Charleston Nights

My wife, Christine, and I spent a few days in Charleston, S.C., recently, and a little of that time was devoted to exploring dark alleys and a few cemeteries. I suppose walking tours are a bit touristy, but they can be a way to pick up lore and details, especially in a historic city like Charleston. And the tour guides usually have keys to the cemetery gates.

Temps were dipping a bit as we walked toward the tour office for a 7:30 p.m. tour. "Are you sure you still want to do this?" Christine asked.

That's Christine above at Circular Congregational Church cemetery.

That graveyard has historic graves, a mausoleum and an employee who gets a little testy about the gate's padlock.


We also headed down one cobblestone alley where the whistling ghost of a physician killed in a duel can reportedly be heard from time to time. We didn't hear him, and we didn't catch sight of a boo hag, a spirit from Gullah lore, as we traversed a few other dark corners while the tour guide explained the boo hag's characteristics.

Wasn't for want of looking over my shoulder. Into the shadows.

We actually stayed across from another stop on the tour, the restaurant Poogan's Porch.

Reportedly a former resident, a school teacher named Zoe, cruises past windows late at night and isn't really happy about an eating establishment doing business in her former home. Word has it a stovetop fire she may have been responsible for almost claimed the building once upon a time.

Other accounts include patrons who've reported seeing what they thought was an elderly woman in the restroom only to find out the "woman" looked a lot like Zoe.

Didn't see her myself, but had a great BLT with fried green tomatoes there day after the tour.

And we learned the story of the spot's namesake, a little dog named Poogan who lived in the neighborhood when the restaurant opened.

He served as a greeter on the house's porch, and earned a statue when he passed away in 1979.

I was struck most by the story of Sue Howard Hardy, the mother of a stillborn baby. Her ghost was reportedly photographed in St. Philip's Cemetery in 1987. Supposedly she'll reach out to expectant mothers to this day. 

Several establishments have glass floor panels that look down on old tunnels and wells under the current city. I knew of underground Seattle but I didn't know about Charleston.

It's exciting to walk through history, to pass buildings George Washington visited and to stroll past spots where the city's almost forgotten wall once stood.

It was cool also to stroll around the edge of Charleston Bay and to visit White Point Garden. That's the spot where gentleman pirate Stede Bonnet was executed following a betrayal by Blackbeard and his trial and conviction. Bonnet was inspiration for my tale "Admiral of the Narrow Seas".

The Woman in Black - a ghostly thriller

I was fortunate to see The Woman in Black in a Carmike Cinema "BigD" theater, offering a big screen and enhanced surround sound.

That meant the haunted house Danial Radcliff was exploring filled one wall of the cinema, and all of the creaks and bumps were right next to me.

It was a good way to see a ghostly thriller that puts some of the eerie tropes that have been making audiences jump anew,in flicks like Insidious and Paranormal Activity, back in the Edwardian era in creepy style. 

The tale focuses on Radcliff as grief-stricken lawyer Arthur Kipps who's sent to an isolated seaside village to organize the papers of a recently-deceased client. Despondent over his wife's death, the assignment is sort of a last chance from senior partners.

He finds most villagers unreceptive to his presence and is soon working to unravel a dark mystery that ties the history of his firm's client to contemporary deaths that appear accidental. His one ally is the great Ciarán Hinds in a non-villainous role.

The film's at its best when Kipps is alone in the house, piecing together past events amid encounters with strange presences including the title figure, a well-realized image of darkness.

Eerie moments including the sudden gaze from a ghost through a zoetrope device deliver real chills even to a jaded film viewer.  Other period toys in general are used to great effect.

It's all wonderfully unsettling, with some intense moments and a period set-piece that provides a tense climax.

In the end, the plot may not be 100 percent satisfying. I've not read the Susan Hill novel nor seen the original BBC adaptation, but I wondered if the ending was from the page.

It's still a great ride, though, especially for those who appreciate the roots of the modern horror genre. It's also a great chance to see Radcliff transition to non-Harry Potter roles with a character that shouldn't disappoint fans.

Biblioholic's Bookshelf - A Christmas Carol - Classic - Tor Paperback Edition

Charles Dickens is in the public domain, so editions of his classic works are in great supply. E-book editions abound, along with many hard and soft cover editions.

Regardless, I loved the cover on this Tor edition when it turned up in a local store a number of years ago, so I added it to my shelves. It's a nice volume to slip out on the years I don't re-listen to Patrick Stewart's one-man rendition of Scrooge's redemption.

