Kentucky Hauntings (9 page)

Many years ago, Wanda moved with her husband, children, and parakeet to an old house in Louisville. It had several eerie features that spooked her right from the first. Not long after they moved in, she set about cleaning the basement and found some old bones on a shelf under the window. They looked like they might be the bones of rats or birds, but she never learned for sure what kind of bones they were or how they got there. Regardless of what they were, she didn't want them occupying any part of her basement, so she threw them in the garbage.

She heard that the house had once been a doctor's office. She wondered if he might have used the bones some way in his practice. She couldn't imagine how, though.

There was one other thing about the house that really bothered her. Whenever she went to the basement, she felt she was being watched. Her washer was in the basement, so she had no choice about going down there. She would stuff her clothes in the washing machine and run back upstairs. Sometimes, the presence she felt would be so strong and unpleasant that she would leave her clothes in the washer for quite a while until she got up enough courage to go down and take them out. The good thing was that the presence never came upstairs—until one disturbing night.

Wanda's husband worked at night, so Wanda was glad when her oldest sister, Nellie, and her children came up from the country to visit. The cousins were especially happy to be together.

The evening passed quietly and bedtime approached. Wanda and Nellie got the beds made up for the children and themselves. Wanda put the cover over her parakeet's cage, and they all settled down to sleep.

Suddenly, the parakeet started a ruckus like they had never heard. It squawked loudly and flew wildly around its cage. Wanda took the cover off to see what was causing it to act that way, but she saw nothing there except a very frightened bird. She was puzzled because the bird usually went right off to sleep when she covered the cage. She waited a few minutes while it still carried on, but she finally gave up waiting for it to settle down completely. She covered the cage and went back to bed. Once again, they all tried to sleep.

Sleep did not come easy. As they were drifting off, a thud pulled them back into reality. They were surprised to see that one of the children had fallen out of the bed. They got up and checked the child; fortunately, she wasn't hurt. They all went back to bed, and just as they were relaxing, they heard another thud. Another child had rolled out of bed.

For the rest of the night, the bird fussed and the children fell out of bed, one by one. They were not hurt, but they were really scared. They weren't playing a joke. They were tired and sleepy, and getting a little cranky because they wanted to sleep. Something was determined, however, that none of the family would sleep that night. Finally, around 4:00 a.m., the activity stopped. The bird got quiet, and the rest of the night passed without incident.

Wanda never could figure out why the ghost picked the children to disturb that night. Even though nothing else happened while they lived there, Wanda and her husband found another house as soon as they could and moved away.

This story came from one of Lonnie's uncles. It was often repeated in storytelling sessions
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Early settlers and those who lived in rural areas through World War II were accustomed to having guns in their homes. Rifles (known as the twenty-two) were useful in hunting rabbits, squirrels, and certain birds for food. Many boys had a rifle of their own by the time they were eleven or twelve years old. They hunted with their fathers and would use tin cans as target practice when left alone to provide their own entertainment.

Hunters were legally permitted to shoot turkeys, quail, pheasant, geese, and ducks for food, and they were allowed to shoot hawks that attempted to carry off their chickens. Some birds were not to be killed, though.

The dove was one bird they did not shoot. Many believed it to be a sacred bird. Children were told the story of the dove bringing an olive branch to Noah on the ark to show that the danger from the flood was gone. The dove became a Christian symbol of the Holy Spirit and the international sign for peace. Some Native Americans believed it was bad luck to kill a dove because it was believed to contain the soul of a lover. Some people also believed that the dove was sacred because it was the one bird into which witches and even the Devil could not transform.

Twelve-year-old Eugene Long had heard these beliefs for as long as he could remember. He had just received a twenty-two rifle for his birthday, so he was not surprised when his mom and dad reminded him of all these things. They stressed that he must never kill a mockingbird, a dove, or a songbird of any kind. Eugene assured them that he would not do that, so they allowed him to go out alone with his new rifle.

