The Legend of the Wampus Cat
Duckie
by Traci Poole
June 29, 2000
Growing up in a family that has been dotted with hillbillies from the
mountains of Tennessee, from the hills of West Virginia, and
Pennsylvania, I have heard many ghosts stories. Ranging from coal mine
ghosts, hillbilly ghosts, and mysterious half man/woman, cat like
creatures. I have heard 2 different stories about the legend of the
Wampus Cat. Here is one of those stories that was told to me.
We often fished and camped along the Shenandoah River. My ex
stepfather's kin would often go with us. As my aunt, uncle,mom, and ex
stepfather would sit up in the wee hours of the night, cat fishing, my
great uncle would sit around the camp fire and tell us ghosts stories.
Uncle Jinx had a way of making the hairs stand up on our arms and have
our goosebumps multiplying on top of each other. Uncle Jinx was a
robust man. He stood about 6 feet high and weighed around 200 pounds.
His personality matched his gruff voice but Uncle Jinx had a heart of
gold. I used to call him "Boxcar Willy" because his looks favored the
singer. "Get over here yung'ins. Yere ol' uncle got some stories to
tell you," Uncle Jinx would holler at us. My brother,step brother,
step sister, and two step cousins would run to the fire and gather
around it. "Patricia, don't be crowdin' me to much. Ya hear? Don't
want that ol' Wampus Cat gettin' me." Uncle Jinx used to call me
Patricia for some reason. Either way, I would get very close to him. I
couldn't wait for him to begin. The camp fire would cast eery shadows
on our faces and the shadows would dance on the leaves of the trees.
The wind would catch the leaves just right, causing them whistle. When
the wind blew harder, you could hear their limbs creak, making a loud
and spooky noise. Uncle Jinx somehow knew when to tell us his stories.
He would always start out by asking which story we wanted to hear.
"Patricia, what story do you want to hear?" He would always smile at
me."The Wampus Cat!!" I would scream at him. I gathered the blankets
around me and waited to be scared out of my skin.
There was an old woman who lived by herself in the hills of West
Virginia. Townfolk swore she was a witch. People would complain their
cattle would be hexed and other farm animals would come up missing.
They all blamed the old woman because she lived like a hermit.
Supposedly, she would turn herself into a cat and hide until someone
would open the door. She would dart into the house and wait for her
victims to fall asleep. She would cast a deeper sleeping spell on the
farmer and then she would slip out of the window to steal a farm
animal. The witch was so good at what she was doing, she was never
caught. One day, the townfolks decided they had grown tired of their
livestock coming up missing or dead. They devised a plan to catch the
witch in her own act. She snuck into an unsuspecting house and placed
the whole family under her spell. She jumped out the window as she had
always done and went straight for a cow or sheep. Uncle Jinx always
changed the animal this woman was after. The old woman, still in her
cat form, went to the barn. She began chanting spells to change
herself back into human form. Before it was completed, several people
jumped out and surprised her. The poor old woman never had the chance
to complete the transformation. It left her half woman and half cat. A
ghastly creature to the eye sight. The creature howled with fright and
broke down the door. She ran off into the night, never to be seen
again. Uncle Jinx always said time is important for a witch if she was
changing back from an animal to a human again. The spell she had
casted upon herself could never be reversed or fixed. The witch was
doomed to be the Wampus Cat for the rest of her life. On nights when
the moon is high, and the wind is blowing hard, you can see this
creature. It walks upright like a human but has the body of a large
cat. It howls and supposedly still stalks the hills of West Virginia.
This creature is said to stalk farm animals but prefers young children
the best. Uncle Jinx would always finish his story by telling us how
he used to go raccoon hunting. He and his 'coon dogs would be out
looking for raccoons to tree. The moon would always be bright in the
sky and the howls of the Wampus cat would ring in his ears.One night,
the dogs were way ahead of him. He kept hollering for them to return
but they never did. Uncle Jinx went on to tell us how he tripped over
something and his rifle went flying out of his hands. He smelled an
awful smell. He said it smelled like a skunk and a wet dog. He looked
up and saw this hideous creature. Saliva dripping from its fangs, and
yellow eyes that glowed in the dark, and a howl that nearly brought
him out of his skin. Uncle Jinx looked for his rifle but it was lost
in the dark. He got up and slowly backed away from the creature. He
turned around and ran as fast as he could towards home. Uncle Jinx
told us how he could feel and smell its breath on his neck. He bolted
inside his house and slammed the door. He reached for his bible and
began reading out loud. The Wampus Cat howled at his words. Finally,
just as the sun peeked over the hill, the Wampus Cat had left. He said
this was the reason he stopped treeing raccoons at night. Uncle Jinx's
fear of the Wampus Cat was greater than chasing a raccoon up a tree.
The second version I remember reading about but I do not remember the
book or the person's name who told the story. According to an old
Indian legend, the Wampus Cat was created. It was said that a young
Indian woman did not trust her husband. It was custom for the men of
the Indian tribe to hunt while the women did things around the
encampments. The women were forbidden to hunt.One night, she placed
the hide of a mountain cat on her body. She snuck out to spy on her
husband to see what he did on his hunting trips. As the hunters
gathered around their camp fires, the woman watched them. She became
fascinated with the stories and the magic that was presented to the
men of the Indian tribe. The poor woman was caught and for her crime,
she was transformed into what is known as the Wampus Cat. The woman
was doomed to be forever half woman and half mountain cat. The ghost
of the Wampus Cat is still said to walk the hills of Tennessee,
Virginia, and West Virginia. On full moons, you can see the Wampus Cat
howling. Is she howling because of her grave mistake and wishes to be
transformed back to her humanly body?
But just remember this, when you are camping in the woods, and you
hear her wail, she is near and may come to visit you.
**Author's note: Treeing means to chase a raccoon up a tree. Treeing a
raccoon also meant getting up at 1 am and look for them until the wee
hours of morning. Raccoons are nocturnal animals by nature and they
roam the forests at night. My Uncle Jack and Uncle Jinx use to raise
Spotted-Blue Tick hounds which are hunting hounds.**
katie
Duckie <jmstw...@earthlink.net> wrote in message
news:f6l1us8bpa71eg6ih...@4ax.com...
> The Legend of the Wampus Cat
> by Traci Poole
> June 29, 2000
>
>
> Growing up in a family that has been dotted with hillbillies from the
> mountains of Tennessee, from the hills of West Virginia, and
> Pennsylvania, I have heard many ghosts stories. Ranging from coal mine
> ghosts, hillbilly ghosts, and mysterious half man/woman, cat like
> creatures. I have heard 2 different stories about the legend of the
> Wampus Cat. Here is one of those stories that was told to me.
8< respectfully snipped >8
Great story Traci! Thanks!
katie
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Duckie
it. Maybe someone else knows.
Duckie
On Mon, 9 Oct 2000 16:45:16 -0400, "Grinch" <notac...@zip.com>
wrote:
>Thank you for the story. I am new here,and I apologize if I am being
>impolite by being so forward, but I was wondering if anyone here knows
>anything about a haunted doll story from Key West?
>
>Grinch
Duckie
last 36 hours :)
Duckie
On Mon, 09 Oct 2000 00:03:59 GMT, WynterPhantom
<wynter...@my-deja.com> wrote:
>I've heard the story about the Indian woman! Thank you for all the
>stories!
>
>In article <Ry5E5.326$lw3....@eagle.america.net>,
> "katie" <gingerr...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>>
>> Duckie <jmstw...@earthlink.net> wrote in message
>> news:f6l1us8bpa71eg6ih...@4ax.com...
>> > The Legend of the Wampus Cat
>> > by Traci Poole
>> > June 29, 2000
>> >
>> >
>> > Growing up in a family that has been dotted with hillbillies from
>the
>> > mountains of Tennessee, from the hills of West Virginia, and
>> > Pennsylvania, I have heard many ghosts stories. Ranging from coal
>mine
>> > ghosts, hillbilly ghosts, and mysterious half man/woman, cat like
>> > creatures. I have heard 2 different stories about the legend of the
>> > Wampus Cat. Here is one of those stories that was told to me.
>>
Duckie
by Traci Poole
July 12, 2000
Many of the legends and ghosts stories below I have read,heard or saw
a television show about. Stories of the paranormal have always
fascinated me. I posted these stories to the newsgroup,
alt.folklore.ghost-stories, last year.
The Omen of Queen Elizabeth I
It is said that Elizabeth I had a terrible premonition of her death.
She dreamt that she had seen herself lying in bed, shriveled, and near
death. She was said to have been psychic. It bothered her so much that
it literally killed her. Her ghost is supposed to haunt the Library at
Windsor Castle and the expression that of the ghost of Elizabeth I
wears is the exact replica of the one she had when she visioned her
death.
