1927 was an exciting time for Arthur Bassett. At 28 years old, Arthur was already a highly respected police officer who had served in the department for three years.
There was much debate at the time about whether the bullets that struck him were actually meant for him or not, but one thing was abundantly clear on that August night in 1930: Joe Giovingo was dead. One minute, Joe was standing on South Main Street speaking to two detectives, and the next, he was crumpled on the sidewalk in a pool of blood.
A story about a man having a mouse in his house may not seem very newsworthy today, but that is exactly what was in the headlines of the Rockford newspapers in December 1883. Apparently, Mr. Blakesley, who lived “at the foot of Winnebago Street” during that time, had been awakened by strange noises in the night. He described the sounds much like the singing of a canary.
Frank Cichella’s life in Rockford was pretty typical for the early 1900s. He wasn’t from Rockford originally. In fact, he wasn’t from the United States. Frank came here when he was 16 years old, leaving his home of Ferentino, Italy.
“Time heals all wounds” is a familiar saying, and while it may work that way for some things, even time can’t heal the wounds that the families of Stan Skridla and Mary Jane Reed have suffered. It has been 66 years
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