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Abe Buzzard, infamously known as the “Terror of the Welsh Mountains” by local newspapers, was 83 years old when he died at Eastern State Penitentiary on March 17, 1935. Despite the auspicious beginning of being born on Christmas in 1852, Abe became a career criminal, spending more than half of his life behind bars. When not imprisoned, he led the infamous Buzzard Gang, a band of outlaws responsible for robbing stores, raiding post offices, cracking safes, engaging in violent shootouts, and orchestrating daring jailbreaks.
Headquartered high in the rugged terrain of the Welsh Mountains, the gang terrorized Lancaster County and beyond for over five decades. According to local legend, a portion of the gang’s ill-gotten loot, including an ornate globus cruciger, was never recovered and remains hidden to this day. The globus cruciger, a rare Christian symbol representing Christ’s dominion over the world, is believed to have originated from a European monastery before being gifted to a local Catholic church in the late 1800s by a wealthy benefactor. With rumors of the Buzzard Gang’s crime spree reaching the congregation, church leaders made the fateful decision to safeguard the relic by placing it in a locked strongbox to be discreetly transported to the Jonestown Bank for safekeeping. However, fate—or perhaps outlaw cunning—intervened.
After Abe’s death, prison officials cataloged his personal effects, including a plain, unassuming journal. The manuscript was a peculiar mix—part memoir, part seemingly incoherent musings of an aging man. A note paperclipped to the pamphlet instructed that it be delivered to his son upon Abe’s passing. Whether the document was never sent or rejected by a son embarrassed by his father’s criminal past remains unclear. Either way, Abe’s journal was never delivered.
The manuscript was soon misplaced and forgotten…until now. Similar to the 2023 recovery of several Thaddeus Stevens artifacts—including the statesman’s wallet, Bible, and law book—the pamphlet resurfaced at the headquarters of the Historic Preservation Trust of Lancaster County. It was discovered tucked away during the ongoing archival inventory portion of their digitization process.
Upon closer examination by modern historians, sections of Abe’s 90-year-old journal—once dismissed by prison officials as nonsense—may, in fact, contain encoded writing. If deciphered, this cryptic codex could unveil the long-lost location of the legendary Buzzard’s Booty. Among the rumored treasures is the globus cruciger, a priceless relic of faith and power that has captured the imagination of treasure hunters and historians alike. Click here to order your Buzzard’s Booty: Quest for the Lost JBT Treasure kit today.
Here’s a transcript of one of Abe’s journal entries including his sketch of the globus cruciger.
They say a heist is only as good as its plan, and in March of 1894, we had a plan that even the Jonestown Bank couldn’t see coming. By the time the night was through, we walked away with a small fortune in cash and valuables. But what sticks with me most about that job wasn’t the money—it was the strange, golden artifact we found among the loot: a globus cruciger.
Now, we never set foot inside the Jonestown Bank itself. That would’ve been foolish, as their security was top-notch. Instead, we hit a shipment bound for the bank—a strongbox coming straight from Philadelphia. A train had carried it most of the way, and from there, an armored wagon was meant to deliver it to Jonestown under the cover of night. It was the perfect target. Cash for the bank, securities for their wealthiest customers, and, for reasons I still can’t quite figure, that globus cruciger.
I’d heard of such things before—a symbol of power and divinity, they said—but what was it doing in a shipment of bank funds? Turns out, a Catholic church in Philadelphia had stashed it there, trusting their local bank’s security over their own. They feared thieves might take it—thieves like us. And wouldn’t you know it? In trying to protect their treasure, they delivered it right into our hands.
The job itself went smooth. We’d scouted the route for weeks, knew the schedule, the guards, and exactly where to strike. We hit the wagon under the cover of darkness, took what we wanted, and left the rest. By morning, the financial institution in Philadelphia responsible for the money was scrambling, desperate to keep the news quiet. Losing a shipment like that? It was an embarrassment they couldn’t afford. They put pressure on the newspapers to bury the story, and for a time, it worked. Hardly anyone outside of the two banks ever knew what we pulled off.
Now, I’ve always believed in thinking ahead, so I took special care to hide that cruciger and a portion of the loot somewhere only I’d know. It was too hot to move right away, and I had plans to come back for it once things cooled off. But life has a way of unraveling plans, doesn’t it? The law caught up with me before I had the chance. That treasure—golden globe and all—is still out there, waiting.
Son, one day, I believe you’ll find it. If you learn to read between the lines and see the world from a different angle, you might just figure out where I hid that treasure. The answers are here, waiting for you to uncover them. When you do, remember this: it’s not just about what you find; it’s about what you do with it. That’ll be your story to write.
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