Origins of "A Skeleton in Every Closet"
This phrase came from the age of the Vikings. It was tradition for the
Vikings, when building a new home, to choose a young victim, murder
them, and bury them under the very first stone. They believed that
young spirits were more frightening, therefore keeping the older
ghosts at bay. The Saxons, on the other hand, would wall up victims
alive in the walls of their newly built homes. If the houses were
built on or remodeled in any way, skeletons of the victims would often
be in the walls of the old home--thus giving us the phrase "There is a
skeleton in every closet."
Lorelei
A name given to the German water spirit. It is said she stands on the
cliffs of the Rhine river and sings to the sailors of the water.
Supposedly, the song of the Lorelei beckoned the men to the cliffs. As
soon as they realized what was happening, their ships and boats would
break upon the cliffs, sending the panic strickened men to their
deaths.
The Phantom Tolling Bells of the British Isles
A once thriving city of Dunwich, which is now completely under water,
is said to have bells tolling. These bells were heard usually after a
terrible storm and almost always at Christmas time. Many people have
reported these tolling phantom bells were from Wales, Scotland, and
Ireland. These bells still ring today. Could it be that the waters
ring the bells or could it still be the once bell ringer of the sunken
lands?
The Banshee
Also known as the "Bean Si". She is easily described as a very
beautiful woman, clothed in a velvety green dress, and a black cloak
that surrounds her shoulders. She is also descibed as an old hag,
dressed in her traditional funeral wraps or funeral clothes. She is
heard wailing at an appointed family members birthplace. Though the
banshee speaks in unknown tongues, her message is plainly clear--a
member of the family will soon perish. It is not known whether or not
the banshee was a family member of long ago or a woman who was scorned
by the family she now haunts. If she becomes upset or irritated for
any reason, then she is said to disappear for generations. The
Scottish folks also had their own form of banshee. Only theirs was
called "Bean-Nighe". This form of ghost is described as being a woman
who has died in childbirth. She is supposed to be very ugly, with some
parts of her body being deformed.Either way, all of these women only
have 1 message. Hear their voices and you, too, will know, that
someone is going to die.
Hell Hounds
These are a ghostly pack of black dogs that said to be part of the
devils' hunting pack. They are the bringers of death. The most famous
legend of them all is the Hounds of Dartmoor. They are said to guide
the devil on his death carriage to bring unsuspecting souls aboard. A
Plymouth legend has it that the ghost of Sir Francis Drake has been
seen driving a ghostly carriage with a hell hound at the reins and a
pack of them guiding Drake to yet another lost soul. They are usually
described as large black dogs, with fangs dripping with blood, fiery
red eyes, and a loud and hair-raising howl.
Faery Dogs
This dog is crossed between the traditional banshee and the hell
hound. It is found in the highlands and the surroundings isles of
Scotland. The creature is the size of a small heifer and green in
color and this mystical creature moves silently and swiftly to the
unsuspecting victim. If the person hears 3 barks of the faery dog,
then the person will soon perish. The Isle of Tiree is the place where
most of the sightings have taken place. Here on this isle, a cave was
found to which the local folks believed that this dogs have made their
home. Consequently, it is known as "the liar of the faery dog".
The Hauntings of Marcus Brutus
Everyone knows how Brutus played a major role in the murder of Caesar
himself. Roman legend has it that Caesar came forth in spirit form to
haunt Brutus for the brutal slaying. The next haunting of Brutus
occurred when a ghost appeared to him just before the battle of
Philippi. It is said the ghost appeared to him the night before the
battle. The ghost stated that his death was very near and Brutus will
see the ghost for the last time on the battlefield. Just as the ghost
said, Brutus met his fate on the bloody battlefield at Philippi.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
July 12, 2000
Many of the legends and ghosts stories below I have read,heard or saw
a television show about. Stories of the paranormal have always
fascinated me. I posted these stories to the newsgroup,
alt.folklore.ghost-stories, last year.
The Omen of the Borgia Family
The Italian legend states that the Borgia's of Italy are the most
haunted family of all time. As the Borgia's were cruel and down right
evil could possibly be the reason for the hauntings. It is said that
the ghost of a coffin often appears to the person who is doomed.
Sitting on the ghostly coffin is a member of the Borgia family,
warning them the end is near and to repent for past and present evil
deeds. Whether or not the omen continues to this day is left to the
family.
Anne Boleyn
The doomed wife of Henry the 8th was beheaded in the tower of London.
Legend states that unsuspecting guards have seen an illumniated
ghostly figure, dressed in a long dress, searching the premises of the
Tower Chapel and at the premises of Tower Hill. The ghostly woman
appears to be headless. Perhaps she is looking for her head and will
not rest until it is securely with her body.
Spunkies
In Scottish folklore, these "spunkies" are said to be the ghosts of
infants who had no name at death. It is said that they roam the
streets and country villages, looking for anyone to give them a name
so that they may rest in peace. It is also said that they have the
power to turn themselves into tiny white moths and flutter around in
the darkness.
The Tyrone Ghost of Ireland
Lord Tyrone and Lady Beresford became fast friends. They made a pact
in which whoever shall die first, to come back to let the other friend
know that there in deed is life after death. Unfortunately, Lord
Tyrone died first. He came back to visit Lady Beresford. It is said
that he wrote in her bedside notebook and as he left, he touched Lady
Beresford's arm in a loving and gentle act. In the morning, she
thought she had been dreaming. She picked up the notebook and to her
surprise, Lord Tyrone indeed did visit. But to her demise, Lady
Beresford's arm was never the same. It shriveled up and became useless
to her.
The Guardian of England
In an old Shropshire legend, Wild Edric and his ghostly followers are
said to warn England of an uprising war. It is said that they will
always go to the warriors who are leading the attacks against England
and strike or stop them from the invasion. One of the ghostly
followers of Edric is said to be his wife, Lady Godda.
An interesting footnote: During Edric's crusades agaisnt William the
Conquerer, Erdic happened upon a wooded area in which he saw faeries.
He fell in love with one of the faery women who consequently turned
out to be Lady Godda or better known as the "Faery Wife of Wild
Edric".
Ghost Trees
In many legends across the world, ghost trees have been a part of the
folklore. It is said that when a member of the deceased has been
buried at the base of a tree, the soul of the dead takes the life of
the tree. The tree takes on the form of the resemblance of the dead.
Often voices of the dead can be heard, rustling through the leaves of
the tree. On moonlit nights, many people swear they have seen the
faces of their loved one in the bark of the trees. It is also said
that when these trees are cut down before their time, the wood has
been seen with dripping blood. Moans have been heard as well.
Ghosts of the America's Wild West
Many people have reported seeing apparitions of these ghostly figures,
ranging from Cowboys and Indians, to seeing buffalo and cattle as
well. Covered wagons have been spotted along the Oregon trails, the
Sante Fe trail, and the California trail. The famous ghosts of the
Wild West are Jesse James, who haunts the own of Lawrence, Ka; Billy
the Kid, who haunts Ft. Sumner, NM; Wyatt Earp haunts Tombstone, AZ;
Wild Bill Hickok who haunts the town of Deadwood, SD; Chief Little Owl
who haunts his old tribal grounds in CO. More so ever, the many
Indians and white settlers who were slain during the Battle of Wounded
Knee in SD. Their voices can still be heard on the lonely prairie at
night, still fighting for just causes.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
August 10, 2000
Many of the legends and ghosts stories below I have read,heard or saw
a television show about. Stories of the paranormal have always
fascinated me. I posted these stories to the newsgroup,
alt.folklore.ghost-stories, last year.
Maras
Maras or better known as "Nightmare Givers" are often seen on the
chest of people who are evil in life. It is said that they are the
ghosts of tortured souls who in life were murdered by the people they
now haunt. They are also said to be the victims of scorned lovers and
that they take shape in the form of a naked woman to cause their lover
hell in the present life by sending their victims nightmares until
they die. This can be found in the Scandinavian folklore.
The Premonition of Rachel Upshur
A few days before Christmas Day of 1749, Rachel Upshur awoke from a
terrible nightmare. In her nightmare, she saw someone being bitten by
a fox. This worried Rachel terribly and she told her husband, Abel.
Abel brushed this off as just a nightmare--nothing more and nothing
less.One night, while the couple lay sleeping in their bed, a
commotion brought Abel out of a sound sleep. He gently woke his wife
and told her he was going to check on the farm animals. Rachel begged
and begged her husband not to go out into the blustery night. He told
her everything was going to be fine and not to worry. Rachel became
distraught and went over her husband. Rachel found Abel safe and
sound. As they were ascending upon the steps of their home, a fox
dashed out from under the porch and bit Rachel in the ankle and heel.
