Anna Pierce Hobbs Bixby (1812–1873) was a midwife, frontier doctor, dentist, herbologist, and scientist in southern Illinois.

Anna Bixby

Anna Pierce was the daughter of farmers who had moved from Philadelphia and, in 1828, settled in southeastern Illinois, close to Rock Creek's village. After finishing school, Anna traveled to Philadelphia to train in midwifery and dentistry. Still, she became the first physician in Hardin County and, consequently, a general practitioner for her community on her return to Illinois. 

Anna Bixby may also have been the first female doctor in Illinois; others claimed she was a midwife from Tennessee. She married her first husband, Isaac Hobbs.

She researched milk sickness, causing a good deal of fatality among both people and calves, including Anna's mother and sister. Noting the seasonal nature of the disease and the fact that sheep and goat milk were not affected, she reasoned that the cause must be a poisonous herb. 

Dr. Anna Pierce Hobbs Bixby discovered that White Snakeroot (Ageratina altissima) and Milkweed (Asclepias) were the cause of milk sickness from grazing cows eating the wild plants, which fatally poisoned the milk consumed by frontier settlers.

 

However, she could not determine the precise cause when she met an elderly Indian woman in the woods whom the local people called "Aunt Shawnee." 

Shawnee." She was a herbalist and healer and showed Anna a plant, White Snakeroot (Ageratina altissima), and "Milkweed," which had caused the same symptoms as the milk sickness did in her own tribe. The plant had killed many Shawnee cattle, and she told Anna it was probably what she was looking for.

Experiments on a calf confirmed the toxic effect of White Snakeroot and Milkweed. When cattle consume the plant, their meat and milk become contaminated and cause the sometimes fatal condition of milk sickness. The milking cows did not fall ill, but the other cattle and those who drank their milk fell victim to the toxin.

One of the most notable and tragic cases of the "milk sickness" was Abraham Lincoln's mother, Nancy Hanks Lincoln, who died at 34 years old in 1818. As hard as Bixby worked, she could not stop the scourge. When Louis Pasteur discovered pasteurization [1] in 1856, non-toxic milk began.

The plague was finally wiped out. However, despite Bixby's efforts, it was not until 1928 (55 years after her death) that research confirming her discovery was published. Her position as a frontier doctor and a woman would have made it hard for her to gain the respect of the medical profession of the time. 

After Isaac Hobbs died, Anna Pierce Hobbs married her second husband, Eson Bixby, who became a notorious outlaw around Cave-In-Rock on the Ohio River.

Anna Hobbs Bixby died in Rock Creek, Hardin County, Illinois, in 1873.

THE LEGEND OF ANNA BIXBY: Ghosts & Buried Treasure

According to local legend, Anna Bixby left a treasure trove concealed in a cave named after her. The treasure is supposedly buried in Rock Creek, Hardin County, Illinois, and has never been found. 

Cave-in-Rock, Illinois.

The following significant incident in Anna's life, during her second marriage to Eson Bixby, is believed to be involved in several criminal enterprises. The legend does have some elements of truth, which originated in the book "The Ballads of the Bluff" by Judge W.M. Hall, who allegedly had a diary that belonged to Anna Bixby. Historians have since disputed much of the story, although it was believed that Hall was simply passing along reports that he had heard. Here is the basic version of the story:

Legend holds that John Murrell and his gang, along with James Ford and other disreputable characters, distilled whiskey and made counterfeit money (coiners) in Cave-in-Rock in Hardin County that has since become known as Bixby’s Cave. Enos Bixby, Anna’s husband, took over after these men were driven out or killed and continued their operations, along with committing robberies (river pirates) and stealing timber. Bixby married Anna when she was an old woman because he hoped to steal her money from her. Finally, he attempted to kill her by tying her up with ropes and heavy chain and pushing her off a bluff. As it happened though, she fell into a tree and managed to escape. Not long after, Anna died suddenly and she was buried with the rope and chain that her husband tried to kill her with. Her ghost has haunted her burial site ever since, often appearing as a shimmering light.

But, despite the tale's popularity, it only contains elements of the truth. The period when all of this allegedly occurred is the biggest problem with the story. Bixby's cave did (and does still) exist. However, after 1811, it needed to be bigger to house a moonshine distillery and, indeed, a counterfeiting operation. The cave was heavily damaged in the 1811 earthquake that rocked the New Madrid Fault and afterward was much less accessible than before. Several of the men involved in the story's criminal aspects were dead long before Anna married Eson Bixby, and others who allegedly worked together were children during the time of the opposite criminal's heyday. If the story had involved these men, it would have happened in the 1820s. This seems odd since Anna's first husband died in 1845, and Anna survived until 1873. 

On the other hand, recent historians believe that the story may have occurred in some fashion, but it was told and re-told using well-known outlaws as the key players in the tale when the real culprits may have been much lesser known. Counterfeiters (coiners) were operating in Hardin County at the time, and it has been learned that Anna's second husband was involved with criminals. 

Counterfeiters used a coin die to make counterfeit coins from cheap metals or restamping Mexican coin denominations.

In 1935, the Hardin County Independent newspaper published what was likely a more accurate account of Anna's escape from her murderous husband. The writer of the account, Charles L. Foster, had left Hardin County in the 1880s but had grown up in the Rock Creek area, a few homes away from Anna Bixby. He was born in 1863 and vaguely remembered Eson Bixby when he was alive, which dates the escape to the late 1860s, in the years following the Civil War. 

According to the account, a rider came to the Bixby household late during a terrible thunderstorm. He called out to the house that someone needed Anna's medical skills, and she immediately came out. She mounted the rider's second horse, and they rode into the woods. Thanks to the heavy storm clouds overhead, the trail was shrouded in darkness, and Anna soon became disoriented and unsure of their route. However, at one point during the ride, she looked over. When a flash of lightning illuminated the night, Anna saw the identity of the mysterious rider — it was her husband, Eson.

