Lore - Lore 284: Grounded

Episode Date: July 14, 2025

The way various cultures approach death has added a dark texture to the world around us. And caught in the fabric of those metaphorical burial shrouds is the debris from some truly powerful stories.  Narrated and produced by Aaron Mahnke, with writing by GennaRose Nethercott, research by Jamie Vargas, and music by Chad Lawson. ————————— Lore Resources:  Episode Music: lorepodcast.com/music  Episode Sources: lorepodcast.com/sources  Official Lore Merchandise: lorepodcast.com/shop All the shows from Grim & Mild: www.grimandmild.com ————————— Sponsors: BetterHelp: Lore is sponsored by BetterHelp. Give online therapy a try at BetterHelp.com/LORE, and get on your way to being your best self. Warby Parker: Visit one of over 270 stores to find your next pair of glasses, or go to WarbyParker.com/LORE to try on any pair virtually! MeUndies: Slide into game changing comfort with MeUndies. Get up to 50% off at MeUndies.com/lore with the promo code LORE. ————————— To report a concern regarding a radio-style, non-Aaron ad in this episode, reach out to ads @ lorepodcast.com with the name of the company or organization so we can look into it. ————————— To advertise on this podcast please email: [e-mail]. Or go to: https://advertising.libsyn.com/lore ————————— ©2025 Aaron Mahnke. All rights reserved.

This podcast is supported by Talkspace. When my husband came home from his military deployment, readjusting was hard for all of us. Thankfully, I found Talkspace. Talkspace provides professional support from licensed therapists and psychiatric providers online. Military members, veterans, and their dependents ages 13 and older can get fast access to providers, all from the privacy of their computers or smartphones. I just answered a few questions online and Talkspace matched me with a therapist.

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That's Talkspace.com slash military. It was a typical moment that took an unusual turn. When Mormon founder Joseph Smith and his brother Hyrum were killed by a mob while awaiting trial in 1844. Their bodies were transported in rough-hewn oak caskets. These were simple boxes, yes, but even a simple box can become holy if you place a prophet inside. And so, not long after, Smith's followers took planks from one of those caskets and carved the wood into a set of walking canes. According to legend, there were twelve of these canes made in total.

Some even had the deceased's hair embedded in the white knob handle. And suffice to say, everyone, that is, everyone within the Latter-day Saints movement, wanted to get their hands on one of these rare sacred relics. In fact, some even considered them as important as the Holy Grail. But here's the thing. These canes weren't simply symbolically powerful. They were literally powerful, because some said that they possessed the ability to heal. One early LDS leader, Heber C. Kimball, was lucky enough to snag one of these coveted canes. And he had this to say about it. And I quote, the day will come when there will be multitudes who will be healed and blessed through the

instrumentality of those canes, and the devil cannot overcome those who have them. Now, I've learned a lot about eerie objects over the years, but magical canes made from a dead man's casket? That one is new. At the end of the day, though, there are no two cultures that treat a person's death quite the same, let alone agree upon what death is, what it means, and what exactly happens after we die. But there's one aspect of leaving this life that is true across the board.

When someone dies, you are going to have a body to deal with, and you better do it right, because if you don't, you may quite literally have hell to pay. I'm Aaron Manke, and this is Lore. It was the kind of discovery that most archaeologists only dream about. The year was 1933, and in the Kofsa Cave, about 150 miles north of Jerusalem, a team of researchers had just unearthed something that would change our understanding of human history forever. It was a human grave, and the remains had clearly been buried with care.

Which might not seem like a big deal, except for one small detail. These bodies had been laid in the ground 120,000 years ago, earlier than any other deliberate grave ever found. That's right, there in the Khafsa cave sat the earliest evidence of human beings burying our dead. Now, we don't know exactly when the practice of intentional burial began. It likely was much further back than 120,000 years. We just haven't found physical proof of that yet.

