Two Pennsylvania sisters returned a book their mom had borrowed from a library about 68 years ago. The library is considering putting "The Adventure of the Seven Keyholes" on display as part of its history.

A woman was found shot to dead in a Philadelphia home Tuesday morning.

Crime scene investigators could be seen going in and out of a home along Catharine Street near S 16th Street in the Graduate Hospital neighborhood.

Officers found a 26-year-old woman with a gunshot wound to the head inside the home. She was pronounced dead at the scene about 15 minutes later around 9:30 a.m. 

No arrests have been made and a weapon has not been recovered. Police continue to investigate.

A woman who shot and killed a perceived romantic rival inside a Bucks County church died in prison Monday as the search for her missing father continues.

Mary Jane Fonder, 75, died of cardiac arrest in the prison infirmary at the State Correctional Institution at Muncy.

Fonder had been incarcerated at Muncy since December of 2008 after being sentenced to life in prison for the murder of Rhonda Smith, 42.

Fonder fell in love with her pastor at Trinity Evangelical Lutheran Church in Springfield Township, Pennsylvania. When the pastor didn’t show any interest in her, Fonder viewed Smith as a romantic rival. On Jan. 23, 2008 Fonder shot and killed Smith as she sat at a desk inside a church office. 

After killing Smith, Fonder drove to a hair appointment and tossed the murder weapon off an overpass into Lake Nockamixon.

Fonder was convicted of first-degree murder on Oct. 30, 2008 but initially denied she killed Smith.

“I’m sorry, so very sorry this poor woman was murdered,” Fonder said. “But in the name of God...I did not kill Rhonda Smith.”

Fonder later admitted to killing Smith, telling reporters that she didn’t remember shooting her while acknowledging she had to have been the killer.
Along with Smith’s death, Fonder was also a suspect in the disappearance of her father, Edward Fonder III.

In July of 1993, Edward Fonder III, who was 83 at the time, vanished from his home on Winding Road in Springfield Township where he and Mary Jane Fonder lived together. He’s been missing since then and Mary Jane Fonder remained the only suspect in his disappearance at the time of her death. 

During the investigation, Mary Jane Fonder refused to allow police to search the property on Winding Road. After she was convicted and sentenced, her brother also did not allow investigators to search the home. 

Once the property was sold, a neighbor gave investigators access to the house, which is now demolished, and the surrounding land. Detectives were unable to find anything however.

Despite Mary Jane Fonder’s death, officials say they will continue to search for her father.

“The search will continue because the District Attorney’s Office is still concerned about returning the remains to the family for closure and a proper burial,” Bucks County District Attorney Matthew Weintraub said.

Mary Jane Fonder was the oldest woman ever convicted of murder in Bucks County. Her attorney once described her as “the aunt you don’t want to sit next to at Thanksgiving.”

Several people were hurt after two SEPTA trains made “minor contact” with each other, according to officials.

The accident, which involved two SEPTA regional rail trains, occurred at the Temple University Station on the 900 block of W. Berks Street at 4:12 p.m.

Officials say at least three people suffered minor injuries. Multiple rail lines are experiencing delays as a result.

This story is developing. Check back for updates.

Three seasonal police officers in the New Jersey shore town of Wildwood will not face criminal charges for the violent arrest of a young mother on the beach, the Cape May County prosecutor's office concluded following a preliminary investigation.

The officers, who have been on administrative duty since the Memorial Day weekend takedown and arrest of Emily Weinman feet from her 18-month-old child, have been on administrative duty. The officers involved in Weinman's arrest have been identified as Thomas Cannon, John Hillman and Robert Jordan.

A shocking video of the confrontation May 26 between the Philadelphia woman and the officers, who initially questioned Weinman about unopened alcoholic beverages, included footage of one cop punching her in the face twice.

Weinman, 20, was already on the ground when the punches were thrown.

"As County Prosecutor, I recognize that the video footage has raised a lot of questions regarding the officers' actions," Cape May Prosecutor Jeffrey Sutherland said in a statement Tuesday. "A decision such as this is not based on emotion; it is based upon applying the proper laws, policies and directives that govern law enforcement."

Weinman's attorney has questioned why the officers continued to harangue the woman after she agreed to use a breathalyzer when asked by the officers and could be heard saying she had not drank any alcohol. She then refuses to give the cops her name.

On body camera video released by the police department, Weinman can be seen walking away from the officers, who pursue her on the beach. Moments later, a physical confrontation occurs.

"It's an overreaction and an excessive use of force," attorney Stephen Dicht said a couple days after the arrest. "If you refuse to give your name, then does that give them the right to pound you in the head?"

A leading civil rights attorney in Philadelphia, Paul Messing, previously told NBC10 that police officers are trained to avoid punching suspects in the face unless deadly force is necessary.

"The head punch, they're told not to do this. It's generally accepted police practice from the police academy on and one would hope that seasonal officers would be given the same level of training," he added.

The incident has raised questions about the reliance on part-time police officers in dozens of Jersey beach towns during the busy summer months.

Class II "special law enforcement officers," or SLEOs, work 40 to 48 hour work weeks, but make a fraction of their full-time colleagues. That's despite having the same responsibilities: They carry a firearm, make arrests and can operate departmental equipment.

Pay varies by town, but in Wildwood, SLEOs make $10 an hour. While training at the Cape May County police academy, they earn $7.50 an hour — less than the minimum wage of $8.60 in New Jersey.

But the dozens of Class II "special law enforcement officers," or SLEOs, who have walked the Wildwood beach over the years, do it for much less money: $10 an hour, actually.

