The Ghosts of Pine Street Station: Part 3

This four-part series delves into the history of Pine Street Station, which currently serves as home to the UMB Department of Police and Public Safety.


Note: Please see the video at the end of this article. Read Part 1 and Part 2.


Pine Station at the Turn of the Century

Pine Street Station, current administrative headquarters for UMB Police and Public Safety, was home to the Baltimore Police Western District from 1878 to 1951. The station was established to protect the area’s growing number of banks and to police the raucous blocks of theaters and taverns around Lexington Market — an area known as the “vice and prostitution district.”

A Baltimore Sun article describes crimes from the early years at the station: Minnie Klein, who was under 16 years old, was allowed inside a saloon where “spiritous or malt liquors were sold” in 1901. A drinker struck a companion “with a conch shell” in the same year. In 1902, Julius Burcher was fined $1 ($39 in 2026) for “driving faster than 6 miles an hour.”

Charles A. Kahler Joins the Ranks

In 1901, Charles A. Kahler joined the Baltimore Police Department’s ranks. The 25-year-old was the oldest of six children born to Henry — a barber from Germany — and his wife, Louisa.

As a new officer, Kahler received no formal instruction or field training. He reported for duty at the Northeastern Police Station the same night he got the job. In a Baltimore Sun article, Kahler says he had to borrow a helmet, nightstick, and uniform coat from an older officer he knew, since there was no time to get his own uniform. The sergeant dropped Kahler off, told him the location of his beat, and came back to get him later.

For his first two years on the force, Patrolman Kahler was assigned to the mounted unit since he had learned to ride in the Army. According to The Sun, Kahler then worked in plainclothes “against fortune tellers and petty thieves.”

In 1907, Kahler became one of just three members of the “Flying Squadron,” Baltimore’s first real emergency squad. The next year, he became a detective. In 1918, he was promoted to detective-lieutenant. In 1928, he was named captain and was told to “clean up the Eastern district.” To everyone’s amazement, he did.

In 1932, he transferred to Pine Street Station. Five years later, a lieutenant and sergeant stood in shock as Capt. Charles A. Kahler lay on a courtroom bench in Pine Station. The coroner confirmed it: Captain Kahler was dead.

Who was Charles A. Kahler?

Two days before his 21st birthday, Kahler enlisted with the U.S. Army as a private in the 6th U.S. Cavalry. His enlistment paperwork says he was employed as a “salesman” and lists his height as 5 feet, 7 inches.

Kahler served in the Spanish-American War in 1898. Following the war, he spent two years assigned as a hospital steward in Humacao, Puerto Rico, where he learned Spanish. In this role, Kahler may have been dispensing medication, managing hospital supplies, maintaining medical records, and supervising hospital employees. Three years later, Kahler was honorably discharged.

The 1900 Federal Census lists Kahler as a “steward,” which corroborates his military record. However, interestingly, it also lists Kahler as divorced.

Marriage records show Kahler married 18-year-old Lillie C. Rapp on March 25, 1896 — one year before he joined the military. A Baltimore Sun article says Lilly (sic) C. Kahler, a music teacher, was granted a divorce "on the ground of abandonment." According to the article, she hadn't seen her husband since March 15, 1897, which happens to be just one day before records show Charles A. Kahler enlisted in the U.S. Army in Fort Myer, Va.  

Kahler married Sophia Schiller on April 10, 1902. The pair lived together at 906 Patterson Park Ave. until his death in 1937. They did not have any children.

Rising Through the Ranks

The Sun said Kahler was “regarded as one of the finest detectives in the city” and was commended an astounding 22 times. News articles describe Kahler traveling to Cuba, Honduras, Spain, Greece, Italy, and Argentina to track down criminals who were on the run.

In 1929, The Sun wrote a profile about Kahler titled, “A Fictional Man-Hunter in the Flesh” chronicling his adventures to arrest fugitive criminals. The article says Kahler is “adept at solving baffling crimes” and says he is frequently requested by other Maryland counties to “clear up some crime that has left the rural Sherlocks completely at sea.” He was said to have handled thousands of criminals during his time with the Baltimore Police. His attention to detail, willingness to work long hours, and military training were attributed to his success.

However, Kahler was also unpopular. He was described as being hard on his men, prisoners, and suspects. The article says he occasionally slept on a cot in his office, “had no hobbies and belonged to no outside organizations.” When it came to policing, Kahler was all in.

Multiple newspaper reports describe Kahler going up against court magistrates. Kahler routinely took his criminal cases to a grand jury after they were dismissed by a magistrate and was often successful. A 1935 article says Kahler successfully used this tactic to earn convictions on charges including bookmaking, operating a marble game, and operating a lottery.  

Even as captain, Kahler frequently took it upon himself to question suspects. A 1935 Sun article describes Kahler as spending “several hours” questioning two underage girls who were drinking beer at a West Baltimore Street tavern, which would have been located near today’s School of Dentistry. In 1937, cabaret entertainer Mildred Viola confessed to stealing $400 and hiding it in her electrical light socket in her Linden Avenue home.

Nov. 16, 1937

The sun had already set, and the dry autumn temperatures had dipped in the 40s. Capt. Charles A. Kahler, now 61, sat behind his desk. He’d been questioning Clarence Douglas for hours. Douglas was picked up the day before about an assault and robbery and was being held at the Western Police Station.

The night before, the captain and his wife sat at the dinner table talking about their day. "I’m questioning the robbery suspect tomorrow," Kahler told Sophia. "I’m afraid I won’t be able to break the man’s alibi."

The clock struck 8 o’clock. Kahler got up and walked into the main room of the station house. Something didn’t feel right. Maybe a drink of water would help.

Kahler was just steps from the water cooler when he slumped into a chair. Lt. Joseph Nelligan and Sgt. Charles Rohlfing leapt into action, carrying the semiconscious captain into the courtroom and placing him on a bench.

They called for Dr. William Gilroy, Kahler’s personal physician, but he couldn’t be reached. At Kahler’s request, the city coroner was summoned. By 8:30 p.m., Kahler was dead.

In The Sun, Gilroy said Kahler “suffered from a chronic heart condition” and his “health had not been of the best in recent years.”

Flags at Half-Staff

Maryland Gov. Harry W. Nice said he’d known Kahler since he joined the prosecutor’s office and his regard for the captain had increased constantly throughout the years.

Flags were flown at half staff to mark the death of the commander of the Western Police District. His fellow Baltimore Police captains served as pallbearers and a uniformed guard of 50 patrolmen were at the graveside. Kahler and his family are buried at Immanuel German Lutheran Cemetery in Baltimore.

Unfinished Business?

News articles announcing Kahler’s death in 1937 describe the captain as being stricken while questioning a robbery suspect and dying just a few minutes later. He had told his wife he feared he wouldn’t break the suspect’s alibi.

Kahler had unfinished business when he died in Pine Station. Could he be wandering the halls, seeking his final confession?

Amateur ghost hunters explore Pine Station — what did they find? That’s Part 4 of "The Ghosts of Pine Street Station" series.

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