Blood leaked out onto the steps and Rachel was put to bed. A few days
later, Rachel was no longer coherent to her surroundings. With a heavy
heart, Abel smothered his wife between 2 feather mattresses thus
ending her fits of rabies. She died on Christmas day of 1749. Abel
went out that afternoon to scrub the stones at the bottom of the
steps. Needless to say, his efforts weren't enough for everytime it
rains, Rachel's blood can be seen just as if it were fresh. The stains
are claimed to be there today--after 200 years of weathering.
The Ghost of Louis Napoleon
The ghost of Napoleon is said to walk the battlefields of Iteleni, S
Africa. The mother of Napoleon, Empress Eugenie made a journey to
where her son had died in battle. Yet she knew nothing of the area, it
was said that friendly ghosts of the battle had guided her to the
exact spot where her son was killed. She stated that this was the
exact spot because of the cologne Napoleon wore. Dressed in his battle
gear, Napoleon appeared to the Empress, telling her this was the spot
in which his blood was spilled. To this day, the people of Natal swear
they see him fall to the ground and die.
Gremlins
Though gremlins are only in folklore, it was recently reported that
during WW2, these pesky spirits were said to frequent the engines of
the warplanes--causing them to crash. They are said to look like
goblins and very mischievous.
Interesting footnote: Gremlins are said to seen near electrical
contraptions and factories. For some reason, they enjoy electricity
and enjoy watching humans getting upset as they humans try to fix the
problem.
Author's Note: On September 1, 1999, our fire alarm was acting weird.
Here is the story that I wrote to AFGS newsgroup. Somehow, it may have
been a 'gremlin' as I described above. I will leave it to you, the
reader, to decide.
Early this morning, around 5am, our fire alarm at the top of the
stairs kept going off. Mind you, we took the battery out to keep it
from beeping. So now the alarm runs off of electric now. Anyhow, my
husband was downstairs, getting ready for work when it was going off.
He would race to the stairs and about 1/2 way, it would stop. Jeff
would go back down the stairs. As if to mock my husband, the alarm
would go off once again and in turn, Jeff would race to the top of the
landing--only for the darn thing to stop. I laughed at him and said
maybe it was haunted and the ghostie was playing tricks on him.
Needless to say, Jeff rolled his eyes and went back down stairs. For
the last time, the alarm went off and Jeff raced again to the stairs,
hollering colorful 4 letter words at the alarm. As if to say "Ok--I'll
stop", the alarm only beeped. I called the FD and asked about such
things and their reply was , "Did your electric go off at anytime?" I
said no that it hadn't, and the fireman on the other end said, "Well,
Ma'am. I cannot tell you why it did that." Oh well...so for finding
the explanation.
The Pact of the Mazarin Duchess & Royal Mistress
The Duchess of Mazarin and the Royal Mistress, had formed a death
pact. Who shall ever die first, will come back to visit the other. As
their friendship grew, their pledge was even deeper. For in 1671, the
Royal Mistress was confronted by the ghostly appearance of her friend.
As the mistress sat dumbfounded by her friend, the Duchess of Mazarin
said that she (mistress) will be joining her in the afterlife. The
mistress wrote down what she had seen. The next morning the
chambermaid found the mistress dead.
The Haunting of George Villier
Late one night as George Villier, the Duke of Buckingham, was
enjoying fine wine and the company he was keeping in Windsor Castle,
the ghostly form of his father appeared. The ghost told Villier that
if he didn't change his ways, he will die. Needless to say, the Duke
didn't heed his father's warnings, for after the 2nd warning, the Duke
was assignated.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
July 12, 2000
Many of the legends and ghosts stories below I have read,heard or saw
a television show about. Stories of the paranormal have always
fascinated me. I posted these stories to the newsgroup,
alt.folklore.ghost-stories, last year.
The Ghost of Lucretia Dunkley; Berrima, Au
Here in the tiny town of Berrima, Au, a gruesome haunting takes place.
In 1842, an inn keeper was brought to trial for the murders and
robberies of customers of the inn. The towns-people dragged her to the
gallows where Lucretia lost her head. It is said that they hung her
body up as a grim reminder of crimes and they buried her head
elsewhere. On October 22 of each year, Lucretia has been
sighted--looking for her head. Her ghost is also to have been seen
hanging from a ghostly tree.
Phantom Birds of Prominent Families
In Orehampton of Devon, a white breasted ghost bird flutters over the
Oxenhams. A warning to them that a member of their family is dying.
An owl is said to hoot and squawk at the members of the Arundel family
of Wardour when one of its members is to die.
A white swan with a bloodied chest, appears to the Kirkpatricks of
Closeburn Castle.
Ship of the Dead
During the times of pirates, it was a popular belief that if a pirate
or a sailor died on land, a ghostly ship would come to the shores of
the deceased, and a crew of ghosts would come and gather the dead
pirate/sailor for an adventure in the afterlife. This ship came to be
known as the Ship of the Dead.
The Haunting of William Custis
William Custis was born into a prominent family. Not only was he the
Eastern Shore's first postmaster but the son of the first
Revolutionary War Officer. Custis had been know to torture and beat
the slaves that had worked for him. The people were literally
frightened of his fiery temper and often would cross the street to
avoid his wrath. Late one night, Custis proceeded to get drunk. When
he called for more drinks, the son of a slave woman, brought them to
him. The little boy tripped and fell, spilling the contents all over
the floor. In a hellish yell, Custis beat the boy, leaving him in a
bloody pool. The mother raced to the living room and saw Custis over
her child. She began chanting a spell and grew louder as Custis
screamed louder. She gathered the boy into her arms and told him
everything will be alright for she had called the devil to come and
take Custis away. A few hours had passed and the people were readying
themselves for bed when a flash of light came from the sky. Thunderous
crashes were heard and as one man looked out the window, he saw a
black carriage and driving it was a dark figure with red eyes. The
carriage stopped in front of Custis' house. Yelling was heard and then
finally silence. The figure had Custis by the arm, dragging him to the
carriage. The next day brought the slaves to talk about the fore
night. The slave woman who said the curse, went in front of the house.
In front of her feet were the singed wheel marks of the carriage. She
sent him directly to hell.
The Helpful Ghost of Mt Everest
According to 2 climbers, this ghost helped them finish their trek. The
2 climbers struggled to finish their climb. They set up shop on the
mountain and was overcome by calming presence. The presence supposedly
shared their make-shift tent. The climbers stated that the ghost
encouraged them to finish the climb and was with them the last part of
it. They believe it was a climber by the name of Andrew Irvine who
disappeared on the mountain 50 years before them.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
June 21, 2000
My fascination with this love affair most tempted me when I was alone.
My senses were aroused as I could only imagine. Hidden desires awoke
me, causing my heart to race. My hands became sweaty as I wrung them
frantically. My kids were nestled in their beds and my husband was
sleeping. They would never know. I had to put this secret desire to
rest.
I crept into the bathroom and combed my hair. I brushed my teeth and
washed my face with a cool splash of water. I fixed my clothes and
slipped on my sandals. I quietly slipped out the door. I looked up at
the windows to make sure my family didn't see me. I tried to push the
guilt from mind as images of my secret desire slowly crept to me.
I drove to the corner and saw the beautiful sign, decorated in oranges
and pinks. I knew my heart's desire was only a few feet away from me.
I opened the door and there I saw him. The man behind the counter. His
blue eyes twinkling and his blonde hair gently messed up. He knew what
I wanted. He took my hand and gently led me away from the counter to
the tiny booth that sat in the corner. My heart still raced as I
waited for him to return. I slowly sipped the coffee that I had. As I
looked up, I saw what I wanted. There it was. It was the longest piece
of art that had ever been made by man or woman. Creamy white and very
tantalizing. I gently touched it. It was so soft to my touch. I placed
my finger to my mouth and savored the taste. It was so sweet to the
lips and tongue. I picked it up ever so gently and placed it into my
mouth. I could feel the sweet and sticky substance onto my tongue. I
slowly rolled it around my mouth as I slowly swallowed it. I could
feel my mouth water as I took more into it. I tried shoving it all
into my mouth but I looked up and I saw his blue eyes staring at me. I
decided that I had better take it slower. I pulled it out and took
only a little bit this time. He smiled at me. I closed my eyes as the
sticky white cream squirted into my mouth. I moaned under the pressure
that I was under. My heart raced as I looked up at the handsome man
for the last time. I slowly licked my fingers and wiped the sticky goo
from my mouth. My guilt had left me.
