Railroad tracks through Sale Creek not far from Shipley Hollow. Photo by Brian Stansberry, 2015, courtesy of Wikipedia.
North from the hubbub of Chattanooga lies the community of Sale Creek. Just north of Sale Creek, Daugherty Ferry Road guides travelers into the Tennessee backwoods through to a place called Shipley Hollow. After Shipley Hollow Road forks from Daugherty Ferry, travelers enter the domain of something that the locals have nicknamed the “Pitty Pat.”
For roughly two centuries travelers through Shipley Hollow have had run-ins with an entity or creature. The horrors of the first encounter are still whispered about, though many of the details have been lost through this inter-generational telephone game. Some iterations of the legend place the first encounter in the 1770s, while the primary source for the written version provides the date as during the 1860s. The 18th century setting is not likely as the area was occupied almost exclusively by the Cherokee people and the legend states definitively that the characters were settlers.
The basic version of the legend tells us of a settler woman and several small children travelling in a wagon at night through Shipley Hollow. From out of the darkness, something startles the horse causing the wagon to overturn on top of the mother killing her. The children disappear into the night, possibly taken by the entity, never to be seen again. Residents and travelers soon began to hear a strange sound pursuing them after dark a strange pitty-pat, pitty-pat, pitty-pat, led many to sprint towards their destination.
Over the next century, hapless travelers after dark, doctors on house-calls, and local residents were all frightened of the entity that sometimes climbed onto the backs of horses or buggies. In the 1950s, two residents driving down the road late one night had something crash into the side of their car. The impact caused the driver to step on the gas until the pair reached the safety of a nearby house. Expecting to find evidence of the terrible collision, the gentlemen found nothing. The side of the car was intact with nary a scratch or dent. The men returned to the road seeking the remains of what hit their car, but again, the search was fruitless.
These stories have filtered down to today, and the legend was documented in historian Curtis Coulter’s 1990 book, A Sentimental Journey Down Country Roads: Stories of Sale Creek, Tennessee. Coulter included the original legend and the 1950s collision described above. Georgiana Kotarski included information from Coulter’s book, but she also adds a story from November 2004. Early one morning a pair of deer hunters took up in two deer stands they had set up near Shipley Hollow. Using walkie-talkies to communicate, the pair arrived in the early morning darkness. One of the hunters noticed that the deer seemed to be moving about earlier than expected.
Communication between the hunters was interrupted by static over the walkie-talkies. Peering into the darkness of the woods, one of the hunters heard something moving in the forest. His eyes, having adjusted to the light, soon saw something blocking out the small slivers of light that filtered through the trees. The inky shadow surrounded him, and he felt it breathing on his neck. The feeling lifted after five fearful minutes. After this frightening incident, the hunter began asking around about ghost stories from the area and discovered Coulter’s book.
In 2010, curious teenagers were attracted to the area by tales of ghosts, but they found a gun-toting local who held them until the police arrived. Since the curious teens had not stepped out of their cars, nor had they entered the cemetery, the police arrested the man who held them for false imprisonment. While this incident is not terribly important, the articles do provide a picture of the things that people are still encountering in Shipley Hollow. One of the articles states that “those who visit the cemetery drive around a loop three times, then stop and listen.” One of the teens said, You are supposed to hear weird sounds and sometimes you can even see a light.” The loop is Shipley Cemetery Road, which branches off Shipley Hollow Road to the Shipley Cemetery and loops around to the main road.
Another article about the 2010 incident includes another brief story from the area. That story speaks of a woman being kidnapped, murdered, with her body tossed into a well near the cemetery.
If you head out to Shipley Hollow, you may want to run if you hear a pitty-pat, pitty-pat, pitty-pat sound, though also be on the lookout for gun-toting locals.
Sources
“Case bound to grand jury against teacher who held ‘ghostbusters’ with a rifle.” The Chattanoogan. 17 November 2010.
Kotarski, Georgiana C. Ghosts of the Southern Tennessee Valley. Winston-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2006.
Stone, Michael. “Popular haunt.” Chattanooga Times-Free Press. 11 September 2010.
Sometimes aimless searching online produces serendipitous results. Thus, this was the case when I stumbled upon a mention of a place called “Werewolf Springs.” Reporter Josh Arntz of the Dickson Herald wrote a fabulous article about the legend of Werewolf Springs in 2011. He has since done some excellent reporting on several haunted locations within Dickson County. What’s interesting about this legend, is the possible connection with the more well-known story of the White Bluff Screamer located roughly 5 miles away in the same county.
The Dickson County Courthouse in Charlotte, the oldest courthouse still in use in the state of Tennessee. Photo by Brian Stansberry, 2008, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Dickson County retains its rural character despite being within (about 35 miles) listening distance of Nashville’s country music. Several sites within the county are the subject of ghost stories and legends including Montgomery Bell State Park (the location of Werewolf Springs), the small town of White Bluff (where the legend of the White Screamer may be found), and the Clement Railroad Hotel Museum in Dickson (the childhood home of Governor Frank Clement whose parents owned the hotel).
The legend of Werewolf Springs begins with a circus train passing through Dickson County in the late 1860s. The train derailed near the community of Burns, southeast of Dickson, and some of the animals escaped. Among the escapees were a pair of half-human, half-wolf creatures who were exhibited under the moniker, “The Wolfmen of Borneo.” Circus employees caught all the other escaped animals, though the wolfmen were nowhere to be found.
A couple of years later, two locals traveling on a nearby road—where modern State Route 47 now runs from Burns to White Bluff—found themselves being stalked by a large creature. The two men, a local landowner and a hired hand, attempted to outrun the creature, but it caught up with them, and the duo split up and fled into the forest.
The creature pursued the hired hand, and the landowner was shocked to hear the man’s screams and cries as he was presumably torn apart. The hired hand’s body was never located. A mob of locals, I imagine classically armed with pitchforks and torches, formed from nearby farms and towns to bring justice to this dreadful creature. Near the springs where the duo had encountered the beast, the mob led a live goat to a clearing where it was tied to bait the monster. Extinguishing their torches and lanterns, the posse waited with bated breath for the hungry creature to make its appearance.
The prowling creature eventually appeared. The group opened fire then quickly lit their torches and lanterns to see if they had bagged their quarry. The clearing was empty. The creature, goat, and two members of the posse had vanished into the thick night air. With terror, the group dispersed fearing to pursue the mysterious creature any further.
Later, a big game hunter attempted to kill the creature of Wolfman Springs. Setting himself up in a nearby cabin, he slept soundly the first two nights, but on the third night, he heard howling in the distance. A short time later, the frightened hunter began to hear the creature outside his cabin. When it appeared to pass by one of the windows, he aimed and fired. The gunshots only served to rile the creature’s wrath, and it broke down the door. The hunter fired all but two rounds at hairy bipedal, but it only seems to anger more with every shot. With only two rounds left in the chamber, dawn arrived, and the light from the rising sun caused the creature to flee into the shadows of the forest.
Replica of the cabin where the Cumberland Presbyterian Church was founded in Montgomery Bell State Park. Photo 2006, by Leylander, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Just as the sun rose to banish this creature of the night, Arntz sheds some light on the legend and the history of the area. Wolfman Springs is actually Hall Springs which is located in one of the areas of MONTGOMERY BELL STATE PARK (1020 Jackson Hill Road, Burns) that is only accessible by a hike. The springs are named for the Hall family who had a homestead near the springs. The family’s home is long gone, but a small family cemetery remains nearby. A few weeks after the appearance of the Wolfman Springs article, Arntz followed up with an article about a descendant of the Hall family who grew up near the infamous springs. She denied that she ever heard anyone speak of a mysterious creature in the area.
The land that the state park now occupies was purchased by a National Park Service in 1935 to develop the Montgomery Bell National Recreation Demonstration Area. The park’s namesake is local manufacturing entrepreneur, Montgomery Bell, who was instrumental in building the local iron-smelting industry. Interestingly, even he has been pulled into the Wolfman legend. Some tellers of the story feature Mr. Bell as the local landowner, though this wouldn’t be possible as he passed away before the Civil War.
The railroad tracks where the train derailed still run their original course along the southern edge of the park. Evidently, there were several train derailments on this stretch of line, though none that specifically involved a circus train.
What is the origin of this odd story? I can attest that in my research in Southern ghost and folklore, stories involving these type of creatures appear less frequently than ghost stories. Among these stories are the tales of the Pig Woman in Cecil County and a goat-man creature in southern Maryland; the “Bunny Man” who supposedly haunts a bridge in Virginia; the infamous Mothman of Point Pleasant, West Virginia; the Skunk Ape spotted in Florida; the Lizard-Man of South Carolina; Sasquatch activity that may be associated with the haunting of Spring Villa in Opelika, Alabama and throughout the nearby Tuskegee National Forest in Macon County; and the goat-man creature that has led, like a siren, a handful of young people to their deaths at Pope Lick Trestle in Kentucky. Among these stories, I only know of one other wolfman or werewolf-like creature, and that is a story from Talbot County, Georgia that Nancy Roberts documented in her 1997 opus, Georgia Ghosts.
Interestingly, just five miles from Montgomery Bell State Park and within the same county is the small town of White Bluff. For some time, stories have circulated regarding a creature or entity that is known to prowl the community emitting a terrifying scream. Known as the White Bluff Screamer, the explanations appear to fall into two camps: one believing that the screamer is a banshee while the other camp believes the screamer is a cryptid.
Alan Brown, one of the more venerable writers on Southern ghostlore, makes the argument for the banshee camp in his 2009 work, Haunted Tennessee. Relating the “standard version” of the story, he tells of a settler building a cabin in an isolated hollow near town. However, the man and his family were plagued by a high-pitched screaming that woke them every night. Determined to bring peace, the man took his rifle and hunting to pursue the source of the screams. As the man entered the forest, the screams began anew, and the dogs bounded towards them. Though a short time later the dogs returned frightened with their tails between their legs. The settler continued towards the wailing and climbed a hill to get a view of the surrounding landscape. Reaching the summit, the hunter’s ears were besieged with the screaming once again, though this time is seemed to come from the man’s cabin. He sprinted back to his home and discovered his family’s mangled remains.
The story is not really about a banshee as they are rarely known as malevolent spirits, mostly as heralds of death. A banshee would not typically use her wails to distract a man to kill his family. According to West Virginia writer Rosemary Ellen Guiley in her 2007 compendium, Encyclopedia of Ghosts and Spirits, a banshee (or Bean Shide in Gaelic, literally “woman of the fairies”) is “a female death omen spirit of Ireland and Scotland that attaches itself to families…and manifests to herald an approaching death in the family.” She continues, “the banshee most commonly is heard singing or crying, but is not seen.” Speaking with an Irish friend of mine, he noted that banshees are generally considered harbingers and occasionally provide protection to family members when traveling alone or at night. According to him, “the only legends of the banshee killing is if she is disturbed whilst combing her hair. She is reputed to throw her comb, piercing the heart and killing her victim.”
Guiley states that legends of banshees followed the Scots and Irish immigrants who settled throughout the South. One primary legend that appears in Southern folklore is the story of the Tarboro Banshee. Originating in the town of Tarboro, North Carolina on the banks of the Tar River, the story recalls the days during the American Revolution when a patriotic miller operated a grist mill on the banks of the river. Refusing to abandon his operation at the approach of the British, he was captured and drowned in the river, but not before warning his captors of a banshee that would avenge his death.
