Épisodes

  • Gauley Bridge, West Virginia: America's Deadliest Industrial Cover-Up
    Dec 9 2025
    Episode SummaryIn 1931, seventeen-year-old Dewey Flack stepped off a train in Gauley Bridge, West Virginia, carrying a one-way ticket and a promise to send money home to his family. Two weeks later, he was dead—his lungs filled with crystalline silica dust so pure it turned them to stone. His death certificate said pneumonia. It was a lie.Dewey was one of approximately 764 workers who died during construction of the Hawks Nest Tunnel, a three-mile hydroelectric project that has been called America's worst industrial disaster. The project, managed by Union Carbide subsidiary New Kanawha Power Company and contracted to Rinehart & Dennis, attracted roughly 3,000 workers during the depths of the Great Depression. Three-quarters of them were Black migrants fleeing unemployment in the segregated South, drawn by the promise of paying work when jobs had vanished across America.What they found instead was a death sentence. The tunnel cut through rock that was 99 percent pure silica, and the contractors used dry drilling methods to save time and extract the valuable mineral. Workers testified that the dust was so thick they couldn't see an electric light ten feet away—one survivor said you could "practically chew the dust." Medical science had documented silicosis since 1910. The companies knew exactly what they were doing.When workers began dying—sometimes dozens in a single week—the company fired them. Those too sick to leave were buried in mass graves under cover of darkness, their death certificates falsified to read "pneumonia" or "tuberculosis." Families back home waited for letters that never came, believing their sons and fathers had abandoned them. Dewey Flack's family spent eighty-eight years thinking he had run away—until NPR finally located his niece in 2019 and told her the truth.Timeline of EventsThe Hawks Nest Tunnel disaster unfolded over eighteen months that changed American labor history. What began as a Depression-era promise of employment became a systematic cover-up that would take nearly a century to fully expose.January 7, 1927 — Union Carbide creates New Kanawha Power Company to build hydroelectric project at Gauley Bridge, West Virginia.March 31, 1930 — Construction begins on three-mile Hawks Nest Tunnel through Gauley Mountain. Rinehart & Dennis employs approximately 3,000 workers, most of them Black migrants from the South.February 1931 — Local newspaper reports 37 deaths among tunnel workers in just two weeks. A local judge issues a gag order. The story disappears.May 1931 — Dr. Leonidas H. Harless examines dozens of workers at Gauley Bridge hospital and identifies silicosis. He writes to Union Carbide warning of catastrophic death rates. The company ignores him.September 1931 — Tunnel construction is completed. Workers continue dying for years afterward as silicosis claims its victims.January 1936 — House Committee on Labor begins Congressional investigation, led in part by New York Congressman Vito Marcantonio. The subcommittee documents 476 official silicosis deaths and condemns conditions as "hardly conceivable in a democratic government."September 7, 2012 — Historical marker finally dedicated at Hawks Nest, acknowledging the disaster.Historical SignificanceThe Hawks Nest Tunnel disaster stands as a devastating example of how corporate profit was placed above human life during America's industrial age. The Congressional investigation of 1936 exposed not just the immediate tragedy, but a system designed to exploit the most vulnerable workers while evading any accountability.What makes Hawks Nest particularly significant is how thoroughly the disaster was buried. Unlike other industrial tragedies that sparked immediate reform, Hawks Nest was actively covered up. The companies falsified death certificates, buried workers in unmarked mass graves, and fired anyone who got sick before they could seek treatment. Families were never notified. Records were destroyed. For decades, the full scope of what happened remained hidden.The racial dimension cannot be ignored. Three-quarters of the workforce was Black, and these workers were assigned the dirtiest, most dangerous tasks. They were paid in company scrip while white workers received cash. They were housed twelve to a room in boxcars while white workers got better accommodations. When they died, they were buried in segregated trenches because they weren't allowed in "white" cemeteries. The Congressional report noted that conditions were "hardly conceivable in a democratic government in the present century."While Hawks Nest helped establish silicosis as a recognized occupational disease with compensation protections, the tunnel workers themselves were never protected by these laws. Union Carbide paid less than $1,000 per death on average in legal settlements. No executives ever went to prison. The disaster that killed more Americans than any other industrial incident in history resulted in no criminal charges...
