ENGLUND: Hidden away in news reports from America's past
are tales so frightening that they must be true.
I'm Robert England.
Join me on a journey
into the dark shadows of our nation's history
to uncover a trilogy of stories as terrifying as they are real.
♪♪
[ Telephone ringing ]
A mechanical marvel torments its owner.
Stop calling me!
Enough is enough!
A shadowy killer authors a letter
that ignites panic.
And an obsession drives a scientist to desperate lengths.
No, this cannot be!
Brace yourself for "True Terror."
[ Man screams ]
[ Wind howling ]
To make sense of a cryptic message,
it helps to identify who it's from.
But in the realm of the macabre,
the sender can be scarier than the message itself.
The three stories I have for you now
reveal just how uncertain life can get
when that sender is of another world.
Our first story takes us back 140 years,
a time when a radical new invention
promised to make life better.
The year -- 1878.
And one of the nation's first telephone customers
is primed to learn a horrifying lesson.
Just about through, Mr. O'Connor.
Excellent, Mr. Gable. Thank you.
That's it. You have a working telephone.
Wow. Now, tell me again, how does this work, exactly?
You just turn the crank...
Mm-hmm. ...and it rings the other phone.
Right.
You speak through the mouthpiece.
J.J. O'Connor's office is in the heart of Newark, New Jersey.
He's the manager of the Holy Sepulcher Cemetery,
located two miles away.
His phone promises to be a godsend.
He and his wife, Doris, have no reason to suspect
that his direct line to a graveyard
might be a dangerous idea.
You'll hear better the closer it is.
Right.
This is 1878,
and O'Connor becomes one of the first of 3,000 people
in the United States to have a phone.
Really, it's only been like two years
since Alexander Graham Bell invented the thing.
The very first phone book was published that year,
but it was only one page.
Because there are so few listings,
no one needs a number yet.
The calls go through a central switchboard.
Just like this.
That's all there is to it.
O'Connor's phone is different than most phones of the era.
He doesn't need a switchboard.
His phone goes directly to the cemetery.
You turn the crank, and it makes the other phone ring.
[ Telephone ringing ]
♪♪
Hello?
J.J., is that you?
Phineas, yes!
Yes, it's me.
[ Chuckles ] I can hear you so clearly.
ENGLUND: Phineas Rowe runs the cemetery's office.
This will do wonders for our business.
Oh, indeed. It is worth every single penny.
I honestly can't believe it!
Neither can I.
It's amazing.
♪♪
J.J. O'Connor loves his new marvel.
♪♪
Thank you very much for your years of service.
He actually saves hundreds of dollars
by dismissing his whole crew of messengers.
Yes, Phineas?
Ordering the cemetery staff to dig a new grave
no longer takes hours, but minutes.
And the funeral is tomorrow at 11:00.
You have it completely under control.
I trust you 100 percent.
Alright, thank you very much.
♪♪
Care to have lunch? Yes.
Personal trips to the cemetery become almost unnecessary,
giving him more time to spend at home with Doris.
Marvelous, isn't it?
♪♪
ENGLUND: The phone is everything
J.J. O'Connor craved it would be.
[ Owl hoots ]
But when dealing with matters of the dead,
one should be extra careful what they wish for.
♪♪
[ Telephone ringing ]
♪♪
[ Ringing continues ]
Hm?
Who'd be calling now?
[ Ringing continues ]
I have no idea.
Well, go find out.
[ Ringing continues ]
[ Static crackling ]
Phineas, is that you?
[ Crackling continues ]
Phineas, is something wrong? Hello?
If you're there, say something!
[ Crackling continues ]
[ Telephone ringing ]
♪♪
Hello?
[ Static crackling ]
Hello?!
Hello? Is someone ther--[ Crackling continues ]
Stupid thing must be broken.
ENGLUND: While the unknown is something that can strike fear,
the first night of mystery calls
appear to only elicit O'Connor's unbridled irritation.
This is outrageous, gentlemen.