When he realized that she had discovered his identity, Bixby brought the horses to a halt, and he quickly bound her hands and gagged her. Evidently, he intended to do away with her, and Anna panicked. When she heard the jingle of chains being removed from his saddlebags, Anna became so frightened that she began to run, dashing into the dark woods. As she plunged into the forest, her fear became even more vital as she realized she had no idea where she was. The storm continued to rage, sending rain lashing down on her and causing the wind to whip through the trees in a wild fury. Anna ran for some distance, and then suddenly, the ground beneath her vanished, and she tumbled over a large bluff and crashed to the ground far below. The fall broke the ropes that bound her hands and broke some of her bones, seriously injuring her. Nevertheless, she crawled a short distance to a fallen tree and slithered behind it.

A few moments later, a light appeared in the darkness at the top of the bluff, and Eson Bixby came into view carrying a burning torch. He climbed down from the top of the rocks and searched for Anna, but he did not find her. After a few minutes, he returned to his horse and rode away. 

Once he was gone, Anna began crawling and stumbling out of the forest. It took her until sunrise to find a nearby farmhouse, but when she reached it, she found herself at a friend's doorstep — only a few houses away from her own. They quickly took her in, and she told them what had happened.

Bixby was soon arrested and taken to jail in Elizabethtown. He escaped through and vanished for a time. He was later captured again in Missouri, but once again, he ran. This time, he disappeared for good and was never seen again.

Anna lived in the Rock Creek community of Hardin County until 1873; when she died, she was buried next to her first husband, and only a simple "A" was inscribed on her headstone. But some believe that Anna, or at least her spirit, lives on.

The legend of Anna Bixby states that her husband wanted to do away with her because of a fortune that she had amassed over the years. What may have amounted to a "fortune" in those days may have been much smaller than what we would consider a fortune today, but most believe it was a large amount of money. The legend further states that when Anna learned of Eson's greed, she hid the money somewhere just before he attempted to do away with her. It is believed that the hiding place for the treasure was the cave beside Rock Creek in Hooven Hollow, which was also said to have been the hiding place of outlaw gangs. 

The cave is still known as Anna Bixby Cave today. Over the years, people have reported seeing a strange light appear along the bluff in the cave's vicinity. The significant, glowing light moves in and out of the trees and among the rocks, vanishing and reappearing without explanation. It is believed that the light may be that of Anna Bixby, still watching over the treasure that she hid away years ago.

Folklorist Charles Neely collected one of the most detailed accounts of the Bixby ghost light in his 1938 book Tales & Songs of Southern Illinois. The story of the spook light was told by Reverend E.N. Hall, a minister who once served the Rock Creek Church and had several brushes with the uncanny in this part of Hardin County. One evening in his younger days, Hall and a friend named Hobbs walked over to a nearby farm to escort two girls to church. When they got to the house, they found no one home. It appeared that the girls left without them, and the two young men stood around for a few moments, wondering what to do. 

They stood at the edge of the yard as they talked and looked toward the darkened house. The house stood on a short knoll with a hollow that ran away from the gate to the left for about 100 yards and then joined with another hollow that came back to the right side of the gate. Hobbs was looking eastward along the bluff when he saw what appeared to be a "ball of fire about the size of a washtub" going very fast along the east hollow.

At first, the young men thought that it might be someone on a horse carrying a lantern, then realized that it was moving much too fast for that. The light followed the hollow to the left of the gate along a slight curve where one cavity met the other. It followed the opposite hollow and came right up the bank where the two men were standing. It paused, motionless, about 30 feet away from them, and began to burn down smaller and smaller and then turned red as it went out. Finally, it simply vanished.

The two young men decided not to go to church. They went directly to the farm where they had been working and went to bed. The next morning, at the breakfast table, they told Mr. Patten, the farmer they had been working for, what they had both seen the night before. He laughed at them and said it had just been a "mineral light" carried by the wind. He had no explanation, though, for how fast the light had moved or that there had been no wind the previous evening. He could also not explain why the light seemed to follow the two hollows and then stop in place and burn out.

Later, Hall had the chance to speak with the woman who owned the farm, Mrs. Walton, and asked her what the light might have been. She then told him the story of Anna Bixby, who had owned the property before she had, and explained that to protect her money from her criminal husband, she had hidden her fortune in a cave that was located on the property. Mrs. Walton always believed that the spook light was the ghost of Anna Bixby, checking to see that her money was still hidden away. She had seen the light herself on many occasions, always disappearing into the cave.

If she knew so well where Anna's money was hidden, Hall asked her why she had never bothered to go and get it. "I would," Mrs. Walton answered, "if I thought that Granny Bixby wanted me to have it."

A historical marker has been mounted in Anna Bixby's honor at Cave-in-Rock, Illinois, near her home. In southern Illinois, the Anna Bixby Women's Center in Harrisburg, Illinois, provides shelter and services to abused women and children.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

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[1] Pasteurized vs. Homogenized

PASTEURIZATION

Louis Pasteur discovered pasteurization in 1856 when an alcohol manufacturer commissioned him to determine what was causing beetroot alcohol to sour. Pasteurization does not kill all microorganisms in milk but is intended to kill some bacteria and make some enzymes inactive. 

But who first suggested that milk be pasteurized to make it safer for consumption? 

It was Frans von Soxhlet, a German agricultural chemist. He was the first person to suggest that milk sold to the public be pasteurized in 1886. 