I thanked the man for his time and I walked out. I stepped back into
my car. I went back home and sat in the driveway. I looked in the
mirror and fixed my hair. I made sure there was no signs of my love
affair. I realized how wrong I was. I jumped back into the car and
went back to the building that had the pretty pinks and oranges. I
walked back to the man with the twinkling blue eyes and his messed up
blonde hair. He smiled at me. I looked him and returned the smile,
"Yes, I would like to have one dozen of eclaires to go please."
Duckie
August 10, 2000
Did you know...
...when a viking died, he was buried w/ all of his armour and his
horse just in case he met with battle on the other side?
...the traditional Irish wakes was always played with loud music to
keep evil spirits from possessing the newly deceased?
...sometimes the Japanese would kill the wives and animals for the
newly deceased? It was so the dead wouldn't be lonely.
...ancient Chinese used to tear up pieces of paper with hopes of
confusing the evil spirits from following them to cemetery and knowing
the location of the dead?
...that there are more male ghosts than female? **according to author
William Montell**
...that there was a ritual in which an appointed man would eat the
sins of the dead? He would sprinkle the body with salt and bread on
the body and then eat it? Needless to say, the man was paid very well
for doing so.
...the English would kill a person and bury them in a newly appointed
graveyard to watch over it?
...in some countries, if a child died, a dog would be buried with it?
Reasons because a dog can always find its way home.
...sage was used in telling young women who their future husbands
were?
...there is a way to catch a ghost? Place an empty bottle in the
corner of the room--high near the ceiling. When the bottle jolts
around, you have caught your ghost. This practice was also used to
catch "witch spirits". It was called the Witch Bottle.
...Virginia is said to be the most haunted state in the Americas?
...Japanese would throw lavish parties for their dead? They would
invite a medium to talk to them and the lavish parties was satisfy the
ghosts of the relatives so they would not come back to haunt the
living.
...a baka is a flesh eating creature who in their living life was part
of a secret cult--according to Haitian legend?
..the cat is the mostly seen animal for ghosts?
...in Europe, on Christmas day, the ghosts are banned from visiting
the living?
...when a rooster crows in the morning, it is a signal for all ghosts
to return to their respectful places?
...the Celtic men would sleep on their deceased graves and if they
made contact, the bodies of these men would jump and make them crazy?
...pirates would kill a member of their clan and bury them with their
treasure so others pirates and sailors wouldn't beable to get to it?
The ghost was supposed to ward off the living.
...horses, dogs, and cats can detect if a ghost is near?
...in some cases, a ghost came forth to seek justice for murder and
the judge found the evidence to be truthful and correct?
...the old superstition of the witching hour (midnight) is still
widely believed today?
...ghosts cannot cross running water?
...George Washington saw a ghost that foretold what America would be
like if he did not bring peace the people?
...ancient Egyptians would turn their dead in circles to confuse them
so they would not return to the living?
katie
> The Affair
> by Traci Poole
> June 21, 2000
>
>
>
> My fascination with this love affair most tempted me when I was alone.
> My senses were aroused as I could only imagine. Hidden desires awoke
> me, causing my heart to race. My hands became sweaty as I wrung them
> frantically. My kids were nestled in their beds and my husband was
> sleeping. They would never know. I had to put this secret desire to
> rest.
8< respectfully snipped >8
Too funny!
Lee Reynolds
James Whyley wrote:
> > ...the English would kill a person and bury them in a newly appointed
> > graveyard to watch over it?
>
> Usually it was the first person to be buried there that was considered to be
> the guardian, 99% of the time they died of natural causes. Usually the only
> things killed to be appointed guardians were cats or dogs, this practice
> applied to houses and other buildings as well as graveyards. It was
> considered unlucky to build a house without sealing the body of a cat within
> the walls to act as a guardian spirit for the building. Normally beneath the
> hearth or in the chimney.
>
> I only found this out when a friend redecorated and one of the builders
> found one. It's quite common in old houses apparently.
>
> James
One of my high school teachers in Herndon Va, which is just southeast of DC, had
a mummified cat which had been found in the floorboards of an old house
somewhere. He didn't have any idea how the cat had gotten there, this practice
might be the reason.
Was it ever practiced in the US?
Lee
WynterPhantom
stories!
In article <Ry5E5.326$lw3....@eagle.america.net>,
"katie" <gingerr...@hotmail.com> wrote:
>
> Duckie <jmstw...@earthlink.net> wrote in message
> news:f6l1us8bpa71eg6ih...@4ax.com...
> > The Legend of the Wampus Cat
> > by Traci Poole
> > June 29, 2000
> >
> >
> > Growing up in a family that has been dotted with hillbillies from
the
> > mountains of Tennessee, from the hills of West Virginia, and
> > Pennsylvania, I have heard many ghosts stories. Ranging from coal
mine
> > ghosts, hillbilly ghosts, and mysterious half man/woman, cat like
> > creatures. I have heard 2 different stories about the legend of the
> > Wampus Cat. Here is one of those stories that was told to me.
>
> 8< respectfully snipped >8
>
> Great story Traci! Thanks!
>
> katie
>
> ---
> Outgoing mail is certified Virus Free.
> Checked by AVG anti-virus system (http://www.grisoft.com).
> Version: 6.0.193 / Virus Database: 93 - Release Date: 9/19/00
>
>
--
Amie ~ Porch Babbler by the Brooke
http://www.geocities.com/wynterjade
Sent via Deja.com http://www.deja.com/
Before you buy.
James Whyley
WynterPhantom
In article <k162usckkgiifvuvm...@4ax.com>,
Duckie <jmstw...@earthlink.net> wrote:
> You're welcome :) I thought it may help take the edge off from the
> last 36 hours :)
>
> Duckie
>
> On Mon, 09 Oct 2000 00:03:59 GMT, WynterPhantom
> <wynter...@my-deja.com> wrote:
>
James Whyley
news:39E149D1...@yahoo.com...
DC, had
> a mummified cat which had been found in the floorboards of an old house
> somewhere. He didn't have any idea how the cat had gotten there, this
practice
> might be the reason.
>
> Was it ever practiced in the US?
>
> Lee
Probably, it'd make sense for customs to move with the people. So I guess
it's quite likely to have been continued in some areas.
James
Tinkerbell
the rules <g>
--
June
Goddess, and Flippant She-Creature
Concubine to The King in Yellow
Boycott the Pumps - Boycott Petrol @ BP. Stay Away From Every BP Petrol
Station INDEFINITELY
http://www.boycott-the-pumps.com/
"Duckie" <jmstw...@earthlink.net> wrote in message
news:9e82usoa5rqi72e25...@4ax.com...
> Did You Know...?
> by Traci Poole
> August 10, 2000
>
>
>
> Did you know...
Duckie
by Traci Poole
June 14, 2000
Silent Agony
All rights reserved by Traci Poole. All original material.
Tess looked around the brightly lit hospital waiting area. Children
crying while parents trying to soothe them. She glanced up at the
clock that loudly ticked on the flowered colored wall paper. "How much
longer?" she sighed. Tess grabbed a tattered magazine from the table.
The doctor who was in charge of her sister's release, walked towards
Tess. "Hello doctor. Is my sister ready for release?" Tess stood up to
greet him.
"Before I release her, there are some questions I need to discuss with
you first. Let's go to the chapel where we can talk about it." the
doctor said. He began walking to the tiny chapel that was at the end
of the hallway. Tess took a deep breath and followed the tall man. The
doctor opened the doors and sat down at the empty pew. "Did you know
why she did this?" the doctor questioned her.
"No, not really. I was at the library when it happened. My roommate
paged me and said that there was an emergency. Did she mention
anything to you?" Tess held her breath because she had hoped that
Taryn didn't tell him of the dreams and nightmares that had plagued
her since she was a tiny child.
"No. Taryn didn't tell me a thing. She didn't give any reason to me
nor the nurses." The doctor placed his hand to his brow. "This is what
I am going to do. Taryn is of sound mind but she needs to be released
to her family. She has asked that you take her home. I will be more
than happy to release her to your care but she must not leave you. Do
you understand Tess? This is imperative that you listen to what I am
telling you." the doctor said.
Tess hesitated for a few minutes before making her decision. "Of
course, I want to take her. Taryn doesn't do well caged in. Oh, sorry.
I didn't mean to say it like that." Tess's face flushed with
embarrassment.
"Good. You can follow me and I will escort you to her." The doctor got
up and held the door open for the tall woman.
Tess finally arrived in Taryn's room. "You're here!" Taryn raced to
Tess and grabbed her. "I didn't think you would come." Taryn began to
cry.
