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Post by Sue on May 5, 2021 8:42:43 GMT -5
"The Lone Wolf: A Northern Angle on the Lindbergh Kidnapping"
by Bernice Redpath MacIver
as told to her by her husband Angus Franklin MacIver
Summer 1980
Nord
Many famous folk and a few infamous have crossed my path in the 40 years I have lived in the port town of Churchill on the Hudson Bay. Among the famous I have been privileged to talk with have been Sir George Paget Thomson, one of the early investigators and interpreters of the structure of the atom, Sir Hubert Wilkins, the first man to take a submarine under the ice, and Charles A. Lindbergh, world famous pilot, and his wife while on their flight to the orient.The infamous have been few, but one of these has haunted my thoughts ever since we met..
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Post by Sue on May 5, 2021 13:45:10 GMT -5
It was a summer day of clear, blue sky and brilliant sunshine in 1932 when I met this man. He was young, of medium height, round faced and had a prominent chin that bespoke a determined nature. He came to my door and without the usual courtesies of greeting and introduction asked if I could take him to the old fort.
On learning that he was alone, I suggested that probably I could find others who wished to make the trip and would share the expense, my charge being ten dollars whether my passengers numbered one or more and that I could take five.
I said I would take him and that we would have to go at once in order to catch the high tide.
He enquired the kind of boat I had. I replied that it was a canoe.
"Canoe." The query was quick and sharp.
Many people think of a canoe in terms of a small, narrow, easily tipped craft. To my suggestion that possibly he was afraid, he assured me he was not -- that he knew how to paddle a canoe. I told him we would not be paddling a canoe --- that I was using a large canoe with an outboard motor.
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Post by Sue on May 5, 2021 17:43:26 GMT -5
He did not volunteer a single remark during the half-mile walk to where the canoe was beached at the river bank. Neither did I. The weight of the motor on my shoulder did not leave enough energy to open a conversation.
During the few minutes it took to get the canoe into the water, to gas up and to mount the motor, I tried to break the heavy silence that hung between us like a fog. I introduced myself and mentioned that my work during the greater part of the year was trapping.
There was no response.
I tried again by enquiring where he was from.
"Chicago," was the answer.
"What shall I call you?" I asked, smiling at the same time." What is your name?"
He hesitated a moment, gave me a long stern look and said, "I never tell my name to a stranger."
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Post by hurtelable on May 5, 2021 19:39:26 GMT -5
I have my doubts that this strange visitor to Churchill, Manitoba in 1932 was really the same Hauptmann who we are more certain was actually in Georgia and in Maine at other times during that same year. Remember that transportation to and from distant places was much rougher than it is today. I would doubt if there was any way of getting so far north via auto back then. You would probably have to go by rail, but perhaps you could do it by ship but you would have to get to the Hudson Bay before you would even think of ship travel all the way up there. Air travel was basically non-existent in that era unless you had a buddy who was a daredevil private pilot (think Lindbergh, for one); there were few commercial air passenger flights in the US and almost surely none up to Hudson Bay in Canada. There are too many disparate geographical locations for Hauptmann to have visited so close chronologically to one another. Also, his purported refusal to tell any stranger his name contrasts with what we know about him in Maine and Georgia in that same year.
So the most logical conclusion is that Mrs. McIver, like many others after Hauptmann was arrested an his photo appeared in newspapers around the world, mistakenly ID'd a man with whom she had a previous encounter as Hauptmann. The motivations behind these false identifications probably would be publicity for the witness and perhaps a little chunk of reward money.
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Post by Sue on May 5, 2021 21:02:23 GMT -5
Well, there is a lot more to this long article, but let me jump to a letter to the editor that appears at the end of the article. Obviously, the public was paying attention to this story. Perhaps they were intrigued with the possibility that some of the ransom money could have been buried at Prince of Wales Fort? I don't know who wrote to the editor but the person says:
Dear Editor,
I have just finished reading the Lindberg kidnapping story in your recent summer issue (Summer 1980) and two comments spring to mind.
