If you go to the canal in Bakersfield's Central Park at dawn, you are likely to run into something that perhaps you'd prefer not to see. A ghostly woman, wearing a white robe-like garment, has been reported to haunt this area, and might be seen by early risers. Some reports say that she weeps as she wanders the canal's banks, while others don't report any sounds at all.
Local legend holds that this ghost is the spirit of a murdered woman whose remains were found under the floor of an old foundry when work was performed there (other versions of the story claim that her remains were found on the other side of the park). Who she was, why she was murdered, or even when she was murdered have never been determined.
Nonetheless, her ghost wanders the canal.
Commentary: This appears to be another urban legend/legend tripping case. We have the location where the ghost can be seen, a time to go and see her, a description of the ghost that is vague enough to allow the imagination to run wild, and an origin story of the ghost that nicely avoids particulars.
One particularly interesting point is that at least one group of people have argued that this is a variation on the La Llarona story. There are certainly similarities - a mysterious woman who is seen close to water, sometimes heard weeping. However, there are also differences, this woman was supposedly a murder victim, and not a mother who had killed her children or allowed them to be killed. Also, some of the traits that she shares with many stories of La Llarona - the wandering, weeping, and the robe-like clothing - are also shared with many other legends of ghosts.
Is there a link between La Llarona and Bakersfield's ghost? Perhaps. But the interesting question to me is, if there is a connection, is the Bakersfield ghost a variation on the La Llarona story, or did elements of the La Llarona story get added to an existing story in Bakersfield?
Sources: Internet, Internet, Internet
Monday, June 29, 2009
Friday, June 26, 2009
Amy of Lick Road, Hamilton, Ohio
Edit 12-7-12: A commentor suggested that this story is in Hamilton, Ohio, and not Cincinatti, as originally stated. I have looked it up, and believe that she is correct, and have edited the entry accordingly.
Amy was murdered by her boyfriend. Some say that she was murdered on Kemp Road, others that she was murdered in a nearby park, and some say that she was murdered in a nearby cul-de-sac, but what everyone agrees on is that here body was found on Lick Road, just outside of Hamilton, Ohio.
Since her death, a number of weird things have been said to occur on Lick Road. If you drive your car to the end of the road, the windows will fog up and the word "HELP" will be written in the fog (some versions of the story say that you have to flash your lights three times before this happens). If you flash your lights at the stop sign as you turn onto Lick Road, the word "STOP" will be replaced by the word "AMY." People have reported seeing a woman dressed in white wandering the countryside near Lick Road. And it is said that if you follow a trail leading down to a wooden bridge, you will hear a mysterious "clunk" sound, perhaps the sound of a body hitting the planks of the bridge?
Commentary: This is classic urban legend stuff. We have a creepy story based on tragedy, many variations of that story, and specific instructions to follow in order to experience ghostly happenings. This is typical of legend tripping, and is a delightful example of it.
Many people who visit the location claim to have experienced odd events, even if not those mentioned in the stories. Do strange things happen here? Maybe, but remember that people who go to Lick Road looking for ghosts may interpret anything that happens as evidence of a ghost without looking further into it.
Nonetheless, it's a great story, and I highly recommend that anyone who lives in Butler County take the opportunity to check the place out - after all, it's not often that you can experience a ghost story in a public (and hence not-likely-to-get-you-arrested-for-trespassing) place.
Sources: Newspaper, Internet, Ohio Exploration Society
Amy was murdered by her boyfriend. Some say that she was murdered on Kemp Road, others that she was murdered in a nearby park, and some say that she was murdered in a nearby cul-de-sac, but what everyone agrees on is that here body was found on Lick Road, just outside of Hamilton, Ohio.
Since her death, a number of weird things have been said to occur on Lick Road. If you drive your car to the end of the road, the windows will fog up and the word "HELP" will be written in the fog (some versions of the story say that you have to flash your lights three times before this happens). If you flash your lights at the stop sign as you turn onto Lick Road, the word "STOP" will be replaced by the word "AMY." People have reported seeing a woman dressed in white wandering the countryside near Lick Road. And it is said that if you follow a trail leading down to a wooden bridge, you will hear a mysterious "clunk" sound, perhaps the sound of a body hitting the planks of the bridge?
Commentary: This is classic urban legend stuff. We have a creepy story based on tragedy, many variations of that story, and specific instructions to follow in order to experience ghostly happenings. This is typical of legend tripping, and is a delightful example of it.
Many people who visit the location claim to have experienced odd events, even if not those mentioned in the stories. Do strange things happen here? Maybe, but remember that people who go to Lick Road looking for ghosts may interpret anything that happens as evidence of a ghost without looking further into it.
Nonetheless, it's a great story, and I highly recommend that anyone who lives in Butler County take the opportunity to check the place out - after all, it's not often that you can experience a ghost story in a public (and hence not-likely-to-get-you-arrested-for-trespassing) place.
Sources: Newspaper, Internet, Ohio Exploration Society
Wednesday, June 24, 2009
Modesto High School
Updated on May 12, 2010
Anyone who has spent much time as or around students at Modesto High School is likely to have heard the story of the ghost in the auditorium. The most common version of the tale holds that a young man, a student at the school, fell from the auditorium's balcony and died when his head struck the floor below. Since his death, he is often seen walking back and forth on the balcony.
There are, of course, variations on this story. In some of the variations that I have heard, the young man was despondent and commited suicide. In others, he was killed in an accident involving a sand bag or weight used to move scenery on pulleys.
While the auditorium ghost is the only version of the story that I have heard from other people who have lived in or around Modesto, entering "Modesto High School Ghost" into Google also produces a few references to strange knocking noises heard in one of the school's hallways, next to a room that used to be (and for all I know still is) used for home economics classes. On a few of the sites that mention this, the knocking sound is said to come from the floor, and references are made to tunnels that used to run under the school.
Commentary: I probably heard the auditorium story for the first time from my older sister, who graduated from Modesto High in 1992. Since then, I have heard it numerous times, from students and alumni of the school as well as from other folks around town.
Gene and Bryan of Hometown Tales, in an episode on haunted colleges made a comment to the effect of "the reason why there are ghost stories in colleges is because boys and girls go to college together." The same probably applies to high schools, as the use of scary stories is pretty common in adolescent courtship. But there is a bit more to it than that. Scary stories are a part of teenage social bonding in general, not just between the sexes, and putting the story in a shared context, such as a high school, makes it even more effective.
Add to that the fact that, as I am assured by everyone I know who has ever been involved in theatre, "every theatre has a ghost*", and it seems certain that the auditiorium of a high school would have its own ghost story.
In of June 22, 2009, the Wikipedia entry for Modesto High School had a history section that was two paragraphs long. The first, longer paragraph described the school's history. The second, short paragraph listed, with no transition, a few ghosts said to haunt the school. The jarring and non-sequitor nature of the entry was hilarious. However, it has now been changed and lacks the comedy elements that it had back then.
*Interestingly, I have only ever met one person involved in theatre who scoffed at the ghost stories. While doom is said to fall on those who dismiss the spirits, she was actually one of the most succesful theatre professionals that I have ever met. So, go figure.
Sources: Local Folklore, Published Book, The Illustrious Internet
Anyone who has spent much time as or around students at Modesto High School is likely to have heard the story of the ghost in the auditorium. The most common version of the tale holds that a young man, a student at the school, fell from the auditorium's balcony and died when his head struck the floor below. Since his death, he is often seen walking back and forth on the balcony.
There are, of course, variations on this story. In some of the variations that I have heard, the young man was despondent and commited suicide. In others, he was killed in an accident involving a sand bag or weight used to move scenery on pulleys.
While the auditorium ghost is the only version of the story that I have heard from other people who have lived in or around Modesto, entering "Modesto High School Ghost" into Google also produces a few references to strange knocking noises heard in one of the school's hallways, next to a room that used to be (and for all I know still is) used for home economics classes. On a few of the sites that mention this, the knocking sound is said to come from the floor, and references are made to tunnels that used to run under the school.
Commentary: I probably heard the auditorium story for the first time from my older sister, who graduated from Modesto High in 1992. Since then, I have heard it numerous times, from students and alumni of the school as well as from other folks around town.
Gene and Bryan of Hometown Tales, in an episode on haunted colleges made a comment to the effect of "the reason why there are ghost stories in colleges is because boys and girls go to college together." The same probably applies to high schools, as the use of scary stories is pretty common in adolescent courtship. But there is a bit more to it than that. Scary stories are a part of teenage social bonding in general, not just between the sexes, and putting the story in a shared context, such as a high school, makes it even more effective.
Add to that the fact that, as I am assured by everyone I know who has ever been involved in theatre, "every theatre has a ghost*", and it seems certain that the auditiorium of a high school would have its own ghost story.