The term "pasteurization" is derived from Louis Pasteur's pioneering work on the destruction of microbes through heat treatment, but Pasteur's area of interest was wine and beer, not milk. Pasteur didn't even invent pasteurization. Heat treatment that made foods safer was known long before Pasteur, but the French chemist was the first to explain the phenomenon. Pasteur realized that spoilage was due to chemical reactions initiated by living microbes, and heat treatment prevented spoilage because of its destructive effect on these living organisms. If wine or beer turned sour, Pasteur maintained, it was because of contamination by acid-producing rogue yeasts after the alcohol-producing yeast had done its job. The heating of wine would then destroy these invaders and preserve the beverage.

Milk presented an altogether different scenario from wine. Typhoid and scarlet fever, diphtheria, tuberculosis, and various diarrheal diseases were transmitted through milk consumption. The pasteurization process kills those microbes like what's found in White Snakeroot and Milkweed.

How is milk pasteurized? Chilled raw milk is heated by passing it between heated stainless steel plates until it reaches 161° F, and it's then held at that temperature for at least 15 seconds before it's quickly cooled back to its original temperature of 39° F.

HOMOGENIZATION

Homogenization is an entirely separate process that occurs after pasteurization in most cases. The purpose of homogenization is to break down fat molecules in milk so that they resist separation. Without homogenization, fat molecules in milk will rise to the top and form a layer of cream. Homogenizing milk prevents this separation by breaking the molecules down to such a small size that they remain suspended evenly throughout the milk instead of rising to the top.

The homogenization process was invented and patented by Auguste Gaulin in 1899 when he described a method for homogenizing milk. Gaulin's machine, a three-piston thruster outfitted with tiny filtration tubes, was shown at the World Fair in Paris in 1900.

Homogenization is a mechanical process and doesn't involve any additives. Like pasteurization, arguments exist for and against it. It's advantageous for large-scale dairy farms to homogenize milk because it allows them to mix milk from different herds without issue. By preventing cream from rising to the top, homogenization also leads to a longer shelf life of milk, which will be most attractive to consumers who favor milk without the cream layer. This allows large farms to ship greater distances and do business with more retailers. Finally, homogenization makes it easier for dairies to filtrate out the fat and create two percent, one percent and skim milk. 

Ike Sanders hospitality and foodservice success, as a person of color, in Bloomington, Illinois.

Isaac "Ike" Joshua Beasley Sanders (1878-1929), a negro, opened a restaurant and rooming house located at 306 South Main Street in Bloomington, Illinois in 1903. It was known as “Ike Sander’s Restaurant Short Order House.” The restaurant not only provided good meals and courteous service but provided people with boarding and lodging by the day of the week with clean and well-ventilated rooms for reasonable prices.

The interior of Ike Sander's first restaurant in Bloomington, Illinois. Ike's first wife, Allie Headley is behind the bar; Ike's sister, Lillian is on the right and Ike is in the rear.

Lue Anna Brown Sanders Clark recalled that his restaurant served both blacks and whites and that Ike was well-liked by all people in Bloomington which was likely why his business was so successful. Ike and Allie continued to run the restaurant until 1911 when Allie passed away. Shortly after Allie’s death Ike sold the restaurant and moved back to Boston, Massachusetts.

Ike returned to Bloomington around 1915 and opened another restaurant. This lunchroom, the "Cafe and Pool Hall," was located at 410 South Main Street. In February of 1916, an advertisement appears in The Weekly Advertiser (a local black publication) that lists Ike’s pool hall and café at 107 South Main Street in Bloomington, in the central business district. 

Ike Sanders (left) and another man in front of Cafe and Pool Hall at 103 S. Main St., Bloomington, Illinois. Note the Ringling Brothers circus posters in the windows.

A few months later during the summer of 1916, Ike opened the last restaurant he would operate, "The Workingman’s Club" (also known as the Colored Men’s Club) of the City of Bloomington. The restaurant was first located at 408 South Main Street. In order to open his restaurant at that location, Ike (because he was a Negro) had to get permission from the citizens and businessmen in the 400 block of South Main Street. In the statement, the people who lived and worked on that block stated that they were willing to allow Ike’s Workingman’s Club to open.

The club was at this location for a short time until Ike moved the club to 1101 West Washington Street around 1917 where it remained until he was forced to close in late 1919.  His second wife, Lue Anna Brown, and Ike worked as equal partners at the Workingman’s Club.

Owners Ike and Lue Anna Brown Sanders and the interior of the Working Men's Club located at 1101 W. Washington Street, Bloomington, Illinois at 11:25 am. Circa 1917

The Workingman’s Club was open 7 days a week from 7:00 am to midnight. The Club “provided rooms, recreation, and food for the working man.” At first, the Club was a “private affair.” Men who wished to come in would sign their names in the book and give a $1.00 per year membership fee. However, Lue Anna recalled that after a while everybody came in. She said “you know how people are. They just rush in whether it’s private or not.” Not only did the Workingman’s Club have a restaurant, but it also had a pool hall, barbershop, and rooms for working men to stay overnight. While Ike was the President of the Workingman’s Club (managing the pool hall, the barbershop, the drinks, and all of the finances) he gave Lue Anna control over the restaurant.

Lue Anna recalled that meals were served whenever anyone came in, including breakfast. She said there were three small tables in the restaurant and she helped cook and serve customers. Lue Anna remembered that they did not serve “fancy foods” such as greens, chitlins, barbeque ribs, or potato pie. Pig feet and pig ears were favorite menu items, but they “served most anything customers wanted including beef stew, hamburgers, neckbones,” and fish every Friday. They also served Bohemian, Crown, and Budweiser beers.

INDEX TO MY ILLINOIS AND CHICAGO FOOD & RESTAURANT ARTICLES.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D. 

The Story of the 1874 Millstadt Illinois Ax Murders on Saxtown Road.

The small Village of Millstadt is located just a few miles from Belleville, a long-established and prosperous town across the Mississippi River from St. Louis. Millstadt has always been known as a quiet community. It was settled long ago by German immigrants who came to America to work hard, be industrious, and keep to themselves. It was a place where nothing bad could ever really happen, or at least that's what the residents in the latter part of the nineteenth century believed. However, the murders that occurred on Saxtown Road forever shattered that illusion. When a local German family was brutally slaughtered in 1874, it created a dark, unsolved mystery.