As the miller sank beneath the brackish water of the river, a wail arose from the watery grave. A feminine form began to take shape in the mist over the river while an agonizing cry was heard on the river banks. The beautiful maiden terrorized the British soldiers responsible for the miller’s death, eventually leading all to grisly deaths. Legend still speaks of the lovely creature appearing over the river waters still mourning the miller’s early departure from this world. I have covered the story of the Tarboro banshee here.
Returning to Middle Tennessee, I need to acknowledge the other camp of thought on the White Bluff Screamer, the camp that believes that the creature may be a cryptid and not a spirit. The authors of the 2011 Nashville Haunted Handbook remark that the creature is commonly heard and sometimes even seen. “Some who see the creature report that it is a white, misty apparition that flits through the woods quickly and ominously in the night…Others report that the source of the screams is an actual creature that resembles an alpaca [a domesticated relative of the llama]: a white furry beast that walks on all fours and stands about six feet tall with a face resembling a camel.” It should also be noted that alpacas can produce a high-pitched whine or scream when frightened.
Screaming is also a purported characteristic of the Sasquatch or Bigfoot. Some witnesses have been able to record the mysterious screaming that may be produced by a sasquatch. This leads me to believe that there may be a connection between this screaming creature and the Sasquatch, though the description that this creature is a quadruped rather than a biped puts that connection into jeopardy.
Returning to the creature that may haunt “Werewolf Springs,” in recent years screaming has been reported in the area. Josh Arntz in his Werewolf Springs article ends with a report from a local teacher who “heard ‘the most blood-curdling scream’ from a wild animal at 1 a.m.” near the park inn on Lake Acorn. The teacher also reported to have heard “plenty of eerie sounds while walking through the park’s woods at night.”
There are several creatures native to the area that can produce human-like screams in the night including fox and bobcat. Regardless of whether these stories contain any truth, they have left a marvelous mythological legacy on the landscape.
Sources
Arntz, Josh. “The half-wolf, half-man of Werewolf Springs.” Dickson Herald. 28 October 2011.
Traveling through the Old Country one may find it so deeply rooted in myth that storied places crowd the landscape; by contrast, the vast American landscape is not so studded with stories, mythic or otherwise, for a variety of reasons. Americans, by their nature, are a forward thinking people who may disregard the relics of the past. With every historic site fated for a date with a bulldozer or old building that succumbs to a wrecking ball, fantastic stories are hauled off to the dump within every heap of earth, brick, steel, or wood. In places where history is not so carelessly razed in the name of progress, the myths are able to take root.
The thought occurred to me as I was on the Chattanooga Ghost Tour the other night, that in many places ghost tours are the only real keepers of local mythology in the classic oral tradition. Certainly, the stories being told on these tours are not myths in the sense of being fictitious, they often come directly from history and often include experiences that have occurred to the guides or their associates. But that these ghost stories are a way of explaining local history makes them myth-like. Ghost stories themselves also preserve some of the more gruesome and salacious moments from history, moments that can help to add living and emotive flesh to the skeletons of those long dead.
The original terracotta jail sign from the original Hamilton County Jail has been preserved in front of the current Justice Center. Photo 2017, by Lewis O. Powell IV, all rights reserved.
When the Hamilton County Jail was demolished in 1976 to make way for the modern Hamilton County Justice Center, wrecking crews presumably hauled away the remains of the jail’s gallows that had once stood in the building’s basement. The final executions on this gallows were of two young African-American men who had been charged with the murder of a saloon keeper. News of the execution appeared in a number of national papers including the Evening Star in Washington, D.C. which included this note on page two of its January 11, 1895 edition:
TWO MURDERERS HANGED.
George Mapp and Buddy Wooten Punished for Their Crime.
CHATTANOOGA, Tenn., January 11. – George Mapp and Buddy Wooten, two young negroes, were hanged in the execution room of the county jail a few minutes after 8 o’clock this morning. Wooten died a Catholic, and Rev. Father Walsh was with him on the scaffold.
Mapp, however, refused to have a minister with him. He requested that his body be thrown in the river, and said he would be back tonight to haunt the sheriffs and others who had anything to do with his conviction.
The two negroes murdered Marion L. Ross, an aged white saloon keeper, on Saturday night, December 17, 1892. Robbery was their intention in committing the crime. Wooten confessed, implicating Mapp.
It’s interesting to see Mapp’s threat (some newspapers report that it was Wooten making the threat) included in the newspaper accounts of the execution. Near the gallows in the basement of the jail, there was a series of holding cells—a kind of death row, if you will. Even after Mapp and Wooten’s executions when the gallows sat unused, these holding cells were used. It is reported that when one of these cells was occupied by a particularly rowdy prisoner, a mist would appear and pass over the cell calming the prisoner within.
According to our tour guide, Kevin Bartolomucci, a current jail employee has also noted that when a rowdy prisoner is placed in the holding cell in the processing area, a few times an odd mist has appeared and calmed the prisoner. It seems that death and the transition from and old building to a modern one hasn’t banished the spirits of these two prisoners.
Tour guide Kevin Bartolomucci spins tales about the Hamilton County Courthouse behind him. Photo 2017 by Lewis O. Powell IV, all rights reserved.
The Chattanooga Ghost Tour was established in 2007 by Amy Petulla, and it has grown in the ten years it has haunted the streets of Chattanooga. As she was establishing the tour, Amy also joined forces with Jessica Penot to write Haunted Chattanooga, which was published in 2011. Amy sent me a personal invitation to take part in the tour’s grand reopening and tenth-anniversary last weekend. The tour recently had to relocate its offices after the collapse of the 1876 building that housed the offices along with a restaurant. Fortunately, the collapse affected the front portion of the structure only affecting the restaurant, though the building was found to be structurally unsound and demolished.
The new office has a marvelous steampunk feel and visitors are greeted by a talking skull appropriately named Yorick. The new location has also afforded Petulla the ability to introduce a new tour that was debuted along with the festivities. The “Murder and Mayhem Tour” leads visitors on a pleasant walk through some of Chattanooga’s most harrowing murders and history, many of which have left spiritual residue. Along the way, patrons are introduced to murderers, their victims, prostitutes, and a kindly theatre patron, all inhabitants of the pantheon of Chattanooga myths. Besides the new tour, Petulla offers a handful of different tour experiences, some of which involve using various types of ghost hunting instruments. Of the many ghost tours I have taken, this tour ranks among the best for keeping the myths of Southern history alive.
One of the more iconic views along the route of the Chattanooga Ghost Tour: looking up West 8th Street towards the Dome Building, formerly home to the Chattanooga Times. Photo 2017 by Lewis O. Powell IV, all rights reserved.
On your next jaunt through Chattanooga, be sure to enjoy an introduction to the mythological side of this city!
Please visit the tour’s website for further information. https://chattanoogaghosttours.com/.
Sources
Chattanooga Ghost Tours. “Murder & Mayhem Tour.” Led by Kevin Bartolomucci. 10 June 2017.
“Two Murderers Hanged.” Evening Star (Washington, D.C.) 11 January 1895.
East Hill Cemetery East State Street Bristol, Tennessee and Virginia
The city of Bristol straddles the border between Virginia and Tennessee with East State Street marking the state line west of East Hill Cemetery. The cemetery itself is divided into nearly equal portions as it passes through the cemetery. The primary entrance, however, is located on the Tennessee side.
The death of a child is always traumatic, though it was especially harrowing when five-year-old Nellie Gaines passed away in 1857 as her family was preparing to leave the area. Worried that the pitiful grave would be neglected and forgotten, the family sought a proper place for their daughter. One of Bristol’s founders, Samuel Goodson, owned a hill east of town and suggested it as a proper burial place.
A wagon bore the child’s casket up the hill prodded by a branch snapped off by the driver. After the service, the branch was stuck into the earth to mark the grave. The branch grew into a tree atop the grave until the early 1970s. Over the years the hill began to collect graves and eventually became an official cemetery.
East Hill Cemetery by Dan Grogan, 2013. Courtesy of Flickr.
This hill had been the scene of strange occurrences for many years prior to its use as a cemetery. During the latter days of the 18th century, this area was a favored hunting ground for General Evan Shelby who lived nearby. As the old general developed dementia in his old age, he took to wandering his old hunting grounds which included East Hill. After his death passersby still spotted the form of the old general still rambling about the hillside.
Even stranger was the image of a burning tree that was spotted on rainy nights. Brave souls who ventured into the cemetery in search of the torch-like tree never found any sign of fire. A local reverend built a home on a nearby hill with a good view of East Hill and he and his family regularly witnessed this phenomenon that they dubbed the “burning tree ghost.”
Sometime after the cemetery was formally established, a man taking a shortcut through the cemetery late on a snowy night heard the sounds of children playing. Thinking the sounds odd, he stopped momentarily to listen and was shocked to see three white figures moving towards him. He fled. Over the years, many others have reported similar sounds on cold, snowy evenings.
Local historian Bud Phillips tells a more recent story involving a woman searching for the grave of her great-grandmother. After tramping through the cemetery and have no luck finding her great-grandmother’s marker the woman decided to give up. As she walked back to her car she saw the strange figure of a woman standing not far away wearing a pink gown and pointing to a shrub. The figure vanished and the intrepid visitor decided to take a closer look at the shrub the woman had been pointing at. Lo and behold, the shrub was covering her great-grandmother’s marker. A short time later, the woman remembered that her great-grandmother had been buried wearing a pink gown.
With the activity here, it seems that East Hill Cemetery may also straddle the line between life and death.
There are several other places that “straddle the line” that I have covered. Two theatres on State Street–the Paramount Center for the Performing Arts on the Tennessee side, and the Cameo Theatre on the Virginia side–have been covered in my article, “Phantoms of the Operas, Y’all–13 Haunted Southern Theatres.” I have also covered the ghosts of the Bristol Train Station in Virginia.
Old Hardeman County Jail 305 East Market Street Bolivar, Tennessee
On a recent investigation of the old Hardeman County Jail in the small, but well-haunted town of Bolivar (pronounced BAH-lih-vur to rhyme with Oliver), paranormal investigators had a long conversation with a spirit that requested a chocolate milkshake. One wonders if milkshakes are unavailable in the afterlife. Certainly they’re unavailable in Bolivar after midnight.
Looking at the building from the all-seeing eye of Google Streetview, the old jail is a fairly unremarkable mid-century modern building as one heads out from downtown. According to a recent article from Mississippi News Now, this structure possesses several dark secrets. For one, the building is constructed atop a cemetery. Construction crews in the late 1950s did not relocate the graves on the site, choosing instead to simply build over them.
Of course, during the time that it served as a jail a great deal of sadness filled the building. Much of that sad energy continues to linger. A black figure has been reported walking through the booking area, the spirit of an inmate who took his life remains in his former cell, and the sounds of a woman’s sobbing emanates from the cells that once held females. The spirit of a former sheriff who also died in the building is sometimes felt. On this recent investigation he may the source of an EVP captured at the door to the former sheriff’s office.
EPIC Haunted Tours is now conducting investigations in the old jail and in other historic buildings throughout Bolivar including The Pillars and the Little Courthouse Museum—located just a few doors down from the old jail. I have covered one other location in town, Magnolia Manor, which was “certified” as being haunted several years ago. If you visit Bolivar, you might consider dropping off a chocolate milkshake at the old jail.
