The Mystery of the Towboat Corpse

The towboat Rival

 

During the early 20th century, the rivers of Pittsburgh were choked with enormous barges laden with coal, iron ore and other natural resources which allowed Pittsburgh to earn its nickname as the Steel City. Multiple barges-- sometimes a dozen or more-- are often lashed together and this is referred to as a "tow". These tows are pushed by square-bowed vessels known as towboats. So, despite its name, a towboat doesn't actually do any towing. It just pushes something called a tow, while a tugboat is the boat that does the towing.

On July 30, 1920, the steamboat Rival, a towboat owned by the Rodgers Sand Company, docked at Birds Run Landing in Pittsburgh after making stops at Brownsville and Homestead on the Monongahela River. It was the engineer of the Rival, J.M. Stephens, who entered the ballast bunker and discovered a lifeless, bloody body of a stowaway partially buried beneath a pile of coal. Stephens reported his discovery to the captain, Charles Sloane, and Sloane notified Allegheny County authorities. Neither the engineer, the captain, nor any of the crew members had ever seen the man before. They had no idea how, when, or why he had gotten aboard the vessel, and no identification was found of the body. However, the initials "J.S." were found on the dead man's shirt and underwear, while the initials "J.S.G." were found inside his hat. But things got even stranger after the body of the unidentified passenger was taken to the morgue.

Mystery at the Morgue

A closer examination of the body by Deputy Coroner Hugh Dempsey revealed that the passenger had suffered serious head injuries, though the coroner's physician believed the man might've suffered a seizure during the night and had struck his head as a result. Others, however, including County Detectives John Geisler and William Black, suspected foul play after the autopsy revealed that the head injuries had caused the man's death. There were also multiple facial injuries which couldn't be accounted for by an accident. Deputy Coroner Dempsey believed that the man had been dead for 36 hours. Detectives couldn't be sure if the man, who was dressed in working clothes, had boarded the Rival illegally during its stop in Brownsville or Homestead-- or if someone had carried him onto the towboat. He was recorded in the morgue records as "unknown white man", age "about forty-five".

Meanwhile, as hundreds of curious rivermen visited the morgue to view the mysterious corpse, detectives armed with photographs of the body visited river towns from Glassport to Homestead in search of clues. As it turned out, several union railroad workers were involved in a violent altercation with non-union workers near the Homestead coal wharf on July 29. The towboat Rival had docked at the Homestead wharf that same day, leading detectives to wonder if the man may have been killed during the melee. But there were several flaws in this theory-- none of the crew had witnessed anyone getting onto the boat, and the condition of the body suggested the murder had taken place much earlier. 

 
A Wife's Confirmation, A Mother's Denial

On Friday, August 6, a woman named Mary Scott arrived at the morgue and identified the body as that of her estranged husband, 38-year-old Samuel Scott of 5113 Home Street in the Pittsburgh suburb of Lawrenceville. Mary hadn't seen her husband since June 19 of the previous year, when he disappeared after an argument. Things took another bizarre turn two days later, however, when the parents of Samuel Scott went to the morgue, viewed the body, and insisted that the dead man was not their son. Not only that, Mr. and Mrs. John Scott declared that the dead man didn't even bear the slightest resemblance to their son. They asked the morgue-keeper of they could examine the corpse for scars and birthmarks Samuel was known to have, and their request was granted.

"That is not the body of my son, Sammy," declared Mrs. Scott. "There are marks on my boy that he carried from birth and early childhood. I could not be mistaken. The hair on his head has a much darker color than my boy's. My boy was taller and his hair much lighter. He was a blonde. No, that's not my boy. Of that I am positive."

A brother-in-law also visited the morgue and reached the same conclusion-- the woman who claimed to be Samuel Scott's wife was lying. But why?

Detectives wondered if there may be a financial motive for the conflicting identifications. The Scott family stated that Samuel had taken out a life insurance policy several years before his disappearance, but detectives were unable to find a copy of the policy. If Mary Scott tried to collect on her husband's policy, then there was a pretty good chance that she was trying to pass off the body of a stranger as that of her estranged husband. Suspecting that the real Samuel Scott might still be alive, detectives widened their search. They contacted authorities in New York, where Samuel was last known to have worked.

The following day, August 9, Mary Scott returned to the morgue and once again declared that the body was that of her husband. This time she brought along three neighbors, all of whom agreed with her. In an attempt settle the debate once and for all, Mary made a bizarre request-- she asked for the dead man's eyeball to be removed and examined by a specialist, claiming that Samuel had a cataract in his left eye. But things soon took another twist.

