The Disappearance of Lake Anjikuni Village is one of Canada’s most perplexing mysteries—a tale of an entire Inuit village vanishing without explanation. The story first surfaced in November 1930, when fur trapper Joe LaBelle stumbled upon what appeared to be a ghost town on the remote shores of Lake Anjikuni in the Northwest Territories.

LaBelle was familiar with the area and had visited the village before. He expected to find a bustling community of around 25 people preparing for the harsh Arctic winter. Instead, he found eerie silence. The snow-covered village lay abandoned, with food still hanging on drying racks, clothing neatly arranged inside empty tents, and no signs of a struggle. Even more unsettling were the sled dogs, found frozen to death and still tethered to their posts, as though their owners had vanished without a second thought.

As LaBelle explored further, he made a disturbing discovery. The village’s burial ground had been disturbed. Graves were found empty, with the contents mysteriously missing. Alarmed, LaBelle hurried to the nearest telegraph office and contacted the North-West Mounted Police (NWMP). Officers reportedly visited the site and confirmed his findings: an entire community gone without a trace, leaving behind no footprints, no equipment, and no signs of where they might have gone.

News of the event spread quickly after it was published in a 1931 newspaper article. The NWMP received numerous inquiries about the disappearance but soon issued an official statement denying any knowledge of the incident. This discrepancy cast a shadow of doubt over LaBelle’s claims. If the police had indeed investigated the site, why were they now denying it? And if the report was fabricated, why did LaBelle stick to his story?

Over the decades, theories about the vanished village have proliferated. One theory suggests the community fell victim to forced relocation by the Canadian government, a practice not unheard of during that time. Others speculate that the villagers succumbed to an extreme and sudden blizzard, though this fails to explain the disturbed graves. Some locals whisper about ancient Inuit legends of malevolent spirits, while more modern theorists point to the possibility of extraterrestrial involvement.

Skeptics argue the story is nothing more than a hoax. The 1931 article that popularized the tale contained inaccuracies and exaggerated details. Historians have found no official NWMP records of an investigation, and some suspect LaBelle or the journalist who published the piece fabricated or embellished the account for attention.

Still, others insist that the truth is stranger than fiction. Stories of strange lights in the sky near Lake Anjikuni have circulated for generations. Some witnesses claim to have seen glowing orbs hovering over the area, adding fuel to the theory that something more otherworldly may have been responsible.

Was the disappearance of Lake Anjikuni Village a tragic case of forced relocation, an embellished tale that grew into legend, or evidence of something far beyond human comprehension? And what happened to the bodies from the disturbed graves?

Join us as we investigate the enigma of The Disappearance of Lake Anjikuni Village in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

The Curious Case of Tootsie LaFleche is a tale of deception, brutality, and an unsettling mystery that gripped the city of Regina in the mid-1950s. What began as confusion over a missed holiday gathering unraveled into a gruesome discovery that shocked the community and left investigators baffled for years.

Michael "Mike" Todor was a well-known and respected member of Regina’s Romanian Orthodox community. A 74-year-old retiree, he had invited friends and neighbors to his home for Orthodox Christmas in January 1954. However, when guests arrived at his modest house, they were met not by Todor, but by Tootsie LaFleche—his 36-year-old housekeeper and common-law wife. Tootsie seemed confused by the visitors' arrival, claiming Todor was out of town and hadn't mentioned any holiday plans.

The guests left the residence with a sense of unease, and over the following months, more troubling details emerged. Todor, who was known for his consistency and reliability, stopped attending church services. Neighbors reported a foul smell coming from the house. The police were called to investigate but, after a brief search, found nothing unusual and left the property undisturbed.

Months passed, and the odor grew worse. On April 15, 1955, neighbors once again contacted authorities, urging them to break into the residence. When officers entered the abandoned house, they discovered the source of the stench: behind a padlocked bedroom door lay the mummified remains of Michael Todor. His body was still on the bed, partially covered in blankets, with one arm raised as though warding off an attacker. His skull had been crushed by repeated blows from a blunt object. The floorboards were soaked with dried blood, and the walls were stained from the violent struggle.

Police quickly arrested Tootsie LaFleche and Jacob Dyck, a 45-year-old boarder with a reputation for violent behavior. During interrogation, LaFleche gave conflicting statements about what had transpired. Eventually, she confessed that Dyck had killed Todor after a heated argument about money. According to Tootsie, Todor had stormed off to the bedroom after accusing Dyck of owing him a substantial sum. Dyck followed Todor and began beating him with a heavy object. Tootsie claimed she heard Todor repeatedly ask, "Why?" as Dyck continued the assault.

