Westminster Burying Grounds

Westminster Hall & Burying Ground
image from Welcome to Baltimore
The Westminster Presbyterian Western Burial Ground, located in Baltimore, Maryland on Fayette and Greene Streets, was purchased in 1786 (it had been part of John Howard's peach orchard), and became the final resting place for the elite of the region.

A church was built directly atop the burial grounds in 1852. The web history has it that a local law required cemeteries in the city proper to physically connect with an adjoining church, but it actually was raised to provide a growing western Baltimore population with a place to worship.

property being tight, the structure was plopped in the middle of the boneyard, straddling gravestones and burial vaults to create a hybrid catacomb system between its supporting arches and under its floor.

But the church membership crested and by the 1920's, the flock eventually moved away into the 'burbs, leaving the historic graveyard deserted, in disrepair and vandalized for decades.

In 1970, the U of Maryland got hold of the land, and in 1981, the Westminster Preservation Trust began to manage the property and are in the ongoing process of restoring it. Thanks to their work, the church (now Westminster Hall) and cemetery are again open to the public from dawn to dusk.

The graveyard now holds the plots of deceased plain folk, assorted hoi-polloi, eight congressmen, five mayors, Revolutionary War and War of 1812 veterans, a small army of generals, and local celebs like Edgar Allen Poe, all who found Westminster to be their last stop.

And not very many of them seem to resting in peace.

Cemetery visitors have reported hearing bodiless voices, footsteps and screams, feeling the grip of invisible icy hands, sniffing inexplicable stenches and encountering cold spots.

There are numerous alleged sightings of spirits and dark misty figures roaming the grounds, often looking more lost than the living. Ghost hunters have captured EVPs and photos of the dearly departed in orb/shadow form. And that's just the tip of the iceberg.

One suspected cause of the eeriness is the church itself. Because it was thrown up in the middle of the graveyard (it's said that the cemetery's brick paths were used as a foundation), there are some tombs that are now inaccessible to visitors. And boy, there's nothing more cranky (or noisy) than a lonesome, forgotten spook.

Another is the movement of graves during the building of the church. A whole section of Revolutionary War soldiers thought lost was later discovered under one of the walkways, and other bodies were likewise shuffled around or just plain lost.

God only knows how many plots were covered or moved because of the church; it was said that kids could be seen playing with skulls in the graveyard.

Davidge Hall provided another source of potential spookiness. It is the oldest medical school building in the US, dating back a couple of centuries, and was where bodies were dissected by the students. It was also built on property carved from John Howard's farm, so guess where the cadavers came from?

Digging up bodies for anatomical studies became commonplace. The midnight raids, though, so upset the locals that they once hung a student grave-robber that they had caught in the ghoulish act. Vandals and thieves were also a constant problem. They left the bodies intact, but stripped off anything of value, like jewelry.

Add to that macabre mix tales of people buried alive, although for what reason we never did discover, and you have a perfect storm for spooks. Neglected, abused, dissected, relocated, built over, lost...it's no wonder there are so many reports of Westminster apparitions.

There are several haunts that are renowned at Westminster. One is the "screaming skull of Cambridge" of a long-ago murdered minister.

It's said to screech 24/7 - and the lore is that when they planted the clergyman, they gagged his skull's yap and covered it in cement in an effort to shut him up. It usually works, but woe to anyone that hears the scream; it's supposed to drive you insane.

Another often-sighted spirit is that of a nameless, elderly, white-haired spirit, seen walking slowly between the rows of tombstones as if in search of a particular marker.

There's also lore of an insane woman's ghost haunting the catacombs. She was considered so raving mad that she was buried in her strait jacket. Her crazed laughter is supposed to echo through the catacombs, and her presence has reportedly followed folk through the graveyard.

And don't disrespect a grave; the shadow of an old groundskeeper may show up and start chasing you with a shovel. The ghost is said to act as if he's under the influence, as he was most of his time on earth, and will swear up a storm while shooing you out of his cemetery.

The second-most famous spirit is that of 16 year old Lucia Watson Taylor, who died back in 1816. She's been seen many times kneeling by her own grave and praying, a long haired lass dressed in a loose white dress.

But the main man at Westminster is America's Master of the Macabre, Edgar Allan Poe. EAP died on October 7, 1849 on the sidewalks of Baltimore, and was buried in Westminster Church Cemetery.

