Posts Tagged ‘murder’

I am sharing a blog.

I read it a few days ago. In almost one sitting.

It follows a young Dublin woman’s quest to solve a case that haunts her. She heard about the shocking story only sixteen months ago. Even though it actually happened almost thirty years ago. 1988.

It is about an unsolved murder that took place in Northern Ireland. A young German girl, Inga-Maria, armed with only her back pack, diary and itinerary was on a ferry that docked in Northern Ireland. Her plan was to head to Belfast.

This girl, only eighteen years old, never made it.

Maybe she never stepped a foot on Irish soil while she was alive. It’s possible she accepted a ride from someone and was in a vehicle on the ferry that drove off into the night. Away from Belfast. Or maybe she did step foot in the country after disembarking and accepted a ride from a lorry driver. Although those who knew her said she was not in the habit of accepting rides from strangers.

Her body was found in a forest called Ballypatrick in County Antrim.

What the investigators do know is that she was brutally raped and her neck broken. They also know, based on where the body was dumped, that the murderer(s) knew the Ballypatrick Forest like the back of his hand.

It is the widely held belief that there is a person (or persons) in one of the three neighboring towns who has knowledge of this crime.

The author of this blog has one goal. To bring closure to this case for the sake of Inga-Maria’s family. Bless her for her dogged determination to keep Inga-Maria on everyone’s mind. Inga-Maria’s father has died since the murder. But her mother is still alive. An old woman now. Wondering who took the life of her precious daughter.

That person has to be held accountable for this brutal crime.

The clock is ticking.

And when that happens it will be the result of this young woman’s campaign. She, who was haunted by this horror, kept this story alive. In her blog, music and television. Hoping that the message will eventually and finally get to the right person.

https://thekeeleychronicles.wordpress.com

And if you don’t have the time to read it all in one sitting have a listen to a recently released recording of Inga-Maria singing “Greensleeves.” Part 13 of the blog and the most recent posting.

A haunting but beautiful voice from the grave. A message for us all. So that we will continue to share her story. To bring the killer(s) to justice so that she can finally rest in peace.

I’m looking forward to when “The Keeley Chronicles” will no longer need to exist. I hope it’s very soon.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

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This past summer I was driving to my friend’s home in Rhode Island with my two daughters. It’s a lovely area near the beaches. Tree lined roads winding by horses grazing, babbling brooks and placid ponds. Gorgeous old, clapboard homes on green acres dot the landscape.

My eldest, who is twenty five, says, “This area is so beautiful. Not like the usual creepy New England towns.”

I exclaim, “What?? Creepy like how? A van with no windows is creepy. But not New England!”

Later on, while we are soaking up the sun on a fabulous beach, same daughter proceeds to tell my friend that ever since she was a little kid I’ve told her probably every single ghost story or mystery that took place in our part of New England.

Okay, when you put it like that. I sound like a monster.

It’s true. I might have pointed out a haunted house or two.

The Westport house where folks claimed a ghost resided.  One of the occupants fell asleep in a rocking chair and woke up with a haircut.

I probably mentioned the ghost of the red-headed hitchhiker on Interstate 195.

Most likely gave the background of the childhood rhyme about Lizzie Borden. I did take my youngest (seventeen at the time) to Lizzie’s house last year where the gruesome crimes took place.

I may have pointed out the lovely house that sits at the bottom of Metacomet golf course in my home town. Shared that murders were never a thing while I was growing up but a few years before I was born an elderly widow had been murdered in that very home during a robbery.

Could have mentioned the still unsolved mystery of the “New Bedford Highway Killer.” Eleven prostitutes went missing. Nine were found strangled and dumped in the woods. And that it was very possible a local attorney was the killer and actually indicted at one time. He moved to Florida in 1988 and there were no more murders on that stretch of highway since then.

Yes, I might have shared a story or two.

Dear Norah,

I’m very sorry and hope that you realize it’s not New England that’s creepy. Stuff happens everywhere.

It’s just your Mom who is creepy.

Hope I didn’t do too much damage. I’m just thankful that I spent a lot of quality, non-creepy time with you when you were young.

I absolutely loved cuddling up with you at bedtime every evening while reading you many, many wonderful fairy tales. As you peacefully drifted off to sleep.

Like Snow White and her killer stepmother. The orphaned Bambi who yearns for his murdered mother. Three little pigs trying to protect themselves from the wolf who wants to destroy their home. Hansel and Gretel’s great escape from the witch who attempted to burn them alive in an oven. And so many others.

I pray that, in some small way, it makes up for the ghost stories.

Love,

Mom

 

 

 

 

 

 

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