Category Archives: History

WMEO 9 Morning Briefing- Dead Men Tell No Tales

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Two cats sit behind the WMEO 9 news desk. An orange long‑haired cat wearing a black bow tie sits on the left beside a small pumpkin and a microphone. A black cat sits on the right beside a teddy bear and a gray cap. Behind them, the studio screen displays a star‑filled sky with a large full moon and the headline “WMEO Morning Brief.”

WMEO 9 Morning Briefing

Your trusted source for news, chaos, and questionable fact‑checking.

Good morning, everyone! This is your WMEO 9 update — We Meow, You Listen.

Banner: “Today we have news about—”

Balboa (bursting in): “Banner! Banner! I just heard there’s a dead man on the moon!”

Banner: “What!? Balboa, how could there be a dead man on the moon?”

Balboa: “There is! I read it on the internet, and if it’s on the internet, it has to be true. The internet is basically the Library of Truth.”

Banner: “Pumpkin Spice, have you heard anything about this?”

Pumpkin Spice, an orange cat dressed in a white astronaut suit, holds a gold‑visored helmet under one arm and a WMEO microphone in the other. He wears a black WMEO press hat with an orange leaf, standing against a starry outer‑space background.Pumpkin Spice: “I’m already packed. I’m heading to SpaceX. If I stand near the rocket and look cute, they’ll let me on.”

Banner: “Pumpkin—wait. I think I know the answer. Dr. Eugene Shoemaker died in 1997, and to honor his contributions to the space program, some of his ashes were sent to the moon. So technically… yes. There is a dead man on the moon.”

Balboa: “I knew it! The internet never lies.”

Banner: “Well folks, that’s all the time we have today. Please return to your regularly scheduled scrolling.”

WMEO — bringing you breaking news… sort of.

Two cats sit behind a WMEO 9 news desk as if hosting a broadcast. The orange cat on the left wears a dark blue bow tie, while the black cat on the right sits beside a small gray mouse toy and a brown teddy bear. A sheet of paper with red markings lies on the desk. The front of the desk displays the text “WMEO 9” in large yellow letters and “Thank you for watching” in white. The blurred newsroom background features blue and red tones.

 

Haunted October: The Tillinghast Lot, Exeter, Rhode Island

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Old, overgrown cemetery in a wooded area with weathered, tilted gravestones surrounded by bare trees and fallen leaves.

A Quiet Rhode Island Cemetery With a Loud History

October sharpens the edges of New England. The mornings feel older, the woods feel closer, and even the quiet backroads seem to remember things they don’t talk about the rest of the year. Down in Exeter, tucked behind fields and stone walls, there’s a small cemetery that carries one of Rhode Island’s strangest stories — the Tillinghast Lot.

It doesn’t look like much at first. A handful of old stones, a clearing in the trees, the kind of place you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. But in the late 1800s, this quiet patch of ground became part of a larger fear that swept through rural Rhode Island — a fear that the dead weren’t staying where they were buried.

Why Exeter Was Already on Edge

To understand why the Tillinghast deaths caused such alarm, you have to look at what was happening in Exeter at the time. Tuberculosis was ravaging families, but no one knew what it was. People wasted away slowly — pale, weak, coughing, losing weight — and when multiple members of the same family died, neighbors whispered that something supernatural was draining the life from the living.

Light gray 19th‑century gravestone with small stones placed on top and artificial red and purple flowers at its base, set in a grassy cemetery with trees and other headstones in the background.The Mercy Brown Vampire Panic

The most famous example was the Mercy Brown case, just a few miles from the Tillinghast Lot. After several members of the Brown family died, locals became convinced that one of the dead was “feeding” on the surviving son, Edwin.

In 1892, they exhumed Mercy Brown’s body. Because she had been stored in a cold crypt during winter, she hadn’t decomposed normally. Her heart still held blood. Terrified, the townspeople burned her heart and liver, mixed the ashes into a tonic, and gave it to Edwin to “break the curse.”

It became the most famous vampire panic in American history — and it happened right here in Exeter.

So when members of the Tillinghast family began dying around the same era, people didn’t see illness. They saw a pattern. They believed it could happen again.

Strange Reports From the Tillinghast Lot

Visitors to the Lot claimed the air turned cold even on warm days. Shadows moved between the stones. Footsteps followed them when no one else was there. Small, unsettling details that linger long after you’ve left.

Standing there today, you can see why the stories stuck. The ground dips in strange places. The trees crowd close, as if they’ve been listening for a long time. The stones are worn down to soft shapes, names fading into lichen and time. It’s peaceful, but not entirely. There’s a heaviness to the place — not threatening, just watchful.

A Place That Remembers More Than It ShouldWeathered metal cemetery marker lying among fallen leaves and grass, identifying a historical burial site in Exeter, Rhode Island.

I’ve driven through Exeter more times than I can count, and there’s something about that part of Rhode Island that feels older than the map suggests. The roads curve in ways that make you slow down. The woods feel deeper. And cemeteries like the Tillinghast Lot remind you that history doesn’t always stay quiet.