Sutherland said the Wildwood police department's internal affairs unit continues to investigate the confrontation for potential administrative punishment. His office is monitoring that investigation, according to his statement.

Members of the public should understand that no matter what your opinion is regarding the subject event, it is not based on a full review of the evidence," Sutherland said. "Ms. Weinman and her attorney are entitled to due process and they have not yet received the information that they will be entitled to as part of the legal process."

Weinman faces aggravated assault of a police officer, resisting arrest, minor possession of alcohol and related charges.

Hundreds of SLEOs go through New Jersey police academies every year. The Police Training Commission, which oversees county academies, certifies roughly 500 Class II and 250 Class I SLEOs each year, according to the New Jersey Attorney General's office.

Class II SLEOs have broader authority than Class I. Class II officers carry firearms, make arrests and operate police equipment. Class I officers often act as crossing guards, parking enforcement and special event duties.

"Both of these categories of SLEO are required to attend and successfully complete basic training," AG spokesman Peter Aseltine said in an email. "The basic course for SLEO I is only a few weeks in duration. The basic course for SLEO II is very similar to the basic course for police officers."

The exact number of SLEOs patrolling Wildwood remains unknown. The police chief said June 1 he did not know the exact number of Class I and Class II officers on the books currently. Other city officials have not returned messages left or declined to comment.

The AG's office could only give the number of SLEOs that the department has sent to train at the police academy: Seven Class II and six Class I officers enrolled and completed training this year. Another 16 recruits for Wildwood are actively enrolled in training, Aseltine said.

In nearby North Wildwood, the police department hired 35 Class II and 15 Class I SLEOs to bolster their 29-officer full-time force, according to a Philly.com report.

North Wildwood pays its seasonal officers $13 an hour. In Stone Harbor, Class II officers make $15 an hour.

SLEOs can work up to 48 hours a week in Jersey shore communities. In other municipalities across the state, they can only work 20 hours a week.

Thousands of Philadelphia homeowners received received news that could potentially force them to sell their homes.

A mother and son were arrested and charged with trafficking fentanyl, heroin, cocaine and marijuana.

Candace Gottlieb, 59, of Cherry Hill, New Jersey and Tyler Gottlieb, 27, were both arrested Friday. Their arrests followed a federal investigation into the trafficking of counterfeit prescription opioid pills containing fentanyl and heroin, as well as cocaine and marijuana.

In March of 2018, federal officers seized $67,760 from Tyler Gottlieb as he was about to board a flight to California from Philadelphia International Airport, officials said.

The FBI later obtained 802 counterfeit prescription pills, at least 200 of which contained fentanyl and heroin, from Tyler and Candace Gottlieb during the ensuing months, according to investigators.

Officials also say the FBI bought cocaine in a transaction orchestrated by Tyler Gottlieb, seized about 40 pounds of marijuana sent by Tyler Gottlieb to New Jersey through the mail and obtained samples of cocaine and marijuana from Candace Gottlieb.

Investigators say they executed a search warrant of Gottlieb’s New Jersey home Friday and seized about 6,600 additional counterfeit prescription pills they suspect contained fentanyl and heroin as well as cocaine and marijuana packaged for distribution.

They also found and seized two handguns from inside the home and around $2,000 in cash, according to officials.

On Saturday morning investigators executed a second search warrant of another home connected to Tyler Gottlieb and seized an AK-47 assault rifle, a shotgun, 1,000 rounds of ammunition, high-capacity ammunition magazines, two handguns, marijuana and packaging materials, officials said.

Tyler Gottlieb was arrested in California where he is awaiting a federal court appearance.

Candace Gottlieb is a well-known diving coach affiliated with USA diving.

"USA Diving is aware of the circumstances surrounding Candace Gottlieb and has suspended her USA Diving membership," a spokesperson wrote.

A neighbor also told NBC10 Candace Gottlieb had another son who died of a drug overdose last year.

Incumbent U.S. Sen. Bob Menendez and first-time politician Bob Hugin will face off in November after both won their primaries Tuesday.

Bob Hugin defeated construction company executive Brian Goldberg. Hugin ran Celgene Corp. until this year and is a first-time candidate spending millions of dollars of his own fortune to finance his race.

He'll need to overcome a nearly 900,000-vote advantage that the Democratic Party holds over Republicans statewide.

Menendez is seeking a third six-year term. He beat out business owner Lisa McCormick in the primary.

In the races for New Jersey's 12 congressional districts, Democrats see a golden opportunity this year to grab two congressional seats long held by centrist Republicans. Both are retiring.

Frank LoBiondo of South Jersey's sprawling 2nd district and Rodney Freylinghuysen of North Jersey's 11th district previously announced they would not seek re-election.

State Sen. Jeff Van Drew won the Democratic primary in the 2nd district. He will face off against one of four Republicans in what will be a closely-watched race nationally. The 2nd district stretches from the southern Jersey shore to the Delaware River.

Click here for the continuously updated voting results in key contests throughout the evening.

New Jersey is one of eight states that held primaries Tuesday.

One of the state's two New Jersey senators is also up for re-election, and his lot is a decidely mixed one. Incumbent Bob Menendez is still recovering from recent legal troubles (he was found not guilty at a federal corruption trial). 

Hugin's entrance into the race buoyed Republicans, who've been on a downswing in statewide politics since Democratic Gov. Phil Murphy won last year.

The 2018 mid-term election will largely be a referendum on President Trump's first two years in the White House, and how the Republican-controlled Congress has worked with him. Even in one of the country's bluest states like New Jersey, Democrats hope to gain ground on their Republican rivals. 

