Trouble at the old Harger Place
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| The Harger Farm |
When Minnie Umansky returned home from Tolland (Massachusetts) around three o'clock on the afternoon of Wednesday, September 27, 1911, she found it odd that all the doors were locked, one barricaded with a beer keg. She heard her baby crying inside the home and called out for her mother-in-law, Rosa "Rose" Umansky, but there was no response.
After finally gaining entry, Minnie found the kitchen smoky; her mother-in-law's bedroom ransacked. She quickly grabbed her baby and ran to her nearest neighbor's house, Charlie Sheets, which was less than 3/4 miles away.
Charles' son Albert accompanied Minnie home. While searching the house for Rose, they found a pillow smoking in the oven in the kitchen. When their search of the house turned up nothing, they checked the barn and walked around the property. Again, there was no sign of Rose.
Albert walked over to the well in the front yard. Even though he noticed the wood covering the 35-foot-deep well was still intact, he carefully removed it. And when he peered down into it, he saw something floating atop 10-foot-deep water. It was Rose.
Local authorities soon arrived on the scene. They removed Rose's body from the well using a rigged rope-and-potato-hook apparatus. Because her body was floating, it was evident that she did not drown, as no water was present in her lungs. Closer examination showed strangulation marks on her neck and a wound on the right side of her head, as if someone had struck her with a club. They also noticed that someone had cut and torn her clothes, which led them to believe robbery was the motive as it was well-known throughout the community that Rose carried money on her person, which she wrapped in a handkerchief and hid inside her clothes near her waist.
Authorities had Rose's body taken to the undertaking room of Lambson Furniture Company in Westfield for an autopsy. As part of their investigation, they started questioning family and neighbors, who informed them that two suspicious men had recently been at the Umansky homestead. They also learned that there was significant discord among members of the Umansky family over Rose's engagement to a Connecticut man; the marriage would have occurred on October 7 had she not been murdered. (Rose's dowry was to be four cows and two heifers.)
Authorities quickly ruled out family involvement and focused on the two suspicious men. A photograph of the men helped identify them as Stefan Boroski and Antonio ("Anton") Kolick, a couple of Polish farmhands the Umanskys would periodically hire to pick berries. (The men had asked someone in the community to take their photo so they could send it back to their home country.)
When Rose's son returned home, he told investigators that he would periodically hire Kolick and pay him $5 for two weeks of work. However, the two men were inseparable, so Boroski worked too. (There are inconsistencies in the spelling of Boraski's name; sometimes, it is spelled Borasky.)
In their search for the suspected murderers, Granville planned to enlist the help of bloodhounds from the Springfield Police Department, but they squashed that idea because it started raining.
Word of the horrific murder spread like wildfire throughout Western Massachusetts and northern Connecticut.
On September 30, the Springfield Police Department overheard a disturbance call received by Agawam authorities regarding some Polish men partying and firing celebratory shots outside a hut off Shoemaker Lane near the Porter Distillery. On a hunch that it could be the murderers, four Springfield police officers took a taxi there.
The Springfield officers joined three deputy sheriffs in rounding up the partiers. They caught their men, or so they thought. They brought the men to the Springfield police station before taking them to Westfield to face arraignment on Monday.
They had Boroski in custody, but the man they thought was Kolick was not, so they eventually freed him. Massachusetts State Police aided in the search for Kolick. Police arrested a second man fitting the description of Kolick, but it was another case of mistaken identity, and the man was released.
Boroski appeared in Westfield District Court on the morning of October 11. Attorney Richard J. Morrissey, representing the Commonwealth of Massachusetts, and Attorney Joseph Carmody of Springfield, representing Boroski, called sixteen witnesses to testify, including Minnie. However, before the lawyers could examine all the witnesses, the judge, citing probable cause, bound Borokski over to the December sitting of the grand jury, and he was committed to the Springfield jail without bail. (Among the witnesses called to testify was Max Greenfield of Tolland, who told the jury that Boroski and Kolick came to his house seeking work the day before the murder. Greenfield may have been the one who took their photograph.)
