Contents From the Author 1 Your Letters 1 A Quick and Dirty Guide 2 The Fallen Investigate 4 Personal Experiences 7 Trivia 7

A Short Message From the Author

Resurrection Mary, and the cemetery associated

with her, is hands down the most famous legend in the

Chicagoland area. She is the subject of a novel, more

than a few songs, and an indispensable part of any book

on Chicago hauntings. Any of those reasons were

enough to make me hesitant about nominating her for

the subject of this issue, but her inclusion was

inevitable. What I wanted to avoid was the typical

rehash of a well-known story. We’ve heard it a

thousand times: beautiful blond gets picked up, driven

to a cemetery, and then vanishes, etc.

What I’ve chosen to explore instead is the

fascinating folkography of Resurrection Mary. I paid

attention to how the story has changed over the years,

what details have carried on, and who has “borrowed”

from whom. These considerations aside, we owe a debt

of gratitude to Ursula Bielski and Richard T. Crowe, the

undisputed authorities on all things supernatural in

Chicago. Without their work, Resurrection Mary would

just be another obscure spook. g

“She said, ‘Please, please would you dignify my wish? I’m

trying to get to Heaven, could you tell me where that is?’

On a wild Chicago night, with a wind howling white, I caught

my first sign of Resurrection Mary. I was trembling like a leaf, I

was scared beyond belief, after all my conscience ain’t that clear…”

― Ian Hunter, “Resurrection Mary”

Your Letters

In subsequent issues, we hope to print your letters

commenting on what you have read. Only the best

(shortest) letters will be published. Here are two

examples of the kind of letters we’re expecting:

Legends and Lore of Illinois, Your electronic serial is an inspiration to us all. Your word usage is amazing. I am personally going to wallpaper my cell with it.

Bud, Joliet State Prison

Legends and Bore of Illinois, The only thing that keeps your electronic serial from actually being crap is the fact that I printed it out and used it as toilet paper.

Annoyed in Cicero

Please e-mail your letters to

thefallen2@gmail.com and we will try to publish

them. Also, we will read your personal experiences,

but we do not publish unsolicited experiences.

Page 1

A Quick and Dirty Guide to Resurrection Cemetery

Folklorists and ghost enthusiasts alike claim

that Mary’s story dates back to the 1930s, when the

ghost of a burgeoning Polish girl was first seen along

Archer Avenue near Resurrection Cemetery.

According to Kenan Heise, who would later go on to

write a novel about the ghost, “she is a minor cult, a

shared belief and an initiation rite for teenagers. When

you learn to drive… you test the myth’s reality.”

(Chicago Tribune, 29 October 1982)

Richard Crowe originally popularized the story

in the 1970s, when he began collecting firsthand

accounts and theorized that the real-life Mary had

perished in a car accident in the early 1930s. “Mary

supposedly was killed in a car wreck 40 years ago, and

she’s been coming back and going dancing ever since,”

he remarked in a May 13, 1974 article in the Chicago

Tribune. Later, he elaborated that the sightings usually

occurred around 1:30am.

In July 1979, the Tribune published a letter that

claimed the last time the ghost of Mary had been seen

was in August 1976 or 77, by two policemen near the

gate of Resurrection Cemetery. That anonymous writer

was probably referring to the most intriguing event of

all related to this saga: the night that Mary left physical

evidence behind.

Although most accounts of the incident vaguely

refer to a “man” or “someone” at “sometime” having

seen a woman in white clasping the bars of the

cemetery gate, Richard Crowe revealed that the man

in question was none other than Pat Homa, a Justice

police officer who had responded to a trespassing call

the night of August 10, 1976 (Chicago’s Street Guide to

the Supernatural, 2000) and discovered two of the bars

burnt and bent irregularly, with what looked like

finger impressions melted into the bronze.

As crowds began to gather, the Cemetery

Board tried to smooth the bars with blowtorches,

which only made them more conspicuous. Finally,

they removed the bars altogether and sent them off to

be straightened. According to Crowe, the bars were

put back in December 1978, but the discoloration

remained.

Mary’s paraphysical appearance has been

disputed over the years. According to Peter Gorner of

the Chicago Tribune, Mary materializes as “a pretty

Polish girl, about 18, with long blond hair, wearing a

white dancing dress.” (13 May 1974) Michael Norman

and Beth Scott more or less agreed, calling her specter

a “captivating, blue-eyed, flaxen-haired girl in her late

teens” who wears a “long, off-white ballgown and

dancing shoes.” (Haunted Heartland, 1985)

However, according to Ursula Bielski, Mary

“wore a beautiful white party dress and patent leather

dancing shoes.” (Chicago Haunts, 1998) In the mind of

Jo-Anne Christensen, Mary is a “breathtaking blonde

with light blue eyes, dressed elegantly in a snowy

white cocktail dress with matching satin dancing

shoes.” (Ghost Stories of Illinois, 2000) In his Haunted

Illinois, Troy Taylor added a “thin shawl” to her

appearance.

