NEARLY 40 years ago the Calhoun County correspondent of the Cincinnati Enquirer prepared the following account of Calhoun’s most prominent ghost, which the Enquirer printed. Interested persons saved clippings, with the result that the story has reappeared recently in various weekly papers in that section of the state. It combines all the elements of a good ghost story and contains about every characteristic ghosts are known to possess, and reads as follows:

Grantsville, Calhoun County, W. Va., March 24, 1886.–The following history of the haunted house, situated on the bank of Little Kanawha river, about three miles from this place, is presented to the scientist for explanation. The skeptical reader is frankly and honestly referred to any one of the persons named herein for verification of their share of the history. Although it is one of the strangest and most unaccountable stories written on this subject within a quarter of a century, every detail is well authenticated. A solution of the mysteries connected with this history will be received with gratitude and pleasure by hundreds of the respectable and honest citizens of Calhoun County, Ritchie County and Wirt County. But to the history:

About three miles from the county seat of Calhoun County there resided, and still resides, Mr. Collins Betts, a farmer, who is well known throughout this section of the country. His house is a one-story, rambling affair, close to the banks of the stream and but a short distance from the highway. But for the reputation of the house it would be a frequent stopping place for the wayfaring; as it is, there are now but few men, in a country famed for its nervy and physical giants who would dare to stop over night at Bett’s house.

The reputation of the house as being haunted was acquired some years since. By some – many in fact – it is ascribed to the disappearance of a peddler in the neighborhood and never to be heard of more. It is whisperingly surmised by the most cautious that the peddler was known to have had over $1,000 in his possession at the time; and was probably murdered in the vicinity. Others say his horse had been left and no one ever came for it. Be this as it may, from that time forward Collins’ house has borne the reputation of being haunted.

Among the first who tested the truth of these rumors was a Methodist minister – Rev. Wayne Kennedy – who was well known throughout the state; a nervy, courageous man, who was never accused of a particle of cowardice. The reverend gentleman stopped at Betts’ one night when belated, and willingly took the haunted chamber as his bedroom. About 12 or 1 o’clock the preacher felt something heavy bearing down upon his chest. The sensation of smothering awoke him. When he had collected his senses he declared that he saw something like a big black dog sitting upon his body in the bed. He said that it was with the greatest difficulty he was enabled to throw off the incubus and release himself from the deadly pressure.

In the morning the preacher left, but before doing so he told Betts’ that he was not a particle superstitious, but that he would not stay in the house another night for the whole farm. The ghost or phantom appeared in different forms and was not confined to the house, but has been seen as far away as the top of the mountain opposite the house.

One night James Wolverton and his son, a boy about 18 years of age, were on their way home, driving an ox- team. When almost at the top of the hill Wolverton declares he heard the tramping of hundreds of horses, and the rattling as of so many sabers in their scabbards and upon looking back saw what he thought a troop of cavalry riding at t gallop upon him. His oxen saw him also, and became frightened, and ran off down the mountain. Wolverton said that just as he thought they would rider over him he threw up his hands and exclaimed, “My God, men, don’t ride over me!” He declares that the mystic cavalry disappeared instantaneously just as he cried to them to stop. Mr. Wolverton and his boy have always adhered to this story, and as they are men of probity, nobody questions but they saw something.

Now comes another still stranger story: John Betts, brother of Collins, came to Calhoun from Colorado on a visit to his brother. He was a large muscular, rough-speaking man, and when he heard these stories he laughed at them and sneered at his brother and everybody who had the temerity to tell him of the rumors. He declared his intention of sleeping in the room where the phantom was often seen. One night he went into his room as a hale, hearty man as one would see in a month’s travel. In the morning he was found lying upon his back perfectly helpless.

He said that sometime during the night he felt some heavy weight upon is breast. He undertook to throw it off, but was unable to do so, and suffered torment until daylight, when the oppression ceased but he had lost the use of his limbs. Mr. Betts has never entirely recovered.

A man named Haverest slept there one night. He says he heard the rattle of chairs upon the floor. Nothing can induce him to try it again.

