The Lorius/Heberer Mystery

This blog has featured several stories about people who disappear or run into some other sort of disaster while on long road trips.  This week, we’ll look at yet another case that makes a strong argument for just staying at home.

Fifty-year-old George Lorius was president of a coal company in East St. Louis, Illinois.  He and his wife Laura had been married for a number of years, but had no children.  They were close friends with another childless middle-aged couple, Albert and Tillie Heberer.  We know little else about the quartet, but they were evidently prosperous, pleasantly ordinary citizens.

A favorite pastime of the two couples was going on trips together.  In May 1935, they set off in George’s 1929 Nash sedan with the goal of visiting the Boulder Dam, and then San Diego, California.  Along the way, they made various side trips, which they chronicled in frequent postcards sent to family and friends.

One of these side trips was to Vaughn, New Mexico, in order to look up an old friend who had moved there.  On May 21, they checked into the Vaughn Hotel.  It is unclear if they were ever able to locate this person, but we do know that the following morning, they had breakfast at the hotel and checked out.  George mentioned to the clerk that they planned to go to Santa Fe, and then Gallup.  Later that day, Tillie sent home a postcard from Albuquerque saying, “Came through this place in the a.m.  No trouble of any kind.  Going to Boulder Dam, then to Los Angeles.”  A clerk at an Albuquerque hotel later said that she spoke to the two couples.  They asked about available rooms, but in the end decided to drive to Gallup instead.  They later stopped at a gas station in Quemado, about 150 miles from Albuquerque.

This was the last confirmed sighting of the two couples.  After this stop, they all appeared to vanish into oblivion.  On June 5, family members, concerned about not hearing from them, notified police.

New Mexico authorities--concerned about the effect the mystery might have on local tourist trade--launched an exhaustive search for the two couples, even bringing the National Guard into the hunt.  A week into the investigation, they made an extremely unsettling discovery: the burned remains of the missing quartet’s belongings had been dumped along a highway near El Paso, Texas.  The following day, George’s sedan was found on a street in Dallas.  The gas tank was full, and the keys were left in the ignition.  Bloodstains and hair were found on the left door of the car.  Also in the car was George’s notebook of odometer readings.  The final entry was made in Socorro, New Mexico, on May 23.

In June, George’s traveler’s checks began turning up throughout New Mexico and Texas, but were clearly clumsy forgeries.  Bertha Williamson, the owner of a boarding house, was the recipient of one of these checks, and she went to the police.  She said it had come from a “nervous young man” with dark hair and a tattoo who had spent a night at her establishment.  He was driving a Nash sedan.  A Dallas gas station owner also reported getting a forged check from a dark young man with a tattooed arm.  That same man had also taken the sedan in to be repaired at a garage in El Paso.  He said he had been in an accident in New Mexico.

It was getting disturbingly obvious that the two couples had been robbed and probably murdered, most likely by the tattooed man.  But who was he, and where were his victims?

"Albuquerque Journal," June 20, 2010, via Newspapers.com

Over the years, a number of dark-haired, tattooed men of questionable character were brought in for questioning, but it proved impossible to tie any of them to the mystery.  Walter Duke, an Albuquerque real estate agent who had taken a deep interest in the case, came to believe that the two couples had been murdered during their brief stay in Vaughn.  In 1963, he was contacted by a woman who claimed to have been a waitress in the Vaughn Hotel in 1935.  She alleged that the couples had checked into the establishment, but--Hotel California style--never left.  She believed they were taken down into the basement, murdered by unspecified robbers, and buried there.  Was this true?  Maybe.  Or maybe not. 

Although the case is still considered an active one, it seems highly unlikely that the mystery of the Lorius/Heberer disappearances will ever be solved.  Curiously enough, the most solid clue we have to their fate comes from the supernatural realm.  On the night of May 22, 1935--long before anyone had reason to suspect that this road trip had gone terribly wrong--Laura Lorius’ sister suddenly woke up in horror.  She told her husband that she dreamed that Laura came to her saying, “I’ve been murdered and buried under the floor of an old building.  You’ll have trouble finding me.”

That last sentence, at least, has proven to be only too accurate.

Weekend Link Dump

 

Welcome to the first Link Dump of 2025!

A "possessed" woman in India.

The links between an Italian Duchess, Thomas Cromwell, and Anne Boleyn.

Some supernatural reasons not to stray off the beaten path.

Alexander the Great's charm offensive.

A map of the Big Cats of Britain.

Superstitions can be good for you.

The strange Rohonc Codex.

Some predictions about 2025 from 100 years ago.

A medical mystery in a French village.

The ghosts of the Cuban Club.

The journeys of Daniel Defoe.

A "proper New Year's gift" for your 18th century maidservant.

In which Princess Mathilde Bonaparte breaks all norms.

Past ways of predicting the future.

Some old British New Year's resolutions.

UFOs and Jimmy Carter.

A New Year's death omen.

The New England Airship Hoax.

The traditions of Plough Monday.

A "walkable" 16th century city.

The blue-eyed murderers.

We have a new "oldest book in the world."  Catchy title, too.

