Old Overholt Spirits

Image from Karens Barnches

 
"West Overton is the only pre-Civil War village still intact in the state. The exhibits explain the history of the family who first settled here and the thriving industrial complex it grew to be. Tours include the largest brick barn in Pennsylvania and the birthplace of Henry Clay Frick," per the state historic plaque that honors the distillery grounds, now home to a museum and some buildings amidst the historic district.

Around 1810, Abraham Overholt and his brother Christian began to distill whiskey at their family's farm in Westmoreland county. It started from a few barrels of hootch to a big business; the West Newton plant was expanded a couple of times to increase production, and was one of the first to go vertical, with its own supply of grain and lumber with grist and saw mills to make everything on site.

Abraham bought his brother out and went into business with two of his sons, Jacob and Henry.

In 1846, Abraham Overholt hired John W. Frick, a Swiss immigrant, to work in the grist mill located in the village. While working, he met Abraham’s daughter, Elizabeth, and they were married in 1847. On December 19th, 1849, their son, Henry Clay Frick, was born in the springhouse; maybe he picked up the his future business model from his thrifty and hard-driving grandpap. Frick eventually ended up owning the area coal fields, coke ovens, and the distillery, while his family set up the museum...but we digress.

In 1854, Jacob teamed up with his cousin Henry O. Overholt to open a new distillery in Broad Ford, near Connellsville. This, by the way, is where the famed rye whiskey known as Old Overholt was made (West Newton distilled "Old Farm"). It was said to be Abraham Lincoln's favorite whiskey, only taken, of course, in medicinal doses by Abe. (The Broad Ford distillery, abandoned for years, burned down in 2004.)

OK, if you all haven't headed to the nearest tavern for a quick snort, here come the ghost stories.

According to local lore, Jacob and his dad had an altercation over business and money while at West Newton; Abraham was said to be famously tight-fisted. During the fight, the father allegedly killed the son in the heat of the moment. Now we can't verify the legend; the best cause of death we've found in researching Jacob is that he succumbed to his "last illness." Don't we all? But the legend is a better tale, and we'll stick to that.

Anyway, following Jacob's 1859 death, Abraham inherited Jacob's 2/3 share of the Broad Ford distillery and added it to his operation. Soon afterward, workers reported seeing a figure who resembled Jacob watching over them, along with other unexplained phenomena. Two fires at the distillery, in 1884 and another in 1905, were claimed by some to be Jacob's revenge. Jacob Overholt is still said to been seen haunting the distillery.

But the star spook here is Clyde, the last Overholt to live in the ancestral house. He committed suicide by shotgun in his bedroom in 1919 after his older brother ended up with the Overholt estate following the death of their father. People have said over the years that they've heard noises in the attic and people running up and down the steps when they're the only ones in the house, along with other otherworldy mischief blamed on Clyde.

He's not entirely at fault for the spookiness, though. Tales claim that one Overholt hung himself on the property, and another died in a room now used as a storage area, with reports of his face peeking out of the room's window. There are also tales of a rude ghost that's found by the springhouse who reportedly asked an investigator "Why are you in my house?" There are also stories of floating objects and things disappearing from one place only to be found in another.

The ghosts and the legends are chronicled in the book "Weird West Overton" by Mary Ann Mogus and Ed & Brendan Keleman.

Looking for a day trip with a little history? Not only are their ghostly remnants of the old Overholt days, but the museum also features the rough-and-tumble steel making age of Henry Clay Frick. Frick? Hmmm, about that rude ghost by the springhouse...?

Charlie Schwab

 Charles Schwab from PA Libraries

Charlie Schwab was a lot of things in his lifetime. He was a business tycoon that ran Bethlehem Steel, philanthropist, the force who forged the city of Bethlehem out of four municipalities, theater lover, business wheeler and dealer, union buster, gambler, womanizer and ultimately a rich guy who died broke when the stock market crashed in 1929.

But it's his afterlife that interests us. He's known as "Schwaboo the Ghost" at Penn State and left behind a legacy of haunted houses. He's kind of an oddity in that he was was associated with several haunts during his lifetime, but has chosen not to spend eternity in them.

Maybe the everyday dead people they host are too low brow for a member of the gilded gentry to join with, but it's much more likely that he just didn't have much attachment to the rooms when he was alive. But he sure had a nose for places the otherworlders liked.

The most famous of the buildings is the Hotel Bethlehem. Schwab built it in 1920 so his business clients had a first class hangout when they came a'calling.  It was erected on the demolished bones of the Eagle Hotel, and that inn is the root of its spookery.

The Bethlehem is storied to be home to all sorts of paranormal phenomena, from poltergeist annoyances to mists and apparitions. Some spirits are seen regularly, and three are known by name. One is May Yohe, a stage actress who once lived at the Eagle. People have heard her singing and playing the piano while her specter has been reported in the exercise room on the third floor and in the lobby.

Another is Mrs. Brong, an Eagle innkeeper who was noted for going barefoot. Staff and guests have seen her ghost in the restaurant and kitchen, dressed in 1800's attire but sans shoes and stockings, giving her away. Finally, there's Daddy Thomas, an unofficial city welcome wagon type during his life, who resides in the boiler room.

