Monday, September 30, 2013
The first month
When I first launched the new version of the site, part of my goal, as mentioned, was to dump the contents of James A. Sheets' original "Ghosts of Ohio" site from Greenapple here, to give it a place to live. The first page of his site, coincidentally, had just enough stories to give me content for the first month. I really hope you've enjoyed these stories, but I am getting close to needing to find a new source for content. (Don't panic just yet. There's about two more weeks' worth of posts on the original site!) If you have any stories to add, or additions or corrections (or photos) for anything already posted or to come, please email me at wintermute@nitemarecafe.com. I look forward to hearing from you soon!
Thursday, September 26, 2013
The Dark Angel
As told by Andrea *
(Last name withheld by request)
In Erie County there is a old graveyard that has the now ruined statue of an angel who stands guard over the graves placed in her charge long ago. There are two versions to the legend.
As one version of the story goes, a mother sometime in the early 1900's took the life of her young daughter. Stricken by terrible grief the family had the statue of a larger than life angel erected over the child's grave. The statue is slightly larger than a full grown man, with a melancholy expression on it's face. The eyes of the angel would appear to follow you no matter where you moved as if it were alive.
A few years after her daughter's death, the mother in a fit of sorrow took her own life. She was buried in a grave next to her daughter under the watchful eye of the lifeless stone guardian. It was shortly after her death that strange unexplainable things began to occur. Local cattle and livestock near the cemetery were being found slaughtered in a horrible fashion. Quickly attention focused on the statue over looking the mother and daughter's graves, as the hands and mouth of the angel appeared to covered in blood. The local people began to whisper that the evil spirit of the mother was condemned to live for eternity in the statute as punishment for her sins, and it was her vengeful spirit which stalked and slew their animals in an attempt to quell her rage. It was also rumored that if you climbed up on to the angel's back she would give a ride through hell.
After weeks of butchered animals being found in the fields, and rumors running rampant through the community, the locals authorities had finally had enough. They entered the graveyard and sawed off the statute's hands and wings. After this the killing of the livestock ceased. The angel now flightless had to remain in the cemetery. Shortly there after visitors to the graveyard noticed that rusty streaks marks appeared on the angel's face running down the cheeks from the watchful eyes. The local wives tales said that it was the tormented soul of the mother weeping for her sins.
....................
The second version of the story claims that the graves beneath the angel are those of two sisters named Lydia and Alice. It is the spirit of Alice that is suppose to live in the statue, but the reason why is not given. The reason for the statue's disfigurement is as follows. In the early 1900's a cholera epidemic swept through the area. It sadly took it's heaviest toll on the young children. Bereaved mothers would enter the cemetery at night and lay their dead babies in the angel's outstretched arms, and implore her to take their souls to heaven. A local parson found out about the practice and declared that it was blasphemous and evil. He convinced his flock that it was the angel whom roamed about a night stealing the souls of their children and taking them to hell. It was then that the good people entered the cemetery and removed the hands and clipped the angel's wings.
It is considered bad luck to be disrespectful or damage the statue now days. A group of boys elected to go and torment the angel to see if the legend was true not to long ago. They decided to do this by vandalizing the statue. All the boys involved in this stunt were supposedly killed in a terrible car accident, except the one who remained in the car while the other were desecrating the graveyard.
Another tried the popular trick of placing a tape recorder at the base of the statue, and coming back later to pick it up. He was floored when during the first few minutes of the recording when a womans voice was heard to say "You with receive no harm."
The location of this site is in Erie County west of Vermilion, Ohio. Go west on State Route 2 to Route 60 and then head south. A few miles down the road you will run into Mason Road, turn right to Maple Grove Cemetery a few miles down the road. The angel sits far back into the cemetery under a tree. Vandals have since removed the angel's head I am told. The grave of Lydia shows she died in 1926 and Alice in 1918.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
(Last name withheld by request)
In Erie County there is a old graveyard that has the now ruined statue of an angel who stands guard over the graves placed in her charge long ago. There are two versions to the legend.
As one version of the story goes, a mother sometime in the early 1900's took the life of her young daughter. Stricken by terrible grief the family had the statue of a larger than life angel erected over the child's grave. The statue is slightly larger than a full grown man, with a melancholy expression on it's face. The eyes of the angel would appear to follow you no matter where you moved as if it were alive.
A few years after her daughter's death, the mother in a fit of sorrow took her own life. She was buried in a grave next to her daughter under the watchful eye of the lifeless stone guardian. It was shortly after her death that strange unexplainable things began to occur. Local cattle and livestock near the cemetery were being found slaughtered in a horrible fashion. Quickly attention focused on the statue over looking the mother and daughter's graves, as the hands and mouth of the angel appeared to covered in blood. The local people began to whisper that the evil spirit of the mother was condemned to live for eternity in the statute as punishment for her sins, and it was her vengeful spirit which stalked and slew their animals in an attempt to quell her rage. It was also rumored that if you climbed up on to the angel's back she would give a ride through hell.
After weeks of butchered animals being found in the fields, and rumors running rampant through the community, the locals authorities had finally had enough. They entered the graveyard and sawed off the statute's hands and wings. After this the killing of the livestock ceased. The angel now flightless had to remain in the cemetery. Shortly there after visitors to the graveyard noticed that rusty streaks marks appeared on the angel's face running down the cheeks from the watchful eyes. The local wives tales said that it was the tormented soul of the mother weeping for her sins.
....................
The second version of the story claims that the graves beneath the angel are those of two sisters named Lydia and Alice. It is the spirit of Alice that is suppose to live in the statue, but the reason why is not given. The reason for the statue's disfigurement is as follows. In the early 1900's a cholera epidemic swept through the area. It sadly took it's heaviest toll on the young children. Bereaved mothers would enter the cemetery at night and lay their dead babies in the angel's outstretched arms, and implore her to take their souls to heaven. A local parson found out about the practice and declared that it was blasphemous and evil. He convinced his flock that it was the angel whom roamed about a night stealing the souls of their children and taking them to hell. It was then that the good people entered the cemetery and removed the hands and clipped the angel's wings.
It is considered bad luck to be disrespectful or damage the statue now days. A group of boys elected to go and torment the angel to see if the legend was true not to long ago. They decided to do this by vandalizing the statue. All the boys involved in this stunt were supposedly killed in a terrible car accident, except the one who remained in the car while the other were desecrating the graveyard.
Another tried the popular trick of placing a tape recorder at the base of the statue, and coming back later to pick it up. He was floored when during the first few minutes of the recording when a womans voice was heard to say "You with receive no harm."
The location of this site is in Erie County west of Vermilion, Ohio. Go west on State Route 2 to Route 60 and then head south. A few miles down the road you will run into Mason Road, turn right to Maple Grove Cemetery a few miles down the road. The angel sits far back into the cemetery under a tree. Vandals have since removed the angel's head I am told. The grave of Lydia shows she died in 1926 and Alice in 1918.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
A Poltergeist Tale
*Source anonymous by request.
(Names of actual individuals have been changed)
Paul and his fiancee Gwyn, and their friend April were excited as they moved into the second story of an elderly home on Brown Street in Athens, Ohio. It was mid-June and as expected the temperatures where climbing into the upper eighties. The windows in the home had been sealed shut by repeated coats of paint, and since there wasn't any air conditioning, getting these open became a priority. Everyone in the house was working in separate rooms when Paul heard a loud crash. Coming to the conclusion that one of the others has freed one of the windows and let it slip causing the glass to break, he went to investigate. Meeting Gwyn who had also heard the noise they failed to discover it's source. The few windows that had been opened by the group remained open. April and another friend who was helping the trio claimed they had heard nothing. The group dismissed the incident as a fluke. (It should be noted that the downstairs apartment was at this time was unoccupied.)
A few days after the above incident Paul was awakened several nights in a row by what sounded like someone walking about on the roof of the house. Paul convinced himself that it was most likely a stray cat moving about on the top of the house, and at this point did not feel that anything was amiss with the house.
It was when Gwyn who worked just down the street from the house came home for lunch one day, that something occurred that convinced them that something was wrong with their new home. It was a normal weekday and the upstairs apartment was vacant as Gwyn came home for lunch. As she unlocked the door to the apartment she heard the sound of someone running up the stairs on the other side of the door. This was followed by an unholy racket coming from the apartment's interior. Thinking that Paul had come home early, she ran up the steps calling his name. It was then that she remembered that the driveway to the house was devoid of any cars. Feeling some what frightened she ascended the stairs, and conducted a quick search of the apartment's rooms and closets. The house was empty, but in the kitchen she found the source of the noise she had hear earlier. The dry-ease board and all of the magnets which had been on the side of the refrigerator were scattered in a heap on the kitchen floor.
Sometime later when Paul and Gwyn were out of town, April was at home by herself and was listening to one of her favorite audio tapes. While she lay on her bed listening to the familiar words of the song, she realized that someone was singing along with music on the tape. Sitting upright and opening her eyes the singing voice ceased. April replayed the tape thinking maybe one of her roommates had pulled a prank on her by dubbing over the tape. The tape played fine, and minus the unseen voice. April was so disturbed that she phoned a friend who had to come over and spend the rest of the night with her.
The trio still occupies their new home and hope they can come to grips with their unseen guest.
The location of the site is as mentioned is Athens, Ohio. The person who submitted the story wishes the exact location to remain unpublished.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
(Names of actual individuals have been changed)
Paul and his fiancee Gwyn, and their friend April were excited as they moved into the second story of an elderly home on Brown Street in Athens, Ohio. It was mid-June and as expected the temperatures where climbing into the upper eighties. The windows in the home had been sealed shut by repeated coats of paint, and since there wasn't any air conditioning, getting these open became a priority. Everyone in the house was working in separate rooms when Paul heard a loud crash. Coming to the conclusion that one of the others has freed one of the windows and let it slip causing the glass to break, he went to investigate. Meeting Gwyn who had also heard the noise they failed to discover it's source. The few windows that had been opened by the group remained open. April and another friend who was helping the trio claimed they had heard nothing. The group dismissed the incident as a fluke. (It should be noted that the downstairs apartment was at this time was unoccupied.)
A few days after the above incident Paul was awakened several nights in a row by what sounded like someone walking about on the roof of the house. Paul convinced himself that it was most likely a stray cat moving about on the top of the house, and at this point did not feel that anything was amiss with the house.
It was when Gwyn who worked just down the street from the house came home for lunch one day, that something occurred that convinced them that something was wrong with their new home. It was a normal weekday and the upstairs apartment was vacant as Gwyn came home for lunch. As she unlocked the door to the apartment she heard the sound of someone running up the stairs on the other side of the door. This was followed by an unholy racket coming from the apartment's interior. Thinking that Paul had come home early, she ran up the steps calling his name. It was then that she remembered that the driveway to the house was devoid of any cars. Feeling some what frightened she ascended the stairs, and conducted a quick search of the apartment's rooms and closets. The house was empty, but in the kitchen she found the source of the noise she had hear earlier. The dry-ease board and all of the magnets which had been on the side of the refrigerator were scattered in a heap on the kitchen floor.
Sometime later when Paul and Gwyn were out of town, April was at home by herself and was listening to one of her favorite audio tapes. While she lay on her bed listening to the familiar words of the song, she realized that someone was singing along with music on the tape. Sitting upright and opening her eyes the singing voice ceased. April replayed the tape thinking maybe one of her roommates had pulled a prank on her by dubbing over the tape. The tape played fine, and minus the unseen voice. April was so disturbed that she phoned a friend who had to come over and spend the rest of the night with her.
The trio still occupies their new home and hope they can come to grips with their unseen guest.
The location of the site is as mentioned is Athens, Ohio. The person who submitted the story wishes the exact location to remain unpublished.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
The Burning House
*Source anonymous by request.