But one thing is for certain, even in the ancient world, everybody and their uncle was putting their dead loved ones into the ground. Originally, it was done for practical reasons more than emotional. After all, the decomposition process is, well, pretty gross. From odors and insects to the potential spread of disease, you wouldn't exactly want a dead body just lying around the house, and so burial probably seemed like the easiest solution. To help enforce this essential sanitary procedure, cultures developed superstitions to really drive

the point home. The most common folklore was that an improper burial would lead to the person returning as a dangerous, hateful revenant. And yes, digging a big hole is a lot of work, but between the festering flesh and the threat of the undead, it sure seemed like it was worth it. If there's one thing that really sets humanity apart, it's our ability to make meaning out of the mundane. And so that's exactly what we did with the practical act of burying people. All over the world, folks began granting it spiritual significance, and with that came

elaborate theatrical rituals. Take those of the ancient Egyptians, for example. Now we all know that the Egyptian pharaohs were ornately mummified and interred in grand tombs, but did you ever wonder what happened to regular people? Well it turns out that they were buried in the ground, offerings would be placed in the grave along with them, and incantations were uttered to help them into the ground. Offerings would be placed in the grave along with them, and incantations were uttered to help them into the afterlife. Meanwhile, Indian Hindus from around 500 BC had a unique burial ritual of their own. After being smeared with sandalwood paste and dressed

in fine new clothes, the body was placed on a pyre beside a river with its head facing north. Offerings would then be made to the gods, after which the body was burned. Finally, three days later, the family threw the remaining bones into the river. In ancient Greece, a body would be washed, anointed with oil, and wrapped in a shroud before being buried into the earth, or cremated and then buried. They also placed stone markers on the gravesites, not so unlike the tombstones that we know and then buried. They also placed stone markers on the gravesite, not so unlike the tombstones that we know and love today. While the Greeks felt that honoring the dead was an important civic duty, the Romans were a little more squeamish about death. They

refused to put graves anywhere near the living people, and so they built their cemeteries outside city limits. They even held their funerals at night, hidden in darkness. These people may have lived thousands of years ago, but they were still loving each other and mourning each other just as fiercely as we do today. In fact, modern burial practices are no less elaborate. There seems to be just about as many traditions currently in practice as there are cultures on Earth. But not all of them are exactly underground.

One of the world's most incredible burial traditions was developed by the Vairayana Buddhists in Tibet and Mongolia. They practice what's known as sky burial or jatur, which means giving alms to the birds. To prepare for jatur, the deceased head is shaven and burned. Then, official burial masters divide the body into smaller pieces, which they place atop a mountain, right out in the open air. And this is the most amazing part, because the rest of the ritual isn't performed by human mourners at all, but by the birds. Circling these mountain tops, you see, are magnificent Himalayan vultures. The vultures descend upon the remains, which, according to scientists, they will consume in less than 40 minutes.

It's pretty amazing, right? Not only has this community invented a completely unique method of eliminating human remains and honoring their loved ones, but they're collaborating with another species to do it. To us here in the West, it may sound wild, but to this day, 80% of Tibetans still select sky burial when their time comes. On the other hand, some cultures don't dispose of their dead at all. Some members of the Indonesian Toraja people keep their deceased family members right inside their homes. Not in a coffin, no, the bodies are wrapped in silk and placed in a chair

out in the open. And sure, that first week of active decay is pretty rough, but soon the smell simmers down and the deceased is treated as a welcome member of the household. Eventually, once the dead person has decayed sufficiently, their bones will be lovingly laid inside a tomb. Now, if you want a little more attitude in your death rites, you might want to visit the Philippines. There, the Bangut people are known to place blindfolds on the dead, dress them in fancy clothes, and sit them beside the entrance to their homes with a cigarette in their mouth.