Doris and I got no sleep whatsoever.
What's going on?
I've checked both of the telephones, sir,
and there is nothing wrong with either one of them.
And none of us was in the office after 6:00 p.m., J.J.
I assure you, we all left at the same time.
Well, then, obviously, some vandal broke in
and is messing with the thing.
Right? Someone is playing a prank on me.
Secure the office.
Put extra locks on the doors and windows.
♪♪
O'Connor was convinced some pranksters broke in
and used his phone, and after that,
he was going to make certain it wasn't going to happen again.
Yah![ Horse nickers ]
♪♪
[ Telephone ringing ]
REBEL: And despite the added precautions,
the strange calls continue for the next six nights.
[ Ringing continues ]
Hello?Hello?Hello?
Hello? Can you hear me?Hello?
Hello?Hello?!
If you're there, just say something, please!
Stop calling me!
Stop.
This isn't funny!
You can imagine J.J. O'Connor's frustration.
His new phone is supposed to be making his life easier,
and instead, it's driving him crazy.
ENGLUND: There's no sign an intruder has entered the cemetery office.
So for a man who believes only in the rational,
an unsolvable mystery proves most disconcerting.
My phone rings tonight,
the prankster's footprints here tomorrow.
And what if you get a call and the flour's untouched?
That will not happen.
For your sake, I hope not.
♪♪
[ Clock ticking ]
[ Telephone ringing ]
♪♪
[ Ringing continues ]
♪♪
This has to stop, J.J.!
I know. I know.
I can't take much more.
I know.
♪♪
ENGLUND: A week of sleepless nights and the unknown --
a week into madness,
for which daylight offers no salvation.
♪♪
[ Gasps ]
[ Sighs ]
Hello.
Ghosts don't leave footprints.
Ghosts?
Don't make me laugh.
♪♪
[ Gasps ]
Easy, J.J.
Just need a signature.
Almost gave me a heart attack, Phineas.
Sorry, old man.
It's my own fault.
Thanks, J.J.
REBEL: Under the right circumstances, even the most logical person
has to believe in the possibility of the supernatural.
♪♪
O'Connor is desperate for an explanation,
so he has no other choice
but to spend the night in the cemetery office.
[ Creaking ]
♪♪
ENGLUND: But this is a decision that has O'Connor primed
to learn an important lesson.
♪♪
There is only one kind of person who can sleep in a cemetery.
♪♪
[ Man screams ]
ENGLUND: Newark, New Jersey, 1878.
For weeks, a mystery caller
has been keeping 36-year-old J.J. O'Connor awake.
Desperate for it to stop,
he decides to spend the night in the cemetery office.
But sleeping at the graveyard
means no one will be resting in peace.
♪♪
[ Door creaks ]
[ Footsteps ]
Ea-- Easy, son! It's just me!
What are you doing here?
I brought you some food.
[ Gun uncocks ]
Thanks.
ERDEL: Stories of ghosts haunting cemeteries
aren't as common as you think.
Paranormal experts say that spirits haunt the places
where they lived, not where they were buried.
ENGLUND: If anyone would know if a cemetery is haunted,
who better to ask than the gravedigger?
I appreciate the food.
But you've been here so long, you -- you know something.
Don't you?
A-Anything?
You don't always see them at night.
But they're here.
You can feel it.
Some don't want to be here.
They don't want to be dead.
Those are the ones you can see.
The restless ones.
♪♪
One of them know how to use your telephone, Mr. O'Connor.
Well, ghosts don't exist, old man.
♪♪
Then who's calling you?
♪♪
[ Dog barks ]
[ Cat yowls ]
O'Connor does his best to keep vigil, but he dozes off.
[ Sighs ]
Now, when he wakes up,
he discovers that the phone receiver is off the hook.
♪♪
Idiot.
[ Gulps ]
What did you expect?
[ Chuckles ]
[ Screams ]
♪♪
[ Gasps ]
MURPHY: By 4:00 a.m., O'Connor has had enough.