If you ever find yourself near Exeter, take a moment to stop by. Walk the edge of the clearing. Read the stones. Listen to the wind moving through the trees. Just don’t go alone. Some places remember more than they should — especially in October.

Small historic cemetery enclosed by a low stone wall, with weathered gravestones set in dry grass and a single American flag placed beside one marker, surrounded by bare trees in a quiet late‑fall landscape.

 

The Ghosts of the Omni Parker House

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Two people in formal wedding attire stand in front of the ornate gold‑and‑black entrance of the Omni Parker House hotel. The bride’s long white veil trails across the ground as they pose beneath the illuminated sign reading “Omni Parker House,” framed by decorative lights and three arched doorways.

 Three Spirits, One Legendary Boston Hotel

Boston has no shortage of haunted corners, but few places pack as much ghostly star‑power into one building as the Omni Parker House. If you’ve ever walked through its lobby, you’ve stepped into a place where history lingers — and sometimes checks in for the night.

Here are three of the hotel’s most famous spectral guests.

Sepia‑toned 19th‑century portrait of a bearded man in formal Victorian attire, standing beside a small stack of books or papers. He rests one hand on the stack while the other sits on his hip, posing confidently against a plain studio backdrop.👻 Charles Dickens — The Restless Writer

Yes, that Charles Dickens. When Dickens stayed at the Parker House during his American reading tour, he rehearsed A Christmas Carol in front of the mirror in his suite. Staff and guests have reported seeing a man in Victorian clothing pacing the hallway on the third floor, muttering lines under his breath — as if he’s still practicing for a performance long finished.

👻 Harvey Parker — The Watchful Founder Sepia‑toned 19th‑century portrait of Harvey Parker, shown from the chest up. He has a full beard and neatly combed hair, and wears a formal suit with a bow tie and vest, posed against a plain background in classic Victorian photographic style.

Harvey Parker opened the hotel in 1855 and poured his life into it. Guests staying on the 10th floor have reported a kindly older man checking on them at night — asking if they’re comfortable, if they need anything, and then vanishing before they can answer.

👻 Charlotte Cushman — The Stage Legend

Charlotte Cushman was one of America’s most celebrated actresses, known for her powerful stage presence. She stayed at the Parker House often, and some say she still does. Guests have heard footsteps in empty hallways, felt sudden cold spots, and even caught glimpses of a tall woman in period dress near the elevators.

Sepia‑toned profile portrait of Charlotte Cushman, shown facing left with wavy hair pinned up and decorated with flowers. She wears a high‑collared garment fastened with a brooch, captured in the elegant, formal photographic style of the 19th century.

 

 

Haunted October: Join Me in the Bennington Triangle

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A misty Vermont forest with dense evergreens and low‑lying fog drifting through the trees, with a shadowed mountain rising in the background.

🎃 Join me — if you dare — on a nature hike deep in the forests of Vermont.

There’s a stretch of wilderness in the southwestern corner of the state where the trees grow close, the air hangs still, and the quiet feels heavier than it should. Hikers talk about a strange hush that settles over the land — a silence that doesn’t sound natural, a stillness that makes you stop walking and listen without knowing why.

This is Glastenbury Mountain, the heart of what people now call the Bennington Triangle.

🌲 A Campfire in the Dark

A glowing campfire burning on a rocky riverbank at dusk, with flames reflecting off the stones and silhouetted trees in the background.Picture our campfire: a bright circle of light in the darkness, twigs snapping as they burn. Someone from our group steps away — just for a moment. Maybe to grab something from the tent or pick up a sweater. Nights get cold in these woods.

But they never return.

Vanished. Gone in the blink of an eye.

It sounds impossible… until you learn that five people have walked into these woods and never come back out. Only one was ever found — and her remains had been lying out there for months before surfacing.

👣 The Vanishings

Middie Rivers — 1945

An experienced woodsman leading a hunting party along a familiar trail. He walked a short distance ahead to scout the path, rounded a curve, and simply never returned.

Search teams combed the area for days. No footprints.or  broken brush. No sign of an animal attack. Nothing. It was as if the forest opened up and took him.

One moment he was there. The next, he wasn’t.

Paula Welden — 1946

A 19‑year‑old college student who went for a hike on the Long Trail. She was seen heading toward the woods… and then never again. Despite weeks of searching, no trace was ever found.

An empty pair of blue‑gray bus seats with a worn green backpack and a weathered brown duffle bag resting on them, next to a window showing a blurred outdoor view.James Tedford — 1949

A veteran traveling by bus through the area. Passengers saw him sitting in his seat as the bus approached Bennington — but when it arrived, he was gone. His belongings were still there. His seat was undisturbed. He had vanished from a moving bus.

Paul Jepson — 1950

Only eight years old. His mother left him in the family truck for about half an hour. When she returned, Paul was gone. Bloodhounds tracked his scent to a nearby road, where it simply ended. He was never found.

