Transcript
Dr. Joy Hardin Bradford (0:00)
This is Dr. Joy Hardin Bradford from Therapy for Black Girls. You know that Amazon has millions of books, so you can find one that gives you just the reading feeling you're looking for. You know, like if you're looking for a relaxed feeling, like with a beach read, Amazon has got it covered. Or if you're looking for more of a terrified ah with evil twins or things lurking in the woods or something, Amazon's got you. I mean, even if you want an aw teen romance, Amazon has it covered too. Amazon Books. That reading feeling awaits.
Erin Manke (0:41)
Welcome to Erin Menke's Cabinet of Curiosities, a production of iHeartRadio and Grim and Mild.
Aaron Manke (0:50)
Our world is full of the unexplainable. And if history is an open book, all of these amazing tales are right there on display, just waiting for us to explore. Welcome to the Cabinet of Curiosities.
Narrator (1:14)
In September of 1985, a fire broke out in a working class home in Yorkshire, England. In just a few short minutes, everything Ron and Mary hall had built for 27 years had gone up in smoke. Well, almost everything. As the firefighters tramped through the home putting out the last of the smoldering embers, something caught their eye. Hanging on the soot blackened wall was a perfectly pristine painting of a young street urchin with tears rolling down his face. Upon seeing it, one of the firefighters sighed. The curse of the crying boy painting had struck again. In the fall of 1985, a strange phenomenon was tearing across England. One by one, houses were going up in smoke. Now, this in and of itself wasn't unusual. Every one of these fires had a perfectly normal explanation, like faulty wiring or a smoldering cigarette. What was strange were the paintings left behind. In nearly every case, the only thing left untouched by the blaze was a framed print of a crying little boy. The crying boy paintings weren't uncommon at the time. In fact, they were hugely popular with working class Brits. As the story goes, after World War II, a series of tearful portraits of children started appearing in Italy and they were attributed to a few different artists like Giovanni Bragelin or Francho Saville. But in truth, these were both pseudonyms for one individual man, Spanish painter Bruno Amedio. Bruno supposedly began painting street urchins as a way to bring attention to the plight of children orphaned by the war. Cheap prints of his paintings were sold all across Europe, proving especially popular with British tourists. So much so that an estimated 50,000 of Bruno's prints were sold in England alone. While this explains why Bruno's paintings were popular, it doesn't shed any light on why they were at the heart of so many mysterious fires. That is, until the newspapers brought a little known story to light. According to the Sun, a British tabloid, one of the most popular Crying Boy paintings was of a young boy named Don Bonillo. Don had been dealt a tragic hand and was orphaned when his parents perished in a fire. And supposedly, wherever Don went, mysterious fires would spontaneously appear. Despite the rumors, Bruno adopted Don. All was well until one day when a fire broke out in Bruno's studio. Angry at the boy, Bruno accused him of arson and kicked him out. And he never saw Don again. But stories of the boy trickled back to him seven years later when a car crashed in Barcelona and burst into flames. The driver's remains were burned beyond recognition, but a driver's license in his wallet identified him as Don Bonillo. This backstory, coupled with the blazes, was enough to convince many Brits that the Crying Boy paintings were cursed. So when a tabloid called the sun offered to help people get rid of their unwanted art, hundreds of prints came pouring into their London office. On Halloween night in 1985, the sun built a bonfire of Crying Boy paintings and set them alight. And with that, they put an end to the Crying Boy curse, which was very poetic, as after all, they had started it in the first place. You see, the sun was a tabloid that was not above embellishing a story to sell a paper. And in 1985, it was a paper that was in a war. Its chief rival, the Daily Mirror, was threatening its circulation. So when the first Crime Boy story proved popular, they leaned into it. Yes, the fires were real, as were the Crime Boy portraits. But since it was such a popular series of prints, there was really nothing unusual about them being present at multiple house fires. Oh, and about Bruno the enigmatic painter. While he was a real painter, it's doubtful that he ever adopted a young fire starter street urchin. Especially not one who wanted to haunt his paintings. That was an invention of the sun as well. And as for the paintings themselves, well, even at the time, the firemen believed that they knew why the prints survived the fires. The cheap prints many people had in their homes were made of high density hardboard. This material is very tough to burn. In fact, when a BBC presenter tried to set one on fire in 2010, he was barely able to singe the boy. With that, any last lingering beliefs in the Crying Boy curse suddenly went up in smoke.