The Tale of Katie Bredehoft or How to Conduct an Investigation

 By Rachel Dworkin, archivist

Bredehoft marker, 2026

 

On April 14, 2026, the Chemung County Historical Society unveiled our latest historic marker on Bancroft Road. It marks the spot where a group of boys found the body of Katie Bredehoft in the creek under a bridge on January 6, 1884. She had been murdered there by her fiancé William Menken two days earlier. Bredehoft was a German immigrant and resident of New York City. She had been in Elmira for less than a week at the time of her murder. Upon learning of her story, I wondered how the police had ever identified her, let alone solved her murder.

 

Sketch of crime scene from Elmira Advertiser, 1884

Police today have a number of advantages when it comes to identifying unknown victims. For fresher finds, there are fingerprints. They were first used in 1882 as part of a wider system of biometric data on people being arrested collected by the Paris police department by clerk Alphonse Bertillon. By 1892, a detective in Buenos Aires, Argentina, had successfully used fingerprints found at a crime scene to identify a suspect. By the 1900s, fingerprinting became widely used. In 1999, the United States introduced the Integrated Automated Fingerprint Identification System (IAFIS). The database, which is maintained by the FBI, contains fingerprints from convicted criminals, as well as anyone fingerprinted for employment, immigration, or other purposes. Today, one out of every six Americans is in the IAFIS database. As an immigrant, Katie Bredehoft would have been in the database if she were murdered today.

DNA is another valuable tool. Like fingerprints, everyone’s DNA is distinct. Unlike fingerprints, however, the DNA of related individuals is similar enough that unidentified victims can be identified through their relatives. In 1998, the FBI launched CODIS (Combined DNA Index System), a national DNA database that includes convicted criminals, missing persons, and families of missing persons. Since 2020, immigrants have also been required to submit DNA samples for CODIS. In addition to using governmental databases, there are a couple of cases where police departments across the nation have turned to commercial DNA databases to identify both victims and criminals. In 2017, investigators used the personal genomics website GEDmatch to identify the family of the Golden State Killer, eventually leading to the conviction of Joseph James DeAngelo Jr. In 2023, police in San Diego used 23andme to find the relatives of an unidentified woman killed in 1986.

In addition to fingerprints and DNA, since 2005, the FBI has maintained a database of dental records called the National Dental Image/Information Repository (NDIR). The database contains dental records of known missing persons and unidentified remains. When someone is reported missing by their family, the police request their records and upload them to the database. When an unidentified body is found, x-rays of their teeth are crosschecked against the database. While a modern Katie Bredehoft would have been in IAFIS and CODIS, she was never reported missing. She and her killer, William Menken, were supposed to be heading to their wedding in Baltimore.

Of course, the detectives handling the Bredehoft investigation in 1884 didn’t have access to any of those technologies and database. Instead, they relied on the public to help identify her. On the Monday after her body was removed from the ice, it was taken to the morgue where literally hundreds of people were invited to come view it. She was placed, frozen, in a doorway adjacent to a hallway through which the viewers would pass. On the Wednesday following her discovery, local photographer Charles Tomlinson took a series of photographs of her face and body.

In the end, the method bore fruit. Mrs. Tubbs, a housekeeper at the Delaware, Lackawanna & Western train depot, recognized Bredehoft as one half of a couple that she had seen getting off a train the morning of January 2nd. Another woman, Mrs. Kelly, who ran an eatery where the couple had stopped for lunch on the day of the murder, also recognized Bredehoft. Moreover, she provided the clue that lead to the identification of her killer. William Menken had a nasty scar and glass eye. While at Kelly’s eatery, he asked her if Norton still lived in the area.

Sketch of Menken & Bredehoft from Sunday Tidings, 1884

 

As it turned out, William Menken had been imprisoned at the Elmira Reformatory for burglary until 1882 when he was paroled to work under supervision at the nearby Norton farm. Thanks to the carefully maintained records at the Reformatory, officials were able to quickly identify Menken as the man seen with their unidentified victim. They tracked him to his sister’s home in Flatbush, New York. Detectives in New York City quickly learned that Menken had been courting a Miss Katie Bredehoft. Using Tomlinson’s photographs, her younger sister, Mary, confirmed that the body found in Elmira was that of her sister. Within four days after the discovery of her body, the police had found her killer and successfully identified her body thanks, not to forensic technologies or databases, but to the power of crowd sourcing.

Menken was tried and convicted twice for the murder. The first time was in Elmira, but verdict was thrown out when it was learned that the jury had gone to inspect the crime scene themselves. A new jury was impaneled in December 1884 in Binghamton. They too found him guilty. He was hanged on July 2, 1885.