Nationally, Democrats need to wrestle 24 seats back from Republicans if they want to take back control of the chamber, and operatives have their sights firmly set on those two open seats in the Garden State.

Democrats hold a 2.1 million to 1.2 million registered voter advantage over Republicans. But most of the nearly 900,000 more Democrats are grouped into six very blue districts: the 1st, 6th, 8th, 9th, 10th and 12th.

These things are usually easier said than done: Despite the overwhelming edge in the ratio of registered Democrats to Republicans, five of the state's 12 congressional districts are held by Republicans.

Democrats hold a 2.1 million to 1.2 million registered voter advantage over Republicans. But most of the nearly 900,000 more Democrats are grouped into six very blue districts: the 1st, 6th, 8th, 9th, 10th and 12th.

The other six districts are near toss ups.

However, another 2.4 million voters either unaffiliated or registered with smaller political parties will have their chance to cast ballots in November.

U.S. Rep. Donald Norcross, who has represented the 1st district for two terms, won the Democratic primary.

Hugin, a native of Hudson County, graduated from Princeton University before entering the Marine Corps in 1976. He served for eight years. After earning a master’s degree in business from Virginia University, he went to work at J.P. Morgan. Over the years, he rose to managing director.

In 1999, he took over as chairman and CEO of a large pharmaceutical company called Celgene, based in Summit. 

Hugin retired this year and is a first-time candidate He says he's running as an independent Republican in a state with roughly 900,000 more Democrats than Republicans.

Hugin has loaned his campaign at least $7.5 million and has pledged to restore dignity to the state. That's a ding at Democratic U.S. Sen. Bob Menendez, who defeated federal corruption charges after a hung jury last year and wants a third term.

In other races, Joshua Welle won the Democratic primary in the 4th congressional district, where he'll face off against 19-term Republican Chris Smith.

Fashion icon Kate Spade is remembered by her fans and family. Spade was found dead in New York City Tuesday. She was 55.

CORRECTION: A previous version of this story misstated Amanda Richardson's employment status.

A Philadelphia teacher is no longer in the classroom after she allegedly took bribes from students in exchange for better grades.

NBC10 first received a tip that Amanda Richardson, a humanities teacher at the LINC High School on W. Erie Ave., was accused of accepting bribes from her students and giving them good grades in return. A spokesperson for the Philadelphia School District confirmed with NBC10 they were investigating the allegations.

“We are aware of the situation and once it was brought to our attention, we acted immediately,” the spokesperson wrote. “The teacher was promptly removed from the school and both the Inspector General and Philadelphia Police have been notified. The School District of Philadelphia is fully cooperating with the investigation."

The school district did not specify exactly what the alleged bribes were. They continue to investigate.

Richardson declined to comment on the allegations until it could be cleared with her union. The union and Richardson's former principal didn't immediately respond to NBC10's request for comment.

Two Customs and Border Protection officers have been indicted and another pleaded guilty in connection with allegations of extreme, sexually abusive hazing of colleagues at Newark Airport exposed in a bombshell I-Team investigation last year. 

Parmenio Perez, 40, of Hawthorne, New Jersey; and Michael Papagni, 32, of Staten Island, were indicted on charges of forcibly assaulting, impeding, intimidating and interfering with two male customs officers while they were on duty. They are scheduled to be arraigned at a later date. 

Tito Catota, 38, of Lyndhurst, New Jersey, pleaded guilty Monday to those same charges, New Jersey's U.S. Attorney Craig Carpenito said Tuesday. 

All three men had initially been arrested in September. The names of their attorneys were not immediately available. 

A spokesman for Customs and Border Patrol told News 4 in a statement at the time of their arrests that it "fully supported" the investigation by the Inspector General. 

"We do not tolerate misconduct in our ranks and are committed to a safe workplace environment free of harassment or intimidation," said spokesman Anthony Bucci, adding that CBP authorities took "administrative and management actions to correct the situation." 

He added, "The overwhelming majority of CBP employees, and our men and women in uniform at the port of Newark, perform their duties with honor and distinction, working tirelessly every day to keep our country safe." 

According to the criminal complaint News 4 obtained in September, all three officers were assigned to the agency's Passenger Enforcement Rover Team (PERT), an elite passenger screening team at Newark that was disbanded in May 2017, two days after the exclusive I-Team report. 

The removal of the team wasn't revealed until July 2017, though, when acting CBP Commissioner Kevin McAleenan disclosed in a letter to U.S. Rep. Bonnie Watson Coleman (D-NJ), who had sought action in the case, that 11 officers had been suspended pending the outcome of a federal investigation. 

The two male victims referred to in the criminal complaint are not named, though three came forward publicly to the I-Team months ago with allegations matching the behavior described in the federal court documents. 

According to the complaint, one victim was assigned to PERT in October 2016. Within his first two weeks on the job, Papagni allegedly told him that the PERT office table in the team's second-floor officer at Terminal C was known as the "rape table," and threatened that the victim would have to get on it. 

Months later, the victim was asked to forward a document related to the prior drug seizure. While the victim and another individual were scanning it, Papagni allegedly warned the victim he had five minutes to get out of the office or Papagni would teach him "what this team is about." Moments later, another individual with customs shut off the lights in the PERT office. Papagni, Catota and another person held the victim down, according to the complaint. 

While they did so, Perez allegedly got on top of the victim and grinded against his genitals through his clothing in a motion simulating a sex act, the complaint says. The victim tried to push him off but could not. Eventually, Perez got up and the three people holding down the victim let him go, the complaint says. 