"Oh honey, you know I wouldn't leave you here in the hospital. " Tess
tried to get her little sister to laugh. "We need to talk when we get
to the car. Why in the hell did you take all of your medicine in the
first place??" Tess took hold of Taryn's hand. There was no need for
an explanation, Tess already knew.
"Here you go Miss Styles." The petite nurse handed Tess the wooden
clipboard. "The doctor will be in to explain things further for the
both of you." The nurse walked out.
"I am scared Tess. I am really scared. Please do not be mad at me for
trying to overdose. I didn't mean to. I was just tired of living in
hell." Taryn began to cry again.
Tess gently held her little sister to her chest. "Taryn, it will be
ok. You must be quiet about trying to OD. We are still in the hospital
and they haven't officially released you yet. They think you
accidentally took too much of your medicine. So let them think that,
ok?" Tess squeezed her sister's hand tighter.
"Ok, I will. Just get me out of here." Taryn wiped away her tears.
The doctor gently knocked on the door. "Hi Taryn and Tess. Ready to go
now?" he smiled at the women. "You are all set now. Just be careful
next time when taking your medicine. You were very lucky this time."
Tess signed the paperwork and handed it back to the doctor. "Thank you
sir. You have been very helpful to us this evening. Get you jacket
girlfriend. I am starved." Tess smiled at her fragile sister.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
June 14, 2000
Silent Agony: Chapter 2
All rights reserved by Traci Poole. All original material.
The two girls walked out of the busy hospital and headed towards
Tess's car. Just throw your stuff in the backseat. Want to grab
something at Burger Boy?" Tess looked at Taryn with motherly eyes.
"I am not that hungry but I could use a Pepsi right now." Taryn
plopped down into the leather seats. "Sis, can we have a heart to
heart talk?" Tess began to object. "No. Wait before you say a word. I
know I have a lecture coming to me but you need to listen first." Tess
couldn't stand to see Taryn's blue eyes filled with tears. "I know
this is going to sound awful, but I want to die but yet, I don't want
to. It is so confusing. Almost like a voice within telling me to kill
myself. I cannot explain it." Taryn began to cry harder.
Tess reached for the tissues. She handed one to Taryn. "I know
sweetie. I know."
"No, you don't know. Remember when I ran all the way home from work?
There was something chasing me. I felt it. It was pure evil and hate.
I don't know what it was but I know it was there. I felt the breath on
my neck. I could feel it trying to tear my soul apart and claim it as
its own." Taryn grabbed the tissues and blew her nose. That's not all.
You know the sugar shanty?"
Tess listen as her sister spilled her guts. Tess knew that Taryn had
many problems and often came to her for advice. "Go on Taryn, I am
listening."
Taryn threw the used tissue down. "Well, under the bench near the pot
belly stove is a bench. Under the bench I found some earth that had
been moved. I began to kick the dirt around and my foot hit something.
I bent down and moved the dirt more. I saw what looked like a metal
box. I removed it and opened it. I found a string of pearls and an old
ring. The inscription had been worn but it had this insignia on it. I
was able to make out where it was made. It said Visel."
"That's in Germany." Tess said to Taryn.
"Yes, the birth place of our ancestry." Taryn continued.
As the sisters drove onto the dirt road of their home, they knew that
they had to find out where it all came from.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
June 14, 2000
Silent Agony: Chapter 3
All rights reserved by Traci Poole. Original Material.
It was nearing dark as Tess and Taryn finally reached the old
farmhouse. "I am tired." Taryn yawned. "Mind if I turn in?"
"No, go ahead and turn in. Want me to fix something for you? I have
left over soup I can warm up and I can fix you a sandwich to go with
it?" Tess looked deep into Taryn's eyes. They were full of fright.
"I will pass on the dinner. I just want some peace tonight." Taryn
hugged her sister goodnight and trudged up the stairs to her room.
Taryn knew that she wasn't alone. She could feel the evil eyes
following her as she undressed. Taryn went into the bathroom and
washed her face. Taryn went back into her bedroom and turned down the
sheets. She climbed into her bed and closed her eyes. Sleep came
quickly for the fragile woman. Visions of an old castle always seem to
loom in Taryn's nightmares. The nightmare began for Taryn. The
coldness of the nightmare made it seem all to real for her. Taryn's
pulse quickened as she neared the same street that appears in her
nightmares. Taryn paused to catch her breath. Suddenly, Taryn could
feel the evil try to envelop her mind and her soul. Taryn steps up her
pace even quicker. Taryn looked behind her but couldn't see anyone.
Filled with fright, Taryn runs faster and faster. She could feel the
evil closing in on her. As she stumbles to the ground, Taryn screams.
She wakes up from the horrid nightmare that repeats itself on a
nightly basis.
"Are you ok?" Tess runs to Taryn.
"No!! It was here! I felt it!" Taryn screamed.
"What?? What did you feel Taryn??" Tess tried to console the visibly
shaken woman.
"It was chasing me! I ran and ran but I couldn't run any faster! I
could feel it gaining ground!" Taryn was completely hysterical.
"Come on girl. We will sleep in the spare bedroom. " Tess got up from
the bed. "But first let's get some tea."
Taryn was still visibly shaken from the images that came to her in the
nightmare. She followed Tess to the kitchen. "I am so scared of these
nightmares." she said.
"Want to tell me about them?" Tess reached for the kettle and put it
onto the stove.
Taryn sat down at the table. "Promise you won't laugh?" Taryn searched
for an approval from her older sister.
"No, I am not going to laugh." Tess reassured her.
Taryn took a deep breath. "I am always being chased by something. I
don't know what. I can feel it gain on me and just as it reaches for
me, I fall. I don't know what it is but I know it is evil. It wants to
take the very breath that I breathe. I can feel something choking me
Tessie. I am so scared. I want to show you what I found. You know,
that strange box?"
Tess filled Taryn's cup up and sat down beside her. "I am sorry about
those dreams. We will check out that box. I want to know what it is
too."
"Do you think the family rumors have anything to do with it?" Taryn
slowly sipped the tea.
"I don't know kiddo. I don't know but I can promise I will get to the
bottom of it. I love you little sister and I want to put an end to
this." Tess looked at her sister. She could only think how vulnerable
Taryn really is. Tess knew that she had to protect Taryn, even if it
meant her very own life.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
June 14, 2000
Silent Agony: Chapter 4
All rights reserved by Traci Poole. All original material.
Coffee filled the tiny kitchen as Taryn made her way downstairs.
"Did you sleep better this time?" Tess poured Taryn a cup of coffee.
"I guess. I don't remember too much about last night after we went to
bed." Taryn rubbed the sleep from her eyes.
Tess sat down beside her sister. "I want to go up to the shanty. I
want to get to the bottom of this."
"I know, I do too." Taryn finished her coffee. She reached for her
shoes.
Tess and Taryn started to the tiny shanty. "Do you remember when we
were kids, we used to sled ride down this hill?" Taryn smiled for the
first time in a long time.
Tess laughed. "You bet I do. I couldn't stand it when you made me haul
your sled up this hill."
The two girls stood in front of the shanty. "Ready?" Tess looked at
her little sister. Taryn nodded in agreement. Tess slowly opened the
door. She stepped inside and looked around. "Nothing has changed in
here."
Taryn went to the bench that hid the tiny, mysterious box. She bent
down to unearth it once again. The air in the shanty began to get
cold. Taryn slowly opened the box.
Taryn's mood began to change. "I want justice." Taryn growled.
"What?" Tess looked puzzled.
"You did this to me and now you must pay." The voice came deep within
Taryn. The voice made an unholy sound. Taryn's eyes were filled with
hate and rage. She began pulling at her hair and screaming. "Tess,
please help. Please." It was Taryn's voice. Taryn dropped the box and
dashed out of the shanty.
Tess ran after her sister. She could feel the rage that came from
Taryn. It was unlike Taryn to be like this. "Taryn! Stop! Taryn!" Tess
called after her sister. She went back inside to retrieve the box and
the contents that tumbled out of it. Tess picks up the envelop. The
words Nadia Krause written in small letters. She places it back into
the box. Tess examines the pearls that still have their luster and
shine. As she picked up the baby's ring, a tiny cry echoed in the
shanty. Tess pushed the box under her arms and went in search of her
sister. Tess runs up the hill, still screaming for Taryn. "Taryn!
Where are you?" From the distance, a figure is laying down on the
ground. "Taryn!" Tess rushes to Taryn.
"Help me Tessie. Please help me." Taryn says as she is laying in a
fetal position.
"Can you stand up?" Tess tugs on her sister's arm. Taryn slowly stands
up and leans on Tess for support. The two women make their way back
down the hill to their house. "You are going to take a hot bath while
I am examining this stuff."