On March 19, 1874, Carl Stelzenreide, age 70, his son, Frederick, 35, Frederick's wife, Anna, 28, and their children, Carl, 3, and Anna, 8 months, were found brutally murdered in their home on Saxton Road, located outside of Millstadt. The grisly crime was discovered by a neighbor, Benjamin Schneider, who had arrived at the Stelzenreide home early that morning to collect some potato seeds from Carl Steltzenreide. As he approached the house, he found that the area was eerily still. The horses and cattle fenced in the front lot had not been watered or fed, and no one cared for the morning chores.

Schneider knocked on the front door, but no one answered. He called out and looked in the window, but it was too dark inside the house to see anything. Finally, he turned the knob and pushed the door open. As he stepped in, he looked down and saw the body of Frederick Steltzenreide on the floor, lying in a large pool of blood. The young man had been savagely beaten, and his throat had been cut. Three of his fingers had been severed. Panicked, Schneider began looking for the other members of the family. He found Anna and her children lying on a bed. All of them had been bludgeoned to death, and Anna's throat had been cut. Her infant daughter, Baby Anna, was lying across her chest, her tiny arms wrapped around her mother's neck. Her son, Carl, was found next to her. His facial features were unrecognizable because of the brutal blows he sustained to his head. All three of them had apparently been murdered as they slept. In a separate bedroom, Schneider found Carl Steltzenreide. He had been struck so often, apparently with an ax, that he was nearly decapitated. His body was sprawled on the bloodstained floor, and it was later surmised that he had been roused from his bed by noises in the house and struck down as he attempted to come to the aid of his family.

As Schneider looked frantically around, he realized blood was on the floor, spraying wildly onto the walls and staining the room's ceiling. He saw chips and indentions in the plaster that were later determined to have been made by a "Maddox," a combination tool with the head of an ax and a large blade resembling a garden hoe. 

The only survivor of the carnage was the family dog, Monk. He was found lying on the floor next to Anna's bed, keeping watch over the bodies of the mother and her children. Monk was known to be very protective of the family and downright vicious toward strangers. This fact would lead investigators to believe that the killer, or killer, was someone known to the family. They also thought the killer entered the house through a rear door, first killing Anna and the children. Carl was killed when he heard the struggles in the bedroom, and Frederick was killed last. He had been sleeping on a lounge near the front of the house and was murdered after a hand-to-hand struggle with the murderer.

Schneider quickly left and summoned help. The authorities called nearby Belleville for assistance, and several sheriff's deputies and detectives answered. Soon after arriving, Deputy Sheriff Hughes discovered footsteps leading away from the house. As they were examined, it was noted that the prints had been made by boots cobbled with heavy nails, making them very distinctive. Hughes also found indentions in the ground that looked like someone dragging a heavy ax had made them. He followed the tracks for about a mile, and at the end of the trail, he found a pouch of partially chewed tobacco covered with blood. He deduced that the killer had been wounded during his attack on the family and had attempted to stem the bleeding with chewing tobacco. This popular folk remedy was believed to draw the infection from a cut. The footprints, and the bloody tobacco pouch, led the police to the home of Frederick Boeltz, the brother-in-law of Frederick Steltzenreide. 

Boeltz was married to Anna Stelzenreide's sister, and there had been a dispute between Boeltz and Frederick Steltzenreide because $200 that Boeltz had borrowed and never repaid. The two had quarreled over the debt several times. Boeltz was friends with an itinerant farm worker named John Afken, who had once worked for the Steltzenreide family and harbored a grudge against Frederick. Afken was a large and powerful man who made his living as a "grubber," a backbreaking occupation that involved clearing trees and rocks from farm lots. He was considered an expert with an ax and other hand tools and was feared by many because of his quick temper. He also possessed another characteristic of interest to the investigators – he had a full head of light red hair.

Carl Steltzenreide had died clutching a handful of hair precisely the same color.

The bodies of the Steltzenreide family were prepared for burial by ladies from the Zion United Church of Christ in Millstadt. This gruesome task was carried out in the Steltzenreide barn, which still stands on the property today. 

The original barn stands on the Stelzriede land since it was built.

The corpses were in such horrific condition that a number of the women became sick while washing them and had to be relieved. The killer had savaged the bodies so severely with his ax that the adults were nearly decapitated, and the children were bloodied and pummeled beyond recognition. It was brutality like nothing these small-town folks had ever seen before.

The family was laid to rest on Sunday, March 22, at Frievogel Cemetery, just a few miles from their home on Saxtown Road. The news of the massacre spread across the region in newspaper accounts and even appeared on the front page of the New York Times. The terror and curiosity that gripped the area brought more than 1,000 people to Stelzenreide's funeral service.

Immediately after the burial, Deputy Hughes arrested Frederick Boeltz and John Afken on suspicion of murder. Boeltz initially resisted arrest but then demanded to be provided with a bible while locked away in the Belleville city jail. Afken, on the other hand, was said to have displayed an uncanny lack of emotion. He accompanied the officers to jail and remained silent while in custody. During the Coroner's inquest that followed the arrest, Boeltz refused to face the jury, and when shown photographs of the victims' bodies, he refused to look at them. The two men were brought before a grand jury in April 1874, but the jury could not indict them. They believed there was insufficient evidence to connect them to the murders. Both suspects were released a week later. 

Although the authorities could not indict their main suspects, the investigation into the two men's activities and motives did not end. Investigators believed more strongly than ever that Boeltz was somehow involved in the murders, and they based this on the fact that the cash and valuables inside the Steltzenreide house had been undisturbed. They believed there was a motive that was darker than mere robbery for the crime – and that Boeltz was definitely involved.

