🐟 Fishtown’s fuzzy borders | Morning Newsletter

Happy Monday, Philly. We’re in for some sunshine, with highs near the low 70s.

Today, we start with a question: Where, exactly, does Fishtown begin and end?

Then, our reporters have uncovered an uncanny connection to a crematorium in the sprawling missing persons investigation centered on the Olney home of Raymond “R.C.” Horsch.

Plus, Pennsylvania officials struggle to balance transparency and privacy concerns in measles cases, and more news of the day.

— Laura Benshoff (morningnewsletter@inquirer.com)

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Decades of gentrification in the River Wards have blurred Fishtown’s borders.

Developers tagged their properties with the desirable neighborhood name as they ventured into sections of Kensington.

New residents also adopted the moniker, hanging fish placards on homes well north of what would have been considered Fishtown years ago.

What’s at stake is more than what to call a few blocks: A neighborhood name can shape a place’s identity, its perceived desirability, and even how it is marketed and valued.

At the same time, these borders can be informal by design.

“There never really was a Fishtown, government-wise. It was a localism,” explains Kenneth Milano, a Kensington-born historian and cofounder of the Kensington History Project.

The Inquirer’s Michael Klein and Sam Morris investigate Fishtown’s changing boundaries.

A piece of art created by the late Raymond “R.C.” Horsch points to a bizarre connection.

It shows a woman’s body being loaded into an incinerator.

Horsch, who died of a lung condition last year, is at the center of a sweeping investigation into the disappearances of seven women, some of whom were last seen at his home in Olney. So far no remains have been recovered.

Horsch was also an artist and pornographer, capturing women in addiction, sometimes in violent scenarios. Some of those images were staged. But local and federal investigators believe others show evidence of harm.

In a 2014 art exhibition, Horsch played a video of an autopsied body in a crematorium. The Inquirer has uncovered that it was taken in a facility affiliated with the notorious Garzone Funeral Home, which was shut down in 2007 over illegal body parts sales. Police are now investigating that connection.

Read more from The Inquirer’s Ryan W. Briggs, Max Marin, Barbara Laker, and Ellie Rushing.

Enforcing Lower Merion’s ban on gas-powered leaf blowers seemed like it would be a breeze.

But now, the policy is pitting neighbors against each other and straining township resources, reports The Inquirer’s Denali Sagner.

For one weekend in September, Phoenixville will transform into this fictional town from Gilmore Girls.

A) Mayberry

B) Springfield

C) Widow’s Bay

D) Stars Hollow

Think you know? Check your answer.

❄️ Forecasting. With the fall equinox on Tuesday, The Inquirer’s weather reporter Tony Wood turns his attention to predictions about the upcoming winter.

🪡 Profiling. Many small businesses close when owners can’t find a successor, but a tailor shop in Bucks County bucks that trend. A fifth generation is set to take over, writes The Inquirer’s Jess Rohan.

🛷 Checking out. Do you dream of hurtling down an icy track at speeds befitting a local highway? The Inquirer’s Maggie Prosser visited a Malvern business park to see how USA Luge recruits the next generation of sliders.

Hint: Rapper and cohost of the podcast Million Dollaz Worth of Game.

ALIKE GLIDING

Email us if you know the answer. We’ll select a reader at random to shout out here.

Cheers to Mattingly Cohen, who correctly guessed Sunday’s anagram: Michelle Zauner. The Crying in H Mart author and leader of the Philly-born pop band Japanese Breakfast has a new memoir on the way.

It’s time for our weekly ‘only in Philly’ feature, where we elevate stories from our readers. Email us a colorful anecdote about life in Philly for a chance to be featured in the Monday edition of this newsletter.

This “only in Philly” story comes from me! A couple of weeks ago, I was walking near my home in South Philly, when I encountered the following:

Three little girls who must have been 7 or 8 years old stopped me on the street and asked if they could sing me “a carol.”

I said “Sure,” and looked around to see if any parents nearby had put them up to it. I didn’t see anyone.

They launched into a song mostly in unison that I couldn’t quite place until they got to the chorus: “I don’t want to lose your love, toniiiiiight.” They hit that line with gusto and then stopped, the tallest giving a small nod of satisfaction with their performance. Then, they traipsed off into the early evening.

The mid-’80s Outfield hit “Your Love,” about a one-night stand is not my idea of a carol but it was cute nonetheless.

👋 Thanks for spending some of your Monday with The Inquirer.

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