N.B. This article was edited and updated 21 April 2020.
In the mountains of southern Appalachia, Gatlinburg is one of the premier tourist towns. Growth in tourism here has been exponential over the past few decades, as Gatlinburg, nearby Pigeon Forge, and Sevierville have fought to capture the most market share of tourists. With that growth has come countless tourist inns, motels and hotels; restaurants; candy stores; t-shirt shops; and even haunted house attractions. While most of these are inauthentic experiences created to attract tourists, in Gatlinburg one has to only look as far as a few hotels and restaurants to find authentic ghosts.
View of the Gatlinburg Space Needle, ca. 2005. The Space Needle sits at the foot of Historic Nature Trail. The Edgewater Hotel is located across Cliff Branch. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Before it became a burgeoning mountain tourist town, Gatlinburg was a quiet hamlet with very little crime. With the arrival of hordes of tourists has come crime; some of them horrific. In his Ghosts and Haunts of Tennessee, Christopher K. Coleman writes about the Edgewater Hotel and Conference Center (402 River Road) where in 1972, a 7-year-old child plunged to her death from a hotel room balcony. When the police began to suspect the father’s involvement in his child’s death, the parents fled. Their car overturned on a winding mountain road pitching the vehicle, and its occupants into the Little Pigeon River. According to Coleman, the child is seen on the anniversary of her death standing in the stream below the hotel pointing towards the balcony she fell from. While this is a fascinating story, I can find nothing to corroborate the horrible details of this event.
The view down River Road towards the Edgewater Hotel which rises above the trees in the middle of the photo. Photo 2014, by Evan Nichols, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Branching off from US-441, the main road through Gatlinburg, is Historic Nature Trail which was the scene of two horrible crimes in the 1980s. In July of 1980 two teenage girls visiting from Kentucky were found dead at the Holiday Inn. One girl was found in a stairwell leading to the roof while her friend was found a few hours later in her room lying on the floor next to the bed. The girls, friends from Crestwood, Kentucky, were taking a short vacation to Gatlinburg before the start of their senior year of high school. After going out to a local lounge and steakhouse, The Rafters, the girls were seen leaving with a local drifter. He was arrested the following day and charged with strangling the teens.
The intersection of US-441 and Historic Nature Trail in 2014. Photo by Evan Nichols, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Like many ghost stories, later retellings often embellish the circumstances of the murders, and this is no different. Coleman’s and internet versions of the events have one girl being drowned in a bathtub while her friend was strangled and her body dragged to the roof; contemporary articles on the murder from one of the state’s most prestigious papers, Nashville’s The Tennessean, dispute those details. One article does note that the girls were staying on the fourth floor in separate rooms: 401 and 413. The ghost stories do center on room 413, so these stories are correct in that aspect.
It seems that reports of paranormal activity in 413 mostly concern odd noises within the room, noises that often frighten staff working there. But this isn’t the only haunting within the hotel. A spirit named Alvin, supposedly the spirit of a longtime employee, has been reported in the kitchen, though this story cannot be corroborated. Alvin seems to cause more poltergeist-type activity with kitchen utensils flying through the air. Another more spectacular ghost story has been told about the hotel’s seventh floor where a scout leader murdered members of his troop. This is a story that would have probably found its way to the front page of The Tennessean and many other newspapers. No information exists on this so it must be chalked up as just a story.
The Holiday Inn was later renamed the Garden Plaza Hotel (formerly 520 Historic Nature Trail) and operated until fairly recently when it was demolished. The hotel has been replaced with a Hampton Inn It’s unknown if any of the spirits have remained here.
If you follow Historic Nature Trail from the site of the old Holiday Inn back towards US-441, you’ll pass a very new Courtyard by Marriott. It occupies the site of one of Gatlinburg’s most notorious murders. On 13 September 1986, a desk clerk and security guard were brutally murdered by a pair of thieves intending to rob the inn. Two lives were snuffed out violently for $499 and the purse of the young desk clerk. Shortly after the murders a shadowy figure was frequently seen in the parking lot and a guest was awakened to see a young woman standing at the foot of his bed whose description matched that of the young clerk. Despite the demolition of the Rocky Top Village Inn(formerly 311 Historic Nature Trail) stories of the horrific tragedy and the resulting spirits continue to be told.
One of Gatlinburg’s oldest tragic spirits still resides at the Greenbrier Restaurant(370 Newman Road). Originally the Greenbrier Lodge, this quaint log inn catered to wealthy hunters and tourists. The lodge was renamed and reopened as the Greenbrier Restaurant in 1980. Legend holds that at some point in its early history, a young lady named Lydia stayed here on the eve of her wedding. On her wedding day she dressed in white and headed into town to marry. When her fiancée failed to show at the church Lydia returned to the lodge heart-stricken. Still clad in her wedding dress Lydia hung herself from the rafters over the second floor landing. A postscript added to one version of the story states that days later Lydia’s fiancée was found dead after being mauled by a mountain cat.
Still broken-hearted, Lydia roams the Greenbrier Restaurant generally frightening staff and guests, and causing a bit of trouble when she knocks food off the shelves of the restaurant’s pantry. The sad revenant has possibly been observed by the owners who saw a figure pass a doorway after closing time. Some years ago, the young son of the owners did see a woman who vanished when he called his father’s attention to it. In 2007 the Greenbrier’s owners allowed the members of the East Tennessee Paranormal Research Society investigate the restaurant. The investigation did capture some photographic anomalies, though the best evidence was an EVP. In it a female investigator addressed the spirit, “God bless you, Lydia, I’d be happy to hear from you if you’d like to speak to me.” A moment later a female voice cheekily responded, “Then I’m not dead.”
Sources
Coleman, Christopher K. Ghost and Haunts of Tennessee. Winston-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2011.
Kinney, Rachel. “’Rocky Top’ murderer killed in prison fight.” WBIR. 11 March 2015.
Madden, Tom. “2 women found slain at resort.” The Tennessean. 30 July 1980.
Nauman, Tesa. “Paranormal groups hunts for G’burg ghost.” Sevier County News. 23 February 2007.
“Strangled teen’s mother thought Gatlinburg was safe.” The Tennessean. 31 July 1980.
Whittle, Dan. “’Ghost Lydia’ legend adds to Smoky Mountains haunting haze & lore.” Mufreesboro Post. 19 October 2014.
Williams, Michael. “Walking among the dead.” Tennessee Star Journal. 15 October 2014.
Earnestine & Hazel’s 531 South Main Street Memphis, Tennessee
N.B. Revised and edited 21 February 2019.
On Christmas Day 2006, Karen Brownlee, bartender and manager of Earnestine & Hazel’s in Memphis, was discussing the death of “The Godfather of Soul,” James Brown, earlier that morning. As the discussion continued the voice of the recently silenced singer erupted from the jukebox proclaiming, “I feel good!” The shocked employees stared at each other as Brown joyfully crooned, “I got you!” Was the soul singer speaking through the jukebox or was it just a coincidence?
At Earnestine & Hazel’s, the jukebox is known to have a mind of its own. It is known to play according to discussion or sometimes the thoughts of patrons and employees at the bar. Another time a group of friends celebrating a woman’s divorce were greeted by the jukebox blaring Tammy Wynette’s “D-I-V-O-R-C-E.” Some time later a paranormal investigator was discussing exorcisms and the jukebox cheekily piped up from the corner with the Rolling Stones’ “Sympathy for the Devil.” Interestingly, many of the performers of these songs passed across the floors of this most historic dive bar, and some even slept here when Earnestine and Hazel were renting the rooms upstairs.
Sisters Earnestine Mitchell and Hazel Jones owned this bar for many years. The unassuming commercial building standing in the shadow of Memphis Central Station was initially a pharmacy. When the pharmacist, Abe Plough, became famous from his line of hair products and Coppertone brand suntan lotion, he gave this modest building to the sisters. They ran the business as a café and rented rooms upstairs by the hour. While not outright supporting the trade of the many prostitutes who plied their trade here, Earnestine and Hazel chose to turn a blind eye. Earnestine’s husband owned a nightclub nearby and would often bring the performers to the café after their shows. Many of the best names in music ranging from B.B. King to Wilson Pickett to Tina Turner passed through the doors of Earnestine and Hazel’s establishment.
Earnestine and Hazel’s, 2012, by Thomas R. Machnitzki, courtesy of Wikipedia.
In turn, Earnestine and Hazel became confidants to many patrons and, as Karen Brownlee writes, continue to do so even after their deaths in the 1990s. Tragedy struck Brownlee in 2007 when her son was shot and killed. Sobbing over the death of her son, she sat at the end of the bar and began to talk to God and the late Mrs. Earnestine in earnest. After asking for a sign that her son was alright she noticed a baby bird emerge from one of the booths, walk towards the door and fly off. Moments later and older woman entered the bar and asked if she was ok. Brownlee told her what had happened and the woman comforted her. The woman left but soon returned with a sterling silver necklace with a bird. Brownlee had not seen the woman before nor since, but she’s adamant that it was Mrs. Earnestine.
Not only are the stalwart former owners still around, but many of the former patrons are still living it up at Earnestine and Hazel’s. Former owner George Russell would regularly hear voices and clinking glasses when the bar was empty. The sounds of partying would carry on long after the living patrons had departed. But its not only sounds that are experienced, apparitions are sometimes seen here as well. The apparition of a man carrying a white pillar candle has been observed walking in the bar and paranormal investigators captured the apparition walking on the street in front of the bar about 3 AM.
Stories circulate of prostitutes either committing suicide or being murdered upstairs as well. Perhaps that explains the patrons who feel someone grab their hands at the top of the staircase. This feeling is sometimes accompanied by an overwhelming sense of sadness. When in Memphis if you wish to spend some time among the past, stop into Earnestine & Hazel’s, enjoy a Soul Burger, say hello to the sisters, perhaps take the hand of a long-dead prostitute at the top of the stairs, and maybe the jukebox will cheekily pipe up with an appropriate song to accompany your visit.
Sources
Brownlee, Karen. “This is what it’s like to work at the Most Haunted Bar in America.” 31 May 2015.
Coleman, Christopher K. Ghosts and Haunts of Tennessee. Winston-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2011.
History. Earnestine and Hazel’s. Accessed 29 February 2016.
Holmes, Kevin. “Is Memphis a hotbed for paranormal activity?” ABC 24. 29 October 2010.
N.B. This page was edited and revised 26 May 2020.
Among theatre folks there’s an old saying, “no good theatre, worth its salt, will be without a ghost.” The South is not immune to this phenomenon and its landscape is dotted with many theatres claiming to be haunted. The variety of theatres is astonishing; from 1920s-era movie palaces, to opera houses to performance spaces that have been created out of old buildings, and even cinemas, so many of these sites have wonderful and creepy stories to tell.
Mary G. Hardin Center for Cultural Arts 501 Broad Street Gadsden, Alabama
This prominent corner of Broad and 5th Streets has witnessed much of Gadsden’s history. A home stood on this corner until 1860 when the First Baptist Church erected a church here with a graveyard surrounding the building. Around the turn of the 20th century, the church was sold and the graves—most of them—were relocated to nearby Forrest Cemetery. A furniture store operated on the site until the building of the Imperial Theatre which opened in 1920. The theatre changed hands a few years later, was extensively remodeled and reopened as the Princess Theatre in 1926. The Princess—a vaudeville and motion picture house—provided the citizens of Gadsden the utmost in comfort and technology until it’s destruction by fire in 1963.