Just a few days before he was killed, on March 16, Frederick Steltzenreide confided to some friends and neighbors that he had just received a substantial inheritance from relatives in Germany. He was at an auction when he broke the news and was seen carrying a large willow basket covered with an oilcloth. Rumor had it that the basket contained the inheritance, which Frederick had collected at the bank just before attending the auction. 

The Steltzenreide estate was reportedly worth several thousand dollars at the time of the murder. Investigators surmised that the wholesale slaughter of the family might have been an attempt to wipe out all of the immediate heirs to the estate. They believed that Frederick Boeltz, motivated by his dislike for Frederick Steltzenreide and his belief that he would inherit the money because of his marriage to Anna's sister, had hired John Afken to commit the murders. It was a viable theory to explain the massacre, but the police could never make it stick.

Boeltz later brought suit against the Steltzenreide estate to collect whatever money he could. He was eventually awarded $400, and soon after, he and his family moved away from the area and vanished into history.

John Afken remained in the Millstadt area, and the legend is that he was often seen carrying a gold pocket watch. When asked where he had gotten such an impressive timepiece because it seemed much nicer than anything he could afford, Afken would only smile. Some whispered that the pocket watch looked exactly like one that Carl Steltzenreide once owned.

The Steltzenreide home was torn down in August 1954. According to a report in the Millstadt Enterprise newspaper, the property owners, Leslie Jines and his family, were "glad to tuck the tale out of the way with whatever ghosts are there." The owners found it easy to get rid of the cursed, old house, but the ghosts that lingered there were not so easily dismissed. 

Randy Eckert was a more recent owner of the property and a house that stands at the site. In 2004, he told a reporter from the St. Louis Post-Dispatch that he believed the land where the murders took place was haunted. His first experience occurred when strange noises awakened him and his wife one morning. They both heard the sounds of doors opening and closing in the house, although nothing was disturbed. They weren't the only ones to hear something. The family dog, sleeping at the foot of the bed, was also awakened by the mysterious sounds and was terrified and shaking. Eckert added that the sounds were repeated many times over the years, always around the anniversary of the murders.

Chris Nauman, who rented the house from Eckert in the early 1990s, reported his chilling occurrences: "It was 6 o'clock in the morning, and there was a loud knock on the door. At the same time, my girlfriend heard someone walking up the steps in our basement." Al startled by the sounds, Nauman quickly checked the front door and the basement stairs but found no sign of visitors or intruders. The next day, he shared his story with Randy Eckert, asking him about the anniversary of the Steltzenreide murders. Eckert confirmed it for him – the ghostly happenings had occurred on March 19, the anniversary of the murders.

Nauman still remembers the effect this had on him, "A cold shiver ran up my spine."

To this day, the slaughter of the Steltzenreide family remains unsolved. While many suspects have been suggested over the years, there is no clear answer to the mystery. The area where the house once stood along Saxtown Road has changed very little since 1874, and it's not hard to imagine the sheer terror of those who lived nearby after news of the murders began to spread.

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HOW MILLSTADT GOT ITS NAME.  Although the village name was officially spelled as “Centerville” in the records of the Recorder of Deeds of St. Clair County, the German settlers usually used the European spelling of “Centreville.” George Kuntz was appointed the town’s first postmaster on June 7, 1843. When the application was first made for a post office at “Centreville,” that name was rejected in Washington, DC, since there was already a post office in Centreville in Wabash County, Illinois. 

It is reported that the petitioners then translated the name “Centreville” into German and came up with the name 'Mittlestadt' or 'Middlestadt.' Either the writing was not clear, or the officials in Washington could not read the German writing because the name that was approved was “Millstadt."

Thus from 1843-1878, the people in town lived in Centreville but got their mail at the Millstadt Post Office. On September 14, 1878, the Board of Trustees of the Village of Centreville passed a revised ordinance to change the village's name to the ‘Village of Millstadt,” so the village name and the post office name were the same. 

"Several times have we been called on to record deeds of blood and villainy. And now, we undertake to record the most appalling crime in this State in several years. An investigation by an official revealed a scene that would make the stoutest heart quail. Should the discovery of the murderer have been made by the neighbors of the murdered family assembled around the bodies at the Coroner's inquest, there would have been no need for a judge or jury, for the excited populace would surely have torn them limb from limb."

Like many others, the Stelzriede family immigrated to southern Illinois from Germany.

They settled in a small rural track of land known as Saxtown, about five miles south of today's Millstadt, which remains steeped in German heritage today.

Saxtown in 1874 was a small, close-knit collection of families trying to survive by farming the land amid an economic depression.

On March 17, 1874, when Benjamin Schneider needed to borrow some potato seeds, he ventured to his neighbor's small log cabin home.

Schneider noticed the Stelzriede land was quiet. Nobody was bustling around doing the family chores. The horses and cattle had not been watered or fed. Schneider knocked on the front door.

There was no answer.

He looked in the windows. Nothing. Schneider went back to the front door and walked inside. What he found was the aftermath of a crime so gruesome it would eventually captivate the entire nation.

65-year-old Carl Stelzriede was lying in a large pool of blood, throat cut from ear to ear, his body nearly decapitated.

In the next room was his 36-year-old son Frederich, skull crushed and throat slashed.

Next to him was his 28-year-old wife Anna and their children, three-year-old Karl and eight-month-old Anna. All had been bludgeoned to death, believed to be by an axe.

The bodies were all found cold.

Word of the Saxtown murders blared on the front page of the New York Times.

Meanwhile, the small German farming community was horrified.

So what happened that horrific day in Saxtown? Police began looking backward.

About six weeks before the Stelzriede family was brutally murdered, a German farmer was shot and killed in broad daylight. Later, another farmer was nearly beaten to death in his wagon.