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    20 min
  • Wheeling, West Virginia: When Steel Workers Became Radio Stars
    Dec 2 2025
    The StoryIn the depths of the Great Depression, when unemployment in West Virginia topped 25% and families struggled to afford even basic necessities, something remarkable happened in Wheeling. Steel workers—machinists, crane operators, stenographers—became national radio celebrities. Their show, "It's Wheeling Steel," reached millions of Americans coast to coast and proved that working-class people weren't just audiences—they were artists.The man behind this unlikely experiment was John L. Grimes, advertising director for the Wheeling Steel Corporation. For six years, from 1930 to 1936, Grimes lobbied his bosses with a radical idea: create a radio variety show featuring only company employees and their families as performers. His executives were skeptical. Why would anyone want to listen to factory workers sing and play music? But Grimes saw something they didn't—untapped talent, community pride, and an advertising opportunity that could transform both the company's image and employee morale.On November 8, 1936, "It's Wheeling Steel" debuted on Wheeling's WWVA radio station. The half-hour program featured light classics, popular songs, and show tunes performed by an orchestra of local musicians and amateur headliner performers—all drawn from Wheeling Steel's extended family of employees. Grimes maintained strict requirements: every performer, every producer, every arranger had to work for Wheeling Steel Corporation or be an immediate family member. Even when professional talent like singer Regina Colbert joined the show, she was first hired as a secretary in the advertising department to meet the requirement.The program was an instant success with local audiences. The forty-two-piece orchestra, dubbed the Musical Steelmakers, featured employees who balanced grueling factory shifts with weekly rehearsals. Dorothy Ann Crowe, a company stenographer, performed solos that drew thousands of fan letters. The Steel Sisters harmonized for radio audiences between their office duties. These weren't professional entertainers—they were ordinary people with extraordinary talents, finally given a platform to shine.In January 1939, the Mutual Broadcasting System picked up "It's Wheeling Steel" for national distribution. The show's appeal proved nationwide. By 1939, the program had outgrown its studio space and moved to Wheeling's Capitol Theatre, where audiences of up to 2,400 people could watch the live broadcasts. On June 25, 1939, the Musical Steelmakers performed at the New York World's Fair before more than 26,000 attendees—one of the fair's largest outdoor performances.In 1941, "It's Wheeling Steel" jumped to NBC's Blue Network and rose to fifth place in national listener ratings. The show that skeptical executives had questioned was now competing with the biggest names in radio. For eight years, from 1936 to 1944, steel workers proved they belonged on America's biggest stages.When World War II began, the program shifted focus to support the war effort. "Buy a Bomber" broadcasts toured West Virginia cities, challenging communities to purchase enough defense bonds to buy a bomber plane. One broadcast from West Virginia University's field house generated more than $650,000 in bond sales—the largest such fundraiser in Monongalia County. Communities that met their goals had their city names painted on bomber aircraft heading into battle.The program remained at the height of its popularity when it broadcast its final episode on June 18, 1944. After 326 episodes spanning eight years, declining health forced John L. Grimes to end the show. He'd achieved what he set out to prove: that working-class Americans had talent worth celebrating, that industrial towns weren't cultural voids, and that employees could become their company's greatest ambassadors.The LegacyThe influence of "It's Wheeling Steel" extended far beyond its final broadcast. Lew Davies, the show's musical arranger, later assisted Lawrence Welk in developing a television variety show that reflected "It's Wheeling Steel's" format and character—family-oriented programming featuring a mix of light classics, popular songs, and wholesome entertainment where regular performers became audience favorites.The Capitol Theatre, where "It's Wheeling Steel" broadcast from 1939 onward, still stands at 1015 Main Street in Wheeling. After nearly two years of closure, the historic venue was purchased by the Wheeling Convention and Visitors Bureau in April 2009 and reopened that September following an $8 million restoration. Today it seats 2,400 people, hosts the Wheeling Symphony Orchestra, and welcomes over 50,000 annual attendees. You can visit it. You can sit in the seats where thousands once gathered to watch their neighbors perform on national radio.All 326 "It's Wheeling Steel" recordings are housed at the West Virginia and Regional History Center at West Virginia University, preserving the voices of steel workers who became radio stars.Timeline of ...