A strange feature of most of the cases is that the victims seem, although perfectly conscious, deprived of power to resist the incubus, and suffer torment for hours.

Many people profess to believe that it is the effect of some sort of gas which arises from the earth and is inhaled, but others disbelieve in the gas theory. All would like to have it explained.

Captain Hayhurst, a visitor also from Calhoun, stopped with Betts. What appeared to be a headless man rose before Hayhurst’s vision in the middle of the night and frightened the gallant captain so badly that, as he says, he “wouldn’t stay another night in the house for the entire farm.”

Henry Elliott met with a fate somewhat similar to John Betts. He slept in this room and was nearly smothered to death by something he took to be a large black animal. Elliott has been an invalid ever since.

I had a conversation about the haunted house with Mr. Henry Newman, a prominent timber man about 60 years of age. Mr. Newman is not the least superstitious, but he fails to explain the mystery. He said he had heard the stories often, but didn’t pay any attention to them. One night, however, he stopped at Betts’ and was asked if he objected to sleeping in the haunted chamber. He said he did not. Mr. Newman’s story is that he went to bed, but being very wakeful he lay still and mused until about 12 o’clock. About that time something commenced clawing the bed-clothing off his person. He said he threw himself up in the bed, expecting to catch a cat or some such animal, but there was nothing there. A second and third time the act was repeated but he could not see anything. He left the next morning, and says he does not want any more of it. Young Hosey a nephew of Betts, who resides on a farm several miles distant, says he had occasion one night to pass the haunted house on his way home. Just about half way up the hill, some strange apparition appeared and frightened the horse so badly that it ran off down the hill through the brush. It could not be found until the next morning. This is another instance when the phantom or whatever it was, was perceptible to both man and animal.

John Jenkins, a well-known citizen of Ritchie, is reported to have stopped there one night. What John saw does not clearly appear, but whatever it was it frightened him so badly that he got out of the room as quickly as possible, ran to the stable, saddled his horse and left in a gallop. He never could be induced to go back.

It is claimed that the sound as of persons whispering can be heard in the room, and at the windows. A sound as of water dropping into a tin vessel is often heard, though no such article is about.

The family of Betts himself do not seem to be less annoyed than other people. The women say they hear all sorts of odd sounds as of water dropping, whispering and the sound of the fall of some heavy body.

Two nieces of Betts, stopped over night at his residence some time ago. One of them was overcome by the fear of some peculiar shape and ran out of the room followed by the other. Neither can be induced to go into it again. They say they saw horrible phantoms, but could not describe them.

A sister of Betts, in a conversation about the house, said there was something mysterious connected with the house which she couldn’t explain. According to the lady’s story the house has never been haunted or in any way different from others until after the death of an old woman named Riddle. Since than the place seemed the abode of some restless phantom.

It is no trouble to find people by the dozen in Calhoun who have heard and had some queer experience with the Betts house. Such men as Captain George Downs, whose word can not be disputed, declare they have seen the phantom of a headless man or some other headless sight. To be stripped of bed clothing in the middle of the night, without any tangible means, was not uncommon. In fact, the reputation of the place appears to be widespread, and no one seems to be rash enough, after such experiences as the above cited, to test the matter or find the solution of the mystery.

Your correspondent had often heard of the haunted house of Collins Betts, and determined finally to learn all he could about the mystery. He has interviewed dozens of respectable people, and all of them, though disclaiming any superstition, seem thoroughly mystified. Everyone who ever stayed there over night has heard or seen something strange or horrible. I have no doubt but that some one will yet be able to explain this mystery, but until then the haunted house of Collins Betts will be the notoriety of Calhoun County, W. Va.

I used to stay with my Grandma and Grandpa in Logan County, West Virginia. They lived at a place called Madison Creek by the river. Although she has mentioned on a few occasions before she died, I cant remember much about who owned the house grandma and grandpa lived in before they bought it as I was a young girl.