The Cavatenyo, also in the Philippines, start their rituals a little easier than most. When a person becomes ill, they go out into the woods and select a tree. Then when they pass away, they're entombed inside that very same tree's hollowed out trunk. And meanwhile, the people of Ghana bury their dead in what is known as fantasy coffins, which symbolize the deceased's career or personality. For example, fishermen might be buried in a coffin that is shaped like a giant fish, or someone who loved racing might get to spend eternity in a coffin shaped like a sports car. And yes, I do think, what shape would your coffin be is a fantastic

first date question. In Madagascar, the Malagasy people practice a tradition known as the turning of the bones, or famadiana. It takes place every five to seven years and it's essentially a big party hosted at the ancestral crypt. Family members will crack open the crypt, exhumed their deceased loved ones, wrap them in fabric, and spray them with wine or perfume. Which is when the dancing part of the party begins. And let's just say the Living aren't the only ones cutting a rug here, because

as an upbeat band begins to play, the living family members dance with the bodies of the dead. Unfortunately, not all exhumation rituals are voluntary. Due to overcrowding in South Korean cemeteries, a new law mandates that a person can only stay in the ground for 60 years. After that, your family has to dig you up. But you know what they say, necessity is the mother of invention. Recently, companies have popped up that compress cremated remains into turquoise, pink, or black gem-like beads, which are then displayed in the home. It may sound extreme, but South Korea isn't, in fact, the only culture where death and

bureaucracy collide in unexpected ways. It may sound extreme, but South Korea isn't in fact the only culture where death and bureaucracy collide in unexpected ways. In fact, in one contemporary culture, the people are so terrified of death that there are laws in place to create the illusion that death and decay doesn't exist at all. Let me explain. First, when a person dies, the body is immediately seized by the state and hidden out of sight. The deceased is stored in ice boxes to prevent decay before being washed, drained of blood, redressed, and placed in makeup to give the illusion of life

all by strangers unconnected to the family. And if the cause of death created visible injuries, special craftsmen work in secret to reconstruct the face with waxes and putties, sometimes even inserting metal wires into the face to remake bones, or stuffing in cotton to plump sunken features. And finally, the family is once again allowed to view the deceased, but only in this falsified form, all to prevent the community from seeing what death truly looks like. And if you haven't guessed already, yes, this final culture is none other than our own. When talking about death across cultures, it's easy to be lured into ethnocentrism. And by that I mean that we look at the practices that we're unfamiliar with as strange or

even frightening, especially when they concern interactions with dead bodies. But the truth is, if you take a step back and look at your own traditions, chances are your practices and beliefs around death are just as uncanny. Now, I am, by transplant at least, a New Englander. And let me tell you, if there was ever a people who had a relationship with death, it was the New England Puritans. You see, the Puritans' way of life was shaped around their religious belief system, a system that relied heavily on fear. Specifically, they were very, very afraid of being sent to hell. The Puritans believed that your eternal fate was sealed the moment you were born, a fate

that you wouldn't find out until you died. On top of that, any sins you committed while alive would inspire the torture that you would receive in the afterlife. And so, given how high the stakes were, it made sense that the Puritans were absolutely obsessed with their impending dooms, and developed a whole cornucopia of superstitions and rituals to cope with it. From the time they were small children, Puritans were put through a sort of death boot camp. Ministers would describe the horrors of hell to little kids in traumatizing detail. And it wasn't all talk, either.

Children were even forced to watch violent public executions to hammer the point home. Open casket wakes were an essential part of Puritan funerary traditions, which may not seem all that different from today, except for the fact that viewing the deceased was mandatory. To fail to look upon the corpse was seen as cheating the deceased's family, regardless of the state of that corpse, mind you. During one wake in 1814, a woman had been burned to death and her ghastly charred corpse was put on display.

Apparently two elderly women took it upon themselves to force a gaggle of young girls to stare at the body, insisting to them that it was, and I quote, your duty to do it. Afterwards, the girls were unable to sleep for weeks. Oh, and looking wasn't the only requirement. No, you had to touch the body as well. In fact, many New Englanders believe that if you looked at a dead person without touching them, their spirit would return to plague your dreams. But hey, if it makes you feel any better,

the mourners were wearing gloves. When a family sent out a funeral invitation, it was often accompanied by a pair of gloves for each person attending. They were called mourning gloves, and they were to be worn throughout the burial. These hot ticket items came in black, white, or surprisingly purple,

and a fresh pair would be sent out for each new funeral. One Boston minister in the 1800s saved every pair of gloves he received during his 32-year career, amassing a total of 2,940 pairs. And these things weren't cheap either. They cost about 4 shillings per pair, which is the equivalent today of about 20 bucks, and the deceased family would have to send out around 100 pairs per funeral. The tradition became so costly and economically burdensome that Massachusetts actually banned them at various points throughout the 18th century. And it wasn't only gloves that mourners were sporting. Wealthier families would also commission special mourning rings.