True Crime Reporting

By Rachel Dworkin, Archivist

 

On March 15, 1964, 12-year-old Mary Theresa Simpson went missing after heading home from her cousin’s house. After a few hours of waiting, her father called the police. For the next few days, the police combed the city looking for her. On March 19^th, a trio of hikers stumbled across her body in a wooded area just off of Combs Hill Road in Southport. 

Mary Theresa Simpson

 This March, I received multiple research requests about her murder from self-identified true crime enthusiasts.

People’s fascination with true crime is nothing new. Beginning in the 1500s, British publishers began printing thousands of pamphlets and broadsides describing the exploits of various criminals. The publications tended to focus on the gory details of especially violent or unusual crimes and often carried strong moralizing crime-doesn’t-pay messages regarding the criminals’ eventual comeuppance. By the 1700s, America had its own criminals and presses with which to write about them. Newspapers provided readers with minute-by-minute accounts of crimes, manhunts, and trials as they unfolded.

The 21^st century is no less interested in true crime than our ancestors, although today the format is a bit different. TV documentaries about crime and criminals first gained popularity in the 1980s. Hits shows like Unsolved Mysteries and America’s Most Wanted, which presented new, real-life, stories each week, captivated audiences. In 2020, the streaming platform Netflix brought Unsolved Mysteries back. After the success of their documentary series Making a Murderer (2015), Netflix quickly became the king of the true crime docuseries with over 11 shows focusing on different cases.

True crime podcasts got their start in 2014 with Serial, the first season of which focused on the murder of 18-year-old Hae Min Lee in Baltimore in 1999. The podcast was an instant hit. Since its release, it has been downloaded 340 million times, making it the most downloaded podcast in the world. Its popularity spawned literally hundreds of copycats.

In US, women make up 73% of consumers of digital true crime media. Studies show that people who listen to true crime are more likely to be afraid of being victimized themselves, although it is unclear if that is a result of consuming true crime or the reason they seek it out. There are numerous complaints against true crime. The genre has been criticized for the way third parties make money off of other people’s trauma, often re-traumatizing them in the process. Some works blend actual facts with fictional elements and rampant speculation in ways that can give audiences distorted views of the case.

The true crime genre isn’t all bad. The first season of Serial, for example, helped shine a light on a miscarriage of justice that lead to a man being released from prison. Shows like Unsolved Mysteries and America’s Most Wanted have actually helped to solve crimes. The original run of Unsolved Mysteries helped spark renewed interest that lead to the solving of 260 cold cases. America’s Most Wanted helped lead to the capture of 1,400 wanted fugitives and the recovery of over 60 missing children.

In 1964, the local press gave extensive coverage to Mary Theresa Simpson’s murder. The day after her body was discovered, 50 men, including an Elmira Star-Gazette reporter, did a sweep of the area where her body was found. They uncovered her glasses, several buttons off her blouse, and an assortment of trash. Every part of the search was documented by the reporter’s camera. The newspaper coverage included interviews with her family, a timeline events, search photos, a map of the crime scene, and a detailed description of the girl’s body. In the days following her murder, the Star-Gazette and WELM Radio offered a reward of $1,000 for any information leading to her killer’s arrest.

Search in the area where Mary's body was found

 

Patrolman Robert Loomis with button found during search

 

The police were hard at work on the case. They established a joint special task force consisting of officers from the Elmira PD, state police, and Chemung County Sheriff’s Department. Together, the task force interviewed over 300 people across multiple states including some as far away as Arizona. Seven suspects agreed to submit to a lie detector test, but no one was ever charged. After six months, the task force was dissolved. After a year, the reward money fund was donated to the Arctic League in Mary’s honor.

Eight years later in October 1972, the Star-Gazette re-ran the details of the Simpson murder and offered $5,000 for information leading to an arrest. They created a special system for accepting anonymous tips that could still let people collect the reward. Over the next few months, tips flooded in. The Elmira Police Department briefly re-opened the case, but ultimately, nothing came of it. To this day, Mary Theresa Simpson’s murder remains unsolved. 

 

Star-Gazette's instructions on submitting tips to the secret witness program, 1972

By all accounts, Mary was a shy girl. Her family moved around a lot and she struggled to make friends. She was wary of strangers and once turned down a ride from an uncle because she didn’t know him well. No one except her killer knows how she ended up dead on Combs Hill. Maybe the renewed interest in her case will lead to justice, or at least answers. We can only hope.