 

Blog Book Tour - Pamela K. Kinney and Haunted Virginia

Pamela K. Kinney, whose Cthulhu mythos story is featured in my horror fiction podcast Fear on Demand, has a new book called Haunted Virginia, and she's doing a blog book tour since the book's official release is today.

I'm happy to welcome her here as a guest here on my corner of the web today, and I hope you'll seek out her book. Part of my goal with Fear on Demand is to promote the authors who are contributors, so let's help make her appearance on the 'cast worthwhile. And of course, feel free to share this information with anyone who's interested in the paranormal.

Haunted Virginia sounds interesting. Apparently even Mothman, one of my favorite monsters, has put in an appearance within the state's borders.

From Pamela:
"Today, my new nonfiction ghost book, Haunted Virginia: Legends, Myths and True Tales is officially released. You can find it at brick and mortar bookstores and online retailers (like Amazon). If it is not in the bookstore, they can order it for you.

So, if you like ghost stories, monsters, myths, legends, urban legends, little known myths of famous Virginians like Edgar Allan Poe and George Washington and much more, then this might be the book for your summer beach read.

Be prepared to take a journey into Pamela K. Kinney's fantastic dreams of horror, science fiction and fantasy, plus the ghosts and legends of two nonfiction ghost book, Haunted Richmond, Virginia and Haunted Virginia: Legends, Myths and True Tales."

From the back cover
ISBN: 978-0-7643-3281-4
$14.99
256 Pages

Virginia is unique with haunting myths, legends, and yes, even true stories that may sound like legends.

Take a ghostly tour of this historic state to learn about the Bunnyman urban legend and what happens to mortals at his Bunnyman Bridge in Clifton at midnight on Halloween. Discover the myths that surround Edgar Allan Poe and other famous Virginians.

See why Natural Bridge is actually a haunted tourist attraction; and what makes the Great Dismal Swamp so creepy: Is it the ghosts or Bigfoot? Meet the Witch of Pungo in Virginia Beach.

Find out that Mothman and the Jersey Devil weren’t just seen in their own states, but actually visited Virginia at one time.

Read about witches, demons, monsters, ghosts, pirates, strange animals, and Civil War legends. Visit an amazing, frightening, and even intriguing Virginia that you never knew existed.

A little about Pamela
Pamela K. Kinney is an author of published horror, science fiction, fantasy, horror, poetry, and so far, two nonfiction books, Haunted Richmond, Virginia and Haunted Virginia: Legends, Myths and True Tales, both published by Schiffer Publishing. Using the pseudonym, Sapphire Phelan, she has published erotic and sweet paranormal/fantasy/science fiction romance, also poetry and a couple of erotic horror stories, including the current ones, erotic urban fantasy, Being Familiar With a Witch by Phaze Books and erotic Lovecraftian horror novella, Unwitting Sacrifice, by Under the Moon. She also has done acting on stage and in films. Find out more about her at:

http://FantasticDreams.50megs.com

or at either of her MySpaces: http://www.myspace.com/PamelaKKinney and http://www.myspace.com/SapphirePhelan.

She admits she can always be found at her desk and on her computer, writing. And yes, the house and husband sometimes suffers for it!

Order now from these outlets:

Schiffer Books

Amazon

Barnes and Noble

Target

BAM

and -- this is Sid speaking again -- Powell's the City of Books is listing it too!

I hope you'll check it out and look for Pamela's other books and stories as well, and you can follow Pamela on Twitter as well.

My Old Man's Ghost Story

I think I've mentioned here that what imagination I have came from my father. He always saw the largest rabbit, the biggest fish, was once given a lift by one public enemy or another--or perhaps a 1930s traveling salesman just trying to scratch out a living during the Depression, but if you were my dad you had to open your mind to possibilities.

At any rate, the old man could tell a tale or offer a writer's embellishment even though he never picked up pen.

Once upon a time, he had occasion to visit an old, deserted house, just a kid out of adventures. He never had a dime for a pulp magazine, read Tarzan and Dracula from the library and saw the occasional movie.

Slowly he turned
Half terrified, he crept into the old house, explored a few rooms and then came upon a tin lid, left behind perhaps when the previous owner vacated for better prospects.

Unwittingly he invented his own Frisbee, picking up the lid and sailing it through the house. It curved along through the air and disappeared into another room where he heard it hit the wall then thump to the floor.

He was past being scared then and was just looking around, but a second later the lid he'd clearly heard hit the floor came sailing back out of the other room.

He didn't wait to find out more. He let his feet do the thinking and beat a path back home.

What ifs
Now perhaps there was a hobo sequestered in that old house. Perhaps the lid didn't hit the floor but simply bounced back.