Reserved for close friends, family, and the minister, these rings were typically made Welfare and mourners were sporting. Wealthier families would also commission special mourning rings. Reserved for close friends, family, and the minister, these rings were typically made of gold and rendered in black and white enamel. They sported images of skeletons, winged skulls, and coffins, and sometimes included a framed lock of the deceased person's hair. At the funeral itself, the Puritan dead would be conveyed to the graveyard by pallbearers and later on, horse-drawn carriages.

They would then be buried. And don't forget to pay attention to the day of the week, because a corpse left unburied on a Sunday was said to cause another death in town within the week. Also, I hope you remember to cover your mirrors with fabric before you left for the service. If left uncovered, you could expect to see the deceased pop up in one of those mirrors when you got home. And of course, perhaps the most beloved New England burial tradition is our gorgeous gravestones. You know, the curved slate stones with small shoulders on either side engraved with a death's

head. Classic stuff. Between the years 1640 and 1810 in particular, the art of stone carving saw a major renaissance. Carvers traveled from town to town, creating thousands of headstones, with each artist bringing his own unique style and iconography to the table. That said, there were certain symbols that meant the same thing across the board. Wings on a skull, for example, represented the flight of death. Hourglasses represented the fleeting nature of time, while coffins stood for mortality. All sorts of images stood in as physical personifications of death itself, including scythes, skeletons, florets, fruit, imps, and even dragons.

As time went on, these symbols shifted. Some fell out of fashion, like the winged skulls, and were replaced with newer images. In the 18th century, winged cherubs, sometimes called soul effigies, were all the rage. By the 19th century, though, neoclassical art had made a cultural comeback, and stone carvers jumped on the bandwagon. Ancient Greek and Roman shapes started showing up on headstones just as it did in American architecture. For example, the ancient Romans had housed cremated ashes in urns and so New England carvers started plopping urn imagery

onto tombstones. Willows too were plucked from the ancient Greek association between willow trees and death. Centuries passed, and today many of these traditions are, well, dead and buried, so to speak. But some remain. Take the modern vehicle known as the hearse, descended from those horse-drawn carriages of yore. Sure, the funeral vehicle may have changed along with technology, but through centuries of death, the concept of the hearse found a way to stay alive. Although, at least for one town in particular, it might have

been better if it hadn't. In 1893, the town of Holden, Maine celebrated the arrival of something special. Mind you, this wasn't your typical excuse for pomp and circumstance. There was no celebrity or politician come to town. No fresh monument or schoolhouse to dedicate. No Holden's new pride and joy was a hearse. That's right, a sleek black horse-drawn chariot for the dead. This hearse had been built in England nearly a century earlier and then shipped over to New England.

It spent its first 25 years in Ipswich, Massachusetts before moving on to New Worcester, Maine, known today as Brewer. There it remained for another 75 years, and what a time it was. This hearse became the envy of all the neighboring towns, the very picture of elegance and funerary splendor. For decades, the nearby town of Holden eyed that hearse with a macabre longing. It was the fanciest hearse in Maine, after all. Plus, it made whatever town that owned it a pretty penny, raking in about $1,000 a year in rental

fees, the equivalent of about $33,000 today. Which is why, when that hearse went on the market, Holden went for it. For a whopping $700, close to $24,000 today, that beautiful hearse was finally theirs. Now previously, Holden had to rent hearse from nearby counties, but not anymore. You see, since their hearse was owned by the town, citizens could use it free of charge. And on top of that, it would be a moneymaker, because now they were the ones that other towns would go to for a hearse rental. Really, with a hearse like that, you