The Mary G. Harden Center for Cultural Arts on a grey day in October 2019. Photo by Lewis O. Powell IV, all rights reserved.
The starkly modern Mary G. Hardin Center for Cultural Arts now occupies the corner. Within its modern corridors, galleries, studios and performance spaces there are spirits. Betty McCoy reports that two visitors encountered the spirit of a child who was apparently quite confused. The spirit of a young girl appeared at the Princess Theatre just after it opened in 1920 and many patrons encountered the young and quite curious entity. The identity of this young entity has always been a mystery. Was she attached to one of the graves formerly on the site? Is she one of the spirits in the modern arts center? As long as spirits linger, the questions will remain.
Sources
Goodson, Mike. Haunted Etowah County, Alabama. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2011.
Hardin Center for Cultural Arts. “About the Center for Cultural Arts.” Accessed 18 March 2013.
McCoy, Betty S. Haints, Haunts and Hullabaloos: Etowah and Surrounding Counties. CreateSpace, 2011.
H Street Playhouse 1365 H Street, Northeast Washington, D.C.
Things have a strange way of disappearing at the H Street Playhouse. Some believe that these odd disappearances may be linked to a spirit within the old theatre, besides, these disappearances are truly strange. Take for instance, the matter of the disappearance of the theatre’s router from the office during a meeting. Members of one of the theatre companies that uses the theatre were meeting in the building when the Wi-Fi suddenly went out. Heading back to the office, which was only accessible through the room where the meeting was being held, the router seems to have completely vanished.
H Street Playhouse, 2012, by Smallbones. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Costumes pieces and props also have a tendency to disappear right before performances. A t-shirt hanging on a rack disappeared without a trace while prop money seemed to have departed briefly from the bag it was stored in during the show. As money was required during the scene, the actors pulled together what bills they had on them to use, though when the props master opened the bag to dole out money for the upcoming scene, the prop money had reappeared.
If the kleptomaniac of the H Street Playhouse is, in fact, a spirit, then there is the question of identity. Tour guide and author Tim Krepp speculates that the spirit may either be the shade of Bruce Robey, who founded the H Street Playhouse with his wife, or perhaps the spirit of a young boy who was severely burned in a fire across the street in 1905. But, perhaps the spirit lies somewhere in the playhouse’s marvelous history.
The Romanesque Revival-styled building was built in 1928 as an automobile showroom. At the time, this particular stretch of H Street boasted so many dealerships it was called “Autombile Row.” This building served as a showroom until 1942 when the building was renovated for use as a cinema for the African-American community that occupied this area. As the social upheavals of the mid-20th century led to the neighborhood’s decline, the building was used for a variety of purposes until its conversion to a live theatre in 2002.
The H Street Playhouse closed in 2012. A gym currently occupies the building.
Sources
Bell, T. David. National Register of Historic Places nomination form for Plymouth Theatre. December 2003.
Krepp, Tim. Capitol Hill Haunts. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2012.
Coconut Grove Playhouse 3500 Main Highway Miami, Florida
The Coconut Grove Playhouse is like a famous actor in a vegetative state. The doctors are faced with a hard choice: unplug him from life-support to let him die or revive him with an expensive, experimental treatment and hope that he makes a full recovery. As of now, the doctors are still arguing over the best course to take.
This most famous of Florida theatres went suddenly into a vegetative state in 2006 under mounting debt. Since the theatre company’s closure, the theatre has been embroiled in mounting drama between a cast of politicians, preservationists, thespians and developers. Occupying a prominent corner on Main Highway at Charles Avenue, the location has developers salivating over the money that could come from a luxury condominium development on the site. Some government officials, preservationists and thespians would reopen the playhouse as a theatre and hopefully revive its cherished name. Before its closure, the theatre was a major economic driver in the Coconut Grove, one of the oldest neighborhoods in the city.
Coconut Grove Playhouse, 2011, by Ebyabe. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
As the drama fills courtrooms, offices and boardrooms outside of the theatre, faces have been seen peering from the buildings upper windows: spiritual guardians of this 1927 edifice. Ghost tours pass by the site regularly as the Mediterranean Revival structure sits forlornly with its doors locked. The theatre opened gloriously as the Player’s State Theatre on New Year’s Day 1927—a jewel in the Paramount crown. All the amenities of the best theatres were incorporated here including a huge Wurlitzer Concert Grand Organ and air conditioning. Riding high on the great Florida Land Boom of the 20s, the theatre’s fortunes ran out when the real estate bubble burst. The theatre closed in the early 1930s. It was not until 1955 that it would resume use as a theatre, but only after being transformed for use as a live-performance venue.
It struggled even as a legitimate theatre, though it did host a grand assortment of prominent actors and productions on its boards. Samuel Becket’s Waiting for Godot had its American premiere here and the stage has seen the work of such noted thespians as Jose Ferrer, Hume Cronyn, Jessica Tandy, and Ethel Merman. But, until the actors in the current drama come to a resolution, the theatre and the spirits peering from its windows will continue to wait for Godot’s eminent arrival.
Sources
Bandell, Brian. “Coconut Grove Playhouse hit with foreclosure.” South Florida Business Journal. 17 January 2013.
Feldman, Hal. “Do ghosts walk among us?” Pinecrest Tribune. 28 June 2012.
Uguccioni, Ellen and Sarah E. Easton. Designation Report: Coconut Grove Playhouse. City of Miami. 2005.
Viglucci, Andres. “Coconut Grove Playhouse board decides not to fight imminent state takeover.” Miami Herald. 2 October 2012.
Viglucci, Andres. “Plan for larger theatre at coconut Grove Playhouse remains alive.” Miami Herald. 12 March 2015.
Viglucci, Andres. “State says shuttered Coconut Grove Playhouse could be sold to private bidders.” Miami Herald. 14 December 2012.
Viglucci, Andres. and Christine Dolan. “FIU, Miami-Dade in possible deal to save Grove Playhouse.” Miami Herald. 13 March 2013.
Springer Opera House 103 10th Street Columbus, Georgia
As a kid, the Springer Opera House was the first local haunting I was familiar with. I recall the intense jealousy I felt when my sister got invited to a birthday party at the Springer and I wasn’t allowed to tag along to “see the ghost.” As a theatre major at Columbus State University, I visited the Spring a number of times and saw a few performances, though still I was distracted by the fact that there may be ghosts wandering about the antique promenades and still taking their seats in the boxes on either side of the stage.
In school, I also began to hear stories from my friends who had worked in the old theatre. Some of the experiences seemed incredible—like the story of a sound technician being levitated in the booth—while others seemed quite credible—a friend’s encounter with a little girl in a hallway who seemingly wanted to play tag but disappeared. When I got hired to work on a book about this theatre, I was excited to possibly experience the spirits there myself.
Interior of the Springer Opera House, 1979. Courtesy of the Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
I was asked by F. Clason Kyle to work as an editor on his book, In Order of Appearance, a history of the theatre and the many famous personalities—Edwin Booth and John Philip Sousa to Minnie Maddern Fiske and Burt Reynolds—to have trod its boards. Mr. Kyle and I first began by organizing much of the archival material the theatre had. We had our own little room stuffed with boxes of old programs, promotional materials, business papers and the occasional artifact. Among the artifacts was a beaded purse once owned by famed Polish actress, Helena Modjeska. We weren’t sure where the purse was, so we went looking for it.
Before we left the archives room, Mr. Kyle and I had been sorting through the various boxes. We returned to the room after a search of about an hour and I walked straight back to the box I had been searching through. There, sitting on top of the papers within the box was an antique purse. While it was not the Modjeska purse, almost as a consolation prize, an antique pocket watch had been placed on top of the purse. Obviously, if the purse had been there as we were discussing the Modjeska purse I would have asked about it. But to appear after we returned from the search was very odd. Perhaps the Springer’s ghost is similar to the H Street Playhouse’s kleptomaniac spirit.
During my two years working on the book, I also heard footsteps on the second floor and a door slamming shut by itself during a rehearsal. But many others have had more spectacular experiences. The educational director whose office was located on the second floor regularly saw a man walking past her doorway. She also felt a strong bond, motherly really, towards the spirit of a little girl that had been reported throughout the building as well.
There is apparently a host of spirits within the 1871 building, though it seems that the male spirit and the little girl may be the more active. The theatre’s artistic director, Paul Pierce, wrote a book about many of the experiences in the Victorian theatre including his own experience. Pierce had arrived at the theatre early one morning to open the tool room for technicians who were setting up for an event. As he walked through the scene shop, Pierce realized there was a man walking next to him. “Slight of build, he was a young gentleman with a thin, unruly, Van Dyke beard and wearing an ill-fitting tweed suit.”
Pierce walked through the shop with this figure playfully mirroring his stride through the room. They turned a corner and the figure walked behind a screen leaning against the wall. The figure did not emerge from the other side.
Sources
Kyle, F. Clason and Lewis O. Powell, IV, editor. In Order of Appearance: Chronicling 135 Years on America’s Most Celebrated Stage. Columbus, GA: Communicorp, 2006.
Pierce, Paul. The Springer Ghost Book. Columbus, GA: Communicorp, 2003.
Paramount Arts Center 1300 Winchester Avenue Ashland, Kentucky
The Paramount Arts Center gained its ghost fairly early in the theatre’s history when, as legend holds, a worker somehow became entangled in the rigging above the stage and died. If this act was an accident or suicide is unknown, but strange things began to be reported in the building. Over time, theatre staff members dubbed the entity “Paramount Joe.”
Just seven months after the Ashland Opera House was destroyed by fire in 1931, the Paramount Theatre opened as a movie palace for the citizens of the city. When the Art Moderne style theatre closed its doors in 1971, locals purchased the building as a performing arts center.
Paramount Arts Center, 2007, by YoungAmerican. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
In 1992, local musician Billy Ray Cyrus (father of Miley Cyrus) chose the theatre for the filming of the video of his hit song, “Achy Breaky Heart.” While there, he was told the story of “Paramount Joe,” and Cyrus claimed that he spoke with the spirit during a break and signed a poster for Paramount Joe. Some years later when an executive removed the poster from its place in the box office the staff returned the next day to find all the pictures had fallen from the walls some having their glass and frames broken. After Paramount Joe’s signed poster was restored, all has returned to normal in terms of the pictures.
Sources
Ball, Linda Larimore. National Register of Historic Places Nomination Form for the Paramount Theatre. October 1975.
Abbey Players Theatre 200 South State Street Abbeville, Louisiana
The Abbey Players had its founding in 1976 when a small group of thespians staged a successful production of Neil Simon’s Last of the Red Hot Lovers. The theatre company was incorporated the next year with the intention of presenting quality theatre to the region. After spending a few years staging shows at various venues throughout town, the group began renting an old building on South State Street. Previously housing the Reaux Lumber Company, the building dates to 1908 and was originally opened as a saloon.
After adapting the building for use as an arena stage, the company settled in and now produces 3-4 shows per season as well as children’s productions. Additionally, company members have had experiences in the building that may be paranormal. These include the shade of an elderly woman and the voice of a young girl among other unexplained noises. An investigation by Louisiana Spirits Paranormal Investigations captured a number of personal experiences for the team as well as EVPs.
