True Terror with Robert Englund

Hidden away in news reports from America's past

are tales so frightening that they must be true.

I'm Robert Englund.

Join me on a journey

into the dark shadows of our nation's history

to uncover a trilogy of stories as terrifying as they are real.

A greedy undertaker...

McGovern...

...faces the wrath of the dead.

Who's there?

...a farmer battles a devilish curse...

Show yourself!

...and a couple's dream home hides a dark secret.

Brace yourself...

...for true terror.

I'm sure you've heard the old saying "life is for the living,"

but truth be told,

that's a rule the dead have a knack for defying.

Don't believe me?

Well, then, I've got three stories to prove

there are spirits playing all around us.

Let's begin with a tale that's almost a century old,

when a conniving scoundrel refused to heed

Death's "Do not disturb" sign.

The year is 1925.

The place -- Denver, Colorado's Cheesman Park,

a sliver of paradise

in one of America's fastest-growing cities.

The elderly man walking its grounds is Edward P. McGovern.

He's lived in Denver most of his life,

but it's been years since his last visit to the park.

Room for one more?

Beautiful park. Just beautiful.

Absolutely.

You look familiar, old man.

Do I?

You're Edward McGovern, right?

Quite right, friend.

I've been waiting for you.

Edward McGovern first stepped foot on these grounds

some 30-odd years earlier.

At that time, it was a neglected cemetery

called Mount Prospect.

Mount Prospect Cemetery was built in 1858.

Over four decades, the cemetery became a dumping ground

for Denver's undesirables --

paupers, criminals, and the like --

a total of about 5,000 people.

No one took care of the place.

And, eventually, it became a blemish on the city.

In 1893, Denver's civic leaders

decide to replace the neglected cemetery

with a dazzling, new park.

But that leaves the city with a huge problem --

Every one of Mount Prospect's 5,000 bodies

has to be exhumed and relocated.

So, we starting tomorrow?

On schedule?

8:00 A.M.

Tell the mayor not to worry.

By trade, McGovern is an undertaker.

Somehow, strings are pulled at City Hall,

landing him the contract to do the work.

According to the contract,

McGovern is to be paid $1.90 for each unclaimed body

and $2 for each headstone.

The project offers more than a decent payday.

But as McGovern's foreman, John Daniels, learns,

His boss has an audacious plan to strike it rich.

Mr. McGovern, why all the baby coffins?

I don't understand.

Every stiff gets a new box. It's in the contract.

But we don't have any adult-sized coffins,

not a single one.

The tiny ones will do just fine.

I'm afraid I still don't understand.

The contract makes no mention of the size of the box.

McGovern hatches an insanely corrupt

and horrible idea to pad his profits.

The city is paying him by the coffin, not the body.

Incredibly, he's ordered his crew to dismember the corpses,

then divide the remains into three separate infant coffins,

tripling his profits.

It's really quite simple.

The more coffins, the bigger the payday.

This is like something out of a Stephen King thriller.

The difference is this isn't fiction.

Day after day,

McGovern's workers methodically commit atrocities

on Mount Prospect's dead.

Not one of them dares to speak a word of it.

These men were desperate for jobs,

and this was a really good one

when you consider what McGovern was paying them.

Nobody's gonna blow the whistle on that kind of payday.

As for Denver's poor, forgotten souls,

this is definitely not the way

they expected to spend their eternity.

And unlike the workers, their silence isn't guaranteed.

McGovern...

Who's there?

Very funny.

Sorry, sir, I couldn't resist.

Nice touch with the cigar, too.

What cigar?

That one.

I'm sorry, Mr. McGovern. That -- That wasn't me.

You have a good night.

You've got a pretty colorful past, McGovern.

I, uh...

I didn't catch your name.

Oh, but you must remember me.

I, uh -- I know you?

Quite right.

As an undertaker,

Edward McGovern has always

felt at home with the dead.

But among Mount Prospect's restless souls,

he's making himself a target.

His mistake --

believing his victims are powerless.

So, this guy wasn't just chopping these bodies up.

McGovern is so greedy, he thinks nothing

of stealing from these corpses that he's already abusing.

You can't get a more brazen than that.

While it's true the dead make easy victims,

that doesn't mean they have no objections.

McGovern...

Got some papers for you to sign.

Finally, on March 19, 1893,

McGovern's plan is exposed to all of Denver,

thanks to the local paper, The Republican.

And the desecrations at Mount Prospect

are denounced as...

Once this hits the papers, the city fires Edward McGovern.

The Mount Prospect scandal is so devastating

that the city leaders throw up their hands

and 2,000 bodies

are never relocated.

And as creepy as it sounds,

they decide to build Cheesman Park...

...right on top of the graves.

The historical records don't mention whether or not

McGovern expressed any sense of guilt,

but we all have a conscience.

All those poor suckers...

...right below our feet.