Morbid Real Estate: July Edition

 

Like many states, Pennsylvania does not require real estate agents to disclose whether or not a death has occurred inside a house unless asked directly-- and even then it's a gray area, as real estate agents don't like to see their commissions go up in smoke (and before you mention something about "code of ethics" among real estate agents, bear in mind that car dealerships, mechanics, lawyers and other unethical types also have so-called codes of ethics). In the handful of states with laws requiring sellers and agents to disclose deaths on a property, such rules only concern murders and suicides which have occurred within the previous one to two years. 

But what if you're thinking about buying a property in Pennsylvania and have concerns that someone might've croaked inside your future home in a most unnatural way fifty years ago? Or a hundred years ago?

Well, I'm here to help... and, maybe even strike a blow for homebuyers against the unbridled greed of real estate agents, mortgage lenders, private equity firms and half-assed house-flippers who think that it's perfectly acceptable to ask $375,000 for a two-bedroom, one bath with a leaky roof and shag carpeting that hasn't been properly shampooed since the Watergate hearings. 

 

 

1. Pottsville, Schuylkill County. 716-718 West Market St. $475,000.

First up, we have this charming five-unit multi-family property at 716-718 West Market Street in Pottsville, Schuylkill County. It's been on the market for 156 days and is being sold "as-is" (cash only), so rest assured that this sweet pile of bricks is as well maintained as Frida Kahlo's eyebrows. There are no pictures of the interior, so I can only surmise that at least four of those five units have kitchen cabinets that don't stay closed, the perpetual aroma of cats and, umm, shag carpeting that hasn't been properly shampooed since the Watergate hearings. But, on the bright side, you're conveniently located to the Yuengling Brewery, so there's that.

With an asking price of just $475,000 this is an absolute steal-- at least until your tenants find out that this address figured prominently in a cruel unsolved murder committed in July of 1890. Sadly, a dead infant was discovered in an outhouse which was once located in the rear of 716 West Market Street. After an investigation, the coroner's jury rendered a verdict that the child "came to its death from causes unknown and was placed there by parties unknown."

 

 

741 Church St., Reading

2. Reading, Berks County. 741 Church Street. $275,000.

Next, we have this four-bedroom home at 741 Church Street in Berks County's garden spot, the city of Reading. Experience breathtaking views of the Pagoda (just don't go there after dark), enjoy an early morning jog though the reclaimed industrial site just a stone's throw away from your back door (conveniently located next to the homeless shelter on North 6th Street and the other homeless shelter on North 6th Street), and shop at the world-famous VF Outlets (oh wait, they closed down). Well, there's still the Berkshire Mall with the abandoned Bon-Ton condemned by the fire marshal, backed-up sewers and parking lot full of sinkholes.

741 Church St.

 

How much would you pay to live in such close proximity to these dazzling attractions? Well, if you answered $275,000, you would be correct. To sweeten the deal, this charming historic property also comes with a dozen storage units, ideal for storing everything from stolen catalytic converters to all those used hypodermic needles you collected jogging through the homeless shelter parking lot.

 

741 Church St.

And, as if that's not enough, this 1500-square-foot property may even come with a restless spirit! On December 23, 1937, a 62-year-old man named Albert Robinson hanged himself inside the home. Robinson, a bookbinder by trade, was a rather colorful fellow with a fondness for writing controversial letters to newspapers; in 1931, one of his letters to the editors of the Reading Times contained a glowing review of Al Capone and Benito Mussolini, with the especially endearing line: It is not my purpose to defend crime, but what is the matter with Capone?

 

 

Of course, it's not unusual for an old house to have witnessed its fair share of deaths and tragedies, but there is one particularly sad tragedy associated with 741 Church Street, involving a man from Shenandoah who died there in 1901. On September 30, Franklin Shappell was in Reading visiting his daughter and son-in-law when he received a telegram informing him that his wife was critically ill and that he should return home immediately. The shock was so great that Franklin collapsed in the middle of the dining room floor. A physician, Dr. Fenstermacher, was summoned, but by the time he arrived, Franklin had died. As it turned out, the telegram had been sent in error (Mary Shappell lived to a ripe old age, passing away in 1927 at the age of 82).

 

740 Chestnut St., Kulpmont

3. Kulpmont, Northumberland County. 740 Chestnut Street. $732/month.

While nobody has been murdered inside our next home, which is now a rent-to-own property in Kulpmont, Northumberland County, it deserves a spot on this list because it was built on the site of a notorious nightclub and boarding house once known as the Roseland Cafe (later known as Kovey's Tavern). Back in 1946, this boarding house was the scene of the murder of Joseph Graff, who was shot to death by a fellow boarder named Adam John Lucks on May 25. Lucks, who claimed that he had been bullied by Graff, was found guilty of murder in the second degree and sentenced to 10-20 years at Eastern Penitentiary. Unfortunately for Lucks, he died in prison less than two years later. I guess you can say Lucks' luck ran out. In the 1960s, the property-- now abandoned-- was declared a fire hazard and torn down. 

 

The 3-bedroom home that occupies the same spot at 740 Chestnut Street in Kulpmont was erected a few years later for the family of Joseph Mirarchi, who lived there until the owner's death in 1999. About a decade later, the property became known as a "party house" shared by three roommates-- one of whom was later found dead in the backseat of her car.

On the morning of October 13, 2011, the partially nude body of 22-year-old Kortni Ann Kenenitz was discovered inside of her 1999 Pontiac Grand Prix, which was parked in front of the home. Kenenitz, who shared the home with her boyfriend, John Tym, had consumed drugs and alcohol while partying in Mount Carmel and Girardville the night before her body was found. Tym told police that Kortni had crushed up tramadol tablets and snorted them, but as to how the victim's body got into the backseat is a matter of conjecture, as Tym told authorities that he had "blacked out" after the night of partying.
Today, the home is listed on Apartments.com where it is offered on a rent-to-own basis for $4,000 down and $732 a month, which doesn't seem like a half bad deal for a 1,056-square-foot home that also comes with a one car garage.

 

420 W. Walnut St., Lancaster

 

4. Lancaster, Lancaster County. 420 West Walnut Street. $595,000.

Finally, we have have this exquisite 19th century townhouse in the Chestnut Hill section of Lancaster. This 4-bedroom, 3.5 bath 1,741-square-foot home, located at 420 West Walnut Street, manages to retain its historic character while boasting modern features such as stainless steel Viking appliances, a walk-in shower, recessed lighting and central air. But is it worth the $595,000 asking price? Well, that all depends on whether or not you'd be freaked out living in a home where a crippled woman burned to death.

420 W. Walnut St.

 

In the 1920s, 420 West Walnut was occupied by the Gable family. The Gables' 40-year-old daughter, Elsie, was an invalid and had been in poor health for ten years prior to her untimely death in 1921. On the night of May 10, Elsie's sister, Hannah, was ascending the cellar steps with a candle when she was met at the head of the stairs by Elsie. What happened next cannot be explained, but somehow the fabric of Elsie's nightgown came into contact with the flame, which soon enveloped her completely.

 

Elsie's screams attracted Hannah's husband, who was reading in an upstairs bedroom. He attempted to save the life of his burning sister-in-law by throwing a blanket over her, and he rolled her on the floor until the fire was extinguished. Unfortunately, the burns were too severe and Elsie died eleven days later. While Elsie Gable's death was neither murder nor suicide, it was certainly unnatural. And who knows? Maybe a potential homebuyer armed with this morbid historical tidbit can negotiate a better deal. 

 

Got a tip on a house for sale with a morbid history? Let us know! Contact us at PAoddities@gmail.com.