The Ghost Walk

I hate ghost stories. When I was a young girl a friend who lived up the street loved watching Friday the 13th, Nightmare on Elm Street, My Bloody Valentine (wow...do I really remember that one?!?) and the like. She would insist that I watch these things with her, which I did as any good friend would do. Invariably, as the music began to get louder and faster and along with it my adrenaline, I would have to run outside because I just knew my mom must be calling. Sleep would be chased away that night by images of burned men with knives for fingernails or masked men with chainsaws.

At last year's Hallowed Eve, I escaped the ghost stories by standing in the tavern at Living History Park, learning about the customs of a colonial harvest festival and asking braver souls their opinions of the event. This year, I was not so lucky. I tried to quiet the butterflies as we plod along behind giant black horses. I couldn't let my 13-year-old son see me quaking! About halfway through the first story, about the plight of old Abigail Stevens, I realized I would be just fine and actually began to enjoy myself. Perhaps it was the knowledge that I had my strapping son to protect me. Or perhaps it was simply that many of the "ghosts" I knew in the flesh.

Whichever it was, I'm looking forward to next year.

For this story, I thought it would be fun to condense the stories I heard. It was Crystal's idea, but I thought it was a great one.



Ghost walk offers spooky tales
By Lisa Kaylor Staff Writer
Posted October 28, 2008 4:42 PM

First-time visitors to the Spirits of Hallowed Eve at Living History Park Saturday may not have known what to expect, including getting chuckles instead of scares.
Rather than ghouls and gore, they got a taste of a colonial Halloween celebration, complete with bonfires, ghost stories and music.
"It was like Halloween comedy," Zach Burch, 15, said. "It was interesting."
The tour began with a horse-drawn carriage filled with passengers, which led the way for additional pedestrian guests, down the dirt driveway into the shadows of the park.
Throughout the park, buildings, people and trees were silhouetted against campfires and flaming torches. A small field behind the park's Colonial kitchen was pitch black by 7:25 p.m. and set the scene for tour guide Connie Burleson's tale of Irish traditions of the hearth fire.
"The hearth was very important to the Irish people," she said. "They kept a fire burning and coals burning in their hearths all the time. On Oct. 31, they would extinguish their hearths and go to a community celebration. They would return to their home with coals (from the community bonfire) and reignite their hearth."
The evening's event was a re-creation of such a celebration, complete with a large bonfire on the commons.
Visitors were invited to partake of refreshments such as cookies, hot chocolate and cider in the tavern while they listened to Jim McGaw play the dulcimer.
Outside, they joined Faire Wynds' Eric Scites in an 18th century sing-along. Then Scites and his family performed such pyrotechnics as fire eating and twirling a flaming hula hoop.
Washington Irving's headless horseman capped off the night by throwing firecrackers into the bonfire during Faire Wynds' retelling of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow.
Following are summarized versions of a few of the tales of woe.
Spirits of Hallowed Eve Tales
ON THE WALKING TRAIL: "Welcome, welcome" bade the deep, gravely voice of a man whose features were completely obscured by darkness. Chris Meyer's physical shape, which appeared to be wearing 18th century clothing, was proven by the firelight behind him.
He said that Abigail Stevens, a long time ago, married a wealthy merchant named Jorg Smith who beat her. She sought solace in the arms of a man named James while her husband was away on business.
When Jorg found out about the affair, he challenged James to a duel which was fought in the woods of what would become Living History Park.
Jorg won the duel by killing James. Unsatisfied with the victory, he went home and murdered poor Abigail. He was caught and put to death for his crimes.
"But to this very day it is said that Abigail's ghost walks these very woods, looking for her beloved James," Meyer said.
AT THE THOMPSON ACADEMY: Pam Schmidt, her hair and face covered in lace, welcomed visitors into the schoolhouse.
She introduced them to the spirit of her husband, which now resides in a raven.
"He was such a wonderful man. We have great conversations, you know," she said.
She said her great-grandmother and grandfather were witches from Salem, Mass., and she pleaded with visitors to come to the academy to learn to read, write, sew and cook.
Then she displayed her teaching credentials, which was in the form of a sampler on the underside of her apron.
"How come it's all blank?" asked a young voice from the small crowd.
"Oh, it is not blank. You just cannot see it," Schmidt exclaimed. "Oh, you just have to believe! It is a wonderful sampler, my son."
AT AN INDIAN CAMPSITE: Chuck Hudson, in full Indian regalia, stood over a campfire and related an Iroquois legend.
An evil wizard, who was believed to change himself into an owl and fly about doing evil things, had died. His body was placed in a cedar wood box and left in his lodge deep in the woods as was according to Iroquois custom.
One winter, a traveling family happened upon the lodge and chose to spend the night there. The man chose the bed closest to the door so that he could protect his family should trouble arise. The woman wrapped her baby in the only blanket she had, but had trouble herself falling asleep.
When she did finally slumber, she was awakened by the strange sound of an owl crunching the bones of a mouse.
She crawled to where her husband slept and found him dead, with his throat ripped out. Looking around, she saw that the top of the cedar box was open, and in it lay the skeleton of a large man whose teeth were red with blood.
She escaped, and ran toward the next village but heard the vampire skeleton behind her. She ran into the tent of one of the villagers, and the village warriors went looking for the predator. The skeleton began advancing toward them, but just then the sun came up and it ran back into the forest and disappeared.
"And this my friends is why you should not wander into the forest at night," Hudson admonished.
IN WILLOW SPRINGS MEETING HOUSE: A wailing woman draped in black led visitors into the meeting house, where they took seats on benches in front of a black coffin.
As she cried over the deceased, she gently lifted the lid and began wailing louder.
Slowly, a gnarled gray hand reached out of the coffin. A tattered corpse sat up and turned toward the audience... and screamed.
"You scared the life out of me!" said Tim Nealeigh, gasping for breath.
Standing, he said, "Allow me to present myself. My name is Canby. Dedus Canby. My friends just call me Ded."
Nealeigh, as Canby, gave a brief history of Halloween before telling the story of Stingy Jack.
Stingy Jack was very lucky, Canby said, because if he passed by a steaming pie in a windowsill or a hunk of meat in a barn, he would assume it was put there for him and he would take it.
One day he met the devil in an orchard and decided to trick him. Stingy Jack told the devil he wanted an apple from the top of a tree. But the devil told Stingy Jack that he had come for him. Stingy Jack told the devil that if he would get the apple, Stingy Jack would go with him.
So the devil climbed into the tree to get the apple. While he was in the tree, Stingy Jack ringed the bottom of the tree with crosses. Because the devil can't go past a cross, he was stuck in the tree. After extracting a promise from the devil that he would not go to "heck" when he died, Stingy Jack removed the crosses and let the devil come down from the tree.
One day, after plucking a large turnip, Stingy Jack died and found himself standing at the devil's door. But the devil wouldn't take him and told him to go to "that other place."
Then the devil tossed Stingy Jack an ember so he could see his way in the dark. The ember was too hot to hold, so Stingy Jack cut out the inside of the turnip and put the ember in it. Then he could see the pathway that led him to heaven.
But at the gates of heaven, he was turned away because of the way he'd lived.
"So Stingy Jack is still wandering around with his light, still trying to find a place to stay," Canby said.
Reach Lisa Kaylor at lisa.kaylor@northaugustatoday.com.