Which of these descriptions is correct? Either

these authors are taking creative license, or there is a

supernatural Macy’s somewhere. However, it is not

uncommon for eyewitnesses to give varying

descriptions of living persons they had just seen

moments ago, let alone ghosts, so there is plenty of

room for speculation.

Despite these disagreements, it is generally

acknowledged that Mary sightings first began in the

1930s. In 1936, a man named Jerry Palus picked up a

mysterious girl at the Liberty Grove Hall and Ballroom

in Brighton Park. She instructed him to

Page 2

The Willowbrook Ballroom, formerly the O’ Henry

Ballroom, where all of Mary’s troubles began. Photo

courtesy of The Fallen Archives.

The old gates. Notice the unfortunate paint job.

These were the fabled bars after having been

“repaired” in 1978.

The new gates. These were installed sometime in

the past couple of years. This set lacks the giant

crosses its sister cemetery has mounted on hers.

drive her down Archer Avenue, and asked to be let out near

Resurrection Cemetery. The young woman reportedly told him

something to the effect of, “where I’m going you cannot

follow,” before she disappeared through the gates. Years later,

Jerry’s brother Chester would claim that a friend, and not Jerry,

had been driving the car that night. (Chicago Haunts, pg. 17)

Other early sightings included the specter of Mary

causing a scene as she threw herself at passing cars. Over the

years, Mary would resort to materializing as an accident victim,

always vanishing as the bewildered drivers got out of their cars

to survey the damage. This bloody behavior either shows two

ghosts at work, as Richard Crowe suggested in Chicago’s Street

Guide to the Supernatural, or it shows that the ghost of Mary

cannot be pigeonholed so easily as just another urban legend.

Mary’s earthly origins are as elusive as her ghost, and

several historical candidates have been put forward. A

commonly articulated, but just as commonly dismissed,

candidate was a 21 year old woman named Mary Bregovy, who

died in a car accident while (allegedly) returning home from

the O’ Henry Ballroom on March 11, 1934. However, Mary

Bregovy died in downtown Chicago, nowhere near

Resurrection Cemetery, even though she was interred there.

Also, this Mary had short, dark or brown hair, and was buried

in an orchid dress. According to Ursula Bielski, a cemetery

worker had told a nearby funeral director that he had seen

Bregovy’s ghost in Resurrection Cemetery during the 1950s.

Apparently the two stories became enmeshed and Bregovy was

henceforth regarded as Mary’s physical and historical

counterpart. (Chicago Haunts, pg. 16)

Another candidate was one Mary Miskowski, who was

struck by a car and killed on her way to a Halloween party

sometime in the 1930s.

The least likely candidate for Resurrection Mary was a

12 year old Lithuanian girl named Anna Norkus, who took on

Marija, “Mary,” as a favored middle name. She was killed in a

car accident on her way to the O’ Henry Ballroom on July 20,

1927. Her existence as a ghost, according to Bielski, largely

depends on a “what if” scenario that might have resulted in her

body being mistakenly laid to rest in an unmarked grave in

Resurrection Cemetery.

Whoever or whatever Resurrection Mary was in the

past or is today, her legacy will always remain as one of the

most beloved specters of Chicagoland. As long as the wind

whips down Archer Avenue, writers, musicians, folklorists,

ghost hunters, and surprised motorists will continue to

reinvent her story for generations to come. g

Page 3

The Fallen � Investigation file 006

An elderly woman scowled as she sauntered past

the dark blue Toyota Corolla and eyed a bumper sticker

which proclaimed ‘Necrophilia is Dead’ in skeletal lettering.

The five members of The Fallen scarcely noticed. Mike,

Aurelia, and Davin’s attentions were concentrated on the

seaweed-green cemetery fence while Greg and Emmer

laughed behind them.

“Let me know when you find those two bars,”

Emmer shouted.

“Damn it,” Mike yelled back. “They could be any of

these.”

“Don’t you have a picture of it?” Aurelia asked in

her characteristically dismissive manner. She folded her

arms below her chest and blew her bangs away from her

eyes.

“If I had a picture I wouldn’t be standing here like

an idiot, would I?” Mike shot back.