Other than in his dream,
no one has come near the cemetery phone.
But that doesn't mean the haunting has stopped.
[ Crickets chirping ]
[ Telephone ringing ]
ENGLUND: It's funny how what one chooses to believe and the truth
can so often find themselves at odds.
[ Ringing continues ]
I can't stand it anymore!
Doris...
You can't talk me out of it, J.J.!
Doris, please.
Enough is enough!
[ Ringing continues ]
Doris, we can find another way.
♪♪
[ Ringing continues ]
[ Door slams ]
♪♪
[ Ringing continues ]
[ Ringing stops ]
♪♪
[ Static crackling ]
♪♪
Leave us alone.
♪♪
Please.
♪♪
Please?
[ Crackling continues ]
♪♪
[ Exhales shakily ]
[ Telephone ringing ]
ENGLUND: Night after night,
O'Connor's tortured mind weakens, ready to crack.
[ Indistinct voices whispering ]
[ Ringing continues ]
Can he save his sanity?
Or is it already too late?
[ Ringing continues ]
♪♪
[ Man screams ]
[ Telephone ringing ]
ENGLUND: Over the course of a month in 1878,
mysterious phone calls to J.J. O'Connor
keep coming and coming from the local cemetery.
Convinced he's being tormented by the dead,
he faces the nightly intrusions
with a tenuous grip on his sanity.
[ Breathing shakily ]
[ Ringing continues ]
♪♪
[ Ringing stops ]
[ Ringing resumes ]
♪♪
It sounds crazy,
but the press account is very clear
that he disconnected the phone
and the phone kept ringing.
[ Telephone ringing ]ENGLUND: With every ring,
O'Connor descends deeper into madness.
A man found wonder in technology,
but in the end, lost his temper, his wife,
and, finally, his mind.
Whatever message the calls to J.J. O'Connor
were trying to convey remains a mystery.
I guess there are some things we aren't meant to know.
40 years later,
an entire city received a different kind of message,
one whose meaning was as clear as it was terrifying.
The source -- a form of evil
America had rarely confronted up to that time,
what came to be known as the serial killer.
It's 1919, and the city of New Orleans
is besieged by a madman
slaughtering the innocent at will.
♪♪
His particular method of murder
gives rise to a ghastly nickname.
[ Door creaks ]
♪♪
The Axeman.
What are you doing?!
[ Screams ]
[ Camera shutter clicks ]
WELLS: The Axeman's first victim was in May of 1918.
♪♪
And by March of 1919, he's killed five more people.
MAN: What's this? Number six?
Yep.
Number six.
All of them in the same way, too.
MURPHY: What makes the Axeman so terrifying,
that he seems to randomly choose his victims
by breaking into their homes in the middle of the night
and cutting their throats with a razor blade
or axing them to death while they sleep in their bed.
ENGLUND: With each new victim, the tabloid fodder grows,
one blood-soaked headline after the next.
What's his name?
Uh...
Romano -- Joe.
Joe Romano.
There is a chilling pattern that emerges.
Now, almost all the victims are Italian-American,
and two of them have small grocery stores.
WELLS: Other than that, there's really nothing
that the police can find to link these victims in any way.
Extra, extra! Read all about it!
Axeman murderer takes his eighth victim.
It seems like the Axeman
just wants to inflict pain and terror on his victims.
[ Creaking ]
ENGLUND: The panicked can only hope that the terror will end.
[ Thud, screaming ]
But the city's tormentor
has a more diabolical plan in store.
♪♪
WELLS: On the morning of March 14, 1919...
Extra, extra! Read all about it!
...at the peak of this terror in the city,
this fear and paranoia,
the Axeman actually writes a letter to the Times Picayune,
which they publish, and in that letter,
he gives a very odd promise to the people of New Orleans.
[ Thud, screaming ]
MURPHY: No serial killer has ever telegraphed his plans
of killing a victim,
right down to the hour and even the minute.
This is what makes the Axeman of New Orleans so terrifying.
♪♪
The cops can't find this guy?