Some as of yet unidentified spirits have been seen, too. They are a lady who is often spotted in the dining room/kitchen area, children playing throughout the hotel and another child on the mezzanine.

And if it's open, don't miss a chance to book Room 932, publicized by the Bethlehem as the "Room with a Boo." A man has been reported popping in on guests occasionally, and EVPs recorded the voice of a spirit named Mary. Paranormal phenomena is commonplace; we particularly like the wallpaper changing color.

Another of his haunted addresses was 114 W Fourth Street in Bethlehem. It was his in-laws' home, and Charlie and his wife Emma stayed there while waiting for their new house to be readied. Later, it was the the residence of Schwab protégé Eugene Gifford Grace, who became president and chairman of Bethlehem Steel.

It's the following act that's the likely source of the spooks, though - Cantelmi’s Funeral Home. No one spoke of spooks there; it was an occupational hazard, so why complain?

But the business that followed, Anna Mia's Restaurant (don't look for; it's been shuttered for over a decade) bore the brunt. The guests and staff heard unexplained music, footsteps, voices and found objects moving from place to place. As for spirits, well, that's up in the air. The owners were said to be fond of their friendly ghost, though others said there were no actual apparitions at the place.

A Moravian College student and her bud investigated rumors of Schwab's haunted barn on his former Bethlehem property after hearing old wives tales concerning its spookiness. They entered the gray, falling-apart shed, and the first thing they noticed was that no sound from the outside penetrated the barn, even though the doors were wide open - and they were as big as, well, barn doors.

Then they felt a cold spot. That was followed by raspy voices warning them to “Get Out” over and over, and they heeded the advice. Whether there's a rational explanation or not we'll never know; the rickety structure has since been demolished.

Ah, but there is one place that the specter of Charlie Schwab is thought to visit. That would be Schwab Auditorium at Penn State, built through a $155,000 donation by the stage-loving Scwab and his wife. It was the first PSU building financed by a private donor, and is still used by the Center for the Performing Arts for chamber music.

Now he wouldn't be the only ghost there; George Atherton, a college president buried outside the auditorium, is reported to be an ethereal visitor, along with a variety of mists and apparitions.

Schwaboo the Ghost's claim to fame: Performers have witnessed a seat in the auditorium go down as if someone were sitting on it, and then later rise, as if the invisible person got up and left. People believe that the unseen patron is Charlie, who loved theater. No report on he he feels now that it's a musical center.

So old Charlie may not be earthbound any longer, but he sure has left a trail of haunts behind him - his hotel, his temporary crib, the barn on his estate, and a college auditorium that we know of. Too bad he wasn't a medium back in the day. Charlie Schwab would have attracted the spirit world like a flower does bees.

Burlington County Prison Museum

The Burlington Prison Dungeon from the Burlington Prison Museum

Mount Holly Township is home to 9,500 souls, the county seat of Burlington County, New Jersey, and an eastern suburb of Philadelphia. It's also noted as one of the more actively haunted spots in the east, which makes sense as they trace their municipal roots back to 1688. If you want confirmation of that spooky factoid, just take a trip to 128 High Street and visit the Burlington County Prison Museum.

Built in 1811, following the design of the young and then unknown architect Robert Mills, the prison functioned from 1811 to 1965, making it the oldest continually operating lockup in America at the time of its closing. The smallish stone building (it held 100 prisoners in its heyday) not only looked foreboding, but also looked like a textbook haunted English manse. And its reputation has lived up to its looks.

Workman renovating the prison in 1999 for its conversion to the museum were the first to note some eerie going-ons. Their tools would disappear, to be found later behind prison doors that hadn't been opened in decades. They could hear footsteps where no one was at, and ghostly voices and moans added to the cacophony. Glimpses of shadow figures flashed by, caught just in the corner of their eyes. It got to the point where the work gang would leave the job site in a group; no one wanted to be left alone in the old jailhouse.

So whatcha gonna do? Well, what everybody does in those circumstances (at least in this blog) - they called in the paranormal investigators to get to the bottom of the situation. The ghost hunters poked and probed with their electronica, and came up with EVPs, orbs and mists, apparition sightings, temperature spikes and drops, and all sorts of anomalies. One set of investigators were followed by the scent of a burning cigarette that tailed them through the womens wing. The paranormal community confirmed what the workmen already knew - the prison was spook central.

Staff and visitors reported like phenomena (especially in the gallows and solitary confinement areas), and more - the senses of presence and depression, objects that move themselves, electronic malfunctions, moans and screams, but especially sightings. Shadow figures were reported from the first floor of the prison. There are tales of a spirit in the shower area who was kind enough to leave a footprint in the dust once. Others have claimed to see a legless ghost glide from the main gate toward the prison yard.

The basement is a hot spot; twice prison employees were killed near there by inmates during break-out tries. One cellar spook is thought to be that of murdered prison guard William Harry King, who has been reported roaming the lower level hallways of the prison.