In the first place, Maclver's contention that the remark "I make good money with canoe" surely establishes the fact that the getaway from the cemetery was made via the small stream nearby (even if the visitor was Hauptmann) seems to be...
The visitor photographed only two of the cannons on the north wall; both were remarkable because they had broken muzzles, and could be photographed with part of the breached parapet as background. Then they descended and "from far to the rear" of that same north wall, the visitor took further photographs.
Secondly, however, and more to the point: IF the visitor was Hauptmann, and IF he (or whomever) buried the bonds (or anything else for that matter) during his hour-long sojourn beyond the north wall, Maclver gives us the clues for its possible location.
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Post by Guest on May 6, 2021 21:39:42 GMT -5
It was a summer day of clear, blue sky and brilliant sunshine in 1932 when I met this man. He was young, of medium height, round faced and had a prominent chin that bespoke a determined nature. He came to my door and without the usual courtesies of greeting and introduction asked if I could take him to the old fort. On learning that he was alone, I suggested that probably I could find others who wished to make the trip and would share the expense, my charge being ten dollars whether my passengers numbered one or more and that I could take five. I said I would take him and that we would have to go at once in order to catch the high tide. He enquired the kind of boat I had. I replied that it was a canoe. "Canoe." The query was quick and sharp. Many people think of a canoe in terms of a small, narrow, easily tipped craft. To my suggestion that possibly he was afraid, he assured me he was not -- that he knew how to paddle a canoe. I told him we would not be paddling a canoe --- that I was using a large canoe with an outboard motor. Thank you for this detailed account of Hauptmann's alleged trip to Manitoba, Sue. It was fun reading but, unfortunately, it does not ring true. There is no exact date for this visit except the year, no word of where he would have camped out, etc. The story sounds cobbled together from newspaper accounts but I hope the guide was able to drum up some business for himself. Please keep posting your great finds, though!!
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Post by Sue on May 6, 2021 22:51:06 GMT -5
The article is a detailed account. The stranger said that he worked for the Chicago Herald, a newspaper that Maclver said he read all the time. Maclver asked if the Chicago Herald had a German edition. Maclver states: "The quality of his English branded his claim a falsehood." The stranger claimed to be Norwegian, but Maclver detected the stranger had a German accent. Mackver said he knew the difference between a Norwegian and German accent. There was a concentration of Norwegian history in that area -- the Norway House, for one. One video shows there was access to Churchill by rail, boat, or plane at that time. One scene shows a canoe having an outboard motor with about five people on board. Bernice and Angus were not fly-by-nights. They were in the Churchill area a very long time. They seem to me to be town historians. He was a trapper, and they both wrote books. youtu.be/31adfPSKKt8
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Post by Sue on May 8, 2021 11:56:28 GMT -5
(An excerpt from the Summer of 1980 Nord article):
Again there was a definite silence before he answered.
He was a newspaper man. The quality of his English branded his claim a falsehood, yet I thought it only courteous to enquire what paper he was with.
"The Chicago Herald," he answered.
The Chicago Herald was the paper I was reading regularly at the time.
A possibility occurred to me.
"Does the Chicago Herald put out a German edition?" I asked.
The answer was swift.
"What makes you ask that?"
"Your English has a German accent," I told him.
Again he was being untruthful. The accents of German and Norwegian are not at all alike and I was familiar with both men and of ships that had been there in early days.
The nationality and the occupation he claimed showed he had little if any regard for the truth. That being so, why had he not given himself some name, any name, instead of arousing my curiosity and making it impossible for me to forget him?
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Post by Sue on May 10, 2021 19:17:36 GMT -5
"The Lone Wolf: A Northern Angle on the Lindbergh Kidnapping"
by Bernice Redpath MacIver as told to her by her husband Angus Franklin MacIver
Nord Summer 1980 Pages 52-55
Many famous folk and a few infamous have crossed my path in the 40 years I have lived in the port town of Churchill on Hudson Bay. Among the famous I have been privileged to talk with have been Sir George Paget Thomson, one of the early investigators and interpreters of the structure of the atom, Sir Hubert Wilkins, the first man to take a submarine under the ice, and Charles A. Lindbergh, world famous pilot, and his wife while on their flight to the Orient...The infamous have been few, but one of these has haunted my thoughts ever since we met.