On one spring evening of 1997 a mother and her twelve year old son were making a routine trip into town to run some errands. As they approached an intersection and prepared to make the turn which would lead them into town, the boy's sharp eyes noticed an ominous glow emanating from across the road. Pointing this out to his mother, he urged her to go straight. Now noticing the glow for herself which resembled the halo of a large fire, she did as her son asked and headed straight on. Traveling only a short distance down the country road the glow turned out to be a two story house that was enveloped in flames. The mother was horrified at the sight. Flames were shooting out of the second story windows, and smoke was billowing from the lower windows and doors of the house up past the pillars on the front porch. Frantically the mother pushed the car's accelerator to the floor, urging the vehicle to move faster down the road. Her only desire was to rush to the aid of the poor family who's house was being consumed by a maelstrom of flame. The engine's howl was joined by the sound of the wind whipping though the car's windows, and rocks flying from the tires. The car plunged down into a depression in the road momentarily blocking the view of the burning structure. Hurtling up on the opposite side of the dip in the road both mother and son where shocked, and dumfounded at what they saw. The house had vanished completely, along with the ominous glow, sparks, smoke, everything!
Stopping in the middle of the road both mother and son attempted to gather their wits. Doing a reality check the mother realized that she had lived in the area for over seven years, and drove this very section of road at least twice a day. The area where she and her son had seen the burning house, had always been nothing but an empty field! Never the less both she and her son were sure of what they had seen. Rolling the windows down on the car they both attempted to see if they could smell smoke, or hear the sounds of approaching emergency vehicles. Nothing! Still not convinced they drove around the area to higher ground, but never regained visual contact with the burning home. It was as if the house had never existed at all.
Returning home the mother attempted to come to grips with what she had seen. She was tempted to call the fire department, but did not. The next day she scanned the local newspaper looking for any reports of fires in the area. Once again, nothing! A friend that she related the story to had traveled the same road within an hour of her trip, and had seen nothing!
Returning to the sight in full daylight sometime later, the mother questioned the elderly gentleman who farmed the land. He claimed that he had no memory of any house ever sitting on the spot where she had seen the burning house. Nor had he ever heard his parents ever mention such a structure. He did offer the strange fact of that once when plowing the area in question he had overturned a headstone of seven to eight year old boy who had died sometime in the 1800's of the last name McCoy. A check of local historical archives revealed nothing to the mother's dismay. Both her and her son are left to ponder at what exactly it was they had seen. Some have suggested that it might have been a trick of the setting sun, or a mirage. Both mother and son stand firm on what they saw that one spring evening to this day, a home engulfed in raging flames.
The location of this sighting is in Ross county just outside of Kingston, Ohio. The individual who submitted this tale has asked that the exact location not be published out of courtesy to the gentleman who owns the property.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
On one spring evening of 1997 a mother and her twelve year old son were making a routine trip into town to run some errands. As they approached an intersection and prepared to make the turn which would lead them into town, the boy's sharp eyes noticed an ominous glow emanating from across the road. Pointing this out to his mother, he urged her to go straight. Now noticing the glow for herself which resembled the halo of a large fire, she did as her son asked and headed straight on. Traveling only a short distance down the country road the glow turned out to be a two story house that was enveloped in flames. The mother was horrified at the sight. Flames were shooting out of the second story windows, and smoke was billowing from the lower windows and doors of the house up past the pillars on the front porch. Frantically the mother pushed the car's accelerator to the floor, urging the vehicle to move faster down the road. Her only desire was to rush to the aid of the poor family who's house was being consumed by a maelstrom of flame. The engine's howl was joined by the sound of the wind whipping though the car's windows, and rocks flying from the tires. The car plunged down into a depression in the road momentarily blocking the view of the burning structure. Hurtling up on the opposite side of the dip in the road both mother and son where shocked, and dumfounded at what they saw. The house had vanished completely, along with the ominous glow, sparks, smoke, everything!
Stopping in the middle of the road both mother and son attempted to gather their wits. Doing a reality check the mother realized that she had lived in the area for over seven years, and drove this very section of road at least twice a day. The area where she and her son had seen the burning house, had always been nothing but an empty field! Never the less both she and her son were sure of what they had seen. Rolling the windows down on the car they both attempted to see if they could smell smoke, or hear the sounds of approaching emergency vehicles. Nothing! Still not convinced they drove around the area to higher ground, but never regained visual contact with the burning home. It was as if the house had never existed at all.
Returning home the mother attempted to come to grips with what she had seen. She was tempted to call the fire department, but did not. The next day she scanned the local newspaper looking for any reports of fires in the area. Once again, nothing! A friend that she related the story to had traveled the same road within an hour of her trip, and had seen nothing!
Returning to the sight in full daylight sometime later, the mother questioned the elderly gentleman who farmed the land. He claimed that he had no memory of any house ever sitting on the spot where she had seen the burning house. Nor had he ever heard his parents ever mention such a structure. He did offer the strange fact of that once when plowing the area in question he had overturned a headstone of seven to eight year old boy who had died sometime in the 1800's of the last name McCoy. A check of local historical archives revealed nothing to the mother's dismay. Both her and her son are left to ponder at what exactly it was they had seen. Some have suggested that it might have been a trick of the setting sun, or a mirage. Both mother and son stand firm on what they saw that one spring evening to this day, a home engulfed in raging flames.
The location of this sighting is in Ross county just outside of Kingston, Ohio. The individual who submitted this tale has asked that the exact location not be published out of courtesy to the gentleman who owns the property.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Monday, September 23, 2013
The Haunted Cellar
As told by Beth Scott and Michael Norman in the Haunted Heartland
[affiliate link]
In the November of 1957 a young music student Thomas Todd and his wife moved into apartment in Cleveland. It wasn't the greatest of places, but affordable. The young couple's stay would be a short one. They would flee the apartment in the March of 1958 never to return.
It seems that from the very start they were awakened at night by strange screams, and erie moans which seemed to emanate from the cellar of the apartment. Finally after months of this Thomas's young eighteen year old wife Geraldine was home by herself one afternoon, and decided to investigate what was making the sounds. Descending into the basement she found the old furnace surrounded by rubbish, and pieces of broken furniture. Then to her horror she saw a twisted and bloody human hand sticking up out of the pile of refuse. Geraldine stampeded back up the stairs, and collapsed into a chair where she spent most of the day crying until her husband returned home. After he had calmed his wife down she began to prepare their evening supper. While she was standing on the trap door which lead to the cellar, it heaved up and threw the poor woman on to the floor. Mr. Todd charged down the steps to confront the intruder to their home. He found nothing but the huge rubbish pile his wife had described. Returning upstairs, he nailed down the door to the cellar. The next day Mr. and Mrs. Todd moved out of the apartment to a local hotel.
Several of the couple's friends and neighbors were skeptical of their story. On March 31st they returned to the apartment with their friends in tow. This group of people gathered in the kitchen and stood around waiting for something to happen. They did not have to wait long as the trap door to the cellar heaved up with such force the wood bent from the blows, and the nails were loosened and bent. Everyone at this time rushed to safety into the living room. Several were horrified to see bloody fingers squirming from the cracks just made in the trap door. That was it for everyone and they all made a hasty retreat from the structure. The Todd's called the police who made a search of the building and found nothing out of order, except for the forced trap door. One officer later said he heard what sounded like someone shoveling dirt in the cellar, but wasn't sure. The police tried to assure Mr. Todd and his wife that everything was fine, and that they could return home. They flatly refused, and moved to better quarters.
Years later Thomas returned to the old neighborhood and spoke with a former neighbor about the place. She confided in him that it was the right thing for him to have moved out of the place. She related to him that in the years before he had occupied the apartment, it had been rented out to a couple who would have the most terrible quarrels. Rumor had it that the husband had killed his wife, and then buried her in the cellar. But after all this was only rumor, and the police had never been called to investigate the allegations.
In 1963 the famous ghost hunter Hans Holzer came to investigate the place. Entering into the abandoned building in the company of a local reporter the smell of decay, rot, and urine exploded on to their senses. Moving though the house some movement attracted the men's attention. Swinging a flashlight into the vacant room they discover a duo of winos who were sleeping of some of the local rot gut who promptly vacated the structure. Mr. Holzer insisted that the place was haunted by the ghost of a murdered woman named Edna, and that she was indeed buried in the basement of the house. No one ever bother to enter the structure for the purpose of investigating if Mr. Holzer was correct.
The location of this haunting is recorded as 4207 Mason Court S.E. in Cleveland, Ohio. It is suppose to be in a more run down part of town. I am not even sure if the building is still standing. If anyone out there has this information, or a photo of the place, please contact me at the following e-mail address.jas1746@greenapple.com [Editor's note: That email is long defunct. Email me at wintermute@nitemarecafe.com instead of the original author.]
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
[affiliate link]In the November of 1957 a young music student Thomas Todd and his wife moved into apartment in Cleveland. It wasn't the greatest of places, but affordable. The young couple's stay would be a short one. They would flee the apartment in the March of 1958 never to return.
It seems that from the very start they were awakened at night by strange screams, and erie moans which seemed to emanate from the cellar of the apartment. Finally after months of this Thomas's young eighteen year old wife Geraldine was home by herself one afternoon, and decided to investigate what was making the sounds. Descending into the basement she found the old furnace surrounded by rubbish, and pieces of broken furniture. Then to her horror she saw a twisted and bloody human hand sticking up out of the pile of refuse. Geraldine stampeded back up the stairs, and collapsed into a chair where she spent most of the day crying until her husband returned home. After he had calmed his wife down she began to prepare their evening supper. While she was standing on the trap door which lead to the cellar, it heaved up and threw the poor woman on to the floor. Mr. Todd charged down the steps to confront the intruder to their home. He found nothing but the huge rubbish pile his wife had described. Returning upstairs, he nailed down the door to the cellar. The next day Mr. and Mrs. Todd moved out of the apartment to a local hotel.
Several of the couple's friends and neighbors were skeptical of their story. On March 31st they returned to the apartment with their friends in tow. This group of people gathered in the kitchen and stood around waiting for something to happen. They did not have to wait long as the trap door to the cellar heaved up with such force the wood bent from the blows, and the nails were loosened and bent. Everyone at this time rushed to safety into the living room. Several were horrified to see bloody fingers squirming from the cracks just made in the trap door. That was it for everyone and they all made a hasty retreat from the structure. The Todd's called the police who made a search of the building and found nothing out of order, except for the forced trap door. One officer later said he heard what sounded like someone shoveling dirt in the cellar, but wasn't sure. The police tried to assure Mr. Todd and his wife that everything was fine, and that they could return home. They flatly refused, and moved to better quarters.
Years later Thomas returned to the old neighborhood and spoke with a former neighbor about the place. She confided in him that it was the right thing for him to have moved out of the place. She related to him that in the years before he had occupied the apartment, it had been rented out to a couple who would have the most terrible quarrels. Rumor had it that the husband had killed his wife, and then buried her in the cellar. But after all this was only rumor, and the police had never been called to investigate the allegations.
In 1963 the famous ghost hunter Hans Holzer came to investigate the place. Entering into the abandoned building in the company of a local reporter the smell of decay, rot, and urine exploded on to their senses. Moving though the house some movement attracted the men's attention. Swinging a flashlight into the vacant room they discover a duo of winos who were sleeping of some of the local rot gut who promptly vacated the structure. Mr. Holzer insisted that the place was haunted by the ghost of a murdered woman named Edna, and that she was indeed buried in the basement of the house. No one ever bother to enter the structure for the purpose of investigating if Mr. Holzer was correct.
The location of this haunting is recorded as 4207 Mason Court S.E. in Cleveland, Ohio. It is suppose to be in a more run down part of town. I am not even sure if the building is still standing. If anyone out there has this information, or a photo of the place, please contact me at the following e-mail address.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Friday, September 20, 2013
The Ghostly School Boy
As told by Chris Woodyard in Haunted Ohio II
[affiliate link], and the Lancaster Eagle Gazette.
Ghosts of children to me can often be the most disturbing apparitions of all. Children are suppose to be things of delight ,and merriment, not trapped in some sort of limbo.
The following tale takes place at Amanda Clearcreek Schools in Fairfield County. It seems that a school counselor named Jim Flaningan had just finished his last day of work at the school, and had stayed after to finish up some unfinished paperwork. After an hour or so of work, Jim elected to go and exercise in the gym. After a short walk to the gym he arrived, and began to jog around the room. He had only been jogging a few minutes, or so when he noticed a boy of about fifteen years of age standing on the stage watching him.