It was late afternoon the day before Thanksgiving, and it was Eugene's plan to kill a turkey all by himself for Thanksgiving dinner. Yesterday, he and his dad had spotted some turkeys down by the creek in the edge of the woods in back of the field behind the barn. Eugene was very excited as he walked past the barn and his mother's chicken coops.

He could hardly wait to surprise his whole family by bringing home a turkey all by himself. The idea made him feel very grown up and important.

He approached the creek and wooded area very quietly. His eyes searched along the creek bank as he waited for the turkeys to appear. The minutes crawled by without any sign of the turkeys, but Eugene was patient. The sun dropped out of sight behind a dark bank of clouds in the west, and a cold wind picked up and made Eugene shiver. The clouds moved closer as he waited, and the air felt damp.

“It feels like snow!” Eugene said to himself.

The shadows deepened and began to close in, and Eugene had to admit that no turkeys were going to show up today at this location. He thought maybe he could go out again early Thanksgiving morning and try again. Disappointed, he started through the field toward the barn. With his hunt over for the day, he was now looking forward to the warm house and the delicious dinner his mother would soon have ready.

As he walked along, Eugene saw a bird land on top of the barn. It had appeared in a flash and he couldn't see it clearly, but the sound of startled chickens in the coops convinced him it was a hawk. His instinct was to protect his mother's chickens, so he stopped and took action without thinking. He placed the barrel of the rifle on the fence post to steady it, took quick aim, and pulled the trigger. His aim was perfect. The bird toppled from its perch and slid down the roof of the barn to the ground. Excited by the thought that he had killed a hawk, he ran to the bird and stopped abruptly when he saw his mistake. It wasn't a hawk at all. It was a dove, bleeding and dead, on the ground before him.

Eugene was stunned. How could this have happened? He had never meant to shoot a dove! He should have taken a closer look before shooting, but he was so thrilled at the chance to use his new rifle that he had neglected to do so. What was done was done, though. He couldn't change it. He knew he would be in trouble with his parents, but it was better to take the dove to the house and tell them what he had done than to leave it here and let them discover it. He picked the dove up and saw drops of its blood where it had landed on the ground. Guilt-stricken, he carried the bird home and showed his parents.

Their reaction was not as bad as he expected. Of course, they were unhappy about what he had done, but they could see that Eugene was truly sorry. They helped him bury the dove and then said no more about it.

Eugene had trouble sleeping that night. The clouds had moved in, and the wind howled and whistled and kept him awake until almost dawn. When he woke the next morning, there were three inches of freshly fallen snow on the ground.

While his mom cooked breakfast, Eugene went to the barn with his father to feed and milk the cows. As they approached, they noticed something unusual in the snow. They walked closer to examine it. There in the deep snow was a circle about the size of a large lard can lid. The ground inside the circle was in plain view. Not one flake of that three-inch snow was inside that circle.

“Dad,” Eugene said in a hushed voice, “that is the spot where the dove fell after I shot it.”

It was a long time before Eugene took his rifle out again, and he always made sure he knew his target before he fired.

Eugene had good reason to think of the dove during the rest of his years on the farm. When the winter snows came, the circle where the dove fell remained completely clear. When the green grass of spring and summer grew, it surrounded the circle of brown earth, but nothing ever grew in that circle.

People wondered if the spirit of the dove lived on after the bird's untimely death on the eve of Thanksgiving all those years ago.

This story came from Roberta's side of the family. Barbara Jane Alley told this to her sister Lou Ann, Roberta's grandmother, and Lou Ann passed it on.

When Barbara Jane was in her teens, she once spent a winter with relatives in southern Kentucky near the Tennessee state line. Her Uncle Samuel had broken his leg in a fall from a horse and was left weak and sick. He and Aunt Lou had two small girls, but they were too young to be of much help to their mother. Lou and Samuel had lost an older boy in an accident the winter before, so they needed a pair of strong, young hands to help out. Barbara Jane was used to hard work at home, and she was happy to stay with them when they asked her. Her presence was very welcome that winter.

