The Dark Hedges - A Haunting

Well, it's the most spooky month of the year again....the perfect time for some of my favorite things like Jack O'Lanterns, Legends and Haints.  And truth be known some of the present day Hallowe'en customs that we celebrate here in America have their origins in the magical land of Ireland.  So I thought it was the perfect time to share a little story about an eerily beautiful location that comes with it's own 'Ghost'! It even has a sinister sounding name....The Dark Hedges!

The Dark Hedges are located in Northern Ireland in Ballymoney, near the village of Armoy, along a stretch of Bregagh Road.  What makes this stretch of road so unique is the picturesque Beech Tree Canopy that covers the stretch of road leading to what is was formerly known as Gracehill House. Gracehill House was a Georgian mansion belonging to the Stuart family in the 18th century.  The family planted the Beech trees that line both sides of the road, to serve as an impressive landscape feature for visitors coming up the long driveway to the mansion.  And there they've grown for over 300 years.

What makes The Dark Hedges so stunning,  is how they've grown across the drive towards each other,  and have entangled themselves in such a way to form a lovely Tim Burton-esque canopy over the road.  They form a long, naturally arched tunnel in which the light and shadows play in a most beautifully haunting way.  The gnarled branches seem to be a bit foreboding in appearance, while at the same time quite breath-taking to behold.  The old trees appear as though  they may come to life at any moment and pluck you right up with their gnarly branches.  So it's no wonder that a 'Ghost Story' is inevitably attached to this magical site.

Local legend speaks of a supernatural specter that haunts the hedges along the road.  She is known as "The Grey Lady".  She is rumored to be the restless spirit of a former maid that worked at the mansion who had died of mysterious circumstances centuries ago.  The apparition has been spotted gliding along the side of the road and vanishing as she turns the corner past the last beech tree.  Still others believe her to be a lost spirit from an abandoned graveyard rumored to lay hidden in the dank, dark earth of the nearby fields.  But the best tale is the one that takes place on All Hallow's Eve.

For on Hallowe'en night, when the veils between the spirit world and ours grows thin....it is said that the Grey Lady herself is joined on her nightly walk by the tormented souls of those other restless spirits buried beside her in the forgotten graveyard.  Nothing like a lil' Hallowe'en Awakening and Midnight Processional to get the blood racing and the heart pumping, eh?!  I don't know about you...but I don't think I'd be brave enough to venture down that spooky stretch of road alone at night, especially on All Hallow's Eve! 

Orange Tree Photo Wallpaper from Next Trip Tourism
Dark Tree Photo © Bob McCallion (all rights reserved)  Image can be purchased here!

Ghost Story - Island of Deadly Dolls

“He is the intermediary between us, his audience, the living, and they, the dolls, the undead, who cannot live at all and yet who mimic the living in every detail since, though they cannot speak or weep, still they project those signals of signification we instantly recognize as language.” 

~ Angela Carter "Wayward Girls and Wicked Women

Halloween is all about being spooked right?  And let's face it, there are a LOT of SPOOKY people, places and things in this world.  One such spooky place that I just learned of may be old news to some of you, but it was all new to me, so I thought the Halloween Countdown was a great place to share it.  I saw it on my homepage yesterday, and the image was so creepy that I had to investigate it further...

 

This is one of the creepiest Tourist Attractions in Mexico and it's called "The Island of the Dolls", or in Spanish, “La Isla de la Munecas”!  Creepy Dolls rank right up there with Creepy Clowns in my book.  I think there is something disconcerting about seemingly innocent, childlike things having a dark and sinister side to them, that really taps a nerve in our collective psyche!  So here is the bizarre tale....

A hermit by the name of  Don Julian Santana, moved to the island.  Now he was married, but is rumored to have lived the last 50 years of his life alone on the island.  When he moved there he discovered a small girl drowning in the canal and was unable to save her.  He was understandably quite distraught by the events.  Later, Don Julian found a doll floating in the water, and he believed it had belonged to the drowned child.  So he fished it out of the water and hung it up in a nearby tree.  He did this to honor the young girl's spirit and to help protect the island from any further tragedy.

This marked the beginning of his obsession with collecting old, broken dolls and placing them all around the island and the waterways.  He was also said to have fished other old dolls from the waters believing them to be drowning children.  But other stories recount the man as being tormented by the spirits of the dolls, and his collection and placement of the creepy dollies was as a shrine to appease the spirit that was tormenting him.  He believed he could hear the dolls whispering and that the spirit was beckoning him to come into the water.