"I don't want to be there when you open the box Tessie. I am too
frightened. I don't know what came over me but it tore at my soul,
just as it did in my nightmare." Taryn's voice was filled with fear.
"Go up there and get that bath." Tess tried to add cheer to her voice.
Taryn followed her sister's advice.
Tess opened the box again. This time there was no coldness nor evil
present. She took out the tiny ring and examined it. The diamond still
sparkled. She placed it on her pinky finger. The string of pearls were
unlike anything she had seen before. Tess definitely wanted to have
them looked at by the antique dealer in town. She took the yellowed
envelope out of the box. Tess looked closely at the handwritten words.
"Nadia Krause. That name doesn't ring a bell." Tess said to herself.
"Tessie! I need your help!" Taryn hollered from upstairs.
"I am coming!" Tess hollered back. She gently replaced the ring,
pearls, and envelope. The boxed would be closed. For now.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
June 14, 2000
Silent Agony: Chapter 5
All rights reserved by Traci Poole. All original material.
Tess went upstairs to see what Taryn needed. "What's up?"
"I need some sedatives tonight." Taryn looked up at Tess with her soft
blue eyes.
"I don't blame you. We have had a rough day." Tess sighed. "I will get
them honey."
Taryn got out of the tub and went into her bedroom. She sat on the bed
and dried her long blonde hair. Tess entered the room, holding the
sedatives in her hand.
"Here. Take this." Tess handed Taryn the medicine.
"Three of them?" Taryn questioned Tess.
"Two are your regulars and the third is Tylenol." Tess reassured
Taryn.
Taryn took the medicine and climbed into her bed. "Leave the light on?
Please?"
"Sure. Whatever will help you get a good night's rest." Tess smiled
and kissed her little sister. "see you in the morning."
Tess went downstairs and sat back down on the couch. She pulled the
box out from under the couch. She carefully opened the box and looked
at the stuff in the box again. Tess picked up the envelope and opened
it. The envelope was empty. Tess placed the stuff back into the box.
"Hmm....I wonder who this Nadia woman is?" she whispered. Tess went to
the china cabinet and began rummaging through the drawers. "Where is
that photo album at?" Tess said as she moved the table cloths aside.
Suddenly, Tess felt the familiar leather cover of the photograph
album. Tess carefully looked at names and female faces but there
wasn't anyone out of the ordinary. She searched the drawer for more
pictures. Tess replaced the albums and stood up. She placed her hands
on her hips. "There has to be more." Tess looked around the room. She
slowly climbed the stairs to the attic. Tess peeked in on Taryn. "She
is such an angel." Tess went to the attic door. She pulled the string
down from the ceiling. The attic door slowly descended towards Tess.
She climbed up the rickety stairs and looked around. Finding the pull
string for the light, Tess turned it on. Resting in the back corner of
the attic, is the family trunk that has been around for ages. "Maybe
there will be something in there." she says to herself. Tess slowly
made her way to the trunk and knelt down in front of it. Tess lifted
the heavy trunk lid. "Wow! I thought this trunk was empty!" Tess said
outloud. She reached in and began moving its contents out of the way.
Tess pulled out more photographs of her family but all were familiar
to her. Tess pulled out dishes and goblets from the old dusty
traveling trunk. Hidden deep within the trunk, Tess feels a bottle.
"What is this? Wine? " Tess closely examined the bottle. "I can't read
this." Tess took the bottle to the light. A date, 1832, was neatly
etched into the glass of the bottle. "Visel, Germany? Interesting."
Tess looked closer at the bottle. Her family name,Styles, was neatly
etched in the glass bottle. She shook her head and wondered. Tess
placed the bottle next to the stairs of the attic. She continued to
search through her newly found treasures. A torn piece of paper
suddenly falls from her grasp. Tess picked it up and read it, "My
dearest Nadia, Time is short. I must....." "This is Great-great
grandfather Henry's handwriting!" Tess shouted. She began her search
even harder. She desperately began tossing items out of the trunk.
Tess shook all of the garments that were in the trunk. She looked in
the dishes and the goblets. Her search was fruitless. The other piece
of the note wasn't found. Tess piled the stuff back into the trunk and
closed the lid. As she fastened back the leather ties that bound the
trunk, she thought she heard a baby cry. Tess stood up and picked up
her things. She quietly tip-toed to the stairs and shut the light off.
As the glow from the bulb disappears, the smell of lavender fills the
attic.
skyfire
wrote:
>Did You Know...?
>by Traci Poole
>August 10, 2000
>
>
>
>Did you know...
>
>...ghosts cannot cross running water?
>
I thought it was vampires that couldn't cross streams. Well it is
something undead anyway, might be a ghost but I was so sure it was
vampires. Guess I've watched too much Buffy lately.
--
Skyfire AKA mark chamberlain
Website under repair
now due sometime 2001 (I hope)
skyfire
wrote:
>Ghost and Legend Collections II
>by Traci Poole
>July 12, 2000
>
>The Guardian of England
>
>In an old Shropshire legend, Wild Edric and his ghostly followers are
>said to warn England of an uprising war. It is said that they will
>always go to the warriors who are leading the attacks against England
>and strike or stop them from the invasion. One of the ghostly
>followers of Edric is said to be his wife, Lady Godda.
>
>An interesting footnote: During Edric's crusades agaisnt William the
>Conquerer, Erdic happened upon a wooded area in which he saw faeries.
>He fell in love with one of the faery women who consequently turned
>out to be Lady Godda or better known as the "Faery Wife of Wild
>Edric".
>
I haven't heard this story, but ISTR that there is a ghost that haunts
the British parliment (or civil service) at times of crisis. I think
it was the ghost of a senior politician perhaps even a prime minister.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
June 20, 2000
It was a cold, autumn night when I thought I saw my grandma. She had
passed on to a higher plane of life.
I could not sleep and laid in my bed, pondering the thought of her
being an angel. I was only 8 or 9 at the time of her passing. I didn't
get to say good bye to her. I can remember the tears flowing because
of my love for her and because she had died.
I looked out the window and noticed the moon was so bright. It was
like a large silver ball in the sky. The darkened sky was backdropped
against the moon and stars that were in the foreground. I smiled and
remembered how she had told me the story of the man in the moon. It
seemed to me that the man in the moon was in deed smiling on this
bright night. The moon did not cast any eery shadows but instead, its
bright light made the frost glisten on the grass. The harder I looked
out the window, the more I could see how the moon made objects have
halos. Again, the tears flowed.
I thought I had heard something so I turned around. I thought maybe it
was my little brother. Instead, I saw something that seemed to be
floating between my bed and the closet. It came closer to me. I
immediately recognized the floating thing as my grandma. She had her
arms extended and a very peaceful look on her face. The dress was
flowing and it was decorated with autumn colors. I do not remember her
exchanging conversation with me but I do remember crying out to her
how much I loved her and miss her. The smile still remained. It seemed
like she had stayed there for the longest time.
Somehow I knew that she was at rest and peace. That was the first and
last time she had visited me. Sometimes, I think today whether or not
I really saw her, or then maybe it was because I was a little girl who
deeply missed her grandma.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
June 21, 2000
It was a cool evening and almost dark as I walked up the lonely dirt
road. It had been many years since I'd done this I thought to myself.
I began thinking of all the childhood stories my grandparents would
tell us to keep us from straying to far from the house. The deeper my
thoughts grew, the faster my pace became. Behind me, I could feel the
eyes of the 'Hide Behinds' boring into my back. You know, when you're
all alone and you feel like something is watching you, only to turn
and look to find nothing. Those are the 'Hide Behinds'. They get
behind the trees or bushes so that they can see you but you can't see
them. I have always been afraid of them because I know they exist. I
could see the light on in the old farmhouse and couldn't seem to get
there fast enough. When I reached the door, I had to laugh at myself
but I was so glad to be there. Some childhood fears never go away,
even when you are forty-three.
As I stepped in the door, I could see the look in my father's eyes as
he could see the look in mine. He smiled and said," 'Hide Behinds'
after you girl?". He knew that I had been afraid. It had been a story
given to him and then passed on to all of us children. It was a scare
tactic to keep us all close to home and boy, did it work.
All of us are grown now and have passed this same story on down to all
of our children. It continues to have the same impact on them as it
did us. It has been passed down through the generations and I guess it
will continue to do so.
Remember as you are all alone and get this feeling, its the
'HIDE-BEHINDS'!
Duckie
by Traci Poole
June 25, 2000
Here is another ghost story that stems from the area in which I live
in. This section of Hamtpon, lies an old army base that is still in
use today. Ft. Monroe was founded by Captain John Smith. He named it
Old Point Comfort. He picked out this small piece of land because of
its locality. At Old Point Comfort, the colonists were able to see who
was entering the James River. As historians know, the colonists of
1607, were cautious and at a mini war with the Spaniards. Old Point
Comfort played a major role in the lookouts.