I do know something wasn’t right in that house. The bedroom adjoining the living room always made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. And when I slept in there, it always felt as if someone was watching me from the walk-in closet in that room. When I told her I didn’t like sleeping in there by myself, she began to tell me how there was something in that room that used to pull the covers off anyone who slept in that room. She also told me about the knocking that was heard in there for many years. Every night, up close to the ceiling, not too far from the closet, something would knock loudly about three times.

She also had a walk-in closet in the dining room that she called “the press” (that was what she called a closet that size.) In the back of this closet was a bloodstain about 6 inches in diameter and what appeared to be blood splatter around it. She said she had scrubbed it multiple times and it always came right back.

My grandma knew the man that had lived there before she and Grandpa had bought the house. She said that this man was a very mean and hateful man. She went on to recount a story about another man that went missing and the man that lived in the house at the time hated very much. My Grandmother believed that the man who lived in her house before she bought it had killed the man who went missing and this accounted for the blood stain in the walk-in closet and the strange happenings in the bedroom off from the living room. She believed he had buried him under the house. There used to be a small cellar under the house, But Grandma had Grandpa sealed off the old cellar and cover it up as best as possible with dirt. She said the phenomenon happened less and less after that. Sadly, my grandparents have both passed away but my uncle still lives there. Maybe someday someone will dig the old cellar out and see if any remains can be found, Grandma never came forward because she was afraid people would think she was crazy.

My family has a long history with the ghosts on Bud Mountain and plenty of other places in West Virginia and other states. However, this story will deal only with Bud Mountain.

The first ghost is that of George Sizemore. His stepson killed him. My family moved into the house sometime in the 60’s. My mother felt him standing over her bed each night and was so scared that she would not sleep alone or at least had to have the light burning. The house is not there anymore, but George is. He never was limited only to the house.

My Aunt had seen him once while she was hanging out clothes at her house, which was down the road. My Uncle has seen him staring in the windows at his house.

George never does anything or says anything. He just stands there and looks at you. However, I was told that after he died, whenever his wife would walk home at night after visiting her boyfriend, she would see George walking up the road in front of her. That might be why they moved!

The other ghost is that of old Mrs. Eastridge. She was supposed to be somewhat mean and crazy. My mother seen her standing at the foot at one of the beds in the house and my grandmother would hear the bed springs creak like someone was getting out of bed and then footsteps going to the kitchen. They would stop at the sink as if she was getting a drink of water and then they would return to the bedroom where the bed springs would once again creak.

Mr. Eastridge haunted the place too. He was killed one day while out in the fields I believe. I have heard that he was possibly murdered. Anyway, after being mortally wounded he did manage to crawl back to the house. My Uncles saw what they thought was a dog crawling toward the house one night. Nevertheless, when it got closer, they saw that it was a man and he was stepping up onto the porch. They got inside pretty quick!

Once, my mom and grandpa were walking up on the mountain when they seen a big white dog. They recognized it as Leonard Lester’s dog. The only problem was that Grandpa knew the dog was dead.

Two of my uncles were walking past a coal heap one day carrying a gun when they both took off running! When they got a little ways down the road one turned to the other and said, “Did you see what I saw”? The other confirmed that he did. It was a local man who had been shot & killed after arguing with another man over a gun.

One other occurrence involved yet another aunt and uncle. None in the family exactly knows what to make of this one. They were walking by the cemetery on the way to my oldest Aunt’s house when they seen a lot of people and cars. The people were standing around the other man who was digging a grave. They were all talking. Neither of them recognized any of the people there so when they got to their sister’s house they asked her who had died recently. She said that none that she knew of had. That was funny since Bud is a small place and they knew everybody. When they walked back by a little later, none was there. There also wasn’t a fresh grave or tire marks.

I help my aunt Sandi clean the Blume Haven. Well one day we were there and the jukebox kicked on by itself. Me and my Aunt were both upstairs. I was like cool, my aunt was like it does that all the time. Well I went back and helped her again and the same thing happened. I do not know what happened, but I have been back and every time I hear music kick on. You can stand across the room and see the pages flip on the jukebox all by themselves… I do not know what is going on there, but something is not seen to the human eye.