Jim waved at the boy, and called hello to him as he continued to jog about the room. The boy never responded, but just continued to watch the man as he ran around the gym area. Several more times the counselor ran around the room, and each time the strange boy was there watching him from the stage. In the fading light of the day, Jim could see him clearly as he came around for another pass. The boy was standing near the stage curtain smiling. The clothes he was wearing, and hair cut which he had appeared to be very out of date. His blue jean bibs being the kind that buttoned diagonally across the shoulder, and a page boy style of hair cut.
Jim knew just about every kid in the school, but could not recall ever seeing this one. He increased the speed of his run, and made for the stage. The boy seeing his rapid approach, turned and walked behind the curtain. Jim reached the curtain seconds later to find that the boy had vanished. He checked, and found the back door to the stage locked and secured. By now the light in the gym was growing dim in the fading daylight, so Jim turned on all of the gym and stage lights. He then conducted a search of the area, which revealed nothing. Disturbed he called the assistant principal, and the local county sheriff.
Together they conducted a search of the school top to bottom which revealed no intruder of any kind. They also found no sign of forced entry into the structure. Soon the school's janitor joined the men in their search. Jim commented that he thought that the boy might have been bare footed since he heard no footsteps from behind the stage curtain when the boy had fled. The school's janitor who had been talking quite a bit suddenly clamed up, and never left the counselor's side from that point on. He was asked if he ever had seen anything strange when he was in the school at night by himself. The janitor replied that he had not, and appeared to be very disturbed.
Jim later on had the chance to query the janitor's son about his father's work. He was told that the janitor never liked working in the school late after hours. It seems he always felt like someone, or something was watching him in the empty school building.
Jim still works in the educational system, but not in Fairfield County. Other faculty members have stated that the story is based on a real break in that occurred, and has evolved into a ghost story. I for one doubt this, as I really don't think it would have been a wise career move on Mr. Flaningan's part, to bring in the local law enforcement to check out a local fairy tale.
Amanda Clearcreek School is located in Amanda just off of U.S. 22 to the west of Lancaster, Ohio. I must once again point out that it is a crime to be on school grounds after normal hours without the consent of the school.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
[affiliate link], and the Lancaster Eagle Gazette.Ghosts of children to me can often be the most disturbing apparitions of all. Children are suppose to be things of delight ,and merriment, not trapped in some sort of limbo.
The following tale takes place at Amanda Clearcreek Schools in Fairfield County. It seems that a school counselor named Jim Flaningan had just finished his last day of work at the school, and had stayed after to finish up some unfinished paperwork. After an hour or so of work, Jim elected to go and exercise in the gym. After a short walk to the gym he arrived, and began to jog around the room. He had only been jogging a few minutes, or so when he noticed a boy of about fifteen years of age standing on the stage watching him.
Jim waved at the boy, and called hello to him as he continued to jog about the room. The boy never responded, but just continued to watch the man as he ran around the gym area. Several more times the counselor ran around the room, and each time the strange boy was there watching him from the stage. In the fading light of the day, Jim could see him clearly as he came around for another pass. The boy was standing near the stage curtain smiling. The clothes he was wearing, and hair cut which he had appeared to be very out of date. His blue jean bibs being the kind that buttoned diagonally across the shoulder, and a page boy style of hair cut.
Jim knew just about every kid in the school, but could not recall ever seeing this one. He increased the speed of his run, and made for the stage. The boy seeing his rapid approach, turned and walked behind the curtain. Jim reached the curtain seconds later to find that the boy had vanished. He checked, and found the back door to the stage locked and secured. By now the light in the gym was growing dim in the fading daylight, so Jim turned on all of the gym and stage lights. He then conducted a search of the area, which revealed nothing. Disturbed he called the assistant principal, and the local county sheriff.
Together they conducted a search of the school top to bottom which revealed no intruder of any kind. They also found no sign of forced entry into the structure. Soon the school's janitor joined the men in their search. Jim commented that he thought that the boy might have been bare footed since he heard no footsteps from behind the stage curtain when the boy had fled. The school's janitor who had been talking quite a bit suddenly clamed up, and never left the counselor's side from that point on. He was asked if he ever had seen anything strange when he was in the school at night by himself. The janitor replied that he had not, and appeared to be very disturbed.
Jim later on had the chance to query the janitor's son about his father's work. He was told that the janitor never liked working in the school late after hours. It seems he always felt like someone, or something was watching him in the empty school building.
Jim still works in the educational system, but not in Fairfield County. Other faculty members have stated that the story is based on a real break in that occurred, and has evolved into a ghost story. I for one doubt this, as I really don't think it would have been a wise career move on Mr. Flaningan's part, to bring in the local law enforcement to check out a local fairy tale.
Amanda Clearcreek School is located in Amanda just off of U.S. 22 to the west of Lancaster, Ohio. I must once again point out that it is a crime to be on school grounds after normal hours without the consent of the school.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
The Mystery Walker
As told by Randy Hughes.
This is a story of a late evening encounter in Lancaster, Ohio. My wife and I had finished dinner at the Trader Cafe on Columbus St. We were dating at this time, and wanted to find somewhere to eat on this late Thursday evening.
We had finished our dinner, and paid our bill. We walked out of the cafe, and turned to the left. Coming out of the cafe you have to walk out a bit, and look both ways on the sidewalk to make sure that no one is coming. I stepped out and looked both ways. Nobody was there either way, so we turned left and headed down one block to where our car was parked.
It was getting dark and I was being pretty cautious of the surroundings, so I looked behind us. I did not see a single person on the sidewalk, or the street. Not a second sooner did this tall man with long hair come walking very swiftly beside us. I did not even hear him coming. He passed us with out making a sound. He was a very tall man and medium built. The man continued pass us, and turned the corner going left around a building. My wife and I probably took a matter of 15 seconds to reach the very same corner as this man. I looked left, and there was no sight of him. I looked at my wife and she looked at me. We both said where in the world could this person have gone. There was no doors for him to go into, nor anyway he could have ran without us hearing him.
This man was no where to be seen on either side of the street. It was a real scary feeling, we both hurried to our car which was 20 feet away. Still there was no sign of the tall man. My wife does not believe in ghosts, but if you are the only two people on the sidewalk at night, and you have looked up and down the street seeing no one. Then out of the thin air comes this man, and he does not make a sound, not even while he walked passed us. He had dingo boots on which do make noise when you walk with them on. Then he vanishes around the corner of a building within a matter of second.
The entrance at the rear of the Trader Cafe in Lancaster, Ohio.
The front of the cafe where the silent man walked past the late night patrons and into oblivion..
I have left this one pretty much as the author sent it to me. I have not heard of this ever happening before in this area. I would love to hear from anyone else who thinks they might have seen this solitary pedestrian. I have had someone e-mail and state that the man described by Randy resembles one of the locals who lives nearby. This would not explain the man's sudden appearance, or his silent walk. The location is of course the Trader's Cafe 416 N. Columbus St. Lancaster, Ohio. Look over your shoulder often!
This post, including commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheet's site.
This is a story of a late evening encounter in Lancaster, Ohio. My wife and I had finished dinner at the Trader Cafe on Columbus St. We were dating at this time, and wanted to find somewhere to eat on this late Thursday evening.
We had finished our dinner, and paid our bill. We walked out of the cafe, and turned to the left. Coming out of the cafe you have to walk out a bit, and look both ways on the sidewalk to make sure that no one is coming. I stepped out and looked both ways. Nobody was there either way, so we turned left and headed down one block to where our car was parked.
It was getting dark and I was being pretty cautious of the surroundings, so I looked behind us. I did not see a single person on the sidewalk, or the street. Not a second sooner did this tall man with long hair come walking very swiftly beside us. I did not even hear him coming. He passed us with out making a sound. He was a very tall man and medium built. The man continued pass us, and turned the corner going left around a building. My wife and I probably took a matter of 15 seconds to reach the very same corner as this man. I looked left, and there was no sight of him. I looked at my wife and she looked at me. We both said where in the world could this person have gone. There was no doors for him to go into, nor anyway he could have ran without us hearing him.
This man was no where to be seen on either side of the street. It was a real scary feeling, we both hurried to our car which was 20 feet away. Still there was no sign of the tall man. My wife does not believe in ghosts, but if you are the only two people on the sidewalk at night, and you have looked up and down the street seeing no one. Then out of the thin air comes this man, and he does not make a sound, not even while he walked passed us. He had dingo boots on which do make noise when you walk with them on. Then he vanishes around the corner of a building within a matter of second.
The entrance at the rear of the Trader Cafe in Lancaster, Ohio.
The front of the cafe where the silent man walked past the late night patrons and into oblivion..
I have left this one pretty much as the author sent it to me. I have not heard of this ever happening before in this area. I would love to hear from anyone else who thinks they might have seen this solitary pedestrian. I have had someone e-mail and state that the man described by Randy resembles one of the locals who lives nearby. This would not explain the man's sudden appearance, or his silent walk. The location is of course the Trader's Cafe 416 N. Columbus St. Lancaster, Ohio. Look over your shoulder often!
This post, including commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheet's site.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
The Bott Brother's Billiards
As told in WCMH Channel 4's "Ghosts of Columbus & Beyond".
At the turn of the century the Bott Brother's Billiards was one of the most fashionable places in town. A lively place of drink, song, and cards. Our story takes place on a cold and frigid night in February of 1909.
A blizzard had been raging for two days and the all the electricity had been knocked out. The Bott Brother's Billiards was illuminated by candle and lantern light, but otherwise it was business a usual. At the bar sat a notorious womanizer, card cheat, and knave by the name of Colonel Randolf Pritchard. The Colonel was sitting alone not by choice, but partly due to his infamous reputation. Playing himself a game of solitaire he sat there drinking, and passing the cold night away. It was shortly after 10 o'clock that the door to the saloon opened. Cold air blasted in the establishment though the open doorway. The Colonel glanced up at the entrance to the place. He saw something that made him rise up and move towards the open door.
From the entrance a woman emerged, possibly one of the many jilted lovers of the Colonel. In her upheld hand was knife. Again, and again the knife plunged into the chest of Colonel Pritchard, his arms flailing about to fend off the deadly blows. Then the knife wielding apparition dropped the blade and fled back out the door, and into the frigid night. The Colonel immediately falling down on the dirty wet floor next to the knife which had taken his life.
Several of the patrons rushed out into the street in a vain attempt to apprehend the murderess, but she had disappeared into the cold night in a coach the had passed by. The only thing to mark her passing was her dainty footprints in the snow.
Legend has it that the lady is doomed to walk the Earth forever for her heinous crime. You cannot see her, but on the night of the anniversary of the murder, if you stand outside near the clock who's hands have been frozen at 10:05 since the night of the murder, and if there is snow on the ground. You can see her footprints appear in the snow as she makes her escape for all eternity.
The saloon still stands in the same place at 162 N. High Street Columbus, Ohio. It is still open for business as far as I know. The place is known to most Columbus natives simply as "The Clock" which hands are stuck at 10:05.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
At the turn of the century the Bott Brother's Billiards was one of the most fashionable places in town. A lively place of drink, song, and cards. Our story takes place on a cold and frigid night in February of 1909.
A blizzard had been raging for two days and the all the electricity had been knocked out. The Bott Brother's Billiards was illuminated by candle and lantern light, but otherwise it was business a usual. At the bar sat a notorious womanizer, card cheat, and knave by the name of Colonel Randolf Pritchard. The Colonel was sitting alone not by choice, but partly due to his infamous reputation. Playing himself a game of solitaire he sat there drinking, and passing the cold night away. It was shortly after 10 o'clock that the door to the saloon opened. Cold air blasted in the establishment though the open doorway. The Colonel glanced up at the entrance to the place. He saw something that made him rise up and move towards the open door.
