My daughter was 4 years old when she began to have, what we thought an imaginary friend. Every time she would do something she knew she wasn’t suppose too, she would blame it on her friend April. This was when her younger brother wasn’t old enough to play so she mostly played by herself since we didn’t live around to many kids of her own age. Our back yard was completely fenced in, and she had her swing and all that stuff out there, since it was fenced in I would let her play outside by herself checking on her occasionally as I would do my house work through the day. She would always be outside pushing her swing like she was swinging someone, she would talk to this little girl named April for the longest time.

I got worried about her and confided in my husband’s grand mother that had been born and raised in that area and what she told me gave me chills. She said that back in the early 20’s a family lived where we did and had 3 children 2 girls and one boy. The youngest child was only 4 years old at the time, she had been outside playing in a old barn that was on the property. She was in the loft playing when she accidentally fell through the boards and fell and broke her neck. Dying a short time after that. The little girl’s name was April.

This is not an encounter that I have had but more a story that has been passed through the years. I’m sure every body has heard the mysterious tale of Mamie Thurman, her brutal death, and the man who was paid to take the blame for it. As we all know she is said to walk about 22 HOLDEN every night in search of her true killer, and more importantly justice.

This little tale revolves around that. The small town of Logan, WV was booming with business, the coal mines were at their peek, so of course almost everyone worked in the mines in one form or another. With this booming business came transportation, thus there was a bus-stop at every corner on every road and every holler. There was one bus in particular, the bus that ran for the hoot owl shift on 22 Holden. This bus was like any other, until the night of the death of Mamie Thurman.

Weird events started to happen after that. The two men who had gotten off the bus at the last stop had went to another shift, the bus would still have to go that far through to be able to turn because of it’s size. Well one night the bus driver looked up as he was just minutes from his turning point and saw a lovely young woman in the far back of the bus. He scratched his head thinking to himself “how could I have missed her, I need a vacation”. He looked up at the young woman once more and smiled, which she politely smiled back.

When he reached his turning point at the end of this narrow road she pulled the cord to signal her stop. The driver was curious about this beautiful lady who was out so late at night. So with a smile he opened the door and raised his head as if to inquire on her situation, but to his surprise there was no beautiful woman leaving the bus. She had disappeared, just as queerly as she had came. By this time the driver had convinced himself that he was mad, but he had to check the bus one final time. With his knees quaking beneath him he slowly made his way to the back of the bus where he did find evidence of the mysterious creature, the seat was soaking wet just as the young lady was who had sat in the seat.

The same reenactment went on for weeks and the driver had become accustomed to her presence. His friend’s made awful fun at him when he told the story of his last stop, he was even threatened to be fired if the obscured lies did not stop, and he was, and so was the next man who ran that run. The men managed to convince their former boss to give them one more chance, they could prove it to him, which they did that also and were given their jobs back on one condition, that they would never speak of this strange happening again as long as the bus still ran. The men kept their secret for a long time, but business got bad in little old Logan, it wasn’t booming any more, it was barely alive, the buses stopped running and the stories kind of died for a while.

My grandmother “rest her soul” had told me this and other legends when I was a child. 22 Holden is connected to a 4 lane now, and I will tell you something odd that I would swear my own life against. You can pull your car off the road, like your going to enter 22 Holden, and it will pull your car up the hill, not far, but it is up hill, and you can actually watch your car being pulled up the hill, rolling right up it on its own. I don’t know if it’s an odd coincidence or if it’s Mamie Thurman telling you that if she can’t leave, neither can you.

I pulled into my friend’s driveway at 3:00am one morning, he was asleep and I seen that his window was wide-open upstairs. I started throwing rocks and clumps of mud into his window to wake him up.

Across the road is an old abandoned miners house that is rotting away. As I was throwing the rocks I heard some pounding noises like a nail being hammered into a board. The noises would do that a couple of times and then it would change into a much higher screeching noise, like pulling nails out of boards. They were coming directly from the old building.

I don’t know if something happened on this night in the past years of this building, but the ghosts were haunting it and I know for sure that they weren’t happy.

I can remember this as if it were just yesterday. My aunt and uncle called begging mom and dad to bring us boys and come spend the night with them. They lived up on West Fork of Harts Creek. They didn’t have any children and they said they really got lonely. Mom said on day that we would go spend the night. That night after dad got home from work mom packed up a bag and my uncle came to get us. Mom said sis probably wants me to clean her house.

We spent the evening just setting around talking and had a nice supper. When it came bed time they both insisted on us sleeping in their bed room and they would sleep in the living room. Mom pulled back the bed covers and put us boys in middle. She and dad turned off the lights and lay beside us. Just about the time we started to go to sleep we heard the closet door squeak and it flew open. We heard a scuffing sound like someone with house slippers was coming towards the bed. Then the corner of the bed at the bottom sank down. Dad jumped up and turned on the light. The closet door was wide open. He shut it and turned a big 3 inch wood lock on it. He lay back down turned off the light and all night long it kept doing the same thing. Morning came and we were all worn out. Mom said; don’t say a word about this to your aunt and uncle.

First thing they asked at breakfast was how did you sleep last night? Dad and mom both spoke up saying just fine. They insisted that we please spend one more night and that they would take us home the next day. When it came bed time again they insisted on us sleeping in that room again. Dad tied a string to the light and tied it to the bed post. He made sure the lock was locked and turned out the lights. All night long it did the same stuff. Just as soon as he pulled on the light the indention on the bed was gone and nothing could be seen.

Next morning same question was asked. This time mom just dropped her head on the table and said we are killed. We haven’t had a winks sleep in two nights. That’s all we wanted to hear they said. We cannot sleep in that room. There is a haunt in there… which is ghost. We just thought we were going crazy. Now we know it’s really haunted.

After mom calmed down from wanting to whip her sister, they got to talking about the room. My aunt and uncle started discussing stuff that was in the closet. Uncle had been in Siapan during the war. For a souvenir he had brought back a Japanese Sword and a belt and pair of Japanese shoes. The looked like flip flops. He had them in the smoke house but, had brought them in back in the spring because the smoke house was leaking really badly. Get them out of here today. She said bury them up on the hill. He said, “No I can’t.” He told us the story how he was in a man hole and he heard the enemy coming toward him. All the military were ordered to stay in their man holes and if they heard someone it was an enemy and to fire. He said the next morning he found the enemy dead he had shot him and killed him. He took his money and belt with bullet holes in it and the shoes and Japanese sword as a souvenir.

He took it, put in a box and buried it some where on the hill behind their house.

No one ever mentioned hearing anything else again. Poor ole uncle he was relieved but, then till the day he died he was scared of haunts.

I am 14 years old, this is a story that my brother told me, he is 27, and I am sure he would not lie about this. He delivers mine supplies for Belo Mine Supply in Belo, WV, which is close to Delbarton, Varney, and Ragland.

He was delivering mine supplies to Boone County one night, and he said he got lost, and he went down this old country back road, he was going to stop somewhere and try to get directions. He said he just kept going and going out this road, he saw a woman walking beside the road, and this was around 10:00 pm. She kept her back to him, until he pulled up beside her.

He rolled his window down to talk to her, she turned around towards him, and he said that her face had paintings and markings on it. He just slammed the gas pedal to the floor, and just kept going out that road and he came out somewhere in Boone County. I am sure he would not lie about this he was so scared.