A couple of these experiences are highlighted in Chere Coen’s Haunted Lafayette, Louisiana. During the investigation, Louisiana Spirits discovered a cold spot that seemed to move around a dressing room. The investigators also heard a disembodied voice greet them with a “hi.”
Patapsco Female Institute 3655 Church Road Ellicott City, Maryland
The immortal words of Shakespeare have been uttered within the walls of the Patapsco Female Institute for almost two centuries. Even with only the exterior stone walls remaining, the ruins now provide a perfect backdrop for productions by the Chesapeake Shakespeare Company. Shakespeare’s numerous ghosts may even provide a camouflage for the ghosts that reside among the romantic ruins.
The Patapsco Female Institute opened in 1837 as an elite finishing school for young women. Among some of the more well known alumnae is Winnie Davis, daughter of Confederate President Jefferson Davis. Sally Randolph, the great granddaughter of Thomas Jefferson, served as a headmistress. It was during this time in the balmy days leading up to the Civil War that a daughter of a Southern planter was enrolled here.
An illustration of the Patapsco Female Institute in 1857, from The Book of Great Railway Celebrations of 1857.
The young girl hated the school, longed for home and her father would not allow her to return home. The student contracted pneumonia and her body left the school in a coffin. The student’s spirit, however, has remained to wander the ruins of her former school.
The school closed its doors in 1891 and throughout the 20th century the building served as variety of uses including a convalescent home after World War I, a private residence and a theatre. After local officials condemned the building in the late 1950s, the owner gutted the building of its woodwork leaving just the yellow-tinted local stone walls standing. The space is now owned and operated by the Howard County Government as a historic site and an events space.
The white-gowned apparition of the former student still wanders the grounds.
Sources
Hannon, Jean O. Maryland Historic Trust Worksheet for Patapsco Female Institute. January 1978.
Hirsch, Rona S. “Ghostly images, spirited debate.” Baltimore Sun. 31 October 2001.
Cinemark Movies 8 Mall at Barnes Crossing 1001 Barnes Crossing Road Tupelo, Mississippi
An entrance to the Mall at Barnes Crossing, 2015. Photo by Mike Kalasnik, courtesy of Wikipedia.
Any location can be haunted. While most people would not expect to encounter a spirit within a fast food restaurant, big-box retailer (like Wal-Mart or Toys R Us) or a recently constructed building, it does happen. In some cases, recent tragic events may spur such a haunting, but other times, there is no obvious reason at all. Such is the case of this haunted multiplex theatre. According to CinemaTreasures.org, this theatre was opened in 1992, seating 1920 people and a couple spirits. A female spirit, nicknamed Lola, quite mischievously moves things and has been seen peering into the break room trashcan. She apparently gets the brunt of the blame when things go wrong or missing. A male spirit seems to be more elusive and sticks to the projection room.
Steed, Bud. The Haunted Natchez Trace. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2012.
Mountainside Theatre 688 Drama Drive Cherokee, North Carolina
Part of my own heart lies in the mountains of Western North Carolina around Cherokee. While I was in college I spent the three greatest summers of my life working on the historical drama, Unto These Hills, which has been performed at the Mountainside Theatre since 1950. It’s a humbling experience to be able to tell the story of the Cherokee people who have existed in this area for millennia. Even more humbling is being able to tell that story surrounded by the spirits of the characters and their living descendants.
The theatre is truly a sacred space where we can commune with the spirits of the past, both figuratively and literally. From my first day here, we were always made aware of the presence of spirits in this enormous amphitheatre. Among the host of spirits are Cherokee, sacred spirits from Cherokee mythology (see my entry on my own experience with the Cherokee little people) and former cast members. Some of these spirits can be truly frightening while others provide comfort.
Entrance to the Mountainside Theatre, 2012, by Lewis O. Powell, IV. All rights reserved.
In recent years, the Cherokee Historical Association—which operates the drama as well as the Oconaluftee Indian Village (it’s also haunted)—has operated a “Haunted Village” attraction around Halloween. This includes a ghost walk through the theatre and cast housing. In 2013, a zombie run was held at the theatre. During this event participants were chased through the theatre complex and cast housing by a variety of zombies. This included an area just behind the theatre called the ready room. This space is a partially enclosed area where actors may wait once they have put on their costumes. On the wall here is an old pay phone.
The ready room phone, 2014, by Lewis O. Powell, IV. All rights reserved.
I was told this story last summer when I was working in Cherokee. One evening in 2013, an hour or so after the zombie run the local police department received a panicked phone call from the Mountainside Theatre. A terror-filled voice begged for help from the theatre. The Cherokee Police Department responded and sent police up the driveway behind the theatre. The theatre complex was quiet and empty without a living soul to be found. The call had been traced to the theatre pay phone. It was discovered, however, that the phone was disconnected.
This is one of countless stories that have been told about the theatre.
Sources
Connor, William P., Jr. History of the Cherokee Historical Association 1946-1982. Cherokee, NC: Cherokee Historical Association, 1983.
Dock Street Theatre 135 Church Street Charleston, South Carolina
St. Philip’s Episcopal Church aggressively pushes itself into Church Street. Its columned porches thrust out so far that the street must curve to accommodate it. Above the street, the tremendous spire rises like an upright, moral finger, a reminder of the moral duties of the citizens of The Holy City. In the next block south of the church and within the shadow of the spire sits the Dock Street Theatre grinning garishly with its whimsical columns at St. Philip’s and the stringent Gothic Revival face of the French Huguenot Church directly across Church Street.
Theatre has always thumbed its nose at the self-righteous morality of good, church-going folk while often lampooning their foibles and failures on its boards, pulling down the saints from their lofty niches. In turn, the righteous have worked to reign in and silence the heckling theatre. This certainly was the case in Colonial America, a place still reeking of the Puritanism and strict morality that afflicted and bound the earliest settlers. Theatre most certainly struggled to gain a foothold on this steep religious mountain. The original Dock Street Theatre opened its doors in 1736 as, quite possibly, the second oldest edifice devoted to theatrical performance in the colonies.
As a part of a city in its early evolution, the original structure lasted a little less than two decades before that spark of a city’s growth, fire, reduced it to a hollowed shell of brick. The theatre was rebuilt and remained a theatre through the remainder of the 18th century. In 1809 the structure became home to the Calder House Hotel (later known as the Planter’s Hotel) run by Alexander Calder—an ancestor of the 20th century American artist of the same name—to serve wealthy visitors to the city. During the Great Depression, the Works Progress Administration cobbled together the collection of old buildings on this site into the current reincarnation of the Dock Street Theatre which incorporates an 18th century styled theatre and possibly a few brick walls dating to the original 1736 theatre.
Dock Street Theatre, 2011. Photo by Lewis O. Powell, IV. All rights reserved.
The building incorporates a certain spiritual fabric within its aged physical fabric. Most sources refer to two spirits who reside within the old theatre, though I venture that with the Dock Street Theatre’s long history, there’s also quite a good bit of residual energy manifesting itself.
One of the spirits has been identified as the great British thespian, Junius Brutus Booth. Renowned for his portrayals of Shakespearean characters, Booth fathered three sons who were also destined for the stage: Junius Brutus Jr., Edwin and John Wilkes, three thespians who left their mark on the theatrical world and one who would leave a mark upon the world stage. Edwin followed in his father’s footsteps to become one of the greatest tragedians of his day whilst Junius Jr. found better success in the managing of theatres. John Wilkes earned his notoriety as Abraham Lincoln’s assassin.
According to numerous—mostly paranormal in nature—sources, Booth the elder did stay in the Planter’s Hotel and that the well-dressed gentleman’s spirit seen in and around the theatre is his shade. Though it does ask the question of why would Booth haunt this hotel of all the numerous hotels where he stayed? According to the managing director of the theatre Booth was an alcoholic and possibly mentally unstable. During a stay in Charleston Booth allegedly beat his manager with a fire iron. Just as modern actors and performers are prone to bouts of bad behavior, so were the actors and performers of old. It seems this may belong to the phenomenon of historic landmarks picking among their most famous patrons or residents in order to identify their spirits.
Nevertheless, the spirit is still seen within the theatre. A man in a tall hat and overcoat is sometimes seen in the balcony and may sit in on rehearsals. In her Ghosts and Legends of Charleston, Denise Roffe reports on a young woman who saw this gentleman standing in the balcony when she visited.
Though, other stories center on a spirit known as “Netty” or “Nettie.” Likely dating to the same time as the gentleman’s spirit, legend has it that Nettie was a “working girl” who provided entertainment to the gentlemen who patronized the hotel. The legend continues with her dying a violent death on the balcony of the hotel, just above the entrance. While she was out on the balcony one evening, the steel beam supporting the balcony was struck by lightning and she was electrocuted. According to author Terrance Zepke, her spirit form has been observed by passersby and also captured on film. Additionally, she lingers in the second floor backstage hall where she apparently appears to be walking on her knees as the floor was raised during the building’s renovations in the 1930s. Netty is still walking on the original floors.
Sources
Bull, Elias B. National Register of Historic Places nomination form for the Dock Street Theatre. 2 January 1972.
Macy, Ed and Geordie Buxton III. Haunted Charleston: Stories from the College of Charleston, the Citadel and the Holy City. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2004.
Poston, Jonathan H. The Buildings of Charleston. Columbia, SC: U. of SC Press, 1997.
Roffe, Denise. Ghosts and Legends of Charleston, South Carolina. Atglen, PA: Schiffer, 2010.
Zepke, Terrance. Best Ghost Tales of South Carolina. Sarasota, FL: Pineapple Press, 2004.
Paramount Center for the Performing Arts 518 State Street Bristol, Tennessee
In 1991 at the age of 60 the Paramount Theatre, run down and virtually abandoned, rose like its “Mighty Wurlitzer” organ once did from the depths to be reborn as the Paramount Center for the Performing Arts. Opened in 1931, the theatre was meant as a cinema and its small stage had to be enlarged to accommodate live performance in the modern day. Sitting proudly on State Street not far from the Tennessee/Virginia state line, which divides this city, the theatre continues to attract people from all over the region.
The Paramount Center for the Performing Arts by Carole M. Highsmith, courtesy of the Carol M. Highsmith Archive, Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
According to a 2009 article from the Bristol Herald Courier, the site of the Paramount Theatre was previously haunted. On that site, Bristol’s first hospital stood, a building that had previously been a hotel. During its time as a hotel, a man was shot and killed there. After that, the hotel had trouble renting his room after that as patrons reported hearing and feeling odd things in that room. There is a spirit still hanging around the theatre, though no indication it is the same from the old hotel. The Executive Director has reported that footsteps are still heard in the empty building with the sound of doors opening and closing as well.
Sources
Netherland, Tom. “A Timeless Stage: Memories of the Paramount Center.” Originally published in Bristol Herald Courier, 17 February 2009. Republished in A! Magazine for the Arts, March 2013.
State Street divides city of Bristol and marks the state line between Tennessee and Virginia. The Cameo Theatre, on the north side of the street, is in Virginia while the Paramount Center for the Performing Arts, just a few blocks down, sits on the south side of the street in Tennessee. The division between the theatres also marks a gulf of fortunes between them as well. While the Paramount Theatre remains open as a performing arts center the Cameo is currently for sale. Two years older than the Paramount, the 1925 theatre was opened as a vaudeville house and recently served as an arts facility, hosting arts classes for children. Sadly, finances did not allow that to continue and the theatre was put up for sale in 2010.
