Terrifying & True | The Unsolved Terror of The Axeman of New Orleans

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You're asleep in your bed, all
cozy under your covers, with your favorite

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pillow under your head, when suddenly
you feel a sense of danger and you

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open your eyes to see a figure
standing over you holding an axe. He

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attacks you, maybe kills you,
or maybe not. But one thing's for

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certain. The axe man is loose
what you were about to beat you,

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he spur to you. Based on
witness accounts, testimonies, and public record,

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this is terrifying and truth one of
the scariest things to think about as

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an adult, especially one living alone, is the idea of an unwonted visitor.

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Even worse yet, realizing you have
such an intruder while you're already in

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bed nodding off going to sleep.
This is nightmare fuel for many people,

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especially those like myself who live alone. But down in New Orleans, known

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as the Big Easy, things aren't
so simple and they're definitely not so easy,

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as in the nineteen hundred someone began
attacking people with an axe at night

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from inside their very beds. We'll
dive deep into this story of the axe

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Man of New Orleans after these quick
words. On a dark and damp night

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on March eighteenth, nineteen nineteen,
the air of New Orleans was filled with

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the sound of jazz. It wasn't
a night for partying, though. People

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were scared, very scared. They
played jazz not to celebrate, but because

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they feared for their lives. This
fear was due to a scary situation in

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the city. A mysterious person was
going around hurting people badly. This person

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sneaked into houses at night and hit
people in the head with a hatchet or

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acts. The worst part, these
tools often belonged to the victims themselves or

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were found nearby. It was like
a nightmare come to life. This person

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was like a monster hiding in the
shadows, making everyone in New Orleans very,

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very scared. They would do anything, even play jazz all night,

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if it meant keeping themselves and their
loved ones safe. This is the tale

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of the Axemen of New Orleans,
a specter of terror who over a century

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ago, turned nights into nightmares and
homes into scenes of horror. For a

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long stretch of time, starting in
May nineteen eighteen and lasting until October nineteen

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nineteen, the people of New Orleans
lived in deep fear. They were haunted

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by a mysterious figure they called the
axe Man. This horror began when a

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shopkeeper named Joseph Maggio and his wife
Catherine were found horribly murdered in their home

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above their shop on May twenty third, nineteen eighteen. While they slept.

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Some one had cut their throats with
a razor and then hit their heads with

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an axe. The police, trying
to solve the crime, found bloody clothes

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that the killer had left behind.
It looked like the killer had changed into

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clean clothes before running away. Nothing
was stolen from the house, even though

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there were valuable things all around.
A strange message written nearby in chalk said

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something about missus Maggio. The police
interrogated a ton of people, but didn't

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have enough proof to keep anyone.
Not even two months later, another shopkeeper

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named Louis Bessemer and his lady friend, Harriet Lowe were attacked just like the

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Maggio couple early on June twenty seventh, nineteen eighteen. They were also found

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bleeding and mutilated. The police grabbed
someone they thought might be guilty, but

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they had to let him go.
The newspapers talked about the incident a lot,

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especially with the woman present being the
man's mistress. Harriet tried to fix

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her face with surgery because it had
been damaged, but she did not survive.

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Before dying, she pointed her finger
at Bessemer himself. They locked him

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up for months, but later a
jury he decided he didn't do it after

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having questioned him for ten minutes.
Then, on August fifth, a woman

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named missus Edward Schneider, who was
almost ready to have a baby, woke

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up to a scary sight, a
shadowy person standing over her. She got

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hid in the face over and over. Her husband came home from work and

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found her. She was covered in
blood, but she managed to survive and

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had a healthy baby just a few
days later. Again, the police made

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arrests but were not able to prove
anything. Just like that. Only five

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days afterward, an old shopkeeper named
Joseph Romano was hit in the head in

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his home. His nieces heard noises
and saw a man leaving quickly. Mister

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Romano was hurt badly but could still
walk a little when help arrived. Sadly,

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he succumbed to his injuries. Later
on. The nieces said the man

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they saw was big and dark skinned
and wore dark clothes and a hat every

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time something terrible like this happened.
The police noticed the same things. Places

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were messed up, but nothing was
taken. The bad guy used tools he

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found in the homes, He broke
through the doors or windows to get in,

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and a lot of those who got
hurt or killed were Italian merchants.