can't afford not to buy it. From then on, the greatest luxury in all of Hancock County was to die and go for a ride in this gorgeous hearse. In fact, the first corpse to be carried in it became something of a local celebrity. No one wants to die, naturally. But in Holden, well, there was a silver lining. A ride in the Holden Hearse. But everything changed a few months later in the fall of 1893. One day the Holden Hearse driver made a trip to transport a body from Bangor, Maine to either Brooksville or Brooklyn, depending on which news report you go by. And being out of the county, this was one of those paid trips. Or, well, it was

supposed to be. But when the driver arrived, he discovered that the family was too poor to afford the full fare. And this was no small trip either. With today's technology, aka cars, it takes about an hour to get from Banger down to either of those two towns. So I can only imagine that a horse-drawn carriage trip would take a good chunk of a day to complete This driver really needed to get paid for his time But rather than be a jerk and try to squeeze extra money from his bereaved clients He came up with another idea. He would stuff the hearse full of fish. Yes, you heard me correctly

Fish you see Holden is a landlocked town heard me correctly. Fish. You see, Holden is a landlocked town, so it wasn't easy to get fish. But both of these possible destinations are on the coast. And here was a chauffeur with a big empty rig, absolutely designed to carry cargo. After all, what's a dead fish versus a dead person, right? Tomato, tomato. The driver knew that saltfish in particular would fetch a pretty penny back in Holden and that selling the fish would more than make up for his lost wages. So he stuffed that bad boy full of salt fish

and then went on his merry way. Now the fish would not damage the hearse or even leave a nasty smell. So the driver didn't see a problem. Heck, people would be excited to get fresh food, right? Well, not so much, because when the driver returned and unveiled his bounty, the people of Holden were not happy. Not only did they think that it was creepy to eat fish out of a working hearse, but it was downright sacrilegious. So the town erupted into anger. The hearse, they exclaimed, was ruined. And this, my friends, is where stubborn

manor energy comes in at full force. Elders began to announce that they refused to die because they didn't want to be taken in the fishy hearse. People boycotted it, refusing to hire it at all. There was a problem with this boycott, though. The hearse still had an active contract with two local cemeteries. So people started refusing not just the hearse, but burial in either of those cemeteries, all to avoid the risk. Heck, they went so far as to start marking off funeral plots on their own land as a backup plan.

Soon enough, news of Holden and its hatred for the fish hearse spread nationwide. An article in 1901 described the scandal as, and I quote, "...the bitterest fight ever seen in eastern Maine. Families became estranged over it, and aged men sent for lawyers in haste and drew up documents declaring that their remains must not be carried to the grave in such a vehicle." Suffice to say, the hearse wasn't getting much use anymore, so they ultimately decided to simply lock it away, out of sight forever. Oh, and by the way, the they I'm referring to here are referenced repeatedly in the papers

as and I quote, the enemies of the hearse, which is a perfect band name, right? I call dibs. Anyway, with the hearse locked away, you might think that the story ends there, but no, because the Holden hearse, it seems, refused to be imprisoned. One morning, the sun rose only to illuminate the hearse waiting horseless and driverless

in a Holden resident's front yard. And this wasn't just any resident. No, they happened to be one of the individuals who owned the hearse. And one more thing, not long after it appeared, that person died. Now, the fellow was old, and it was probably just a coincidence. Maybe some kind of a prank, right? But then the hearse appeared again and again and again, specifically in the yards of other co-owners or known supporters of the hearse. And more times than not, the

person who owned that yard died soon after. It seems the people of Holden had a hearse curse on their hands. Obviously, something had to be done. Numerous meetings were held where the townspeople discussed what the heck to do about the fact that this loathsome fish-stained hearse that they'd spent way too much money on was now appearing as an omen of death in their neighbor's yards. Some said that it should be burned, but that idea was quickly extinguished. Burning, after all, might just end up making the hearse more angry. So in the end, no conclusion was reached.

And so the mystery of the haunted hearse remained unsolved, and the residents went to bed each night afraid that they might be the next victim of the cursed chariot. That is until late one night, when the local constable caught five teenage boys wheeling the hearse through the woods. It turns out these five boys had been jailbreaking the hearse and taking it for joy rides at night, dropping it off in the yards of hearse supporters when they were done. Now, in all fairness, you can't really blame them. Imagine that you are a teenager living in Holden, Maine way back in the late 1800s.