When Tootsie entered the room, she said Todor was dead—his head bashed in, half his body hanging off the bed. Dyck, covered in blood, allegedly turned to her and said, "Keep quiet, or you're next." Terrified, Tootsie followed Dyck’s instructions to padlock the bedroom door and stuff rags underneath it to contain the smell. They sprayed insecticide to kill the swarms of flies and continued living in the house for months as Todor’s body decomposed just feet away.

The subsequent trial was a legal circus. Tootsie’s testimony changed repeatedly, often contradicting itself. She went from claiming Dyck killed Todor to saying she had no idea what happened. Dyck, meanwhile, maintained his innocence throughout. After four mistrials, the charges against Dyck were dropped due to lack of evidence. Tootsie was convicted of being an accessory to murder and served time in prison before being released. Shortly after her release, she was killed in a car accident under mysterious circumstances.

The case of Michael Todor’s murder remains officially unsolved. Was Tootsie telling the truth about Dyck's involvement, or did she commit the murder herself? Why did the police miss the body during their initial search? And what truly happened in that small Regina home during Orthodox Christmas in 1954?

Join us as we investigate the bizarre and unsettling Curious Case of Tootsie LaFleche in our latest Patreon-exclusive episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

Deep in the misty waters of the Gulf of St. Lawrence lies Anticosti Island, a place of treacherous shipwrecks, ghostly legends, and one of Canada’s most enigmatic figures—Louis-Olivier Gamache, better known as the Sorcerer of Anticosti Island.

Born in 1784 in LeLay, Quebec, Gamache’s life was an odyssey of hardship and adventure. As a boy of eleven, he joined the British Navy, sailing across the world before returning to find his parents dead. With nothing left for him in his hometown, he sought a fresh start, opening a store in Rimouski—only to see it consumed by flames. Misfortune seemed to follow him, but instead of yielding to fate, Gamache carved out an existence on the remote and wild Anticosti Island.

There, he made a home in Baie Ellis, surviving by hunting, fishing, and trading with passing ships. The island’s infamous shipwrecks became an opportunity, as Gamache provided supplies to desperate sailors who washed ashore. But his solitude and resilience soon took on an air of mystery. Was he merely a hardened survivor, or did something more sinister lurk in the shadows of his isolated existence?

Stories of Gamache’s unyielding defense of his home began to spread. He was said to have kept an arsenal of weapons—rifles, pistols, and even bayonets—ready to fend off any who dared intrude. When an armed Innu man once ignored his warning, Gamache shot him in the leg, nursed him back to health, and then sent him away with a grim warning for others: the next man would be shot in the head.

But it wasn’t just his fierce reputation that made Gamache a legend. It was the whispers of the supernatural. According to some, he was not just a man but a sorcerer, capable of calling upon dark forces. One tale tells of his ship, chased by pursuers, vanishing in a fireball—only for the wreckage to never be found. Another speaks of how he could summon the wind at will, leaving other vessels becalmed while his ship sailed on.

Perhaps the most chilling story involves Gamache checking into an inn in Rimouski, ordering two extravagant meals. When the innkeeper inquired about his guest, Gamache coldly replied it was none of her concern. Yet when she later entered his room, she was horrified—both plates had been eaten from, both chairs drawn up to the table. But only Gamache was present. The town soon buzzed with rumors that the Sorcerer of Anticosti had dined with the Devil himself.

Even in death, his legend refused to fade. A trapper named Goudreau discovered Gamache’s lifeless body in 1854 and buried him beside his wife. But some say his spirit lingers, bound to the winds and waves of Anticosti, where the lost souls of shipwrecked sailors still wander.

Who was Louis Gamache? A man hardened by life’s cruelties, a trickster who played upon superstition, or something far more otherworldly? The full story of the Sorcerer of Anticosti Island awaits.

In our thirtieth episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, Christina Koutsi, Dylan Fairman and Kenton de Jong discuss the disappearance and subsequent murders of several men from Toronto's Gay Village during the early 2010s.

The Toronto Police Service were unequipped to handle these murders and were unfamiliar with the LGBTQA+ community they were taking part in. All signs pointed to a man named Bruce McArthur, but McArthur was a senior citizen, who landscaped for a living and volunteered as Santa Claus in the malls.

However, as the investigation continued, more of McArthur's life became known to the authorities. From a tough childhood, a messy divorce, bankruptcy, a troubled son, and more than one report of him being violent or aggressive, the police began to wonder if McArthur was involved, and if so, what happened to these missing men. As more and more men went missing, the search continued and the answer seemed further and further from the norm.

Come learn about a Canadian serial killer like no other!

The Mystery of Charles Coughlin's Coffin is a tale of life, death, and a posthumous journey that has baffled historians for over a century. Charles Coughlin, a British actor with a flair for the dramatic, lived a life filled with adventure, scandal, and uncertainty. But it is not his performances on stage that made him famous—it’s the mystery of what happened to his coffin after his death.