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The city was gripped in fear.
Who would be next and why was this

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happening? Everyone was wondering, and
nobody felt safe. The axe Man was

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still out there, somewhere in the
shadows. Reports flooded the police stations with

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sightings of a mysterious axeman prowling the
streets. Desperate to keep their family safe,

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people armed themselves and stood guard through
the night. The city buzzed with

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rumors. One claimed the axe Man
disguised himself as a woman, another that

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he leaped over fences like a shadow
in the night. Amidst this rowing panic,

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the axe Man's violent spree seemed to
pause. The relief was palpable as

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people slowly let go of their fear, trickling back into the semblance of normal

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life. Then, just as the
city exhaled, the horror returned with a

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vengeance. On March tenth, nineteen
nineteen Charles Cortamiglia, a grocer from Gretna,

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a stone's throw from New Orleans.
His wife, Rosie, and their

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little daughter Mary were the next victims
on that dreadful night. Lorlando Giordano,

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their neighbor, and another grocer,
rushed to their aid, drawn by their

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screams. What he found was a
scene of carnage. Rosie had faced the

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axe man, watching in terror as
her husband fought and fell before the assailant

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turned on her and their daughter.
Despite her please, the killer showed no

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mercy, striking them with his terrible
acts. When Orlando arrived, he discovered

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Charles badly hurt, Rosie wounded,
but standing and tragically holding their lifeless daughter.

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The couple survived barely after being rushed
to medical attention for severe head injuries.

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The neighborhood was reeling the fear,
once again, alive and tightening its

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grip around their hearts and minds.
In a bewildering twist, Rosie accused Orlando

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Giordano and his son Frank, of
the atrocious attack. It seemed impossible,

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Orlando aged and frail, and Frank
too large to fit through the door the

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axe man had entered through, Yet
Despite the improbabilities and Charles's denial of Rosy's

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claim, both Giordano's were arrested,
tried, and found guilty in a trial

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that shook the community. Frank faced
the gallows and Orlando faced life in Prince.

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The story took another turn when Charles
divorced Rosy, who later admitted her

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accusations were lies bred from jealousy and
spite. This confession led to Giordano's release,

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but the scars of the ordeal remained. The city of New Orleans was

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shrouded in fear and uncertainty after the
brutal attack on the Cordimiglia family, which

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ended a young life, that of
two year old Mary. This tangible dread

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intensified significantly after a local newspaper,
The Times Picayune, published an alarming communication

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on March sixteenth, nineteen nineteen.
This letter claimed to be from the perpetrator

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himself, the infamous Axe Man.
The contents of the letter, a blend

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of taunts and spine tingling threats,
further escalated the city wide panic. And

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here is the unsettling letter exactly as
it was published hell March thirteenth, nineteen

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nineteen. Editor of the Times Picayune, New Orleans, esteemed mortal. They

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have never caught me, and they
never will. They have never seen me,

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for I am invisible, even as
the ether that surrounds your earth.

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I am not a human being,
but a spirit and a fell demon from

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the hottest hell. I am what
you or Lenians and your foolish police call

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the axe Man. When I see
fit, I shall come again and claim

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other victims. I alone know whom
they shall be. I shall leave no

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clue except my bloody acts, besmeared
with the blood and brains of he whom

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I have sent below to keep me
company. If you wish, you may

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tell the police to be careful not
to rile me. Of course, I

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am a reasonable spirit. I take
no offense at the way in which they

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have conducted their investigations in the past. In fact, they have been so

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utterly stupid so as to amuse not
only me but his Satanic Majesty Francis Joseph,

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etc. But tell them to beware. Let them not try to discover

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what I am, For it were
better that they never were born than for

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them to incur the wrath of the
axe Man. I don't think there is

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any need of such a warning,
for I feel sure that your police will

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always dodge me, as they have
in the past. They are wise and

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know how to keep away from all
harm. Undoubtedly, you or Lenians think

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of me as a most horrible murderer, which I am. But I could

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be much worse if I wanted to. If I wished to, I could

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pay a visit to your city every
night at will. I could slay thousands

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of your best citizens. For I
am in close relationship with the angel of

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Death. Now to be exact,
at twelve fifteen o'clock earthly time on next

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Tuesday night, I am going to
pass over New Orleans in my infinite mercy.

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I am going to make a little
proposition to the people here. It

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is I am very fond of jazz
music, and I swear by all the

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devils in the nether regions that every
person shall be spared in whose house a

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jazz band is in full swing at
the time I have just mentioned. If

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everyone has a jazz band going well, then so much better for the people.

