Haunted Holidays

by Roberta Simpson Brown

  “What happened?” Dad asked.

  “Mr. Brown, I don’t scare easy, but there is something out there in those woods that paid me a visit on Halloween. I aim to be ready if it comes back again.”

  “What was it?” Dad asked him.

  “To tell you the truth, I don’t know. It was cloudy on Halloween this year, so it got dark a little earlier than usual. After I did my chores, I went inside and locked up. I fixed some supper and sat down to read awhile before going to bed.

  “I missed the company of my old hunting dog, Boomer. He got out on the road and got killed by a truck last summer, you know.”

  “Yes,” said Dad. “I remember. Sorry.”

  “I always kept him inside at night, so I never had to worry about anyone or anything sneaking up on me. He was a good watchdog.

  “Well, anyway, I read until I began to get sleepy. I blew out the lamp and went on to bed. I was just dozing off when I heard something walking around outside. It crossed my mind that it was Halloween and that some boys from town might have come out to do some mischief, so I lay still to see if I could figure out what was going on.

  “I could only hear one set of footsteps. As I listened, I ruled out a group of boys pulling a prank. This was something big—sounded bigger than a human, like an animal—but it was walking on two legs. I admit that I wished with all my heart that Boomer was with me.

  “The thing came right up to the cabin. The smell was awful. I don’t think it was a bear. It acted like it had human intelligence. It began to make this awful sound, sort of a cross between a howl and a growl. Then it began to pound on the walls and the doors. Then I heard this scratching at the front door. The thing got louder and louder, and so did the scratching. I got out of bed and tried to peek out the window, but it was too dark to see anything.

  “Then suddenly it stopped and I heard it going away. The scratching stopped, too. I looked down and couldn’t believe what I was seeing. There were scratches inside on the door. If I believed in ghosts, I’d think Boomer came back to help me.”

  “Did you see any tracks the next morning?” asked Dad

  “The grass had been trampled down, but no track was distinct. I have a feeling it will come back again, and I am not sure that my old cabin will hold together.”

  “When would you like me to start?” Dad asked the old man.

  “How about day after tomorrow?” he said. “I think I can have all the supplies ready by then.”

  “That’s fine,” Dad told him. “I’ll be there at sunup so we can get an early start.”

  “Good,” said Mr. Edwards.

  He walked away, and that was the last time we ever saw him.

  The sheriff came by the next morning asking if Dad knew anything about old man Edwards.

  “A hunter was going by the Edwards cabin at daybreak, and he saw the door off on the front porch and some other damage to the cabin walls. He checked, but old man Edwards wasn’t there. The hunter came to town and told me. I went out to the cabin, but there is no sign of Edwards. There is quite a bit of damage to the cabin, but no blood or evidence that he was injured. I’m getting up a search party to help my deputy and me look.”

  Dad told him about Mr. Edwards’s visit to us the day before, and the strange story he told.

  The sheriff was as puzzled as Dad. They had never heard about anything like that in the woods.

  Dad and some of the other neighbor men went off with the sheriff and deputy to look for the old man. They searched all of the Smith Woods, but never found a trace of him.

  Mr. Edwards had no family, so the sheriff simply put the door back on its hinges and boarded up all the damaged places on the cabin.

  After that, none of us ever went alone to that cabin, and none of us wanted to be in that area alone—especially on Halloween.

  Stone Unturned

  Lonnie has another story about Halloween in the area of the Smith Woods.

  On Halloween, we boys didn’t have a lot to do in the country. We confined our mischief to harmless things, like putting brush in the middle of country roads or taking the bells off the cows and running through cornfields, ringing them so farmers would think their cows were in the corn.

  A couple of hills over, however, two young men, who were probably in their late teens or early twenties, were doing more harmful things. Huston and Billy Ray never had a job, and they became very skilled in stealing.

  People locked their smokehouses at night unless they wanted to risk a missing ham in the morning. Sometimes, if Huston and Billy Ray were desperate for food, they would break into a henhouse and steal some chickens and eggs before the squawking of the chickens brought their owner running out with a gun. Normally, though, this was too risky.

  Huston and Billy Ray were considered good-for-nothings, but they weren’t fools. They knew not to bother homes where men had their guns loaded and waiting. They especially liked to harass Widow Clark, who lived down the road from us.

  Widow Clark was a frail-looking lady, but she managed to keep her farm going after her husband died. She couldn’t do her own hog killing, but neighbors pitched in and helped her with things she couldn’t do for herself. She owned a shotgun, but it wasn’t in her nature to shoot to kill anyone. She had no lock on her smokehouse, so it was an easy target for Huston and Billy Ray. The boys thought it was funny to see Widow Clark come running out with her gun when she heard them prowling. Finally, the neighbor men got involved, put a lock on her smokehouse door, and had a word of warning for the would-be thieves.

  Widow Clark took great pride in her herb garden. She especially loved the stone statue of an angel that stood right in the middle. Her husband had bought it for her years ago, and it had taken two men to put it in place. It was good they got it positioned to suit her, because it was too heavy for her to move herself.