Old Point Comfort went through several names changes. It's final name
change came to be Ft. Monroe, named after the President, James Monroe.
Let's take a closer look at the many historical ghost sightings and
hauntings of this beautiful base. One would think that James Monroe
would haunt the base that was named after him but he doesn't. He is
said to haunt an old law office building in Fredericksburg, Virginia.
The Moat Monster
The interior of Ft. Monroe is housed a 'moat'. This moat protected the
heart of Ft. Monroe which houses the main living quarters of officers
and enlisted alike. It is like a tiny town encased in original stone
walls. The moat is said to contain a water monster. This monster is
said to be a relative of the Lochness Monster of the Scottish Isles.
This moat monster has been sighted but no one has been able to
determine what it really is. I do not know if there have been dives to
detect this mythical creature. Could this monster be a relative of
Nessie? Or could it be a sea monster? Or maybe it is really a large
sting ray or skate that became trapped in the moat during high tide?
Maybe it is just an over active imgination of old sea men and
soldiers. You decide.
Ft Monroe has had it share of famous hauntings. Such as President Abe
Lincoln, Jefferson Davis, Ulysses Grant, Chief Black Hawk, as well as
the young soldier named Edgar Allen Poe. There are also small famous
hauntings. One is of a woman in white, a child spirit, and a spirit
who hates roses.
Let's cover the famous hauntings first.
Abe Lincoln is said to haunt a room at one of the officers quarters.
His spirit has been seen mulling over major turning points of the war.
He can be seen sitting at a desk with a serious look on his face. I do
not know anymore of this haunting.
U.S. Grant is also said to be doing the samething as Lincoln did.
There little known information on this as with Chief Black Hawk, only
that their spirits have been sighted.
Now, Edgar Allen Poe was a young soldier stationed at Ft. Monroe. Here
it is said that one can see his spirit writing his stories at a desk.
Here, at Ft. Monroe, he wrote a famous story called, "The Cask of
Amontillado", which was based upon a ghost story of Virginia military
man who was walled up alive in the stones of an empty building. The
story mentioned above was based on a true story. Edgar Allen Poe's
original name was Edgar A. Perry and it was changed after he was
discharged from the military. There are many ghost stories that
surround Edgar Allen Poe. Some are in Virginia while others are in
Maryland.
Jefferson Davis, president of the Confederate has been said to haunt
the stone prisons of Ft. Monroe. He was captured and brought to the
tiny base. He was imprisoned in the tiny stone bases. Mr. Davis was
mistreated severely. Iron shackles placed upon his feet and he was
forced to live in unbearable conditions. A cold and damp cage. He was
given very little food and basically treated like an animal. Soldiers
would taunt him to the point where he charged after a soldier. He was
beaten and his wounds were left untreated. His wife, Varina had heard
of the mistreatment of her beloved husband. Varina packed up herself
and their daughter and left for Ft. Monroe. Upon arriving at the cell
that held the president, she dropped to her knees and cradled her
husband. Mrs. Davis called for the attending physician. The physician
came to the aid of the helpless president. Mr. Davis' injuries were so
severe that there was no hope for the ailing president. His wife
begged and pleaded with the commanding officer to let her husband be
placed in a healthier environment. Mr. Davis died. It is said that the
ghost of Jefferson Davis can be seen in this cell. His wife can also
be seen holding her husband's head in her lap. Maybe these spirits are
keeping vigil as a reminder to the present and the future generations
of what war brings.
Interesting footnote. One would think that Robert E. Lee would haunt
his stomping grounds at Ft. Monroe but none has been written nor has
he been seen.
The Woman in White
A famous area contained within the walls of Ft. Monroe is what they
have dubbed as "Ghost Alley." Here is the story of the famous Woman in
White ghost story begins. A beautiful woman had married a captain of
the military who was nearly twice her age. With her husband being away
most of the time, this woman befriended a captain that was closer to
her age. The couple became fast friends but soon their friendship was
much more than friends. The couple consumated their love for each
other. The husband came home only to find the lovers in bed together.
The husband became outraged and chased the man off. Still angry, the
husband murdered his wife. It is said that her spirit roams ghost
alley. Looking for her true love that she had lost on the fateful
night. Will she ever find him or will she be doomed to roam the
streets of Ghost Alley?
The Ghost Who Hates Roses
In another part of Ghost Alley, stands an officers' home. Past
occupants have stated how someone or something detests roses. If a
boquet of roses are placed anywhere in the home, the next morning,
rose petals are strewn all over the floor. There are no other signs of
this strange act and no one knows who is doing it. Perhaps a scorned
lover has decided the roses are a grim reminder of the love they had
lost and in a fit of rage, rips the petals off. Nothing like holding
onto the past and taking the anger out onto the living of the present.
The Child Spirit
A little child is said to haunt the basement of an enlisted
personnels' home. Ghostly laughter can be heard as well as misplaced
items such as toys. No one knows who the tiny child is and no one
knows what happened to this child. The past occupants have decided the
child is at least the age of a toddler or around the age of 5. For
some reason, the real children have taken more of a notice of this
child spirit. Maybe the child is lonely and only wishes to play with
the real children.
L.B.Taylor, Jr has compiled several books that deal with ghosts of
Virginia. I have read all of his books and I practically know each of
them by heart. He is one of my favorite authors when it comes to ghost
stories. I have met Mr. Taylor in person and he is a wonderful person.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
July 7, 2000
I met JoHanna when I left the Army in 1989. She and I were working as
partners at a department store in my other hometown. We did everything
together. Partied, drove around, went to movies, and just stayed close
as best friends. We are so close, we were actually born 2 days apart.
Jo's birthday is September 23, and mine is September 25.
Jo met a wonderful man. Mike was very good to Jo and they had plans of
getting married. Mike was an enlisted member of the Army Reserves but
he had talked about joining the active Army to support the family he
and Jo wanted. I moved to be closer to my father and step mother while
Jo continued her education at a community college in our hometown.
In the middle of the night, my phone rang, waking me from a deep
sleep. "Hello?" I said in a groggy tone.
"Traci? It's Jo. Did I wake you?" Jo was crying on the other end.
"No, it's ok. What's the matter?" I knew something was wrong. I sat up
and prepared myself for the worst. "Oh, before I go any further. Look
for your birthday card in the mail. I mailed it late. Happy birthday
Sweetie."
"It's Mike," Jo said to me.
"You guys broke up?" I felt better knowing that was probably why she
called me so late. Mike seemed to break up with her before holidays
and right on her birthday.
"No Traci. Mike was killed last night," she blurted out between sobs.
"He left my house. We had an argument and he stormed out of my house.
He was killed on the curve heading towards Mansfield."
I felt my heart drop and I could only listen as she cried on the other
end. "I am sorry Jo. I don't know what to say." I sat in silence and
held the phone close to my ear, waiting for her to finish telling me
what happened.
"I didn't find out until Mike's mom called me this morning and told me
what happened. The weirdest thing is that I received this phone call
last night, right after he was killed. I picked up the phone and
hollered hello but no one answered me back. It was nothing but static.
I bet it was Mike telling me he was killed," Jo sighed heavily into
the phone.
"Oh Jo, I am so sorry. Maybe it was Mike telling you what happened," I
tried to soothe her even though I was 2 states away from her. For the
first time in my life, I was at loss for words. I listened to her as
she had told me of their plans of getting married in December, Mike
re-enlisting into the Army, and all kinds of things. Finally, it came
time for me to hang up. I needed sleep and only had a few more hours
before I had to go to work. I told Jo I would call her in a few days.
I called her after the funeral and she seemed to be doing fine. Jo
didn't mention anymore strange phone calls in the wee hours of
morning. Several months had passed and Jo called me again. This time
she wanted to come and visit. I took my vacation a few weeks earlier
so we could catch up on old times. After Jo arrived, we sat up most of
the night talking and remensing about our times back home. All of a
sudden, Jo became very silent. She looked at me with her blue eyes and
the tears began to flow. Jo slowly began to speak. "I keep getting
those phone calls in the middle of the night. Mom thinks there is
something wrong with the phones, so she kept dragging the phone guys
out to fix the phones. As usual, there was nothing wrong. It is
starting to scare me, Traci. What do I do?" Jo asked me.
I sat there with a dumb look on my face because I had only read about
such things in books. "What did the person say?"
"Nothing. Absolutely nothing but pure static. I always hang up on
whoever it is," she said to me.