The second victim was also forced onto the purported "rape table;" in his case, it was in November 2016, the complaint says. He allegedly saw one officer lock one of the doors to the office and tried to leave, but was grabbed by Catota, Papagni and Perez and thrown onto the table, the complaint alleges. While two of the defendants held him down, the other got on top of him and grinded against his leg, again simulating a sex act, the complaint alleges. The victim struggled to break free until the suspects eventually released him. 

The indictments come almost exactly a year to the day the I-Team exposed the hazing allegations in an exclusive report. The hazed officers told the I-Team the abuse happened for years in that secure room in Terminal C. Though no victims are identified in the criminal complaint, officers came forward to the I-Team with allegations similar, if not exactly akin, to what prosecutors allege. 

"Once the lights go out, they grab you up like a gang, and they forcibly throw you on the table and one officer ended up mounting me and pretty much riding me like a horse," CBP officer Vito Degironimo said, describing it as sexual attack. "I’m grabbed by other officers against my will. I don’t know how much more criminal you can get." 

"Hazing wouldn’t do this justice. This is complete assault. They take you in a room and your fellow officers are all watching as officers grab you," he said. 

CBP officer Diana Cifuentes, who also said she suffered abuse at the hands of fellow officers, said, "I’m afraid for my life, my safety." 

In June 2017, a fourth officer who was not assigned to PERT and did not want to be named, told the I-Team he’d been taped to a chair by fellow officers and feared suffocation when a plastic bag was placed over his head. 

The DHS Office of Inspector General launched an investigation in late January after CBP headquarters became aware of the alleged misconduct at Newark Airport. All of the officers who spoke with the I-Team have been interviewed by the DHS Office of Inspector General and all requested transfers out of Newark. 

McAleenan said in his July 2017 letter to Waterson Coleman that managers and enforcement team trainers from JFK Airport had been assigned to Newark “to review and assess operations, provide training, and assist with the organization of Newark’s Enforcement Team." 

Federal prosecutors had said they were appalled by the allegations.

Ten beaches along the Jersey Shore have tested above allowed sanitation levels for bacteria tied to human and animal intestines and feces.

One of the beaches, which is not yet open, had more than six times the acceptable level of Enterococci, a type of bacteria found in animal and human waste.

Five beaches are under advisory following these results and five other beaches tested above safe levels but are not yet open for the season, according to the New Jersey Department of Environmental Protection.

State sanitary code states that bacteria concentration cannot exceed 104 colony-forming units (cfu) of enterococci per 100 milliliters of water.

Affected beaches under advisory include:

• Monmouth Beach, Pavilion Beach, 160 cfu, advisory
• Somers Point, New Jersey Avenue, 105 cfu, advisory
• North Wildwood, 2nd and JFK, 120 cfu, advisory
• North Wildwood, 10th and JFK, 116 cfu, advisory
• Wildwood, Montgomery Avenue, 110 cfu, advisory

Affected beaches not open yet include:

• Middletown, Thompson Avenue, 160 cfu, not open
• Highlands, Community Center Beach, 670 cfu, not open
• Ocean Gate, Wildwood Avenue, 300 cfu, not open
• Ocean Gate, Angelsea Avenue, 300 cfu, not open
• Upper Township, Beesley’s Point, 120 cu, not open

County officials test water weekly at 180 ocean and 35 bay stations near all life-guarded beaches in New Jersey.

Rain often spreads the bacteria into the ocean water from sewers. 

More tests were conducted Tuesday and the results will be released Wednesday. If a beach fails again, it will be closed until the bacteria levels lower.

Check back at NBC 4 New York for the latest readings and closures.

Bassem Youssef, a heart surgeon from Egypt who became a political satirist, joins NBC10’s Rosemary Connors to talk about his journey and his show Wednesday night at the Kimmel Center. It's part of the Philadelphia International Festival of the Arts (PIFA).

Coloring giant Crayola is introducing a makeup line of products modeled after its crayon packages and colors. Crayola Beauty includes highlighters, eye shadow and lip gloss packaged like crayons.

"I fell screaming. It changed everything."

Kelly Bowie was 22 when her father killed himself. The week before, he had stormed out of the house with a gun and disappeared to his favorite bar. She chased after him assuming the worst. He shooed her away. He told her everything would be fine.

Walter Rodgers went by the nicknames Wally or Gator. He was the quintessential tough guy — drank heavily, experimented with drugs and occasionally rode a motorcycle. He delighted in joking with friends that he always carried a picture of his "pride and joy," not a photo of his family but the dish detergent.

Nevertheless, Bowie convinced herself she was daddy’s little girl. That changed after Rodgers killed himself.

"How could he do that to us? He knows what it’s like to be left behind. He went through it," she said.

Bowie never thought her father would die by suicide. He was orphaned at 17 when his own father killed himself, just one year after his mom died from cancer. That Rodgers would follow in his dad’s footsteps hadn’t occurred to Bowie despite years of warning signs.

More than one million people attempt suicide every year — just shy of Philadelphia’s total population. In 2015 alone, 44,193 people took their lives, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention.

In Pennsylvania, nearly three times as many people die by suicide every year as by homicide.

That number is only going up and experts don’t know why.

"In the past 25 years we have seen an increase in suicide rates that is very hard to explain," said Dr. Maria Oquendo, president of the American Psychiatric Association and chair of psychiatry at the University of Pennsylvania’s Perelman School of Medicine.