According to V.N. Phillips’ book, Ghosts of Bristol: Haunting Tales from the Twin Cities, the Cameo replaces The Black Shawl, Bristol’s most infamous brothel. Pocahontas Hale, the establishment’s madam, is said to notoriously patrol the sidewalk in front of the Cameo Theatre. Her shade has been spotted wearing the black clothes and wrapped in the black shawl that she always wore in life.
Sources
McGee, David. “Cameo Theatre annex’s inventory being sold off to make way for new owner.” Bristol Herald Courier. 16 June 2010.
Phillips, V.N. Ghosts of Bristol: Haunting Tales from the Twin Cities. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2010.
Old Main Campus of Marshall University Huntington, West Virginia
With a cornerstone laid in 1869—just 32 years after the founding of Marshall Academy on the same spot—Old Main continues to carry Marshall University towards the horizon of the future. The structure’s nomination form for the National Register of Historic Places contains the sentimental statement that “alumni consider Old Main and school itself to be identical. Old Main is Marshall University and Marshall University is Old Main.” Not only does this monumental Tudor structure carry students and faculty forward as a university centerpiece and administration building, but it carries a spirit or two as well.
Old Main, 2013, by WVFunnyman. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Old Main embodies the history of the school itself in its walls. It is not actually a single building, but five buildings that have been joined over time. Originally one of these building contained an auditorium, though the space has been unused since 1990. School legend relates that a well-dressed man was sometimes seen back stage during performances. Actors and crew back stage would see the man who would be gone with a second glance. This man was identified as a theatre director from the 1920s. The director supposedly disappeared after it was discovered he had embezzled money from the school.
Sources
Bleau, Edward R. National Register of Historic Places nomination form for Old Main—Marshall University. 28 December 1972.
Bozzoli, Carlos. “Old Main Building.” Marshall University Architectural Guide. Accessed 14 March 2013.
Donahue, Kelly. “Untitled article.” The Parthenon. 29 October 1996.
The Lost Sea 140 Lost Sea Road Sweetwater, Tennessee
My post on Sweetwater, Tennessee’s The Lost Sea got an anonymous comment a couple weeks ago, “By the way there is nothing haunted about the cave. I work there and I can tell you half of the stuff above is a lie.” Just a day later, I received an interesting report from a visitor who had an experience.
In writing about haunted places, I regularly encounter people who will attest that a location is not haunted while also encountering people who have had experiences in that location they truly believe are paranormal. Who to believe? No one perceives the world around them in the same exact way. This becomes even more complicated when you factor in psychic sensitivities.
A passage within the Lost Sea Cave from my visit in 2011. Photo by Lewis Powell IV, all rights reserved.
To say that a place is not haunted because you personally have not experienced anything is short-sighted and loses sight of people who may be able to sense things where you may feel nothing. It’s for this reason that physical evidence is very important. In this case, the reader who wrote to me about her experience also included two photographs. While I’m not expert on photographic evidence, both photos do contain some odd things. I cannot say for certain whether the photographs are paranormal or not.
This reader from Lakeland, Florida related her experience as follows:
Hi, I had an encounter at the Lost Sea Caves in Sweetwater, TN this past December. I also have pictures that I took. At the time of our visit, I told my husband that there was a young man following me (I have always been “sensitive” but because it scares me, I have never really given it any thought). All I could see of the young man was his face, and that he had a blue hat on. He was not threatening to me, but curious. I did some research when I got home and I learned of the young union [sic] soldier who was spying on the caves and was killed. I am positive that this is who my encounter was with.
I asked her to describe the face and the hat further.
As far as the description of the face and hat. He was young, had a thin, although not super skinny face and a mild complexion. His hat was a medium blue, what I would call a classic union battle cap. [from this description, I would venture it was a Union kepi] What stood out to me the most is that he was young, definitely not over 25. He also seemed kind and curious. I felt like he knew that I knew he was there.
I then ventured to ask if she saw him with her eyes or sensed him. She responded that she “sensed it, but it was the first time that I ever saw clear features.” She continued, “all of the other times, I could definitely sense the energy, but I couldn’t put a physical description on it.”
In my own entry from 2011, I alluded to the legend from the Civil War regarding a Union spy who attempted to sabotage the Confederate saltpeter mining and gunpowder making operation that was located in the cave. Since I wrote that article, I have discovered that there is quite a bit more information on that topic. Larry E. Matthews’ book, Caves of Knoxville and the Great Smoky Mountains, includes this story in their history of the cave.
The first of the reader images. This was taken on the Lost Sea with the sea’s rainbow trout beginning to mob the boat. There are two orbs in the photo, both of which could be water vapor, though the orb that was caught in motion seems quite curious to me. All rights reserved.
My photograph of the fish for comparison. Notice the water vapor “orbs” appear stationary. Photo by Lewis Powell IV, all rights reserved.
The story comes from a diary kept by the Rev. J. H. Coltharp that was discovered before 1934. Sadly, the diary has been lost, but the details of the gunpowder production and the death of the Union soldier were recorded. According to this diary, the cave was the only location in the Knoxville area where saltpeter was mined for Confederate use. This gunpowder was surreptitiously carried to Knoxville and throughout the South by young men who would carry 50-pound cans of it.
The diary relates that the men working this operation felt relatively safe in the cave as Union troops—this region was occupied by Union troops starting in 1863—wouldn’t enter the cave for fear of getting lost. One Union soldier did manage to sneak past the Confederates stationed throughout the area to guard the cave and was discovered after he had placed dynamite in the cave to destroy it. “He was tied to a large gum tree near the cave and shot.”
The second reader image from one of the dry cave rooms. There is both a light anomaly and an orb in this photo. The light anomaly is human shaped, though a flash in a cave like this can cause many anomalies. Again, this orb is in motion, which is curious. All rights reserved.
Is this soldier the face that the young lady from Florida saw? We may never know.
I’d like to thank the young lady from Florida for sharing her story and photographs.
Sources
Coleman, Christopher K. Ghosts and Haunts of Tennessee. Winston-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2011.
Matthews, Larry E. Caves of Knoxville and the Great Smoky Mountains. Huntsville, AL: National Speleological Society. 2008.
Powell, Lewis O. Correspondence with a reader from Lakeland, Florida.9-14 March 2015.
Powell, Lewis O. “A sunless sea—Craighead Caverns and the Lost Sea.” Southern Spirit Guide blog. 6 December 2011.
This is the second half of my two-part article on Haunted Hotels and Inns of the South that I created just after the blog was first posted in 2010. It was my first really big (almost too big) article and I have attempted over the years to revisit it with the hope of updating, revising and completing it (I originally left off Virginia and West Virginia when I got tired of writing). This article with my article, 13 Southern Rooms with a Boo, is the replacement.
This article is just a sampling (2 from each of the 13 states that I cover here) of the vast array of haunted lodgings throughout the South. My article, “Dining with Spirits” is a companion piece to this article. Enjoy!
Tutwiler Hotel 2021 Park Place Birmingham, Alabama
The Tutwiler Hotel, like a ghost, has risen from the dead, almost. When it opened in 1914, the Tutwiler was the finest hotel in the city and was at the heart of its social scene hosting events such as actress Tallulah Bankhead’s wedding reception. The hotel was originally constructed to serve visiting steel company executives in this city that was built on the steel industry. When the industry began to die in the second half of the twentieth century, the hotel fell into disrepair and the 450-room landmark with its 1000-seat ballroom was imploded a year after closing its door in 1972.
Panoramic view of the Tutwiler Hotel, 2011, by Chris Pruitt. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
With the recovery of Birmingham’s economy, the need for a luxury hotel again arose. Investors purchased the Ridgeley Apartments, a large brick building on Park Avenue that had been constructed by Major Tutwiler at the same time his grand hotel had opened. The apartment building was restored and refurbished into the new Tutwiler Hotel. Not only has the hotel returned from oblivion, but some of its former residents have returned as well. A spiritual knocker raps on the doors of the hotel’s sixth floor late at night. Of course, when the door is answered, no one is seen. Jessica Penot in her Haunted North Alabama tells of the spirit of a young girl who is also seen on the sixth floor and may be the cause of the knocking.
According to Alan Brown, the bartender of the hotel had issues with the lights in the dining room. He would turn them off and leave for the night only to find them on in the morning. After coming in one morning to discover a fully cooked feast laid out on the table, the bartender began saying goodnight to Major Tutwiler upon leaving at night. The lights have remained off. “Good night, Major Tutwiler.”
Sources
Brown, Alan. “Knocking at the Tutwiler Hotel.” WierdUS,com. Accessed 28 October 2010.
Lewis, Herbert J. “Birmingham.” Encyclopedia of Alabama. 8 January 2008.
Penot, Jessica. Haunted North Alabama. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2010.
The Hay-Adams 800 16th Street, Northwest Washington, D.C.
Marian Adams, known by her nickname, “Clover,” is at the center of two ghost stories. One tale concerns her tragic spirit haunting the fourth floor of the Hay-Adams Hotel and the other concerns her eerie grave at Rock Creek Cemetery. Clover was the socialite wife of historian and writer Henry Adams whose autobiography, The Education of Henry Adams, won the 1919 Pulitzer Prize but omitted his late wife.
The December 10, 1885 edition of the Washington paper, The Critic, briefly notes Marian Adams’ funeral: “The funeral of Mrs. Marian Adams of 1607 H Street, wife of Mr. Henry Adams, took place from her late residence yesterday. The certificate of Dr. Hagner, filed in the Health office, was to the effect that the deceased died of paralysis of the heart superinduced by an overdose of potassium.” Mrs. Adams was an amateur photographer and used potassium cyanide in developing her photographs. It was believed that she had committed suicide, though rumors swirled throughout the city as to why and even if she had possibly been murdered.
Hay-Adams Hotel, 2008, by AgnosticPreachersKid. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
The H Street home where Adams had met her death was being rented by the Adams from art collector W. W. Cochran. The couple had been renting the house while an H. H. Richardson-designed home was being built for them on 16th Street. The home was being built next door to the home of John and Clara Hay, close friends of the Adams. Following his wife’s death, Henry Adams moved into the new house and stories came out of the couple’s old house on H Street where residents witnessed mysterious knocking and the ghost of a “sad-eyed lady.”
To mark his wife’s grave, Henry Adams commissioned the sculptor Augustus Saint-Gaudens to create a fitting memorial that was not “intelligible to the average mind.” The sculptor created a bronze figure that sat atop the grave shrouded in cloth. The figure’s face is hidden under a hood and is hidden in shadow. Though neither Saint-Gaudens or Adams called it such, the creepy statue became known as “Grief.” Over the years, tales have been spun to explain the statue’s effect on people and some have reported that the figure has supernatural powers.
Adams passed away in 1918 and the graceful pair of Richardsonian mansion that had been home to Adams and his friends the Hays became the victims of “progress” in 1927. A developer demolished the homes and constructed a large Italian Renaissance-styled hotel which he named for the former owners of the property. At some point, the hotel gained a permanent guest in the form of the shade of Marian “Clover” Adams.
Clover has apparently taken over the hotel’s fourth floor. Maids in unoccupied rooms on that floor have reported hearing the sounds of a woman sobbing, asking “what do you want?” and calling their name. The hotel’s Wikipedia page cites a source as saying that the spirit of Clover Adams is accompanied by the faint smell of almonds. Potassium cyanide is extracted from almonds.