On December 19, 1911, the grand jury returned an indictment against Kolick, who was still at large. A Massachusetts state detective arrested him in the Fisherville section of Grafton on April 30, 1912, after finding him working in a cotton mill there.
The grand jury for 1912 started conducting its business on May 6, beginning with its consideration of the Umanski murder case. This time, they aimed to secure a joint indictment, allowing the Commonwealth to try both men simultaneously. (There were several clashes between counsel and counsel and the district attorney. Boraski's lawyer unsuccessfully requested a separate trial for his client. Kolick's lawyer said there was no need for individual trials - which brought Carmody to his feet - asking if the lawyer was working for the district attorney. Kolick's lawyer hotly replied that he and the Commonwealth had no understanding.)
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| Photo taken of the killers (center) |
The court scheduled the trial for June 24, with Judge Henry A. King presiding. Appearing in Superior Court, both defendants pleaded not guilty after the court read their lengthy indictments through an interpreter seated in a chair directly in front of the jury. It was stifling hot in the courtroom, and the district attorney fanned himself with a large palm leaf fan; the court gave all the jurymen large fans. (During jury selection, Judge King quickly detected several jurors trying to escape their civic duty. But there was no use dodging the inevitable, although he did excuse two for personal matters. After twelve challenges from each defendant and five from the Commonwealth, six jurors were seated in the box when the 1:00 p.m. whistle blew, and Judge King ordered the noon recess.)
Boroski, who took the stand on June 28, was very nonchalant as he answered questions through the interpreter, testifying under oath that he had nothing to do with the murder, further saying that he was not even in West Granville when it occurred.
When Kolick testified to his version of the events, Boroski repeatedly shook his head and laughed. Kolick told the court that Boroski wanted to burn Rose's house down to hide all the evidence, even though a small child was in it, but he would not allow it. (Kolick, described as rough in appearance but not bad-looking, had auburn color hair. He had shaved his dark red mustache off before the trial, making him appear much younger. He smiled a lot in court - appearing not to have any idea of the seriousness of his situation. He even saluted one of the deputy sheriffs who participated in his arrest.)
The trial ended on June 29. After deliberating for five hours, the jury returned with a verdict at 2:28 a.m. on June 30.
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| The Umansky Family |
Judge King sentenced Boraski to death at the Charlestown State Prison. The convicted murderer mistakenly thought the state would execute him immediately after his arrival to Charlestown. When he found out that his execution would take place in a week or so, he pleaded unsuccessfully with the warden to let him see the electric chair where he would meet his fate. (The warden later changed his mind; he had Boraski locked in the death chamber for an extended time before returning him to his cell.)
Kolick, who was awaiting sentencing, died in the Hampden County Jail on July 15, less than a month after the trial concluded; no relatives attended his funeral, which, in what is believed to be a first for Massachusetts, was paid for by the state's taxpayers, along with his burial. His cause of death: acute cerebral softening; hydrocephalus, also known as water on the brain. (An autopsy concluded that Kolick more than likely suffered brain trouble from childhood. With this new information, Boraski's lawyer questioned Kolick's sanity and requested a new trial since his client's guilty verdict mainly resulted from his accomplice's testimony - which he argued should be thrown out. He even appealed to the governor for clemency but was unsuccessful.)
On June 24, 1913, at 12:05:04 a.m., Boraski, singing a Polish hymn and periodically kissing the crucifix Prison Chaplain Murphy held in his hand, marched between the prison guards into the death chamber alone. Unassisted, he sat in the electric chair, and at 12:06:03 a.m., he received two shocks of 1,880 volts, making him the 18th man in Massachusetts to die in the electric chair. He was officially pronounced dead at 12:14:15 a.m.
Rose's son and daughter-in-law had welcomed a daughter on December 13, 1911. They named her Rosie.
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| The old Harger Place |
Historical photos courtesy of the Granville Public Library Historical Room.
The Southwick Time Machine personally thanks the Granville Public Library and the Noble & Cooley Center for Historic Preservation (NCCHP) for allowing their images to be included in this story and for their dedication to educating the general public on local history.
This story appeared in the March 2024 edition of Southwoods magazine.
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