George Washington will haunt your dreams

Washington Square was called Southeast Square in William Penn’s original plan for the City of Philadelphia, but for the first 90 years of it’s existence the Square was better known as “that place we toss dead people no one cares very much about.”  Prior to the Revolution, it was the final resting place of the poor and the anonymous.  During the War, soldiers who died in Philadelphia (generally of disease) were thrown into mass graves here.  When the British occupied Philadelphia, the old Walnut Street Prison (which overlooks the park) became a “Dantesque vision of hell” and those who died at the prison were tossed in the park.  When the Americans retook the city, dead British soldiers were added to the pile.  In short, Washington Square Park is made of dead people.

Mad Anthony is worth a million in prizes

Probably the only Revolutionary War general to suffer metal-plate-in-the-head-induced epilepsy, Anthony Wayne is likely best known for having a ton of things named after him. At least twelve counties, twenty municipalities (including nearby Wayne, PA), one river and one national park are named for “Mad Anthony,” who earned his nickname either from his fiery personality and daring on the battlefield or from the aforementioned metal plate – used to repair a musket hole in his head – which caused him epileptic seizures and ‘foamy-mouth.’ Sources disagree on which.

Commodore Barry knows the way

The “Father of the American Navy,” Commodore John Barry was born in Tacumshane, County Wexford, Ireland, but became an adopted son of Philadelphia and a hero of the American Revolution. Even though he’s also got a bridge here in Philly (connecting the most ambitious traveler to Bridgeport, NJ) and a statue in front (yes, that’s the front) of Independence Hall, very few people know anything about John Barry.

Rocky turns tourists into douchebags

In 1981, when Sylvester Stallone finished Rocky 3, he gave the City of Philadelphia a gift: an eight-foot-tall statue of himself that he didn’t need any more. Christmas at Sly’s house must be a gas.

Francisco de Miranda springs into action!

That swirling cape… those boots… those tall britches! Francisco de Miranda sweeps forward with such zeal, I can only presume he’s been besmirched in some way or another. Sir, he demands satisfaction.