It was a summer day of clear blue sky and brilliant sunshine in 1932 when I met this man. He was young, of median height, round faced and had a prominent chin that bespoke a determined nature. He came to my door and without the usual courtesies of greeting and introduction asked if I could take him to the old fort.
The old fort, Fort Prince of Wales, is situated at the mouth of the Churchill River across from the town. It was built by the Hudson's Bay Company in the 18th century and 11 years after its completion was captured and partially destroyed in a surprise attack by three French battleships.
I said I could take him and that we would have to go at once in order to catch the high tide.
He enquired the kind of boat I had. I replied it was a canoe.
"Canoe." The query was quick and sharp.
Many people think of a canoe in terms of a small, narrow, easily-tipped craft. To my suggestion that possibly he was afraid, he assured me he was not -- that he knew how to paddle a canoe. I told him we would not be paddling -- that I was using a large canoe with an outboard motor.
On learning that he was alone, I suggested that probably I could find others who wished to make the trip and would share the expense, my charge being ten dollars whether my passengers numbered one or more and that I could take five.
"No," he said, "I want to be alone."
That was surprising. Not only was this an unusual attitude, but his physique and clothing gave him the appearance of a working man to whom ten dollars would mean much more than two.
He did not volunteer a single remark during the half-mile walk to where the canoe was beached at the river bank. Neither did I. The weight of the motor on my shoulder did not leave enough energy to open a conversation.
During the few minutes it took to get the canoe into the water, to gas up and to mount the motor, I tried to break the heavy silence that hung between us like a fog. I introduced myself and mentioned that my work during the greater part of the year was trapping.
There was no response.
I tried again by enquiring where he was from.
"Chicago," was the answer.
"What shall I call you? I asked, smiling at the same time, " What is your name?"
He hesitated a moment, gave me a long stern look and said, "I never tell my name to a stranger."
The rebuff almost took my breath away. A moment later I ventured, "You must have a reason for this. Do you mind telling me what it is?"
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Post by Sue on May 10, 2021 20:21:01 GMT -5
"It's no good in my business," was the reply.
"May I ask your line of business?" I said.
Again there was a definite silence before he answered. He was a newspaper man.
The quality of his English branded his claim a falsehood, yet I thought it only courteous to enquire what paper he was with.
"The Chicago Herald," he answered.
The Chicago Herald was the paper I was reading regularly at the time. A possibility occurred to me. "Does the Chicago Herald put out a German edition?" I asked.
The answer was swift. "What makes you ask that?"
"Your English has a German accent," I told him.
He denied that he was German.
"Then what nationality are you?" I asked.
"Norwegian." There was no hesitation in his response.
Again he was being untruthful. The accents of German and Norwegian are not at all alike and I was familiar with both.
I wondered at a man of his age travelling alone for the purpose of sight-seeing and asked if he were a bachelor.
"No," he replied, "I have a wife."
"How is it she is not with you? Do you ever take her on trips?" I enquired.
"A woman's place is in the house," he made a reply.
I noted the use of the word "house" rather than "home".
By this time all was in readiness and we stepped into the canoe.
"We are directly across from Sloop's Cove," I said. "The tide's right for getting in and we'll go there first."
"What's that?" was his terse query.
"The old harbour. Quite a bit of history there," I explained and went on to name some of the items of interest, the old mooring rings and, chiselled in the rocks, names, some dated in the 18th century, of men and of ships that had been there in early days.
He let me finish and then said, "No, I came here to go to the fort."
Neither of us spoke during the three mile run to the fort, but my mind was occupied with thoughts of my strange passenger. The nationality and the occupation he claimed showed he had little if any regard for the truth. That thing so, why had he not given himself some name, any name, instead of arousing my curiosity and making it impossible for me to forget him?
At the landing place he jumped from the canoe and without a word hurried along the quarter-mile trail to the fort. By the time I had caught up to him, he was reading the explanatory plaques on the wall near the entrance.
