Category: History, Mon Valley Miscellany || By

Because it's Halloween, I've looked around my tattered, dusty archives and found a grisly tale. Back in 1998, I was asked to write a "10 years later" piece on the Tony Michalowski murder for the Tribune-Review.

Well, it's 19 years later, and police still don't know how or why Michalowski was killed, or who dismembered him and scattered his remains in three Mon Valley towns, so it seems as good a time as any to look back.

Police always suspected Michalowski's killer was Robert Wayne Marshall, 37, of Shadyside, who was also a suspect in the death and dismemberment of another man. But before they could pull Marshall in for questioning in 1992, he took an overdose of pills and liquor and slashed his wrists open, committing suicide in May of that year.

You can read about the Michalowski case in the "Local History" section of Tube City Online. There doesn't seem to be anything else online about the case; who knows, maybe having it out there where Google can find it will prompt someone to remember the slaying.

. . .

In Related Stories: Floyd Nevling, who's quoted throughout the Michalowski story, was recently dismissed as Pleasant Hills police chief in what sure sounds like a political vendetta. The borough accuses Nevling of being unprofessional and creating a hostile work environment for police officers.

Nevling notes that these accusations only became an issue after he sued the borough for a disability pension, and after his wife won the Republican nomination for a seat on Pleasant Hills council.

Ah, local government in the Mon-Yough area ... making Chicago in the '50s seem sane by comparison!

. . .

The Shop Around The Coroner: Incidentally, if you read the Michalowski story, you'll also note that I quote former Allegheny County Coroner Joshua Perper. About a week after the original Michalowski story ran in 1999, I received a letter from Dr. Cyril Wecht, who (it's safe to say) dislikes Perper.

"It must have been difficult for you to write such a lengthy article about the coroner's office without mentioning my name," Wecht wrote to me. "Thank you for not associating me with the failings of my predecessor."

I still don't know if that was a slam or a compliment, but I treasured it anyway. I happen to be a fan of Wecht and own a couple of his books; unfortunately, what I really wanted was a letter from Wecht like this one.

Ah, maybe some day I'll get one. Then I'll know that I've arrived.

. . .

Sorry 'Bout That: You'll forgive me if Tuesday's Almanac never appeared. I spent most of the day in bed with a sinus headache, waking up only to head to my local grocery store, the House of Rancid Lunchmeat, where a large woman was haranguing one of the cashiers.

"Where the Halloween candy?" she asked.

"All we have left is what's on that shelf," the cashier said. There were a few lonely bags containing "fun-size" packets of M&Ms and plain chocolate Hershey bars.

The lady looked it over, snorted, then went back to the checkout line. The only thing she was buying was a 5-pound bag of Domino sugar.

I desperately wanted to ask, "Are you making your own Halloween candy? Or do you want a straw so you can eat that here?"

But I didn't, which is a good thing, because she easily outweighed me by 100 pounds and would have splatted me like a bug.

. . .

Also Noted: At the House of Rancid Lunchmeat, there was a neatly printed sign on the frozen-food cooler that said, "Due to the recall of Banquet pot pies, we are unable to sell them at the present time. Sorry for the inconvenience."

Underneath, someone had pasted a copy of a fax from ConAgra discussing the recall. On the fax they had written in felt-tip pen: "We are NOT ALLOWED TO SELL the pot pies. Don't ask!"

I'm assuming that people heard: "Hmm, Banquet pot pies were recalled because they might cause diarrhea, vomiting and rectal bleeding. Maybe the supermarket will sell 'em to me cheap! Whoo-hoo!"

I've said it before, and I'll say it again: We're in no need of our own Mensa chapter any time soon.