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    25 min
  • Erie, Pennsylvania: The Wall of Water That Killed 36
    Nov 25 2025
    On August 3, 1915, a wall of water tore through downtown Erie, Pennsylvania, at twenty-five miles per hour, destroying three hundred buildings and killing thirty-six to forty people in the city's deadliest disaster. The Mill Creek Flood wasn't an act of God—it was the predictable result of a choice made by a growing American city that buried a powerful creek beneath culverts and ignored repeated warnings.For decades, Erie built over Mill Creek to maximize developable land, covering the nineteen-mile waterway with approximately twenty culverts through downtown. When 5.77 inches of rain fell in just hours, debris clogged a critical culvert at 26th and State Streets, creating a four-block reservoir. At 8:45 PM, the culvert gave way, unleashing a twenty-five-foot wall of water that destroyed everything in its three-mile path.Tonight's episode explores how Erie learned from catastrophe, building the Mill Creek Tube—an engineering marvel that has protected the city for over a century. It's a story of tragedy, resilience, and the price of ignoring nature's power.Show Notes:On the night of August 3, 1915, downtown Erie, Pennsylvania, experienced its worst natural disaster when a twenty-five-foot wall of water tore through the city at twenty-five miles per hour. The Mill Creek Flood killed thirty-six to forty people, destroyed three hundred buildings, and left hundreds of families homeless. But this wasn't a random act of nature—it was the predictable result of decades of urban development that ignored the power of a nineteen-mile creek flowing through the heart of a growing industrial city.The City That Buried Its CreekBy 1915, Erie had become known as the "Boiler and Engine Capital of the World," with factories lining Lake Erie's southern shore and a dense population of German, Irish, Polish, and Italian immigrant workers. As the city grew, officials made a choice common to American cities of that era: they buried Mill Creek beneath approximately twenty culverts and ten bridges, maximizing developable land downtown. The philosophy was simple—if you have a creek running through valuable real estate, you don't preserve it. You bury it.Mill Creek itself had considerable power. With a steep gradient dropping two hundred feet over its nineteen-mile length and a compact thirteen-square-mile watershed, heavy rainfall funneled downstream fast. The creek had flooded before—in 1878 and 1893—but city officials assumed the culverts would be sufficient. They were wrong.The Storm and the Breaking PointOn August 3, 1915, between 3 PM and 9 PM, a succession of storms unleashed 5.77 inches of rain over the Mill Creek watershed. As saturated soil collapsed along creek banks, debris swept downstream—trees, barns, chicken coops, outhouses—all funneling toward the narrow culvert at 26th and State Streets in downtown Erie.For five hours, Fire Chief John McMahon and police officers tried to clear the debris blockage. They used dynamite. It didn't work. Behind the clogged culvert, an artificial lake formed—four city blocks flooded, water thirty feet deep in places.At 8:45 PM, the culvert gave way.What followed was catastrophic. A twenty-five-foot wall of water raced through downtown Erie at twenty-five miles per hour, destroying everything in a three-mile path. Houses were lifted from foundations and carried blocks away. Railcars and streetcars were knocked off their tracks. State Street businesses from 19th to 7th Streets suffered extensive damage. The floodwaters carried a horrifying mix—mud, building debris, twisted automobiles, tree trunks, cattle carcasses, and human remains.Heroes and VictimsFire Chief John McMahon became one of the flood's most tragic victims. While directing rescue efforts at East 23rd and French Streets, McMahon had just handed a blind woman through a window to safety when the house was swept away with him and three firefighters still on board. The men rode the roof for four blocks before it disintegrated. Firefighter John Donovan, 25, drowned trying to save McMahon. McMahon survived the night, trapped under twenty feet of debris until a woman heard his cries and alerted rescuers. But his injuries were severe, and seventeen days later, on August 20, 1915, he died from typhoid pneumonia contracted during his ordeal.Erie historian Caroline Reichel remembers stories her father told her. He was twenty years old during the flood and witnessed the grim aftermath—bodies in the water, survivors trapped in trees, the complete destruction of entire neighborhoods. The flood's casualty reports varied between thirty-six and more than forty deaths, with property damage estimated between three and five million dollars in 1915 currency.Engineering a SolutionErie learned its lesson. Within a year, the city commissioned one of the most ambitious flood control projects of its era. Between 1917 and 1923, workers constructed the Mill Creek Tube—a reinforced concrete conduit twenty-two feet wide, nineteen...