When he had finished, we walked into the fort along the corridor-like opening in the forty-foot thick wall.
The ruins of the two-story dwelling caught his interest and excited him to speech. What were those high stone walls? What had happened to the roof? When he learned the fort had been captured by the French from the English, he asked if much of a fight had been put up before the surrender and if the French had plundered (he used the word robbed) the fort. He wanted to know what they had got.
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Post by Sue on May 10, 2021 22:44:39 GMT -5
We climb to the parapet. My passenger examined in detail the breaches in the north wall and asked their cause. The cannon with broken muzzles were of great interest to him, but the others received hardly a glance. The age and make of the guns and the kind of wood in the carriages, subjects of enquiry by most tourists, appeared to be matters of absolute indifference to him.
Suddenly he walked about seventy-five feet away and from a large leather pouch the strap of which was over his shoulder, removed a small camera. Certainly he was making sure that I would not see the other contents. He returned to where I was standing and took two pictures, each of a broken gun with a part of the breached parapet as background.
I thought he had seen all of interest to him by the time the outgoing tide made it advisable for us to return across the river.
"We'd better go," I said. "The tide has dropped several feet and the canoe will have to be carried quite a distance to the water."
Although he did not reply, he came with me at once. However, when we got outside the fort he left me and disappeared around a corner of it.
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Post by Guest on May 10, 2021 22:48:47 GMT -5
"The Lone Wolf: A Northern Angle on the Lindbergh Kidnapping"
by Bernice Redpath MacIver
as told to her by her husband Angus Franklin MacIver
Summer 1980
Nord
Many famous folk and a few infamous have crossed my path in the 40 years I have lived in the port town of Churchill on the Hudson Bay. Among the famous I have been privileged to talk with have been Sir George Paget Thomson, one of the early investigators and interpreters of the structure of the atom, Sir Hubert Wilkins, the first man to take a submarine under the ice, and Charles A. Lindbergh, world famous pilot, and his wife while on their flight to the orient.The infamous have been few, but one of these has haunted my thoughts ever since we met.. If only Mr. MacIver had been in the habit of having photos taken of himself with the adventure-seekers he guided. We might have a picture of Hauptmann near Churchill on the Hudson Bay today -- or not. McIver's story about meeting the secretive Hauptmann up there just doesn't sound true. But again, Sue, thanks for posting these interesting articles -- fact or not.
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Post by Sue on May 11, 2021 7:16:08 GMT -5
I waited a few minutes and then followed. He was photographing the north wall from far to the rear. When I got close enough to talk to him, I said we would have to leave immediately.
"Go ahead. I'll be right down," he replied.
Almost an hour had elapsed before he joined me. I asked what had delayed him.
"Nothing," he answered, "I was just looking around."
I admit speaking sharply as I said, "I told you to come more than an hour ago. I've had to drag the canoe over the rocks for almost a quarter of a mile. Now the canvas is cut and the canoe was leaking."
He turned to me and stated "I paid for trip and I am boss."
"You're wrong," I declared. "As guide my obligation is to look after the safety of my passengers. Look at the river. Look at the speed of the water and the height of the swells. If the motor should stop when we are in the middle of the river, we'll be carried far into the bay and may never get back to shore. I don't like taking unnecessary chances."
"I take chances," he retorted, "and make good."
I felt this boast called for no reply. Indeed, my annoyance at his behaviour and my distaste for his personality were so great that I made up my mind not to speak to him unless it were necessary. For our mutual safety I did tell him to sit on the bottom of the canoe immediately behind the second cross-bar and to hang to it without moving even if waves washed over him.
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Post by Sue on May 11, 2021 11:31:43 GMT -5
The wind blew hard against the current. The bow of the canoe rose high on the crest of every wave, slid over the top and dropped with a heavy splash into the trough. I bailed almost steadily. As a consequence, my passenger was not sitting in water, but he was soaked by flying spray. He certainly possessed nerve. In spite of the pounding and drenching he received throughout most of the half-hour trip, he neither moved nor flinched.
