On the evening of January 20, 1917, Joseph Nowak of Chicopee—accompanied by an unidentified man—paid a social visit to the small farm of Mr. and Mrs. Julian Banalewska in Southwick, Massachusetts. The couple, recent immigrants who soon shortened their surname to Banel, were at home with their infant daughter, Jennie. Julian was commonly known as “Julius,” and his wife as “Mary.” Nowak and his companion arrived with liquor to celebrate—though for what, surviving records do not say. What happened next nearly cost Jennie her life. According to the statements later presented in court, Nowak poured alcohol into a glass, set it ablaze, and threw the flaming liquor directly into the crib where baby Jennie was sleeping. The burning liquid spread rapidly, igniting the bedding and the infant’s clothing. Witnesses said it required considerable effort to put out the fire, and that had the Banels not acted quickly, the child would have been cremated. The following day, January 21, Nowak was arraign...

On Thanksgiving Day, 1959, Francis Slasinski of 2 Union Avenue in Westfield, Massachusetts, set out for a deer hunting trip in nearby Granville, Massachusetts. Carrying his bow, he followed a quiet country road when he spotted what looked like a deer standing further down the road. Slasinski drew his bow and prepared to shoot—but just as he was about to release the arrow, the sudden blast of a car horn startled him. The driver pulled alongside and called out that the deer wasn’t wild at all—it was his pet. To prove it, the man opened his car door, and the deer jumped right in. Before driving away, the unidentified owner offered a good-natured remark to the surprised hunter: “I wouldn’t have blamed you if you had shot him.” The strange encounter became one of those memorable local stories that seem almost too unlikely to be true, but it was. Francis "Fran" Richard Slasinski was well known around Westfield. A sportsman from a young age, he was active in the Boy Scouts, sang in ...

A Southwick Time Machine exclusive: original research you won’t find anywhere else —  On Thursday, July 21, 1938, a large, faded blue-and-black Pontiac sedan pulled up outside the First National Bank of Suffield. Its engine was left running as three men stepped out. The bank, established in 1864, primarily served the tobacco and dairy farmers of this well-to-do northern Connecticut town. Suffield sat at the heart of the Connecticut River Valley's thriving tobacco industry. The bank typically held large amounts of cash on Thursdays to cover the sizeable tobacco payroll, but recent rains had disrupted the routine, leaving considerably less money on hand than usual. At 11:45 a.m., a dark-complexioned man, about five feet five inches tall and dressed in a dark gray raincoat and soft felt hat, walked up to one of the two teller windows and casually asked to exchange a five-dollar bill for two dollars in nickels and three one-dollar bills. When he entered, the bank president got up from ...

A rare Southwick Time Machine true crime original deep from our archives It was 6:30 p.m. on December 26, 1877, when D.W. Bartlett of Southwick, Massachusetts, arrived in New York City, returning from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania. He had been carrying a satchel and a few small parcels throughout his journey.  Bartlett took a horse-drawn Belt-line car at the Desbrosses Street Ferry, heading toward the New Haven boat as he made his way home to Southwick. Desbrosses Street Ferry & Passenger Station, where Bartlett boarded the horse-drawn car on December 26, 1877 He disembarked at the famed Fulton Market in Lower Manhattan, a bustling institution known for its oysters. As he rose from his seat, he sensed he was being watched. On the rear platform stood three ruffians, staring him down. At that same moment, a fourth man staggered onto the streetcar, feigning drunkenness. The man stumbled against Bartlett and, in a swift motion, seized his satchel. As Bartlett tried to exit, the men on t...

On Wednesday, September 29, 1880, 63-year-old Asa Giles Farnham of Tolland, Massachusetts, traveled to Westfield, Massachusetts, where he sold a load of potatoes and cranberries. As evening fell, he returned to his farm.   Earlier that year, on March 11, Asa had experienced a family loss: one of his brothers, David Frost Farnham, had died of cirrhosis of the liver. Months later, an ordinary autumn evening would turn tragic. When Farnham arrived home, he found that supper was not yet ready, and a disagreement arose between him and his wife, Lucy. The argument became heated. Moments later, Asa left the house carrying a length of clothesline. He walked out to his apple orchard and hanged himself from one of the trees.  — Preserved from the archives by the Southwick Time Machine         What did you think of this story? Let us know.       Help us tell forgotten stories like Asa's.  Support the Southwick Time Machine to...