to a child they might see daily.  It was a time when they could be expected to be safe and secure while doing so, and the rare case of a missing child would have sent horror through the citizens of Louisville  in the pre-World War I era.  

When I discovered the story of Alma Kellner’s disappearance, I had already been involved in volunteer search and rescue for many years and had worked a number of missing children cases.  In search and rescue, we have the mantra, search is the classic mystery.  Most, fortunately, ended quickly and happily, with the child being found safe.  A few, unfortunately, did not.   Across the United States, there are still the occasional cases of missing children ultimately being found deceased by accident or homicide, or simply never found at all, leaving family in the torture of limbo. 

Like any mystery, when I first ran across the Kellner family heartbreak while roaming through old newspaper articles, looking for interesting stories, I was intrigued. I did not know what had happened or how the story would end.  The purely fortuitous discovery of Wendling’s trial transcript, a document that under normal circumstances would have long ago disappeared, in the University of Notre Dame’s archives, gave insight into what the jury had before them in making the decision to convict Wendling of the murder.   The story of the Kellner and Wendling families was revealed just as it is in any such murder case, through research and investigation.  And just like a modern, current criminal case, as the newspaper detailed the facts first of the disappearance, then of the long wait, the discovery and the cross-country chase for the suspect, what we now know was not known to the participants at the time.  They could only take each day at a time, waiting anxiously for new information to be learned and revealed.  The newspaper readers in Louisville certainly followed the daily events in the case avidly and were relieved when the suspect was apprehended and returned to Louisville, to face justice. 

But did the actual killer face a Jefferson County jury?  In Louisville’s Alma Kellner Mystery, I have attempted to, given the 100 and more years that have passed since the events and the loss of what little physical evidence was available, to give readers at least some sense of the facts as known at the time, and some enlightenment for the jury’s decision in the case.  As is the case even now, in a high-profile murder case, we soon lose any sense of the victim, more so when that victim is a young child, amorphous and unknown to all but her family, and the accused killer soon takes center stage. That is simply unavoidable.   I leave it up to the reader to decide, however, if looking back, through what was learned later, both in a possible alternate suspect, and in the behavior of the suspect after he was convicted, whether the man who was convicted, Joseph Wendling, did, in fact, steal away, and ultimately murder young Alma Kellner from where she knelt in prayer.