On August 10, two railroaders, M.F. Scanlon and John Higham, examined the body and stated that it was not Samuel Scott. The men had worked alongside Scott for years, but it turned out that they had been sent to the morgue by Samuel's parents to help solidify their claim. Not to be outdone, Mary Scott sent a relative by marriage, C.B. Smith, to view the corpse and declare that it really was the body of Samuel Scott. For the coroner, Samuel Jamison, this back-and-forth tennis match was more than an annoyance; the mystery murder victim (if a murder had really taken place) had been dead for two weeks, and it was a really hot August in Pittsburgh. The remains would soon need to be either buried or burned.

Allegheny County Morgue

A Possible Break

Unfortunately, the embalming fluid used to preserve the body had produced the opposite effect on the eyeballs of the dead man, making the examination impossible. Samuel Scott's parents told reporters that the presence of a cataract, or lack thereof, would make no difference. They were certain their son was still alive. So certain, in fact, that they vowed not to make any attempt to collect on his life insurance. This suited Samuel's wife just fine, and she had no qualms arguing that she was entitled to the insurance payout. 

Meanwhile, police announced that they had identified two suspects in the case, based on a tip they received from a dock night watchman who claimed that, in the early hours of morning before the body was found, he had seen a small motorboat pull alongside the towboat in the darkness while it was moored in Homestead. Detectives concluded that this was the only possible way the body could have been smuggled aboard. 

But why would the murderers go to such extraordinary lengths instead of dumping the body in the river? Detectives struggled to answer this question, but the explanation might have something to do with geography and the towboat's itinerary. The first stop had been in Brownsville, which is located in Fayette County, while Monongahela City is in Washington County. Homestead and Pittsburgh are situated in Allegheny County. Unless the Allegheny County authorities could prove conclusively that the murder occurred within the boundary of Allegheny County, there would be no legal way to prosecute the case. While dumping the body in the river might produce a similar result, there was always the possibility that the remains would never be found. It was almost as if someone had wanted to be certain that the body would be discovered.

City Detectives William Reese and William McReady, however, saw their possible leads go up in smoke; the two suspects were nowhere near Pittsburgh in late July. Louis Bolster, a police Bertillon expert who specialized in determining identity based on facial measurements, compared the facial structure of the man in the morgue with known photographs of Samuel Scott. He, too, concluded they were not the same person. 

The Coroner Makes a Decision

Despite Bolster's conclusion, Deputy Coroner Hugh Dempsey declared that the body of the man found in the ballast bunker of the towboat Rival was Samuel Scott-- at least for all practical and legal purposes. This must have been quite a shock for the parents, as Samuel had gone to live with them after separating from his wife. They were the last family members to have seen the man alive. But now, a county official who had never met Samuel Scott in life settled the debate and ruled that the parents had been unable to identify their own son. On August 19, Deputy Coroner Dempsey instructed the morgue to turn over the body to the supposed widow, Mary Scott, and instructed the police to end their investigation.

The police pushed back, however, ordering the morgue not to turn over the body to Mary Scott. Acting Captain of Detectives Robert Patton told reporters that his men had been able to trace the real Samuel Scott to the southwest and promised that they would have his precise location pinpointed in a matter of days. Detectives had a good reason for wanting to prevent Samuel Scott from being declared legally dead-- as it turned out, Scott was wanted by police for desertion and non-support before he disappeared. These details were revealed on August 20, when detectives Reese and McCready announced that Samuel Scott had been in communication with friends and relatives in Pittsburgh since the finding of the body on the towboat. In fact, he had enclosed $50 in a letter to his mother just a few days earlier.

The Widow's Threat

When Mary Scott went to morgue to claim the body on August 20, morgue officials informed her of the the police department's decision. She became irate, and told the morgue-keeper that if the body wasn't turned over to her immediately, she would hire an attorney and take legal action. On Saturday, August 28, after detectives failed to deliver on their promise of tracking down Samuel Scott, another Pittsburgh deputy coroner, John Black, ordered the morgue to cremate the body for health reasons. 

On the morning on Sunday, August 29, the body was cremated at the county morgue in the presence of Mary Scott and Deputy Coroner John Black-- a body which morgue officials "officially" declared to be that of Samuel Scott. Though Deputy Coroner Black admitted that the official identification may not have been correct, he said that it was now a matter for the courts to decide-- unless Samuel Scott showed up to prove that he was not dead.

 And, as fate would have it, that's exactly what happened next.

