The Scenic Route

confined space under six feet of dirt. During the eighteenth and nineteen centuries, safety coffins were manufactured with bells attached to let passer buyers know if someone had been accidentally interred. Testing whether someone had passed on or not wasn't entirely scientific. It usually involved putting pepper and vinegar in the person's mouth or poking their feet with hot pokers. But no amount of testing was enough for Hannah Beswick, nor was

a safety coffin. Beswick, like many folk living during the middle of the eighteenth century, had a pathological fear of accidentally being buried alive. It was kind of a problem too. Thousands of people were buried alive in England and Wales during the seventeen and eighteen hundreds. She didn't want to go through that in the event of her possible death, and with good reason. A number of years before she died,

Hannah witnessed the loss of her brother, or so she thought. She, along with the other mourners, watched as the lid was lowered over his coffin until someone saw his eyelids flicker. The family physician, Charles White, stepped in and examined the man and determined that he was not, in fact dead. Hannah's brother awoke several days later, seemingly no worse for wear,

but the young miss Beswick was certainly affected. She consulted with Dr White and asked him to make sure that she was never buried prematurely if she happened to pass away without warning. And this is where the details surrounding her will and testament get a bit vague. As far as we know, she didn't explicitly asked Dr White to do anything except keep her from going into the ground too soon, and so the good doctor took that to heart.

When Hannah passed away in seventeen fifty eight, he made sure that her body was nowhere near a coffin or a grave site. Instead, he had her inbound a mixture of turpentine and vermilion were injected into her veins, while camphor, nitra and resin were put in place of her organs. Her body was then coated in fragrant oils and the box she was stored in was filled with plaster of Paris to preserve her. By this point, Hannah Beswick was dead, there was no doubt about that, but she couldn't be

placed in the ground yet. Rather, her corpse was held at the home of a family member. Before Dr White took possession of her body, he put it on display in a clock case inside of his own house. She remained there until his death in eighteen thirteen, at which point the late Miss Beswick was transferred to another doctor by the name of Olier, who donated her in eighteen and the eight to the up and coming Museum of

the Manchester Natural History Society. Placed right inside the museum's entrance, Hannah became known as the Manchester Mummy and was placed next to an Egyptian and a Peruvian mummy. She became a big hit with visitors and the press, as there were several articles written about her after she entered the museum. The facility was eventually taken over by Manchester University in eighteen sixty seven, at which point it was decided that

Hannah Beswick was officially dead. There was no chance of her coming alive anymore, and so it was time to lay her to rest. But it wasn't as simple as just placing her in a coffin and lowering her into the ground. According to an English law put in place in eighteen thirty seven, a medical examiner had to issue a certificate of death before a person could be buried. Since Hannah had died in seventeen fifty eight, a letter was sent to the Secretary of State asking for permission

to enter her remains. Permission was swiftly granted, and on July twenty second of eighteen sixty eight, Hannah Beswick was buried in an unmarked grave in a Manchester cemetery. She was ten years old. Some claimed to see her ghost, clad in a black silk gown in a white cap, walking through the parlor of her old home. She was even spotted on the grounds after the house was torn down to make room for a factory. Hannah Beswick had a pathological fear of being buried alive, but her ghost

never left. Maybe it wasn't about spending her final moments confined to a small box under six feet of dirt. Maybe she just had a really bad case a fomo. Running a marathon is no small feet. It takes months of practice, running almost every day and building up stamina until you're able to endure a full twenty six point two mile journey from start to finish. The average time it takes to complete a marathon is anywhere from four

to five hours. Fastest time ever taken to complete one was back in two thousand eighteen when Eliud kup Jogi from Kenya won the Berlin Marathon in just two hours, one minute and thirty nine seconds. But what about the slowest marathon? I mean sure, someone out there must hold the world record for the longest time ever taken to reach the finish line. Right For that, we need to look no further than Jizo can occurry. Jizo was born

in Nagomi, Kumamoto, Japan, in eighteen ninety one. He started setting records when he was only twenty years old, most notably at the domestic qualifying trials for the nineteen twelve Stockholm Olympics. Jesu finished to twenty five mile marathon in just two hours, thirty two minutes and forty five seconds. Because of his performance, he became the first Japanese athlete to ever qualify for the Olympics. His fellow college classmates held a fundraiser to help him pay for his travel

expenses to Sweden, and he did get there eventually. It took eighteen days, first by ship and then by Trans Siberian railway. It was an immense journey, one that required almost a week to recover, but on the day of the event, Jesu was ready. He held the weight and expectations of an entire nation on his shoulders, a pressure only exacerbated by the seventy seven degree Swedish heat. Between the travel and the weather changes, most of the runners

came down with hypothermia, even Canna. Curry's own coach was beset with tuberculosis, so he wasn't able to train properly before the race. Regardless of his setbacks, though, Jisu was at the starting line on race day and he took off running. He had the opportunity to not only set a new world record by winning this event, but also be the first Japanese competitor to win a gold medal at the Olympics. Hours after the race began, though, the first runners started to cross the finish line and Canna

Curry was nowhere to be found. He had simply vanished. Race officials tried looking him up, as did his coach and teammate, but he was just gone. So what happened to the mirrorical runner who was supposed to carry his country to Olympic victory. According to some reports, the intense heat caused him to pass out in a nearby garden. Others claimed that he decided to pay a visit to

an outdoor party that was going on. Regardless of the reason, can Of Curry was taken in by a kind Swedish family who fed him, gave him a change of clothes and a place to sleep for the night. He was despondent over failing his team and his homeland, believing he had disappointed everybody and brought shame to them. He went back to Japan without telling anyone. He didn't even notify

the race officials that he had returned. The Swedes started telling stories about the lost runner, how he was like a ghost looking for the finished line that would never come, and in a way that was true Jesu can occur. It was so distraught over not finishing the Olympic race

that he never stopped running. He made it his life's mission to restore honor to both himself and Japan by doing what he did best, and that meant teaching, founding other long distance races, and building up an national interest

in the sport. He also got women involved as well, and made an effort to train blind students by letting them guide themselves using a string tied from the starting line to the finish Canna Curry was all about inclusion, but sadly, he never finished the race that had given him his start in the first place. And then, in nineteen sixty seven, Schizo got a call from a Swedish journalist. He invited the seventies six year old athlete to finish

what he had started all those years ago. Kenna Curry went back to Stockholm's Olympic Stadium, where eighteen thousands screaming fans and handfuls of journalists from all over the world watched as he finally crossed the finish line of a race that had started fifty four years, eight months, six days, five hours, thirty two minutes and twenty point three seconds earlier, he was awarded the Guinness World Record for longest time to complete a marathon, after which Canna Curry took a

brief detour to visit the home of the family that had taken him in during the original race. The couple, of course, was long gone, but their son now lived there, and he served Kenna Curry a glass of orange juice. When asked for a comment on finally completing his race, Kenna Curry didn't give an impassion speech about finishing what you've started or seeing things through to the end. He

simply told the truth. It has been a long race, but then I got myself a wife, six children, and ten grandchildren during it, and that takes time, you know. Curious to say the least, I hope you've enjoyed today's guided tour of the Cabinet of Curiosities. Subscribe for free on Apple Podcasts, or learn more about the show by visiting Curiosities podcast dot com. The show was created by

me Aaron Manky in partnership with how Stuff Works. I make another award winning show called Lore, which is a podcast, book series, and television show, and you can learn all about it over at the World of Lore dot com, and until next time, stay curious.