Wednesday, November 29, 2006

The little ghost of Charleston, Mo.

The following real-life ghost story is a reader’s experience. It happened to Samuel J. Saladino, now of South Beloit, Ill., when he lived in Charleston, Mo., in the early 1990s. This is his story:

I was working the late shift, and at about 8 p.m. my now ex-wife woke me to ask if we could go to a restaurant. We were living with my sister and her husband and I asked my sister if she'd like to join us.

When we returned to the house, I sensed something wasn't right. We had Pomeranians we kept in the kitchen. Poms are yippie dogs, but tonight they were silent. I put my finger to my lips and my wife and sister looked at me. I put my finger to my ear and mouthed, "What do you hear?" They shrugged their shoulders and mouthed, "nothing." Then they realized the dogs weren't making any sound.

I motioned for them to stay where they were while I edged to the kitchen. The male Pom was sitting on the kitchen floor looking at something. I edged closer and saw a girl of about 11, bent over looking at the dogs.

She had pigtails hanging over each shoulder, dangling above the heads of the dogs. They seemed to be watching the girl and would from time to time wag their tails. She wore a white blouse, a dark blue jumper, stockings and black strap shoes. To me, it must be a girl who lived in the neighborhood, had heard the dogs and let herself in.

I stepped into the doorway and said, "hi." She looked up, our eyes met, and I have never seen such a look of terror in anyone's face before. Then the dogs started barking.

She turned to run, and I said, "wait." When she reached the door to the back yard she didn't stop and she ran through the solid door. I could see her running across the back yard, as if in full daylight, but this was 10 p.m. As she reached the end of the yard in front of some woods, the light started to swirl around her and everything disappeared into a dot and the darkness reclaimed the night.

I ran out to see if I could find where she had disappeared. There were two other dogs barking at the spot where she vanished. I can only assume they saw her, too.

My wife and sister caught up to me, screaming, "What's wrong?"

I turned and their faces went white and they said, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

How right they were.

There were no woods at the spot the little girl disappeared. The land had been cleared years before and was now a field.

"You saw her didn't you?" my sister asked. "The little girl, dressed in a dark jumper, pigtails, about 10 years old?"

She'd seen this girl since she’d moved into the house. She'd often see her peeking around the corner. At first she thought it was a neighbor girl, but she'd search and never find anyone.

Neighbors remembered an elderly lady who lived in the house years before my sister. They always saw her wearing her hair in pigtails, braided, one hanging over each shoulder. I often wonder if that elderly lady had passed on and simply returned to the place she loved most.

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt c/o The Examiner, 410 S. Liberty, Independence, Mo. 64050, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Tuesday, November 21, 2006

The curious story of Jap Herron

“That the story of Jap Herron and the two short stories which preceded it are the actual post-mortem work of Samuel L. Clemens, known to the world as Mark Twain, we do not for one moment doubt.”
--Emily Grant Hutchings
“The Coming of Jap Herron” (1917)

Mark Twain, died in 1910.

During the mid-to late-1800s, Twain’s novels, essays and short stories made him a world-wide celebrity. Through financial failures and personal tragedy, Twain, who in 1875 pecked out the first novel ever written on a typewriter, “The Adventures of Tom Sawyer,” never stopped writing.

Maybe even after death.

Emily Grant Hutchings, a struggling novelist, teacher and writer for St. Louis newspapers, claimed Twain dictated his last novel and two short stories – “Daughter of Mars” and “Up the Furrow to Fortune” – to her one letter at a time between 1915 and 1917 through a Ouija board.

“They got on the Ouija board and supposedly had this conversation,” said Henry Sweets, curator of the Twain Museum in Hannibal.

Many conversations. Twain supposedly dictated chapter after chapter – including revisions – to Hutchings and spiritualist medium Lola V. Hays, according to Hutchings’ forward.

Why would Twain pick Hutchings to pen his new works? She was from Twain’s boyhood home of Hannibal.

The book, “Jap Herron,” was published by Mitchell Kennerley in 1917 as “a novel written from the Ouija board – Mark Twain via Emily Grant Hutchings.” Harper & Brothers, owners of the copyright on the pen name “Mark Twain,” sued Kennerley in 1918.

Given the nature of Ouija boards – although not officially classified as a game by the Supreme Court until 1920 – Harper & Brothers had a strong case. But, according to a story in the July 28, 1918 New York Times, the case was about more than an issue of copyright.

“We will put he issue up to the Supreme Court,” said James N. Rosenberg, an attorney for Harper & Brothers. “We will have a final ruling on immortality.”

Part of Harper & Brothers case revolved around the fact that Twain had written in the books “What is Man?” and “The Mysterious Stranger,” that he didn’t acknowledge life after death.

"He refused to believe in a spirit world," the New York Times printed. "He refused to be a spook. Judge or jury must weigh that fact."

But the case never went to trial and life after death remains in the realm of religion. Kennerley and Hutchings agreed to stop distribution of “Jap Herron” and destroy all known copies* and Harper & Brothers dropped the lawsuit.