But the star of the show is the otherwordly Joel Clough, who was sentenced to hang in 1833 for the brutal stabbing murder of a lover who had jilted him, convicted by a jury that didn't buy his insanity defense. He tried to escape - not much to lose, hey? - and for his efforts was tossed in the dungeon, a solitary cell with an iron ring in the middle that he was chained to while stark naked 24/7. Clough eventually had his neck stretched at a crossroads a few miles outside the jail in front of a large crowd, and was buried in the prison yard in an unmarked grave, the spot now marked by a tree.

Since his hanging, prisoners, guards, staff and regular folk have allegedly seen items in the room levitate, heard his moaning and rattling chains, and seen his apparition sitting in his cell. Security motion detectors keep going off there, even when the area is empty. Paranormal teams have all confirmed an active presence in and around the dungeon, so it looks like Joel Clough has claimed Burlington prison as his home for the afterlife.

The prison lore was featured in an episode of the SyFy Channel's "Ghost Hunters." It's included in Jeff Belanger's "Encyclopedia of Haunted Places." And if you want to catch it up close and personal, no prob. The museum (a National Historic Landmark) is open Thursdays-Sundays. If you're in the neighborhood during trick-or-treat season, they offer a "Haunt of the Prison" tour weekend evenings in October with a tricked-out Halloween prison yard.

See if you can tell the local actors from the local apparitions.

Back To Normal

Sorry, guys, the blog was hijacked earlier this week and it took ol' H&H a couple of days to root out the offending code. But we're back to normal, and we're sorry for the redirect.

The Deacon

The Depreciation Land Museum from Find A Grave

Photograph by David Briggs

In 1783, the Commonwealth set aside 720,000 acres of land in western Pennsylvania to compensate its Revolutionary War soldiers for their service. Since the dollar had depreciated drastically enough during the war to become virtually worthless, the land was offered in lieu of their pay. The area became known as The Depreciation Lands, and included all of the North Hills of Pittsburgh, along with parts of Butler, Beaver, Lawrence and Armstrong Counties. And a bit of it still exists today.

At the Depreciation Lands Museum, located on 4743 Pioneer Road off Route 8 in Hampton, you can visit the museum, housed in what was once the red brick Pine Creek Covenanter Church, built in 1837, along side its tree lined cemetery.

The grounds include a replicated one-room schoolhouse circa 1885, complete with a school bell, the Armstrong's log cabin that was built in 1803, a wagon house with a Conestoga and one horse sleigh parked inside, a working blacksmith's shop, outside baking hearths, a meeting hall and an old-timey herb garden. The staff even turns the museum into the "Talley Cavey Tavern" for grog and victual funders.

Oh, the Deacon is still there, too.

He was first noticed in 1973, when the deserted church was being fixed up after Hampton Township bought the property (It's operated by the Depreciation Lands Museum Association, a non-profit group). Workers said they saw a tall old man dressed in a long black coat, trousers and boots, the epitome of an eighteenth century preacher. He was seen often enough that they decided to give him a name, and the Deacon was christened.

Hard to tell if he's a jolly old soul, since he's never spoken. But unlike many spirits in renovated buildings, the Deacon seems pleased that folk are back in his church and polishing it up, even if it's for sightseeing, not soul saving. He's especially fond of the workers.

His first good deed was helping a volunteer who was replacing a window. She was having a tough time squaring up the frames, and was shaving the wood to get a snug fit. In the middle of her frustrating work, she saw the Deacon out of the corner of her eye, but he was gone in a flash when she turned toward him.  Going back to the job at hand, she caught a glimpse of him again, and again he faded from view.

Exasperated at her disappearing sidewalk foreman, the lady said "Don't just stand there. The least you can do is help me." And bingo, her knife sliced the frame perfectly and the window slid cozily in place.

A little later in the project, a youngster was on a ladder painting the frame around the stairwell. Other workers present said that his ladder slipped off the wall, then just stopped in mid-air and popped back up. Some of them believe the Deacon caught the ladder and saved the painter a nasty fall.

In fact, the Deacon may have been in the church before the Depreciation Museum staff. Karen Parsons, the volunteer coordinator, related to Deborah Deasy of the Pine Creek Journal that a visitor told her that his mom was churchgoer there, and fell off a ladder while cleaning. She landed gently on the floor, and he credited the Deacon with catching her and providing a soft and safe landing.

Sometimes he can be a little hard on the help, though. Parsons also told Deasy that an electrician left the museum in a huff when the light switch he turned on kept getting turned off - and no one was in the building but him (and the Deacon, we assume).

He's also a protector. The museum is only open on Sundays, but rents out the grounds to various tours and groups on other days. Once some Girl Scouts spent the night in sleeping bags in a utility room. Their adult mentors, in a different room, were awakened by an avalanche of noise. The original plaster ceiling had crashed through the newer dropped ceiling and its lowered light fixtures, showering the girl's room with debris. Not only weren't any of the scouts hurt, but many never even woke up during the collapse. Once again, it's thought the Deacon came to the rescue.

The Deacon has become quite the local celebrity. Beside Deasy's article, "Ghost Stories of Pittsburgh and Allegheny County" by Beth Trapani has a chapter on him. You can do one better by visiting the museum. Just bring a ladder and wobble - that should bring the Deacon running.