MOUNT CALVARY CEMETERY
518 Mount Calvary Avenue
Columbus, OH 43223
614.491.2751
Established: 1865
Consecrated: 1874
Acres: 40
Official Website
Bella Morte Rating: 1 Tombstone
At first glance, even a self-respecting taphophile couldn’t be blamed for making only a quick circuit through Mount Calvary Cemetery in Columbus, Ohio before heading to gloomier climes. It is, after all, barely more than a postage-stamp-sized cemetery with only a few large trees and some scruffy shrubs to break up the mostly-unremarkable rows of monuments…and then there are the looming lights of adjacent Cooper Stadium to further leech what little graveyard ambience may have been present to begin with.
Indeed, apart from the prominent “Priest’s Circle” (more on that in a bit) it’s tempting to think there’s nothing much to see; however, making that assumption would prove to be a mistake. Take heed, it isn’t the sort of mistake one would be kicking him/herself for having made if there would never be a chance to visit again, but it would still be a mistake. We’ll get to the reasons after a brief pause for a little history.
As happened with many cemeteries that were established near swiftly-developing American cities back in the 1800s, Mount Calvary started its life (if you’ll forgive the pun) as a burial ground that would take the place of older cemeteries that were really little more than churchyards. When the aging grounds were full, and the growth of the city left nowhere for new “residents” to rest, it became necessary to look beyond established municipal limits. This is precisely what happened with Mount Calvary back in 1865. St. Patrick’s Cemetery (churchyard) had reached capacity. In response, the Catholic Diocese of Columbus purchased a 25-acre plot of land and began burying the parish faithful there that very year. More land was purchased between 1866 and 1868, increasing the acreage to its present 40-acre total.
In 1874, Bishop Rosecrans formally consecrated Mount Calvary and prohibited additional burials in St. Patrick’s. He suggested families of those already interred there have their loved ones moved to Mount Calvary…a suggestion that did not receive a warm reception and which resulted, at least initially, in inaction. However, by 1887, St. Patrick’s Cemetery had become truly troublesome to maintain. As families of the deceased aged and died, there were fewer people to care for the old graves. The diocese then took legal action to try and have St. Patrick’s dead exhumed and moved to Mount Calvary, and, after a battle that was waged all the way to the Ohio Supreme Court, the families of the deceased were compelled to allow their loved one’s remains to be relocated.
In 1910, the former residents of St. Jacob’s Cemetery were also exhumed and moved to Mount Calvary.
Historically, it is also of note that on the 25th of March, 1913 a flood of catastrophic proportions occurred when torrential rain caused the Ohio River and its tributaries to swell beyond their banks. In addition to affecting cities in Indiana, the flood waters caused great damage to both Cincinnati and Columbus. At Mount Calvary, a portion of the western section was submerged for a time.
And now, to the cemetery itself…
As one approaches Mount Calvary, the most prominent feature is the looming crucifix which rises from the center of the “Priest’s Circle” which lies straight ahead of visitors as they enter the grounds. It marks the burial place of a number of Columbus’ most noted bishops and priests, though the one that takes precedence is that of Bishop John A. Watterson whose solemn grey stone rests beneath the crucifix. Among its most notable features are the chiseled grey granite bishop’s mitre and staff which grace the top of the crypt around which are inscribed these words from Job 19:21 “Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you my friends, because the hand of the Lord hath touched me.” Initially, it seemed to us a curious reference; however, the fact that Watterson died suddenly and unexpectedly at the age of 54 may afford a reasonable explanation.
The cemetery also contains the mortal remains of a number of nuns from several religious orders, including the Sisters of the Poor of St. Francis and the Sisters of the Good Shepherd.
Mount Calvary also offers a respectable number of ceramic portraits—a feature that always grants a sense of closeness to the deceased. Being able to see the face of the person buried beneath is both poignant and fascinating. A look at our gallery will allow you to see these features as well as some of the other more appealing stones at Mount Calvary.
