Fright right

GRAPHIC descriptions of the murders of drug-addicted hookers or the effects of yellow fever? A tour guide whose language would be right at home in a Martin Scorsese gangster flick? This certainly isn't your father's historical tour of Philadelphia!

This time of year, folks are looking to get in the Halloween spirit (if you will) through activities that put a good scare into them. Philly has no shortage of ghost tours - nighttime strolls through historic 'hoods with guides who speak of unexplained sightings and other paranormal activity.

Those seeking a more immersive experience head to Eastern State Penitentiary, in Fairmount, home to a high-tech extravaganza with a cast of hundreds creating "Terror Behind the Walls." (See Page 30.)

But Grim Philly Twilight Tour's "Cemetery, Serial Killers; Blood & Beer" stroll through Old City is a corpse of another color. Visually, it is as benign as it gets. There are no (fake) blood-dripping ghouls jumping out of dark corners, because the program takes place outdoors in the afternoon. But unlike other tours that may depend on folklore and rumors, everything presented on this walk is documented fact.

"Cemetery" is mostly about words and theater of the mind - the imagination being far more powerful than tangible evidence when it comes to spooking people.

For 2 1/2 hours, Grim Philly founder Joe Wojie, or one of his tour guides, relates fascinating, usually grisly tales of murder, mayhem and medicine.

The latter focuses on the stomach-churning practices and procedures of famed early-Philadelphia physicians Benjamin Rush and Philip Syng Physick, both of whom are interred (along with Benjamin Franklin) at Christ Church Burial Ground.

These true-life tales are recounted in neither clinical nor sympathetic terms but in darkly humorous - some might say inappropriate - ways.

But that's the whole point of the "Cemetery, Serial Killers" tour - to offer an alternative to the standard spook-'em fare.

Now in its third season, the outing is the brainchild of South Jersey resident Wojie, a 43-year-old Rider University world-history professor who created it because he and his wife weren't satisfied with typical ghost-chasing excursions.

"I put it together to be the kind of tour I always want to take," Wojie explained, before setting out on a guided walk through Old City recently. "We just wanted something that was historically accurate but makes us feel like we've been entertained.

"For a good tour, you want the guide to have good, independent knowledge. I also want a story that can be verified. I like sources."

As the group made its way along the route, Wojie kept up a steady stream of colorful, expletive-filled commentary, sometimes using a portable loudspeaker to make himself heard over traffic along Arch and 2nd streets. (During one recent tour, he had to halt his descriptions of the murders of prostitutes as parents walked by with young children in tow.)

In a gravelly voice and with the breezy delivery and sharp timing of a stand-up comic, Wojie shared tales of the dark side of local history, concentrating on the gruesome sagas of three killers who terrorized the city in the 1980s: Gary Heidnik, Harrison "Marty" Graham (perhaps the most helpless mass murderer in history, according to Wojie's spiel) and the "Frankford Slasher," believed to have killed seven women.

Given that these killers' victims may have surviving family and friends, some might think the tour is exploiting tragedy. Wojie said that he's never had the issue arise. He added that he probably wouldn't change anything, because "I am not the most politically correct tour guide there is."

Wojie also related the saga of H.H. Holmes, a Victorian-era monster whose victims may number in the hundreds and who is generally acknowledged as America's first known serial killer. Holmes did most of his dirty work in Chicago, but he lived here for a spell, too.

The medical portion of the tour, which concludes with a beer at the Mexican Post restaurant, is likewise colorful and a little off-kilter.

At Christ Church Burial Ground, Wojie introduced Bob Spross, a graveyard guide who shared some barbaric treatments designed to combat the yellow-fever epidemic of 1793, which wiped out some 10 percent of the city's population.

Among the tools at doctors' disposal were leeches for bloodletting. At the end of his talk, Spross produced a small plastic container holding a few of the slimy, bloodsucking creatures.