In of June 22, 2009, the Wikipedia entry for Modesto High School had a history section that was two paragraphs long. The first, longer paragraph described the school's history. The second, short paragraph listed, with no transition, a few ghosts said to haunt the school. The jarring and non-sequitor nature of the entry was hilarious. However, it has now been changed and lacks the comedy elements that it had back then.
*Interestingly, I have only ever met one person involved in theatre who scoffed at the ghost stories. While doom is said to fall on those who dismiss the spirits, she was actually one of the most succesful theatre professionals that I have ever met. So, go figure.
Sources: Local Folklore, Published Book, The Illustrious Internet
Monday, June 22, 2009
Mission La Purisima, Lompoc, CA
Prompted both by British interests in western North America and Russian incursions onto the west coast, the Spanish government decided in the 18th century to begin colonizing Alta California (or, as we now call it, the state of California). Missions were established at regular intervals from San Diego up to San Francisco, all of them falling within a relatively short distance from the coast.
The missions have their share of ghost stories, some due to the amount of death and misery that occur ed within them, others due to the simple fact that these are amongst the few recognizably historic features on California's relatively young constructed landscape. I lived, for a time, just a few miles from Mission La Purisima Concepcion, just outside of the town of Lompoc, near Vandenberg Air Force Base. I spent many afternoons at the mission, enjoying walks through the open land as well as wandering in and out of the mission buildings. And, of course, I began to hear rumors of ghosts who stalked the mission grounds.
In and around the main building, the chapel, people have reported seeing a monk walking the halls, as well as phantom monks walking about inside the building. Cold spots and feelings of being watched are common, as are the sounds of voices. Some people have claimed that "energy vortexes" (often claimed, never explained) are found within the chapel. One park ranger, and a few visitors, has reported seeing a man in a white sleeping gown (described by the ranger as "Benjamin Franklin in drag") in the old living quarters. Others claim to have seen various different priests, neophytes (the Native Californians who resided within the missions), and various workers appear and vanish within the various outbuildings and workshops at the mission.
Outside of the mission's buildings, mysterious lights have been reported in the cemetery as have voices and other sounds. Speaking voices, the sound of flutes, and singing have been heard throughout the ground. People claim to have sen shadows moving at night. Strange sounds are often reported on the mission grounds. A phantom greyhound dog has also been reported.
Commentary: The La Purisima Concepcion state park exists at the second location of Mission La Purisima. The first mission was founded in 1787 at a location that now resides within the central portion of the City of Lompoc. The mission was damaged in an earthquake in 1812, and the decision was made to move the mission several miles to the north, in the location where the restored buildings currently stand. The mission operated until 1834, when it, along with most of California's other missions, was secularized. After this, the mission lands passed through the hands of a succession of landowners - most of them ranchers - and the buildings and other facilities fell into a state of disrepair. Many of the buildings, including the mission's impressive chapel, were reconstructed in the 1930s as part of the efforts of the Civilian Conservation Corps.
California's colonial era is largely mythologized, the missions being the subject of both demonization and romanticization, and even those who think of themselves as well-informed usually know more myth than fact about this period of California's history.
To be certain, the missions would have been a miserable place for many of the neophytes, due to the physical constraints placed on them by mission life, the probably incomprehensible ritual required by the padres who ran the missions, and the disease caused by cramped quarters and poor sanitary conditions.
The Spanish priests and soldiers likely weren't much happier about conditions. They were far from home, the military and religious authorities clashed bitterly over who should be responsible for the colonization of Alta California, and violence both among the Spanish and between the Spanish and the native people of the area was not uncommon.
In short, everyone was miserable. When one considers that the mythology that has risen up around the missions tends to amplify and exxagerate this misery, and the fact that the missions are some of the few recognizably historic landmarks on California's relatively recent constructed landscape, it is no surprise that all of them seem to have a reputation for hauntings.
La Purisima is often described as the "most haunted" mission (though, again, I suspect that every mission has at least some number of people who will label it the "most haunted"), and has been a mecca for many self-styled paranormal investigators.
Amongst these investigators is Richard Senate, who I find to be a fascinating character. First off, the guy is clearly a good sport, even agreeing to be filmed for Penn & Teller's Bullshit (though the segment was ultimately never broadcast). And, after reading a number of his articles and books, I am inclined to think that he is an honest person who is really trying his hardest to research something. The problem is that he does so with a methodology that is so sloppy that it is bound to give useless results.
For example, in his book Ghosts of the Gold Coast, Senate describes visiting La Purisima, and discovering that there was something strange and powerful in the main chapel. His evidence for this was the fact that people in the group that he brought kept going to the same spot in the chapel and spinning around, as well as reporting cold spots, feeling as if there was a presence nearby, and so on. The problem is that he had all of these people in the room together at the same time, so that, even if they were not speaking with each other, they were seeing each other's behavior and taking cues from each other. He had brought the people in to observe their behavior as an experiment, but he failed to put even the most rudimentary controls on that experiment (such as leading people in one at a time to observe them). This sort of sloppiness permeates his investigations at La Purisima, as well as many of the others that he has performed elsewhere.
Ultimately, Senate demonstrates the right attitude (experiment, gather data, see if there really is something), but all of the wrong methods.
Anyone who truly wishes to investigate, rather than just sight-see, would do well to take a lesson from this, otherwise you're more likely to simply reinforce your own preconceived notions than to find anything real.
Video Treat:
I love it when I can post videos as well. This one has a moment in which the two young women featured in the video tell a spirit that it can not leave the grounds of the mission - which lead me to wonder if the legal prohibitions against taking anything from state or federal lands also applies to supernatural entities. What would the attorney general say?
Sources: Printed Book, Newspaper, Local Folklore, Richard Senate, Richard Senate - again, Internet, Internet
The missions have their share of ghost stories, some due to the amount of death and misery that occur ed within them, others due to the simple fact that these are amongst the few recognizably historic features on California's relatively young constructed landscape. I lived, for a time, just a few miles from Mission La Purisima Concepcion, just outside of the town of Lompoc, near Vandenberg Air Force Base. I spent many afternoons at the mission, enjoying walks through the open land as well as wandering in and out of the mission buildings. And, of course, I began to hear rumors of ghosts who stalked the mission grounds.
In and around the main building, the chapel, people have reported seeing a monk walking the halls, as well as phantom monks walking about inside the building. Cold spots and feelings of being watched are common, as are the sounds of voices. Some people have claimed that "energy vortexes" (often claimed, never explained) are found within the chapel. One park ranger, and a few visitors, has reported seeing a man in a white sleeping gown (described by the ranger as "Benjamin Franklin in drag") in the old living quarters. Others claim to have seen various different priests, neophytes (the Native Californians who resided within the missions), and various workers appear and vanish within the various outbuildings and workshops at the mission.
Outside of the mission's buildings, mysterious lights have been reported in the cemetery as have voices and other sounds. Speaking voices, the sound of flutes, and singing have been heard throughout the ground. People claim to have sen shadows moving at night. Strange sounds are often reported on the mission grounds. A phantom greyhound dog has also been reported.
Commentary: The La Purisima Concepcion state park exists at the second location of Mission La Purisima. The first mission was founded in 1787 at a location that now resides within the central portion of the City of Lompoc. The mission was damaged in an earthquake in 1812, and the decision was made to move the mission several miles to the north, in the location where the restored buildings currently stand. The mission operated until 1834, when it, along with most of California's other missions, was secularized. After this, the mission lands passed through the hands of a succession of landowners - most of them ranchers - and the buildings and other facilities fell into a state of disrepair. Many of the buildings, including the mission's impressive chapel, were reconstructed in the 1930s as part of the efforts of the Civilian Conservation Corps.
California's colonial era is largely mythologized, the missions being the subject of both demonization and romanticization, and even those who think of themselves as well-informed usually know more myth than fact about this period of California's history.
To be certain, the missions would have been a miserable place for many of the neophytes, due to the physical constraints placed on them by mission life, the probably incomprehensible ritual required by the padres who ran the missions, and the disease caused by cramped quarters and poor sanitary conditions.
The Spanish priests and soldiers likely weren't much happier about conditions. They were far from home, the military and religious authorities clashed bitterly over who should be responsible for the colonization of Alta California, and violence both among the Spanish and between the Spanish and the native people of the area was not uncommon.
In short, everyone was miserable. When one considers that the mythology that has risen up around the missions tends to amplify and exxagerate this misery, and the fact that the missions are some of the few recognizably historic landmarks on California's relatively recent constructed landscape, it is no surprise that all of them seem to have a reputation for hauntings.
La Purisima is often described as the "most haunted" mission (though, again, I suspect that every mission has at least some number of people who will label it the "most haunted"), and has been a mecca for many self-styled paranormal investigators.