Before the murders, Frederick Stelzriede told some friends he had just received a substantial inheritance from Germany.

The Stelzriede estate was reportedly worth several thousand dollars at the time of the murder. Police now tied themselves to the theory that the murder of the family was intended to eliminate all heirs to the estate.

Police discovered that very little was taken from the home, leading them to believe the motive was personal.

Two separate rewards of $1,000 were offered to solve the crime, but that caused more problems. Private investigators soon flocked to Saxtown, hoping to claim big money, giving police tips on nearly everyone.

There was one survivor of the carnage of Saxtown, the family dog, Monk. He was found lying on the floor, quietly watching over the bodies.

Monk was said to be vicious toward strangers, so police believed the murderer was someone who was friends with the family.

And there were suspects.

Frederick Boeltz, who had a poor reputation in Saxton before the Stelzriede family's slaughter, was the first name on the list.

Boeltz was married to Anna Stelzriede's sister and had borrowed $200 ($5,325 today) from the Stelzriede family and never paid it back. That debt led to a long-standing feud with Frederich Stelzriede.

Police theorized Boeltz believed he would inherit the family farm and money if he was the only living relative, which gave him motive.

Inside the home, police found blood-covered tobacco. Outside, they discovered footprints leading away from the house.

Next to the footprints were large marks in the ground, which officers speculated had been made by someone dragging an axe as they walked.

For more than a mile, police tracked the prints to see where they led.

Along the trail, they found a pouch of tobacco covered with blood. They walked and walked until the footprints came to a stop right at Boeltz's front door.

After initially resisting arrest, Boeltz was charged with murder. At his trial, according to the paper, he "almost fainted at the ghastly sight" when shown pictures of the bodies.

For reasons lost to history, the jury found Boeltz not guilty. He later sued the Stelzriede estate and was awarded $400. He moved away from Saxtown and was never seen again.

Police then turned to a second suspect. A friend of Boeltz named John Afken also occasionally worked for the Stelzriede family.

Like Boeltz, he had a long-running grudge against Frederich Stelzriede. Afken was a large and powerful man who made his living with an axe.

He also had a bad temper and was feared by many in Saxtown. But he had one other characteristic that interested the police the most: He had the brightest red hair in town.

In fact, it was the exact same color as a clump of hair Carl Stelzriede was found clutching as he lay dead in a pool of blood.

Afken was taken to jail but was later released for reasons unknown.

Unlike Boeltz, he stayed in Saxtown. Legend says from then on, he would always carry an expensive gold pocket watch with him. If he was asked where he acquired such an impressive piece on his small salary, Afken just smiled.

Carl Stelzriede once owned an identical pocket watch.

Eight more suspects would eventually be arrested. All ended up being released.

On March 22, 1874, more than 1,000 people attended the Stelzriede family's burial.

Shortly after that, money came from relatives in Germany to have the family's remains moved to the more well-kept Walnut Hill Cemetery in Belleville, where an obelisk was being constructed in the family's memory.

But when a grave digger appeared to move the bodies, Saxtown residents rushed to the scene and blocked his path. And they brought their weapons, which may have included an axe. The grave digger left empty-handed.

There is no Saxtown today, just a short, winding country road. If you head west from Millstadt, Freivoel cemetery will be on a hill to your right. There you'll find tombstones from the 1800s, many rendered unreadable by the erosion of time.

That cemetery is where Stelzriede's family was buried, but you won't be able to find them.

They are in five unmarked graves, next to a family member who died years earlier.

Meanwhile, 10 miles away at the Walnut Hill Cemetery, the nine-foot obelisk towers over the grounds paying tribute to the slain family.

Incredibly, after the Saxtown murders, the log cabin stood. Longtime Millstadt resident Butch Hettenhausen had family grow up in the house.

"I have a picture of my mother in the house," he said. "It's dated 1905, so she would have been about five years old."

The cabin stood until 1954 when it was torn down. According to Millstadt Enterprise, Leslie Jines was the owner and decided enough was enough. "We are glad to tuck the tale out of the way with whatever ghosts are there," Jines said.

But the barn that hosted the horses and cattle on that gruesome night still stands tall, with hatchet marks visible in the wood.

In 1986, Randy Eckert, who lives nearby, bought the land and built a small house on the cabin site. Eckert, who was raised in Millstadt, was always intrigued by the legend of Saxtown.

"I always wanted to buy that farm," Eckert said. "I decided to live in the house for a couple of  years."

That did not last long.

Eckert said he and his wife noticed strange things happening every year around the anniversary of the killings.

One event has never left his mind.

"We were sleeping, and we had this small dog, and the dog woke us up. It was just shivering like crazy," he said. "My wife got up and said, 'Do you hear something?' and I said, 'Yeah.' Then all of a sudden, we heard a dog howling from like 100 years ago."

Then it got stranger.

"Then we heard someone pounding on the door. The door to the house has glass windows, and it's a tiny house. One step out of the bedroom, and you can see the door, and that door was bounding. Somebody was beating on that door," he said. "I walked straight to the door, never seeing anybody out the window, and the closer I got, the sound disappeared. When I got to the door, there was nobody anywhere."

That was enough for Eckert, who moved out and decided to rent the house.

"I always tell renters the house's history," he said. "You must be in the right frame of mind to live there."

For some reason, the renters don't stay long. Eckert said he's probably had a dozen people move out.

Many reported strange occurrences around the anniversary of the killings, even if they didn't know the date.

But some love the history of the place.

Spencer Shaw is the latest resident.

"I love it here," Shaw said. "When we were looking at moving in, Mr. Eckert told us the history of the house, and we were like, 'Oh my God, that's so cool!'"

Shaw says despite being so far out in the country, his front yard is a busy place. "Cars are driving past the house all the time. They slow down and take pictures. It's like I live in a famous place."