Somethings, are even more frightening when not seen. This is a story, of such a time. The boys were anxious to make an early start, Gary and James were brothers, Carl and Jesse were their cousins. The boys had grown up together, known each other their entire lives. The boys were country boys, used to the woods, hunting… and dogs.

Gary and James owned Old Sport, a Lab Retriever, fiercely loyal to them, as they were to him. He was coal black, fast as lighting, and as strong as could be. Old Sport easily towed two boys at a time when they went to the swimming hole on hot July afternoons.

Country boys don’t speak of love for their animals like some city folk do, It’s just there to them. They show the love with a pat on the head, or here sport, up on the bed call at night. They love their animals, the animals know it, and the animals love them back, that’s how it is in the country.

So it was no surprise that Old Sport was racing about the yard, this way and that, as the boys prepared to leave that morning. Sport loved to hunt as much as he loved the boys, today he would enjoy both, his young master, and the thrill of the hunt.

Sport was already sniffing the air, jumping and barking as the boys started up in to the hills. This was to be a fun trip to an old cabin back in the hills. An over-night sleep out that boys seem to love, as much as candy and Coca-Cola. Jesse the youngest always full of questions, nagged at Carl his older brother till Carl was ready to pop him on the side of his head and tell him to shut up a while. Old Sport with the magic knowledge that only dogs possess, quickly drew Jessee’s attention, into a game of fetch.

Gary and Carl both 13, each carried a rifle of 22 caliber. Both boys had been taught well the use of firearms, and learned it. For both had many times brought home rabbit, and small game for stew at home. Jesse and Jimmy knew if they behaved even reasonably well, their older brothers would allow them to crack off a few shots later on in the day. Both boys waited anxiously for this to come about.

The true hunt wouldn’t begin until the following morning, but if Old Sport scared up a rabbit, they would surely take a shot at it. But in truth all the boys were really interested in was getting up to the cabin, shedding there clothes and jumping in the huge swimming hole and playing the day away. Then hunting there way back down the hill early next morning. This had been their pattern for many weeks and it was comfortable to them.

Jimmy, Jesse and Sport now ran up ahead playing, as Gary and Carl hung back, rifles safely tucked down and away under there arms. The boys walked slowly forward as the July sun was now making any effort a sweaty business. “Bout a mile and a half to go”, spoke Carl, “yep”, answered Gary, his eyes keenly looking into brush. “Want to stop at the clearing just up from the cabin and let the young-ins shoot a spell” asked Gary “I reckon,” answered Carl.

It was then Gary stopped, and closely looked all around, “What” asked Carl. “Duntno”, said Gary.. “something don’t feel right.” Carl eyes followed where Garys had been. “Don’t see nothing”, spoke Carl.. “AWWW come on its hot lets go” Gary was uneasy, he had no idea why, and didn’t like the feeling. But was also aware his cousins ability to tease, was acute, so shrugged it off, and continued on.

The boys reached the clearing, and enjoyed watching their brothers shout with glee every time there aim was true and bark jumped off a tree. The rest of the day was spent laying out bed rolls, and swimming in the pond. The boys had brought bread and lunch meat and water, and were quite content at the days end to lay about on their bed rolls, and talk as boys do. Old Sport laying between Jesse and Jimmy, as dusk turned to dark.

The boys talked on and on endless boy talk, sports, summer plans, then ghost stories. Jimmy and Jessee loved these stories and begged for there brothers to tell them. Even though it meant, also begging to sleep with them when they finished the tales. The night had cooled considerably, and a mist was forming outside. Which could be seen clearly through the one cabin window. A perfect night for ghost stories, and thrills.

The boys were huddled close, chill bumps starting to form on their arms. Carl was telling about a headless man who looked for little boys who stayed out to late at night. Jimmy and Jessee’s eyes were as big as could be and holding their breath till when Carl would jump at them and try to scare them, which he managed to do quite well every time he told the story.