Murder at the Glen

by Erin Doane, Curator

Sometime ago, I came across a tale of murder told by Ausburn Towner in his history, Our County and Its People. While Towner was writing in the early 1890s, the story was from some 50 or 60 years earlier. The incident took place in a pretty glen that was later the site of the Rorick’s Glen amusement park from 1901 to 1918. In the 1830s and 1840s, people would go to the glen for picnics. Brewster Tuthill ran a big flat scow on the river bringing stone from a nearby quarry into the town. He would also transport parties of picnickers to the glen.

Towner tells the story of one of those parties. Rather than retelling it in my own less-lyrical way, I will share what he wrote:

A picnic there one summer day is indelibly impressed on the minds of more than one now elderly person in the city. Just as the scow was ready to start an Italian with his hand-organ and monkey hove in sight, and was instantly engaged to furnish the music for the occasion. Many of those, both young ladies and gentlemen, belonging to the best families in the village were among the picnickers, and everything was conducted in the most decorous manner, but in some way the monkey was shot dead. The exhibition of grief displayed by the Italian was something very pitiable. He moaned and wept, and embraced the dying dumb creature with a display of as much emotion as a mother would manifest over a wounded child. It ruined the picnic, cutting it short by many hours, and although a purse of nearly $50 was made up for the Italian it didn’t soothe nor console him in the least, and he quitted the party with the little dead body in his arms.

This story just brings up so many questions: What happened that someone felt the need to shoot the monkey? Why was a young gentleman, or lady, from one of the best families in the village carrying a gun at a picnic? Did the picnickers honestly think that $50 would take away the man’s grief after they had murdered his pet/business partner?

Stuffed monkey toy, early 20^th century

I searched and searched for more information about the story but came up emptyhanded. I have no way of proving if Towner’s story is entirely true or if it is just one of those stories based on a real event that got change and exaggerated over time. I did, however, find some information from the 1890s that might help me try to answer some of the questions the story brought up.

Let’s start with why the man was still upset by the death of the monkey even after being given $50. Well, obviously, his pet had just been shot in front of him and died in his arms. I imagine that would be thoroughly upsetting to anyone and not easy to shrug off. On a more practical level, the monkey was likely not just an animal on a leash; it was his means of earning a living. The man would have spent countless hours training the monkey to dance and do tricks. An article that appeared in the August 27, 1898 Elmira Telegram describes how a fantastically-dressed monkey would dance to hand-organ music, turn summersaults, take coins and put them into its pocket, take off his hat and bow, and shake hands with people. The picnickers’ offer of $50 would have been the equivalent of about $1,400 today. A tame, perfectly docile monkey cost around $15 (or about $390 today) according to an 1890 ad in the Elmira Telegram. The cost of a new monkey (not wild but not trained) plus the time and effort that would go into training it may have been much greater than the money offered.

From the Elmira Telegram, September 28, 1890

Next, why would someone have brought a gun on the picnic? Now, this answer is pure speculation on my part. This story took place sometime in the 1830s or 1840s when Elmira was much smaller. The town’s population was between 3,000 and 5,000 in those years. The glen would have been out in the countryside, in the wilderness. It sort of makes sense that someone might choose to carry a gun in that case.

And finally the big question, why would someone shoot the monkey? Well, monkeys are wild animals. They obviously can be trained to wear cute little outfits and dance around but they have also been known to attack people. I found several newspaper reports of trained monkeys injuring people. On June 30, 1894, the Star-Gazette reported on Leland Smith, a ten-year-old boy whose hand was bitten by such a monkey.  On July 21, 1910, the newspaper reported that an organ grinder’s monkey, while in an ugly mood, leapt at the young daughter of Mrs. Miller of Corning and inflicted painful scratches. The musician and his monkey were ordered out of town. It is entirely possible that the monkey at the picnic in the glen fell into a bad mood and was thus shot. There is no way to know for sure without finding other reports of the incident, but it seems like a reasonable guess.

From the Elmira Star-Gazette, May 5, 1894

Executions in Elmira

by Erin Doane, curator

During the 19^th century, more than 90 people were executed in New York State. Three of those executions took place in Elmira.

Henry Gardner – Executed March 1, 1867 for the murder of Amasa Mullock

Henry Gardner was a soldier with the 12^th Regiment of the United States infantry stationed at the Pickaway Barracks in Southport. The 24-year-old from Ohio was one of many soldiers who came through Elmira during the Civil War. Amasa Mullock was an old man who was well-known about Elmira. On December 29, 1864, Gardner robbed Mullock of $300-$400 and a watch then beat the man to death with his musket.