So far, Shaw has yet to experience anything that rivals Eckert's. But he knows the big test is in March.

"The anniversary. That's when everything is supposed to happen around here. I plan on staying. Of course, my mind could be changed."

The Belleville Advocate wrote 1874: "The Saxtown murder will pass into history with the additional word 'mystery' pinned to the name."

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Anna Carlo-Blasi, “Queen of Little Italy," campaigned for better sanitation to fight cholera.

Anna Carlo-Blasi, “The Queen of Little Italy," born Luiga Anna Chiariello, migrated to Chicago in 1887. 

Two years later, she married Joseph Carlo, who operated a saloon in partnership with his brother-in-law, Frank Taglia. Carlos' had two children, Antonio and Cecilia. In the 1890s, she was active as a midwife, as a leader in several of the dozen Italian mutual benefit societies of which she was a member and as a driving force in First Ward politics. Allied with the infamous Bath House Coughlin and Hinky Dink Kenna, she gained a reputation as a friend and mediator who could help find jobs and get city services from the pols. 

Carlo-Blasi, a popular midwife, lived at 931 South State Street, used her political connections to campaign for better sanitation in an attempt to fight cholera that was killing many of the newborns she delivered. 

Living in a rough neighborhood, she became the first woman in Chicago to get a permit to carry a revolver. Apparently, she needed the gun; her husband was stabbed to death in a quarrel in 1908.

Informal full-length portrait of Annie Carlo-Blasi standing on a sidewalk facing census taker Philip D'Andrea, who is holding papers, with a man and several small children standing in a grocery store entrance and women standing on the sidewalk behind Blasi in Chicago, Illinois. Carlo-Blasi's nickname: Queen of Little Italy. 1914

After only 16 months, Anna Carlo married Joseph Blasi, a First Ward Republican precinct captain, in an elaborate ceremony at Old St. Peter’s Church attended by many prominent elected officials. Apparently, Blasis' developed some personal ambitions for the elective office. 

In June 1913, the big news in Illinois was the passage of women’s suffrage. Almost from the moment, she became eligible to serve Anna Carlo-Blasi, announced her intention to run for alderman. Newspapers around the country breathlessly carried the story, and then, nothing. No mention of her withdrawal or explanation of what happened. 

Her name seems to have vanished from the Chicago print media until her death in June 1920. Thousands attended her wake and funeral which was one of the largest the city had known at that time. Among the honorary pallbearers were current Mayor William Hale Thompson and former Mayor Carter H. Harrison.

What happened to Anna Carlo-Blasi after she announced her intention to run for alderman? She seemed to have fallen off the face of the earth for 7 years until her death.

---

Chicago Tribune, Friday, June 27, 1913, Page 2 Article:

Mrs. Annie Carlo-Blasi Becomes Equal of Kenna. 

"QUEEN OF LITTLE ITALY." 

Plans Reform, but Won't Fight "Hinky Dink" or Coughlin.

With the signing of the woman's suffrage bill by Gov. Dunne yesterday there came into existence automatically a new factor in Chicago downtown politics and one expected to prove powerful in future municipal elections. Chicago has a new "boss." It is Mrs. Annie Carlo-Blasi, for twenty years undisputed "queen of little Italy." 

Mrs. Blasi, who lives at 931 South State street, is better known as Annie Carlo, as her marriage to Blael is recent. Her occupation as midwife, which has served somewhat in her political work, is far from her principal occupation. As a furnisher of bonds in South Clark street, as adviser to the politicians seeking information on the probable Italian vote, and as a person of great influence in swinging votes by the thousand ahe has long been well known.

Now Will Control Votes. 
But her influence hereafter is gotrg to be much greater. Heretofore she has had to tell the women, what their husbands must do, and to issue orders to the men themselves --orders which have generally been obeyed. But now she will control the votes of the women themselves, and forcing them to take an interest in politics on their own account will be able through them to swing more of the men's votes. 

But take office? Not a bit of it. She was urged yesterday to tell why. "I wouldn't fight my friends," she said. "They've been good to me. But I want the women to work and I want them to have jobs. We ought to have women on the police force." 

First to Get Revolver Permit.
She smiled as she remarked proudly that she was the first Chicago woman to be given a license for carrying a revolver. Then she exhibited a medal which had been given her by the boys at Pontiac reformatory, and gave every indication she is going in for reform." 

We will make a clean city," continued the queen boss. "There are not enough street sweepers down here." 

Admiring followers asserted she could get any office she wants. They told of her standing at the polls in snowstorms and rain and slush, telling newcomers where they should mark their ballots, and "helping her friends." They say she already has organization of 5,000 Italian women through the city, with a big organization in the First ward. On Sunday she is going to get her west side force busy by holding a meeting at Forquer and Desplaines streets, with the Incoronata society, of which she is president.

Possibility that the boss would fight the present First ward organization was kicked in the head.

"Sure, I won't." said Mrs. Carlo-Blasi. "John Coughlin, Mike Kenna, Carter Harrison, and Gov. Dunne are my friends. When they need me I will give them the First ward." 

Compiled by Neil Gale, Ph.D. 

The Fabulous Story of Bunny Bread in Anna, Illinois.

The Lewis Brothers Bakery (Lewis Bros.) was established on February 1, 1925, in Anna, Illinois. Brothers Amos, Arnold and Jack Lewis mortgaged their mother's house and used that $300 to open a bakery in a rented log cabin at the rear of the property on West Chestnut Street in Anna, Illinois.

At that time, all the kneading and molding of bread was done by hand. The only machinery consisted of a dough mixer and dough brake. The wood-burning oven was made of 'homemade' bricks with the work done by the Lewis family. The business grew, and in 1926, they moved to 111 North Main Street in Anna.

The bakery operated four trucks, three driven by the Lewis Brothers, A.C, A.S. and Jack. New equipment was installed in the bake shop, bringing production up to 400 loaves per hour. They put loaves in and out of the new coke-fired oven with a long peel.