Amongst these investigators is Richard Senate, who I find to be a fascinating character. First off, the guy is clearly a good sport, even agreeing to be filmed for Penn & Teller's Bullshit (though the segment was ultimately never broadcast). And, after reading a number of his articles and books, I am inclined to think that he is an honest person who is really trying his hardest to research something. The problem is that he does so with a methodology that is so sloppy that it is bound to give useless results.
For example, in his book Ghosts of the Gold Coast, Senate describes visiting La Purisima, and discovering that there was something strange and powerful in the main chapel. His evidence for this was the fact that people in the group that he brought kept going to the same spot in the chapel and spinning around, as well as reporting cold spots, feeling as if there was a presence nearby, and so on. The problem is that he had all of these people in the room together at the same time, so that, even if they were not speaking with each other, they were seeing each other's behavior and taking cues from each other. He had brought the people in to observe their behavior as an experiment, but he failed to put even the most rudimentary controls on that experiment (such as leading people in one at a time to observe them). This sort of sloppiness permeates his investigations at La Purisima, as well as many of the others that he has performed elsewhere.
Ultimately, Senate demonstrates the right attitude (experiment, gather data, see if there really is something), but all of the wrong methods.
Anyone who truly wishes to investigate, rather than just sight-see, would do well to take a lesson from this, otherwise you're more likely to simply reinforce your own preconceived notions than to find anything real.
Video Treat:
I love it when I can post videos as well. This one has a moment in which the two young women featured in the video tell a spirit that it can not leave the grounds of the mission - which lead me to wonder if the legal prohibitions against taking anything from state or federal lands also applies to supernatural entities. What would the attorney general say?
Sources: Printed Book, Newspaper, Local Folklore, Richard Senate, Richard Senate - again, Internet, Internet
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Spectral Soldiers in My Bedroom
As a teenager, I woke up one night to hear the sound of artillery shells, and saw that my room was occupied by somewhat luminescent and translucent World War I-era soldiers, preparing to leave the trench for the machine-gun fed slaughter that was mistakenly called a "battle" during that war. I knew that I had to go with my comrades, as futile as it was, and so I began to don my backpack, pick up my rifle, and get ready. I was still in my room, but I knew that once I opened the door, I would be int he trench, and ready to fight. I went to the door, opened it, and saw my hallway...by this point, I had completely waken, and felt a bit foolish to be standing there in my backpack, holding a dowel that I had been keeping in my room for who-knows-what reason.
Commentary: I was unsure about whether or not I should include this story on this site. It's a description of events that occured to me when I was a teenager, and to which I have never attributed a supernatural cause. However, it does have a basic structure in common with many ghost stories, and like my experiences on the cliffs in Goleta, I decided to include it to illustrate a point that becomes relevant to anyone who works with personal accounts of hauntings.
The events that occured bore many of the features common to stories of hauntings: I woke up as a result of sounds, witnessed some truly weird spectres, and (in a slightly unusual, but not unheard of, twist) I joined these ghostly soldiers for battle. I could have viewed this as some sort of weird visitation or out-of-body experience, but instead I reflected on the fact that earlier in the evening I had been watching a television show about WWI-era trench warfare, and that the descriptions of the misery of the soldiers had really disturbed and gotten to me, and I also had been having trouble sleeping lately. Putting the two together, it became obvious that I was experiencing a mundane, if somewhat creepy, event.
The point to all of this is pretty simple. When I collect ghost stories from people, most of them tell me about events that occurred while, or shortly after, they had been resting, usually (but not always) in bed. The descriptions are usuall pretty simple - they see someone standing over them that vanishes, they hear strange sounds that they can't identify, or they perhaps even get out of bed and see/hear/smell something unusual. Invariably, the teller of the tale assures me that they were awake, and I hear those words "I know what I" saw/heard/smelt/etc. However, I have yet to hear one of these stories that is not absolutely compatible with near-sleep hallucinations. I also have never had a conversation with someone about such an experience in which they said that they had bothered to look for dosconfirming evidence before deciding that their experience was a supernatural one.
In short - when you are looking into people's stories, don't take everything at face value. They may have perceived something, and honestly believe that it was an external influence, when it was in fact something that came from their own physiology.
Sources: Personal Experience
Commentary: I was unsure about whether or not I should include this story on this site. It's a description of events that occured to me when I was a teenager, and to which I have never attributed a supernatural cause. However, it does have a basic structure in common with many ghost stories, and like my experiences on the cliffs in Goleta, I decided to include it to illustrate a point that becomes relevant to anyone who works with personal accounts of hauntings.
The events that occured bore many of the features common to stories of hauntings: I woke up as a result of sounds, witnessed some truly weird spectres, and (in a slightly unusual, but not unheard of, twist) I joined these ghostly soldiers for battle. I could have viewed this as some sort of weird visitation or out-of-body experience, but instead I reflected on the fact that earlier in the evening I had been watching a television show about WWI-era trench warfare, and that the descriptions of the misery of the soldiers had really disturbed and gotten to me, and I also had been having trouble sleeping lately. Putting the two together, it became obvious that I was experiencing a mundane, if somewhat creepy, event.
The point to all of this is pretty simple. When I collect ghost stories from people, most of them tell me about events that occurred while, or shortly after, they had been resting, usually (but not always) in bed. The descriptions are usuall pretty simple - they see someone standing over them that vanishes, they hear strange sounds that they can't identify, or they perhaps even get out of bed and see/hear/smell something unusual. Invariably, the teller of the tale assures me that they were awake, and I hear those words "I know what I" saw/heard/smelt/etc. However, I have yet to hear one of these stories that is not absolutely compatible with near-sleep hallucinations. I also have never had a conversation with someone about such an experience in which they said that they had bothered to look for dosconfirming evidence before deciding that their experience was a supernatural one.
In short - when you are looking into people's stories, don't take everything at face value. They may have perceived something, and honestly believe that it was an external influence, when it was in fact something that came from their own physiology.
Sources: Personal Experience
Monday, June 15, 2009
Ghost Ship of the Southwestern Deserts
Some time in the 17th century, three Spanish ships set out from port in western Mexico, sailing northwards towards Baja California under orders to obtain pearls from the natives. At this they were successful and their holds were filled with pearls, but they met with disaster nonetheless. The first ship became grounded on a sand bar, and could not be removed. The second ship was attacked by unfriendly natives and sank. The third ship, now carrying the surviving crew of the first two ships, carried on, sailing up the Gulf of California to the mouth of the Colorado River. Believing that they had found the fabled Straits of Anian (a supposed, but ultimately nonexistent, North American water route between the Pacific and Atlantic Oceans), the ship sailed up the Colorado River, eventually finding a large lake in the middle of an otherwise arid desert.
The ship sailed around the lake for a time, looking to continue the journey to the Atlantic Ocean. However it soon became clear that the water was receding and the lake shrinking. Desperate, the captain ordered the ship to sail back the way it came - but as the lake's water level dropped, the ship became mired in the mud of the lake's bottom.
The crew abandoned the ship and headed for the coast on foot, carrying all of the supplies and pearls that they could. In the end, only handful of sailors made it out alive, being rescued by Spanish ships on the coast.
Since then, people in the desert sometimes see a ship sailing above the desert floor, as if on long-vanished water, glowing with an eerie light. The ship may simply be replaying its last voyage, or it may be providing a clue as to where the remains of the corporeal ship are, so that they may be found and the ghost ship and its crew find rest.
Commentary: The story of the "lost ship of the desert" has been circulating in California, Nevada, Arizona, and northern Mexico for nearly 200 years. The apparition of a ghostly ship seems to be a new addition to the story, and the only source that I can find for it is S. E. Schlosser's book Spooky California. I have not been able to figure out whether this represents the, frankly obvious, addition of a "ghost ship" to the story by Schlosser, or if this particular element of the legend has been in circulation for a while.
Most versions of the story forgo the apparition of the ship, and focus instead on the supposed whereabouts of the ship and/or the various treasure hunters who have searched for the ship (many of them dying in the process). The story has also bubbled up into the general (non-regional) public consciousness from time to time, and been featured in many a pulp and comic adventure story.
Although Schlosser sets the story in the Mojave, the ship is more often said to have become stranded in the Salton Basin in California's Imperial County, where the large oscillating lake known as the Salton Sea exists (and was once drained). Some tellers also place the ship in the Colorado desert (more logical considering that it sailed up the Colorado River), as well as various different parts of northern Mexico and the southern U.S.
Also, the nature of the ship is different from telling-to-telling. While the ship is typically said to be Spanish, sometimes a specific captain and crew are even assigned, it has also been claimed to be English, Russian, and even a Viking ship exploring the Americas.