Now you may or may not think the man was just slowly succumbing to his own madness, and perhaps he was.  But there is one last chilling twist to this terrifying tale.   Apparently, in 2001, old Don Julian was discovered by his nephew, drowned in the very same canal, at the same place where he'd found the young girl.  Coincidence?  Or are there more malevolent forces at work on that island?

The island is now being operated by Santana's family, as one of the world's weirdest and creepiest tourist attractions.  But there have been many a visitor who has felt the unnerving sense that the dolls are watching them.  They've claimed to have witnessed the dolls moving their broken limbs, blinking their eyes, and whispering through the trees.  As such, it is now recommended that visitors offer the spirits a gift of appeasement upon first stepping foot on the island.

I've included a video below that has some good images of the very creepy mutilated dolls, along with a recounting of the tale.  So what do you think?  Do creepy dollies make your skin crawl?  Do you think there could really be discontented spirits on the island that drove Don Julian slowly mad, and eventually beckoned him to his own watery grave?  And would you dare go there for a visit?

Til' Death Do We Part - A Haunting

"At first cock-crow the ghosts must go
Back to their quiet graves below."
~ Theodosia Garrison

As a photographer who loves Halloween, it's only natural that I am drawn to things that look dilapidated and decayed. So when we travel around I do a little research to find those dwellings that have a 'story' to them....specifically 'Ghost Stories' or places with some other tragic past. Not only are those places always atmospheric, but they give you the eebie jeebies when you are walking around them. And they always seem to feel like there is some other presence there. But being easily spooked, I am no where near brave enough to actually venture inside them. (Actually I did walk around and photograph an old abandoned jail once which was really cool.) But sometimes you don't even have to go inside because it's been my experience that the specters of yesterday can be found haunting the entire space where they've met their demise. It's as if they are tied to the entirety of the dwelling. So it's not uncommon to sense shadows, or to feel like something has passed by you, or even worse....gone through you! It's a disconcerting feeling to say the least. But since I have such a fondness for those on the 'other side', I usually don't get too freaked out when those things occur.

The house above is a clapboard house in Salem near the waterfront. And the story circulating around town was that a successful Merchant named Benjamin Hubbard, owned the house that sat near to the wharf. And he had fallen in love with a young lady named Eliza, to whom he was set to be married. Now the back story was that Eliza was very lovely indeed, and had as such, attracted the jealous ire of another young woman in the village named Lillith, who had fancied Benjamin since their childhood, and who was rumored to be dabbling in witchcraft. Because of the rumors, Lillith had become somewhat of a pariah in town. She became increasingly bitter over the treatment she was receiving from the townsfolk, and quite jealous of the fair bride to be. So on the day of the wedding, Eliza was walking with her Father to the Chapel, which could be seen from the Hubbard Homestead, when she suddenly went limp and fell to the ground. They tried to revive her, but it was no use, Eliza expired there on the sidewalk in her Father's arms. No official cause of death could be found, but since Lillith was spotted by wedding guests watching Eliza walk to the chapel, they of course accused her of using witchcraft to put a death curse on the poor girl.

Benjamin was understandably devastated by the loss of his beloved Eliza. Inconsolable with grief, he took his own life in the solitude of the home that he had planned to share with his bride. As the years passed, there were many accounts of seeing and hearing spirits in the old Hubbard Homestead. And because of that, no new residents ever remained in the house for long before leaving. Mainly what was reported was an apparition of a forlorn man looking out the window that faced toward the Chapel, and sightings of a ghostly woman in a wedding dress walking down the sidewalk and then disappearing into the house. Many speculate that the couple who were struck down before they could unite on the earthly plane, now spend eternity trying to reunite in death.
I took a lot of photographs of this house, hoping to perhaps catch a glimpse of the love lorn apparitions, but I found nothing in over 50 images, until I got to this one. And when I saw it...well it gave me chills!!! ;o)

Dead Men Wear TopHats

The house above is located in Vermont, as you can see, it is quite large and has many floors and rooms. That's because in its heyday it was a hotel, a boarding house, a brothel and an apartment. It hasn't been occupied in many years, due mainly to its long and tragic history. You know how some places just seem to cling tightly to the negative energy that inhabits them....well this was one of those places.