From the entrance a woman emerged, possibly one of the many jilted lovers of the Colonel. In her upheld hand was knife. Again, and again the knife plunged into the chest of Colonel Pritchard, his arms flailing about to fend off the deadly blows. Then the knife wielding apparition dropped the blade and fled back out the door, and into the frigid night. The Colonel immediately falling down on the dirty wet floor next to the knife which had taken his life.
Several of the patrons rushed out into the street in a vain attempt to apprehend the murderess, but she had disappeared into the cold night in a coach the had passed by. The only thing to mark her passing was her dainty footprints in the snow.
Legend has it that the lady is doomed to walk the Earth forever for her heinous crime. You cannot see her, but on the night of the anniversary of the murder, if you stand outside near the clock who's hands have been frozen at 10:05 since the night of the murder, and if there is snow on the ground. You can see her footprints appear in the snow as she makes her escape for all eternity.
The saloon still stands in the same place at 162 N. High Street Columbus, Ohio. It is still open for business as far as I know. The place is known to most Columbus natives simply as "The Clock" which hands are stuck at 10:05.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Tuesday, September 17, 2013
Unwelcome
As told by James A. Sheets
It is only fitting that as the caretaker of this site, that I include a tale of my own. This one concerns the former residence of my maternal grandmother on my mother's side. This was a run down two story affair, with dirty green shingle siding. The first floor held the living room, sitting room and kitchen. The second floor housed the three small bedrooms, and bath. This is the area of the house where my story takes place in the early 1970's.
I have never been afraid of the dark all my life. Hollywood can do it's worst in any of it's films, and I'll still get a good night's sleep. My mother worked nights, and as she was divorced, and I had to spend numerous evenings alone by myself. Never once was I ever scared to sleep because no one else was in the house with me, but the second story of the old house in German Village was a different story. It was a place to visited for short periods in the daytime, and avoided at all costs at night. The problem as you may have figured out on your own, is that the only toilet in the house was up there! To complicate matters, the light to the upstairs was one of those pull string affairs in the center of the upstairs hallway.
I was around 14 years old or so when my mother elected to stay late at her mother's. Around 9 P.M. or so I couldn't hold off my expanding bladder any longer, and had to ascend the dark twisting stairs to the second floor. After entering door to the stairwell, the stairs were to your left, and a door to the alley adjacent to the house was directly in front of you. The only light in the stairs was provided by light coming in from this door from the street light outside. After ten steps or so the stairs twisted to the left at 90 degrees, and this delivered you to the head of the upstairs hallway. Like a drowning man clutching at a floating piece of wood, I would grab for the drawstring to the light. Quickly I would finish the call of nature, and then begin the trip back down the steps. This was the part of the trip that I dreaded. I always felt like someone or something was glaring at me from the darkened end of the hallway. On this trip I decided that I was acting like four year old and vowed not to hurry my steps down the hallway. As I moved toward the light in the center of the hallway my fear increased. I felt like I had a set of eyes boring into the center of my back. I stopped and turned looked back to the door to the spare bedroom. There in the shadows was a five foot column of dark mist, or more like a area of air that was darker than area surrounding it. I bolted for the stairwell. I leapt to the landing mid-way in the stairwell, and then jumped to the base , shaking the whole house. My mother promptly launched into one her lectures on what a brainless child she had. I received the how my grandmother was poor, and how I was a thoughtless boy for leaving the light on upstairs later on as well.
I never again left the light on upstairs, but you would have sworn that a herd of buffalo was coming down those steps everytime that I had to use the bathroom at night. I also refused to ever sleep upstairs, and the couch became my sleeping area. I think my grandmother knew more than she was willing to let on, as she always leapt to my defense against my mother, and step grandfather everytime they scolded me for leaping down the steps. She would have the blankets on the couch every time I went to stay the night, and I will always remember her whispering "Sweet dreams my angel" before turning off the lights and going upstairs to bed.
My grandmother past away when I was sixteen years old, and my step grandfather moved to a different house there after. The house still stands on Fifth Street just off of Livingston Avenue in German Village in Franklin County. I will not publish the address, or photo of the house out of courtesy to the current occupants whom I do not know. The area is somewhat nicer than it was back in the 1970's, and the house now has beautiful brick siding. I do hope that what ever dwelt in the bedroom at the far end of the hallway has departed with the remodeling of the old house. That is for the current owner's sake. I still would not stay the night on the second floor of that house by myself without a good reason even to this day.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
It is only fitting that as the caretaker of this site, that I include a tale of my own. This one concerns the former residence of my maternal grandmother on my mother's side. This was a run down two story affair, with dirty green shingle siding. The first floor held the living room, sitting room and kitchen. The second floor housed the three small bedrooms, and bath. This is the area of the house where my story takes place in the early 1970's.
I have never been afraid of the dark all my life. Hollywood can do it's worst in any of it's films, and I'll still get a good night's sleep. My mother worked nights, and as she was divorced, and I had to spend numerous evenings alone by myself. Never once was I ever scared to sleep because no one else was in the house with me, but the second story of the old house in German Village was a different story. It was a place to visited for short periods in the daytime, and avoided at all costs at night. The problem as you may have figured out on your own, is that the only toilet in the house was up there! To complicate matters, the light to the upstairs was one of those pull string affairs in the center of the upstairs hallway.
I was around 14 years old or so when my mother elected to stay late at her mother's. Around 9 P.M. or so I couldn't hold off my expanding bladder any longer, and had to ascend the dark twisting stairs to the second floor. After entering door to the stairwell, the stairs were to your left, and a door to the alley adjacent to the house was directly in front of you. The only light in the stairs was provided by light coming in from this door from the street light outside. After ten steps or so the stairs twisted to the left at 90 degrees, and this delivered you to the head of the upstairs hallway. Like a drowning man clutching at a floating piece of wood, I would grab for the drawstring to the light. Quickly I would finish the call of nature, and then begin the trip back down the steps. This was the part of the trip that I dreaded. I always felt like someone or something was glaring at me from the darkened end of the hallway. On this trip I decided that I was acting like four year old and vowed not to hurry my steps down the hallway. As I moved toward the light in the center of the hallway my fear increased. I felt like I had a set of eyes boring into the center of my back. I stopped and turned looked back to the door to the spare bedroom. There in the shadows was a five foot column of dark mist, or more like a area of air that was darker than area surrounding it. I bolted for the stairwell. I leapt to the landing mid-way in the stairwell, and then jumped to the base , shaking the whole house. My mother promptly launched into one her lectures on what a brainless child she had. I received the how my grandmother was poor, and how I was a thoughtless boy for leaving the light on upstairs later on as well.
I never again left the light on upstairs, but you would have sworn that a herd of buffalo was coming down those steps everytime that I had to use the bathroom at night. I also refused to ever sleep upstairs, and the couch became my sleeping area. I think my grandmother knew more than she was willing to let on, as she always leapt to my defense against my mother, and step grandfather everytime they scolded me for leaping down the steps. She would have the blankets on the couch every time I went to stay the night, and I will always remember her whispering "Sweet dreams my angel" before turning off the lights and going upstairs to bed.
My grandmother past away when I was sixteen years old, and my step grandfather moved to a different house there after. The house still stands on Fifth Street just off of Livingston Avenue in German Village in Franklin County. I will not publish the address, or photo of the house out of courtesy to the current occupants whom I do not know. The area is somewhat nicer than it was back in the 1970's, and the house now has beautiful brick siding. I do hope that what ever dwelt in the bedroom at the far end of the hallway has departed with the remodeling of the old house. That is for the current owner's sake. I still would not stay the night on the second floor of that house by myself without a good reason even to this day.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Friday, September 13, 2013
A Late Night Encounter
As told by Dorothy Amling and Chris Woodyard in Haunted Ohio II[affiliate link]
This story gave me chills when I came across it, as I myself drive frequently late at night. It seems that in 1955 Dorothy's brother was driving home one foggy evening in the fall. He arrived in a state of shock. His mother had been waiting up for him and noticed his distress, and asked him what was wrong. He then related the following tale.
It seems that he had been driving down Van Wagener Road just south of London, Ohio. Near a sharp bend in the road the young man saw the figure of a woman standing in the center of the roadway. She appeared to be in need of some help as she was waving her arms and crying. The boy slowed and came to a stop. The figure of the woman then drifted to the driver's side of the boy's vehicle. When she was a mere five feet away from the rolled down window, the boy noticed in horror that she was not walking, but appeared to be floating. She also was translucent, and he could see the terrain behind her. Then the transparent lady spoke!
"I need help, please help me." the specter cried.
"What do you need?" the terrified boy replied. (How many of you would have just driven off at this point?)
"Help me , help me, I need help." the woman kept repeating.
"What's wrong?" the boy managed to ask.
The strange figure of the ethereal lady failed to answer the boy's question. Finally overcome with fear of the ghost the boy gunned the engine and sped for home.
At first the young man's family assumed that he had been drinking, but then came to the conclusion that he was telling the truth due to his shaken state. Finally after calming him down the mother convinced him to go with her back to the spot of his encounter. Arriving at the spot in the road which was only a mile and half from their house they were greeted by only silence. The place was deathly dark. Even the ramshackle house off the side of the road was dark and quiet. Then mother and son returned home.
The story does not end here though. It seems a few days later the boy's father heard the following gossip from a local sheriff's deputy. It seems that the darkened house near the boy's encounter was not unoccupied. A man and his wife lived there. They were a quiet couple and kept pretty much to themselves. The husband had reported that his wife was missing just a couple of days after the boy's encounter with the ghost. He claimed that he went to work in the fields on the day of the ghostly encounter, and when he returned his wife was gone. For some reason the man stated although he did not know were she was at, he was not alarmed until she had been gone for a few days, reasoning that he thought she would come back. A week passed before the local authorities decided to conduct a search of the man's property. His poor wife was found dead at the bottom of the couples well dressed in her white nightgown. The local corner estimated she had been dead for 6 to 7 days. Although the husband was suspected of some foul play he was never charged.
Dorothy's brother became convinced that he had encounter the poor woman's ghost just minutes after her death. No realizing she was dead her spirit wandered to the road and headlights of his car seeking for someone to help her.
The location of this encounter is Madison County south of London, Ohio between State Routse 38 and 56. The name of Van Wagener has been shortened to just Wagener now, that is according to a map which the Madison County Sheriff has posted on their website. This is located at http://www.madisonsheriff.org/jg02.jpg for those of you that are interested in finding the site.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
[affiliate link]This story gave me chills when I came across it, as I myself drive frequently late at night. It seems that in 1955 Dorothy's brother was driving home one foggy evening in the fall. He arrived in a state of shock. His mother had been waiting up for him and noticed his distress, and asked him what was wrong. He then related the following tale.
It seems that he had been driving down Van Wagener Road just south of London, Ohio. Near a sharp bend in the road the young man saw the figure of a woman standing in the center of the roadway. She appeared to be in need of some help as she was waving her arms and crying. The boy slowed and came to a stop. The figure of the woman then drifted to the driver's side of the boy's vehicle. When she was a mere five feet away from the rolled down window, the boy noticed in horror that she was not walking, but appeared to be floating. She also was translucent, and he could see the terrain behind her. Then the transparent lady spoke!
"I need help, please help me." the specter cried.
"What do you need?" the terrified boy replied. (How many of you would have just driven off at this point?)
"Help me , help me, I need help." the woman kept repeating.
"What's wrong?" the boy managed to ask.
The strange figure of the ethereal lady failed to answer the boy's question. Finally overcome with fear of the ghost the boy gunned the engine and sped for home.
At first the young man's family assumed that he had been drinking, but then came to the conclusion that he was telling the truth due to his shaken state. Finally after calming him down the mother convinced him to go with her back to the spot of his encounter. Arriving at the spot in the road which was only a mile and half from their house they were greeted by only silence. The place was deathly dark. Even the ramshackle house off the side of the road was dark and quiet. Then mother and son returned home.