Ghost story or no, is it likely that the lost ship really exists? Okay, I will admit that I am a bit out of my depth on this one, but based on the knowledge I do have of the hydrological history of the American southwest, I have to say that the odds of there being any truth to this story are very, very low (edit, 8/30/2011: see * below). First off, the body of water most likely to support a sailing ship, other than the Colorado River itself, is the Salton Sea, which, from what I have been able to work out, has not been accessible from the Colorado River in many mellenia (though if any geologists/geographers out there know differently, drop me a line). Secondly, even if such a body of water were reached, it seems unlikely that a large lake would drain that quickly unless a drainage channel had just eroded through. That being said, I believe that there are cases of ships becoming stranded in areas where waters do end up receding rapidly, so remember that this is simply unlikely, not impossible. In addition, many printed versions of the story have that give-away of psuedoscholarship: "most experts say that area XX was not accessible to a ship, but those of us who believe in the lost ship know better!"
But, you know, even though I know that the likelihood of this ship being real is extremely low, and even though I doubt that it would have a hold full of pearls even if it were real...well, I have to admit that I am still very strongly tempted to go looking for it myself. I even find myself thinking about ways to build probability models for where a ship might have ended up.
The truth is, I actually don't care about whether the ship is real or not. I am tempted by the adventure of looking for it, and it's an exciting feeling. Typically, when there is a legend such as this with a ghost story attached, I feel drawn to the ghost story more than anything else...but not in this case. And I don't know why.
* I have spoken both in-person and online with geologists and hydrologists who inform me that the possibility of a lost ship is somewhat higher than I would have estimated. So, keep in mind that I am not an expert on the subject, and that there are those far more knowledgeable than I am who do not find the idea of a ship being stranded in that location to be far-fetched.
Sources: Published Book, A Whole Mess o' Magazine Articles, Internet, Personal Accounts
The ship sailed around the lake for a time, looking to continue the journey to the Atlantic Ocean. However it soon became clear that the water was receding and the lake shrinking. Desperate, the captain ordered the ship to sail back the way it came - but as the lake's water level dropped, the ship became mired in the mud of the lake's bottom.
The crew abandoned the ship and headed for the coast on foot, carrying all of the supplies and pearls that they could. In the end, only handful of sailors made it out alive, being rescued by Spanish ships on the coast.
Since then, people in the desert sometimes see a ship sailing above the desert floor, as if on long-vanished water, glowing with an eerie light. The ship may simply be replaying its last voyage, or it may be providing a clue as to where the remains of the corporeal ship are, so that they may be found and the ghost ship and its crew find rest.
Commentary: The story of the "lost ship of the desert" has been circulating in California, Nevada, Arizona, and northern Mexico for nearly 200 years. The apparition of a ghostly ship seems to be a new addition to the story, and the only source that I can find for it is S. E. Schlosser's book Spooky California. I have not been able to figure out whether this represents the, frankly obvious, addition of a "ghost ship" to the story by Schlosser, or if this particular element of the legend has been in circulation for a while.
Most versions of the story forgo the apparition of the ship, and focus instead on the supposed whereabouts of the ship and/or the various treasure hunters who have searched for the ship (many of them dying in the process). The story has also bubbled up into the general (non-regional) public consciousness from time to time, and been featured in many a pulp and comic adventure story.
Although Schlosser sets the story in the Mojave, the ship is more often said to have become stranded in the Salton Basin in California's Imperial County, where the large oscillating lake known as the Salton Sea exists (and was once drained). Some tellers also place the ship in the Colorado desert (more logical considering that it sailed up the Colorado River), as well as various different parts of northern Mexico and the southern U.S.
Also, the nature of the ship is different from telling-to-telling. While the ship is typically said to be Spanish, sometimes a specific captain and crew are even assigned, it has also been claimed to be English, Russian, and even a Viking ship exploring the Americas.
Ghost story or no, is it likely that the lost ship really exists? Okay, I will admit that I am a bit out of my depth on this one, but based on the knowledge I do have of the hydrological history of the American southwest, I have to say that the odds of there being any truth to this story are very, very low (edit, 8/30/2011: see * below). First off, the body of water most likely to support a sailing ship, other than the Colorado River itself, is the Salton Sea, which, from what I have been able to work out, has not been accessible from the Colorado River in many mellenia (though if any geologists/geographers out there know differently, drop me a line). Secondly, even if such a body of water were reached, it seems unlikely that a large lake would drain that quickly unless a drainage channel had just eroded through. That being said, I believe that there are cases of ships becoming stranded in areas where waters do end up receding rapidly, so remember that this is simply unlikely, not impossible. In addition, many printed versions of the story have that give-away of psuedoscholarship: "most experts say that area XX was not accessible to a ship, but those of us who believe in the lost ship know better!"
But, you know, even though I know that the likelihood of this ship being real is extremely low, and even though I doubt that it would have a hold full of pearls even if it were real...well, I have to admit that I am still very strongly tempted to go looking for it myself. I even find myself thinking about ways to build probability models for where a ship might have ended up.
The truth is, I actually don't care about whether the ship is real or not. I am tempted by the adventure of looking for it, and it's an exciting feeling. Typically, when there is a legend such as this with a ghost story attached, I feel drawn to the ghost story more than anything else...but not in this case. And I don't know why.
* I have spoken both in-person and online with geologists and hydrologists who inform me that the possibility of a lost ship is somewhat higher than I would have estimated. So, keep in mind that I am not an expert on the subject, and that there are those far more knowledgeable than I am who do not find the idea of a ship being stranded in that location to be far-fetched.
Sources: Published Book, A Whole Mess o' Magazine Articles, Internet, Personal Accounts
Saturday, June 13, 2009
Andersonville Prison, Georgia
Andersonville Prison (A.K.A. Camp Sumter), near Americus Georgia, is often brought up as an example of the brutal conditions of Civil-War era military prisons. The prison was really little more than wood and cloth temporary structures surrounded by a stockade wall, patrolled by armed guards who were generally willing to kill anyone who passed the "deadline" - a line that created a buffer between the prisoner's area and the prison's walls.
Like most prisons of its day, the camp was plagued by poor sanitation, crowding, and violence both among the prisoners and between the prisoners and guards. One notable group was "Mosby's Raiders", a group of prisoners led by Mosby Collins who would terrorize and take advantage of the other prisoners. Eventually, the warden allowed the prisoners to put several of the "raiders" on trial and execute them.
Up to 13,000 prisoners died during the prison's operation. The prison population could equal 20,000 prisoners at any one time. In 1864, with Union soldiers pushing their way into Georgia, most of the prisoners were vacated from Andersonville and moved to other locations. A group of approximately 1,500 prisoners was left behind, guarded by a skeleton crew of Confederate soldiers. The prison was closed down in 1865 due to the end of the war.
In the century and a half since the closing of the prison, numerous frightening stories have been told about the place. Phantom soldiers have been said to appear and vanish. Overnight campers, taking part in civil war reenactments, have reported developing a strange sickness during the course of the night and feeling an overwhelming malevolence that compelled them to leave. Other visitors have reported being physically pushed by unseen forces; hearing the sounds of screams, marching, and gunshots; seeing figures faintly during fog, accompanied by sounds of screaming and moaning; Hearing voices calling for specific individuals known to have been at the prison; and being overwhelmed by a strong charnel-house smell.
One noteworthy apparition is that of Captain Wirz - the designer and warden of the prison, who was put on trial for war crimes after the end of the war. He was summarily executed.
One popular story holds that a soldier in era-uniform has been seen walking down the road near the prison, visible by the light of the lantern he carries. When the Hometown Tales guys began to speak with people about this story, they quickly found the likely origin of this particular story. One of their contacts, a Civil War re-enacter, was walking along the road during an event-related camping trip. When a truck passed by, the driver appears to have caught a glimpse of the uniformed man and nearly crashed, but took off again without finding out what was really going on.
Commentary: The Civil War occupies a unique place in the American mind. Although inter-state antagonism is not unusual, most people within the nation will identify themselves primarily as citizens of the United States, and secondarily as Georgians, Floridans, Californians, Hoosiers (residents of Indiana), etc. Although this story was different during the late 18th and early 19th century, this hierarchy of identities has long been typical of the people of the U.S.A.
As such, the Civil War represents a breakdown of the perceived natural order. And it is a festering psychic scar on the American consciousness, one that has come to represent different things to different people. To most of us, it represents the final death knell of slavery within the U.S. To a small, but vocal, group, it represents the tyranny of industrial progressives over God-fearing rural people. Of course, neither mythologized view is quite correct, but that doesn't stop them from maintaining popularity.
The Civil war is also significant in the American mind in that it is one of only two wars in which a significant number of people died on U.S. soil, the other being the Revolutionary war (smaller conflicts resulted in deaths on a smaller scale, or a large number of deaths but over a larger period of time - such as wars against Native American groups), and of these two, the Civil war was by far the bloodier. As a result, sites associated with the Civil War take on great significance even amongst those who do not subscribe to supernatural beliefs.