This is crazy.
Huh.
Someone's got to stop him.
♪♪
George Columbo is a New Orleans bricklayer.
His friend Carlo Grazioli -- well, he's a dockworker.
They're among the 20,000 Italian immigrants
that are living in the city at this time.
Look what he says here.
He's gonna murder on March 18th,
15 minutes after midnight.
♪♪
ENGLUND: George Columbo isn't the kind of man
who takes a threat lying down.
During the Axeman's reign of terror,
plenty of people did write letters
taunting the Axeman right back.
And the newspaper prints them, too.
Now, this spectacle has everybody reading the paper
to see what happens next.
Extra, extra! Read all about it!
Man challenges Axeman!
ENGLUND: Is challenging a sadistic killer a bold stand
or senseless bravado?
[ Axe slices ]
Either way, the countdown to the fateful day has begun,
and it promises to end in murder.
♪♪
[ Man screams ]
Extra, extra!
Women and children are at danger!
♪♪
ENGLUND: In March of 1919,
a serial killer known as the Axeman
has been tormenting the city of New Orleans for almost a year.
MAN: What are you doing?!
[ Screams ]
♪♪
In a letter printed in the newspaper,
the Axeman warns that he will kill again,
on March 18th at 12:15 a.m.
Extra, extra! Read all about it!
And in that letter,
he gives a very odd promise to the people of New Orleans.
..."in the nether regions"...
The city takes this bizarre warning of jazz music
very seriously.
[ Jazz music plays, indistinct conversations ]
♪♪
In New Orleans that night, everyone was listening to jazz.
People had jazz bands in their homes.
People went to jazz clubs.
It's said that every jazz player in the city
had a job that night.
The city was filled with jazz.
ENGLUND: That night, George Columbo hurries home,
unafraid of the serial killer in his city.
He's publicly invited the Axeman over,
and it would be rude not to be there when he shows up.
[ Crickets chirping ]
♪♪
[ Sighs ]
Alright. 30 minutes to go, you psycho.
♪♪
[ Bottle thuds ]
♪♪
[ Clock ticking ]
[ Floorboards creak ]
♪♪
[ Sighs ] Alright.
♪♪
[ Telephone ringing ]
[ Exhales sharply ]
[ Ringing continues ]
[ Ringing stops ]
Hello?
Carlo: George, it's me.
It's coming up on you know what time.
Everything okay over there?
Yeah, everything's fine. Why wouldn't it be?
[ Receiver clicks ]
[ Sighs ]
♪♪
[ Bottle thuds ]
♪♪
ENGLUND: With each passing minute,
the specter of death draws closer,
as does the fierce resolve to defy it.
[ Clock ticking ]
♪♪
Life is never more intense
than the instant it is threatened.
[ Ticking continues ]
♪♪
[ Dogs barking in distance ]
♪♪
March 18th, at 12:15 a.m. --
the night, the hour, and the minute
marked by a murderous madman --
has arrived.
[ Barking continues ]
[ Footsteps ]
♪♪
[ Footsteps continue ]
[ Door creaks ]
♪♪
[ Breathing shakily ]
[ Quietly ] Come on.
Come on.
[ Footsteps continue ]
[ Dogs barking ]
♪♪
[ Man screams ]
[ Dogs barking ]
[ Footsteps ]
[ Breathing shakily ]
♪♪
[ Door creaks ]
♪♪
[ Shouts ]
[ Thudding ][ Shouting ]
♪♪
[ Bat clatters ]
ENGLUND: In 1919, George Columbo defends himself
against the infamous Axeman of New Orleans.
But he discovers he's made a tragic mistake.
No, no, no, no.
♪♪
MURPHY: There are no reported victims of the Axeman
on March 18, 1919 --
only the tragic death of Carlo Grazioli,
an innocent man
who only came to check on the safety of his friend.
No, Carlo. No, no, no. No, no, no, no!
Carlo. No.
No, no. Carlo!