Sources
Alexander, John. Ghosts: Washington Revisited. Atglen, PA: Schiffer, 1998.
“Funeral of Mrs. Adams.” The Critic. 10 December 1885.
Hay-Adams Hotel. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 5 March 2015.
Rooney, E. Ashley and Betsy Johnson. Washington, D.C.: Ghosts, Legends and Lore. Atglen, PA: Schiffer, 2008.
Smith, Terry L. and Mark Jean. Haunted Inns of America. Crane Hill Publishers, 2003.
The Don CeSar 3400 Gulf Boulevard St. Pete Beach, Florida
Facing the sapphire waters of the Gulf of Mexico stands Thomas Rowe’s palatial pink dream, The Don CeSar. Opened in 1928, the resort was, for a time, the heart of the Jazz Age social scene in Florida, hosting luminaries ranging from novelist F. Scott Fitzgerald to baseball legend, Lou Gehrig. The resort survived the tumult of the Great Depression but with Thomas Rowe’s death in 1940, the hotel passed into the hands of his ex-wife. When Rowe died, he had been in the process of changing his will to write out his former spouse, but as this new will remained unsigned at the time of death, the old will was executed. The ex-wife, Mary, was not a business woman and the hotel began to fall into disrepair and was taken over by the government for back taxes.
The immense hotel was transformed by the government into a veteran‘s hospital, stripped of its Old World splendor. Following World War II, the building remained in government hands and served as offices for the Veteran’s Administration and later for other agencies. In 1967, the structure was abandoned and left to the elements. Vagrants, vandals and mice roamed the graffiti painted and trash-strewn corridors. During this time, stories began to circulate of Jazz Age phantoms roaming the beach near the resort and the sound of parties echoing from the ruined patios and terraces.
With the looming threat of demolition, a citizens group banded together to save the pink landmark. The hotel was reopened in 1973 and renovation starting in the early 1980s restored and expanded the resort. Renovations and work in old structures often tends to stir up spiritual activity and such was the case at the Don CeSar. The figure of a man in a tan suit and Panama hat began to be seen poking around the building. Sometimes alone and sometimes seen with a beautiful woman, the man has been identified as Thomas Rowe.
The Don Cesar in 2006 by Porkfork6. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
The woman is connected with the legend of the hotel. According to the story, Rowe built this pink palace as a monument to his first love, an opera singer. The couple was not allowed to marry and when Rowe built the hotel, he named it Don CeSar for the male lead in Wallace’s opera, Maritana. Supposedly, Rowe’s lady love was an opera singer whom he spotted first playing the female lead in the opera. Perhaps Rowe and his love have finally found the solace in death that they could ill afford in life.
Sources
1935 Labor Day hurricane. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 29 October 2010.
Don CeSar. Wikipedia, the Free Encyclopedia. Accessed 28 October 2010.
Jenkins, Greg. Florida’s Ghostly Legends and Haunted Folklore, Volume 1, South and Central Florida. Sarasota, FL: Pineapple Press, 2008.
Riverview Hotel 105 Osborne Street St. Marys, Georgia
The verandas of the Riverview Hotel have faced the waters of the St. Marys River for nearly 100 years inviting visitors to stay and “set a spell.” This family-owned hotel has been operated by the Brandon family since the 1920s and has seen the likes of Marjorie Kinnan Rawlings, Admiral Chester Nimitz and Senator Richard Russell. Something, possibly not of this world, seems to occupy Room 8, even when the guest register shows it to be vacant. Innkeeper Jerry Brandon is quoted by Sheila Turnage in her Haunted Inns of the Southeast as saying that a male apparition has been spotted outside of Room 8 and people staying in that room have been touched by an unseen presence. He continues that during a power outage, the lights in the room stayed on. In St. Marys, the spirit world still leaves the light on for you.
Riverview Hotel, 2012, by Lewis Powell IV, all rights reserved.
Sources
Hampton, Liz. “Living history at the Riverview.” The Florida Times-Union. 21 February 2004.
Reddick, Marguerite. Camden’s Challenge: A History of Camden County, Georgia. St. Marys, GA: Camden County Historical Society, 1976.
Turnage, Sheila. Haunted Inns of the Southeast. Winton-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2001.
Maple Hill Manor 2941 Perryville Road Springfield, Kentucky
Some paranormal researchers speculate that ghosts may see a location as they once knew it rather than what exists now. Despite this speculation, I can imagine the ghosts looking out of the windows of Maple Hill Manor would be confused by the flocks of alpacas and llamas grazing outside. The current innkeepers, Todd Allen and Tyler Horton, raise the alpacas and llamas for their wool which may be used to make clothing, jewelry, and even teddy bears.
In addition to these exotic animals, the innkeepers appear to have a number of spirits on hand in this historic home built between 1848 and 1851. It was the home of Thomas and Sarah McElroy, their children (a few of whom died in infancy) and the family’s slaves. Some of the spirits that are still encountered may be family members, including a son who plunged to his death when a railing on the stairway gave way and the spirits of the McElroy’s slaves including “Mammy Anne” who has been seen sitting in her former room. These spirits are joined by the apparitions of soldiers who were wounded in the Battle of Perryville, fought nearby. The innkeepers have reported that activity, especially in Harriet Beecher Stowe room where the soldiers were treated, tends to spike around October 8, the anniversary of the battle.
Sources
Brown, Alan. Haunted Kentucky: Ghosts and Strange Phenomena of the Bluegrass State. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole, 2009.
T’Frere’s House Bed and Breakfast 1905 Verot School Road Lafayette, Louisiana
During an investigation of T’Frere’s House Bed & Breakfast, Smoke and Mirrors Paranormal captured an EVP of a male voice whispering very gruffly, “that’s it, I want them out!” The spirits here speak a great deal in both English and French. An exterminator was working in the home’s attic when he encountered a small woman who asked him to “viens voir,” or come see. Not wanting to actually see what the mysterious woman wanted to show him, the exterminator fled.
Oneziphore Comeaux, the youngest of seven children, nicknamed T’Frere, meaning “little brother,” built his home in Lafayette in 1880. When the home’s owner, Peggy Moseley decided to open the home as a bed and breakfast in 1986, the name T’Frere’s was perfectly suited for it. When the Pastor family bought the bed and breakfast in 1994, they also didn’t realize their purchase included a ghost.
As the Pastors were moving in the family took a load of things to the house for the night. Their son had forgotten a paper needed for his math homework. He was worrying about it in his room when the sheet suddenly floated down from the ceiling. An investigation of the room did not reveal any reason that the missing paper could have just appeared.
Legend speaks of a young schoolteacher, Amelie, who died when she went to wash her face and fell in the well. When the Catholic Church judged her death a suicide, she was denied burial in the consecrated ground of the cemetery. Amelie’s spirit has been encountered throughout the house, with her mostly making her presence known by rattling pots and pans, turning lights off and on and other mischievous activity.
Sources
Coen, Chere. “Ghost hunters search for inn’s oldest ‘resident.’”IND Monthly. 18 August 2014.
Coen, Chere. Haunted Lafayette, Louisiana. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2013.
Ponseti, Valerie. “Ghost Hunt at T-Frere’s.”KATC. 17 August 2014.
Rose, Christopher. “Minding her manor.” The New Orleans Times-Picayune. 19 April 1992.
Turnage, Sheila. Haunted Inns of the Southeast. Winton-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2001.
The Wayside Inn 4344 Columbia Road Ellicott City, Maryland
The massive three-story granite Wayside Inn on the Columbia Turnpike outside of Ellicott City can claim that “George Washington slept here,” it can also claim a ghost. While the early history of the inn is lost in the shadows, it is known that Washington, as well as other colonial luminaries passed through the area. Most likely, they would have stayed in one of the inns that lined the Old Columbia Turnpike, between Washington, D. C. and Baltimore. Little has been written on the female ghost that haunts the premises, though an article written around the time of the inn’s reopening in 2004, mentions that a friend of the innkeepers heard a door open followed by footsteps to discover that no one was present.
Sources
History. WaysideInnMD.com. Accessed 29 October 2010.
Schissler, Eleanor. “B&B’s renovation doesn’t quiet talk of reputed ghost.” Howard County Times. 3 June 2004.
Cedar Grove Mansion Inn & Restaurant 2200 Oak Street Vicksburg, Mississippi
Cedar Grove is a house built for love. Built by John Klein as a wedding gift to his bride, Elizabeth Bartley Day, Cedar Grove was completed in 1852 following a grand tour of Europe with her. With the start of the Vicksburg Campaign during the Civil War, the house was one of the first houses in Vicksburg hit by the Union shelling of the city, in fact, a cannonball is still lodged in the wall of the parlor. Mrs. Klein, a native of Ohio, was also a relative of Union General William Tecumseh Sherman who had been a guest in the house. Sherman gave personal assurances to the Kleins that their home would be spared and he personally escorted the family to safety. Following the Kleins evacuation, the house was used by Union forces until after the fall of Vicksburg.
Foyer of the Cedar Grove Inn, 2004, by Flowerchild48. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
When the Kleins returned to the city after the war, they were met as traitors with turned backs and averted eyes. When the house was purchased in 1983 and conversion into a bed and breakfast began, the Klein’s proud house had fallen into disrepair. The owners have fully restored the house and included homes across the street as cottages including the cottage that John Klein used while the main house was under construction.
I’ve found two main sources on this inn. While there is no confusion about the history, the sources differ on the spiritual guests. Sheila Turnage mentions two spirits, a male spirit, possibly Mr. Klein, whose pipe smoke appears in the gentlemen’s parlor and a female spirit who has been heard and seen on the stairs. Interestingly, my other source, Sylvia Booth Hubbard’s Ghosts! Personal Accounts of Modern Mississippi Hauntings, provides more spirits. Hubbard mentions the possible spirit of Mr. Klein, but also includes the sounds of children playing and an infant crying. She continues by mentioning that a later owner of the home had a sister who committed suicide in the ballroom and that the sounds of a gunshot and a crash are sometimes heard there. Hubbard also indicates that the spirit of a tour guide who lead tours of the hours during the annual pilgrimage has been seen in the house as well. Nonetheless, it seems Cedar Grove has no shortage of history, charm or ghosts.
Sources
“Cedar Grove History.” CedarGroveInn.com. Accessed 31 October 2010.
Hubbard, Sylvia Booth. Ghosts! Personal Accounts of Modern Mississippi Hauntings. Brandon, MS: Quail Ridge Press, 1992.
Kermeen, Frances. Ghostly Encounters: True Stories of American’s Haunted Inns and Hotels. NYC: Warner Books, 2002.
Turnage, Sheila. Haunted Inns of the Southeast. Winton-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2001.
The Omni Grove Park Inn 290 Macon Avenue Asheville, North Carolina
Throughout ghost literature there are tales of female wraiths. Over time many of these female spirits have acquired nicknames, usually relating to the color of their clothing: “White Lady” and “Grey Lady” being the most common. Of course, they do appear in other colors; Huntingdon College in Montgomery, Alabama, for instance, has a “Red Lady, but I know of only one spirit that appears in that most feminine of colors, pink, and Asheville’s Grove Park Inn is her home.