You are bored, you are young, and you just so happen to know about a hated hearse hidden inside a secret barn. Who among us would have passed up such a wonderful opportunity? But their fun was over. They were taken before a magistrate and threatened with reform school if they didn't cut it out. After that the Holden hearse stayed where they put it, and apparently the townsfolk soon returned to good health and regular death rates after that, forevermore. But hey, if you ever visit Holden, I have one small bit of advice. You might want to leave your saltfish safe at home.

We have a tendency in our modern Western culture to push death away, to outsource our dead to professionals who will examine and primp and polish them so we don't have to look reality in the eye, the pervasive fact that the Book of Life does eventually close, no matter how hard we may try to keep it pried open. It's why the Tibetans place their dead on mountaintops, why Puritans donned their purple gloves, why Koreans cling tight to colored beads, and why Filipinos select the finest trees in which to lay their loved ones to rest. Actions that, to an outside observer, may seem senseless, but in fact are just the opposite. Because these traditions add meaning to the most senseless thing of all—death itself.

Rituals give us a sense of control when we have none. They give us our power back. We may not be able to stop death, but with ritual and tradition on our side, at least we can choose how to face it. And all right, I will admit, I love an absurd town-wide feud. But the truth is, the people of late 19th century Holden, Maine really cared about this. Deeply, passionately cared. Why?

Because when it came down to it, the hearse of Holden represented one unassailable truth. Every single member of that town would one day eventually die, and so will I, and so will you. In the end, it's fair to say that rituals and traditions can be as comforting as they are alien. They are at once a familiar solace and a strange, unusual worldview. The fact that we all end up facing the same pain and loss, that we all one day will stand at the threshold of the great unknown, unites us despite our many differences. Death truly is the great equalizer. Every superstition, no matter where it comes from or what it discusses, has an explanation. All you need to do to find it is dig deep enough.

As the saying goes, nothing in this world is certain except death and taxes. But that hasn't kept people from trying to beat death at its own game. For our last story, we've, um, dug up a tale about a father who went to extreme lengths to keep his beloved daughter out of death's grasp forever. Stick around through this brief sponsored break to hear all about it. This episode was sponsored by BetterHelp. Workplace stress is now one of the top causes of declining mental health, with 61% of the global workforce experiencing higher than normal levels of stress.

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and the light has never felt further away. As you make your way through the chilled dark, the first thing you notice is the smell, a sickly sweet aroma wafting through the thin air. As your eyes adjust, you realize with horror what is causing that smell. Corpses. Thousands of them, in various states of decay. Some mummified, others nothing but bone and dust. And then finally, you arrive at the end of a corridor.

And there, flanked by two windows, you see her. The little girl. Her skin is dewy, her cheeks pink and rosy. Delicate eyelashes feather out from her softly closed eyes. And for a moment, you would think that her eyelids are fluttering. There's a yellow bow in her pristine blonde curls, and if you'd come across her anywhere but here, you might believe that she was merely sleeping.

Except she can't be sleeping, because you see, little Rosalia has been lying in this crypt for more than a hundred years. Today she is known as the Sleeping Beauty of Palermo, but while she was alive, she was Rosalia Lombardo and was born in that same city on December 13th of 1918. The same year, mind you, that the Spanish flu rampaged through the world.

Maybe that's what inspired her parents to name her after Palermo's patron saint, Saint Rosalia, a figure whose bones could, according to legend, stave off the plague. But tragically, her holy name couldn't protect her. On December 6th of 1920, Influenza seized young Rosalia Lombardo and snatched her life away with it. She was dead, just one week shy of her second birthday.

Naturally, her parents were devastated. Their child had been taken so far before her time. It wasn't right. Something had to be done. And so Rosalia's father, Mario, took action. He had heard rumors of a Sicilian embalmer named Alfred Salafia who could work miracles with human bodies. He wasn't formally trained, mind you, a medical school dropout and self-taught taxidermist, but Salafia had something even better than a degree. He had a secret potion.