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    22 min
  • Athens, Tennessee: The 1946 GI Rebellion and the Limits of Armed Reform
    Nov 18 2025
    On the night of August 1, 1946, hundreds of World War II veterans laid siege to the McMinn County jail in Athens, Tennessee. Armed with rifles, Thompson submachine guns, and dynamite, they surrounded the brick building where corrupt county officials had locked themselves inside with stolen ballot boxes. What followed was six hours of sustained gunfire, three dynamite explosions that flipped police cruisers and collapsed the jail's front porch, and ultimately the surrender of Sheriff Pat Mansfield's deputies. Miraculously, despite the intensity of the firefight, no one was killed.The Battle of Athens represents one of the most dramatic and controversial episodes in American political history—a moment when citizens took up arms against their own government and won the immediate tactical victory. But this episode isn't a simple story of heroic veterans defeating corruption. It's a far more complicated tale about the limits of both legal reform and extralegal action, about democratic institutions failing and violence nearly spawning anarchy, and about how armed rebellion—even successful armed rebellion—rarely produces the lasting change its participants hope for.To understand what happened that August night, you need to understand how McMinn County became what one historian called "the most corrupt county in Tennessee." In 1936, Paul Cantrell rode Franklin Roosevelt's coattails to become sheriff and discovered something profitable: Tennessee sheriffs earned fees per arrest rather than salaries. The system created perverse incentives. Deputies began arresting anyone for anything—driving too slow, driving too fast, spitting on sidewalks, fabricated traffic violations. Travelers passing through on Highway 11 were pulled over and charged arbitrary fines. No receipt, no appeal, just pay or sit in jail. Between 1936 and 1946, these fees collected nearly $300,000 (roughly $5 million in today's dollars).But the corruption ran deeper than predatory policing. Starting in 1940, Cantrell's machine began seizing ballot boxes on election night before votes could be counted publicly. Deputies would lock themselves in the county jail with the ballots and count them in secret. When they emerged hours later—surprise—Cantrell and his candidates always won by comfortable margins. Opposition candidates tried everything: poll watchers (blocked by deputies), legal challenges (dismissed by friendly judges), appeals to state and federal officials (ignored). By 1942, there was no legal path to reform because Cantrell's machine controlled the sheriff's office, the county court, the election commission, and the ballot counting itself.Then World War II ended and 3,000 veterans returned home to find that the corruption had only worsened. Many veterans were targeted immediately—arrested on fabricated charges, beaten by deputies, extorted for their mustering-out pay. By early 1946, a group of veterans decided they had one option left: field their own slate of candidates and ensure their votes were actually counted. They formed the GI Non-Partisan League and nominated Knox Henry, a decorated veteran of the North African campaign, to run against Paul Cantrell for sheriff. Their slogan: "Your Vote Will Be Counted As Cast."On August 1, 1946—Election Day—tensions exploded. Sheriff Mansfield brought in 200-300 armed deputies from out of state to control the polls. By afternoon, GI poll-watchers were being beaten and arrested. At 3:45 PM, an elderly Black farmer named Tom Gillespie was shot in the back by deputy Windy Wise when Gillespie attempted to vote. As polls closed at 4:00 PM, Cantrell's deputies seized the ballot boxes and locked themselves inside the county jail to count votes in secret—exactly as they'd done for a decade.But this time was different. A group of veterans, led by Marine Bill White, broke into the National Guard armory and armed themselves with rifles, ammunition, and Thompson submachine guns. By 9:00 PM, several hundred armed veterans surrounded the jail and demanded the ballot boxes be released. When deputies refused, the veterans opened fire. The battle raged for six hours. Finally, around 2:30 AM, the veterans began throwing dynamite. Three massive explosions shattered the night—one flipped Sheriff Mansfield's cruiser upside down, another collapsed the jail's front porch. At 2:50 AM, the deputies inside surrendered and handed over the ballot boxes.The immediate aftermath nearly descended into mob violence. Crowds gathered, some seeking revenge against deputies who had brutalized them for years. Police cars were overturned and set ablaze. Several deputies were beaten. Veteran leaders worked through the night to restore order. By dawn, Athens was quiet. The ballot boxes were counted under veteran supervision, and the results were clear: Knox Henry and the GI candidates had won by two-to-one margins. The people had finally voted—and this time, their votes had been counted.But here's the ...
