S. E. Schlosser - Spooky South: Tales of Hauntings, Strange Happenings, and Other Local Lore

Also in the Spooky Series by S. E. Schlosser and Paul G. Hoffman:

Spooky California

Spooky Campfire Tales

Spooky Canada

Spooky Colorado

Spooky Florida

Spooky Georgia

Spooky Indiana

Spooky Maryland

Spooky Massachusetts

Spooky Michigan

Spooky Montana

Spooky New England

Spooky New Jersey

Spooky New York

Spooky North Carolina

Spooky Oregon

Spooky Pennsylvania

Spooky South Carolina

Spooky Southwest

Spooky Texas

Spooky Virginia

Spooky Washington

Spooky Wisconsin

Spooky Yellowstone

An imprint of Rowman & Littlefield

Distributed by NATIONAL BOOK NETWORK

Copyright 2004, 2016 by S. E. Schlosser

Text design by Lisa Reneson

Map by Paul G. Hoffman Rowman & Littlefield

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the publisher, except by a reviewer who may quote passages in a review.

British Library Cataloguing in Publication Information Available

The Library of Congress has catalogued the previous edition as follows:

Schlosser, S. E.

Spooky South : tales of hauntings, strange happenings, and other local lore / retold by S. E. Schlosser ; illustrations by Paul G. Hoffman. 1st ed.

p. cm.

Includes bibliographical references.

ISBN 978-0-7627-3063-6

1. GhostsSouthern States. 2. Haunted HousesSouthern States.

I. Title.

BF1472.U6S33 2004

133.10975-dc222004042548

ISBN 978-1-4930-1917-5 (paperback)

ISBN 978-1-4930-1918-2 (ebook)

The paper used in this publication meets the minimum requirements of American National Standard for Information SciencesPermanence of Paper for Printed Library Materials, ANSI/NISO Z39.48-1992.

For my family: David, Dena, Tim, Arlene, Hannah, Emma, Nathan, Karen, Deb, Gabe, Clare, Jack, Chris, Ben, and Davey.

For Aunt Millie, who faithfully read stories to all her nieces and nephews, and for Aunt Lynetta and Uncle John, who took us used book shopping.

For Coley, whose favorite Spooky Story is Chattanoogas Ghost.

For all my relatives who are smart enough to live in the South: Liz, Rich, Steven, Dan, Kirsten, Anne, Nathaniel, Melinda, Elizabeth, and Hannah.

Contents

Introduction

The beach sand gleamed irresistibly in the late winter sun, and I was quick to slide off my shoes and push my toes into the chilly, glittering granules. Bliss.

The day was warm; the breeze slight; and the beach empty of visitors. I joyfully locked my winter jacket in the car and started up the sandy path, my precious DSLR [digital single lens reflex camera] clutched in my hands. My feet worked harder than usual in the shifting sand, but I didnt care. This was sheer heaven after the bleak snow and ice of the North.

My mission that day was simple: photograph a picturesque abandoned lighthouse and then head over for a tour of a nearby haunted plantation. Lighthouses are a hobby of mine. Whenever a spooky research trip brings me in the vicinity of a lighthouse, I inevitably find myself aimed in its direction.

My quarry became visible as I topped a small sand dune; its red and white stripes angled in a continuous spiral down its length. To add more pathos to the heart-catching scene, a pair of bottlenose dolphins played in the surf before it. To my left, driftwood trees formed natural sculptures in the sand. To my right, a stone seawall thrust itself out into the waves. I raised my camera, not sure what to photograph first among so many wonders.

Many pictures later, I sat down on the seawall to breathe in the crisp, salty air and think about my journey so far through the spooky South with its many ghostsquite a number of which were associated with the sea. In Ocracoke Inlet, North Carolina, the pirate Edward Teach roams the beach looking for his lost head (Blackbeards Ghost). Farther south, the Sea Islanders of Georgia still use an old spell to help them get in contact with the spirits (Seeing Ghosts). And down in Brunswick, Georgia, a lonely ghost tries to lure family members into the waters of the inlet to join her in death (I Know Moonrise).

The sea was not the only body of water to produce ghosts. The swamplands and rivers of the South have their fair share of haunts as well. Down in New Orleans, an old roustabout refuses to go to heaven until hes smoked every last one of his expensive cigars (Chattanoogas Ghost). In Greenville, Mississippi, a drowning victim haunts an old drunk until he promises to lay off the booze (The Waves Call). Over in the Great Dismal Swamp of Virginia, Goggle-Eyed Jim keeps stealing horses long after hes dead. And in Hiawassee, Georgia, the phantom of a native warrior drives a grave robber into a flooded river at the height of a storm (The Dead Chief).

On land, spirits haunt mountain and valley, and all the places in between. In Charleston, South Carolina, the Army of the Dead nightly roams the streets, on their way to reinforce General Lees troops in Virginia. Over in Berlin, Maryland, a ghost hides a runaway slave who gets into trouble on his way to catch Harriet Tubmans Glory Train (Steal Away Home). And in Birmingham, Alabama, a sports-obsessed man gets into trouble with a ghost one night after staying out late to watch his home team defeat their rivals (The Baseball Game).

I glanced at my watch and reluctantly realized that it was time to head back to the car. I wonder what ghosts might be lurking unnoticed on my plantation tour this afternoon, I said to a greedy seagull trolling for leftovers. If any of them come scratch-scratch-scratching on the door like Tailypo, Im out of here! The seagull fluffed its feathers in sympathy, as if it understood my every word. With a sigh of regret, I slid off the seawall and headed toward the car.

At the top of the dune, I looked back toward the lighthouse and saw a glint at the top. My pulse quickened. Was that a glowing figure looking down at me from behind the glass? Or was it just a chance ray of sun? I blinked and the glint was gone. What had I just seen? I shivered in the warm sun, my arms all-over goose bumps. It was probably just a trick of the light. Or maybe not...

This is the spooky South, I reminded myself as I sped hastily toward the parking lot. Anything can happen here!

Happy Hauntings.

Sandy Schlosser

Part One

Ghost Stories