To those who do subscribe to such beliefs these locations are hallowed and haunted ground. Stories of civil war ghosts run the gamut from rather prosaic stories about seeing a single individual in uniform appearing and vanishing to stories about battles being re-enacted by spectral armies. Although Gettysburg is the best known example, others are in ready supply throughout the south, mid-west, and on the east coast.
That Andersonville should have weird events attributed to it is not surprising. Aside from being significant in terms of its ties to the Civil War, it is also a place that witnessed considerable misery and cruelty. Even those who do not believe in ghosts may feel themselves creeped out by such places.
...and another video treat from you, from the rather groovy fella's at
Hometown Tales:
...and another one from another source...
Sources: Hometown Tales, Internet, Internet, National Park Service
Like most prisons of its day, the camp was plagued by poor sanitation, crowding, and violence both among the prisoners and between the prisoners and guards. One notable group was "Mosby's Raiders", a group of prisoners led by Mosby Collins who would terrorize and take advantage of the other prisoners. Eventually, the warden allowed the prisoners to put several of the "raiders" on trial and execute them.
Up to 13,000 prisoners died during the prison's operation. The prison population could equal 20,000 prisoners at any one time. In 1864, with Union soldiers pushing their way into Georgia, most of the prisoners were vacated from Andersonville and moved to other locations. A group of approximately 1,500 prisoners was left behind, guarded by a skeleton crew of Confederate soldiers. The prison was closed down in 1865 due to the end of the war.
In the century and a half since the closing of the prison, numerous frightening stories have been told about the place. Phantom soldiers have been said to appear and vanish. Overnight campers, taking part in civil war reenactments, have reported developing a strange sickness during the course of the night and feeling an overwhelming malevolence that compelled them to leave. Other visitors have reported being physically pushed by unseen forces; hearing the sounds of screams, marching, and gunshots; seeing figures faintly during fog, accompanied by sounds of screaming and moaning; Hearing voices calling for specific individuals known to have been at the prison; and being overwhelmed by a strong charnel-house smell.
One noteworthy apparition is that of Captain Wirz - the designer and warden of the prison, who was put on trial for war crimes after the end of the war. He was summarily executed.
One popular story holds that a soldier in era-uniform has been seen walking down the road near the prison, visible by the light of the lantern he carries. When the Hometown Tales guys began to speak with people about this story, they quickly found the likely origin of this particular story. One of their contacts, a Civil War re-enacter, was walking along the road during an event-related camping trip. When a truck passed by, the driver appears to have caught a glimpse of the uniformed man and nearly crashed, but took off again without finding out what was really going on.
Commentary: The Civil War occupies a unique place in the American mind. Although inter-state antagonism is not unusual, most people within the nation will identify themselves primarily as citizens of the United States, and secondarily as Georgians, Floridans, Californians, Hoosiers (residents of Indiana), etc. Although this story was different during the late 18th and early 19th century, this hierarchy of identities has long been typical of the people of the U.S.A.
As such, the Civil War represents a breakdown of the perceived natural order. And it is a festering psychic scar on the American consciousness, one that has come to represent different things to different people. To most of us, it represents the final death knell of slavery within the U.S. To a small, but vocal, group, it represents the tyranny of industrial progressives over God-fearing rural people. Of course, neither mythologized view is quite correct, but that doesn't stop them from maintaining popularity.
The Civil war is also significant in the American mind in that it is one of only two wars in which a significant number of people died on U.S. soil, the other being the Revolutionary war (smaller conflicts resulted in deaths on a smaller scale, or a large number of deaths but over a larger period of time - such as wars against Native American groups), and of these two, the Civil war was by far the bloodier. As a result, sites associated with the Civil War take on great significance even amongst those who do not subscribe to supernatural beliefs.
To those who do subscribe to such beliefs these locations are hallowed and haunted ground. Stories of civil war ghosts run the gamut from rather prosaic stories about seeing a single individual in uniform appearing and vanishing to stories about battles being re-enacted by spectral armies. Although Gettysburg is the best known example, others are in ready supply throughout the south, mid-west, and on the east coast.
That Andersonville should have weird events attributed to it is not surprising. Aside from being significant in terms of its ties to the Civil War, it is also a place that witnessed considerable misery and cruelty. Even those who do not believe in ghosts may feel themselves creeped out by such places.
...and another video treat from you, from the rather groovy fella's at
Hometown Tales:
...and another one from another source...
Sources: Hometown Tales, Internet, Internet, National Park Service
Thursday, June 11, 2009
The Little Red Man, Salem-Winston, North Carolina
The location now known as Old Salem Village and Gardens was once the location of a Morovian colony. It is also the former home of a strange creature known as the "Little Red Man."
As the legend goes, there was a cobbler named Andreas Kresmer living in the colony during the late 18th century. He was killed in a construction accident while preparing the foundation for the colony's house for unmarried men. After his death, people claim to have heard the sound of a cobbler at work when in the vicinity of this building. Eventually, people began to report seeing a small man, wearing a red cap (as Kresmer himself did) in the vicinity of the building.
Over time, the building came to be used as the home for widows. On one occasion, the granddaughter of one widow, a girl named Betsy, ran in to her grandmother's room, telling a story about a small man in a red cap who wanted Betsy to come and play.
Eventually, the ghost was exorcised by a minister following a run-in with one of the community leaders. Since then, the ghost has passed into obscurity.
Commentary: What a great story! What appears to be going on here is a mixing of two types of folklore. The first concerns the classic ghost story - a man dies during an accident and thereafter elements of his life continue to echo in the setting in which he died - specifically the sound of a cobbler's tools at work. Classic stuff.
The other type of folklore concerns the spirit people* of northern European folklore. The little red man resembles the trolls, elves, and faeries of Northern Europe, and his association with a a domestic task (in this case, shoemaking) is reminiscent of mythological creatures such as brownies. The melding of the two is not entirely odd, as some European folklore from the Renaissance onward (possibly continuing an earlier tradition) conflated the spirit people of folklore with dead humans.
The stories of European spirit people would have come with the Morovians when the arrived in the Americas. That such a story would get attached to their new colony is unsurprising. That it would be attached to a particular person as it was is rather more interesting (and given Morovian record-keeping habits, it appears likely that Kresmer was, in fact, a real person). One is left wondering why this occurred.
*Most cultures have folklore concerning spirit people, be they "the ancestors", angels, trolls, kobolds, faeries, devils, or any number of other names. These are usually conceived of as the intelligent forces, benign or malevolent, behind nature, and descendants of them are seen in even the "big three" monotheistic religions of the world.
Internet
As the legend goes, there was a cobbler named Andreas Kresmer living in the colony during the late 18th century. He was killed in a construction accident while preparing the foundation for the colony's house for unmarried men. After his death, people claim to have heard the sound of a cobbler at work when in the vicinity of this building. Eventually, people began to report seeing a small man, wearing a red cap (as Kresmer himself did) in the vicinity of the building.
Over time, the building came to be used as the home for widows. On one occasion, the granddaughter of one widow, a girl named Betsy, ran in to her grandmother's room, telling a story about a small man in a red cap who wanted Betsy to come and play.
Eventually, the ghost was exorcised by a minister following a run-in with one of the community leaders. Since then, the ghost has passed into obscurity.
Commentary: What a great story! What appears to be going on here is a mixing of two types of folklore. The first concerns the classic ghost story - a man dies during an accident and thereafter elements of his life continue to echo in the setting in which he died - specifically the sound of a cobbler's tools at work. Classic stuff.
The other type of folklore concerns the spirit people* of northern European folklore. The little red man resembles the trolls, elves, and faeries of Northern Europe, and his association with a a domestic task (in this case, shoemaking) is reminiscent of mythological creatures such as brownies. The melding of the two is not entirely odd, as some European folklore from the Renaissance onward (possibly continuing an earlier tradition) conflated the spirit people of folklore with dead humans.
The stories of European spirit people would have come with the Morovians when the arrived in the Americas. That such a story would get attached to their new colony is unsurprising. That it would be attached to a particular person as it was is rather more interesting (and given Morovian record-keeping habits, it appears likely that Kresmer was, in fact, a real person). One is left wondering why this occurred.
*Most cultures have folklore concerning spirit people, be they "the ancestors", angels, trolls, kobolds, faeries, devils, or any number of other names. These are usually conceived of as the intelligent forces, benign or malevolent, behind nature, and descendants of them are seen in even the "big three" monotheistic religions of the world.
Tuesday, June 9, 2009
Mudhouse Mansion, Lancaster, Ohio
Mudhouse Mansion, located on Mudhouse Road in Lancaster, Ohio, was no doubt a beautiful building at one point in time. Now, however, age and neglect have caused the once grand appearance of the red brick building to become foreboding and creepy. Not surprisingly, there are numerous ghost stories attached to this once fine home.