So the question remains, was the novel written by Mark Twain?

In “Contact with the Other World,” by James H. Hyslop (1919), Hyslop details many sessions with Hays and Hutchings at a Ouija board and saw evidence Mark Twain had dictated a novel from the Great Beyond. But, really, who knows?

Despite the Supreme Court ruling, in some circles the Ouija board isn’t a toy. It’s a gateway to the spirit world. So beware, you may conjure something a little more dangerous than a humorist from Hannibal.

"There is no instruction booklet for the Ouija," according to Sharon Scott and Mary Carothers in 'Toys, Games, and Hobbies in North America.' "There is only one rule that everyone knows: Never play alone."

*Not all copies were destroyed. One is in the Mark Twain Museum in Hannibal. You can also find “Jap Herron” online at www.spiritwritings.com/JapHerronTwain.pdf#search='jap%20herron'.

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it: Jason Offutt c/o The Examiner, 410 S. Liberty, Independence, Mo. 64050, or jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Please include your name, address and telephone number – they won’t make it in print. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Copyright 2006 By Jason Offutt

Tuesday, November 14, 2006

The Ghosts of Workman Chapel

A deep sea of gray clouds masked the setting sun as we pulled into the chapel’s dirt drive.

There were six of us on the ghost hunt. Myself, an audio/visual engineer and four Northwest Missouri State University freshmen. Freshmen? Hey, they were doing it for a grade.

We parked under the limbs of two trees that had grown old next to the chapel. In one, according to legend, a woman was hanged and anyone sitting in a car beneath that spot will hear her shoes scraping on the roof. Urban legend, yeah. But the freshmen were still nervous.

Workman Chapel, just north of Maryville, was quiet in the dusk, its black, glassless windows and open door frame slightly beyond uninviting. We were there to find the ghosts of the woman and two Civil War soldiers who reportedly ride their horses in the chapel’s cemetery.

Two years ago, former Northwest student Jessica Lavicky heard the horses. Her dog heard something, too.

“We walked down to the cemetery and the dog started running back and forth like it was playing with somebody,” Jessica said. “But it wasn’t playing with us.”

John Workman built the chapel in 1901. He’s buried there. Workman’s descendent, Lester Workman, is caretaker of the chapel.

“It’s been empty for years,” he said. “It’s been 50 years or better.”

People have heard church bells peal at the chapel and have seen black, human shapes dancing on the tombstones.

That’s what we were there to see.

Will Murphy, engineer of Northwest’s Mass Communication department, brought digital cameras, a digital video camera, digital audio recorder and a voltmeter.

The cameras were to capture “orbs.” These balls of light you can’t see with the naked eye sometimes appear in digital pictures. Some people claim orbs are pictures of ghosts. Others say they’re light reflecting off dust, insects or moisture.

The video and audio equipment were to record disembodied voices. Freshmen Kayla Lindsey, Katie Pierce and Harrison Sissel shot still pictures in the now black cemetery while Mallory Riley wandered with the voltmeter, trying to pick up energy fluctuations some associate with ghosts.

Then the fun began.

Katie and Kayla called me over. Katie had just taken two pictures. One had orbs. The other didn’t. Dust and insects should have been in both. Had she captured the image of a ghost?

Who knows?

“Oh my God,” Kayla said as Mallory walked past with the voltmeter. Will said the meter can generally pick up .14 volts out of the air; more around an electrical source. If the meter went past .40, Mallory was supposed to say something.

“It’s gone up to 80,” Kayla said.

Ninety. One hundred. One hundred fifteen. The meter went to 120 before Will pointed out they’d been walking toward utility lines. Easy mistake.

Then Harrison ran into one of the great problems of ghost hunting in a crowd mixed with boys, girls and, maybe, monsters. He had to go to the bathroom and he didn’t want to go alone.

Kayla laughed.

“He can’t pee in front of ghosts.”

Maybe it was time to go. We drove back to the university.

Did we find evidence of ghosts? The orbs were interesting, but inconclusive and debatable. We didn’t record voices. And we didn’t detect anomalous energy fields. But, it was fun.

Would any of us go again?

“There’s an abandoned insane asylum near Iowa,” Will said after the freshmen had gone. “People say they hear human screams coming from it at night. Want to go?”

Heck yes.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it at jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Tuesday, November 07, 2006

Southwest Missouri's Spook Light Road

A dusty gravel road connects Newton County, Mo., with Oklahoma south of Joplin. Thick patches of trees on the Missouri end hug the road’s shallow ditches where believers, and unbelievers, park at night and wait for something otherworldly to happen.

This is Spook Light Road.

The Spook Light is a glowing ball that floats over the road from rural Oklahoma and onto the hood of your car before suddenly winking out, only to reappear behind the car like it had gone right through you. The locals say this happens a lot.

Roberta Williams, Carthage, has seen the light.

“It was before midnight,” she said. “It was like a big, huge ball with a yellow glow and it went right straight through our car. I just screamed.”

According to legend, two Quapaw Indian lovers – chased by warriors and an angry father – jumped to their death into the Spring River from a cliff. The Spook Light is supposedly one of the young Indians walking this quiet road searching for their lost love.

The light began appearing when settlers moved to the Joplin area in 1886, but the local Indians reported seeing the light in the early 1800s, said historian Virginia Hoare. Others have ever since.

But Spook Light Road isn’t easy to find. It’s only marked by the county road sign “E50.”

“You never know quite where to stop on the road,” Virginia said. “But people say ‘where do you find the most beer cans? That’s where you can stop and see the Spook Light.’”

I trusted Virginia – she’s seen the Light.

“When I was in high school, and I graduated in 1934, I saw it,” she said. “It came right through the car. We saw it coming toward us and I looked out the back window and I saw it had passed through the car.”

Gary Roark, mayor of nearby Seneca has never seen the Spook Light, but knows many people who have.

“It’s a little bit like people with stories about UFOs,” Gary said. “There’s no doubt they’ve seen something, but what it is is anybody’s guess.”

In 1946, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers investigated the Spook Light, trying to pass it off as the refraction of headlights from a nearby road.

“They couldn’t prove this so they called it ‘lights of unknown origin,’” Virginia said.

A building sits at the head of Spook Light Road. Although it’s a private residence now, it used to be the Spook Light museum. The museum was originally owned by Arthur “Spooky” Meadows who later sold it to Garland “Spooky” Middleton. Middleton sold soda to people who stopped to see the light.

Bill Caldwell, librarian for the nearby Joplin Globe, hasn’t seen the Spook Light either, but he knows why people are interested in it.

“It’s such a community happening. It’s just part of the landscape,” he said. “It is unexplained and intangible, there’s just no way to know what it is.”

To get to Spook Light Road from Joplin, take Interstate 44 to Exit 4; Missouri 43 south 4 miles to Gum Road; turn west on Gum Road to a T; turn south; then turn west onto E50 and look for piles of beer cans.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it at jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number for verification only. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Wednesday, November 01, 2006

The Ghost of Mark Twain Cave

It’s cold in Hannibal’s Mark Twain Cave. Fifty-two degrees all year round.

The feet of tourists scrape along the dusty rock floor, where an uncountable number of feet have scraped since the cave’s discovery in 1819 – feet that belonged to the curious, the romantic and the likes of Jesse James and Mark Twain.

“I seemed to tire of most everything I did,” Twain wrote in his autobiography. “But I never tired of exploring the cave.”

The cave has been home to town meetings, weddings and the ghost of a teenage girl.

When Twain was a boy, the cave was owned by Dr. Joseph Nash McDowell, a surgeon from St. Louis who founded the Missouri Medical College. McDowell was a gifted physician and a little nuts.

“He was trying to petrify a human body,” said Susie Shelton, general manager of the cave. “His own daughter died of pneumonia at 14. He took a copper cylinder lined with glass. He filled it with an alcohol mixture, put in his daughter and hung it from a ceiling in a cave room.”

Children would tell ghost stories around that cylinder – among other things.

“The top of the cylinder was removable,” Twain wrote in ‘Life on the Mississippi.’ “And it was said to be a common thing for the baser order of tourists to drag the dead face into view and examine it and comment upon it.”

After two years of complaints from the residents of Hannibal, Dr. McDowell moved his daughter’s body to the family mausoleum in St. Louis. But, according to some, the lonely figure of young Miss McDowell is still there, walking in the chilled darkness of the cave.

“I’ve had guides say they’ve seen somebody,” Susie said. “I’ve been in and out of there 15 years and have never seen or felt anything.”

Former tour guide Tom Rickey saw something there in the late 1990s that still haunts him.

“I got a cold chill,” he said. “I got them now thinking about it. I got a chill over me and I turned around and she was there.”

‘She’ was a girl wearing a long, old-fashioned dress with a cape.

“I happened to look back in McDowell’s room … and I saw her standing there as plain as day,” Tom said. “She had long dark hair. Very, very pretty. She was only there for an instant.”

Thinking the girl was a lost tourist, he tried to speak to her, but she turned and walked into the cave room.

“She walked off,” Tom said. “She didn’t fade away, but there wasn’t nowhere to walk. She went through the wall. She just walked off and she wasn’t there anymore.”

Susie said Tom’s experience isn’t isolated.

“There have been stories of people seeing a little girl in there, so it’s possible,” she said. “I’ve had a few tour guides who’ve said they’ve felt something. Some guides don’t like to go in there by themselves.”

Got a scary story? Ever played with a Ouija board, heard voices, seen a ghost, UFO or a creature you couldn’t identify? Let Jason know about it at jasonoffutt@hotmail.com. Include your name, address and telephone number for verification only. Your story might make an upcoming installment of “From the Shadows.”

Jason Offutt is a syndicated columnist, author and fan of all things Fortean. His book of ghost stories, “Haunted Missouri,” will soon be available at www.jasonoffutt.com and all major bookstores.

Copyright 2006 by Jason Offutt