Analysis of information sources in references of the Wikipedia article "조지 메테스키" in Korean language version.
A crude, homemade bomb exploded in the Brooklyn Paramount Theatre last night, injuring six persons. Fifteen hundred persons were in the theatre.
Between Nov. 18, 1940, and Dec. 24, 1956 – a month more than sixteen years – the "Mad bomber" placed at least thirty-three homemade explosive devices.
George Metesky, the so-called "Mad Bomber," was committed to Matteawan Hospital for the Criminally Insane yesterday by Judge Samuel S. Leibowitz in Kings County Court.
Police investigators charged yesterday that the Consolidated Edison Company had impeded their search for the "Mad Bomber."
For more than sixteen years, the police have searched for the cunning eccentric who has planted thirty-two homemade explosive engines – like the one that led to the clearing of Bryant Park yesterday – around midtown Manhattan. The 'bomber' has left no positive clue.
An explosion from a small homemade bomb startled many commuters during the rush hour at 5:22 P. M. yesterday in Grand Central Terminal, but no one was injured and there was no panic.
A small, homemade bomb exploded in an empty telephone booth in the basement of the New York Public Library at 6:10 P. M. yesterday, injuring no one and causing slight damage.
A small, metal-cased bomb, about the size of a flashlight battery, exploded in a telephone booth at 6:15 A. M. yesterday in the Consolidated Edison Company building at 4 Irving Place.
Frederick Eberhardt, 56 years old, of 4117 De Reimer Avenue, the Bronx, a veteran cable splicer who formerly was employed by the Consolidated Edison Company, was booked early today at the East Twenty-second Street station in connection with the recent placing of small "pipe" bombs at the company's office and also in the Paramount Theatre.
A delayed action bomb, described by the police as the homemade product of a "publicity-seeking jerk," exploded in a parcel and luggage locker at Grand Central Terminal shortly before 5 P. M. yesterday. No one was injured.
A home-made time bomb exploded yesterday in a washroom on the lower level of Grand Central Terminal. Three men were injured slightly, and little property damage was done.
A crude, home-made time bomb exploded last night in the orchestra level of the Radio City Music Hall. It injured two women and two boys and startled a large section of the capacity audience in the world's second largest theatre.
The mysterious "bomb terrorist" was blamed yesterday for another blast in Manhattan, this time in Macy's department store.
A homemade time bomb was found inside a Roxy Theatre seat yesterday afternoon. It was discovered by an upholsterer who had taken the seat to his workroom to repair a slash in the red cloth covering.
A crude bomb exploded at 6:48 o'clock last night in the Paramount Theatre. Fragments struck the shoe of one moviegoer, but he was not injured.
A home-made bomb, similar to twenty-four others found in public places here since 1940, exploded in Grand Central Terminal at 5:05 o'clock last evening. No one was injured.
A 74-year-old attendant was seriously injured yesterday when a homemade bomb exploded in the men's lavatory at Pennsylvania Station.
WEST NEW YORK, N.J., Aug. 4 – An explosion in a kitchen here this morning proved to a special policeman that the "piece of pipe" he and two other guards had been carrying around Rockefeller. Center yesterday was a home-made time bomb.
Police Commissioned Stephen P. Kennedy yesterday ordered what he called the 'greatest manhunt in the history of the Police Department' for the perpetrator of Sunday night's bombing at the Brooklyn Paramount Theatre.
A fallen coin forestalled possible tragedy yesterday in the New York Public Library at Fifth Avenue and Forty-second Street.
An old unexploded bomb was found in a seat in Loew's Lexington Theatre yesterday and the police finally closed the George Metesky "Mad Bomber" case.
The Police Department has assembled the most comprehensive portrait yet of the eccentric bomb-planter who has eluded them for more than fifteen years.
The Police Department disclosed yesterday that it would distribute nationally a circular illustrating the type of homemade bomb that had been exploded in public places in midtown.
The Police Department distributed photographs yesterday of parts of letters received from the person who has been placing bombs in theatres and railroad terminals for the last sixteen years.
The police here announced early today that a 54-year-old man had admitted that he is the so-called Mad Bomber. The police said the man had confessed at Waterbury, Conn., where he is being questioned. They added that 'all things indicate he is the man.'
George P. Metesky was arraigned in Felony Court here last night as the "Mad Bomber" who had spread alarm through the city for the last sixteen years. He is a 54-year-old resident of Waterbury, Conn., who formerly worked for the Consolidated Edison Company here.
George P. Metesky, the eccentric mechanic once known as "The Mad Bomber," lost a legal effort yesterday to have himself declared mentally competent.
George P. Metesky was indicted yesterday as the so-called "Mad Bomber." Metesky has admitted that for sixteen years he planted explosives in New York.
In rejecting the appeal, a panel of three board members ruled that Mr. O'Rourke had not offered conclusive proof that Metesky was mentally incompetent at the time of the accident.
George Metesky, the "Mad Bomber" who has been in state mental hospitals since he was judged incompetent to stand trial in 1957, will receive a court hearing that could lead to his freedom.
George Metesky, the onetime "Mad Bomber," who for 16 years in the nineteen-forties and fifties terrorized the city with the explosives he set off in theaters, terminals, libraries and offices, is going home to Waterbury today.
It was nearly 11 o'clock, one mild, foggy night last week, when a squad of cops deployed cautiously around an old, grey, lace-curtained house at 17 Fourth Street in the factory district of Waterbury, Conn. After the guards were set, plainclothesmen walked up the steps and pounded loudly on the front door. The downstairs lights winked on, and stocky, smiling, pajama-clad George Metesky, a 54-year-old bachelor, answered the knock. His two elderly spinster sisters watched warily in the background. George never lost his polite grin. 'I think.' he said after a few preliminary questions and answers. 'I know why you fellows are here. You think I'm the Mad Bomber.'
It was nearly 11 o'clock, one mild, foggy night last week, when a squad of cops deployed cautiously around an old, grey, lace-curtained house at 17 Fourth Street in the factory district of Waterbury, Conn. After the guards were set, plainclothesmen walked up the steps and pounded loudly on the front door. The downstairs lights winked on, and stocky, smiling, pajama-clad George Metesky, a 54-year-old bachelor, answered the knock. His two elderly spinster sisters watched warily in the background. George never lost his polite grin. 'I think.' he said after a few preliminary questions and answers. 'I know why you fellows are here. You think I'm the Mad Bomber.'
