Welcome to a new weekly feature here at Wighthouse called The Ropes, as in “know ‘em”! As I do research for the comic, I sometimes come across interesting bits of trivia that I’d like to share with my readers. For example, did you know…
…a scrapyard on Chicago’s southeast side houses a permanent resident?
A lot of things get thrown out in junkyards, sometimes, even a human being. Andreas von Zirngibl, which should easily be the best name you’ve heard today, was born in 1797 in Bavaria. He fought against Napoleon in Waterloo, although not without losing an arm. In 1854, von Zirngibl took his family across the sea and rested on the shores of the Calumet River.
When von Zirngibl died in 1855 from a fever, he asked that he be buried on his land. Easy enough request, considering it was a sparsely-populated swamp. As it does, though, time swept along this landscape, bringing with it the Industrial Revolution. Eventually the Calumet and Chicago Canal & Dock Co. encroached on von Zirngibl’s gravesite, prompting his descendants to sue. Despite suspect claims to the land itself, the judge allowed the burial place to remain, with access granted to relatives for upkeep. The ruling applied to any future company on the site.
That’s why SIMS Metal Management still has, among crushed cars and mounds of tires, a pristine slab with von Zirngibl’s headstone on it, surrounded by four huge concrete blocks. It’s not the original headstone; a wayward crane smashed one of its incarnations in 1999. The veteran’s grave is certainly one for any curious Chicagoan’s bucket list, but check with the company before you waltz in: they should let you in, if you have the appropriate safety precautions. As the saying goes, always wear your helmet.
Sources: Eternal Rust, Chicago Tribune, 5 May 1999
Photos of von Zirngibl’s gravesite (and surroundings) at Graveryards.com
Bonus goodie: everything’s on Yelp these days.
Join us next week when go down the Mississipp’ to a haunted French fortress!

I couldn’t let this chapter go (don’t worry, there’s still a bit left) without this homage. I’m far more familiar with the NIN version, but Joy Division gave it life.
Welcome to a new weekly feature here at Wighthouse called The Ropes, as in “know ‘em”! As I do research for the comic, I sometimes come across interesting bits of trivia that I’d like to share with my readers. For example, did you know…
…dolphins can detect electricity?
Scientists in Germany have discovered that beyond echolocation, the Guiana dolphin also has the capacity to sense electrical fields of short-distance prey. The electro-sensory structures are located in pits in the upper jaw. Such pits have been found in fish and amphibians, but dolphins are the first true mammalian example. What’s more, scientists believe we can someday evolve this sense, too!
But until that day, I hope you’re thinking what I’m thinking: GHOST-HUNTING DOLPHINS.
Source: Electric dolphins: cetaceans with a seventh sense
Join us next week when we go back to the graveyard!
Welcome to a new weekly feature here at Wighthouse called The Ropes, as in “know ‘em”! As I do research for the comic, I sometimes come across interesting bits of trivia that I’d like to share with my readers. For example, did you know…
…Chicago’s Lincoln Park used to be the city cemetery, but it’s only got one tomb left?
Today, Lincoln Park alongside Lake Michigan is known for its rolling greenery, its numerous bike trails, and its upscale inhabitants. But underneath it all, Chicago once buried its dead. In 1843, City Cemetery began accepting burials between North Ave., Clark St., Wisconsin St., and the lake. It contained a Jewish cemetery, as well as a potter’s field where 4,000 Confederate soldiers met their end after enduring Camp Douglas.
Being the only public cemetery within city limits, space filled up fast. With crowding came ramshackle maintenance and a concern for public health, as cholera outbreaks were common at the time. In 1857, a plotholder in City Cemetery, Ira Couch, died while on vacation in Cuba. A grand tomb costing $7,000 (nothing to sneeze at back then) was erected in 1858, even as demands came from the people to turn the cemetery into a park.
A year later, Rosehill Cemetery opened, followed a year after that by Graceland Cemetery. Both graveyards were miles from Chicago, far away from the populace. People began moving their families from the flailing City Cemetery into its more spacious, rural counterparts up north. By 1866, burials had ceased entirely; disinterments went on until 1895, until Lincoln Park’s transformation was complete…except for the lonely Couch tomb.
Why does the Couch mausoleum remain in Lincoln Park? A monument to the past? A bold piece of funerary art? Nope; no one wanted to put up the scratch to move it to the family’s plot in Rosehill. (Oddly enough, Ira is listed on the “new” family grave marker.) Instead of paying the ~$3,000 to have it removed, the Lincoln Park Commissioners planted a bunch of trees around it and tried to forget it existed. And as so often happens, the tomb gained its own notoriety, prompting passersby to wonder just what the heck that thing’s doing there. Now you know! (Presumably.)
Some other tidbits about the old cemetery:
- The Chicago Fire rampaged through it in 1871, supposedly burning many wooden markers and rendering gravesites lost. This has led to bones being dug up during area excavations.
- An even older cemetery, from before Chicago’s incoporation, resided south of Lincoln Park, between Chicago and Oak Streets. You may recognize this location as the home of Water Tower Place and the John Hancock Tower.
- No one knows for sure just who is buried in the Couch mausoleum. Record keeping tended to be spotty at best. The tablets flanking the vault’s door seem to have never been inscribed. According to various accounts, as many as 13 and as few as zero could be enshrined.
Source: the extremely thorough Hidden Truths website by Pamela Bannos, with much research and ephemera relating to Lincoln Park’s conversion. Check it out!
Join us next week when we take to the ocean depths!







