In these times of everyone being apart, we can still stay connected. Find us at any of these local hangouts. We would love to hear from you!
Email (new!): GraveyardSnoop – at – gmail.com
Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/graveyardsnoop
Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/MizSnoop/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/GraveyardSnoop
Catch up with Part 1; Part 2; Part 3; Part 4
And just like that, she was gone.
Lady Bledzo failed to make her two court appearances on Nov. 7, 1927, and seemingly vanished. There were a few casual mentions in newspaper articles reminiscing about her ex-boyfriend, Yellow Kid Weil, but never again was in she in the news for herself, and never again under that name.
It was her curious name that drew me to this story in the first place, and its disappearance convinced me that I could never know her true ending. What I had seen of her life didn’t promise a good finish. I resigned myself to the idea that she probably died somewhere seedy, unknown and alone.
Continue reading “Unearthed: Lady Bledzo (Pt 5)”Catch up with Part 1; Part 2; Part 3
The summer of 1927 had been the peak of drama for Lady Bledzo. As part of her very public lawsuit against ex-fiance Darby Day, Jr., she had appeared in national newspapers. She garnered the support of sympathetic and powerful media. She had provided letters, photos of injuries, and compelling and dramatic testimony about abuse. Lady Bledzo had given it her all.
And yet it failed utterly.
Content warning: This post discusses domestic violence. It includes photos, discussion, and depictions of physical abuse.
Catch up with Part 1 and Part 2
Chicago, 1926
The first half of 1926 was mostly thorns, few roses for Lady Bledzo. In just four short months, her boyfriend (and chief funder) “Yellow Kid” Weil went to prison; she was attacked by his wife; she moved from hotel to hotel; and her face was cut up in a car crash.
Whatever Lady Bledzo was trying to achieve in life, this was probably not it.
Poised on a spare desk in the Chicago Avenue Police Station, Lady Bledzo didn’t look like she’d just come from a fight. In her crisp white suit and jaunty tie, with a fur across her lap, she looked like she was ready to go shopping.
But excursions to Wieboldt’s or anywhere else would wait.
There had been a fight, right on the sidewalk, and now there were reporters eager to hear her side of things. Lady Bledzo posed for photos and smiled at their questions.
She was happy to oblige.
Graveyard Snoop 