Upper Management

caving into every one of their demands. It's nice to know that there's a manager in our corner who will keep the unreasonable at Bay. Mini Cox probably felt the same way too. She was born many Gettings in Mississippi back in eighteen sixty nine and grew up in Lexington. Her upbringing wasn't common for other black children and families at the time, though for one her family owned their own restaurant in town. She also went on to earn

a degree at Fisk University in Nashville, Tennessee. Fisk was a historically black university, and Minnie was one of one hundred other students who graduated with a teaching degree in eighteen eighty eight. Minnie got married the following year to a man named Wellington Cox, also a teacher, who had left his career for a job with United Railway postal Service. This upward move allowed him to buy one hundred and sixty acres of land and move within local political circles.

It also helped Many find a career of her own. In eighteen ninety one, President Benjamin Harrison, in need of a postmaster for Indianola, Mississippi, appointed Mini Cox to the position. She held on to a role until eighteen ninety two, when Democratic President Grover Cleveland was elected, but she returned five years later under Republican William McKinley and subsequently under President the Or Roosevelt as well. Many was good at

her job, but some people didn't think so. Several white citizens of Indianola circulated a petition in an effort to force Many to resign and leave her eleven hundred dollars a year job, serving roughly three thousand patrons in the area. But Many hadn't done anything to deserve their ire. She was a dedicated employee. She worked far longer than she was paid to each day, and she even covered late rents for post office boxes out of her own pockets.

Many also made sure that her customers had as many conveniences as they could, such as a direct telephone line to the post office. She paid for it herself so that her patrons could call ahead to see if any new mail had arrived. Many cared about her position and her community. She wasn't being forced to resign because she was bad at her job. She was being forced to

resign because she was black. Much of Indianola's white population wanted all people of color removed from government leadership positions, and that included many Cucks. Pretty Soon, a white supremacist named James K. Vardaman began speaking out against missus Cox as well. He didn't just want her out, he wanted her job and salary for himself. Eventually, the anger and prejudice within the town got to be too much. White mobs began attacking black owned businesses and fearing for her safety,

Minnie soon tendered her resignation. It hit President Roosevelt's desk on December fifth of nineteen o two, But it turns out Teddy wasn't too pleased with what had gone down in Indianola, and he refused to accept Minnie's resignation. Instead, he gave Attorney General Philander Chase Knox the order to prosecute any individual who had threatened her life. Oh and he shut down the post office until she was allowed

to return to her position safely. All Indianola mail was rerouted thirty miles away, and Roosevelt continued to pay her salary while the office was closed. Sadly, Minnie and her family left town for some time. She had been threatened with a broken neck if she ever stepped foot there again, but they did eventually return to the town they loved and opened the Delta Penny Savings Bank. It was one of the first African American owned banks to open in

all of Mississippi. As for the post office, it reopened one year after Many moved away, this time under a white postmaster. But in two thousand and eight Many got the recognition she so rightly deserved when the Indianola Post Office was renamed to the Mini Cox Post Office Building. And as for the bully that forced her to leave, James Vardeman, Well, there was a building at the University of Mississippi that once bore his name, but it also

underwent a change. In twenty seventeen, the university stripped Vardeman's name off the facility, calling the white supremacist distinctly unworthy of honor. And all I have to say for that is good riddance. Everyone has a different idea of how they want to be dealt with after they die. Many by plots in a cemetery so they can be buried alongside lost loved ones. Others may opt to be cremated and have their ashes spread over somewhere that was meaningful

to them while they were still alive. Joseph Margonatt, though, went another route entirely. Born in Missouri in eighteen sixty, Joseph lived in Corondelet, a neighborhood in southeastern Saint Louis. His parents were landowners and eventually sold some of their property to the city, which then became part of Carondelette Park. Joseph was a devout Catholic, though not so much in practice. Sure, he attended Mass at the local church, but according to

his descendants, he wasn't the nicest guy in town. When kids would accidentally hit their baseballs into his yard, for example, he would take them inside his home leaving the children scrambling for a new ball to play with and hopefully sending them with a warning to not play near his house again. But Joseph was a complex man. He was religious, he just didn't care much for the children who lived in the neighborhood, and he was fascinated by Egyptian archaeology.

In nineteen twenty two, egyptologist Howard Carter led a team of explorers into the Valley of the Kings. This was an area that was surrounded by sedimentary rock and had been carved out thousands of years ago as a burial site for the pharaohs. Then one of those pharaohs happened to be Tutan common also known as King Tut, who

died around three thousand, three hundred years ago. Joseph Margonott had cut out and kept several newspaper clippings about the discovery of King Tut's tomb, and he must have studied the articles extensively. Perhaps he even did some research on his own on how the pharaoh had been preserved. Because his surviving family members were given explicit instructions on how to handle his body after his death. Joseph passed away from cancer in nineteen twenty four, and his will was

quite clear. According to the December thirtieth issue of the Saint Louis Post dispatched that year. The will, it said, after directing that the internal organs be removed from the body to facilitate the mummifying process, ordered that the body be placed in a vault in Mount Olive Cemetery, there to be on view indefinitely through glass of the hermetically sealed casket. Joseph had thought of everything. He didn't just

want to be mummified like too it's uncommon. He wanted everyone to see the fruits of his labor and the evidence of his obsession. Once his organs had been removed, Joseph's body was then injected daily with a preservative liquid, while his skin was specially treated to prevent it from drying out. His mummified corpse was then toured around Corondelets in the weeks following his death. His body was exhibited at the funeral home for three days before it was

transported to his own house for additional services. Joseph was then carted off to Mass at his regular church, followed by a trip to his final resting place, the mausoleum at Mount Olive Cemetery. Now, the mausoleum is small. According to an article in the Telegraph, it's no bigger than a standard backyard shed. As you step inside, you'll notice

two large shapes, one on each side. To the right is a sarcophagus, which holds the remains of Joseph's mother and father, and to the left is a brown coffin, elevated on some kind of platform and coated in dust. Once the latches on the outside of that coffin are popped and the lid is lifted, you're able to see what Joseph Marginatt had planned all along. His body shows somewhere in tear, but beneath the long pane of glass that's on top, he's still there, mostly intact. In one

hand is a rosary. He looks as though he fell asleep mid prayer. Despite being dead for the last one hundred years, Joseph looks quite good for his age. There were also other stipulations in his will, such as to have his clothes swapped out every once in a while, and with his bank accounts still active today, his wishes should remain honored for some time to come. Joseph wasn't too well liked by his community. He was a recluse and a tad eccentric. I mean, just look at him now.

But one thing nobody realized about him. He was also something of a hoarder. His home was searched following his death, and all those baseballs that he'd stolen from neighborhood kids, they were all still there in one big collection. And I'd call that curious. 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 Mank 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 Loore dot com. And until next time, stay curious.