From its fascinating caves, dangerous mines, and mysterious mountains to the hex magic practitioners and spooky tales that haunt its towns, folklore infuses every hill and hollow of Western Maryland. Prepare to meet the colorful characters who kept life exciting in Maryland’s westernmost counties, like the locals who never met a poisonous snake they didn’t love and a well-read twentieth-century cave dweller. Travel historic highways and byways straight into frontier Maryland’s darkest history, where an axe murderer cleaved the peaceful mountain night in 1830 and a little-known monster lurks in a place ominously called Spook Hollow.

Most Americans know that William Howard Taft was president of the United States and chief justice of the Supreme Court. But his life and legacy contain much beyond that, especially in his hometown.

He fought to put crooks away in court, and he fought for ethics and integrity. He made judgements that made him unpopular. Beyond the law, he and his wife, Nellie, were influential in the city’s arts and culture, including the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra. For all of this and more, he is remembered today as one of the Queen City’s greatest citizens.

The Land of Enchantment lives up to its name when it comes to Route 66—and stories of the paranormal. With not one but two paths to explore, the Mother Road winds through New Mexico's mountains and deserts, past ghost towns and thriving cities, and boasts more than its fair share of haunts.

Budville, once a thriving hub and stopover between Albuquerque and Grants, now lies deserted, except, perhaps, for the spirit of the last person to call it home. The whistle of a phantom train can sometimes be heard chugging alongside the highway in Tucumcari, and in Glenrio, an abandoned town that straddles the New Mexico–Texas border, the spirit of a murder victim is rumored to inhabit one of the last buildings standing.

Even the New Mexico Mining Museum plays host to the spirits of miners who once worked in the uranium capital of the world, and in Gallup, the Hotel El Rancho boasts not just Hollywood credentials but tales of otherworldly encounters.

The rat-a-tat of machine guns echoes at the site of Al Capone's St. Valentine's Day Massacre. The ghost of Louisa Luetgert makes the occasional appearance on the grounds of the old Luetgert Sausage and Packing Company—her husband, the “Sausage King,” cooked her down in a vat of meat tenderizer in 1897. Ghostly screams ring out and dogs get their hackles up at the site of serial killer H.H. Holmes's “Murder Castle” on West 63rd Street. Hundreds died at the Iroquois Theatre fire in 1903—inspectors had overlooked violations that made the venue on West Randolph Street a veritable tinderbox. Today, passersby are greeted by cold spots and pleas for help from the long-dead and perpetually tortured. The City with Broad Shoulders is burdened by souls whose lives were stolen and are seemingly in pursuit of justice and comfort—or perhaps vengeance. Author Eva Pilch guides readers on a citywide tour of the most haunted crime scenes in Chicago.

Since the city of Milwaukee’s first Mass in 1835 in the home of the Catholic and future first mayor of Milwaukee, Solomon Juneau, Milwaukee’s history and growth have been closely entwined with Catholicism. In the archdiocese’s first century, nearly 70 parishes were founded across what would become Milwaukee. Germans, Irish, Slovenians, Poles, Mexicans, African Americans, Kashubs, and many others found not only spiritual homes within these parishes but vital centers of faith, culture, and community for generations. Diocesan priests and religious orders alike, such as the Jesuits, Pallottines, and Salvatorians, shaped neighborhoods and left lasting marks on the city’s religious and architectural landscape. This book provides an excellent example of why Milwaukee is referred to as the “City of Steeples