We landed on the mud flats out from where the canoe had been launched. My passenger stepped from it, took from a well-filled wallet a ten dollar American bill and passed it to me. Exchange at the time was about ten percent in favour of American money. He did not mention this nor did I. He looked at the canoe with a smile and said in a bragging tone, "I make good money with canoe," turned and walked towards the train that would be leaving in a few hours.
What a strange person! He was soaking wet and surely must have been sore from the pounding he had received, yet he appeared cheerful -- and that for the first time while we had been together. Did he smile because he was glad to get to shore, was it because he had enjoyed the excitement of the trip or was it for some reason which I could not even suspect?
It seemed to me that I had been shown every facet of his character as clearly in the three hours we had been together as would have been possible in three years and that he was a criminal of the worst type. He had answered every question that had bearing on his identity, with the possible exception of his place of residence, with a lie. He had shown an entire lack of consideration for the feelings and the welfare of another human being. I was a machine to do his bidding, not a man with whom he might exchange ideas or even pleasantries. Whether or not I could restore the 19 ft. canoe to its place was nothing to him, although helping me carry it would not have meant his taking and extra step.
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Post by Sue on May 11, 2021 18:59:24 GMT -5
As I pondered who or what he might be, I wondered if the money explained the reason he was hiding his identity. Certainly no working man would have a wallet as well filled as his unless the contents were obtained fraudulently. Moreover, if the money had been got honestly my passenger would have been more careful in the spending of it.
I was sure this was not a confidence man; he lacked the necessary smooth, polished manner. He was not the type to bother with petty thefts. His nerve and self-confidence indicated a crime such as the robbery of a bank or the snatching of a payroll. However, there would be little chance of tracing the bill I had received, I felt sure, because of its low denomination.
At the local office of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police I looked at the pictures on hand of wanted men. My passenger was not among them. I did not mention to the officer my reason for examining the line-up. After all I had no evidence, only a personal conviction that the man whom I had had to the fort was wanted by the law.
Through the following months I thought quite often of that man, to me a man of mystery. What had brought him a thousand miles north of Winnipeg to a historic relic of which he knew nothing? Why was he so secretive about the contents of his bag? Why had he wanted pictures of the north wall only -- the partly destroyed wall -- from both inside and outside of the fort? Visitors usually asked to have a picture of themselves taken at the entrance and another beside one of the guns. This he had not asked me to do. What had he been doing during the hour he was alone? Who could he be?
Many months later I saw the picture of my passenger in a newspaper. The publication had been world-wide. He had been the most-sought criminal of the time. He was Bruno Richard Hauptmann who was charged with the kidnapping and murder of the Lindbergh baby.
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Post by Sue on May 12, 2021 7:16:10 GMT -5
.... Evidence at the trial brought out the fact that between the time the ransom was paid and Hauptmann's arrest, he had spent ten days in Canada.
Hauptmann's remark to me several years earlier: "I make good money with canoe" surely establishes as fact the belief that his getaway from the cemetery with the money was made via the nearby small stream. A canoe paddled by an experienced person travels without sound.
The significance of his statement
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Post by Guest on May 13, 2021 7:57:35 GMT -5
.... Evidence at the trial brought out the fact that between the time the ransom was paid and Hauptmann's arrest, he had spent ten days in Canada. Hauptmann's remark to me several years earlier: "I make good money with canoe" surely establishes as fact the belief that his getaway from the cemetery with the money was made via the nearby small stream. A canoe paddled by an experienced person travels without sound. The significance of his statement The trial transcript makes no mention of a visit by Hauptmann to Canada. Had he taken such a trip, it would have been mentioned. As an illegal alien he wouldn't even have dared to cross the border in his car. The only thing Hauptmann did was buy and sell Ford Canada stock, which was brought up at his trial.
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Post by Sue on May 13, 2021 17:48:26 GMT -5
Are all hours of all days from Hauptmann's Summer of 1932 accounted for?
Canada's southern border is huge, and must have been far less secure in 1932 than in 2021! I would venture to say that wide swathes of it were undefended in 1932!
So Hauptmann may have crossed the border, no questions asked that summer.
