Stray Bones
True stories and documentaries that should not stay buried
Somewhat familial
Richer with blood: a personal connection to each of these mainly unknown true stories,
brought to life with family photos, journals and personal uncoverings.
Hattie's 1904
Hattie Philby's entries in her 1904 diary in Iowa City are brief. Just a teen's notes. But it speaks volumes on us, today. Iowa's capitol fire. The interurban. A racist world's fair. Geronimo. Pentacrest scuffles. A dead presidential candidate. Just a singular year. But it was not, at all.
Gotch
Scams on dirt roads to fleece the locals. Gouged eyes and broken ankles. The Strangler. A massive Russian and global stage. Frank Gotch, a farmer from my home town helped birth performance wrestling (WWF), Olympian and folk by taking on the world—and winning.
This Midwest Life
A cut-out-letter death threat. A missing Iranian and the FBI. A murdered banker. Miss Missouri and a creaky elevator. A ghost hunt. The WienerMobile. Things happen in an investigative journalism and magazine career. From 5-star to back-alley to One Eyed Jake.
Somewhat stranger
Sometimes what you think you know isn't the part worth knowing. It's the unknown tales beneath.
And when those truths rise to the surface, you will never think the same way again.
Coming as podcast/vlogcasts.
Such a lovely dance. Such a lovely death
Her life was a dance of misfortune. Poor. Headstrong. She broke norms, channeling wind and water to dance "free.” She showed her ankles. Though society never accepted her, many were inspired. Misfortune, however, never let go. Her children, tragically drowned. Husband, hung. Love, ever evasive. And at the end, a poetically horrendous twist of fate.
Big Nose George and the Dead Man's Shoes
He wasn't the only Big Nose outlaw in the Wild West. There was also Big Nose Kate who, truth be told, was more feared. But George's run of stagecoach robberies ended in horrible fashion. An inept deputy (think Barney Fife) triggered townsfolk to take matters into their own hands. Oh man, did they ever. Though the shoes George was turned into were actually quite stylin'... Good enough to be worn by the governor.
Born Dead
To start, she should not have lived. Neither she nor her drug-addicted mother were expected to survive Clara’s birth. Both did. Her mother also survived falling out of a window though it made her mentally unstable. She tried to kill Clara with a butcher knife, yet she was the only one Clara felt she had in life. A best friend burned to death, screaming, in Clara's arms. She was 10. No money. No girlfriends. Tomboy friends: until they sexually attacked her. Same with her father. Same with producers. When her mother died, Clara jumped into the grave with her. Her whole life, she was never heard. Perhaps it is fitting then that she was one of the biggest stars of the silent film era. They sold her image for gold. But the real her went unknown.
Affairs, Nudity, Napoleon and... Nudity
He was famous for his pen. Infamous for his penis. He wrote some masterpieces, sure, like Les Mis and Hunchback of Notre Dame. But those were slow slogs. He spent his energy on political barbs aimed at Napoleon. And mainly, he was sexually insatiable with affair upon affair. Even strangers in the streets. Perhaps he owed it to his godfather (technically, his mother’s illicit lover who was executed by Napoleon while hiding in an abandoned convent). He fled to exile with his wife on one arm—and a mistress on the other. He wrote naked, to force himself to focus. Though that seems counterintuitive. A life of lust, politics and a love for the downtrodden. In fact, when he died, the streets flooded with the “downtrodden”: hundreds of prostitutes paying their respects around the Arc de Triomphe.
Madness, Monsters and Grisly Death
Early in life came the visions. Skeletons dripping from the grave. The devil. Monsters. They pursued him his whole life. Perhaps that’s why he squandered love. Ran off with underage girls. Affairs. Illegitimate children. Squandered money, forever broke and fleeing debt collectors. He attacked god. And despite his talent, never found writing success. Although his wife Mary did, when he and his writing friends wrote ghost stories one night and she birthed Frankenstein. His fate was to sail his boat one stormy night and never return. His fish-eaten body was found on the beach and buried there. His friends later dug it up and burned it in a pyre. But one piece survived it all….
The Haunting Pilgrim Soul
Ahh, true love. How beautiful. Or, how torturous, if hovered forever just painfully out of reach. Despite a lifetime of William’s proposals, his friend Maud always said no. But she remained close enough to tantalize. “You make beautiful poetry out of your unhappiness. Poets should never marry,” she said. Perhaps she was right. Toward the end, his heartbreak led to perhaps his most famous lines…