It is said that the original owner of the house continued to own slaves even after the Civil War. At night, he would lock the slaves in an outbuilding, but one enterprising slave spent his evenings digging a tunnel beneath the outbuildings floorboards. After many months of this, the slave finally managed to burrow out from the small structure and reach the mansion's yard. He snuck into the mansion and murdered all members of the family in their sleep before freeing his fellow slaves. The now former slaves fled into the night, never to be heard from again. From that night on, strange shrieks and other weird sounds have been heard emanating from the house, no doubt the ghostly cries of the murdered family.
Another story holds that a family of five moved into the house some time in the late 19th century. After they moved in, nobody ever saw them outside of the house. After five days, one of the neighbors looked across at the house and saw a woman standing at the window, staring out at here. Unnerved, the woman closed her curtains. The next day, she saw the same thing, and the day after that. Finally, on the tenth day, she suspected something was amiss and contacted the local authorities. When law enforcement officers entered the house, they found that the staring woman at the window was not standing at all, but had been hanging by the neck from the rafters. It appeared that the entire family had either hung themselves or been hung, and had been there in that state for the last ten days.
It is also said that a woman named Mary lived int he home with her three children. In a fit of rage, she murdered her children (or else her husband murdered her children), and through this act she damned herself. Now, she is known as Bloody Mary and her vengeful spirit can be summoned by those foolish enough to try.
Modern visitors to the house report uneasy feelings, strange sounds, and faces appearing in photographs.
All in all, a damnably eerie place.
Commentary: From the photos I have seen and the descriptions that I have heard, this appears to be one amazingly creepy house. This is the sort of house that horror writers dream of - a huge, deteriorating brick edifice in an isolated location, with an owner who refuses to reside in the place or repair it, but who is vigilant and will not allow anyone else to enter.
As fr the stories attached to the place - a the time of the Civil War, Ohio was not a slave-owning state, so the notion that someone in Ohio refused to give up his slaves after the war is, frankly, rather silly and shows a rather blatant ignorance of history.
Searching, I could find no reference to the hangings (or other suicides or murders in the house) other than those that are explicitly about the legend.
In fact, the true history of the house's ownership is, while interesting in its own right, rather prosaic. It was built in the early-to-mid 19th century (records don't indicate it's period of construction with certainty, but it was probably the 1830s or 1840s), and owned by a succession of families, each residing for a period of at least a few decades.
The claim that the house is the home of a mythological character is, of course, goofy to begin with. However, this goofiest of the stories also indicates the likely source of the other stories. This house has been a favorite destination for legend trippers for decades, and much of it's haunted reputation likely comes from the stories told by kids and teenagers to each other when they are daring each other to enter the place.
A sense of mystery is further maintained by the attitude of the current owner, who has no apparent interest in living in the house, and is unwilling to sell the house or repair it, but who is vigilant enough to ensure that those trespassing into the place are likely to encounter the local authorities upon their exit. While the reasons for this may be quite normal - perhaps she refuses to sell because of the house's significance to the family, perhaps she lacks the funds to refurbish it but does not want to let it slip into other hands before she has the opportunity to do so, perhaps any number of other explanations.
Regardless, an isolated house with the appearance that this one sports is bound to attract stories, and the added air of mystery lent to it by the owner's eccentric-seeming attitude to the house only further perpetuates such stories.
Sources: Associated Content, Internet, Internet, Ohio Trespassers
It is said that the original owner of the house continued to own slaves even after the Civil War. At night, he would lock the slaves in an outbuilding, but one enterprising slave spent his evenings digging a tunnel beneath the outbuildings floorboards. After many months of this, the slave finally managed to burrow out from the small structure and reach the mansion's yard. He snuck into the mansion and murdered all members of the family in their sleep before freeing his fellow slaves. The now former slaves fled into the night, never to be heard from again. From that night on, strange shrieks and other weird sounds have been heard emanating from the house, no doubt the ghostly cries of the murdered family.
Another story holds that a family of five moved into the house some time in the late 19th century. After they moved in, nobody ever saw them outside of the house. After five days, one of the neighbors looked across at the house and saw a woman standing at the window, staring out at here. Unnerved, the woman closed her curtains. The next day, she saw the same thing, and the day after that. Finally, on the tenth day, she suspected something was amiss and contacted the local authorities. When law enforcement officers entered the house, they found that the staring woman at the window was not standing at all, but had been hanging by the neck from the rafters. It appeared that the entire family had either hung themselves or been hung, and had been there in that state for the last ten days.
It is also said that a woman named Mary lived int he home with her three children. In a fit of rage, she murdered her children (or else her husband murdered her children), and through this act she damned herself. Now, she is known as Bloody Mary and her vengeful spirit can be summoned by those foolish enough to try.
Modern visitors to the house report uneasy feelings, strange sounds, and faces appearing in photographs.
All in all, a damnably eerie place.
Commentary: From the photos I have seen and the descriptions that I have heard, this appears to be one amazingly creepy house. This is the sort of house that horror writers dream of - a huge, deteriorating brick edifice in an isolated location, with an owner who refuses to reside in the place or repair it, but who is vigilant and will not allow anyone else to enter.
As fr the stories attached to the place - a the time of the Civil War, Ohio was not a slave-owning state, so the notion that someone in Ohio refused to give up his slaves after the war is, frankly, rather silly and shows a rather blatant ignorance of history.
Searching, I could find no reference to the hangings (or other suicides or murders in the house) other than those that are explicitly about the legend.
In fact, the true history of the house's ownership is, while interesting in its own right, rather prosaic. It was built in the early-to-mid 19th century (records don't indicate it's period of construction with certainty, but it was probably the 1830s or 1840s), and owned by a succession of families, each residing for a period of at least a few decades.
The claim that the house is the home of a mythological character is, of course, goofy to begin with. However, this goofiest of the stories also indicates the likely source of the other stories. This house has been a favorite destination for legend trippers for decades, and much of it's haunted reputation likely comes from the stories told by kids and teenagers to each other when they are daring each other to enter the place.
A sense of mystery is further maintained by the attitude of the current owner, who has no apparent interest in living in the house, and is unwilling to sell the house or repair it, but who is vigilant enough to ensure that those trespassing into the place are likely to encounter the local authorities upon their exit. While the reasons for this may be quite normal - perhaps she refuses to sell because of the house's significance to the family, perhaps she lacks the funds to refurbish it but does not want to let it slip into other hands before she has the opportunity to do so, perhaps any number of other explanations.
Regardless, an isolated house with the appearance that this one sports is bound to attract stories, and the added air of mystery lent to it by the owner's eccentric-seeming attitude to the house only further perpetuates such stories.
Sources: Associated Content, Internet, Internet, Ohio Trespassers
Sunday, June 7, 2009
The White Lady of Graham Hill Road
A German immigrant living in the hills near Santa Cruz sent away for a mail-order bride from Massachusettes. The man was a violent alcoholic, however, and beat his wife on a regular basis, often forcing her to wear her wedding gown while he beat her.
After a time, the woman decided to leave her abusive husband, and began making arangements for escape. Upon learning of this, the drunkard's cruelty came to its climax, and he drugged her (though some versions of the story say that he killed her and then decapitated her post-mortem) and left her in the house, which he set on fire (some versions of the story claim that she was killed on her wedding night, before she even thought of leaving the man).
After her death, people began to report seeing a luminous woman dressed in white in the woods near the site of the house (just off of modern-day Graham Hill Road near the Ocean Street extension). Sometimes she is simply seen and/or heard as she walks through the woods. At other times she may take violent action against anyone that is unfortunate enough to encounter her (it seems likely that a white ghost said to haunt the Graham Hill Road Cemetery is the same as the White Lady).
Commentary: This is a variation on the White Lady ghost story, found throughout the world (one particularly famous example comes from the region of Bavaria, which mixes elements of the classic "White Lady" legend with elements of La Llarona). Santa Cruz's equivalent is made a bit more interesting by the fact that the area in which it occurs also has many other ghost stories associated with it (such as the stories associated with the cemetery on Graham Hill Road). The origins of the story are unclear, and even the story itself is highly variable - the version given above is the most common on heard, but another origin story for the ghost is similar to that for Christie Ranch on Santa Cruz Island, and features a young woman waiting for her husband, who has died in a shipwreck, eventually wasting away and dying of loneliness.
The location in which the story takes place, a forested area until a few decades ago when a new housing development and a condominium complex were constructed, is a slope at the foot of a hill. On this slope (at least as of a few years ago) is a decaying concrete foundation for a structure that might have been a house. The place has become a favorite location for local ghost hunters, legend trippers, and teens looking for a quiet make-out spot. It is across the street from the cemetery, and right next to one busy road and one eerily quiet road.