The stories went on for some time. The night sounds outside the cabin adding to each tale. Old Sport lay across the two youngest laps as they petted and stroked him and listened to their brothers. Sport all at once rose up and faced the door. Leaning low, as if to attack, a low growl forming in his throat.

The boys were motionless, shocked and fear held them frozen. Sport, was seeing, smelling or hearing some thing… they couldn’t, and Sport knew it was bad. The Little ones moved to there brothers and protective arms found both their shoulders. No words passed between them yet only the bond of brothers was spoken, silently.

Carl passed a rifle to his cousin, Gary pulled back the action on his single shot 22. As Carl crawled toward his own 22. Jesse finely broke the silence between them. “Is it a bear”, he asked. “No…shhhhhhh”, said his brother. “But what is it then”, whimpered Jimmy. “Dang it Jimmy, be quiet”, hissed Gary. The two oldest boy’s rifles at ready inched towards the only window. Sport moved again to block them. Both boys inched back. Then they heard… first as if from a distance, but quickly growing louder, a low and very sharp scream, but not a human one… not human at all….

A foul odor begins to fill the cabin, the boys tense and scared, now were becoming terrified. Jesse and Jimmy began to whimper, Gary and Carl were close to it as well. Only Sport seemed fearless as his back fur rose up and his growl deepened to match the scream.. of what ever was out there.

The boys now heard it clearly just outside the door. The stench, and screaming was more then they could deal with, rifles forgotten, they now huddled together, tears on all their cheeks. Their eyes locked to the flimsy cabin door with it’s small wood bolt, the only thing keeping “IT” out.

Then with a mighty leap Sport crashed through the window. The sound of his growl and attack, filled the night air. And as quickly as it began, it ended. The stench drifted away… the scream went silent, and Sport ceased to be heard.

The small lantern inside the cabin, the only source of light begin to flicker. The boys so terrified, not one of them moved to check it. Nor because of their fear would they open the door to call Sport home. At some point in the night they found the safety of sleep.

Early dawn light spilled in through the shattered window, and as they woke, each boy was sure a nightmare was what happened during the night. None of the boys spoke, and no one moved toward the door. Then a whimper was heard just outside the door, a whimper Gary knew well it was Sport. He moved to the door quickly now with the courage of morning light to chase away night fears.

All the boys bare-footed and still fearful from the night before, went through the door… each one bumping into the other as the first boy froze in his tracks. All their eyes focused on Sport, their savior, he still stood guarding the door to the cabin, but weak oh so weak and shaking slightly… and his beautiful jet black fur, now as white as snow.

There are many instances of human hair being turned white almost instantly by shock or deep terrifying fear. This story happened to our uncles. As relayed by my grand mother. As a youth myself I once asked one of my Uncles about this story and Old Sport. My Uncle, just sort of stared away from me, lowered his head a little, and softly said, ” best dog there ever was”, and wouldn’t or couldn’t say any more.

This story was told to me by my 12th Grade English teacher. I’ve done research on the events that take place in the story and as far as I can tell it is true. It is a bit long but it is worth reading. Enjoy!

Many years ago a newly wed couple bought a house on Brandon Rd. The young man worked in construction and his wife stayed home. The layout of the house is as follows: the master bedroom was in the front corner of the house next to the front door, the front door faced a long hall way and ended in the kitchen, the back door was straight ahead.

A couple of months went by and the young man came home early from work to find his wife in bed with another man. Outraged he ran back to his truck and grabbed his shotgun. When he got back to the front door the other man was running down the hall towards the back door. He raised the gun, shot and killed the man. Next he turned the gun on his wife, still in bed, and shot her. Then he put the barrel of the gun in his mouth and committed suicide.

Several years later a woman and her son purchased the house. John (My English teacher) played baseball with the boy who lived in the house. One day the two of them cut class and went to the boys house to pass baseball. John threw a wild pitch and broke out the front bedroom window.

The mother told them not to worry about it that she was glad to be rid of that window. The boys were confused and asked the mother what she was talking about. She told them that engraved inside the window were the words Beware to all those that enter. She said that she had tried to remove the message but failed. She said it seemed as though it was inside the window rather than on it.