The story does not end here though. It seems a few days later the boy's father heard the following gossip from a local sheriff's deputy. It seems that the darkened house near the boy's encounter was not unoccupied. A man and his wife lived there. They were a quiet couple and kept pretty much to themselves. The husband had reported that his wife was missing just a couple of days after the boy's encounter with the ghost. He claimed that he went to work in the fields on the day of the ghostly encounter, and when he returned his wife was gone. For some reason the man stated although he did not know were she was at, he was not alarmed until she had been gone for a few days, reasoning that he thought she would come back. A week passed before the local authorities decided to conduct a search of the man's property. His poor wife was found dead at the bottom of the couples well dressed in her white nightgown. The local corner estimated she had been dead for 6 to 7 days. Although the husband was suspected of some foul play he was never charged.
Dorothy's brother became convinced that he had encounter the poor woman's ghost just minutes after her death. No realizing she was dead her spirit wandered to the road and headlights of his car seeking for someone to help her.
The location of this encounter is Madison County south of London, Ohio between State Routse 38 and 56. The name of Van Wagener has been shortened to just Wagener now, that is according to a map which the Madison County Sheriff has posted on their website. This is located at http://www.madisonsheriff.org/jg02.jpg for those of you that are interested in finding the site.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
The Buxton Inn
As told by Chris Woodyard, Beth Scott, and Michael Norman
No Page devoted to Ghost of Ohio could go without mentioning this wonderful quaint Inn. The Buxton Inn located in Granville, Ohio is one of the most note worthy haunted spots in central Ohio.
The Buxton Inn was built in 1812 by Orin Granger. He was originally a native of Massachusetts who came to Ohio to better his lot in life. The site originally served as a post office and stagecoach stop on the Columbus Newark line. Drivers slept and made their meals in the basement of the structure. Cooking over a fireplace, and sleeping on the floor on straw pallets. The inn is one of the oldest continuous operating inn in the state of Ohio.
Major Buxton from of whom the inn takes its name operated the inn from 1865 to 1905. His picture hangs in the lobby of the inn to this day. You see the inn seems to be mostly haunted by the spirits of former owners.
Orin Granger has been seen as a elderly gentlemen in knee breeches sometimes dressed in blue. He has also been accused of the petit crime of stealing and eating pies from the inn's pantry.
Major Buxton has been seen as a shadowy figure in various parts of the house. Some staff members have seen him sitting in a chair near the fire place in the dinning room. Guest warming their hands by the fire have seen a ghostly disembodied set of hands appear next to theirs.
The ghost of Ethel (Bonnie) Bounell also haunts the site. She operated the inn from 1934 to 1960. Her favorite color was blue, and she died in room #9. She has been seen in various parts of the inn dressed in her favorite color, and at different ages of her life. Rooms #7 and #9 seem to be the best place to encounter her though. The odor of gardenia perfume sometimes manifests itself with her appearance. During a blizzard in the year 1978 she frightened an unbelieving cook of the inn by being in the bed he was attempting to get into in room #7. In 1991 a nurse was staying in room #9 when she awakened to find a woman dressed in white sitting at the foot of her bed. The woman asked, "Are you not sleeping well?" To which the startled nurse replied, "No I'm not!" The ghostly lady then vanished. The next morning the guest identified to the staff and her friends the lady in her room when shown a picture of Ethel Bounell.
The basement where the drivers ate and slept is also an area of paranormal activity. Staff have reported feeling something in the room with them after hours. They have also heard footsteps above when the inn was empty. Knocks have been heard on the front door that when opened by the staff reveals no one there. Once the front door was heard to open of its own violation and then close. Heavy foot steps ascended the stairs, then came back down. Once again the front door opened and close by itself. A ghostly cat has been felt by guest staying in room #9 as well. This is perhaps the gray cat that graces the sign of the inn.
So if your looking for a haunted place to stay try the Buxton Inn, and don't forget to ask for rooms #7 or #9!
The Buxton Inn is easy enough to find. It is near the intersection of Route 37 and Route 661 in Granville (Licking County), Ohio. Look for an oval sign with a gray cat on it. The staff will not talk about the spirits of the inn unless asked, and then they will stick to the facts. When I called the very nice lady stated that it would cost about $80.00 to $90.00 a night for two people depending on which room I was assigned. My wife and I plan to stay there sometime soon, but not because of the hauntings. As you see the Inn itself without the ghosts is worth the visit.
For information about the Buxton Inn's rates, cusine, etc. click the
following link: http://www.buxtoninn.com
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
No Page devoted to Ghost of Ohio could go without mentioning this wonderful quaint Inn. The Buxton Inn located in Granville, Ohio is one of the most note worthy haunted spots in central Ohio.
The Buxton Inn was built in 1812 by Orin Granger. He was originally a native of Massachusetts who came to Ohio to better his lot in life. The site originally served as a post office and stagecoach stop on the Columbus Newark line. Drivers slept and made their meals in the basement of the structure. Cooking over a fireplace, and sleeping on the floor on straw pallets. The inn is one of the oldest continuous operating inn in the state of Ohio.
Major Buxton from of whom the inn takes its name operated the inn from 1865 to 1905. His picture hangs in the lobby of the inn to this day. You see the inn seems to be mostly haunted by the spirits of former owners.
Orin Granger has been seen as a elderly gentlemen in knee breeches sometimes dressed in blue. He has also been accused of the petit crime of stealing and eating pies from the inn's pantry.
Major Buxton has been seen as a shadowy figure in various parts of the house. Some staff members have seen him sitting in a chair near the fire place in the dinning room. Guest warming their hands by the fire have seen a ghostly disembodied set of hands appear next to theirs.
The ghost of Ethel (Bonnie) Bounell also haunts the site. She operated the inn from 1934 to 1960. Her favorite color was blue, and she died in room #9. She has been seen in various parts of the inn dressed in her favorite color, and at different ages of her life. Rooms #7 and #9 seem to be the best place to encounter her though. The odor of gardenia perfume sometimes manifests itself with her appearance. During a blizzard in the year 1978 she frightened an unbelieving cook of the inn by being in the bed he was attempting to get into in room #7. In 1991 a nurse was staying in room #9 when she awakened to find a woman dressed in white sitting at the foot of her bed. The woman asked, "Are you not sleeping well?" To which the startled nurse replied, "No I'm not!" The ghostly lady then vanished. The next morning the guest identified to the staff and her friends the lady in her room when shown a picture of Ethel Bounell.
The basement where the drivers ate and slept is also an area of paranormal activity. Staff have reported feeling something in the room with them after hours. They have also heard footsteps above when the inn was empty. Knocks have been heard on the front door that when opened by the staff reveals no one there. Once the front door was heard to open of its own violation and then close. Heavy foot steps ascended the stairs, then came back down. Once again the front door opened and close by itself. A ghostly cat has been felt by guest staying in room #9 as well. This is perhaps the gray cat that graces the sign of the inn.
So if your looking for a haunted place to stay try the Buxton Inn, and don't forget to ask for rooms #7 or #9!
The Buxton Inn is easy enough to find. It is near the intersection of Route 37 and Route 661 in Granville (Licking County), Ohio. Look for an oval sign with a gray cat on it. The staff will not talk about the spirits of the inn unless asked, and then they will stick to the facts. When I called the very nice lady stated that it would cost about $80.00 to $90.00 a night for two people depending on which room I was assigned. My wife and I plan to stay there sometime soon, but not because of the hauntings. As you see the Inn itself without the ghosts is worth the visit.
For information about the Buxton Inn's rates, cusine, etc. click the
following link: http://www.buxtoninn.com
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Thursday, September 12, 2013
Two More Headless Tales
These two are short ones. No date has been given for either of these stories, but they go like this.
The Legend Of Shimp's Hill
(As Reported By The Eagle Gazette 1950)
An unidentified man was traveling north on what is now State Route 158 out of Lancaster. Near the summit of Shimp's Hill he was attacked and robbed. For some reason the Robber saw fit to not only kill his victim, but to behead him. Maybe it was to keep his and the poor victim's identities unknown. Needless to say it is said on the anniversary of the date of the murder, that the headless specter of the unfortunate man can be seen staggering about the top of Shimp's hill searching for his missing head.
Shimp's Hill on Route 158 just north of Lancaster, Ohio.
The Rush Creek Terror
(As Related In A Oral History)
In the small town of Sugar Grove just behind Berne Union Local Schools the little stream called Rush Creek meanders its way through the wooded hills of Fairfield County. Over the years on rainy and fog bound nights many of the local inhabitants of Sugar Grove have reportedly seen the semi luminous figure of a woman in a light colored dress walking along the north-western bank of Rush Creek. Once some of the high school students who happened to see her decided to investigate who this strange woman was. Drawing closer to the figure they discover to their horror that the woman's head, that should have rested on her shoulders, was instead carried in the crook of her arms. The terror stricken boys hightailed it across the football field to leave the woman to finish her nocturnal walk along the stream alone.
Shimp's Hill is located about 2 1\2 miles to the north of Lancaster, and just south of Coonpath Road. Its easy to find as the over the years the road has created a deep grove in the hills that road passes through. Unfortunately I cannot find out the date of the anniversary of the murder which spawned the haunting.
The Rush Creek ghost makes her nocturnal walks just behind the Berne Union Local High School down by the creek. I must warn you that it is against the law to be on school property after normal hours without the permission of the school.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
The Legend Of Shimp's Hill
(As Reported By The Eagle Gazette 1950)
An unidentified man was traveling north on what is now State Route 158 out of Lancaster. Near the summit of Shimp's Hill he was attacked and robbed. For some reason the Robber saw fit to not only kill his victim, but to behead him. Maybe it was to keep his and the poor victim's identities unknown. Needless to say it is said on the anniversary of the date of the murder, that the headless specter of the unfortunate man can be seen staggering about the top of Shimp's hill searching for his missing head.
The Rush Creek Terror
(As Related In A Oral History)
In the small town of Sugar Grove just behind Berne Union Local Schools the little stream called Rush Creek meanders its way through the wooded hills of Fairfield County. Over the years on rainy and fog bound nights many of the local inhabitants of Sugar Grove have reportedly seen the semi luminous figure of a woman in a light colored dress walking along the north-western bank of Rush Creek. Once some of the high school students who happened to see her decided to investigate who this strange woman was. Drawing closer to the figure they discover to their horror that the woman's head, that should have rested on her shoulders, was instead carried in the crook of her arms. The terror stricken boys hightailed it across the football field to leave the woman to finish her nocturnal walk along the stream alone.
Shimp's Hill is located about 2 1\2 miles to the north of Lancaster, and just south of Coonpath Road. Its easy to find as the over the years the road has created a deep grove in the hills that road passes through. Unfortunately I cannot find out the date of the anniversary of the murder which spawned the haunting.
The Rush Creek ghost makes her nocturnal walks just behind the Berne Union Local High School down by the creek. I must warn you that it is against the law to be on school property after normal hours without the permission of the school.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Wednesday, September 11, 2013
The Ghost Of Alan's Knob
As told by George H. Lamb (Eagle Gazette 1950)
Additional information from Chris Woodyard's Haunted Ohio IV
[affiliate link]
Just to the west of Lancaster lies Alan's Knob, a wood covered hill that rises above the surrounding countryside. This serene area just off State Route 22 is now part of the Schallenbarger Nature Preserve. Hikers can climb the steep dirt trails up to the very top of the hill, passing through some wonderful sandstone cliffs on the way to the summit. But this quiet peaceful spot was not always viewed this way in the not so recent past.
It seems an old fellow took a liking to the area and built a crude structure on the western side of the hill near what is now Beck's Knob Road. He would then spend a great deal of his free time up on the summit viewing the surrounding countryside, and reading scriptures from his worn Bible. Later as he was getting on in years he became depressed and frustrated with life. So over a period of the next few days he dug himself a grave up on top of the summit of his beloved hill. He then sat down and composed a note, asking that who ever found his remains to please give them a proper burial in the grave he had provided. He then placed the barrel of his old flintlock to his chest and ended his days on this earth, or so it was thought.
Shortly there after the spirit of the old man began to haunt the road to the north of the hill that ran from the Crumley Community to Lancaster. It was said the figure of the sad and lonely man could always be seen slowly walking east on what is now Crumley Road toward the bridge which spans Hunters Run.