Using grammar to solve cold cases.

The mystery of the body in the basement of a New York club.

That's it for this week!  See you on Monday, when we'll look at a road trip that ended in mysterious tragedy.  In the meantime, here's Neil Young.

Newspaper Clipping of the New Year's Day

Via Newspapers.com

Let’s kick off 2025 with a New Year’s ghost story from Tennessee.  The “Knoxville Journal,” January 1, 1935:

TULLAHOMA Jan 1 (Tuesday)—As the new year winged through Tullahoma at midnight townsmen gathered quietly in the main streets to see the Ghost of Tullahoma walk. 

For the past 62 years there have been those who have sworn that at midnight the apparition of a beautiful woman appears walking along the edge of high buildings.

The legend stretches back through the years to 1872 when two circus performers, man and wife, came to Tullahoma on their way South. They arrived on the last day of the year.

A rope was stretched across the street between two buildings, and the woman balanced her way over the road while her husband accepted contributions to pay their expenses. 

But there was an accident that fateful day in ‘72, and the woman pitched headlong to the ground. 

Townsmen buried her in the city cemetery and erected at the head of the grave a cedar board bearing this inscription: “Nina, aerial artist wife of Peter Conway 1872.”

And each New Year’s eve at midnight the legend says that Nina comes again airily walking along above the heads of revelers. 

Did Nina walk last night? 

There were many who said she did. They say that as the whistles and bells heralded the new year, she came dressed in circus clothes tripping along the tops of buildings. 

But most thought this sheer fantasy and were certain that Nina still rests in her small cemetery with the headboard.

As far as I can tell, this legend appears to have been forgotten, so perhaps poor Nina’s ghost is finally resting in peace.

The Best of Strange Company 2024

 

Happy New Year!  Yes, it's once again time for our annual rundown of this past year's most popular posts.

Whether you like it or not, I guess.

1. The Burial of William the Conqueror.  Not only was this the most-viewed post of the year, by golly, it wasn't even close.  (Note to self for 2025:  More exploding corpses.)

2. Susie Smith's Weird Encore.  Holy hell, talk about a sprint for the finish line.  I published this post just yesterday, and it somehow wound up in the runner-up spot!

3. California's Worst Crime:  The Murder of Mabel Meyer.  Of all the unsolved murders I've covered, this one is right up there when it comes to sheer baffling creepiness.

4. The Mystery of the "Sarah Jo."  A crew vanishes from their boat.  And then things get really weird.

5. The Taking of Joan Gay Croft.   A small child is kidnapped in the aftermath of a tornado.

6. Tales of the Headless Valley.  One of those places where you really don't want to vacation.

7. The Witches of Innsbruck Strike Back.  A "witch-finder" gets run out of town.

8. All Shook Up:  A Case of Louisville Witchcraft.  Some black magic gets way out of hand.

9. Weekend Link Dump, January 5.  Can't have a Top Ten without a WLD popping in.

10. The Strange Deaths of Ruby Bruguier and Arnold Archambeau.  A minor car crash leads to an unsolved mystery.

And there you have it, the best--or, at least, best-viewed--of this soon-to-be-past year.  See you in 2025, when, if there's any luck, we'll encounter more witches, disappearances, murders, and, of course, corpses that just won't stay buried.

Susie Smith's Weird Encore

In 1874, a young woman’s extremely strange death--perhaps the right word is “deaths”--was widely reported in various newspapers and spiritualist publications.  It is one of those stories where all one can say is, “Make of it what you will.”

Lawrence, Massachusetts farmer Greenleaf Smith had a 16-year-old daughter named Susie, a perfectly normal, average teenager who worked as a dressmaker.  Sadly, she came down with a sudden, severe fever.  On September 25th, Susie told her father, “I’ve attended my own funeral.”  In a very rational-sounding tone, she described all the details of the service, including the hymns that were sung.  The girl insisted it was not some hallucination brought on by her sickness; she had seen something very real.  

Around six o’clock that evening, Susie went into violent spasms.  She became increasingly pale, closed her eyes, and died.  Well, sort of.  As her grieving family surrounded the death bed, all absolutely convinced that her life was extinct, they were shocked to see the corpse’s lips suddenly move.  A harsh, gruff voice very unlike Susie’s ordered them, “Rub both her arms as hard as you can.”

The family did just that.  A moment later, the voice said, “Raise her up in end.”  When the family, confused by this remark, hesitated, the voice snapped, “Raise her up in end--you’re deaf, ain’t you?”  Susie's body was pulled upright.  She began breathing again, but did not speak.  As Mr. Smith sat behind his daughter, propping her up, the voice commented, “If I could move her legs around so I could set her up on the foot-board, she’d be all right.”  As Mr. Smith began to move Susie, they both were lifted in the air by an unseen force and placed on the foot-board.  Susie suddenly sprang back to life, seeming to be her old cheerful self.  Before the family could fully react--it would be hard to know what to say under such circumstances--the same invisible power again pulled Susie and her father upright.  Mr. Smith was placed on his feet, while Susie was carried back to her bed.  As she lay there, she appeared to be, again, quite dead.  A few moments later, the “corpse” began speaking in another unfamiliar voice.  It spoke for three hours about how after Susie died, her corpse had been controlled by several different spirits.  Then, the body appeared to go into a “trance sleep.”