A Long Pizza Peel.

At that time, the bread was named "Milk Maid" and was baked in twin loaves, unsliced and wrapped by hand. Buns were baked in sheet pans, five dozen to the pan. Besides the Lewis Brothers, there were five other employees.

In June 1929, Lewis Brothers moved to 200 North Main Street and renamed it "Sunlit Bakery." The bread was named "Butternut."

Minnie Pearl presented the live radio show sponsored by "Bunny Bread" at the Grand Ole Opry in Nashville.

More new equipment was installed in this plant. It consisted of two peel ovens, one new mixer, new flour equipment and an automatic bread wrapper for unsliced bread.

In 1930, sliced bread came into the picture. The loaves were sliced on an old-style meat slicer, packed in trays, and wrapped in wax paper. In 1933 they bought their first bread slicer with an automatic wrapper.

A new loaf of bread was added to the production line, called "Big Boy" in 1937. They bought more delivery trucks, and the number of new employees increased again.

In 1941, Lewis Bros. purchased the building from A.A. Crowell, which needed considerable remodeling.

On May 8, 1944, A.C. Lewis, general manager, died after a long illness. The business was reorganized, with Jewel and Charles Lewis owning the building and brother Jack Lewis becoming owner and operator of the bakery. 

In 1947, the company was incorporated with R. Jack Lewis, President Charles Lewis, Vice President; Josephine Lewis, Secretary and Treasurer. More new equipment was added as were new employees, now up to fifty. The weekly bread production reached 75,000 loaves. 

The picture of the rabbit going on bread wrappers was purchased.

The Modern Bunny

They decided they were ready to enter new territory with their latest equipment. In 1950 purchased a site and built a building in Harrisburg, Illinois, opening five new delivery routes, making a total of 17 Southern Illinois routes.

Four Classic Bunny Bread TV Commercials from the 1950s.

"Bunny" became so popular and well known throughout the entire territory that consumers began calling for "Bunny Bread." Bunny Bread was trademarked, and they decided to use it on all Lewis Brothers Bakery products.

Outgrowing the product capacity of their current location, Lewis Brothers purchased a site for a new plant at Illinois 146 (Vienna Street) & U.S. 51 at Anna's eastern city limits. Work began on the new building in April 1951 and opened in February 1952.

The Lewis Bros. threw a Gala for the Grand Opening of the new Bunny Bread Bakery. Over 35,000 people from Southern Illinois and southeastern Missouri attended three days of festivities.

Several new delivery routes opened in 1952, and production reached an all-time high.

The Lewis Bros. purchased the distribution rights to Kirchhoff Bakery (est.1873), Paducah, Kentucky, on January 1, 1953. The purchase opened the Kentucky Territory with routes changing to area-based, using multiple trucks per one of twelve delivery regions. (speedier delivery)

In the early 1970s, after more than 45 years in Illinois, Lewis Bakeries headquarters migrated to 500 North Fulton Avenue, Evansville, Indiana. 

By this time, Bunny Bread was being sold throughout the Midwest, and the Indiana facility was a central location. In 1986, a second Indiana facility focused on producing sweet goods opened in Vincennes.

R.J., Jr. continued to grow and expand the company's Midwestern sales throughout the 1970s and 1980s and developed new lines of modern baked goods. In 1987, the bakery became the first in the country to remove trans fats from its products. In 1991, they began selling the first fat-free, reduced-calorie bread on the market, then introduced a line of low-carb products in 2000. Lewis Bakeries was also innovative in developing half-package sizes of their best-selling products.

While their beloved Bunny Bread brand remains a customer favorite, the company's product line includes the Hartford Farms and Gateway brands. They have a hand in several well-known national products, acting as a wholesale distributor of the Sunbeam, Sun-Maid, and Roman Meal brands.

Lewis Bakeries is one of few independent bakeries left in the Midwest. It's also the largest wholesale bakery in Indiana, with annual sales exceeding $265 million. Lewis Bakeries remains a family-operated business in its fourth generation and continues to run operations from its Evansville headquarters.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.

Contributor, Mary Giorgio, Orangebean

The Yanda Log Cabin, Glen Carbon, Illinois.

The Yanda Log Cabin is believed to have been built by blacksmith William Yanda in 1853.

William Yanda (1818-1885) and his wife Anna Zeola (1823-1901) were immigrants from Bohemia, Austria. They and their ten children lived in the cabin. Their oldest son, Frank (1846-1912), also became a blacksmith. 

He practiced his craft in other towns and eventually returned to the log cabin 1882 with his wife, Anna Benda (1845-1912). Frank and Anna raised eleven children in the cabin. 

Frank sold the cabin to his son Frank Jr., who was one of the early mayors of the Village of Glen Carbon. Frank Jr. did not have any children. Several descendants of the Yandas' lived in the cabin before it was eventually sold.

James Harry Lister, originally from England, named the village in 1892 when a post office was established. Lister was one of the first village trustees and a specialist in opening mines and installing mining equipment. Lister called the village "Carbon Glen," which means Coal Valley. Reportedly, his daughter said it sounded better when you reversed the words to Glen Carbon.

By the time it was sold, the cabin had undergone many modernization, and it was considered just an ordinary house. The plan was to use the house as a practice burn by the Village Fire Department. 

When the vinyl siding was removed to do so, the historic log cabin was discovered underneath! All plans for burning it were halted. The Village of Glen Carbon bought the lot with the existing house built around the cabin in 1989. 

Renovation began that same year and concluded just in time for the Village's Centennial Celebration in June 1992. The cabin now serves as an addition to the Glen Carbon Heritage Museum, a reminder of the past before Glen Carbon was incorporated.

Compiled by Dr. Neil Gale, Ph.D.