One of the leading authorities on suicide, she believes a deep examination of the topic is overdue.

"Really, we need to understand what leads people to behave in this way."

More than 20 years after her father's death, Bowie wonders what drove him to suicide. Anger and confusion over his death led to years of depression and, perhaps ironically, thoughts of killing herself. With a family history of mental illness, Bowie spiraled downward.

"Driving off the road seemed like the next logical step," she said.

Like her father, Bowie struggles with depression. Therapy has helped her make amends with his memory but she still marvels that one day soon she will be older than he was when he died. An ankle tattoo both memorializes him and serves as a reminder of what not to do.

Perhaps her biggest disappointment, however, is that Rodgers could not walk Bowie down the aisle on her wedding day. Instead, she attached a small photo of him to her bouquet and threaded his wedding band onto an ankle bracelet. She keeps these and other heirlooms hanging in her kitchen.

In 1988, crisis intervention expert Dr. Earl A. Grollman described suicide as "a whispered word, inappropriate for polite company."

"Suicide is a taboo subject that stigmatizes not only the victim, but the survivors as well," Grollman wrote in his seminal work, Suicide: Prevention, Intervention, Postvention.

The notion was not new or even groundbreaking at the time. Suicide had largely been considered a private matter to be handled quietly by loved ones behind closed doors. Survivors say the silence is deafening and alienating. Experts say the stigma does nothing to save lives.

HISTORY OF SUICIDE

Recorded instances of suicide date back to antiquity. Perhaps the most famous case was that of Athenian philosopher Socrates. He was found guilty of corrupting young people with his impious attitudes towards gods of the time. Socrates was given a choice: renounce his heretical beliefs or drink a deadly dose of hemlock. He chose the latter.

When Socrates was alive, scholars considered suicide a symptom of mania or melancholia, two conditions traced to a "malfunction" in the human body. Women, children and the senile were most at risk, the ancients believed. They treated depression with mandrake root, a toxic member of the nightshade family that induces sleep when ingested in small quantities.

Suicide was largely seen as cowardly, except in the cases of soldiers or leaders who had fallen out of grace. In those instances, killing oneself with a sword was considered an honorable alternative to living life in chains or in disgrace.

Religion has largely shaped how Americans regard suicide. Honor does not weigh into the equation, but sin does. The Judeo-Christian tradition condemned the act throughout much of history, teaching that only God can give and take life. Catholics who die by suicide cannot receive absolution. In the Jewish tradition, someone who died at their own hands could not be buried in a Jewish cemetery. Both major religions have somewhat softened on the issue. According to the Catholic Digest, "pity, not condemnation, is the view" of that particular religion.

Still, stigma persists. Society views depression as an emotional malfunction rather than a psychiatric disorder. We continue to say someone "committed" suicide as if an actual crime had occurred, something advocates want changed.

This misconception remains pervasive and helps to explain why the nation’s first suicide prevention center didn’t open in the United States until 1958. Three years later, the United Kingdom decriminalized so-called "self murder." Yet many states on this side of the pond continued to penalize families of people who killed themselves by seizing assets. This practice occurred not only in the United States, but throughout Europe, as well.

Untangling the legality of suicide is tricky. Few states have overt language deeming suicide legal or illegal. Pennsylvania, for instance, only addresses suicide in the case of involuntary emergency examination and treatment for minors. According to state law, people between the ages of 14 and 17 can be forced into treatment if they have threatened suicide or left a suicide note. Pennsylvania law does not mention adult suicide, however. Neither does Delaware nor New Jersey.

While no federal law prohibits suicide, six jurisdictions — D.C., California, Colorado, Oregon, Vermont and Washington — have decriminalized physician-assisted suicide. For many people, death with dignity is easier to comprehend. The idea of dying honorably and maintaining one’s self-respect dates back to antiquity. But to die as a result of perceived weakness is seen as a failure.

The judgemental way society talks about suicide has contributed to a chilling silence among people affected by it. Rather than seek help, many remain quiet.

"There are millions of people right now who are wishing they were dead," said Susan Stefan, a legal expert of disability law and author of Rational Suicide, Irrational Laws.

"In our society, they are not allowed to talk about it even though talking about it might be the most helpful thing they could do."

One of the most prevalent myths is the contagion theory — that talking about suicide can lead to someone attempting suicide. Experts say the opposite can be true when the topic is handled carefully. They recommend not lingering on the method, something many in the behavioral health community lament about the Netflix show 13 Reasons Why. Several episodes carry graphic content prompting show producers to include trigger warnings before the most difficult-to-watch scenes. But in a world of binge-watching, some say the show isn’t going far enough to protect viewers.

Suicide was again thrust into popular culture when musician Chris Cornell killed himself in May. Sordid details of his drug use and final moments became Internet fodder for weeks following his death. But instead of using his suicide as a catalyst to discuss mental health, Cornell's struggle was turned into a circus.

That circus is not unique to celebrities. Hospitals and first responders sometimes add to the stress and chaos of a suicide attempt. In her book, Stefan argues that hospitalization can act as a deterrent to suicidal people getting the help they need. In one scenario, a person thinking about dying might remain quiet for fear of being committed to a hospital or institution. In the reverse scenario, medical professionals might hesitate to treat a suicidal person for fear of being sued if something goes wrong. Either way, the patient loses.

When photographer Dese’Rae Stage attempted to kill herself, a small army of first responders descended on her house. The all-male contingent wouldn’t allow her to change in private or put on a bra. At the hospital, she sat in the corner for hours before being evaluated.