He only died once, but he has two graves at Westminster. His original marker is near the back of the cemetery and is a headstone with an engraved raven. He actually went quite a while without a stone; his memorial was shattered in a train accident on the way to Baltimore.

The second is a monument added in 1875 after Western Female HS teacher Sarah Sigourney Rice and Baltimore school children waged a "Pennies for Poe" campaign to build a proper memorial. It's where he's actually buried now.

In commemoration of their success (George Childs actually covered half the cost, but hey...), it's a tradition for visitors to leave a penny at his grave site even today.

Everyone knows the story of Poe's birthday visitor, and he's not a spook. But did you know that Poe himself makes the rounds at Westminster every so often?

He's been seen in the grave yard, mostly around his birthday but also at other times throughout the year. Poe is reported to be dressed in black, wearing a waistcoat, broad brimmed fedora, and a scarf covering his face.

Edgar Allen carries a walking cane topped with a silver cat's head, and has even talked to some of the people who have seen him. Poe's also been reported in the catacombs.

Hey, Westminster Burying Grounds is beaucoup popular. Beside ghost and Halloween tours, it's been featured on "Sightings - The Ghost Report," and episodes of "Creepy Canada" and "Scariest Places on Earth."

And you can't beat the price of a visit - it's free, except for the penny you have to leave for Edgar Allen Poe.

Piney Bottom's Headless Hitch Hiker

from Scary Halloween Costumes
Piney Bottom is near Harts, in Lincoln county, West Virginia, a little south of Huntington and located at the mouth of Big Harts Creek.

According to Wikipedia, the town was named for Stephen Hart (Heart), an Indian fighter and early settler who lived at the mouth of the creek. Originally, the town was named "Heart's Creek," then later "Hart" and more recently "Harts."

The Big Harts Creek runs along the Guyandotte River; there's also Little Harts Creek nearby and at least one sizable offshoot, the West Fork. The quiet hollow these streams flow through is known locally as Piney Bottom. And it's home to one of the state's eerier legends.

In the 1800s, there were several sightings of a headless man dressed in black walking the area, especially by the first creek flowing through the bottoms. Another version claims that a ghostly carriage manned by the headless ghost would give people rides.

H&H tends to discount that tale; you have to be awfully tired of traveling via the shoe leather express to jump aboard a spook wagon being driven by a headless apparition.

While a scary sight, the headless dude was harmless. But there's a more chilling second act to the lore.

Folk riding their horses through the hollow reported that a headless black beast, part man, part critter, would jump on the back of their steed to hitch a ride. The monstrosity would wrap its arms around the rider in a death grip (what else?), scaring him and the poor horse witless, hanging on from the first creek to the ford of the next stream.

Now no one knows who or what the creature is, although some suspect that it's just another form of the ghost in black - after all, it's headless, and hops aboard at the same spot that the spirit man haunts. But that link has never been proven.

And it probably never will. With the advent of the auto, the ghost in black reports have dwindled to nothing; maybe cars scare him. But if you're curious, strap a saddle on a horse and take a slow trot through Piney Bottom. Let H&H know how the ride went.

The story is told in "Haunted West Virginia: Ghosts & Strange Phenomena of the Mountain State" by Patty A. Wilson, a noted regional paranormal writer.

Oak Hill Cottage

Oak Hill Cottage from Mansfield Tourism
Oak Hill was built by John Robinson in 1847 on a hill overlooking the town of Mansfield, Ohio, close by the railroad he had helped to build. Robinson and his family lived at Oak Hill until 1861, and five of his twelve children were born there.

Dr. Johannes Aten Jones bought the Gothic Revival home in 1864 at the urging of his bride, Frances. Author Louis Bromfield played at Oak Hill Cottage as a child and wrote about the house in his 1924 novel "The Green Bay Tree," calling it "Shane’s Castle."

The property was divided and sold in 1923 after the eldest Jones daughter, Ida, died. Leile, another of the Jones' daughters, moved back into the house in 1947, and sold the cottage and its contents to the Richland County Historical Society in 1965.

Now it's a museum, open for tours and sightseeing - and there are more things in Oak Hill Cottage than meet the eye.

First, there are the usual sensory phenomena. Visitors claim to feel a stifling presence of someone watching them, some even suffering panic attacks, and other oddities, such as the lights on the chandelier flickering on and off. And that's just the starting point.

One ghost reported is that of an elderly female, wearing period clothing, most often seen on the main stairway. If you spot her, never fear - she's said to be friendly and seems happy to see visitors admiring her home; she may even welcome you. It's supposed that she's Frances Jones, who truly loved the cottage.