And still…if this were all the cemetery had to offer, it would be decidedly underwhelming. What captured our imaginations is a fact we suspect the Catholic Diocese might be more interested in concealing than celebrating and it is this…held within the soil of the cemetery’s 40 acres are the somewhat-singed remains of not one, but two, serial killers—each of whom was put to death in Ohio’s electric chair. We are referring to Anna Marie Hahn and Dr. Oliver Crook Haugh.
Hahn was a German immigrant whose vice was gambling. Gifted with a good voice, she enjoyed singing in “beer gardens,” where, with her broad smile and ample bosom she ingratiated herself to many of the elderly patrons, a number of which accepted her offer to assist them with daily chores as a live-in nurse. Though she had no medical training, men who, as it turned out, would soon die from what their “nurse” described as “dysentery” often accepted Hahn’s services without question. The families of the deceased, grateful for this “angel’s” kindness, often gave her money from the estate.
It would later be discovered that Anna also helped herself to cash and other valuables while her “patients” were under her care. The money all went towards her growing gambling habit and she was ever in need of more funds.
When suspicions about the number of men who died in her care began to arise, the police were called. They discovered massive amounts of arsenic and other poisons in Anna’s possession. Upon being questioned, she broke into tears and declared: “I have been like an angel of mercy to them,” whereupon she was arrested and a court date established.
Throughout her trial, Hahn endeared herself to members of the press, often granting interviews in her cell where she would detail the kindness she showed to her former “patients.” Because evidence was largely circumstantial, she may have been exonerated, but the testimony of her husband, Phillip, left no question in anyone’s mind. He testified his wife had stolen prescription forms from a doctor and that she wrote them for various “poisons” which she then directed their 12-year old son to have filled at the pharmacy. He further testified she had, on two occasions, pressed him to take out a $25,000 life insurance policy on himself. He had refused and, shortly after the second refusal, had come down with “dysentery,” which he somehow survived.
Hahn was eventually convicted for the poisoning death of one man, but was suspected in the deaths of at least three others as well as the poison-induced-paralysis of another. Her murderous reign (at least the part we know of) spanned the years between 1932 & 1937.
The night before her execution, she threw a party to which she invited all of the members of the press who had been following her trial. She allegedly said, "You gave me a good show at my trial. The least I could do was to throw a bash for you. I guess I'm not much like a 'beautiful blonde' now, huh? Well, give me a good write-up when it's all over.”
Her bravado, however, vanished as she approached “Old Sparky.” She collapsed and, having been revived with an ammonia capsule by her jailers, cried, “Don’t do this to me! Oh, no, no, no, Warden, don’t let them do this to me.” Moments later, having been strapped to the chair, she died by electrocution.
Hahn was the first woman ever to “ride the lightning” in Ohio’s electric chair.
For more information on her final hours, we offer you an article from The Chicago Daily and also recommend the The Good-Bye Door by Diana Britt Franklin.
Note: Unfortunately, we can find no information on the exact location of Anna’s grave, and, having discovered the fact of her presence late in the day, our rushed search (based on a picture) yielded nothing. If you, Dear Reader, can provide us with that information, we would be most grateful.
And now to the good doctor…
Like Anna Hahn, Oliver Crook Haugh had an addiction; though, rather than playing cards and horses, his interest was of a chemical nature, namely, morphine. His practice (largely focused in Columbus’ “Germantown”) was marred by ineptitude and a rash of suspicious deaths that would surely have tempted the wise to steer clear of his shingle.
Also like Hahn, no one will ever know how many fell victim to Oliver. He was suspected of killing at least 16 people, but was convicted based upon the deaths of his parents and brother who were initially thought to have died in a house fire that saw only Haugh escape unharmed. Unfortunately for Oliver, the incinerated remains of his family revealed their cause of death was murder, and the fire was set to cover the evidence. His motive was thought by some to have been financial in nature; however, others suggested it had more to do with his drug abuse. Apparently, the good doctor was attempting to create a new drug that would reveal the dual natures inside each human being. He was quoted as having said, “I am at work on the evolution of a drug, which, in its perfection will create a new era of science, a new order of thought, and a new race of beings…I will prove…two beings can exist in the one body, the one blotting out the influence of the other.”