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    13 min
  • Osage County, Oklahoma: The Oil Murders That Created the FBI
    Nov 11 2025
    The Wealthiest People Per Capita in the World Were Being Murdered for Their Money.In the early 1920s, members of the Osage Nation in Oklahoma drove Pierce-Arrow automobiles, built terra-cotta mansions, and employed white chauffeurs. Oil discovered beneath their reservation made them spectacularly wealthy—each tribal member received quarterly royalty payments that reached $3,350 by 1925 (equivalent to over $60,000 today). National newspapers called them "the richest people in the world per capita."Then they began dying under mysterious circumstances.Between 1921 and 1926, at least sixty Osage people were murdered—shot, poisoned, and bombed in their homes. The true death toll likely reaches into the hundreds. Local law enforcement conducted cursory investigations that went nowhere. Coroners issued convenient rulings. Private investigators hired by the Osage were themselves murdered. The conspiracy was so vast and so protected by local authorities that it required the federal government to invent modern criminal investigation just to crack it.This is the story of the Osage Murders—also known as the "Reign of Terror"—a systematic campaign to steal oil wealth through murder that became the FBI's first major homicide case and helped transform a small investigative bureau into America's premier law enforcement agency.Episode 174 explores how greed, systemic racism, and legal exploitation created conditions for one of the most chilling murder conspiracies in American history.The Reign of Terror1897: Oil discovered on Osage Reservation in northeastern Oklahoma1906: Osage Allotment Act establishes "headrights"—equal shares of mineral wealth for each tribal member1921: Guardianship system established, automatically declaring full-blood Osage "incompetent" to manage their own wealthMay 1921: Anna Brown found murdered with bullet in back of her head1923: Lizzie Q (Anna's mother) dies under suspicious circumstances; Rita and Bill Smith killed in house explosionMarch 1923: Osage Tribal Council appeals to federal government for help1925: Bureau of Investigation (later FBI) takes jurisdiction; J. Edgar Hoover sends investigatorsJanuary 1926: Ernest Burkhart confesses, implicating uncle William K. Hale as conspiracy mastermindOctober 1926: Hale convicted and sentenced to life imprisonment1929: Final convictions of co-conspirators1947: Hale paroled despite Osage protestsHow Murder Created Modern Law EnforcementThe Osage murder investigation transformed American law enforcement. When twenty-nine-year-old J. Edgar Hoover took over the struggling Bureau of Investigation in 1924, he saw the case as an opportunity to prove federal investigative capabilities. The Bureau deployed undercover agents posing as cattlemen, insurance salesmen, and herbal medicine peddlers—techniques that became standard FBI procedure.The investigation revealed systemic corruption in local Oklahoma authorities. County sheriffs were on Hale's payroll. Prosecutors socialized with suspects. Evidence disappeared from evidence rooms. The case demonstrated that certain crimes required federal jurisdiction when local power structures were complicit in the criminal conspiracy itself.For the Osage Nation, the murders left devastating scars that persist today. Approximately 26% of Osage headrights remain in non-Osage hands, a direct legacy of the murder conspiracies and corrupt guardianship system. Many murder victims were never identified. Most conspirators escaped prosecution entirely.The guardianship system—which allowed white "guardians" to steal millions from Osage accounts—operated with legal sanction. A 1924 investigation documented that guardians had stolen at least $8 million directly from Osage people in just three years. Full-blooded Osage were automatically declared "incompetent" regardless of education or business acumen, with guardians controlling purchases "as small as a tube of toothpaste."Congress eventually reformed guardianship laws, but only after the damage was done. The case highlighted how systemic racism and legal frameworks could enable mass theft and murder while local communities looked away. As this episode explores, the most dangerous conspiracies aren't hidden in shadows—they operate in plain sight while authorities refuse to see.Verified Historical SourcesThis episode draws on extensively documented historical records, FBI case files, academic research, and eyewitness accounts:Federal Bureau of Investigation Official Case FilesThe FBI maintains comprehensive documentation of the Osage murder investigations, including original case files, agent reports, and trial transcripts. This was the Bureau's first major homicide investigation and helped establish modern investigative protocols. Available through the FBI's official history archives.Oklahoma Historical Society - Encyclopedia of Oklahoma HistoryJon D. May's definitive article "Osage Murders" provides detailed documentation of the conspiracy, trials, and ...