The Resurrection of Samuel Scott

On the night of Monday, August 30, a man walked into the offices of the Pittsburgh Post. The well-dressed man identified himself as Samuel Scott. Standing over six feet in height and ruggedly built, this stranger in no way resembled the man newspaper reporters had viewed on a cold slab at the county morgue. Scott told the Post that he was prepared to turn himself in to the authorities and answer to the charges of non-support and deserting his wife. According to Scott, after leaving New York he headed to the Midwest, where he found work on a farm. It was one of his brothers who had written him, telling him that he was supposedly lying dead in the Allegheny County Morgue. Samuel Scott's brother had also told him that he, along with another brother, had been questioned by police as possible murder suspects.

"As soon as I received this information I immediately decided to return and clear them of any suspicion of having caused my death," stated Scott. "Sounds funny, doesn't it?" When the newspaper editor informed him that his wife was planning to have the dead man's ashes buried at a local cemetery in the morning, Scott laughed uproariously. 

"I just had to come home," he said, "even if it was only to attend my own funeral. When I learned that I was a dead man I wrote to my brother-in-law, Joe Gilmore, that I would be home for my funeral, and for him not to worry about flowers for my casket. You see, I kept track of what was going on by reading The Post. Well, to make a long story short, I gave up my job in a harvest field Saturday, packed my trunk, drew what money was coming to me and arrived at the home of my parents early Sunday evening... But I didn't know until I arose in the home of my parents yesterday morning that my body had been cremated and that the ashes were to be buried. Gee, that sort of made the cold chills run down my back." 

Samuel Scott was so amused by the news of his death that he, along with his brother-in-law, took a trip to the morgue.

"Well, we went to the morgue and looked around. They seemed to know Gilmore there, but no one paid any attention to me. This was because I was dead, I suppose. I saw some ashes of bodies that had been cremated in jars. I did not recognize any of them as mine." 

But, surely, Mary Scott knew all along that the man at the morgue was not her husband. So why did she go to such extraordinary lengths to say that it was? One can only surmise that the detectives had been correct-- she simply wanted her hands on the insurance money. Of course, Mary was never charged with any wrongdoing, as the insurance company never paid out the claim. However, Scott told the Post that he had tried to send his wife money on several occasions, but that she had refused to accept it. He added that he had always been willing to support his wife and that their separation was not of his choosing.

Nevertheless, Scott was tossed into a cell at the Lawrenceville police station after he turned himself in and given a preliminary hearing by Magistrate P.J. Sullivan, who denied bail. Mary Scott was beside herself with anger when her husband returned from the dead (no doubt because his return caused her to lose out on the $1,000 insurance payout), and the former dead man was disheartened by the possibility that he would have to remain in jail for an indefinite amount of time. He said that, if he had it to do all over again, he would've remained in the harvest fields.

"I came back simply to remove the suspicion of murder from my brothers, James and George. The body was identified and cremated as mine. I was officially declared dead and here I am locked in a cell with no indications that I will soon be released. I've done nothing to deserve such treatment."

Fortunately, Samuel Scott didn't languish in confinement for too long. He appeared in court on September 8 before Judge Miller, who ordered him to pay his wife support in the amount of twelve dollars per month.

An Enduring Mystery

The funeral for Samuel Scott was never held on the morning of August 31, 1920, as planned, and the jar of ashes were placed into the morgue closet with dozens of similar jars containing the ashes of unidentified bodies that had been cremated. The jar was marked with a label, simply reading "Unknown", and a photograph of the dead man was pasted onto it, in the slim chance that someone, someday, would come forward to clear up the mystery of the man who was murdered and his body dragged aboard the towboat Rival. But that is one mystery which has never been solved, and probably never will be.

As for the towboat Rival, which was built in 1903 at Marietta, Ohio, she continued to operate for several more years, until she was renamed the William B. Rodgers, after the founder of the sand company. The murdered body found aboard the Rival on July 30, 1920, was just one colorful chapter in the life of this sternwheel steamboat; she caught fire off the Point at Pittsburgh while hauling coal in 1914 and the cabin was partially destroyed. The date was also July 30. She later sank at the Rodgers Sand Company landing in Pittsburgh on July 23, 1919, but was raised, repaired and put back into operation.






Sources:

Pittsburgh Press, July 30, 1920.
Pittsburgh Post, July 31, 1920.
Pittsburgh Post, Aug. 9, 1920.
Pittsburgh Post, Aug. 10, 1920.
Pittsburgh Post, Aug. 13, 1920.
Pittsburgh Press, Aug. 18, 1920.
Pittsburgh Post, Aug. 19, 1920.
Pittsburgh Post, Aug. 21, 1920.
Pittsburgh Post, Aug. 29, 1920.
Pittsburgh Press, Aug. 30, 1920.
Pittsburgh Post, Aug. 31, 1920.
Pittsburgh Post, Sept. 1, 1920.
The University of Wisconsin-La Crosse Historic Steamboat Photograph Collection