Two weeks later, the car was found parked neatly off an unpaved road near Kelso Dunes, keys inside, tires full of air. The journal was on the passenger seat — still locked. No footprints led away from the car. No ransom note. No body.
In April 1928, Cubbi Thompson Van Wylde drove a rented Pierce-Arrow from Los Angeles to the Mojave, telling her housekeeper she was “going to see what Julian was so scared of.” She brought a .22 caliber revolver, three changes of clothes, and a leather-bound journal with a brass lock.
The lock on the journal was never picked. A 1932 attempt by a San Francisco locksmith failed; he reported “a mechanism unlike any I’ve seen, possibly European or custom-made.” In 1951, the journal was donated to the Huntington Library with a condition: it could not be opened without permission of the “Van Wylde literary estate” — which no one has successfully claimed since Julian died childless in 1944. cubbi thompson van wylde
Then came the Van Wylde part.
Here’s a blog post written in the style of a true-crime / history blog, focusing on the lesser-known figure . Two weeks later, the car was found parked
— M. Forrester, Strange Histories
Cubbi — born Cordelia Beatrice Thompson in 1899 to a Pittsburgh steel fortune — earned her nickname as a toddler when she couldn’t say “Cuddly” and called herself “Cubbi” instead. The name stuck. By eighteen, she had rejected debutante balls, bought a Stutz Bearcat with her own inheritance, and announced she was moving to New York to “write novels and make enemies of boring people.” No ransom note
Since “Cubbi Thompson Van Wylde” doesn’t correspond to a widely known historical figure, I’ve written it as a fictional or mysterious “forgotten character” piece — fitting for a blog that explores oddities, unsolved mysteries, or obscure Americana. The Strange Disappearance of Cubbi Thompson Van Wylde: Heiress, Adventurer, or Ghost?