When it was a hotel, it was quite the showstopper, and as such, it attracted rich oil barons from the city who wanted a weekend getaway in Vermont. The hotel had a successful run for awhile until the first tragedy struck. Apparently one of the oil tycoons had learned while he was there vacationing, that he just lost his entire fortune on a risky business venture. Unable to face the mounting debt and ruin that awaited him back in the city, the man put on his top hat and coat, and preceded to hang himself from the rafters in an upstairs room. Soon after, the rich quit coming as they found death from financial ruin to be too distasteful for them.

So the hotel was shut down and reopened a year or so later as a boarding house. The lady who ran the boarding house had acquired a bit of a reputation due to the large number of females who seemed to reside in the large house on a permanent basis, and the equally large number of 'gentlemen' callers who frequented the house at all hours of the day and night. Rumor was, the 'Madam' had a shrewd head for business and was a force to be reckoned with if a 'customer' was unable to pay his tab. Well apparently one such swindler came through pretending to be quite wealthy. He stayed several days, enjoying the company of several of the ladies of the house, and basically raked himself up quite a tab. The 'Madam' let the man stay on a 'tab' because he was so nattily dressed and well spoken. He had expensive clothes and shoes, and flashed some money around, so she was confident he'd not only pay his bill, but would be a big tipper to boot. However, the man was nothing but a two-bit con artist who never had any intention of paying a cent.

On his last day, he packed his things and was about to just walk out the front door, when he heard the clicking of a trigger being cocked. The 'Madam' of the house pointed the barrel of a gun at his back and asked him to kindly step back inside, because he must have inadvertently forgotten to pay his tab. The man laughed and pulled his pockets inside out to show that he had not a penny to his name. He then belittled the ladies and the Madam with some verbal abuse before turning around to walk back out the door. He made it to the end of the porch when the bullet when through his head.

Needless to say, the 'Madam' was arrested, the boarding house/brothel was shut down yet again and it remained empty for quite a few years before someone finally bought the property and attempted to use it as some low rent apartments. However, the owner mismanaged his funds and didn't have the money it took to keep the place up. The angry tenants eventually moved out of the structure because it was literally falling in around them. But more than that....many of them could not deal with the many sightings of ghosts and the constant sounds of a gun firing in the night. A maintenance man had gone to the top floor to work on a broken pipe when he saw what he swore was a man in a suit and top hat hanging from the rafters. It scared him so badly, he ran all the way down and out the front door and refused to go back.

The property is now owned by the bank, but there are other houses near it. And the people that live in those surrounding homes all tell of accounts of seeing a dapper gentleman in a top hat walking on the porch. I found this home and its history to be rather fascinating, so I took many photos of it in hopes of capturing some orbs. I found no orbs at all in any of the photographs, until I got to this image....and I couldn't believe my eyes!!!! (Click on the image to see it larger.) ;o)

Lazy Train Headed to Animation Station

This was one of those lazy yet productive weekends. Lazy in that we didn't have too many places to go and we laid around the house watching movies all weekend. But productive because I got a lot of work done on the computer. It was also the perfect time to watch a few Halloween cartoons. So we basically rode the 'lazy train to animation station'! First up, we watched a DVD that we bought several years ago, but had not actually watched yet called "The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad". I bought it strictly so that I would have a DVD copy of Disney's "The Legend of Sleepy Hollow" instead of the old VHS version that we've worn out all these years. I could live without the Mr. Toad half, but a bonus treat was a DVD version of Disney's old animation "The Lonesome Ghosts".
Then we watched a "new to us" cartoon this weekend that really put me in the mood for Hallowe'en....not that it takes much to do that. But none the less, this had every terrifyingly terrific thing you can think of about Halloween in it. It had a Halloween Carnival, apple bobbing, trick or treating, dark magic, a spooktacular ghost train, werewolves, a jazzy skeleton band, a talking jack o'lantern, the headless horseman, witches, a cat, an owl, a flying broomstick, and of course it's namesake...Goblins. And what might this cartoon be? It is none other than "ScoobyDoo and The Goblin King".
I'm sure most of you have seen it, but if not then I wanted to point it out as one to add to your collection. Having not seen a Scooby Doo show/movie in a long time, this proved to be quite the feast for my Halloween hankerings. Most of the YouTube clips had embedding disabled, but I did find this one of "The Goblin King" which has some of my favorite parts like the wickedly awesome ghost train and the skeleton jazz band singing at the 'spook' bar. Then following that is "The Lonesome Ghosts" which made it's debut all the way back in 1937. I just love that old animation. There's lots of fiendish fun...so check it out and enjoy!