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    22 min
  • Kalaupapa, Hawai'i: The Saint of Exiles and Hansen's Disease Colony
    Nov 4 2025
    Between 1866 and 1969, the Kingdom and later State of Hawai'i sent over eight thousand people diagnosed with Hansen's disease—then known as leprosy—to permanent exile on the Kalaupapa peninsula on the island of Moloka'i. This breathtaking but isolated landscape, surrounded by the tallest sea cliffs on Earth, became both a prison and, unexpectedly, a community. The vast majority of those exiled were Native Hawaiian, torn from their families by a policy known as ma'i ho'oka'awale 'ohana—the family-separating disease. Yet from this tragedy emerged extraordinary stories of resilience, dignity, and hope. When a Belgian priest named Father Damien arrived in 1873, he chose radical solidarity over safety, sharing meals, pipes, and daily life with the exiled residents. His courage drew global attention and brought vital support, including Mother Marianne Cope and the Franciscan Sisters, who created sanctuaries of care for women and children. Brother Joseph Dutton, a Civil War veteran seeking redemption, spent over thirty years running the Baldwin Home for Boys. These outsiders joined the residents in building a vibrant society complete with baseball teams, musical bands, political protests, and fierce cultural preservation—a community that insisted on being seen as whole human beings, not just cases of disease.Timeline of Events1830s: Hansen's disease bacterium arrives in Hawaiian Islands, likely through foreign tradeJanuary 3, 1865: King Kamehameha V signs "Act to Prevent the Spread of Leprosy," authorizing forced exileJanuary 6, 1866: First twelve patients exiled to Kalaupapa peninsula on Moloka'iMay 10, 1873: Father Damien De Veuster arrives at Kalaupapa settlement1883: Mother Marianne Cope and Franciscan Sisters arrive in Hawaii from Syracuse, New York1888: Mother Marianne Cope arrives at Kalaupapa settlement to establish Bishop Home1886: Brother Joseph Dutton arrives as Damien's assistantDecember 1884: Father Damien discovers he has contracted Hansen's disease1889: Father Damien dies; becomes international icon of sacrifice1893: Hawaiian Kingdom overthrown; isolation laws enforced more strictly1897: Over 700 Kalaupapa residents sign Kū'ē Petitions protesting U.S. annexation1946: Revolutionary sulfone drugs cure Hansen's disease for the first timeApril 11, 1969: State of Hawai'i officially abolishes quarantine lawDecember 22, 1980: Kalaupapa National Historical Park established by U.S. Congress2009: Father Damien canonized as Catholic saint2012: Mother Marianne Cope canonized as Catholic saintThe medical breakthrough of the 1940s rendered a century of forced isolation obsolete, yet many residents chose to remain in the only community where they felt truly understood and accepted.Historical SignificanceKalaupapa's story illuminates the intersection of colonial medicine, Indigenous sovereignty, and human rights. The Hawaiian Kingdom's segregation policy, heavily influenced by Western advisors responding to devastating population decline from foreign diseases, tore apart the fundamental Hawaiian value of 'ohana (family). Yet the residents transformed their exile into an act of cultural preservation. Their 1897 protest against U.S. annexation demonstrated extraordinary political consciousness from people the law had declared legally dead. The settlement became a center for preserving Hawaiian language, chant, and music when these were being suppressed elsewhere. Today, as the World Health Organization works toward eliminating Hansen's disease globally, Kalaupapa remains a powerful reminder that the fight isn't just against bacteria—it's against centuries of stigma and discrimination. The story resonates with other historical isolation sites worldwide and offers crucial lessons for modern responses to infectious disease, from HIV/AIDS to COVID-19.Sources & Further ReadingKa 'Ohana O Kalaupapa: https://kalaupapaohana.org - Organization of Kalaupapa descendants preserving history and cultureKalaupapa National Historical Park: https://www.nps.gov/kala - National Park Service official siteOlivia Robello Breitha Oral Histories: Damien & Marianne of Moloka'i Education Center archives"The Colony: The Harrowing True Story of the Exiles of Molokai" by John TaymanWorld Health Organization Hansen's Disease Program: https://www.who.int/health-topics/leprosyWant to dive deeper into America's forgotten communities? Subscribe to Hometown History wherever you get your podcasts. Every hometown has a story worth remembering.Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/hometownhistory/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands
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    22 min