Frieda Langer — 1950

An experienced hiker and the only one ever recovered. She slipped into a brook and went to change her clothes. She never came back. Months later her body was discovered — but no cause of death could be determined.

Five disappearances. Five unsolved cases. One small region.

🌫️ A Mountain the Abenaki Would Not Enter A foggy woodland trail lined with tall moss‑covered trees, with mist drifting through the forest and the path fading into the distance.

The Abenaki knew better than to trust Glastenbury. Hunting parties steered clear of its woods, no villages ever took root on its slopes, and travelers passed through without stopping. In their stories, the mountain was a place that swallowed people whole.

🎃 Why the Bennington Triangle Haunts Us

The Bennington Triangle is spooky not because of ghosts, but because of the feeling it gives you. It’s the kind of place where the forest seems to close in, where the trail feels longer than it should, and where the silence makes you wonder what’s listening.

It’s New England at its most mysterious.

So I ask you again…

Will you join me in the Bennington Triangle?

A nighttime campfire burning inside a ring of rocks, with two empty yellow camping chairs facing the flames and dark trees silhouetted in the background.

 

A Landmark, a Coffee Shop and a Steaming Kettle

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A large golden teapot sculpture hangs from the corner of a downtown Boston building, with real steam rising from its spout. The teapot is mounted high above the sidewalk against a brick façade with rows of rectangular windows.

The Mystery of the Steaming Kettle

Boston’s love affair with its oddball icons

Quirky Little City Treasures Bronze sculptures of a mother duck and her ducklings line a cobblestone path in a park, each duck wearing small decorative hats and ribbons. Benches and trees sit in the background, creating a charming Public Garden scene.

Boston is full of landmarks and statues — quirky little city treasures like the ducks in the Public Garden. When I first started working in downtown Boston back in the late ’70s, there was a little coffee shop in Government Center where we always grabbed a pastry on the way to work.

A large golden teapot hangs from the corner of a downtown building while pedestrians walk below. The street is lined with multi‑story buildings, including one with a “State Street Bank” sign, creating a busy urban scene.The shop was distinguished by a giant teapot that actually spouted steam. I kid you not. The shop was named for that teapot — The Steaming Kettle — and everyone knew it. Everyone recognized it. It was one of those things that made Boston feel like Boston.

From Scollay Square to Government Center A historic street scene of Scollay Square shows people walking along cobblestone roads with horse‑drawn carriages and early automobiles. A small building with a clock tower and a red‑tiled roof stands at the center, surrounded by brick storefronts and vintage signs, capturing the lively atmosphere of early 20th‑century Boston.

But as so often happens in life, things change. I changed jobs and became a suburbanite. Government Center was revamped yet again.

At one time the area was known as Scollay Square — you may remember it from the Kingston Trio’s song about Charlie on the MTA. “Charlie’s wife goes down to the Scollay Square station…” But alas, Scollay Square is no more.

We now have the big brick expanse of Government Center. But through all the upheaval, the Steaming Kettle stayed.

A Teapot With a Past

A vintage street scene shows pedestrians in early‑20th‑century clothing walking past a storefront with a large teapot mounted above the entrance. The shop’s sign reads “Tea Company” and “Home of Best New England Teas,” and surrounding buildings display period advertisements, creating a lively old‑Boston atmosphere.The kettle was built in 1873. It originally hung outside the Oriental Tea Company, whose owners quickly realized they needed a hook — and the giant teapot provided just the thing.

In 1875, they ran a contest to guess the weight of the kettle. Participants had to buy a ticket to log their guess.

Part two of the contest was even better: guess how many people could fit inside the kettle. When the kettle was lowered to the ground, eight boys and one very tall man popped out of it.

Then came the official weighing. Boston’s sealer of weights and measures recorded the result: 277 gallons, two quarts, one pint, and three gills. That weight was later inscribed right on the kettle itself.

The Oriental Tea Company lasted until 1966, when it finally closed its doors. But Boston doesn’t give up its icons easily. A large golden teapot hangs outdoors against a blue sky, suspended by metal supports beside a modern building. Text on the side lists its measured capacity in gallons, quarts, pints, and ounces. The owner opened another shop in the same area — The Steaming Kettle Coffee Shop — and brought the now‑famous kettle along.

The shop changed hands several times, eventually becoming a Starbucks. Except for a brief period in 2016 when the kettle was damaged, it hung proudly from its installation back in 1873.

And Now… a Boston Mystery

Today, the whereabouts of the kettle are a mystery. The Starbucks location closed in 2025, and after that the kettle seems to have gone missing.

But this is Boston, folks — a city that loves its oddball relics. Who knows? Maybe some historical group or an enterprising entrepreneur will locate that giant teapot and reinstall it in its rightful place, as iconic as the Old State House.

I hope they do. That kettle is a part of my Boston heritage.

A large golden teapot is mounted on the exterior of a curved stone building, supported by metal brackets. The shiny teapot stands out against a bright blue sky and tall windows, creating a striking landmark on the city street.