Countdown to Halloween Begins

Well today's the big day....the 31 days of Hallowe'en Countdown has officially begun! I know that I am not alone in celebrating the most Spooktacular month of the year! October starts NOW! Tick Tock....the clock is counting down the days to Hallowe'en!

I've come up with a quasi-plan to attempt to follow through on my commitment to participate in this year's web event without getting too overwhelmed by all the festivities crammed into this month and flaking out on it before the month is over like I did last year. I won't make promises, but I will try my very best! I will make every attempt to post something each and every day. But I will not be able to post my usual overly verbose blogs that I am accustomed to posting. I know some of you are probably thanking me for that....ha!

But I will be posting at least one piece of my photography or art each day, or at least something that is Hallowe'en related. If I can't make it an interesting read, then I will at least attempt to make it somewhat of a visual feast for my Hallowe'en Homies! Or perhaps..."Pumpkin Soup for the Hallowe'en Soul". You know, sort of a festive take on those "Chicken Soup for the _______ Soul" books, ha!

Yes...the more I thought on that great lil' title, the harder it became to resist the urge to create the very book that I wish were available at my local bookstore this Hallowe'en! So with the help of a little hocus-pocus (aka Photoshop), POOF! SPOOF! My book was complete. I quite like how it turned out, what do you think? Would this make it onto your rancorous lil' reading lists this month?

Well, neither here nor there....the most important thing is that October is FINALLY here my fiends....so please join me in some revelry beneath the Hallowe'en Tree this month! :o)
(Image © Wendy A.. All Rights Reserved)

The Hook-Man

Have you ever heard the story of 'The Hook-Man'? Some say it's an urban legend that made it's first appearance in pop culture in 1960 in a Dear Abby column. The general story is about lovers parking on lover's lane and a radio announcement comes on about an escaped patient from a state asylum who has a hook in place of his right hand and is considered very dangerous. The girl gets spooked and wants to go home. The boy is frustrated and undaunted by the reports, but finally relents and drives her home in a huff. When he gets to her house to drop her off and goes to open her door, he finds a bloody hook hanging from the handle. Moral of the story...don't be naughty teenagers and go necking in a secluded area, lest you come face to face with the Hook-Man. Other versions have the boy getting out of the car to check things out and not returning, thereby prompting the girl to go looking for him where she discovers him hung over the car by a hook, sliced and bleeding. Does this story scare you?

Well it used to scare the dickens out of me. And it's no secret that I am easily spooked. I have a really over-active imagination, especially when it comes to scary things. But I can squarely lay all blame for that on my older brother of 6 years, for constantly seizing on that quality of mine as a child, and taking every opportunity he could find to scare the living daylights out of me. But it wasn't usually done in the physical, 'jump out of a closet' kind of way....although he did plenty of that too. But he rather preferred a psychological form of torment, telling me they were true stories, playing on my mind and unleashing all those hidden fears that lay inside a young girl. He'd spin terrifying tales of the Hook-Man, and other oddities like Cannibalistic Pygmy Indians. Once he even diligently made a tape recording of the Hook-Man's voice and put it on the window sill outside my bedroom, and cracked the window just a tad so I wouldn't notice. And while I was in my room alone...I began to hear the voice. When I became still to listen more closely, it was the 'Hook-Man' whispering that he was standing outside my window and had come to get me. At the same time, my brother was hiding out there in the bushes shaking the branches and clawing on the window screen with something that convincingly sounded like a HOOK to me. Needless to say, I ran screaming down the hall to my parents room, certain of my impending doom. In comes my brother, laughing in complete hysterics at his sinister accomplishment. I hate him!

And what's so bad is that my Mother in all of her un-infinite wisdom, would let my tormentor babysit me. So he had a captive audience for every demented story he could come up with. My dear older brother would cut off the electricity in the garage and bang on the windows outside, while we screamed in the dark. He would chase me around the house with his huge pet tarantula spider, threatening to put it on me as I ran and screamed at the top of my lungs. (To this day, I have arachnophobia.) Once he even boiled spaghetti noodles, peeled the skins off the grapes and made bowls of ketchup and put them all in boxes with holes for your hand. And he made my cousin and I stick our hands in there to feel what we were told was brains, eye of newt and blood! I guess it does seem a bit funny now in retrospect. But he is the reason my mind begins to imagine all sorts of scary things when I hear a noise outside my window. And why I have never really enjoyed the sensation of being scared. I'm curious if anyone else remembers any Urban Legends or tales of horror inflicted on them by their siblings. Below is a short video I found on the 'Hook-Man'....enjoy!

Urban Legend - The Hook