"I felt like a dunce," she said.

Rather than seek help there, Stage checked herself out of the hospital. The humiliation was too great. She was told to contact the hospital in two days but was given an improbable phone number: (000) 000-0000.

Countless similar tales of impatience and disregard have prompted some mental health officials to reconsider the industry’s approach towards suicide.

"Suicide, like drunken driving, is a public health problem," said David Miller, former president of the American Association of Suicidology. "In order to reduce it, we need to address it."

Because suicide was perceived as a crime for generations, punitive measures were frequently taken against those who attempted. Forced hospitalizations were common prior to the 1980s. A patient could be institutionalized for anything ranging from dissociative identity disorder — previously called multiple personality disorder — to drug addiction. It was a convenient, if not entirely humane, way to stash away difficult patients with disorders doctors didn’t fully understand.

After former President Ronald Reagan took office, jails and prisons replaced hospitals and institutions for these patients. Federal funding for mental health care decreased by 30 percent in 1981 when the Budget Reconciliation Act repealed former President Jimmy Carter’s community health legislation. That number dipped by another 11 percent in 1985. People who could not afford to pay for extended or private treatment flooded the streets and the subsequent homeless crisis continues to plague many urban centers to this day.

Fast forward to the Great Recession of 2008 when states again cut $4.35 billion from public mental health program spending. The number of hospital beds reserved for people with mental disorders plummeted by nearly 97 percent from 1955 to 2016, according to the Treatment Advocacy Center. Philadelphia is one of few American cities that maintains enough hospital beds for people with mental health needs.

The pendulum is slowly swinging in a different direction as more experts take a public health approach, which includes screening patients and spreading awareness. Rather than associating suicide with a specific event — the loss of a job or relationship, for instance — medical professionals are looking at the bigger picture. This could include a family history of depression, substance abuse, bullying and undiagnosed mental health conditions.

"Suicide almost never happens without some kind of psychiatric condition," Oquendo said, adding that a recent spike in suicide rates could be related to an increase in diagnosing mental disorders.

Today in the U.S. one in four people suffer from mental illness with depression expected to be the leading disorder by 2030, according to Oquendo. Still, suicidal people are frequently judged as weak or sensitive, as though they can’t tell the difference between a bad day and a bad life.

Dr. Tami Benton, psychiatrist-in-chief at the Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia, estimates that at least 50 percent of people who die by suicide have an undiagnosed mental health disorder. Oquendo puts that number closer to 90 percent. The disparity comes from differing assesssments of underreported suicides: some families don’t want to admit how their loved one died while others simply never knew their loved one had a mental disorder.

Bowie’s dad, for instance, was never treated for depression, yet years of drinking and a family history of suicide put him at high risk. While there is no genetic marker associated with suicide, underlying mental health disorders can be passed down through generations and, in extreme cases, lead to suicide. This is why breaking the silence is so important.

"Just like you tell your kids that breast cancer runs in the family, if suicide runs in the family, we have to talk about it," said Oquendo, who is researching the genetic link between suicide and behavioral health.

Suicide in High School...or Earlier

Suicide is the second-leading cause of death for people between the ages of 10 and 34, according to the CDC. When adolescents attempt suicide the likelihood they will attempt it again later in life increases exponentially, according to Benton.

Experts point to heightened pressure at school and ruthless cyberbullying as possible reasons why a teen would consider ending their life. Because abstract thinking and long-term coping skills develop as they mature, young people "catastrophize those things and become more anxious," Benton said.

"At times, 11-year-olds and 12-year-olds say … 'If I don’t get straight A’s in seventh grade, I’m not going to get into AP courses in ninth grade … and I’m not going to get into a good college. If I don’t get into a good college, I’m going to be homeless,'" she said.

Even those external pressures don’t entirely explain why someone like Kiersten Killian, now 15, would have made her first suicide attempt when she was just 9 years old.

These days, the Lancaster County teen is a dedicated big sister and high school cheerleader. But at around 8 years old she started to kick doors closed and rip up notes. She said mean things to her mom. One Christmas Eve, Killian lunged for a kitchen knife.

"It’s hard to comprehend that a child would even know what suicide is," her mother, Ashley McDonnell, said. "I struggled immensely with that — not knowing how to help her, not knowing what to do because when I contacted a doctor or a hospital they told me that basically I was crazy."

Medical professionals blamed Killian’s hormones and McDonnell’s divorce. Stuck, McDonnell enrolled her daughter in 12 hours of weekly therapy. It seemed to help at first, but Killian’s depression was never far behind. On several occasions she opened the door to her mother’s moving car in an attempt to jump out.

"It got to the point where I didn’t want to bring her in the car because I was afraid she would … try to get out while I was driving 60 miles per hour," McDonnell said.

Killian fixated on a less lethal and more discreet method of self-harm: cutting. When McDonnell took her to the hospital, she was once again turned away and advised to try more therapy despite not being able to afford it.

Then came the second attempt.

After an argument with McDonnell’s husband, Killian swallowed pills. Forty-five minutes passed before the gravity of what she had done set in. Scared, she confessed to her mother and was rushed to the hospital in time to be saved.

Even now, Killian’s fragility lingers just below the surface. McDonnell removed her bedroom door until recently. Only Killian’s best friends know why she missed school for more than two months.

"They were very surprised because they always said I was so happy in school. I never looked sad, always smiling, always telling jokes, always friendly. They said they never thought that it would happen [to me]."

Many attempt survivors later say they regretted the attempt — not just months or years later, but immediately after. Experts point to the impulsive nature of suicide as one reason why, in prevention strategies, the method matters.

