Chicago, Illinois
In the 1930's, construction began on the Empire State Building, the Lindburgh baby was kidnapped and blamed on Bruno Hauptman, the FBI put an end to the tirade of the seemingly unstoppable duo of Bonnie and Clyde, and Resurrection Mary made herself known along Archer Avenue in Justice, Illinois, a suburb of Chicago.
The story begins at the O'Henry Ballroom, now called the Willowbrook, where a young girl accompanied her date to a dance. At some point they argued and the girl left, opting to walk home or hitchhike, in spite of the cold winter evening. Not very far from the dance, she was killed by a hit and run accident. Her murder remains unsolved, and due to the numerous sightings of the ghost nicknamed Resurrection Mary, it appears her soul is doomed to suffer the same fate for eternity.
The Justice police department has since received phone calls and visits from frantic drivers for a variety of reasons. Some have encountered her in the manner of hitting her with their car, even hearing the sickening thud of impact, only to get out and discover no one there. Some claim to have come across her and driven through her, and still others report a woman lying face down on the side of the road, yet when police investigate, she's disappeared.
It must be a hoax, right? Insane people, or those weary with fatigue? Yet, they all describe the same girl in detail -- the white party dress, her curly blonde hair, her dancing shoes.
Resurrection Mary doesn't just haunt Archer Avenue, though. She's turned up at the same dancing hall where she spent her last night alive, danced with unsuspecting gentlemen, even been kissed by a few, who have claimed the mysterious girl to be unusually aloof, and her skin icy cold to the touch.
In almost every case, these men have offered her a ride home, which she accepts. She directs them up Archer Avenue, only to vanish from the passenger seat as they pass the gates of Resurrection Cemetary, her not-so-final resting place.
Among the eerier witness accounts is that of Jerry Palus in 1939. He danced with her, was one of those who kissed her, and gave her a ride home. She told him her address, but requested he drop her off at 7201 Archer Avenue. Upon arrival, and seeing the address to be that of Resurrection Cemetary, he reluctantly agreed, but only on the condition that she allow him to accompany her. She refused, and told him, "Where I'm going, you can't follow." Then, she quietly got out of the car and ran to the gates of the cemetary, vanishing before she reached them.
Yet another spectacular event of note occurred on the night of August 10, 1976, for that was the night she left proof of her existence.
A driver passed the cemetary late that night and noticed a girl fitting the same description standing inside the gates. He went to the police station and reported seeing someone accidentally locked inside. The police were dispatched, and upon arrival, all that remained in the place where she stood was twisted, charred metal bars of the iron gates, and small handprints seared into the metal.
The cemetary attempted to explain it away, saying it was the result of a truck backing into the gate, and even went so far as to temporarily remove the bars in an attempt to ward off spirit-seekers and gawkers. Supposedly, attempts to cover the handprints and scorch marks proved futile, and eventually, the bars were removed for good.
Many want to know the identity of Resurrection Mary before her death, and while speculations are abundant, the favorite theory is a woman named Mary Bregovy. She was killed in an accident in 1934 and is buried in an unmarked grave next to her mother of the same name who passed away in 1922.
While at first glance it may seem that all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place, there's flaws in this theory. It's true she died in an accident, but it took place in downtown Chicago. The true Resurrection Mary is seen with blonde hair, wearing white. Young Mary Bregovy was brunette, and was buried in an orchid or lavender dress instead.
A man named Frank Andrejasich suggested Mary was someone else altogether: Anna Mary Norkus, shy of thirteen years old by only a few hours, tragically killed in a car accident when her father took her out to celebrate. However, her description matches witness sightings. Furthermore, during this era in Chicago, general strikes might have put gravediggers out of work, according to this theory. (I couldn't find any proof of this in my search of Chicago history online.) When this occurred during other times, the deceased were interred at Resurrection Cemetary until such time that they could be moved. Anna Mary Norkus was supposed to be laid to rest at St. Casimir Cemetary. If there was a strike, she could have been misplaced, and thus given a reason to continue to haunt Archer Avenue. She's not at peace.
Whatever Mary's true identity, her death was tragic and premature, and her spirit continues to be seen to this day.