  She grew herbs in her garden that made her cooking tasty and cured most common ailments. She shared these generously with anyone who needed them.

  Since her neighbors were so good to her, Widow Clark tried to return the favor by helping them any way she could. She was always happy to sit up with someone who was sick so the rest of the family could get some sleep.

  Then Widow Clark got sick herself. Her heart simply gave out, and nothing could be done to help her. She died quietly at home one Halloween night with neighbors at her bedside.

  Halloween, of course, was the annual night for Huston and Billy Ray to go on the prowl. They wanted to treat themselves to one of Widow Clark’s hams, but more than that, they wanted to scare the old lady. That night, they planned to break in and steal her money.

  They didn’t know that Widow Clark was dead until they approached her house and saw all the people gathered inside.

  Huston and Billy Ray were grown men, but they still pouted like children when they didn’t get their way.

  “We can’t get away with a ham tonight,” said Billy Ray. “We’ll have to come back again later.”

  “Yeah,” said Huston. “Maybe while they’re burying her.”

  Thwarted, the childish young men felt they had to do something. They were standing right beside Widow Clark’s herb garden when they both had the same idea.

  “Let’s turn the angel statue over!”

  It took both of them pushing as hard as they could, but the statue eventually toppled. The sound brought out some of the people who were inside the house to see what had happened. No one came out to the garden because, in the darkness, they could not see what had made the noise.

  Huston and Billy Ray stood still so nobody would see them, but then they couldn’t move for another reason. They squinted to be sure of what they were seeing. A white mist was forming around the statue. Slowly it rose to its original standing position with nobody around to raise it.

  “It’s her ghost!” said Billy Ray.

  “Let’s get out of here!” cried Huston.

  The men who had come outside saw them as they ran and gave chase. This time Huston and Billy Ray spen
t some time in jail for all their mischief.

  Widow Clark was buried in the family graveyard. The neighbors thought it only proper that the widow and the statue be together. They carefully moved the statue of the angel and placed it between the graves of Widow Clark and her husband.

  Time in jail and a dose of the supernatural changed Huston and Billy Ray. They gave up stealing and they both got honest jobs.

  Autumn Apparitions

  Roberta recalls Halloweens past from her childhood days.

  Once we got past Labor Day, it felt as though one holiday fell on the heels of another. Our spirits lifted because these end-of-year holidays brought out real spirits, the spooky ones at Halloween and the inspiring ones at Thanksgiving. These holidays also brought the prospect of candy, chewing gum, and homemade goodies for trick-or-treaters at Halloween, and good food from a bountiful harvest for our Thanksgiving feast. We waited with delight for visits from relatives and friends.

  On Halloween, neighbors usually gathered at someone’s house and we played games, had treats, and told scary stories. The younger children carved pumpkins, bobbed for apples, and sometimes had a costume contest. The older boys would sometimes go out on their own to do a little mischief, like turn over an outhouse or lay a log across the road. Often they would hide and then come out to move the log when somebody couldn’t get by. Naturally, they acted like someone else had done it.

  The cold did not seem to bother us too much then. We liked to play hide-and-seek in the shocks of fodder that were tied up in the fields for the cattle to eat. We slid down haystacks when we could get away with it.

  At night at that time of year, we told stories inside around the fire because it was too cold to sit outside. Storytellers were not “professional” then, but they were some of the most gifted we have ever heard. We also talked about superstitions that some scoffed at and others accepted as the gospel. There were unforgettable stories based on some of these superstitions.

  Thanksgiving made us pause to reflect on our blessings. These were days of pumpkin and apple pies, vegetables and fresh-baked bread, and cured ham and fresh game, hunted only for the purpose of eating. The men were responsible for bringing home a wild turkey, and the women stayed up most of the night getting it ready for dinner the next day.

  Some families set a place at the table for loved ones who had gone before, but all of us were mindful of how good life was and how blessed we were. We were not surprised when a spirit came to visit.

  Some relatives from out of town could only come at Thanksgiving because they wanted to be with their immediate families at Christmas. The early presents they brought made the long, cold nights warm and happy. There were puzzles, card games like Old Maid and Authors, crayons and coloring books, and board games like Uncle Wiggily or checkers.

  As each holiday approached, we all became eager for company. Grandma Simpson would sometimes open the door and look out if she heard a car coming.

  Lonnie and I were in Russell County on business one Halloween, so I suggested that we drive back to Grandma Simpson’s old farm, where I had been born. New owners lived there, but they gave us permission to look around as long as we wanted to.

  It had been many years since I had been there, and the new owners had made many changes. The cherry tree that once stood at the turn of the lane was gone. The old house had been torn down, and a huge silo stood where the house had been. The fields where Dad planted crops were now fenced pastures with cattle roaming where I once played.

  As I stood looking toward the place where I had spent so many happy hours, I suddenly felt very strange. The cherry tree was there, very near to me. The silo was gone, and the house was back. I could see the trees around the yard. Then, much to my amazement, the door opened and there was Grandma Simpson, standing in the door looking out, as though she had heard our car. I wanted to run to her and go inside that house again, but when I stepped forward, the vision was gone. I was standing by the pasture fence with a big-eyed cow mooing at me.