  • Africatown, Alabama: The Last Slave Ship and the Town Built by Survivors
    Oct 28 2025
    In July 1860, under cover of darkness, 110 West Africans were smuggled into Mobile Bay aboard the Clotilda—the last known slave ship to reach American shores. Arriving fifty years after Congress banned the transatlantic slave trade and made it punishable by death, these captives were quickly hidden and distributed to local plantations before the ship was burned and sunk to destroy the evidence. But this story doesn't end with enslavement. After emancipation in 1865, a group of thirty-two survivors did something extraordinary: they pooled their resources, purchased land north of Mobile, and founded their own community. They called it Africa Town—a settlement where they could preserve their language, customs, and dignity on American soil. This episode explores how these remarkable men and women, torn from kingdoms in present-day Benin and Nigeria, built a thriving community that still exists today, more than 160 years later.Timeline of EventsJuly 1860: The schooner Clotilda arrives in Mobile Bay with 110 enslaved West Africans, the last known illegal slave shipment to AmericaJuly 1860: Captain William Foster burns and scuttles the Clotilda in the Mobile River to hide evidence of the crime1865: Civil War ends; Clotilda survivors gain freedom after five years of slavery in Alabama1866-1870: Approximately 32 survivors purchase land and establish Africa Town (later Africatown) north of Mobile1872: Community builds Union Baptist Church, their first institution1910: Mobile County Training School founded, becoming educational center for Africatown1927-1931: Author Zora Neale Hurston interviews Cudjo Lewis (Oluale Kossola), documenting his firsthand account1935: Cudjo Lewis dies at age 94, the last known survivor of the transatlantic slave trade in AmericaMay 2019: Archaeologists discover and verify the wreck of the Clotilda in the Mobile RiverJuly 2023: Africatown Heritage House opens, featuring "Clotilda: The Exhibition" and artifacts from the shipThis remarkable settlement emerged during Reconstruction, when most formerly enslaved people had no resources and faced violent opposition. The Africatown founders defied these odds, creating schools, churches, and self-governing institutions while maintaining cultural connections to West Africa.Historical SignificanceAfricatown represents the only known American community founded and led entirely by African-born survivors of the slave trade. Unlike other Black settlements of the era, residents spoke Yoruba, Ewe, and Fon languages into the 1950s and maintained West African naming traditions, burial practices, and storytelling customs. The community's existence challenges common narratives about slavery's erasure of African identity—these founders consciously rebuilt pieces of home from memory. Zora Neale Hurston's 1927 interviews with Cudjo Lewis, published as "Barracoon" in 2018, provide one of the only firsthand accounts of the Middle Passage and the experience of direct capture from Africa. The 2019 discovery of the Clotilda's wreckage, verified by the Alabama Historical Commission, has sparked renewed interest in Africatown's history and the ongoing work of descendant communities to preserve their ancestors' legacy. Today, Africatown faces environmental challenges from industrial development but continues as a living memorial to resilience, self-determination, and cultural survival against extraordinary odds.Sources & Further ReadingNational Museum of African American History and Culture: Slave Wrecks Project and Clotilda research initiativehttps://nmaahc.si.edu/explore/initiatives/slave-wrecks-project/africatown-alabama-usaAfricatown Heritage House & History Museum of Mobile: "Clotilda: The Exhibition" featuring artifacts from the ship and stories of the 110 survivorshttps://clotilda.comAlabama Historical Commission: Official archaeological discovery and verification of the Clotilda shipwreck (2019)https://www.mobilecountyal.gov/africatown-heritage-house-2Africatown Heritage Preservation Foundation: Descendant community organization preserving Africatown history and culturehttps://africatownhpf.org"Barracoon: The Story of the Last 'Black Cargo'" by Zora Neale Hurston: Published 2018, based on 1927-1931 interviews with Cudjo Lewishttps://www.zoranealehurston.com/books/barracoonSmithsonian Magazine: "The 'Clotilda,' the Last Known Slave Ship to Arrive in the U.S., Is Found" (May 2019)https://www.smithsonianmag.com/arts-culture/zora-neale-hurston-barracoon-last-survivor-slave-trade-180968944Subscribe to Hometown History every Tuesday for forgotten American stories.Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/hometownhistory/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands
