Duo researches century-old crimes
In March 2008, Carol Holochuk was looking through microfilm in the Butler Public Library for an obituary from the early 20th century when she spotted an interesting item.
The man who she looked up, Samuel Jones, didn’t die of natural causes. He was murdered by his best friend, Milton Gold, in 1919.
Wanting to learn more, she looked through more papers from that week and found several news stories detailing the case.
Gold allegedly thought Jones was having an affair with his wife. This led to an argument at a Butler saloon, which culminated in him shooting Jones and then turning the gun on himself.
Because Gold died of his injuries six days later, he was never tried for murder and his name stopped appearing in the papers.
After piecing together what happened with the killing, Holochuk and fellow library volunteer Barb Cress were hooked on playing detective.
“There is a treasure trove of genealogical information in these murders,” Holochuk said.
Because of this interest, the women over the past seven years have been reading old papers and keeping files on murders from the 19th century and early 20th century.
To date they have a collection of notes and newspaper clippings that tell the stories of several dozen killings.
Both members of the Butler County Genealogical Society, Holochuk and Cress volunteer in the genealogy room in the library every Wednesday morning.
Cress of Renfrew and Holochuk of West Sunbury are both retired and have been researching genealogy as a hobby for years. At Tuesday’s genealogical society meeting, they shared an overview of their methods and what they have found.
A big part of their work at the library is helping people with genealogical research by looking for obituaries, accessing census records and using other online resources.
The skills they use to find people’s ancestors have been helpful in finding details on murderers, murder victims and other nearly forgotten stories from the history of the area.
They set an unofficial cutoff for their collection of 1920. Many of the crimes are from the 19th century, while some are from the early 20th century.
The research is made more interesting, though sometimes more challenging, by the different writing and reporting style of the papers in those times.
Obituaries there would list people’s ages as “around 60” and would give initials instead of full names, Holochuk said.
Later, the papers became more likely to print gossip and private information like details of violent crimes.
Special collections librarian Margaret Hewitt said the library’s collection of microfilm goes back to 1825 with a few older papers.
During the 19th century, obituaries and news stories were short and lacking in details, but around the turn of the 20th century, they became more similar to tabloid style, Hewitt said.
“They don’t mince words, and they don’t skip over a lot of gruesome details if it was a train accident or a murder,” she said.
One of the most interesting stories they have researched is the case of Max Kreditch.
The different papers offered incomplete and sometimes conflicting information about Kreditch, including the spelling of his name, though Holochuk and Cress think they have his story mostly figured out.
Kreditch was an immigrant from Russia who lived in Lyndora with his wife, Mary, and their three children in the early 20th century.
On Dec. 20, 1907, his wife was found beaten to death, and Kreditch was arrested.
At his trial he acted as though he could not speak English and required a translator, though he was later seen speaking English with his attorney.
In one news story, he was quoted as supposedly saying “she was my wife and I had the right to kill her,” Cress said.
Despite the defense’s official argument that Mary had an epileptic seizure, Kreditch was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to 16 years in prison.
After 10 years, he was released on parole and tracked down his daughter Natalie, who was 17 years old and living in Canton, Ohio.
He allegedly shot and killed his daughter and then shot himself in the head.
Following the second incident, the story of the Kreditch family is largely unknown.
Kreditch’s other two children supposedly lived in an orphanage and were later adopted, but the adoption records are sealed, so the trail of information ends there.
Cress and Holochuk said they will continue their research when they have the time.
So far their collection has served mainly for their own entertainment, but they also have considered compiling their notes into a book.
Since a professionally published book may not sell enough copies to justify being made, they have considered having a book made that would only be available at the library or making an e-book that could be sold on the genealogy society’s website.