  Did I really step back in time to take one last look at my first home? Were the powers of Halloween playing tricks on me? Did Grandma’s ghost hear our car and come to greet us? I never could explain it. In any case, the memories were with me.

  Memories are always with us, just as real as the experiences of the past. Remember, memories can haunt as well as people.

  Bethlehem Church

  Bethlehem Church is located between Russell Springs and Columbia, Kentucky, on Highway 80 in Russell County near the Adair County line. The church was built in the late 1800s and served the community for many, many years until its deteriorating condition required that the church be rebuilt in the early 2000s.

  There is an old belief that if you save a piece of wood from a church that has been torn down to make way for another building, this piece is considered sacred and will bring good luck to your home. Usually, it is blessed by a prayer for protection, and supposedly it brings the owner the positive presence of all those from the past who came to the church.

  Although we have been gone for many years from the old church, it will always have a special place in our hearts and memories. We were fortunate enough to get a piece of chestnut wood from the old church’s foundation to keep in our home, and since then, we have been blessed with unusually good luck. If this old piece of wood could talk, we wonder what stories it could tell.

  Both of our families attended the church, as did almost all the other people in the neighborhood. It was the religious and social center for the community.

  There were Sunday meetings, prayer meetings during the week, revivals, baptisms at nearby Russell Creek when the weather was warm, and plays or special programs on holidays. For us, there was always a peaceful atmosphere that gave us a sense of a combination of the songs, feelings, prayers, and beliefs of those who had gone before.

  One Halloween, we came to Russell Springs on business and went to visit the graves of our family members and put flowers on the graves. Looking back, we believe we encountered two of those long-ago people who came back to visit just as we did.

  When we parked on the road that wound its way through the cemetery, we paused to enjoy the view in all directions. Nobody else was in sight. We weren’t surprised by this, since there was a chilly wind that nipped at our fingers and noses. We were glad we had worn our heavy coats. We got out of the car and started placing the wreaths we had brought for our loved ones.

  As we finished, we turned and saw a woman and little girl looking at a tombstone in the middle of the graveyard. We had no idea of when they had arrived because we had been focused on our own errand, but, since no car was in sight, we figured they must have walked in or been dropped off.

  The woman was wearing a gray coat and scarf, and the little girl wore a blue coat with a red scarf. The woman’s shoulders were hunched forward against the wind, and the little girl huddled close to the woman. It was odd that they had come visiting without any flowers. They never looked at us or acknowledged us in any way.

  We turned back to put some flower boxes in our car trunk, and when we looked back, the two of them had gone! We had turned away for only a minute. We looked in all directions, but they were simply not there. No car was anywhere in sight. If the woman and girl were walking, we would have been able to see them. We were curious, so we walked to the area where we had seen them. Up close, we couldn’t be certain which grave they had been visiting. But we were certain that for a moment, the veil had been lifted from the beyond to allow spirits to come and go on that cold autumn day.

  Ghosts in Cemetery at

  Free Union Separate Baptist Church

  Lonnie tells a Halloween story about a cemetery near another church.

  Located in Adair County, a few miles from Bethlehem Church, the Free Union Separate Baptist Church stands by a cemetery that is said to be haunted. Roberta and I have been there many times because my grandparents, Milton and Zona Mae Rooks, my uncles, Ed and Charlie, and several other family members are buried t
here. It’s a peaceful country location and suggests nothing ghostly. We have seen strange shadows near tombstones, but nothing that could not be explained.

  My mother, Lena Brown, shared a story that she heard while she was visiting that cemetery one Halloween many years ago. She always went to visit the family graves when she came down from Louisville to visit relatives.

  She was walking through the middle of the graveyard when she noticed that she was not alone.

  Another visitor, a lady who said she was from Ohio, obviously had the same idea. She approached Mom and struck up a conversation.

  “Have you seen anything strange at the far section of the graveyard in the last few minutes?” she asked.

  “No,” my mother said. “I haven’t noticed anything unusual. I just got here, though, and I have just been looking for my family graves. Have you seen something?”

  “Well,” said the visitor, “I saw a man with a baby, and he just vanished. He had on a navy blue suit, and the baby was wrapped in a pink blanket. One minute they were there, and the next they were gone. I guess something must be wrong with my eyes.”

  “The sun can play tricks on us,” Mom said.

  She wondered if the woman was playing a trick on her because my mother had not seen anyone in the graveyard when she came in. Mom noticed that the woman was very pale, but she didn’t think much about it.

  Then the two women went their separate ways. Mom told us about the strange encounter, but we all let the story slip out of our minds.

  Then, in 2000, Lynwood Montell wrote a more detailed account of the ghostly man and baby in his book Ghosts across Kentucky, published by the University Press of Kentucky. He told of a couple that in 1972 had witnessed the ghost of a man holding a baby. They said he wore a navy blue suit and the baby’s blanket was pink. The man appeared to be in his fifties. The couple looked in the area where they had seen the ghost and found a tombstone of a man in his fifties and one beside it belonging to a baby with the same last name as the man.