She proceeded to tell them that on a certain night (I can’t remember the exact date) every year at a certain time a cold wind would stir up in the house and the blankets on her bed would lift off her and lay themselves in the floor. The woman had the window replaced with a new one straight from the store. She was painting the new trim around the door when she noticed an imperfection in the glass. She leaned in for a closer look and was horrified to see that the message, Beware to all those who enter, had returned.

The boys didn’t believe it, so on the night that this was supposed to happen the two boys got a few of the other baseball players to come over and witness the events. The hours passed as the group of boys waited for “the show to begin”. The time came and as it did so did the wind. The boys raced to the mothers bedroom in the front corner of the house and watched as the blankets elevated and drifted over and laid down on the floor.

Years later the woman had the house tore down and moved to the other end of town, the only thing she kept from the house was the bedroom window. She kept it wrapped in a quilt in her garage. A few years went by and the woman got word that a parapsychologist was speaking at the local university. She went to the garage and unlocked the door to retrieve the window to have it examined, but when she got inside she found the window in pieces and the quilt it was wrapped in folded neatly next to it.

This is a true story of a bed passed down to me. My mother and father gave me a bed that was most beautiful. On the back it was dated 1890. The year was 1997. I just been divorced, a single mom, working and living out on my own. I was the only one to sleep in the bed for awhile. Yet I always kept a scared feeling while sleeping in it. I would awake a lot because I thought someone was touching me. So I started to sleep a lot on the couch.

One evening I was coming down the hall way from the bed room where the bed was, it was cold in there for no reason. The heat was on. All of the sudden it felt as if someone had touched my back. My son was sitting in a chair facing me. He at the time was only 4 and 1/2. He said mommy there is something black on your back. I was then so scared that we went and moved back into my parent’s house. The bed was stored. Later about 6 months later I’d had remarried and moved into an apartment, counties away from where I had lived.

My son was needing a bed. So the bed I had in storage was brought there. I thought nothing of the bed really. I thought my trouble I had was from the place I was living. Anyways, it was not long before my son started having bad dreams. Every night he would wake me and his step-father up crying “they are going to get me. Make them go away.” For a while he would say “mommy do you see all these people”. I could not see them. But I felt scared to leave him. It went on for almost three months. He said they are wanting to touch me. They are old. Feeling a little silly I asked my parents why they gave me the bed. They said they knew that I needed one when they gave it to me.

I laughed and said your grandson swears these old people are trying to get him. My dad looked at my mom and said what do they do. They have flowers sometimes but most of the time they want to touch him. They then told me that my mom had the same things happen. Dad said she would sit up in bed and say do you see them. He never seen them either. After learning this I went to a used furniture store and gave them the bed. After it was removed my son slept peaceful again. Their was no doubt that the bed was haunted.

There is something in the woods near Barborsville. Two boys saw it near the interstate, then it was behind a woman’s garage at Ona. It has a man’s face. Me an my buddies are always in the woods and we saw something way off at the edge of this clearing where a tipple was, that they tore out around 1978. It was out past the Guyandotte River at night.

I didn’t know what it was, so I said let’s just stay up here, but this one guy had been drinking and he wanted to go down to where it went behind a big pile of stumps. So we walked down but never could find anything. But you could sense that whatever it was was still there.

If anyone else has seen it or heard people talk about it, please let me know.

I was sitting at home enjoying some TV after laying my baby boy down for bed. My wife was in the hospital after a difficult c-section surgery and I was caring for our baby who was about 3-4 weeks old. Anyways, I was sitting on the couch when out of the corner of my eye, I see light dancing on the wall in my babies room (it’s right next door to the living room). I assumed someone was snooping around the house so I went outside to investigate, but couldn’t see or hear anything (this happened in late September with plenty of leaves on the ground).

When I come back in the house, I naturally checked on my son and noticed that the window facing the direction where the light would have come from had the shades pulled and closed, so there was noway someone could have shined a flashlight in the room. Needless to say, I didn’t sleep much that night. Since then my son has gotten older (17 months now). My wife has told me stories of him looking behind her and laughing at something,and trying to hand a toy to someone or something that isn’t there. My wife seems to think it is her father who passed away many years before our son was born. I hope it is.