“You wouldn’t look like an idiot if you weren’t

wearing those combat boots with those shorts, buddy,”

Emmer chuckled.

The five stood inside the yawning gates of

Resurrection Cemetery. Cars honked and whooshed past

along Archer Avenue not more than a few yards away.

“Why do we always do everything the hard way?”

Greg asked. “Why don’t we just go ask?”

“Yeah that’s a good idea,” Mike replied, his voice

dripping with disdainful sarcasm. “Let’s just go

ask.”

Before Mike could continue, Emmer and

Greg piled back into the car and gestured for the

group to follow. Aurelia rolled her eyes and threw

open the back door. Mike reluctantly took the

driver’s seat.

The Corolla puttered down the blacktop until

it screeched to a halt inside the visitor center parking

lot, and its four doors simultaneously swung open.

Mike climbed out and strolled up the sidewalk. He

stopped at the entrance to the Romanesque building.

“I ain’t going in alone,” he yelled back at the quartet

who had taken positions around the front of the car.

Aurelia did not wait for the others before she

marched to join him. Greg, Emmer, and Davin

stayed behind.

Mike and Aurelia entered the lobby of the

imposing structure where several mourning widows

stood and scanned maps of the cemetery. The man

behind the main desk glanced with disgust at the

two as they strode up to him. He was an elderly

gentleman who wore a dark gray suit and a red

boutonnière.

“Excuse me,” Mike said with feigned

enthusiasm. “I have a question.” The visitor center.

Page 4

The old man coughed violently, cleared his

throat, and adjusted the button on his shirt cuff.

“Yes?” he asked in drawn out syllables.

“I’m sure you’re familiar with the story of

Resurrection Mary?” Mike began. “In the ‘70s she

supposedly bent bars on your main gate and they were

straightened out afterwards. Do you know which bars

that happened to?”

With a sound like a flooded engine turning

over, the elderly gentleman cleared his throat again.

“There’s nothing like that here,” he gargled. “I don’t

know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, right,” Mike replied. Without looking at

his friend, he scowled and walked out of the building

with his hands thrust deep into the pockets of his jean

shorts. Outside, he found Greg and Davin pointing at

a family assembled on the other side of the parking lot.

They ogled the oldest daughter, who was dressed more

for a day at the beach than a funeral. Mike glanced to

his left and to his right; Aurelia was nowhere to be

seen.

“Now where the hell did Aura go?” he asked.

Davin grinned. “Who cares,” he said

brusquely.

Suddenly, Aurelia’s shrill voice broke through

the air. “I’m right here,” she announced from a few

steps behind Mike, who quickly spun around.

“Let me guess,” Emmer piped up. “They didn’t

know anything about the bent gate.”

Mike rubbed his temples with his fingertips.

“Nope,” he sighed.

“They obviously painted over it,” Greg

interjected. “Why would they want that kind of

publicity? This is a cemetery, not a tourist attraction.”

“It is to us,” Davin said.

“Well, we’re not going to get anywhere

standing here,” Mike said. “Why don’t we go across

the street to that bar and see if the owner knows

anything?”

“Let’s do it,” Emmer seconded. “I could go for

a Corona.”

With no protestations, the five piled back into

their blue Toyota, drove out of the front gates of the

cemetery, and screeched onto the crowded street,

nearly missing an oncoming van. Greg tightly gripped

the panic handle until they were safely on the cracked

and worn out asphalt of the parking lot adjacent to

Chet’s Melody Lounge.

“I guess I’ll just wait in here,” David muttered.

“Oh yeah,” Mike said as he threw the shift into

park. “I forgot you’re not twenty one.”

“No one is going to care,” Emmer interrupted.

“Just as long as he doesn’t order anything. We don’t

want him sitting in here alone. He’s going to start

cutting himself again.”

Davin glanced down at the expiration date he

had carved into his arm and laughed. “Hey guys, I’m

expired,” he proudly announced.

Mike rolled his eyes and climbed out of

Page 5

Page 6

the car.

The five tramped up the handicap ramp under the

dark awning and entered Chet’s Lounge single file. Once

inside, Emmer removed his Cubs baseball cap and folded

it into the back pocket of his shorts while the bar patrons

turned their heads in unison to gape at the interlopers.

Mike walked straight up to the bar and ordered a

beer, sliding his driver’s license over the damp counter.

“Has anyone in here seen a ghost?” he asked with a grin.

“Are you one of those guys from TV?” the sweaty

bartender replied as he slammed down an equally

perspiring bottle.

“Nope,” Mike said. “We’re just tourists.”