She's also been seen fluffing the pillows and dusting in the cottage rooms, still a neat housekeeper after all these years (some say it's an old maid still doing her duty, but we prefer to agree with those who think it's Frances, keeping her pride and joy homestead up to snuff).

Other spooks are more site specific.

A back stairway leads a small landing, one which is reportedly frequented by the spirit of a young boy dressed in white stockings and knee pants. He's thought to be the shadow of one of the Robinson's sons who died in the home and spent his days playing on the landing.

In the basement, the apparition of an old man haunts the furnace area, and he has a bad vibe. No one can quite identify him, but it's no wonder he's ornery, being stuck in the cellar for all eternity.

Stop in if you get the chance. The house has a great history, and you may get to take in more than the furniture and art. You may be lucky enough to meet an old inhabitant or two.

U at Albany Haunts

University at Albany - Normal College Days
Hey, when your looking for ghosties, colleges are always a good place to start. Most have a long history and a tradition of both long-time employees who can't seem to leave their schools and students who have met a messy end. New York's University at Albany is no exception.

It dates back to 1844, and since has grown to a major research center with 18,000 students scattered over several city campuses, with a tradition of gently spooked buildings. Its alleged haunts include:

-- The Humanities Building mostly reports, via the evening work staff, eerie night noises - things dropping to the floor, slamming doors, bodiless footsteps and other assorted sounds. There are also unsubstantiated reports of a ghostly nun sighted in the hall.

-- Mahican Hall (located at the Indian Quad, how appropriate!) is said to be spooked by the apparition of girl that walks the corridors late at night. She's a relatively recent addition to Albany's lore, first being reported in the mid-nineties.

-- The Performing Arts Center features the shadow of an electrician who died in the building when some wires he was working on shorted. He's more of a presence than actual spook, and his sense has been reported by actors, especially during rehearsals.

-- Pierce Hall, part of downtown Albany's Alumni Quad, was built in 1935 as a women's dorm and basically unchanged since then, also hosts a specter girl that endlessly paces the building.

The U may not exactly be a hotbed of howling ghouls, but hey - get off campus and take a trip through Albany; you'll find a who's who of spookdom in the state capitol.

The Education Building sports the spirit of a workman who was buried alive in concrete in the basement, called the Dungeon; Sage College's Fine Arts Building is home to a collection of specters; and the Capitol Building tour includes the ghost of a custodian who died in a fire; there are several other tales of the unexplained floating all around the town.

Detractors may mockingly call the upstate city smAlbany (everyplace can't be the Big Apple), but it's big-time when it comes to spooky lore.

Cycles And Spooks...

Ron Kirkpatrick Customs
Hey, H&H is used to presenting spooky lore to his readers; this week, he's going to turn the tables and let a reader present his eerie story to the fans.

Ron Kirkpatrick of East Brady is a talented and hard-working customizer; he operates his own shop, Ron Kirkpatrick Customs, on 3rd Street. His company specializes in bike work and does vehicle customizing, too. He wrote H&H and related this tale:

His shop was originally built in 1927 as a Quaker State station. The previous owner sold the shop to Kirkpatrick after he had a ghost sighting and refused to ever set foot in the building again. Despite the tale, Ron plunked down the cash and set up business.

Kirkpatrick poked into the history of the structure a bit, and found out that a pair of people had died there, including the original owner, because of work-related accidents. That in itself isn't all that unusual, considering the shop dates back to the Roaring Twenties.

But the old owner's tale picked up some credence when Kirkpatrick's security system taped pictures of orbs on a daily basis and suffered from unexplained electrical glitches, one of the trademarks of visitors from the other side.

Adding another log to the fire were the reports from his staff, who claimed to witness two misty old men in the garage and "seeing other stuff flying around."

Intrigued, he had a local ghost-hunting crew investigate the place. They captured an EVP of a voice that said their names before their equipment malfunctioned.

Do the spirits of two men who left home for work and never returned now consider the shop their new home? Well, Kirkpatrick will leave it up to you; he has an open invitation for the curious to stop by his place, at 504 3rd Street on Route 68, to see for themselves.

Better yet, bring your ride. The shop spooks will keep you entertained while Kirkpatrick turns your wheels into a work of street art (flames or haunted theme, your choice).

Ron sent us pictures taken by his security cam; here's one orb shot: