One day in the summer of 1984, I was staying at my grandparents’ with a friend. We were looking for deer in the field with binoculars when we noticed an old graveyard with crooked, rusty, iron gates and grass over two foot tall. We were both about eleven or twelve years old and decided to go investigate. When we got to the graveyard, the tombstones were eroded and hard to read, but some dated back to 1700’s and 1800’s. After looking through the graveyard, we noticed an old dirt road leading back into the woods. We decided to see where it went. We walked down this road for what seemed like hours, and it was going nowhere. Then it started to get dark real fast and, since we didn’t have a flashlight, we decided to head back. Before we knew it, it was pitch dark.
As we were walking back, we heard laughter and the crackling of a camp fire. We also heard what sounded like tin cups and whistling. We looked around for the light of a fire, but there was none. These noises sounded like they were within twenty feet of us, but we could see nothing. We started to pick up our pace when we realized that there must be something paranormal was going on here. As we walked on, we heard footsteps following us, gaining speed to keep up. We looked back and saw what looked like faces of apparitions appearing from behind trees. Now it was every man for himself and we started running. I think we would have made a new Olympic record. What seemed like hours of walking earlier, only took about five minutes on the way back home. We ran for our lives.
This took place west of Capon Bridge on Rt. 50 west. It was supposed to be an old stagecoach stop. When you leave Capon Bridge heading to Romney, the old place is on the right of Rt. 50 going down the first mountain out of Capon Bridge. You can barely see the old graveyard at the top of the hill on the Old Ralph Haines property. I will never return.