Approximately 50 percent of all suicides are completed with a firearm, and roughly 80 percent of those are by men. Women are more likely to attempt suicide but less likely to die because they use other means: cutting and overdosing, in particular. The one exception is women in the military. Familiarity with firearms increases their likelihood of using a firearm to kill themselves.

Bowie’s father used a gun. That night he disappeared after an explosive fight with her mom. She found him drunk at a bar. He was uninterested in seeing her.

"I don’t want you here," he told her.

One week later, he turned that gun on himself.

People who use firearms have a 90 percent completion rate compared to people who use other methods, according to the CDC. The lethal nature of guns has prompted experts to develop innovative approaches to "means reduction." The concept is simple — prevent suicides by reducing access to a firearm while in crisis.

"That can be very counterintuitive to people," said Cathy Barber, director of Harvard’s Means Matter initiative. "They will say someone can always find other means. But most people are not staying acutely suicidal for long."

Moving From Grief to Action

"I want to welcome everybody to Life Resurrected."

That’s how suicide prevention advocate Cathy Siciliano greeted a group of parents, partners and relatives to a Huntingdon Valley Catholic church on a cold Thursday night in February. "This is a survivor of suicide loss support group. This is a safe environment."

The dozen or so people sitting under fluorescent lights and huddled around the table are familiar with each other and with the grief they are about to share. One woman lost her sibling 20 years ago. A couple lost their son and a nephew in the span of three years. Another woman sits next to the girlfriend of her late son — he killed himself just four weeks before they found their way to this meeting.

There is nothing anyone here can say to bring back what was lost, but Siciliano hopes that sharing can lessen the pain. Members of the group recount their personal tragedy every time they meet. Survivors don’t shrink away from breaking their silence.

"It’s the most complicated grief you can go through," Siciliano said to the group’s newest member. "There is anger, sadness, confusion. No one can possibly understand that."

Like those gathered inside the rectory, Siciliano likes talking about the son she lost. Anthony was 26 years old, a volunteer firefighter who was hoping to land a job with the Philadelphia Fire Department. He once described himself as Icarus wanting to change the world, but worried about flying too close to the sun.

The two spoke every morning at 6:30 while Siciliano drove to work. It was their ritual that went uninterrupted until the Sunday before Thanksgiving. On that particular day Anthony had a sinus infection and cut the call short. "I’m going to take my medicine and lay down," he told her.

When she didn’t hear from him the next morning, Siciliano sent her husband to check on Anthony. He found his son lifeless and alone in his bedroom.

Siciliano still doesn’t understand what prompted her son to kill himself. He was diagnosed with ADHD years earlier but didn’t take medication because of unwanted side effects. His toxicology report came back clean, and neither she nor her husband had noticed any major change in his attitude or behavior in the days leading up to his death.

The Huntingdon Valley school teacher tortured herself trying to remember every detail of their interactions: What had she missed? There was one small sign. Usually an entertainer, Anthony spent a family gathering barricaded in the garage texting a girl he dated for a short while. Now Siciliano wonders what they were texting about.

"He was like the Pied Piper with his cousins, yet he was removed from us that day," she said. "It was so subtle of indications that something was different about him, but no red flags."

Siciliano always assumed mental health disorders came with obvious symptoms. She never suspected that mere quietness or aloofness could signal something as final as suicide.

It’s a familiar refrain for parents whose children have died by suicide. While some kids might have a well documented history of depression or suicidal behavior, countless more go undiagnosed. Benton, CHOP’s foremost expert on adolescent suicide, estimates that up to 90 percent of families she has treated noticed a change in their loved ones just before their death.

Parents frequently shy away from having frank conversations with their children about suicide and mental health. They fear planting an idea. Schools avoid mental health screening for similar reasons. But experts point to the power of human relationships as one of the most powerful deterrents to suicide.

At Drexel University’s Center for Family Intervention Science, just steps away from 30th Street Station, the approach is rooted in the idea that parents have an instinctual desire to protect their children even when they don’t understand what a young person might be experiencing or feeling. Therapists treat families struggling with depression, sexual identity and trauma, as well as parents who assume teens are merely acting out for attention.

"It can be very dangerous for a parent to not take certain signs seriously," Dr. Guy Diamond, the center’s director, said. "We try to repair that relationship before it’s too late."

CHOP also believes in early intervention. Benton’s team spreads suicide awareness to places where people gather but don’t necessarily talk about mental health: community groups, recreation centers and churches. The goal is to educate people about the warning signs of suicide and encourage people to intercede if they notice a friend or relative is struggling. Frequently, asking a person directly if they are contemplating suicide can lead to a bigger conversation and, hopefully, treatment.

Breaking the Silence

The risk of speaking out is great. Siciliano’s closest friends and relatives advised her to never share the manner of Anthony’s death, but she felt as though keeping his struggle a shameful secret wronged his memory.

This kind of stigma prevented La Salle University senior Amanda Johncola from speaking out about her multiple suicide attempts.

Until now.

Quiet and delicate, she didn’t understand the sudden sinking feeling of depression that descended on her when she was 8 years old. It was like a fog, heavy and involuntary.

Her parents didn’t get it either. She was bullied at school and suffered from severe anxiety and later body dysmorphia. Everything felt wrong until she got to college, where she hid her pain by drinking. Eventually, typical college partying gave way to frequent blackouts and then sexual assault.

At first, Johncola didn’t think it was rape because she couldn’t remember what happened. She went to a party and the next morning woke up in a stranger’s bed.