The legend is almost typical in ghostlore: a young flapper in the 1920s plunged to her death from a fourth or fifth floor railing and her spirit has been seen ever since. Time has kept her anonymity, though I’m curious if a close scan of local papers might reveal her identity. Anonymous she may be, though, the details of her activity seem to be well known. People staying in rooms 545, 441, 448 and even 320 have experienced a variety of strange activity including the appearance of a young woman wearing a pink dress. A North Carolina police chief staying in room 448 felt someone sit on the edge of his bed while a female journalist staying in 441 the same night had doors in her room open and close mysteriously.
Postcard view of the Grove Park Inn, circa 1914. Courtesy of the Library of Congress, Prints and Photographs Division.
The Inn brought in writer and investigator Joshua Warren to investigate the legend of the Pink Lady in 1996. His results, published in his book Haunted Asheville, include some photographic anomalies, but also a number of personal experiences. The Pink Lady still walks this 1913 edifice.
Sources
“History.” GroveParkInn.com. Accessed 1 November 2010.
Kermeen, Frances. Ghostly Encounters: True Stories of American’s Haunted Inns and Hotels. NYC: Warner Books, 2002.
Turnage, Sheila. Haunted Inns of the Southeast. Winton-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2001.
Warren, Joshua P. Haunted Asheville. Johnson City, TN: Overmountain Press, 1996.
Rice Hope Plantation Inn 206 Rice Hope Drive Moncks Corner, South Carolina
Rice Hope Plantation’s resident spirit, Mistress Chicken, certainly ranks among the more amusing spirit names. She was born Catherine Chicken and her grandfather, James Child had founded the nearby community of Childsbury, which no longer exists. Captain George Chicken, Catherine’s father, had been a member of the Goose Creek militia and had been involved in the Yamassee War which helped to exterminate and exile the Yamassee people from the Low Country of South Carolina.
Catherine Chicken’s tale has been told for centuries in this region. After Catherine’s father’s death, her mother remarried and Catherine was placed in a boarding school in Childsbury under the care of Monsieur and Madame Dutarque. Catherine was a sensitive child who bore the strain of the Dutarque’s strict disciplinary methods and she was often punished for minor infractions. Little Catherine had been given some sewing as punishment, but as children are wont to do, she was distracted. Despite the Dutarque’s decree that no student shall possess pets, Catherine Chicken had brought a small pet turtle with her. While she sewed, the turtle had wandered away and Little Mistress Chicken dropped her sewing to pursue it.
Upon finding that the little girl had disappeared, the Dutarques were enraged and Monsieur began to search feverishly for the child. He found her and her small pet and decided to teach the child a lesson with a rather unusual punishment. The child was tied to a tombstone while the cruel schoolmaster threw the small turtle against a stone, killing it before the child’s eyes.
As darkness descended on the tombstones of Strawberry Chapel where the child had been left, the girl grew weary of struggling to cry out and free herself. A slave, out past curfew found her and alerted the locals who found the child limpid with terror and exhaustion. Her limp form was taken to her home where there was a fear she might not awaken. After discovering the culprits behind this travesty, the townsfolk considered hanging for the cruel schoolmasters. Little Mistress Chicken did awaken and exclaimed that she hoped nothing would happen to Monsieur Dutarque. The Dutarques were exiled from the settlement.
Strawberry Chapel where Catherine Chicken was tied to a tombstone. Photo circa 1940 by Frederick Nichols for the Historic American Buildings Survey.
Catherine never quite recovered from her ordeal, though she lived a long and fruitful life. Luckins Plantation, where young Catherine had spent happy days before her father’s death eventually became Rice Hope Plantation according to some sources. Joseph S. Freylinghausen, a former senator from New Jersey, purchased the plantation in the early 1920s and remodeled the house there in 1929. It is this house where Catherine is supposed to return to the Heron Room where she rocks in the rocking chair there. Her forlorn spirit is also occasionally heard still crying for help at Strawberry Chapel as well.
Sources
Chandler, Andrew W. et al. National Register of Historic Places Nomination Form for the Cooper River Historic District. Listed 5 February 2003.
Orr, Bruce. Ghosts of Berkeley County, South Carolina. Charleston, SC: History Press, 2011.
Turnage, Sheila. Haunted Inns of the Southeast. Winton-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2001.
Magnolia Manor Bed & Breakfast 418 North Main Street Bolivar, Tennessee
I am certain that one of the first things the citizens of Bolivar, Tennessee would like you to know is how to pronounce their name. While it is named for the South American revolutionary, Simon Bolivar, the town’s name is pronounced to rhyme with “Oliver,” Though I cannot be completely certain, I’m sure the second thing the citizens would want you to know is that Magnolia Manor has wonderful legends associated with it and quite possibly a few ghosts as well.
Just before the Battle of Shiloh, which took place just two counties over, four Union generals: Logan, Sherman, Grant and McPherson, supposedly planned the battle in the Gentleman’s Parlor. (It should be noted, however, that the battle was the result of a surprise attack by Confederate forces.) But the legend continues with the ill-mannered William Tecumseh Sherman making a very disagreeable and telling remark during a meal in suggesting that all Southerners: men, women and children, should be exterminated.
Magnolia Manor’s hostess, Mrs. Miller, the wife of Judge Austin Miller, the home’s builder, excused herself immediately left the room in tears. Ulysses Grant furiously ordered Sherman to apologize. He did so begrudgingly and stormed up the staircase afterwards slashing the banister with his saber. Mrs. Miller was the first of a long line of strong women to oversee this manse and leave a spiritual mark as well—one of Mrs. Miller’s grand-daughters would become the first woman elected to the Tennessee state legislature.
Activity in the 1849 home is at such a level that paranormal investigators have been at work in the house regularly for a number of years. Therefore, being certified as haunted is really just a formality for Memphis Mid-South Ghost Hunters who have been working in the house for quite some time.
The activity in the house ranges from full apparitions to the movement of objects. Guests in the home have witnessed a woman descend the staircase and others have been touched by a female spirit in their rooms while still others have reported a woman pulling the covers from them as they slept.
Sources
Brown, Alan. Haunted Tennessee: Ghosts and Strange Phenomena of the Volunteer State. Mechanicsburg, PA: Stackpole, 2009.
Ferree, Lyda Kay. “Magnolia Manor Bed & Breakfast to host ghost tours.” The Jackson Sun. 27 September 2014.
Phillips, Bianca. “Bumps in the Night.” Memphis Flyer. 12 July 2007.
Turnage, Sheila. Haunted Inns of the Southeast. Winston-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2001.
1797 Wayside Inn 7783 Main Street Middletown, Virginia
This building essentially sits at the center of history for this small town. The motley of old buildings forming the tavern were built over a period ranging from the 18th century through to the late 19th century. The oldest portion of the building, that containing Larrick’s Tavern, is considered the oldest portion and may have been constructed around 1750. The road in front was once part of the Great Wagon Road—the road that helped settle the American “backcountry.” The road here, through the Shenandoah Valley, which enters the valley in Winchester, was originally a Native American trail called the Great Indian Warpath, a trail used by the multitude of Native American tribes—including the Cherokee—throughout this region.
In 1797, this collection of buildings became an inn for the many travelers passing on the road. Leo Bernstein, the garrulous personality who took over the inn the latter half of the 20th century, would always claim that this inn was the oldest continuously operating inn in the nation. There does seem to be a good deal of truth behind his claim. It is known that this inn was in operation as war raged up and down the valley during the Civil War and that the inn served both sides.
The Wayside Inn, 2008, by DwayneP. Courtesy of Wikipedia.
Like most buildings in the area, the inn has a number of Civil War related spirits, though there is the possibility that the inn may have been haunted by the time the war rolled through the region. Lord Fairfax, who had been given much the land in the area, did live nearby and died in Winchester (he’s buried at Christ Episcopal Church) is claimed as the spirit that moans on a nightly basis in the oldest portion of the inn. Bernstein describes the space in Sheila Turnage’s Haunted Inns of the Southeast, “Upstairs is about a three foot space. There was a set of steps going up there. The straw is still there.” Bernstein would like to believe that Lord Fairfax is the source of the moan, who may have been a guest here with his young surveyor, George Washington, in tow. The loft is located just above one of the bars and Turnage mentions that people gather to listen for the moan at 11:30 PM nightly.
Besides odd moans, the inn is home to numerous other spirits and employees and guests have witnessed much activity. Objects have moved on their own accord, a dishwasher had his apron untied repeatedly by unseen hands, and full apparitions have been seen including those of Civil War soldiers. Paranormal investigations have captured much evidence including EVPs of horses whinnying and photographs featuring specters.
Sources
Ash, Linda O’Dell. “Respect the spirits, ‘Ghost Hunters International’ star Dustin Pari tells Wayside Inn paranormal investigators.” The Northern Virginia Daily. 7 November 2011.
Daly, Sean. “In Strasburg, a Medium Well Done.” The Washington Post. 31 July 2002.
Middletown Heritage Society. National Register of Historic Place nomination form for Middletown Historic District. 7 May 2003.
Turnage, Sheila. Haunted Inns of the Southeast. Winston-Salem, NC: John F. Blair, 2001.
Varhola, Michael J. Ghosthunting Virginia. Cincinnati, OH: Clerisy Press, 2008.
General Lewis Inn 301 East Washington Street Lewisburg, West Virginia
Last August the General Lewis Inn was purchased by a young couple who remarked that it felt surreal owning “the iconic center of Lewisburg.” The new owners are quoted in a Charleston Gazette-Mail article as saying, “quirkiness is what makes the Inn the Inn. It’s unique; it’s not like staying in a Days Inn or a Hampton Inn.” Most certainly, that quirkiness involves the spirits of the General Lewis Inn as well. When questioned about the inn’s haunted reputation, one of the innkeepers responded, “I haven’t met the ghost. Having them or not having them is fine with me.”
The inn’s history has many layers which have contributed spirits to the site. The oldest portion of the inn was originally constructed as a residence for James Withow in 1834. It is from sometime after this time that one of the inn’s spirits, a slave, comes. Legend speaks of a slave named Reuben who was sold after showing disrespect to an overseer. As punishment, he was sold to another plantation nearby. His new owner promised to free all his slaves upon his death, so Reuben hatched a plan to murder him and make it look like an accident. He killed his new master, but was caught and returned to his former owners in Lewisburg. They opted to execute him by hanging him in one of the outbuildings.
The old Withow house was remodeled and added to in the 1920s to create the General Lewis Inn. The new addition was constructed with beams from some of the outbuildings that stood behind the Withow house, those beams included the beam from which Reuben was hung. Reuben’s shade is joined by a black-clad woman who occasionally strolls into the restaurant and takes a seat. When she is approached by a server, she vanishes. A gingham-clad little girl who may have died in the 1850s also plays throughout the inn. She enjoys stealing socks from guests among other antics and it is believed she enjoys rocking in the lobby’s rocking chairs.
Strange sounds are sometimes heard emanating from Room 206. Ghastly moans have been heard by guests both in and out of the room while guests in Room 208 have encountered a female entity.
Sources
Gutman, David. “New owners, but same (haunted?) history for the General Lewis Inn.” Sunday Gazette-Mail. 31 August 2014.
Kermeen, Frances. Ghostly Encounters: True Stories of American’s Haunted Inns and Hotels. NYC: Warner Books, 2002.
Richmond, Nancy, Tammy Workman and Misty Murray Walkup. Haunted Lewisburg, West Virginia. Privately Published, 2011.