That is, Alfred had developed something he called perfection fluid. It was a special embalming fluid designed to preserve human remains in a state as fresh and flawless as the person had been in life. And Salafia was the only guy on Earth who knew how to make it. And so Mario Lombardo asked Salafia to perform a miracle. Please, he begged him, preserve my daughter so she will never decay. And amazingly, that's what Alfred Salafia did. He had, it seems, cheated death itself. In his own words, the Egyptians tried, the Capuchins tried, but none preserved the cadaver such as addressed at the moment of death. I was able to achieve this.

Little Rosalia became frozen in time, just as she looked at one year, 11 months, and three weeks old. Her family placed her inside a glass-topped coffin deep within the catacombs. And there she has stayed. Decades passed. The little girl became a tourist attraction. Before long, she became famous as the most beautifully preserved body in the world, and visitors flooded to her final resting place to catch a glimpse of her pristine, doll-like remains. And I know what you're thinking. Surely there must have been others like her preserved by this new embalming technology. But here's the thing, throughout his whole life Alfred Salafia kept his cocktail's secret

recipe under lock and key, and when he himself went to his grave, he took his recipe with him. At least for a while. In 2007, 87 years after Rosalia's death, researchers discovered a hand-scrawled document tucked into Salafia's papers. It was a list of ingredients like glycerin, formalin, and chloride, as well as descriptions of how to dissolve paraffin wax in ether to keep human skin plump. That's right, Salafia's secret sauce had been revealed at last. In fact, it turned out to be one of the earliest formaldehyde-based formulas ever created.

In 2011, a crack appeared in Rosalia's glass-topped coffin, and for the first time ever, she began to show signs of decay. And not so unlike her father all those years before, scientists jumped into action desperate to preserve her. She was placed in a temperature-regulated, humidified glass chamber, which should keep her intact for another 100 years. Oh, and this new coffin was also light-resistant. Why? Because it turned out that it wasn't only the cracked glass that had made the child's youth begin to fade. It was also the constant flashes of light from tourists taking photographs.

That's right. All those attempts by tourists to preserve Rosalia were the very things destroying her. This episode of Lore was produced by me, Aaron Manke, with writing by Jenna Rose Nethercott, research by Jamie Vargas, and music by Chad Lawson. Full confession, ten years ago, lore was a hobby and it became my job. And over the years, I struggled to replace that vacuum in my life with another hobby. But one thing that I've always loved doing

since I was in high school back in the 90s was taking pictures in graveyards. And so in honor of this week's episode and our touch on death and the ways that we remember those who have gone before us, I wanted to point out that I post a lot of my graveyard photography on social media. You can find me on Blue Sky and Instagram as AMAHNKE. But I also have a set of postcards that I've had printed of some of my favorite graveyard

photography and that's available on the Grim and Mild website for purchase. Just head over to grimandmild.com and go to the store link and you'll find the postcards listed there. If you love beautiful gravestones, especially old New England ones, I think this is gonna tick that box for you. Okay, back onto the credits.

Lore is much more than just a podcast. There is the three volume World of Lore book series available in bookstores and online, and two seasons of the television adaptation on Amazon Prime. Information about all of that and more is available over at lorepodcast.com. Of course, if you don't like the ads, there is a paid version of Lore on Apple Podcasts and Patreon that is 100% ad-free. Plus, the paid subscribers there also get weekly mini bonus episodes that we call Lore Bytes.

It's a bargain for all of that ad-free storytelling and a great way to support the show and the team behind it. In fact, the story of the Holden Hearse began life as a Lore Byte. Then it moved on to being part of the Lore Tour this past season, and now we get to put it into its own episode this week. So, it all feels very full circle. And you can follow the show on social media platforms as I've mentioned, Blue Sky, YouTube, Instagram, threads,

all those places are available for us. Just search for Lore Podcast, all one word, and then click that follow button. And when you do, say hi. I like it when people say hi. And as always, thanks for listening.