"I told myself these things happen," she said. "But then I started having flashbacks."

Those flashbacks, coupled with years of clinical depression, led to a suicide attempt. It wasn’t her first and it wouldn’t be her last. In high school, she cut herself and played the choking game in hopes of dying. By college she had graduated to more lethal means.

The university gave her a lifesaving ultimatum: visit a crisis center or enroll in intensive therapy. The latter has proven fruitful. Her therapists are kind and accepting. Her new friends buoy her when she feels low. She now sees depression as a clinical issue that can be treated rather than a life sentence.

The 21-year-old has yet to confide in her parents about the attempts. She worries they will blame themselves. She worries what her siblings will think. She worries that her already distant relationship with her family will only grow more fraught.

Yet, the promise of letting go and leaving the pain behind is more urgent than any fear of retaliation. She has learned to take things as they come.

"You can't let your story stop — you have to keep pushing forward," Johncola said. "You don’t know what your life’s purpose is until you reach out and find it. Killing yourself isn’t a purpose."

Each suicide directly impacts six people, according to experts, with 129 more also touched by the loss. If suicide has historically been a whispered word, its effects are more aptly described as an earthquake with multiple, often recurring, aftershocks.

The pain of a mother is not the same as the grief of a daughter or the ongoing struggle of an attempt survivor. Each experience is different and unique, yet the voices all have something in common: the urgent need to speak out.

It’s not a radical concept, but it does demand a radical rethinking of how society perceives mental illness. If those who have survived suicide’s touch are not afraid to speak out, then we should not be afraid to hear them. Suicide will remain a whispered word until we say it aloud.

If you are in crisis, call the National Suicide Prevention Lifeline at 800-273-8255 or reach out to the Crisis Text Line by texting 'Home' to 741741.

The FIFA World Cup is the world's most watched sporting event and right around the corner. We have put together a quiz to determine how much you know about the tournament's history and the teams competing.

'Psychic' Cat Set to Predict World Cup Winners and Losers

Copa Mundial De La FIFA - T62 Coverage

A New Jersey high schooler was arrested after he was allegedly caught on camera riding a motorized dirt bike through the halls of his school in what appeared to be a senior prank, authorities say.

Video shot in Roxbury High School in Roxbury on Tuesday morning shows the boy blaring down the hallway on the bike as several other students cackle and yell "Senior prank!"

The student didn't make it far on his ride, however. Footage shows him being restrained by school staffers after rounding a corner, and another clip later on shows him being led out to a police car in handcuffs.

Roxbury Township police said that at some point during the boy's caper, the handlebar of his bike hit another student. The fellow student had minor injuries. 

Authorities said the boy was arrested afterward and charged with disorderly conduct and simple assault in the case. His name hasn't been released and his age is unclear. 

In a statement posted to its website on Wednesday, Roxbury Public Schools said that the student was spotted by staffers riding into the school building and that a second student let him in the school on the bike while the administration was "preparing to implement security procedures."

"As a result of yesterday's incident, we continue to reassess our current practices and protocols and have modified them as necessary," the district said. "The high school principal will be addressing security with the student body this afternoon."

The student who recorded the stunt says it's been the talk of the school. 

"A lot people I know thought it was hilarious," said Gavin Fehsal.

But parents at the school Wednesday were divided on whether handcuffs were the answer. 

"He should get arrested," said Tom Donati. 

"Students are scared and teachers are scared, but I do understand senior pranks. They are just kids," said Kelly Efchak.

"The things you used to be able to do aren't funny anymore. Now it could be considered scary," she said. 

A Delaware Waffle House was closed down after video surfaced of a mouse inside the restaurant. 

The viral video showed a mouse eating crumbs below a counter at the Waffle House in Smyrna. The Division of Public Health Office of Food Protection (OFP) received two complaints Tuesday about mice being spotted at the restaurant. OFP inspectors arrived the same day and found evidence of a rodent infestation.

The inspectors then closed the restaurant due to gross unsanitary conditions.

Officials say the Waffle House may request re-inspection Thursday at the earliest and must provide documented proof that pest control services were provided and other violations were corrected.

Only a few days before the Waffle House closure, a Wilmington, Delaware Burger King was shutdown after a viral video surfaced showing rodents running in bags of rolls. The Burger King was later reopened after inspectors determined the restaurant corrected all the violations.

Eagles fans are raised bleeding green, and one little girl from Cherry Hill, New Jersey, felt so upset about President Donald Trump's decision to rescind a White House invitation to her team that she wrote a letter to the president.

After voicing her concerns about the issue with her mom, eight-year-old Olivia Brill was given the suggestion to write the president. 

In a letter entitled "Dear President Trump," Olivia shares her thoughts about him disinviting her favorite team.

"I feel sad that the Eagles can't come to the White House anymore. I mean, they worked so hard to win the Super Bowl. Don’t you think they deserve to come?" Brill wrote.

The family sent the letter to 1600 Pennsylvania Avenue on Tuesday.

Her letter is a simple gesture from a non-political family, according to her mother, Lauren Brill.

Lauren said she is a teacher and her husband is a lawyer. Neither, she said, is politically active.

Eagles fans everywhere have voiced their opinions surrounding the White House controversy, and discussion is certain to continue in the near future.

She summed up the letter with a simple proposition to Trump: "Put yourself in their shoes. How would you feel?"

A Scottish man embarking on a transatlantic journey for charity was rescued at the Jersey Shore after he was stranded during a nasty storm. Now he's searching for his missing rowboat.