Indeed, his “research” rendered him, as his wife described, a true Dr. Jekyll and Hyde with the latter winning the game. And, yes, to those of you who might be wondering, Stevenson’s novella, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde had been published in 1886 and Haugh was quite familiar with it.
Unlike Hahn, who panicked as the time of her execution approached, Haugh was described as decidedly indifferent to his fate, stating, “…if I die for these crimes, I shall have at least established the proof of the theory on which I have always insisted—that two beings, one of good, the other of evil, may exist in the same man, and in that respect at least I shall have rendered a distinct service to posterity.”
We pause here to establish a truly eerie connection between our good doctor and the sweet “nurse,” Anna Hahn. (queue spooky music) In a letter discovered after Hahn’s death, wherein she confessed some, though not all, of her crimes, she wrote about her feelings during her trial, “I sometimes wanted to cry out that they were trying the other Anna Hahn and not this one sitting in the courtroom. Somehow I kept the secret.” Hmmm…
Dr. Haugh was electrocuted on 4 November, 1907. He was buried in an unmarked grave in the unconsecrated section of Mount Calvary. The records of the grave’s location were, alas, lost in the aforementioned flood of 1913.
For further reading on Dr. Haugh, we recommend: With Malice Toward All: The Lethal Life of Dr. Oliver C. Haugh by Curt Dalton.
Lastly, another reason to recommend a visit to Columbus’ Mount Calvary is that both Green Lawn Cemetery and Green Lawn Abbey are only five minutes away by car. Indeed, on foot, one could easily walk from Calvary’s southwestern-most border into Green Lawn’s northeastern in less than two minutes, as only an open field separates the two. With such proximity, it would seem foolish not to venture.
[F]
518 Mount Calvary Avenue
Columbus, OH 43223
614.491.2751
Established: 1865
Consecrated: 1874
Acres: 40
Official Website
Bella Morte Rating: 1 Tombstone
At first glance, even a self-respecting taphophile couldn’t be blamed for making only a quick circuit through Mount Calvary Cemetery in Columbus, Ohio before heading to gloomier climes. It is, after all, barely more than a postage-stamp-sized cemetery with only a few large trees and some scruffy shrubs to break up the mostly-unremarkable rows of monuments…and then there are the looming lights of adjacent Cooper Stadium to further leech what little graveyard ambience may have been present to begin with.
Indeed, apart from the prominent “Priest’s Circle” (more on that in a bit) it’s tempting to think there’s nothing much to see; however, making that assumption would prove to be a mistake. Take heed, it isn’t the sort of mistake one would be kicking him/herself for having made if there would never be a chance to visit again, but it would still be a mistake. We’ll get to the reasons after a brief pause for a little history.
As happened with many cemeteries that were established near swiftly-developing American cities back in the 1800s, Mount Calvary started its life (if you’ll forgive the pun) as a burial ground that would take the place of older cemeteries that were really little more than churchyards. When the aging grounds were full, and the growth of the city left nowhere for new “residents” to rest, it became necessary to look beyond established municipal limits. This is precisely what happened with Mount Calvary back in 1865. St. Patrick’s Cemetery (churchyard) had reached capacity. In response, the Catholic Diocese of Columbus purchased a 25-acre plot of land and began burying the parish faithful there that very year. More land was purchased between 1866 and 1868, increasing the acreage to its present 40-acre total.