The ghosts activities were harmless until one Sunday evening when a gentleman who had finished visiting a lady friend in the Crumley community was returning home. Not knowing of the ghost that haunted the lane, he happily upon encountering the old man walking along the road, stopped and offered him a ride. The apparition jumped up into the seat beside the unsuspecting man. The horses reared and plunged down the darkened lane at breakneck speed. The man was filled with terror when the ghost reached over and gripped his arm with an icy hand. He then lashed out at his tormentor and struck the grinning specter repeatedly with his whip, but the whip just simply past through the grinning ghost that only tightened its grip. Sobbing and pleading the man implored the spirit to release him, and depart. His unwelcome passenger refused to even reply or loosen it's grip. Then just before the horses and wagon crossed the bridge over Hunters Run the ghost vanished.
It was commonly believed in those day that spirits could not cross streams or moving bodies of water. For years afterwards some of the locals could still point out the spot on the summit where the old mans remains lay, but the location has now been forgotten. On dark nights the old man is suppose to still walk Crumely Road always moving from west to east towards the bridge at Hunter's Run. It is also said that a ghostly light can be seen moving about the summit of Alan's Knob during the night. It suppose to be the restless spirit of the old hermit going about his business carrying a lantern.
Alan's Knob viewed from the east on the bridge on Crumley Road.
Alan's Knob is the hill pictured on the right.
Beck's Knob Road which leads to Alan's Knob. The hill is on the left and shrouded in fog.
The country lane that the old man haunts would be the section of Crumley Road which runs east and west between Beck's Knob Road and State Route 22 just about a mile west past the Lancaster City limits. The area is still quite lovely to look at with Alan's and Beck's Knobs straddling Crumley Road. That is it is lovely in the day time. At night its a different story as I drive this stretch of road after the sun goes down frequently going to and from Columbus, Ohio. I haven't seen the old man's ghost, although the road at night looks like one you might expect to run into a ghostly hitchhiker. The true danger at night here is woodland spirits. Of course I mean DEER!
*Chris Woodyard in Haunted Ohio IV has mistakenly placed Beck's Knob in the Scallenbarger Nature Preserve, which actually lies north of Alan's Knob at the intersection of Beck's Knob and Crumely Roads.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Additional information from Chris Woodyard's Haunted Ohio IV
[affiliate link]Just to the west of Lancaster lies Alan's Knob, a wood covered hill that rises above the surrounding countryside. This serene area just off State Route 22 is now part of the Schallenbarger Nature Preserve. Hikers can climb the steep dirt trails up to the very top of the hill, passing through some wonderful sandstone cliffs on the way to the summit. But this quiet peaceful spot was not always viewed this way in the not so recent past.
It seems an old fellow took a liking to the area and built a crude structure on the western side of the hill near what is now Beck's Knob Road. He would then spend a great deal of his free time up on the summit viewing the surrounding countryside, and reading scriptures from his worn Bible. Later as he was getting on in years he became depressed and frustrated with life. So over a period of the next few days he dug himself a grave up on top of the summit of his beloved hill. He then sat down and composed a note, asking that who ever found his remains to please give them a proper burial in the grave he had provided. He then placed the barrel of his old flintlock to his chest and ended his days on this earth, or so it was thought.
Shortly there after the spirit of the old man began to haunt the road to the north of the hill that ran from the Crumley Community to Lancaster. It was said the figure of the sad and lonely man could always be seen slowly walking east on what is now Crumley Road toward the bridge which spans Hunters Run.
The ghosts activities were harmless until one Sunday evening when a gentleman who had finished visiting a lady friend in the Crumley community was returning home. Not knowing of the ghost that haunted the lane, he happily upon encountering the old man walking along the road, stopped and offered him a ride. The apparition jumped up into the seat beside the unsuspecting man. The horses reared and plunged down the darkened lane at breakneck speed. The man was filled with terror when the ghost reached over and gripped his arm with an icy hand. He then lashed out at his tormentor and struck the grinning specter repeatedly with his whip, but the whip just simply past through the grinning ghost that only tightened its grip. Sobbing and pleading the man implored the spirit to release him, and depart. His unwelcome passenger refused to even reply or loosen it's grip. Then just before the horses and wagon crossed the bridge over Hunters Run the ghost vanished.
It was commonly believed in those day that spirits could not cross streams or moving bodies of water. For years afterwards some of the locals could still point out the spot on the summit where the old mans remains lay, but the location has now been forgotten. On dark nights the old man is suppose to still walk Crumely Road always moving from west to east towards the bridge at Hunter's Run. It is also said that a ghostly light can be seen moving about the summit of Alan's Knob during the night. It suppose to be the restless spirit of the old hermit going about his business carrying a lantern.
Alan's Knob viewed from the east on the bridge on Crumley Road.
Alan's Knob is the hill pictured on the right.
Beck's Knob Road which leads to Alan's Knob. The hill is on the left and shrouded in fog.
The country lane that the old man haunts would be the section of Crumley Road which runs east and west between Beck's Knob Road and State Route 22 just about a mile west past the Lancaster City limits. The area is still quite lovely to look at with Alan's and Beck's Knobs straddling Crumley Road. That is it is lovely in the day time. At night its a different story as I drive this stretch of road after the sun goes down frequently going to and from Columbus, Ohio. I haven't seen the old man's ghost, although the road at night looks like one you might expect to run into a ghostly hitchhiker. The true danger at night here is woodland spirits. Of course I mean DEER!
*Chris Woodyard in Haunted Ohio IV has mistakenly placed Beck's Knob in the Scallenbarger Nature Preserve, which actually lies north of Alan's Knob at the intersection of Beck's Knob and Crumely Roads.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
The Sand Hill Headless Man
A story by George H. Lamb (Eagle Gazette June 3rd, 1950)
Just about six miles west of Lancaster and a mile or so south of the old abandoned Pennsylvania Railway on Delmont Road lies Sand Hill. It was here that there use to be an old distillery operation. A local eccentric named Kiger lived there in an old log cabin on the east side of the hill, and spent a large amount of his time at the distillery. It was said that he would consume large quantities of the vile brew, and then stagger on his way home.
Well on one evening he stayed on at the place well near to midnight talking to the men who ran the operation, and helping himself freely to the home brew. Bidding his hosts farewell he then began his lonely trek home to his cabin. He was last seen making his way up the road to the top of the hill towards his home.
The next morning some local timber cutters found Kiger's headless body lying in the middle of the road. It was felt that some local feral hogs which ran wild had happened upon the poor sod after he had passed out from the vast amount of moonshine he had consumed. The hogs had then partially eaten the old fellow where he had fallen in the road. Apparently they had packed of the man's head as it appears it was never found. Kiger's headless body was wrapped in a blanket and buried near his beloved log cabin.
There after on dark nights the spirit of the poor unfortunate man would haunt and terrify all who encountered it. It took the appearance of a headless man that would sometimes hover directly over the road, or float and drift back and forth across the road. Possibly he was searching for where the hogs had left the remains of his head. For a time the road was avoided at night. A then local doctor who claimed to be a psychic tried to make contact with the unfortunate Kiger, but never succeeded.
The ghost now appears to have gone his way giving up the search for his lost head.
The location of this site is in the middle of a group of four haunted locations. Kind of spook central of Western Fairfield County. As best as I can tell the the road in the story is Delmont Road SW just off State Route 22 west of Lancaster. The railway is not visible, but I have it on a map in my home. The hill is not labeled, but from the description in the account, its the hill that has the graveyard on top of it just north of U.S. Route 22. Schadel Hill Cemetery. (According to a German acquaintance of mine "Schadel" is german for Skull Top.)
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Just about six miles west of Lancaster and a mile or so south of the old abandoned Pennsylvania Railway on Delmont Road lies Sand Hill. It was here that there use to be an old distillery operation. A local eccentric named Kiger lived there in an old log cabin on the east side of the hill, and spent a large amount of his time at the distillery. It was said that he would consume large quantities of the vile brew, and then stagger on his way home.
Well on one evening he stayed on at the place well near to midnight talking to the men who ran the operation, and helping himself freely to the home brew. Bidding his hosts farewell he then began his lonely trek home to his cabin. He was last seen making his way up the road to the top of the hill towards his home.
The next morning some local timber cutters found Kiger's headless body lying in the middle of the road. It was felt that some local feral hogs which ran wild had happened upon the poor sod after he had passed out from the vast amount of moonshine he had consumed. The hogs had then partially eaten the old fellow where he had fallen in the road. Apparently they had packed of the man's head as it appears it was never found. Kiger's headless body was wrapped in a blanket and buried near his beloved log cabin.
There after on dark nights the spirit of the poor unfortunate man would haunt and terrify all who encountered it. It took the appearance of a headless man that would sometimes hover directly over the road, or float and drift back and forth across the road. Possibly he was searching for where the hogs had left the remains of his head. For a time the road was avoided at night. A then local doctor who claimed to be a psychic tried to make contact with the unfortunate Kiger, but never succeeded.
The ghost now appears to have gone his way giving up the search for his lost head.
The location of this site is in the middle of a group of four haunted locations. Kind of spook central of Western Fairfield County. As best as I can tell the the road in the story is Delmont Road SW just off State Route 22 west of Lancaster. The railway is not visible, but I have it on a map in my home. The hill is not labeled, but from the description in the account, its the hill that has the graveyard on top of it just north of U.S. Route 22. Schadel Hill Cemetery. (According to a German acquaintance of mine "Schadel" is german for Skull Top.)This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Monday, September 9, 2013
The Ghost Car
a tale told by Anna B. Hoffman
*(Addition information by Chris Woodyard from Haunted Ohio II[affiliate link])
In the years 1926 through 1930 a strange thing happened several times. On each occasion between 10 and 11 o'clock at night we saw a car coming down the road. It turned off into the lane then crossed the bridge. A man opened the gate, drove through, closed the gate, went up to the barn, turned around and came down, got out of the car, opened the gate and walked up to the house. It had been snowing, there was at least two feet of snow on the ground. A knock came at the door. A lady opened the door and wanted to know who was there. No one was there.
We looked and saw no car or anything. So we got the lantern and went out and followed the tracks. We could see where the car had turned around and gone away. We didn't know what to make of this.
The next year the same thing happened again. It happened each year up until 1930. That year, one member of the family passed away. Before the member passed away, on the post there were three owls. The first night the one owl hooted and then he left. The second night an owl hooted and it left. The third night the last owl hooted and left. That night one member of the family passed away.
Almost a month later another member of the family became ill. Then a few days later I saw seven owls on seven different posts. The first owl hooted and they all left. It continued that way until the last owl hooted and left. That night a member of the family passed away. (The two family members she is referring to are the family's two boys.)
It all seemed to be kind of odd and we thought maybe the car wouldn't come back. But sure enough, between 10 and 11 o'clock at night the same car came back. Only this time we heard a voice and the voice said that there wouldn't be anyone to occupy this place because there would be a disaster. Sure enough, the prediction came true. There were two accidents. After that, the car never came back again. (The two accidents that she is referring to in the above narrative are, the father getting caught under the teeth of a harrow blade in a field. He bleed to death from his wounds. After the fathers burial, the mother took her remaining daughter to an adjacent farm, and then went home to commit suicide by drinking some carbolic acid!)
This all happened between the time I was six and almost ten. This happened east of Lancaster on a large farm. There used to be a bridge, a covered bridge there, but it no longer stands. And I think maybe sometime or another if you would be there at that time of night and there's a lot of snow on the ground, you might see that ghost car. The years were between 1926 and 1930.
I have left the original text from Anna Hoffman unchanged. I don't know if she is retelling a story from her childhood, or is actually the surviving daughter. According to the Eagle Gazette the farm is located on what is now the south side of Lancaster somewhere off of State Route 793. It is possible that in 1930 that this would have been the southeast side of town. My narrative comes from a manuscript that a family member owns. This is possibly a copy of an oral history project. I believe the Fairfield County Library has a copy of this in their reference room as well.