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One thing is certain, and that
is some of those persons who do

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not jazz it on Tuesday night,
if there be any, will get the

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acts well. As I am cold
and crave the warmth of my native Tartarus.

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And as it is about time that
I have left your homely earth,

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I will cease my discourse, hoping
that thou wilt publish this, that it

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may go well with thee I have
been am and will be the worst spirit

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that ever existed, either in fact
or the realm of fancy, Signed the

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Axe Man. Despite the bone chilling
nature of this proclamation, those who have

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scrutinized the letter over the years,
including experts in historical analysis and criminal psychology,

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doubt the likelihood that the true Axe
Man pended. Nevertheless, the letter

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achieved its aim, spreading an unease
so profound that jazz music resonated through the

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homes of New Orleans on that specific
date and time. As the city sought

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to ward off the presence of an
unseen and menacing threat. In an unparalleled

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act of defiance, New Orleans turned
to jazz for salvation. Following the Axe

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Man's chilling promise, not a single
soul was claimed on March nineteenth, as

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jazz filled every corner of the city, Dance halls overflowed, homes became concert

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stages, and the city united in
rhythm effectively silencing the killer's threats. For

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a time, peace seemed to return, but the shadow of fear never fully

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lifted. The quiet was shattered on
August tenth, nineteen nineteen, when another

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grocer, Steve Boca, became the
latest target. Awoken to a nightmarish figure

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and a sharp pain, Boca narrowly
escaped death. Clinging to life, he

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sought help from a neighbor before succumbing
to unconsciousness, the details of his assailant

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lost in the haze of trauma.
His home bore the axe man's signature,

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a chiseled entryway, and no theft. The city's terror was fueled further when

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William Carson, a druggist, survived
an attempt on his life by firing at

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the intruder. The aftermath left behind
a battered door and an abandon axe.

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Merely a day later, Sarah Lawman, a young girl living alone, wasn't

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so fortunate. Found unconscious and badly
wounded. She survived, but the chilling

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sight of a bloodied axe on her
lawn echoed the grim pattern. The atmosphere

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in New Orleans was explosive, a
mix of fear and disbelief as the axe

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Man seemed to vanish as quickly as
he had appeared. However, the silence

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broke again on October twenty seventh,
nineteen nineteen, with the brutal murder of

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Mike Peppotone, a grocer. His
wife, a witness to the aftermath,

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found herself a widow. Her description
of the assailant as elusive as the Axe

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Man himself, leaving behind the usual
cryptic clues, but taking with him a

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life and leaving a family shattered.
Despite relentless efforts by the authorities, the

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trail turned cold. Mike Peppotone's tragic
death marked the last whisper of the Axe

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Man's terror. He vanished into the
night, his shadow forever lingering in the

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lore of New Orleans, a specter
of fear and mystery that had once danced

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with jazz as its unlikely countermeasure.
Once the jazz stopped and the city tried

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to find its rhythm again, an
eerie legend began to take hold. The

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story goes there was an old hotel
in New Orleans, known simply and chillingly

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as the Haunted Hotel. Local tales
whispered that this was where the Axe Man

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hid, nestled in its dark rooms, whilst he planned his next terrifying move.

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The community believed that, even after
his last known crime, his ghostly

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presence never left. Tucked Away behind
the hotel was a small courtyard, a

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place that felt different, unnervingly,
so visitors stepping into this area couldn't shake

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the feeling of unease. Some reported
glimpsing shadows that moved without cause. Others

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told of inexplicable sights, pulls of
blood that appeared only to vanish, and

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mysterious voices captured on recording devices.
And then there were the odd occurrences with

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cell phones, signals, lost batteries
draining in moments, as if the very

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essence of the killer lingered, meddling
with the living. These stories traveled from

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mouth to mouth, each person adding
their own touch, making the haunted Hotel

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a spot of morbid fascination. Though
the Axe Man himself had slipped away,

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leaving a trail of unanswered questions,
the fear he brought to New Orleans seemed

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to find a home in this hotel, haunting the city, just as his

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memory continues to haunt history. Terrifying
and true, as narrated by Enrique Cuto,

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its executive produced by Rob Fields and
Mark Shields. Produced by Daniel Wilder,

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with the original theme music by Ray
Maddis. If you have a story

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you'd like us to cover on the
program, send us an email at Weekly

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so much and we'll see you next
time right here on Weekly Spooky and Terrifying and True