In 1874, Bishop Rosecrans formally consecrated Mount Calvary and prohibited additional burials in St. Patrick’s. He suggested families of those already interred there have their loved ones moved to Mount Calvary…a suggestion that did not receive a warm reception and which resulted, at least initially, in inaction. However, by 1887, St. Patrick’s Cemetery had become truly troublesome to maintain. As families of the deceased aged and died, there were fewer people to care for the old graves. The diocese then took legal action to try and have St. Patrick’s dead exhumed and moved to Mount Calvary, and, after a battle that was waged all the way to the Ohio Supreme Court, the families of the deceased were compelled to allow their loved one’s remains to be relocated.
In 1910, the former residents of St. Jacob’s Cemetery were also exhumed and moved to Mount Calvary.
Historically, it is also of note that on the 25th of March, 1913 a flood of catastrophic proportions occurred when torrential rain caused the Ohio River and its tributaries to swell beyond their banks. In addition to affecting cities in Indiana, the flood waters caused great damage to both Cincinnati and Columbus. At Mount Calvary, a portion of the western section was submerged for a time.
And now, to the cemetery itself…
As one approaches Mount Calvary, the most prominent feature is the looming crucifix which rises from the center of the “Priest’s Circle” which lies straight ahead of visitors as they enter the grounds. It marks the burial place of a number of Columbus’ most noted bishops and priests, though the one that takes precedence is that of Bishop John A. Watterson whose solemn grey stone rests beneath the crucifix. Among its most notable features are the chiseled grey granite bishop’s mitre and staff which grace the top of the crypt around which are inscribed these words from Job 19:21 “Have pity on me, have pity on me, at least you my friends, because the hand of the Lord hath touched me.” Initially, it seemed to us a curious reference; however, the fact that Watterson died suddenly and unexpectedly at the age of 54 may afford a reasonable explanation.
The cemetery also contains the mortal remains of a number of nuns from several religious orders, including the Sisters of the Poor of St. Francis and the Sisters of the Good Shepherd.
Mount Calvary also offers a respectable number of ceramic portraits—a feature that always grants a sense of closeness to the deceased. Being able to see the face of the person buried beneath is both poignant and fascinating. A look at our gallery will allow you to see these features as well as some of the other more appealing stones at Mount Calvary.
And still…if this were all the cemetery had to offer, it would be decidedly underwhelming. What captured our imaginations is a fact we suspect the Catholic Diocese might be more interested in concealing than celebrating and it is this…held within the soil of the cemetery’s 40 acres are the somewhat-singed remains of not one, but two, serial killers—each of whom was put to death in Ohio’s electric chair. We are referring to Anna Marie Hahn and Dr. Oliver Crook Haugh.
Hahn was a German immigrant whose vice was gambling. Gifted with a good voice, she enjoyed singing in “beer gardens,” where, with her broad smile and ample bosom she ingratiated herself to many of the elderly patrons, a number of which accepted her offer to assist them with daily chores as a live-in nurse. Though she had no medical training, men who, as it turned out, would soon die from what their “nurse” described as “dysentery” often accepted Hahn’s services without question. The families of the deceased, grateful for this “angel’s” kindness, often gave her money from the estate.
It would later be discovered that Anna also helped herself to cash and other valuables while her “patients” were under her care. The money all went towards her growing gambling habit and she was ever in need of more funds.
When suspicions about the number of men who died in her care began to arise, the police were called. They discovered massive amounts of arsenic and other poisons in Anna’s possession. Upon being questioned, she broke into tears and declared: “I have been like an angel of mercy to them,” whereupon she was arrested and a court date established.
Throughout her trial, Hahn endeared herself to members of the press, often granting interviews in her cell where she would detail the kindness she showed to her former “patients.” Because evidence was largely circumstantial, she may have been exonerated, but the testimony of her husband, Phillip, left no question in anyone’s mind. He testified his wife had stolen prescription forms from a doctor and that she wrote them for various “poisons” which she then directed their 12-year old son to have filled at the pharmacy. He further testified she had, on two occasions, pressed him to take out a $25,000 life insurance policy on himself. He had refused and, shortly after the second refusal, had come down with “dysentery,” which he somehow survived.