Nearly three months later, on March 19, 1865, a group of soldiers were rambling in the woods about a mile and a half from Elmira when they came upon Mullock’s body. His head was terribly mangled and the rest of his body showed signs of violence.

Gardner was the last person seen with Mullock before he disappeared in December. He was arrested, tried, convicted, and sentenced to death. Hanging was the prescribed method of capital punishment at the time. Gallows were erected in the Chemung County jail yard in Elmira for the execution. Before the sentence was carried out, Gardner spoke to the crowd that had gathered to watch the hanging. He spoke of his misdeeds and declared that “liquor is the ruination of any man.”

The hanging was described as “bungled, horrible and revolting.” Gardner was dropped through the trap three times before finally dying. If that was not bad enough, his body was then turned over to Dr. P. H. Flood, a local Elmira physician. Flood embalmed and mummified Gardner’s body and kept it on display in a glass case in his office for many years. Eventually the body was moved into the cellar of Flood’s home then out to a barn on the property. A group of boys found the body in the barn and stole it. They put it in a vault at the brewery at the foot of East Water Street and set it on fire. Police found the charred remains and briefly investigated the “murder” before discovering that the body was that of Henry Gardner.

Peter H. Penwell – Executed July 20, 1877 for the murder of his wife

Peter Penwell was a resident of the Town of Erin. In December 1871, he married a woman from Toledo, Ohio whom he had known for just a week or two. He was in his late 50s at the time. About five years into their marriage, Penwell became jealous of a “magnetic quack” who was paying a great deal of attention to his wife. As a way to end their troubles as a couple, Penwell and his wife decided to poison themselves with arsenic. He gave his wife a large dose that put her on her sickbed without killing her and he took a smaller dose that was said to have made him crazy. Penwell’s father had died in a madhouse so mental illness was not unknown in the family.

On March 10, 1876, Penwell borrowed a razor from a neighbor, claiming that he needed to shave. He went into the room where his wife lay sick and chopped her to death with an old ax. He then cut his own throat with the borrowed razor. Penwell’s wound was not serious enough to kill him.

When he was first arrested, Penwell admitted to the crime. He said he had committed the murder in a jealous rage. Later he denied killing his wife. He was tried, convicted, and sentenced to death. It was reported at the time that all agreed that he had committed the crime but some questioned the punishment. An Albany newspaper called it a “judicial murder.”

The gallows were constructed in the space between the old and new jail buildings in Elmira and a high board fence was built around the yard to keep out the immense crowd that gathered for the execution. Soldiers from the 110^th battalion were even called in to keep the crowd under control.

About 250 people were admitted into the enclosure to witness the hanging. Penwell was attended by three ministers. His last words were of thanks to the sheriff and his family for the kind treatment he had received leading up to the execution. He then turned to the sheriff and said, “I am ready.” Unlike with Gardner’s hanging ten years earlier, Penwell’s execution was flawless and he died almost instantly. 

Joseph Abbott – Executed January 6, 1882 for the murder of George Reed

Joseph Abbot was described as “a tall, stoop-shouldered man with a beardless face and an evil look in his deep black eyes.” On September 14, 1879, he robbed a man named Brown of $5.50 and a silk handkerchief on a highway near Rome, New York. He was arrested and taken to Utica. On the way, he made a desperate attempt to escape. He jumped off a rock ledge, swam across a canal, and ran one and a half miles through a swamp before being recaptured. He was sentenced to the Elmira Reformatory for highway robbery.

While incarcerated, Abbott worked in the Reformatory’s hollowware shop making pots and kettles. George Reed was another inmate working in the shop. He was serving time for grand larceny. Some sort of argument took place between Abbott and Reed in the shop on April 10, 1880. Abbott found a 4-foot long, 1-inch diameter iron rod and hit Reed in the back of the head with it. He beat Reed several more time then returned to his work station.

The morning of his execution, Abbott had beefsteak, potatoes, toast, cake, and coffee for breakfast. He spent some time speaking with family, friends, and reporters. Abbott’s brother was by his side but his father was serving a life sentence in Connecticut State Prison for murder. The sheriff read the death warrant inside the jail because Abbott did not want to stand out in the cold listing to anything, then they proceeded to the gallows in the north jail yard. He was attended by three clergymen. Sources report that there were anywhere from 40 to 150 witnesses at the execution.

The 26-year-old’s final words were, “Good bye, gentlemen; in my death you witness a terrible injustice.” Abbott was hanged at 11:15am but his neck did not break. He was left to strangle for about five minutes before losing consciousness. He was declared dead by physicians 14 minutes after the hanging. His body was taken by train to his hometown of Waterbury, Connecticut to be laid to rest.