This post, including commentary and photos, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
*(Addition information by Chris Woodyard from Haunted Ohio II
[affiliate link])In the years 1926 through 1930 a strange thing happened several times. On each occasion between 10 and 11 o'clock at night we saw a car coming down the road. It turned off into the lane then crossed the bridge. A man opened the gate, drove through, closed the gate, went up to the barn, turned around and came down, got out of the car, opened the gate and walked up to the house. It had been snowing, there was at least two feet of snow on the ground. A knock came at the door. A lady opened the door and wanted to know who was there. No one was there.
We looked and saw no car or anything. So we got the lantern and went out and followed the tracks. We could see where the car had turned around and gone away. We didn't know what to make of this.
The next year the same thing happened again. It happened each year up until 1930. That year, one member of the family passed away. Before the member passed away, on the post there were three owls. The first night the one owl hooted and then he left. The second night an owl hooted and it left. The third night the last owl hooted and left. That night one member of the family passed away.
Almost a month later another member of the family became ill. Then a few days later I saw seven owls on seven different posts. The first owl hooted and they all left. It continued that way until the last owl hooted and left. That night a member of the family passed away. (The two family members she is referring to are the family's two boys.)
It all seemed to be kind of odd and we thought maybe the car wouldn't come back. But sure enough, between 10 and 11 o'clock at night the same car came back. Only this time we heard a voice and the voice said that there wouldn't be anyone to occupy this place because there would be a disaster. Sure enough, the prediction came true. There were two accidents. After that, the car never came back again. (The two accidents that she is referring to in the above narrative are, the father getting caught under the teeth of a harrow blade in a field. He bleed to death from his wounds. After the fathers burial, the mother took her remaining daughter to an adjacent farm, and then went home to commit suicide by drinking some carbolic acid!)
This all happened between the time I was six and almost ten. This happened east of Lancaster on a large farm. There used to be a bridge, a covered bridge there, but it no longer stands. And I think maybe sometime or another if you would be there at that time of night and there's a lot of snow on the ground, you might see that ghost car. The years were between 1926 and 1930.
I have left the original text from Anna Hoffman unchanged. I don't know if she is retelling a story from her childhood, or is actually the surviving daughter. According to the Eagle Gazette the farm is located on what is now the south side of Lancaster somewhere off of State Route 793. It is possible that in 1930 that this would have been the southeast side of town. My narrative comes from a manuscript that a family member owns. This is possibly a copy of an oral history project. I believe the Fairfield County Library has a copy of this in their reference room as well.
This post, including commentary and photos, originally appeared on James A. Sheets' site.
Friday, September 6, 2013
The Clarksburg Ghost
In the early days of Fairfield County a family lived in the Clarksburg community whose reputation was indeed quite bad.
Stage coaches ran over the old Hamburg Road and several of these had been held up.
A stranger who was traveling through disappeared, and legend has it that he was murdered and his remains were buried near the site of the old Clarksburg school house, although the body was never found.
As a result the old original school house was said to have been haunted and neighbors frequently heard strange sounds coming from the building resembling the tramp of horses on the floor. On numerous occasions the bell would toll lightly in the middle of the night and it was no secret that strange and unaccountable happenings were taking place.
A very highly respected gentlemen with his wife and son were walking home from Lancaster one night, and a large black dog said to be as large as a full grown steer followed them for some distance as they arrived in front of the school house.
So frightened was the family that they were afraid to speak. Suddenly the large dog disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. They then began talking, each wanting to know whether or not the others had seen the strange sight. All had seen it and to their dying day their story could not be shaken.
The writer, as a young chap, knew the old man who was the boy, along with the father and mother, who had seen the strange apparition. He told me the story a number of times and seemed much offended if anyone showed signs of not believing him.
This story was obtained by a manuscript given to me by a family member, and the source of the story is unknown. Hamburg Road runs Southwest out of Lancaster for around 10 to 12 miles until it intersects with State Route 159. I cannot find any reference to Clarksburg along its length. As a matter of fact the only Clarksburg I can find in the entire state is in Ross County just to the Southwest of Circleville. It's possible that the name of "Clarksburg" is a mistake, or that the story was transplanted from Ross to Fairfield County. Its still a great story, but if anyone can help with the actual location please e-mail me atjas1746@greenapple.com. [Editor's note: That email is long defunct. Email me at wintermute@nitemarecafe.com instead of the original author.]
Several people have been kind enough to write and claim that they have elders that remember that there was a road or small group of homes somewhere off of Boving Road which intersects Hamburg Road called Clarksburg or Clarksburg Lane. One writer desrcibes her Grandparents as remebering the old school house which later became a someones home being haunted. Candles or lights would be seen in the windows when no one was home.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on on James A Sheets' site.
Stage coaches ran over the old Hamburg Road and several of these had been held up.
A stranger who was traveling through disappeared, and legend has it that he was murdered and his remains were buried near the site of the old Clarksburg school house, although the body was never found.
As a result the old original school house was said to have been haunted and neighbors frequently heard strange sounds coming from the building resembling the tramp of horses on the floor. On numerous occasions the bell would toll lightly in the middle of the night and it was no secret that strange and unaccountable happenings were taking place.
A very highly respected gentlemen with his wife and son were walking home from Lancaster one night, and a large black dog said to be as large as a full grown steer followed them for some distance as they arrived in front of the school house.
So frightened was the family that they were afraid to speak. Suddenly the large dog disappeared as quickly as he had appeared. They then began talking, each wanting to know whether or not the others had seen the strange sight. All had seen it and to their dying day their story could not be shaken.
The writer, as a young chap, knew the old man who was the boy, along with the father and mother, who had seen the strange apparition. He told me the story a number of times and seemed much offended if anyone showed signs of not believing him.
This story was obtained by a manuscript given to me by a family member, and the source of the story is unknown. Hamburg Road runs Southwest out of Lancaster for around 10 to 12 miles until it intersects with State Route 159. I cannot find any reference to Clarksburg along its length. As a matter of fact the only Clarksburg I can find in the entire state is in Ross County just to the Southwest of Circleville. It's possible that the name of "Clarksburg" is a mistake, or that the story was transplanted from Ross to Fairfield County. Its still a great story, but if anyone can help with the actual location please e-mail me at
Several people have been kind enough to write and claim that they have elders that remember that there was a road or small group of homes somewhere off of Boving Road which intersects Hamburg Road called Clarksburg or Clarksburg Lane. One writer desrcibes her Grandparents as remebering the old school house which later became a someones home being haunted. Candles or lights would be seen in the windows when no one was home.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on on James A Sheets' site.
Thursday, September 5, 2013
The Baldwin House
A tale told by Marjorie George Beougher
This story took place at the old Baldwin House (known as the haunted house on the corner of Marietta Road and the Pleasantville Pike or Route 188.
The Baldwin House was a tavern or inn or whatever they called them in those days. Farmers would drive their pigs or sheep to market and then would return here to spend the night and have a good bit of money in their possession.
The reason this inn was so handy was because this road was known to go clear to Marietta, Ohio, clear to the Ohio River.
One night two men were sleeping in the same room and one man was known to have a lot of money from having sold his cattle. The next morning, there was no noise out of the room, so the caretaker went up and looked and one man was dead and the other one had disappeared and there was blood on the floor. He had been killed somehow. Always after that it seemed like they could never scrub that floor, that no matter how they scoured, that stain was still there.
It went on for a while being a tavern and they wouldn't tell the people that came there to stay but the men who stayed in that particular room would get up and say, "Something kept walking around in the room and I couldn't get any rest."
In time no one would stay in that room. It's thought that they finally quit using it and across the windows to it they closed it up with tin. Now whether that was to keep out the spirits or not, I don't know.
The people that were living there were ancestral relatives of mine and they said they heard noises, unusual noises, and they thought there were ghosts in that room. Later, my uncle married the daughter of the family and they didn't believe in ghosts. She said that the whole time they lived there they never saw anything unusual. That was in 1918.
But around when the story I'm going to tell you took place, the people that lived there thought there were ghosts. They said the stove lids would just jump on the stove and come open all by themselves and have no reason to and they would hear strange noises from that room.
My grandfather, Olivet Perry Nichols, was a young man and he was visiting or staying there the night and they heard these terrible, horrible noises from out in the barn behind the house. They said, "Oh my, the ghost has gone out there now," and they looked out the back door and they could see something real white and oh the folks were so scared. My grandfather said, "I know that there's nothing to these ghost stories and I know there's no such a thing as a ghost and I also know for every noise there is a reason and I'm going to investigate. "Oh," the people said, "You'll be killed!" And the ladies tried to hang on to the straps of his overalls to keep him from going out because , he would never live through it, they felt. So when he got out of their grasp, he went out towards the barn and the noise got louder and the white spot was still there. When he got up real close he discovered it was a large, white mother sow with indigestion. She was making terrible groans so he went back and told them they should go out and doctor the hog. This was the ghost and the story of the one ghost that had gone to the barn. I think maybe we'd find a lot of ghosts stories are like that. They're real animals or real people in distress.
I am sorry to say that the old Baldwin House no longer exists. It stood at the intersection of Marietta Road and the Pleasantville Pike or Route 188 in Lancaster, Ohio. I have no idea as to when it was torn down. I have driven past this site most of my life, and have not seen or heard anything. I also do not know of anybody who has.
I have seen another article on the Baldwin House that is more detailed. As soon as I locate it I will replace or update the story above.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on on James A Sheets' site.
This story took place at the old Baldwin House (known as the haunted house on the corner of Marietta Road and the Pleasantville Pike or Route 188.
The Baldwin House was a tavern or inn or whatever they called them in those days. Farmers would drive their pigs or sheep to market and then would return here to spend the night and have a good bit of money in their possession.
The reason this inn was so handy was because this road was known to go clear to Marietta, Ohio, clear to the Ohio River.
One night two men were sleeping in the same room and one man was known to have a lot of money from having sold his cattle. The next morning, there was no noise out of the room, so the caretaker went up and looked and one man was dead and the other one had disappeared and there was blood on the floor. He had been killed somehow. Always after that it seemed like they could never scrub that floor, that no matter how they scoured, that stain was still there.
It went on for a while being a tavern and they wouldn't tell the people that came there to stay but the men who stayed in that particular room would get up and say, "Something kept walking around in the room and I couldn't get any rest."
In time no one would stay in that room. It's thought that they finally quit using it and across the windows to it they closed it up with tin. Now whether that was to keep out the spirits or not, I don't know.
The people that were living there were ancestral relatives of mine and they said they heard noises, unusual noises, and they thought there were ghosts in that room. Later, my uncle married the daughter of the family and they didn't believe in ghosts. She said that the whole time they lived there they never saw anything unusual. That was in 1918.
But around when the story I'm going to tell you took place, the people that lived there thought there were ghosts. They said the stove lids would just jump on the stove and come open all by themselves and have no reason to and they would hear strange noises from that room.
My grandfather, Olivet Perry Nichols, was a young man and he was visiting or staying there the night and they heard these terrible, horrible noises from out in the barn behind the house. They said, "Oh my, the ghost has gone out there now," and they looked out the back door and they could see something real white and oh the folks were so scared. My grandfather said, "I know that there's nothing to these ghost stories and I know there's no such a thing as a ghost and I also know for every noise there is a reason and I'm going to investigate. "Oh," the people said, "You'll be killed!" And the ladies tried to hang on to the straps of his overalls to keep him from going out because , he would never live through it, they felt. So when he got out of their grasp, he went out towards the barn and the noise got louder and the white spot was still there. When he got up real close he discovered it was a large, white mother sow with indigestion. She was making terrible groans so he went back and told them they should go out and doctor the hog. This was the ghost and the story of the one ghost that had gone to the barn. I think maybe we'd find a lot of ghosts stories are like that. They're real animals or real people in distress.
I am sorry to say that the old Baldwin House no longer exists. It stood at the intersection of Marietta Road and the Pleasantville Pike or Route 188 in Lancaster, Ohio. I have no idea as to when it was torn down. I have driven past this site most of my life, and have not seen or heard anything. I also do not know of anybody who has.