They say that little children can see things that adults cannot…

When I was 4 or 5 yrs. old my grandfather Floyd Lilly and, I were getting ready to put up his gardening tools for the day.

I would follow the man sometimes like a little shadow. This one day he was putting up his tools in the little pump house right behind his house. It is still there today, the new owners didn’t tear it down. I was muttering along, He opened up the door and’ told me to move back out of his way.

It was a beautiful spring day. The clouds were big and puffy. The wind was blowing them dancing through the sky. I turned my head upward toward them and out of the sky; I know I was a child but, I can remember this as if it were yesterday… I saw this beautiful lady on a rope swing come down from the sky. She was an angel. She had beautiful long wavy hair. White long pearl dress and wings not big but more like an aura around her.

I was really frightened and I screamed Papaw look… He backed out of the pump house. He put his arm on my little shoulder and, said yes I see. Woo Wee he said. He assured me that she would not harm me, that I should never tell anyone what I had seen. He said this is our secret don’t say a word…

I went running through the path in his garden to my home. Mom was hanging clothes on the line outside. It was chilly so I ran in and remember warming in front of the stove. I was just rambling on and on about the angel in the swing… She said oh you had a bad dream. You didn’t see a real one… I remember they were having a baptism in the Guyandotte river right below our house and I watched through the window. The music was so similar to the music on that movie Oh Brother and reminded me of the baptism. I thought maybe the angel came to watch it.

Now after this event took place. I quit talking to anyone except for my mom and sister. This went on for almost a year. I remember them saying they wanted to take me to a doctor… They’d give me notes to take to the store or grandmothers to get something. They tried everything. They knew I was going to be old enough for school and they had to get me to talk… I was bribed with all kinds of stuff. Money, Candy, nothing worked… One day my grandmother said If you go out to Papaw and say I love you Papaw I will give you some candy and, If you don’t I will give it to your sister Libby and, she will eat it all. She said people think the cat got your tongue… I laughed stuck out my tongue at her and touched it…

When she handed Libby the candy I knew I had to do the hardest thing in my life… I ran out to the Pump house of all places. I looked up into the sky where I’d stand and wait sometimes thinking shed come back. I said the words grabbed the candy and flew home… Two yrs later Papaw was diagnosed with cancer and, lived only 6 months after that. I’d go outside and watch for the angel to come and tell her not to take Papaw. Never said a word to anyone never even thought of saying anything…

Yrs later after he passed, my grandmother and her daughters were setting out back. Talking about Papaw how he loved to come out back and, play his harmonica. Granny said it was like he was playing for someone. I remembered the angel and, told her about it and how he made me promise to never say a word… She said and, you didn’t for almost a year. I wondered who the angel was?

A few years ago after having survived breast cancer. I was up at mothers and decided to go take a movie of the cemetery right across from where I had seen the angel. I was playing “Angels Among Us” my favorite song, and doing a video of the graves. I got down and blew up a picture of my Granny Mary, My Grandfathers first wife… Oh God, That was the angel… That was her… I was so excited… She was my guardian Angel Mary. No wonder papaw told me not to say a word… He had seen her too. Maybe shed came to let him know she was coming to get him… The mystery as far as I’m concerned is over.

One cold winter night, my friend J. and I were returning from an early movie at the old Palace theater in Parkersburg West Virginia. We took a short-cut down over Ambrose Hill to get to Sixth Street. As usual a slow moving freight train was passing by and we had to wait to get across the railroad tracks. It was very cold and there was maybe an inch of fresh snow on the ground. The night was clear and we were stomping our feet trying to stay warm.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a black shadow of a man running towards us, from the East, not behind us. I grabbed my friend and as we both looked in the direction he was coming from, he just disappeared. How can there be a shadow of a person, but no real person? I don’t know and I’m not sure I want to know, but it happened to my friend and I.