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    30 min
  • Exeter, Rhode Island: America's Last Vampire Exhumation
    Sep 26 2025
    On a cold March morning in 1892, five men gathered at Chestnut Hill Baptist Church cemetery in Exeter, Rhode Island, to open a family crypt. Inside lay the body of Mercy Lena Brown, who had died just two months earlier from consumption—tuberculosis. What happened next became one of the most documented cases of vampire folklore in American history. Mercy's body appeared strangely preserved in the frozen crypt, and when examined, liquid blood was found in her heart. Desperate to save her dying brother Edwin, the townspeople removed Mercy's heart and liver, burned them on a nearby rock, and mixed the ashes into water for Edwin to drink. This wasn't superstition in the distant past—this happened just six years before the dawn of the 20th century, in a time when fear and folklore still filled the gaps where medical science couldn't reach.The Brown family had been devastated by tuberculosis. George Brown, a hardworking farmer, lost his wife Mary Eliza in 1883, his daughter Mary Olive in 1884, and his daughter Mercy in January 1892. His only surviving child, Edwin, was wasting away from the same disease. When neighbors whispered that one of the dead Browns must be "feeding" on Edwin from beyond the grave, George reluctantly agreed to the exhumation. The ritual didn't save Edwin—he died just weeks later on May 2, 1892, at age 24. But the story captured international attention. Newspapers from the New York World to the London Times covered the "last American vampire," and scholars later discovered newspaper clippings about Mercy's exhumation among Bram Stoker's research notes for Dracula.Timeline of Events1883: Mary Eliza Brown, George Brown's wife, dies of consumption (tuberculosis)1884: Mary Olive Brown, age 20, dies of the same disease; obituaries call her "a bright light extinguished far too soon"January 1892: Mercy Lena Brown, age 19, dies of consumption; her body is placed in the family crypt because the ground is too frozen to dig a graveMarch 17, 1892: Townspeople exhume three Brown family members; Mercy's body appears preserved, with liquid blood in her heartMarch 17, 1892: Mercy's heart and liver are burned; ashes are mixed with water for Edwin to drink as a folk cureMay 2, 1892: Edwin Brown dies at age 24, despite the ritualBetween 1786 and 1892, at least 80 documented cases of vampire exhumations occurred throughout New England as tuberculosis ravaged rural communities. Without understanding germ theory or bacterial transmission, people turned to folklore when entire families fell ill one after another.Historical SignificanceMercy Brown's exhumation represents the collision between folk belief and emerging medical science in late 19th-century America. While germ theory was being proven in laboratories, it hadn't yet reached rural villages where people watched their neighbors die in horrifying patterns. When families seemed to waste away one member at a time, even after burials, folklore provided the only explanation that made sense: the dead were feeding on the living. The ritual performed on Mercy Brown wasn't unique—similar exhumations happened across New England for over a century—but it was among the last, occurring in an era when newspapers and scientific skepticism were beginning to replace oral tradition and superstition.Today, we understand that cold weather naturally slows decomposition, that skin shrinkage makes hair and nails appear to grow after death, and that liquid blood in the heart is normal in early decomposition. But in 1892 Exeter, Rhode Island, these signs confirmed the community's worst fears. George Brown lived another 30 years, long enough to see germ theory proven and the first TB vaccines tested. Mercy's grave in Chestnut Hill Cemetery is still visited today, sometimes vandalized, sometimes adorned with flowers and notes from people who see in her story a reminder of how grief can cloud reason and how humans seek hope even in ashes.Sources & Further ReadingProvidence Journal (March 1892): Contemporary newspaper coverage of the exhumation (Rhode Island Historical Society Digital Archives)Smithsonian Magazine: "The Great New England Vampire Panic" (https://www.smithsonianmag.com)Rhode Island Historical Society: Mercy Brown exhibit and archival materials (https://www.rihs.org)Bell, Michael E.: Food for the Dead: On the Trail of New England's Vampires (University Press of New England, 2011)Tucker, Abigail: "The Last American Vampire," Smithsonian Magazine, October 2012Support this podcast at — https://redcircle.com/hometownhistory/exclusive-contentAdvertising Inquiries: https://redcircle.com/brands
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    11 min