ENGLUND: After that fateful night,
the Axeman disappeared into the mists of history,
like the fading notes of a jazz solo,
never to be caught
and his murders never to be solved.
Seldom has one killer so petrified an entire city --
proof that fear is an emotion we can't hide from.
In our next story,
evil existed not where a madman cut life violently short,
but where one obsessively tried to prolong it.
Mm.
This -- This is a horrific tale
about a man named Carl Tanzler.
In a small town outside of Dresden, Germany,
young Carl is born into a middle-class family,
where he is destined to live an average, ordinary life.
That is, until a bizarre event changes everything.
♪♪
[ Door slams ]
[ Crickets chirping ]
♪♪
Don't be afraid, Carl.
I would never harm you.
Come to me, boy.
♪♪
Who are you?
I am your family, your blood.
Only, I have been dead a long, long time.
CLARKE: Carl Tanzler wrote in his memoirs that as a boy,
he was visited by a ghost --
an ancestor -- his great-great-aunt --
a woman named Countess Anna Constantia von Cosel.
Give me your hand, Carl.
♪♪
The apparition goes on to tell Carl
about someone he will meet when he is much older
who will change his life.
A beautiful raven-haired Spanish beauty
with long, black hair.
This woman will be the love of your life.
She will be your destiny, Carl.
Do you know what that means?
♪♪
Remember this, always.
♪♪
ENGLUND: The words of the apparition are forever burned
into young Carl Tanzler's brain --
and, more importantly, into his heart.
♪♪
CLARKE: After that, Carl Tanzler and his family
moved from his native Germany to Australia.
He met plenty of women,
but none that he felt he was destined to be with.
As an adult, Carl Tanzler immigrates to the United States.
He ends up in Key West, Florida,
where he works in a hospital as an X-ray technician.
Hm.
I think that, uh --
♪♪
Yes?
ANNA: A beautiful, raven-haired Spanish beauty.
[ Gasps softly ]
ENGLUND: There, in a Key West hospital, appears
the living, breathing fulfillment of the prophecy.
You've been looking at my X-rays and...?
The patient is Maria Elena de Hoyos,
a beautiful 21-year-old woman
being treated for tuberculosis.[ Coughing ]
She came from a poor family
that had emigrated from Cuba to Florida.
I know I'm not a doctor...
but I think I can help you.
♪♪
Thank you.
Maria had a pretty severe case of tuberculosis,
and at that time, TB was often a death sentence.
Mr. Tanzler.
Maria.
You know, I told you to call me "Carl."
ENGLUND: Carl's infatuation is immediate.
He devotes virtually all his attention to Maria.
[ Coughing ]His focus on her
gravitates towards fixation.
Carl never tells Maria about the prophecy
or how he feels about her.
After all,
how do you tell someone that they are your destiny?
♪♪
Maria's condition is getting worse and worse,
and she's withering away
in front of the people that love her the most.
Maria!
Please -- say something.
♪♪
No, this cannot be!
ENGLUND: There is nothing more solitary than grief.
And each of us overcomes it in our own way.
I have some postmortem procedures that I have to do.
Please.
It will only take a few moments.
♪♪
Please...
if you don't mind, close the door.
[ Crying ]
[ Door closes ]
♪♪
ENGLUND: A moment alone with his beloved Maria --
A strange request,
yet seemingly so natural for Carl.
♪♪
[ Sobbing ]
Death is usually the end of a love story --
anystory, for that matter.
But this isn't the end for Carl and his lovely Maria.
In fact, it's just the beginning.
[ Sobbing continues ]
♪♪
[ Man screams ]
We commend you, our dear Maria, to Almighty God.
We entrust you to our creator.
[ Woman sobs ]
ENGLUND: Carl Tanzler had spent his whole life
looking for the woman he believed was his destiny,
but when he finally found his raven-haired Spanish beauty,
she was quickly and cruelly snatched away from him.
Carl insists on paying for Maria's funeral,
and he pays for her to have
a good-size mausoleum at the cemetery.