Sources: Local Legend, Newspaper, Santa Cruz Wiki, Wikipedia, Internet, Personal Account
After a time, the woman decided to leave her abusive husband, and began making arangements for escape. Upon learning of this, the drunkard's cruelty came to its climax, and he drugged her (though some versions of the story say that he killed her and then decapitated her post-mortem) and left her in the house, which he set on fire (some versions of the story claim that she was killed on her wedding night, before she even thought of leaving the man).
After her death, people began to report seeing a luminous woman dressed in white in the woods near the site of the house (just off of modern-day Graham Hill Road near the Ocean Street extension). Sometimes she is simply seen and/or heard as she walks through the woods. At other times she may take violent action against anyone that is unfortunate enough to encounter her (it seems likely that a white ghost said to haunt the Graham Hill Road Cemetery is the same as the White Lady).
Commentary: This is a variation on the White Lady ghost story, found throughout the world (one particularly famous example comes from the region of Bavaria, which mixes elements of the classic "White Lady" legend with elements of La Llarona). Santa Cruz's equivalent is made a bit more interesting by the fact that the area in which it occurs also has many other ghost stories associated with it (such as the stories associated with the cemetery on Graham Hill Road). The origins of the story are unclear, and even the story itself is highly variable - the version given above is the most common on heard, but another origin story for the ghost is similar to that for Christie Ranch on Santa Cruz Island, and features a young woman waiting for her husband, who has died in a shipwreck, eventually wasting away and dying of loneliness.
The location in which the story takes place, a forested area until a few decades ago when a new housing development and a condominium complex were constructed, is a slope at the foot of a hill. On this slope (at least as of a few years ago) is a decaying concrete foundation for a structure that might have been a house. The place has become a favorite location for local ghost hunters, legend trippers, and teens looking for a quiet make-out spot. It is across the street from the cemetery, and right next to one busy road and one eerily quiet road.
Sources: Local Legend, Newspaper, Santa Cruz Wiki, Wikipedia, Internet, Personal Account
Friday, June 5, 2009
The Old Lady on the Porch
When my grandmother was a kid, she lived in of Iquitos, a small town in Peru on the edge of the Amazon rain forest founded by Italian miners. One day, she was walking out to the rain forest, and when she passed the last house on the edge of the town, she saw an old woman sitting on the porch of the house. The old woman called her over, and when my grandmother came she was instructed to go and get adults from the town and have them enter the house.
My grandmother did as she was told, and when she brought the adults to the house, the old woman was no longer on the steps. They entered the house, and the old woman was lying in bed, dead. As it turns out, she had been dead for several days, but, having no family, nobody discovered this.
Once discovered, the woman was given a proper burial
Commentary: Yet another story from a coworker (when you tell people that you collect ghost stories, they tend to be more than happy to tell you theirs).
This story features a ghost trying to right a wrong, and see to it that her remains are correctly cared for. These sorts of stories are not unusual, though they usually take the form of urban legends (a friend of a friend told me) rather than being stories about specific people.
In addition to not being unusual, these sorts of stories are quite old. In The Canterbury Tales, Chaucer tells of a ghost of a murdered man leading the authorities to his murderer. Similar to the story considered here, the story of the Borley Rectory features a ghost attempting to have its remains properly buried. Greek paganism held that a person who was not properly buried would be forced to roam the Earth, never being able to find Hades. And outside of western cultures, it is a common belief that someone who is not properly buried will be unable to move on from this life.
This type of story speaks to how cultures view death. The proper disposal of human remains, whatever that may be in a particular culture, must be followed, or else a great ill will be visited either on the dead or on the survivors. Where this comes from is unknown, but even those who do not believe in a soul or afterlife tend to behave with extra special caution in seeing to it that a deceased person's wishes for disposal are carried out, indicating that this sort of impulse runs deep, either culturally or biologically, in humans.
Source: Personal Account
Wednesday, June 3, 2009
The Lemp Mansion, St. Louis, Missouri
From the mid-19th through the early 20th centuries, the Lemp family ruled a fortune built on the brewing and sale of lager beers. At one time, Lemp beers were among the most popular in the United States. However, the family also has a history of tragedy. One of the Lemp heirs, Frederick Lemp, died while in his early 20s, while preparing to take on the family business. Three generations of Lemp patriarchs committed suicide, and one may either have driven his wife to suicide or possibly murdered her (following a long history of his infidelity and abuse) years before he took his own life. In addition to this, the Lemp family had a history of mental illness ranging from depression to severe obsessive-compulsive disorder. There are also rumors that one of the Lemp men fathered an illegitimate child who had Downs syndrome and kept him locked in the attic, but this appears to be folklore rather than fact.
William Lemp sr., the second patriarch of the Lemp family, purchased what would become the Lemp Mansion in 1876 in order to house his family. Tunnels were built to link the mansion to the caves underneath the Lemp brewery (the caves, as places with your-round stable temperatures, were initially used in part of the brewing process, and later used for entertaining guests in a surreal environment). The brewery remained strong until the early 20th century, when disinterest among family members led to a decline, and the final blow came with the establishment of prohibition.
The mansion transitioned from family home to offices and back to home for Charles Lemp, one of the last two of the Lemp line, who lived in the home alone, save for a few servants, and appeared to have developed numerous odd phobias and anxiety problems during his later years.
After Charles Lemp's death, the mansion became a boarding house. The house's rather macabre history, coupled with stories of strange and ghostly happenings, resulted in the boarding house rarely being completely full, and it's eventually financial losses. Today the mansion is a hotel and restaurant, and stories of ghostly occurrence continue.
During renovations to turn the place into a hotel and restaurant, it is claimed that workers reported hearing voices, feelings of being watched, and missing tools. Reportedly, several workers refused to return to the job site. The staff and patrons of the Lemp Mansion report footsteps without an apparent source, doors and cabinets opening and closing on their own, voices speaking, screams, laughter, and witnessing objects moving (sometimes violently) on their own. The apparition of a woman who may be the wronged (and possibly murdered) wife of William Lemp Jr. has been reported. And, of course, William Lemp Jr. himself, always the philanderer, has been reported to appear in the women's restroom.
In 1980, Life Magazine declared the Lemp Mansion to be one of the most haunted houses in the United States. The mansion was also featured on MTV's short-lived series Fear. The management has been vocal about the mansion's reputation as a haunted house, and this has, by their own admission, been very good for business.
Commentary: As has been noted twice before, having a resident ghost can be good business for an establishment that banks on atmosphere, such as a restaurant or hotel. And the Lemp Mansion has embraced this fact, making the ghost stories just as much of a part of its marketing campaign as it's food and rooms.
So, what of the stories, is there anything to them, or are they simply a mix of hysteria and hopefulness on the part of curiosity seekers?
It's hard to say. On the one hand, the house itself, being a large, imposing structure, was bound to attract stories whether anybody experienced anything or not - anyone familiar with the nature of folklore in urban settings would expect that. In addition, the media presence of the house, as demonstrated by its listing in Life , on MTV, and the numerous websites and newspaper stories about it, give plenty of fodder to the imaginations of those wishing or expecting to encounter a ghost. So, there are plenty of explanations for why visitors of the past few decades might come away with tales.
What is more interesting to me, but what I have had little luck in tracking down, is the prevalence of ghost stories relating to the place before it's current incarnation. While many books, magazines, and websites repeat the stories regarding boarding house tenants reporting strange happenings and renovation crews becoming freaked out, I have had little luck finding primary sources with the same information dating to before the mansion's time as a well-promoted place of business. If such information can be found, then THAT would be of great interest to anyone trying to figure out what, if anything, is actually going on in the house.
...and, hey, another video treat for all y'all
Sources: Prairie Ghosts, Karen Stollznow, Internet, Restaurant Home Page, Internet
William Lemp sr., the second patriarch of the Lemp family, purchased what would become the Lemp Mansion in 1876 in order to house his family. Tunnels were built to link the mansion to the caves underneath the Lemp brewery (the caves, as places with your-round stable temperatures, were initially used in part of the brewing process, and later used for entertaining guests in a surreal environment). The brewery remained strong until the early 20th century, when disinterest among family members led to a decline, and the final blow came with the establishment of prohibition.
The mansion transitioned from family home to offices and back to home for Charles Lemp, one of the last two of the Lemp line, who lived in the home alone, save for a few servants, and appeared to have developed numerous odd phobias and anxiety problems during his later years.
After Charles Lemp's death, the mansion became a boarding house. The house's rather macabre history, coupled with stories of strange and ghostly happenings, resulted in the boarding house rarely being completely full, and it's eventually financial losses. Today the mansion is a hotel and restaurant, and stories of ghostly occurrence continue.
