While the name may sound made up, I assure you the tale is anything but. In Chicago, Illinois, on the south side of the 1700 block of West Diversey Parkway, you will find residential condominiums. But it wasn’t always that way. Once that area was home to a factory – a sausage factory to be precise, and now home to the Sausage Ghost.
Adolph Luetgert moved to the United States in the 1860’s from his home country of Germany. Starting in New York City, he stayed with his older brother, Henry, who had immigrated some time before him. A few months later, he picked up and moved to Illinois, where he found work at a tannery – tanning being a skill he and his brothers had all learned from their father. Work and pay were unsteady, so he took on side jobs here and there. He worked until he had saved up four thousand dollars – enough to start his own business.
Initially, Adolph opened a liquor store, but ultimately started the Luetgert Sausage & Packing Company. In time, he would earn himself the nickname “Sausage King of Chicago.”
He married twice, his first wife, Caroline Roepke, with whom he had two sons, died after just 5 years of marriage. Two months later, he found himself married again, this time to Louisa Bicknese. Together they had four children, giving Adolph a total of 6. Unfortunately, only three of these children survived beyond the age of 2.
Adolph and Louisa were known for being good natured people. Their customers loved them and loved their sausage even more.
While they were successful, things at home weren’t so great. During the Panic of 1896, the couple ran into money problems. Adolph began courting a rich widow, who he planned to marry. Only problem – he was already married to Louisa.
Louisa Luetgert disappeared. Adolph told their children that their mother had gone to visit her sister the previous night, but never returned. Louisa’s brother, Diedrich Bicknese went to police just days later, on May 1, 1897. When questioned, Adolph told police that she had run away with another man. However, there was a problem with this account.
On the night of her disappearance, Louisa was seen entering the sausage factory with her husband at around 10:30pm. A watchman was able to confirm the fact but could not account for what happened afterward – Adolph had given him an errand to run and gave him the rest of the evening off.
During their search, police found receipts, noting Adolph’s purchase of arsenic and potash the day before Louisa disappeared. All signs pointed to the husband.
An employee suggested they look in the steam vat in the cellar which was used during the sausage making process. There, they found the vat, half full, with a reddish-brown liquid. Pulling the plug revealed a slimy liquid and even bones. Nearby they found hair and clothing.
The accounts of what truly happened to Louisa Luetgert vary – and there are two accepted beliefs. The explanation given by police and prosecutors says that she was murdered, her body boiled in lye, then burned in the factory furnace. The more popular explanation is far more grim.
Rumors swirled throughout Chicago. Sausage sales decreased amid claims that the Sausage King had killed his wife, ground her up, and sold her as sausage to unknowing customers. People reported that the quality of their sausage had dropped significantly. People claimed they had found bone chips and hair in their sausage. Some just said it tasted funny.
Adolph Luetgert was arrested and tried. The damning evidence was Louisa’s ring. If not for that he may have walked free. Instead, on February 9, 1898, he was found guilty and sentenced to life in prison. On July 7, 1899, he was found dead in his cell. The official cause of death being “fatty degenerative heart disease.”
Since her death, it is believed that Louisa Luetgert still haunts the area. What was once a factory, and now homes. There have been sightings up and down the street. Though she has done no harm, she is known as the Sausage Ghost.
While men have been known to kill their wives, their method of hiding isn’t usually this creative. Women take the win on that – just ask Leonarda Cianciulli – the Soap Maker.