"I guess when it happens again and if it is Mike, tell him you forgive
him. Explain to him that his work is done on this plane of life. I
don't know Jo. It can't hurt." I tried my best to offer her advice.
The rest of our week together went wonderfully. We went to the beach,
and Busch Gardens. We had such a great time!
Jo left and went back home. A month later, Jo received another strange
call on her birthday and on the anniversary of Mike's death. Jo told
Mike he needed to pass on to the next world and she forgave him for
the argument.
See, Mike was killed in the early morning hours of JoHanna's birthday,
September 23. To my knowledge, there have been no more strange phone
calls from whoever had been calling Jo. There are tears every now and
then, but Jo is happily married now. We both think it was Mike, trying
desperately to tell Jo that he was sorry and he still loved her. All
he needed was her forgiveness and understanding.
Duckie
ribbon'. I hope you enjoy it as I enjoyed writing it.
Duckie
One Last Act of Kindness
by Traci Poole
August 4, 2000
Winner of the Writing Challenges Write Off
Sydney fumbled with the tiny yellow ribbon nestled in her dark locks.
She stood in front of the tiny house that held many memories of her as
a child. Sydney slowly turned the key of her childhood home and
immediately the memories of her mother came rushing forth. She crept
to the kitchen and sat down. A long and tender sigh escaped her
quivering lips. Sydney could still smell the aromas of pies baking in
the oven. She looked around, hoping to catch a glimpse of her past but
instead the sounds of emptiness invaded her memories. The memories of
her childhood crashed upon her deafened ears. Sydney longed to hear
the laughter of her mother again.
Sydney steadily stood up and walked back to the living room. Family
pictures stood neatly on the fireplace mantel, awards hung neatly on
the old painted walls, and the dried bouquet of roses had begun to
collect dust. She crept down the empty hallway and opened the door of
her mother's bedroom. The bed still neatly made and the curtains drawn
back in an orderly fashion. The vanity mirror beckoned to the tired
woman as it had done in her childhood past. Sydney sat down and
studied the reflection in the mirror. She saw her mother's reflection.
The familiar hands gently combed out the tangled curls from her hair.
Sydney could feel the tender tugs from her mother. She felt her
mother's hands releasing the curls from the tangled yellow ribbon.
Tears began their trek down her lovely face, plunging softly to the
wooden table of the vanity. Sydney grabbed a kleenex and blew her
nose. Her mother's cologne still lingered on the tissues. She sniffed
again.
The visibly, tired woman lifted herself from the vanity and gradually
walked back to the living room. She took one last glance before
heading to the funeral home for the final visit with her mother.
She knew today would be the hardest. Sydney followed the usher as he
took her to where her mother was. She inched her way to the casket.
Her mother's angelic face seemed to be a peace now. She wasn't in
anymore pain. Sydney reached deep into her purse and brought out the
hair brush. She took her mother's auburn locks into her hands and
brushed them out gently; caressing each one. Sydney took the little
yellow ribbon from her own raven hair, and neatly tied it into her
mother's hair.
It was the last act of a daughter's love Sydney could give her mother.
Her mother would forever wear the tiny yellow ribbon just as the
memories of Sydney's mother tying the same yellow ribbon into Sydney's
hair would remain, forever frozen in time.
Duckie
by Traci Poole
October 2, 2000
Molly woke to the loud blaring noise of the alarm clock. She tried to
shut the alarm off but instead the clock crashed to the floor, leaving
it to continue to its ringing. The teenager hastily jumped into the
shower, letting the cool water wake her senses. She stood there under
the fountain of water, thinking of this very day. Thirteen years ago,
her mother and twin sister were killed in a freak accident. The car
her mother had been driving, lost control and hit the concrete medium
on the shoulder of the road. Molly shuddered as she remembered the
screams. Her mother had unstrapped Molly from the car seat and moved
her to the grassy knoll. Molly's mother ran back to the minivan to
rescue her twin sister, Holly. Molly remembered the blood that covered
her mother's face and the screams of her little sister. Her mother
managed to rescue her sister. As the injured woman brought out the
preschooler from the accident, she was hit again. This time, there was
no movement from her mother or her little sister. Molly could only
watched as the horror unfolded before her. Molly shuddered as she
remembered the accident. Tears formed in her eyes and as they trickled
down her face, mixing in with the shower water. The teenager jumped
out of the water and raced to get dressed. She carelessly placed her
wet hair into a ponytail and walked down the creaky stairs of her
home.
"Molly, I cannot make it to the cemetery today. There is an all day
meeting and I cannot break away from it. Can you pick up the flowers
from the florist by yourself?" Her father poured his daughter a cup of
coffee.
Molly sat down at the old table. "Yes, I can go. I am skipping school
today."
Her father gave her a displeasing look. "Got all your school work
caught up? How many days have you missed?"
"Oh Dad. You know I am a good student," laughed Molly.
Her father strolled over to his daughter and planted a kiss on his
daughter. Her blonde hair and green eyes reminded him so much of his
lovely wife. "Ok. Just this once." He glanced at the sunflower clock
on the kitchen wall. "I've got to get going. The meeting starts at 8
am sharp," he said as he gulped down the rest of his coffee.
Molly watched as her father walked out of the back door. She finished
up her coffee and placed her cup in the sink. The pictures of her
little sister and mother hung on the livingroom walls. She slowly
crept to their picture and lovingly touched it. It was as if the
picture spoke. The young woman fixed the lopsided pictures. She looked
at the grandfather clock as it struck on the hour. She grabbed her
sweater and the car keys. It was time to go.
Molly drove past the scene of the accident. Only grass and wild
flowers took the place of the concrete medium. A horrid reminder only
covered by the daffodils and the daisies. She closed her eyes tightly
as she did every time she went past the accident.
The pink neon sign stood out like a sore thumb as Molly pulled into
the parking lot. She sighed as she shut the engine off. It seemed like
hours as she just sat there in silence. The owner of the flower shop
waved to Molly. The young woman smiled back.
"Good Morning Molly. Your red roses and pink roses are ready," smiled
the graying woman.
Molly reached into her purse and handed the lady the money. "Can I get
a small wreath of baby's breath?"
"Yes. I started making a wreath for a wedding but I can always make a
new one." The woman placed the wreath with Molly's order.
"Thank you Mrs. Jenkins," said Molly as she handed the woman the
money. She took her tiny bundle and walked out the shop. The door bell
made an unusual loud noise as the door closed.
Molly knew the way to the cemetery well. She often visited her mother
and sister but today was special for some reason. She drove where her
mother and sister were peacefully resting. The baby angel monument
stood quietly beckoned to Molly. She knelt down on her knees and
blindly wiped away the tears. She touched the names of her mother and
sister.
From the corner of the tree, tiny like diamonds began to form. Molly
didn't see them. "Mommy, why is she crying?" the tiny voice said.
"She is crying because she is sad," the woman's voice whispered.
The child's voice spoke again. "Who is that?"
"She is your sister, my little angel."
"My sister?" asked the child. "I don't understand."
"It is a long story my love," sighed the woman spirit.
"Can I give her a hug? She looks so sad," the tiny spirit said.
"Yes, but you must be careful. The land of the living mustn't know we
exist."
The young woman took the baby's breath wreath and lovingly placed it
onto the angel's head. "A halo just for you Holly. I love you Mom. I
miss both of you terribly."
The tiny child spirit moved to where Molly sat. The tiny child moved
around Molly. The breeze stood still as the tiny child embraced
Molly's back.
Molly jumped. She looked around her. "Stop Molly. You are going to
give yourself gray hair," whispered Molly. She placed the roses onto
the headstones. Molly stood back up and looked around her. She felt
the embrace. It was not in her mind. Molly slowly walked back to the
car. As she turned around to see the flowers, a child's tiny laughter
rang through her ears. Molly wiped away the tears again and smiled.
"Mommy, do you think she felt my hug?" questioned the little girl.
"Yes, Holly. See her smiling?" answered the ghostly woman.
"I love you Sissy!" said the tiny child.
"I love you too," whispered Molly.
James Whyley
news:39e23c79...@news.ntlworld.com...
> On Sun, 08 Oct 2000 21:39:35 -0400, Duckie <jmstw...@earthlink.net>
> wrote:
>
> >Did You Know...?
> >by Traci Poole
> >August 10, 2000
> >
> >
> >
> >Did you know...
> >
>
> >...ghosts cannot cross running water?
> >
> I thought it was vampires that couldn't cross streams. Well it is
> something undead anyway, might be a ghost but I was so sure it was
> vampires. Guess I've watched too much Buffy lately.
I was thinking about this one, a lot of phantom coaches cross bridges and
the like.
James