During renovations to turn the place into a hotel and restaurant, it is claimed that workers reported hearing voices, feelings of being watched, and missing tools. Reportedly, several workers refused to return to the job site. The staff and patrons of the Lemp Mansion report footsteps without an apparent source, doors and cabinets opening and closing on their own, voices speaking, screams, laughter, and witnessing objects moving (sometimes violently) on their own. The apparition of a woman who may be the wronged (and possibly murdered) wife of William Lemp Jr. has been reported. And, of course, William Lemp Jr. himself, always the philanderer, has been reported to appear in the women's restroom.
In 1980, Life Magazine declared the Lemp Mansion to be one of the most haunted houses in the United States. The mansion was also featured on MTV's short-lived series Fear. The management has been vocal about the mansion's reputation as a haunted house, and this has, by their own admission, been very good for business.
Commentary: As has been noted twice before, having a resident ghost can be good business for an establishment that banks on atmosphere, such as a restaurant or hotel. And the Lemp Mansion has embraced this fact, making the ghost stories just as much of a part of its marketing campaign as it's food and rooms.
So, what of the stories, is there anything to them, or are they simply a mix of hysteria and hopefulness on the part of curiosity seekers?
It's hard to say. On the one hand, the house itself, being a large, imposing structure, was bound to attract stories whether anybody experienced anything or not - anyone familiar with the nature of folklore in urban settings would expect that. In addition, the media presence of the house, as demonstrated by its listing in Life , on MTV, and the numerous websites and newspaper stories about it, give plenty of fodder to the imaginations of those wishing or expecting to encounter a ghost. So, there are plenty of explanations for why visitors of the past few decades might come away with tales.
What is more interesting to me, but what I have had little luck in tracking down, is the prevalence of ghost stories relating to the place before it's current incarnation. While many books, magazines, and websites repeat the stories regarding boarding house tenants reporting strange happenings and renovation crews becoming freaked out, I have had little luck finding primary sources with the same information dating to before the mansion's time as a well-promoted place of business. If such information can be found, then THAT would be of great interest to anyone trying to figure out what, if anything, is actually going on in the house.
...and, hey, another video treat for all y'all
Sources: Prairie Ghosts, Karen Stollznow, Internet, Restaurant Home Page, Internet
Monday, June 1, 2009
Resurrection Mary, Chicago, Illinois
Drivers in Chicago have long reported encounters with a mysterious ghost near Resurrection Cemetery*. Sometimes the woman is encountered at the O Henry Ballroom, where she may accept a ride home from a dance partner only to vanish from the car when it passes the cemetery. Other times she is found hitchhiking along the road with the same results. The earliest reports, from the mid-1930s, tell of a young woman attempting to jump onto the running boards of passing vehicles.
Sometimes the encounters are more disturbing. Numerous people have reported hitting a young woman, complete with the thud and push that one would expect from such a collision, only to get out of their cars and find nobody lying on the road. Other drivers report hitting Mary, only to have her pass through the car and either vanish or run into the cemetery.
Most sightings are reported in the winter months, and at least one source claims that they are most likely to occur around 1:30 AM, the closing time of the O Henry Ballroom in 1934. She is a blond woman, always seen in a white dress, wearing dance shoes, and carrying a clutch-style purse.
On one occasion, in 1976, a cab driver reportedly saw a woman locked in the cemetery at night and reported this to the police, figuring that they could help her get out. When police officers arrived to help, they discovered the bars bent, and scorch marks that bore a resemblance to hand prints covering the bent bars. The cemetery explained that these were due to a work truck having hit the bars, and the truck's driver having used a blow torch to soften the bars in an attempt to bend them back into place. Regardless, the story became a media sensation.
Over time, a story explaining Mary's origins has developed. According to the story, she and her boyfriend were out dancing one winter's night in the early 1930s. They had a fight, and Mary decided to walk home. Along the way, she was struck and killed by a hit-and-run driver, and subsequently buried in Resurrection Cemetery. Ever since then, she has reportedly wandered the roads and ballrooms, looking for both a dance partner and a ride home.
*Really, what the hell kind of name for a cemetery is "Resurrection"? That's like naming a dry desert "China Lake"...oh, wait, that's been done, too.**
**Yes, I know that it's a dried pluvial lake bed.
Commentary: The guys at Hometown Tales are fond of pointing out that every urban legend occurs in multiple locations. While this is certainly true, Chicago's version of The Vanishing Hitchhiker is probably the world's best known version.
Stories of ghostly hitchhikers date back to antiquity, where they are picked up by a wagon or chariot rather than a car. Chicago appears to have a tradition of vanishing hitchhikers dating back at least to the 19th century. However, in the 1930s, tales of a ghostly woman associated with Resurrection Cemetery began to surface. Initially, the ghostly woman simply tried to jump onto the running boards of passing cars, but the tale of the vanishing hitchhiker named Mary soon developed.
The origin story appears to have appended to explain the ghost story, rather than being an original part. The identity of Mary, and whether or not her name really is Mary, is never clear. It is often suggested that Resurrection Mary may be the ghost of Mary Bregovy. Bregovy apparently would fit the bill in many regards, but while she was killed in a car accident, it occurred when she was thrown through the window during a collision in downtown Chicago. Likely, the stories of the ghostly hitchhiker began to surface, and they were later linked with the story of Bregovy's death.
Regardless of the story's origin, Mary has become one of the most-sighted ghosts around, and people routinely tell tales of encountering her. Sometimes the stories are as simple as seeing a mysterious woman vanish near the cemetery, and sometimes as complex as an evening of dancing and conversation followed by a ride home during which Mary vanishes or jumps out of the moving car and walks through the closed cemetery gates.
As a bit of a bonus, here's a video clip on the Vanishing Hitchhiker urban legend:
Sources: Prairie Ghosts,Internet, Internet, Internet
Sometimes the encounters are more disturbing. Numerous people have reported hitting a young woman, complete with the thud and push that one would expect from such a collision, only to get out of their cars and find nobody lying on the road. Other drivers report hitting Mary, only to have her pass through the car and either vanish or run into the cemetery.
Most sightings are reported in the winter months, and at least one source claims that they are most likely to occur around 1:30 AM, the closing time of the O Henry Ballroom in 1934. She is a blond woman, always seen in a white dress, wearing dance shoes, and carrying a clutch-style purse.
On one occasion, in 1976, a cab driver reportedly saw a woman locked in the cemetery at night and reported this to the police, figuring that they could help her get out. When police officers arrived to help, they discovered the bars bent, and scorch marks that bore a resemblance to hand prints covering the bent bars. The cemetery explained that these were due to a work truck having hit the bars, and the truck's driver having used a blow torch to soften the bars in an attempt to bend them back into place. Regardless, the story became a media sensation.
Over time, a story explaining Mary's origins has developed. According to the story, she and her boyfriend were out dancing one winter's night in the early 1930s. They had a fight, and Mary decided to walk home. Along the way, she was struck and killed by a hit-and-run driver, and subsequently buried in Resurrection Cemetery. Ever since then, she has reportedly wandered the roads and ballrooms, looking for both a dance partner and a ride home.
*Really, what the hell kind of name for a cemetery is "Resurrection"? That's like naming a dry desert "China Lake"...oh, wait, that's been done, too.**
**Yes, I know that it's a dried pluvial lake bed.
Commentary: The guys at Hometown Tales are fond of pointing out that every urban legend occurs in multiple locations. While this is certainly true, Chicago's version of The Vanishing Hitchhiker is probably the world's best known version.
Stories of ghostly hitchhikers date back to antiquity, where they are picked up by a wagon or chariot rather than a car. Chicago appears to have a tradition of vanishing hitchhikers dating back at least to the 19th century. However, in the 1930s, tales of a ghostly woman associated with Resurrection Cemetery began to surface. Initially, the ghostly woman simply tried to jump onto the running boards of passing cars, but the tale of the vanishing hitchhiker named Mary soon developed.
The origin story appears to have appended to explain the ghost story, rather than being an original part. The identity of Mary, and whether or not her name really is Mary, is never clear. It is often suggested that Resurrection Mary may be the ghost of Mary Bregovy. Bregovy apparently would fit the bill in many regards, but while she was killed in a car accident, it occurred when she was thrown through the window during a collision in downtown Chicago. Likely, the stories of the ghostly hitchhiker began to surface, and they were later linked with the story of Bregovy's death.
Regardless of the story's origin, Mary has become one of the most-sighted ghosts around, and people routinely tell tales of encountering her. Sometimes the stories are as simple as seeing a mysterious woman vanish near the cemetery, and sometimes as complex as an evening of dancing and conversation followed by a ride home during which Mary vanishes or jumps out of the moving car and walks through the closed cemetery gates.
As a bit of a bonus, here's a video clip on the Vanishing Hitchhiker urban legend:
Sources: Prairie Ghosts,Internet, Internet, Internet
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