Emmer thrust his hand across the bar. “Before my

friend makes an ass of himself, could I get a Corona?” he

interjected. The bartender motioned for his ID, and

Emmer produced it from a wallet thick with single

dollars.

“You might want to talk to Łukasz over there,” the

bartender suggested as he examined Emmer’s driver’s

license. “He claims to have seen Mary one night a few

weeks ago. Ain’t that right Łukasz?”

The Fallen focused their eyes on an aging man

who was hunched over the bar with three empty shot

glasses lined up in front of him. Greg, who had come in

behind his friends, had the pleasure of obtaining the

adjacent stool.

“That’s right,” Łukasz confirmed with a Polish

accent so thick Greg could smell the pierogi. “I saw her.

February I think. Must’ve been February.” He took a

deep breath. “Can’t remember any details.”

“Would ten bucks jog your memory?” Mike asked.

“Whoa,” Greg cut in. “Relax man. Let the guy

think.”

“I think…” Łukasz wheezed. “She was standing

on the side of the road, plain as day. Just like you’re

sitting right there now. The next thing I know, she’s gone.

It was the damnedest thing.”

“Are you sure it wasn’t just someone crossing the

street in the dark?” Emmer asked as he squeezed his lime

wedge and pushed it into the yellow bottle of Corona

resting in his left palm.

Łukasz belched. “Nope. She disappeared.”

After a few minutes, the bartender leaned over the

counter and nodded his head at Aurelia, who had been

looking around contemptuously. “So, you live near

here?” he asked.

“Excuse me?” Aurelia replied.

“You live near here?” the bartender repeated.

“Are you looking for a dog? I sell Rottweilers, you

know.”

“Okay…”

Mike threw the bartender a dirty look and

removed the quarter he had left for a tip. “Let’s get

out of here,” he whispered to Emmer, who chugged

the remainder of his beer.

Greg tossed a few dollars on the counter and

spun off of his stool. “Let’s went!” he yelled.

“You kids stay out of trouble!” Łukasz

shouted after them as the group followed Greg out

the door.

“Why can’t we ever see anything like that?”

Davin asked once the five were safely in the parking

lot.

“I can think of a few reasons,” Emmer replied.

Mike simply sighed and shook his head. g

Trivia

In this new section, tough questions will be asked. It

is up to you to uncover the clues and determine the solutions.

Sometimes you will find the answers buried in the current

issue; other times you will need to go to the location itself.

The answers to this month’s questions will be posted in next

month’s issue.

1. In what decade did Resurrection Mary (the

person) supposedly die?

2. What are the names of the two artists whose

songs pay tribute to Mary in the jukebox of

Chet’s Melody Lounge?

3. What is the specific address of Resurrection

Cemetery on Archer Avenue?

4. What is the name of the cemetery located

directly to the south of Resurrection?

5. Who is the least likely candidate for the real-life

Resurrection Mary?

6. What type of ghost is Mary according to Trent

Brandon’s The Book of Ghosts?

Go out and explore, and good luck!

Answers to last month’s questions:

1. Berryville 2. Highway 126 3. Frank Corzine and Doc Russell 4.

A Provost Marshall 5. Between nine and eleven feet 6. Gravel 7.

Union County 8. They failed to check their facts and plan ahead in

case something unexpected (like not being able to find your haunted

location) happened.

True! Amazing! Unbelievable! Personal Experiences

Yes, I saw her one night. Back in February. I

was coming out of bar and it was snowing. It was thick

snow, like… well, I could not see.

There she was, through the flurries on other side

of road. I have never seen anything like it in my life. I

swear to you, this day, she looked at me and then

disappeared.

Łukasz Wielkopolskie, 52, Portage Park

Me and my friends had gone driving up and

down Resurrection Cemetery for a few nights before our

first encounter with the ghost. Boy, we talked about

how it would be for weeks ahead of time, but we never

counted on this.

When she appeared, we were frozen stiff and

couldn’t move. My friends finally snapped out of it and

yelled at me to stop the car, but it was too late. I just

couldn’t believe my own eyes. By the time we turned

back she was gone. Someone else probably got a scare

that night.

Lenny, 19, Willow Springs

Page 7

“Here comes extraordinary, spooky Resurrection Mary,

dancing ghost of the cemetery. Oh, she’s so scary, oh yeah, oh

yeah, oh, she’s so weary.

Got a date with a ghoul named Mary, wrapped up in her web

of lies. I was just one of all the fools who fell in love with her

dead eyes.”

― J.J. Decay, “Resurrection Mary”

Resurrection Cemetery: come for the ghosts, stay for the

cemetery art.