Here is another excerpt:
During those years money could have been gotten out of Churchill by ship with little chance of detection. The port had been opened for overseas shipping in 1931 and the volume of business was small. As a result, checks usual at ocean ports were not strictly enforced. A worker from a ship could readily carry a package aboard without having it seen by dock or ship authorities.
The bag carried by Hauptmann was large enough to have contained the money and small collapsible digging tools. There would be little chance of a cache in the gravel or the small growth behind the fort being found by anyone who had not a marked diagram or pictures as a guide to the exact site.
As this money never came into circulation it may still be behind the three century old fort.
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Post by wolfman666 on May 13, 2021 19:18:10 GMT -5
well it was said he went to a island off georgia so he could have ventured in canada
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Post by Guest on May 13, 2021 19:59:19 GMT -5
We don't know what else Hauptmann did during that long hot summer in '32 besides visiting Hunters Island, all I wanted to point out was that a Canada trip was not mentioned at the trial, as claimed by McIver. Keep posting, Sue!
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Joe
Lt. Colonel
Posts: 2,615
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Post by Joe on May 15, 2021 8:44:36 GMT -5
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Post by lurp173 on May 15, 2021 18:03:30 GMT -5
Thanks for posting this Joe.
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Post by hurtelable on May 16, 2021 8:22:54 GMT -5
FWIW, there was in practicality NO major Chicago newspaper known as the "Chicago Herald" in 1932. There was a "Chicago Daily Herald" but it only was distributed to selective Chicago suburbs. It would not have been considered a major big-city daily, and it would be unlikely to be known of in remote Churchill, Manitoba. So that aspect of the stranger's story seems fishy, along with others.
I for one can't see any connection of this McIver story to what we know about Hauptmann and the LKC case. Prosecutors claimed tat they could attach all of the ransom money to Hauptmann, and that story didn't need any Canadian connection. And there is only pure speculation suggesting an exit by canoe from St. Raymond's Cemetery after the the ransom payment.
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Post by Sue on May 16, 2021 11:36:17 GMT -5
Well, Churchill, Manitoba might not have been as remote as the place appeared. In this article about the port of Churchill from the October 26, 1991 edition of the Star Phoenix, the Mark Fleming book is mentioned. In particular, the Lindbergh kidnapping connection is brought up again. (I recently posted a page from Fleming's book where he writes about the Angus MacIver story.) The 1991 Star Phoenix article from Saskatoon, Saskatchewan shows a map of Canada from the area of Churchill to Europe. It seems possible that money could have been smuggled aboard ship to a place like Hamburg, Germany. See article and map on page D3: www.newspapers.com/clip/38469794/star-phoenix/
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Post by Sue on Jun 13, 2022 14:34:06 GMT -5
Angus MacIver seems to have never stopped talking about his chance encounter with Hauptmann. The account of the meeting between MacIver and Hauptmann surfaced again in the travel section of the Boston Globe for May 18, 1969. A Globe reporter named John Gould wrote an article about his visit to Churchill, Manitoba. "Churchill is Still Churchill" "The two hotels in Churchill look like rectangular beehives, and although we had a reservation made by CNR we could get no room. The weather had been bad, and no boats had sailed, so everybody who came in on the last train was still there. We approached some of the homes to see if we could be favored with a bed, and thus met the MacIvers. He, a guide and warden, was the man who entertained Bruno Hauptmann. When the FBI, etc., were closing in on the supposed kidnapper of the Lindbergh child, Hauptmann mysteriously disappeared for a time. The trail was lost. Then, just as mysteriously, he reappeared. The meantime had been spent at Churchill. MacIver told us this well mannered person appeared, looking for a guide, and they did business. There was no reason for the MacIvers to suspect who he was, and these two Scots were bewildered as anybody when they learned they had been entertaining Hauptmann. But Mrs. MacIver had no room for us, and thus we didn't sleep where Bruno Hauptmann had slept..." Boston Globe May 18, 1969 Page A 37 Below is a link to a snapshot of the newspaper page. www.newspapers.com/newspage/434634510/I wonder if the Churchill Historical Society holds some proof that MacIver crossed paths with Hauptmann?
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