Hahn was eventually convicted for the poisoning death of one man, but was suspected in the deaths of at least three others as well as the poison-induced-paralysis of another. Her murderous reign (at least the part we know of) spanned the years between 1932 & 1937.
The night before her execution, she threw a party to which she invited all of the members of the press who had been following her trial. She allegedly said, "You gave me a good show at my trial. The least I could do was to throw a bash for you. I guess I'm not much like a 'beautiful blonde' now, huh? Well, give me a good write-up when it's all over.”
Her bravado, however, vanished as she approached “Old Sparky.” She collapsed and, having been revived with an ammonia capsule by her jailers, cried, “Don’t do this to me! Oh, no, no, no, Warden, don’t let them do this to me.” Moments later, having been strapped to the chair, she died by electrocution.
Hahn was the first woman ever to “ride the lightning” in Ohio’s electric chair.
For more information on her final hours, we offer you an article from The Chicago Daily and also recommend the The Good-Bye Door by Diana Britt Franklin.
Note: Unfortunately, we can find no information on the exact location of Anna’s grave, and, having discovered the fact of her presence late in the day, our rushed search (based on a picture) yielded nothing. If you, Dear Reader, can provide us with that information, we would be most grateful.
And now to the good doctor…
Like Anna Hahn, Oliver Crook Haugh had an addiction; though, rather than playing cards and horses, his interest was of a chemical nature, namely, morphine. His practice (largely focused in Columbus’ “Germantown”) was marred by ineptitude and a rash of suspicious deaths that would surely have tempted the wise to steer clear of his shingle.
Also like Hahn, no one will ever know how many fell victim to Oliver. He was suspected of killing at least 16 people, but was convicted based upon the deaths of his parents and brother who were initially thought to have died in a house fire that saw only Haugh escape unharmed. Unfortunately for Oliver, the incinerated remains of his family revealed their cause of death was murder, and the fire was set to cover the evidence. His motive was thought by some to have been financial in nature; however, others suggested it had more to do with his drug abuse. Apparently, the good doctor was attempting to create a new drug that would reveal the dual natures inside each human being. He was quoted as having said, “I am at work on the evolution of a drug, which, in its perfection will create a new era of science, a new order of thought, and a new race of beings…I will prove…two beings can exist in the one body, the one blotting out the influence of the other.”
Indeed, his “research” rendered him, as his wife described, a true Dr. Jekyll and Hyde with the latter winning the game. And, yes, to those of you who might be wondering, Stevenson’s novella, The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde had been published in 1886 and Haugh was quite familiar with it.
Unlike Hahn, who panicked as the time of her execution approached, Haugh was described as decidedly indifferent to his fate, stating, “…if I die for these crimes, I shall have at least established the proof of the theory on which I have always insisted—that two beings, one of good, the other of evil, may exist in the same man, and in that respect at least I shall have rendered a distinct service to posterity.”
We pause here to establish a truly eerie connection between our good doctor and the sweet “nurse,” Anna Hahn. (queue spooky music) In a letter discovered after Hahn’s death, wherein she confessed some, though not all, of her crimes, she wrote about her feelings during her trial, “I sometimes wanted to cry out that they were trying the other Anna Hahn and not this one sitting in the courtroom. Somehow I kept the secret.” Hmmm…
Dr. Haugh was electrocuted on 4 November, 1907. He was buried in an unmarked grave in the unconsecrated section of Mount Calvary. The records of the grave’s location were, alas, lost in the aforementioned flood of 1913.
For further reading on Dr. Haugh, we recommend: With Malice Toward All: The Lethal Life of Dr. Oliver C. Haugh by Curt Dalton.
Lastly, another reason to recommend a visit to Columbus’ Mount Calvary is that both Green Lawn Cemetery and Green Lawn Abbey are only five minutes away by car. Indeed, on foot, one could easily walk from Calvary’s southwestern-most border into Green Lawn’s northeastern in less than two minutes, as only an open field separates the two. With such proximity, it would seem foolish not to venture.
[F]