The following morning, the body opened its eyes and said to Mr. Smith, “Please lie down on the side of the bed.”  After he obeyed, the body said, “Who am I, anyway?”  Her father replied, “You are Susie Smith.”  He got the reply, “No I ain’t, Susie Smith died last night.”  During the day, Susie--or whoever was occupying her earthly remains--underwent more spasms, and, by noon, appeared to at last be well and truly deceased.

The next morning, her relatives and friends gathered in a downstairs room to decide where Susie should be buried.  As they talked, Susie herself walked into the room and said, “Right on the School Hill, right on the side of the road.”  Then she vanished, never to be seen--or heard--from again.

Susie’s relatives wisely decided to abide by their lost loved one’s directive.  The girl was buried in the town of Denmark, Maine, (Susie’s hometown) on the schoolhouse’s hillside.

Via Findagrave.com

Weekend Link Dump

 

Welcome to the final Link Dump of 2024!

Murder at a Christmas party.

Pro tip: If you're going to murder someone, it's wisest not to have it show up on Google Maps.

Having some personal difficulties?  No problem!  Just summon some demons!

The lore of rosemary.

That time when humans may have nearly become extinct.

Why you don't want to eavesdrop on animals at Christmas Eve:  You probably won't like what you hear.

A millionaire dog's Christmas.

Keening on Christmas Eve.

An Australian survival story.

Was Stonehenge all about unity?

How the Moon influences animals.

Photos of a vanished London.

The mystery of the missing monument.

An epidemic of stolen Christmas dinners.

A poltergeist in Ireland.

The early career of Bob Dylan.

OK, so maybe the dinosaurs weren't killed by volcanoes.

Why we say, "Getting the pink slip."

The birth of Handel's "Messiah."

A Georgian-era judge fights pornography.  I think you can guess which side won.

The colorful marital history of Bess of Hardwick.

That's it for this week!  See you on Monday, when we'll look at one of the weirder deathbed scenes on record.  In the meantime, here's some lovely choral music.

Newspaper Clipping of the Christmas Day

Via Newspapers.com

This startling story--which sounds like something out of a Christmas-themed horror movie--appeared in the “Lichfield Mercury,” January 4, 1907:

A Belfast schoolboy, named Samuel Atchison, has had a terrible Christmas experience, which he is likely to remember to the end of his days.

On Christmas Eve the lad went out to gather holly for the decoration of his heme, and was lost from that hour until Sunday night, when he was found in the attic of an untenanted house, at the point of death and wasted to a skeleton. All through the heavy snowstorms of the last few days the police and bands of searchers had dragged ponds, swamps, and rivers for his body without result, and the circumstances of the disappearance and recovery of the boy are so remarkable as to lead the police to the belief that it is a case of kidnapping. No sounds had been heard by the occupants of the house on either side of that in which the lad was found until Friday last, on which day both neighbours recall they heard what they took to be a faint knocking. No attention, however, was paid until Sunday, when the rapping became so persistent that one of the nextdoor neighbours scaled the yard wall and entered the house, he searched every room without result until he came to the attic, the door of which was closed and the handle had been removed. The neighbour forced open the door and, entering, found the room in darkness, the snow having covered the skylight.

Striking a match he saw the figure of a lad lying unconscious on the floor. Nearby lay his coat, torn to rags, and his waistcoat and trousers were likewise in shreds, the latter, in fact, having only the upper part whole. The searcher, who had read the accounts of Atchison’s disappearance, immediately concluded that this was the missing boy, and he sent at once for the father. The latter hastened to the empty house and, stripping off his coat, wrapped up the lad and rushed home through the binding snowstorm. Two doctors were speedily in attendance.

All their unremitting care and attention have been so far successful that, though the poor boy is still in grave danger, there is, however, some slight hope of his ultimate recovery.  On Monday morning the police made a thorough examination of the attic, and found the inside of the door all clawed where the boy, in the agonies of starvation, had sought to tear through the panels with his nails, and even with his teeth. A correspondent who saw the boy says as he lay moaning and tossing in bed he cried out again and again to imaginary assailants to have pity on him, but there was nothing coherent in his speech, the only person he seemed to recognise being his mother. How the boy came to be in that house, why the handle should have been removed from the lock, whether the interval from Monday until Friday had been entirely spent inside the room, and whether it was a case of kidnapping are all questions which are greatly puzzling the police. The doctors stated on Monday that in a very short time—a matter of minutes, in fact—the boy would have been a corpse, and it is probable that his mind will be permanently affected by his terrible experience.  It is hoped, however, that when he recovers consciousness some light will be thrown on the mystery.

What adds to the strangeness of this case is the fact that I haven’t been able to find any published resolution.  By the end of January, the story seemed to have disappeared from the newspapers.  I am unable to say if Samuel fully recovered from his ordeal, or if the puzzle of his Christmas imprisonment was ever solved.