You're a good man, Carl.
ENGLUND: Death compels us to let go,
but for Carl, saying goodbye is impossible.
♪♪
CLARKE: For years, Carl would go to Maria's grave.
He would spend time with her,
talking to her and praying for her.
This went on day after day, year after year.
But over time, this wasn't enough for Carl.
[ Crickets chirping ]
♪♪
[ Door opens ]
ENGLUND: To fulfill the prophecy made by a long-dead relative,
Carl brings Maria's corpse home.
[ Mid-tempo music plays ]
♪♪
You look beautiful, my love.
Radiant.
CLARKE: What no one knew --
during all those visits to Maria's tomb,
Carl was injecting her body with formaldehyde.
♪♪
At this point, she would be reasonably well preserved.
Certainly, there would be somedeterioration.
♪♪
[ Carl humming ]
Her internal organs, for example,
would have collapsed by now and rotted away.
♪♪
ENGLUND: Carl is finally with the woman he loves --
Maria Elena de Hoyos, his raven-haired Spanish beauty.
No one knew what Carl was up to --
in part, due to
the mausoleum looked perfectly normal from the outside.
Carl was going to work every day at the hospital,
and then he was returning at night to the love of his life.
♪♪
I know most people won't understand our love, Maria.
♪♪
So it'll have to be our secret.
♪♪
ST. AMAND: Even with all that formaldehyde Carl had used
to preserve Maria's body,
he can't completely stop her from deteriorating.
You poor thing.
That's nothing to be embarrassed about.
You just... need a little touch-up.
♪♪
CLARKE: When her eyes rotted,
Carl replaced them with glass eyes.
♪♪
It's just a labor of love.
♪♪
We'll have to watch out for this sort of thing,
I suppose.
When her skin would deteriorate,
he would cover it in silk and seal it with wax.
Just as beautiful as the first day I saw you, my love.
ENGLUND: What the ravages of time and nature destroy,
Carl lovingly does his best to restore.
♪♪
[ Humming ]
Incredibly, Carl lived this way with Maria's corpse
for seven years.
But I've never been so happy in my life.
[ Humming ]
[ Knock on door ]
♪♪
Can I help you, gentlemen?
You Carl Tanzler?
Yes.
We have permission to search the premises.
Step aside, please, sir.
[ Thunder rumbling ]
ENGLUND: The police come calling that day
with warrants and suspicious minds.
They don't care about sacred prophecies or undying love.
It all started with a trip to the cemetery by Maria's father.
He discovered that her coffin was empty.
And since Carl was the only other person
with a key to the mausoleum, they suspected
he might have something to do with the missing body.
ST. AMAND: Carl is charged
with malicious and wanton disfigurement of a burial
for removing Maria's body from her grave.
Believe it or not,
the case against Carl is thrown out
because the statute of limitations for the crime
of stealing a corpse has run out.
ENGLUND: Carl is free, but a broken man now.
The strange prophecy that guided his life is shattered.
♪♪
The love of his life, gone.
♪♪
The authorities take Maria's body
and bury her in a secret location
so that Carl can never find her again.
CLARKE: Carl Tanzler moves away to another part of Florida
after this bizarre incident
and then quietly lives out the rest of his life.
He never repents over what he did to Maria's body.
In his mind, they were meant to be together forever.
♪♪
ST. AMAND: Many years later, a neighbor of Carl's
smells something terrible coming from the inside of his house.
[ Gasps ]
[ Screams ]
Oh, my God. [ Gasps ]
CLARKE: Carl is 75 years old when he's found dead.
When they find his body, he's with a dummy
that he's made up to look like Maria.
It's one last ghoulish note to a very strange love story.
ENGLUND: Ah, the things some people will do
in the name of love.
♪♪
As for you, consider yourself warned.
It only takes one ominous message to darken your destiny,
whether it's from a long dead ancestor,
a sinister stranger,
or from unknown forces beyond our comprehension.
That's something for you to dwell on
until our next descent into true terror.
♪♪