I have seen another article on the Baldwin House that is more detailed. As soon as I locate it I will replace or update the story above.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on on James A Sheets' site.
Wednesday, September 4, 2013
The Clear Creek Ghost
This is one that I as a young teenager was familiar with when I was in High School. There are two locations for this haunting. The one I am familiar with is the old abandoned covered bridge near the intersection of McDonald and Clear Creek Roads in Fairfield County.The story is a short one. A woman sometime in the late 1800's was traveling home late at night with her husband, who was driving their horse and buggy. A severe thunderstorm over took them. The woman dismounted the wagon at the covered bridge to hand guide the horses and wagon across. She lost her footing in the storm, and fell into the swollen stream and drowned.
I have also heard a different version which claims that her husband was leaving her, and that she committed suicide at the bridge by jumping into the stream during a storm, or by hanging herself on the spot.
Which ever version is correct, it is said that on some stormy nights a woman can be seen just standing, or beckoning on the bridge.
I have been contacted by some readers that live in the area of the bridge. They have related the following additional details to the strange happenings in this area. On several ocassions travelers have seeen a truck who's headlights were clearly on the road ahead. After stopping to allow the truck to pass over the one lane bridge, they were mystified when the truck failed to ever appear. One traveler had a similar incident to my friends and I when he was crossing the bridge near midnight and his car stalled. The forward motion of the car carried it across the bridge, but the unfortunate man was forced to walk the remaining eight miles to his house in the pitch black night. Oh did mention that it was Halloween Night as well! This gentleman also was kind enough to remind me that the location of the bridge is not too far away from Written Rock on Clear Creek Road which has tales of Satanic Worship attached to it. It was also related to me that some late night travlers have had a clamy cold unseen hand grab their hands on the steering wheel and attempt to stear their vehicles off the road near the bridge. Maybe the poor lady desires some company.
The location of this spot is in Fairfield County at the old Johnson Covered Bridge. Take U. S. Route 33 south of the city of Lancaster. About nine miles out of town you will come to Clear Creek Road, and need to turn right or west here. I do believe that there is a Shell Gas Station there now. Follow this curvy and I do believe in spots unpaved road for about nine miles, or so to the where McDonald Road intersects Clear Creek Road. The bridge is just off the side of the road near here. This is a nice spooky ride at night, as there are few dwellings or lights on Clear Creek Road.
My friends and I as youths took a 3\4 ton GMC pick-up truck to this spot one night. There was around five of us as I remember, and we had been indulging in some illegal beer that evening. We began to yell and make the most rude comments I do believe trying to entice the ghost to come out. My friend's truck suddenly stalled and the entire electrical system failed. There we sat in the darkness for around ten minutes when a car came up behind us. The trucks lights came back on, and my friend cranked the engine into life.
WWWHOOOOOOOOO! I should mention that my friend had some loose wires from a trailer hook up in the bed of the truck, and they more than likely shorted out the electrical system. That wasn't discovered though until the NEXT DAY!
(After being sent e-mail describing how others have had stalls on this site, I'm not so sure about the wires in the bed of the truck theory.)
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on on James A Sheets' site.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
The Blue Light Ghost
As told by Chris Woodyard in Haunted Ohio III
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[caption id="attachment_38" align="alignright" width="300"]
Hummel Bridge[/caption] In the 1930's there was a young girl from Sugar Grove who was engaged to be married to a local fellow. The people of Sugar Grove had some serious doubts about this couples relationship, as they always got into the most terrible fights. They always seem to make up though. That was until one day when they got into the worst argument ever. Although they made up once again, the girl never acted the same. She seemed remote and isolated. Her eyes filled with anger and hate.
Late one night when the couple was parked out at the old Hummell covered bridge, the young lady pulled a knife from her purse and cut her lover's throat. She then proceeded to hack away at the corpse 's neck until the unfortunate man's head separated from his shoulders. She then carried his head up onto a small hill to the west of the bridge and sat down to cradle her gristly treasure. Crooning and whispering sweet nothings to the lifeless head, she was overtaken by grief. She then took her own life by cutting her throat.
She was found at the bottom of the hill still clutching her lover's head by the hair. From the blood trail the corner concluded that she must have staggered down the hill carrying her lovers head before death claimed her as well.
The old cover bridge has been torn down and replaced by one made of concrete and steel. But on dark moon less nights, if you call out the woman's name. A luminous blue shape will form on the top of the hill, and begin to stagger towards you.
The location of this site is in Fairfield County near the bridge on Hansley Road. To get there you must go south of the city of Lancaster on U.S. Route 33. Turn east on Hornsmill Road. Then turn right on the second road you come to which is Savage Road. Turn left on the first road you come to which will be Hansley Road. Follow this to Hummel Bridge which spans Rush Creek and you are at the spot! There is a house nearby. Sadly there was nobody home when I went to take the above photo. I would liked to have asked if they had ever seen anything. Maybe I will gather some brave soul and go and test out the legend some moon less night. Oh I should point out I think the girl's name is Mary!
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on on James A Sheets' site.
[affiliate link][caption id="attachment_38" align="alignright" width="300"]
Hummel Bridge[/caption] In the 1930's there was a young girl from Sugar Grove who was engaged to be married to a local fellow. The people of Sugar Grove had some serious doubts about this couples relationship, as they always got into the most terrible fights. They always seem to make up though. That was until one day when they got into the worst argument ever. Although they made up once again, the girl never acted the same. She seemed remote and isolated. Her eyes filled with anger and hate.Late one night when the couple was parked out at the old Hummell covered bridge, the young lady pulled a knife from her purse and cut her lover's throat. She then proceeded to hack away at the corpse 's neck until the unfortunate man's head separated from his shoulders. She then carried his head up onto a small hill to the west of the bridge and sat down to cradle her gristly treasure. Crooning and whispering sweet nothings to the lifeless head, she was overtaken by grief. She then took her own life by cutting her throat.
She was found at the bottom of the hill still clutching her lover's head by the hair. From the blood trail the corner concluded that she must have staggered down the hill carrying her lovers head before death claimed her as well.
The old cover bridge has been torn down and replaced by one made of concrete and steel. But on dark moon less nights, if you call out the woman's name. A luminous blue shape will form on the top of the hill, and begin to stagger towards you.
The location of this site is in Fairfield County near the bridge on Hansley Road. To get there you must go south of the city of Lancaster on U.S. Route 33. Turn east on Hornsmill Road. Then turn right on the second road you come to which is Savage Road. Turn left on the first road you come to which will be Hansley Road. Follow this to Hummel Bridge which spans Rush Creek and you are at the spot! There is a house nearby. Sadly there was nobody home when I went to take the above photo. I would liked to have asked if they had ever seen anything. Maybe I will gather some brave soul and go and test out the legend some moon less night. Oh I should point out I think the girl's name is Mary!
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on on James A Sheets' site.
Monday, September 2, 2013
The Horseshoe Tombstone
a tale told by James Heinzman
This story is about a tombstone up at Otterbein Cemetery in Perry County that has a horseshoe on it which appears to be bloody at times.
In 1844, or thereabouts, there was a young man named James Henry who lived in that area. At the time, he was courting two different young ladies and he couldn't make up his mind on which one he was going to marry. Being that period of time, he always drove a horse and buggy. His horse would always take him home at night if he went to sleep. It always returned to his house.
On night the horse went to one of his lady friend's house instead of his house. So he decided that he would marry her. That would be the one that he would make the choice of marrying. He married her and she was a avid horse fan, too. She always rode her horse around. Later on, she became sick with an illness and died in a short time. He was in deep mourning and always went to Otterbein Cemetery to put flowers on her grave and mourn.
One day, he was up there and his other girl friend came past and stopped to see him and they struck up a romance. Then he married her. He still kept, of course, the horse of his first wife. And one day, a passerby was going past Otterbein Cemetery and saw a bloody horseshoe on his wife's tombstone. He said it was an ill omen.
The skies became dark, all the cattle were spooked and they had thunder and lightening storms. The next day, in the morning, Mr Henry was going to take his new wife to town with the horse and buggy and have his first wife's horse to connect up to the buggy. He went out to the barn to feed the horses and was going to return to eat breakfast that morning but he was out there a long time and didn't return. Mrs. Henry went out to the barn. The barn was deathly quiet instead of noisy like the morning with the horses eating. Mr. Henry was laying, behind his first wife's horse, on his face. She turned him over and there was a print of the horseshoe in his forehead where his first wife's horse had kicked him. She took off screaming and hollering of course.
They buried him and whatever happened to her I do not know but even at times now, on foggy nights, you're supposed to be able to hear the hoof beats of him and his first wife riding horses up Otterbein Road, late at night when it's foggy.
The one thing I like about this story is that you can actually go to the cemetery and expect to see something as the photos below show. The graveyard is located in the western portion of Perry county just off of State Route 22. Otterbein Road runs south off of Route 22. Less than a mile up the road you will encounter a red brick church. The graveyard is adjacent to the church. Mary Henry's grave is oddly enough as far away from the church as possible. It sits by itself in the far southwest corner of the cemetery. It is easy to identify as the headstone is fenced off with a metal grate, and the headstone itself is supported by a metal frame. I do believe the stone was damaged by vandals some years ago. My in-laws have told me that the stone there is not the original one, but a replacement. (Apparently the mark came back on the second stone too!) They have also told me that the mark on the back of the headstone was examined by a local university, and that the reason for the mark is still unexplained. I must point out that I cannot verify this.
This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on on James A Sheets' site.
This story is about a tombstone up at Otterbein Cemetery in Perry County that has a horseshoe on it which appears to be bloody at times.In 1844, or thereabouts, there was a young man named James Henry who lived in that area. At the time, he was courting two different young ladies and he couldn't make up his mind on which one he was going to marry. Being that period of time, he always drove a horse and buggy. His horse would always take him home at night if he went to sleep. It always returned to his house.
On night the horse went to one of his lady friend's house instead of his house. So he decided that he would marry her. That would be the one that he would make the choice of marrying. He married her and she was a avid horse fan, too. She always rode her horse around. Later on, she became sick with an illness and died in a short time. He was in deep mourning and always went to Otterbein Cemetery to put flowers on her grave and mourn.
One day, he was up there and his other girl friend came past and stopped to see him and they struck up a romance. Then he married her. He still kept, of course, the horse of his first wife. And one day, a passerby was going past Otterbein Cemetery and saw a bloody horseshoe on his wife's tombstone. He said it was an ill omen.
The skies became dark, all the cattle were spooked and they had thunder and lightening storms. The next day, in the morning, Mr Henry was going to take his new wife to town with the horse and buggy and have his first wife's horse to connect up to the buggy. He went out to the barn to feed the horses and was going to return to eat breakfast that morning but he was out there a long time and didn't return. Mrs. Henry went out to the barn. The barn was deathly quiet instead of noisy like the morning with the horses eating. Mr. Henry was laying, behind his first wife's horse, on his face. She turned him over and there was a print of the horseshoe in his forehead where his first wife's horse had kicked him. She took off screaming and hollering of course.
They buried him and whatever happened to her I do not know but even at times now, on foggy nights, you're supposed to be able to hear the hoof beats of him and his first wife riding horses up Otterbein Road, late at night when it's foggy.
The one thing I like about this story is that you can actually go to the cemetery and expect to see something as the photos below show. The graveyard is located in the western portion of Perry county just off of State Route 22. Otterbein Road runs south off of Route 22. Less than a mile up the road you will encounter a red brick church. The graveyard is adjacent to the church. Mary Henry's grave is oddly enough as far away from the church as possible. It sits by itself in the far southwest corner of the cemetery. It is easy to identify as the headstone is fenced off with a metal grate, and the headstone itself is supported by a metal frame. I do believe the stone was damaged by vandals some years ago. My in-laws have told me that the stone there is not the original one, but a replacement. (Apparently the mark came back on the second stone too!) They have also told me that the mark on the back of the headstone was examined by a local university, and that the reason for the mark is still unexplained. I must point out that I cannot verify this.This post, including photos and commentary, originally appeared on on James A Sheets' site.
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