Barbara Jane helped with the milking, cooking, cleaning, washing, and ironing. Aunt Lou often sent her through the woods close to their house to the country store to get whatever supplies the family needed. Barbara Jane enjoyed the walk, except for one spot. The path was narrow there and wound around rocks and stumps where sinister-looking shadows lurked. At this spot, the earth dropped sharply to a stream that flowed far below. Barbara Jane could see how easy it would be to lose her footing and plunge into the stream. It was the scariest part of the walk, so she made a point of being very careful there. She tried to avoid going into the woods at all after dark unless there was something the family absolutely had to have. She wasn't terribly frightened in the woods, but she had to admit to herself that the shadows spooked her a little when they looked so lifelike.

One day when she and Aunt Lou were preparing supper, Barbara Jean said, “Do you ever see people shadows in the woods when you walk there?”

“I haven't walked there in a long time, child,” her aunt answered. “I don't pay much attention to such things. I guess there are lots of animals in there that might make shadows.”

“I don't think what I see are animal shadows,” said Barbara Jane. “Sometimes I think a shadow is following me, and it scares me a little. Do you avoid walking in the woods now because of shadows?”

“It's not shadows that keep me out,” replied Aunt Lou. “It's memories of better times there.”

Barbara Jane remembered that Uncle Samuel had fallen off his horse in the woods. She figured that that was what Aunt Lou was talking about, so she let the subject drop.

Barbara Jane continued to make trips through the woods to the store, and she often caught a glimpse of a shadow that seemed to be following her. She said nothing about it to her aunt and uncle. They often looked sad because it would soon be a year since their son had died. The fatal accident had happened at Christmastime, and the approaching Christmas season made them remember.

As Christmas grew near, Aunt Lou began making her annual Christmas goodies for the family and neighbors. She needed extra flour, lard, sugar, and spices for baking cookies, cakes, and pies and for making candy. This meant more frequent trips to the store by Barbara Jane.

On Christmas Eve, the house was full of wonderful smells, and the family ate heartily from the platter of ham, bowls of steaming vegetables, and special desserts. The family felt particularly blessed because Samuel was beginning to get his strength back. The two little girls were excited about Santa Claus coming, so it was hard to get them to bed. Finally, they wore themselves out and went to sleep.

“Barbara Jane,” announced Aunt Lou, “it's time to get the presents we ordered for the girls.”

“Where are they?” inquired Barbara Jane, looking toward the closet and then the attic door. “I'll help you fill their stockings and put their presents under the tree.”

“Why, they're at the store, hon,” said Aunt Lou. “Didn't I tell you? We always leave the presents at Harmon's store until Christmas.”

“Why on earth do you do that?” asked Barbara Jane.

“Most folks around here do that,” explained Aunt Lou. “There's no place to hide them at home. The Harmons don't mind keeping them so the little folks won't find them before Christmas. They live beside their store and it gives them a chance to visit with their neighbors on Christmas Eve when they come to pick up their purchases. Sometimes, it means an extra sale or two if people need something at the last minute. I filled the lantern for you. All you have to do is run there and back. It won't take long.”

Barbara Jane felt her heart sink. Uncle Samuel had mentioned at supper that he heard on the radio that snow was coming in. She had not expected to be out tonight, but she couldn't let her little cousins down.

She put on her coat, scarf, and boots and lit the lantern Aunt Lou had filled for her. As soon as she stepped outside and started across the yard to the path in the woods, she knew she had more to worry about than the shadows tonight. Heavy snow had started to fall, and it was already sticking to the ground.

She ducked her head and crossed through the swirling snow to the path that led her into the woods. She hurried as fast as she could, but walking into the wind was hard. She knew the path would be completely covered on her return trip, so she tried to memorize other things by the path to mark her way home.

It took longer than usual, but she finally arrived at the store. Several others were there picking up their presents. The Harmons offered her some hot chocolate, but she didn't stay to visit. She took the huge bag of gifts and headed back out into the snow.