Coughlin was a well-known performer in the late 19th century, traveling across North America and Europe for his craft. His life off-stage was equally eventful, marked by tumultuous marriages, financial ups and downs, and a fondness for seaside retreats. He particularly loved his summer home in Prince Edward Island, a place he once described as his "peace away from the world."

In 1899, Coughlin traveled to Galveston, Texas, to perform in The Royal Box. While there, he fell seriously ill. After a month of suffering, he passed away, far from the ocean breeze he cherished so much. His family, unsure of where to bury him, placed his body in a temporary crypt in Galveston while they debated their options. Some wanted him buried in New York, where his career flourished. Others believed he should rest in PEI, where he had found happiness.

But before a decision could be made, nature intervened. In September 1900, Galveston was struck by one of the deadliest hurricanes in U.S. history. The storm surge obliterated the city, killing thousands and leaving the landscape unrecognizable. Cemeteries were not spared. Coughlin’s mausoleum was torn apart, and his coffin was swept into the Gulf of Mexico, disappearing into the sea.

For years, Coughlin’s family mourned his loss—twice over. His body, they assumed, was gone forever. Yet the story did not end there. Legend has it that years later, a coffin matching Coughlin’s description washed ashore in Prince Edward Island, thousands of kilometers from where it had been lost. Locals claimed the nameplate, though corroded, still bore his name.

Was it mere coincidence, or was it something more? The waters of the Atlantic, driven by currents and time, had seemingly carried Coughlin back to the place he loved most. Skeptics dismiss the story as a maritime myth, but locals stand by their claim.

Did Charles Coughlin’s coffin truly make the long journey across the Atlantic to rest at his beloved summer home? Or is this tale nothing more than a ghostly legend, carried along with the ocean’s whispers?

Join us as we unravel the mystery of The Mystery of Charles Coughlin's Coffin in our latest episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, available now on Spotify and YouTube.

In our twenty-eighth episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, Kenton de Jong, Dylan Fairman and Christina Koutsi venture to the First Wolseley Cemetery.

The cemetery is said to contain the graves of many early Wolseley settlers, men and women, who struggled against all odds to make the town of Wolseley possible. However, most of the wooden graves were lost to a fire in 1905, and the cemetery needed to be abandoned. The town of Wolseley began using a new cemetery instead, and this one was supposedly forgotten. This has created many stories of the cemetery being haunted by intelligent spirits, sounds of growling from the shadows, and a creepy feeling.

However, when we visited the cemetery, we found it very maintained and in good condition. Many graves were missing, but the cemetery didn't have an uncomfortable vibe. It was a very well taken cared for and respected cemetery.

Many interesting discoveries were made, but nothing paranormal was recorded... or was there?
Come watch our second-ever on-location paranormal investigation into the First Wolseley Cemetery!

In our twenty-seventh episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, Kenton de Jong and Dylan Fairman discuss the 1903 and follow-up 1907 sightings of a strange creature near Partridge River in the Yukon.

The 1903 sighting was by Georges Dupuy, James Lewis Buttler, Tom Leemore, Father Pierre Lavagneux, and five First Nations individuals. The 1907 sighting was by Father Pierre Lavagneux and ten First Nations individuals.

Both describe a large creature, approximately 30 feet long, with feet five feet long, and claws a foot long. It was 12 feet wide, with a 10 foot long tail. It also had a small, square horn on its nose and the face of a dog.

It was believed that the beast they encountered was a dinosaur, most likely a Ceratosaurus or at least another kind of theropod.

The idea of a dinosaur living in the Yukon is absurd, but with additional sightings in 1928 in Siberia, as well as 1999 in Fairbanks, Alaska, you can't help but wonder, what is the monster of Partridge Creek? Listen to the podcast and find out!

In our twenty-sixth episode of Unsolved Canadian Mysteries, Kenton de Jong and Dylan Fairman discuss Jerome, the legless, mysterious man who appeared on the shores of Sandy Cove, Nova Scotia in 1863.

Eight-year-old George Albright was the first to discover Jerome, and once realizing what this lump on the beach was, he immediately went for help. Once brought to the Albright residence, the family tried to figure out where he was from, and who he was, only to learn he did not speak English, French, Italian, Spanish or Latin.

For several years Jerome was taken care for by the people of Digby, Nova Scotia, but eventually, they sent him to Megeghan, Nova Scotia, a primarily Catholic community because they determined Jerome was Catholic too.

It was here that Jerome would be put on display to an audience, a roadside attraction, and became famous for being a legless wonder.

But who was Jerome? Where did he come from? And where did his legs go? Listen to the podcast and find out!