Or perhaps, the house's previous occupant was still there, not wanting to be disturbed by intruding boys in search of adventure. Ooooo WHEEEEEE oooo!

More Halloween Stories - New Orleans, Voodoo and More

I have great memories of New Orleans, and I continue to hope the recovery goes well. I read a great AP story about the legendary ghosts of New Orleans once upon a time and saved it for many ages.

It talked of course of Madam Lalaurie House, a torture tomb of a place in its day where the ghosts of Dephine Lalaurie are said to continue hauntings to this day.

I wrote a story for a now hard-to-find collection called Erotic New Orleans Stories. Called "Repast" it doesn't deal overtly with Madam Lalaurie's victims but I've always considered the female lead in the story to be a modern offshoot of the notorious society matron.

Voodoo Tour
I went on the voodoo tour once upon a time also. We went through Congo Square where early voodoo ceremonies were held, and I visited the graves of Dr. John and Marie Laveau, although her bones no longer rest in the above ground crypt marked with Xs in St. Louis Cemetery No. 1.

Her bones are considered to be powerful magic and thus had to be hidden less voodoo practioners steal them for rituals.

I hope I'll get to go back again some Halloween. There are a couple of places I haven't visited including the Sultan's Palace, site of an unsolved mass murder, where the ghosts of the victims are said to be seen.

The Mother Hubbard Man - Another Ghost Story?

The Halloween we did the feature on Central Louisiana ghosts, I threw in a mention of the Mother Hubbard Man, not a ghost story exactly, but strange and mysterious and almost forgotten. Googling it reveals no entries.

In Gumbo Ya Ya
I'd read a mention about the figure in Gumbo Ya Ya, a hefty compilation of Louisiana folk tales put together during the Depression by the Louisiana component of the Federal Writer's Project under the direction of Lyle Saxon.

I believe it was in the same chapter that discussed feared New Orleans needle men, believed to be agents of doctors in need of subjects for human experiments. Needle men were said to prick unsuspecting pedestrians with tranquilizing agents, then haul them away.

The Mother Hubbard Man's motives when he appeared in 1915 seemed to be less sinister but overtly racist. He got only one line in Gumbo Ya Ya, mentioned in the same literary breath with other ominous pranksters as well as the Ax Man, a New Orleans serial killer who was never officially identified.

Records check
I called the police chief of Alexandria at the time I was writing the article to see if records from 1915 were still around. They weren't, and I didn't scour nursing homes in search of residents who might recall 1915. It seemed unlikely and I was on deadline with limited indulgence from editors to live out a Kolchak fantasy.

I did pull up microfilm of the newspapers of the day, however, and I located at last what seemed to be a second article about the Mother Hubbard Man. It referenced a previous appearance of the cloaked figure in evening clothes, but I was never able to backtrack and locate an earlier article.

The Mother Hubbard Man's Appearance
In his frightening garb, he put in appearances in what the paper at the time identified as the Sonier Oil Mill Quarters, a predominantly African American part of town.

He apparently lurked around the shadows and leaped out at passers by to frighten them. If he made more than two appearances it's not known.

Police never found him, or at least it wasn't reported in the newspaper. Likewise no published reports indicate that he did any physical harm.

Who was he?

A teen age prankster?

An adult racist?

A ghost? OK that’s a stretch.

Someone covering a darker purpose?

It's not the greatest mystery of our time, but that one tantalizing line in Gumbo Ya Ya has always made me wonder.

Second Hand Ghosts

When I was a feature writer, we decided to do an article on regional ghost stories one Halloween, and one of those Central Louisiana tales has stayed with me. Seems worth recalling here since Halloween is approaching again.

I found a gentleman near Winfield, LA, I believe, and we talked on the phone and he recounted a gentile ghost story. No rattling chains or bloody hands, yet eerie in its way.

I'm not sure of the house that was supposed to be involved, but it was a Southern mansion and a young man came to stay. He was given a room on an upper floor. It had a window that overlooked an area beneath one of those majestic trees that stand on the lawns of Southern mansions.

A moonlight gathering
Sometime during the night, he woke up and looked out to see a gathering in the moonlight. Some sort of party was going on beneath the oak, a huge gathering of people.

I think I've always imagined them in 18th century finery, I don't know that that's really part of the story, but I always picture hoop skirts and parasols.

Apparently the visitor was not terribly disturbed by the scene. He rolled over and went back to sleep.

Over breakfast
It was over breakfast the next morning that he brought it up to the host. "Why didn't you tell me there was a party last night?" he asked and described the scene.

"There wasn't," his host answered. "There were no people out there, but that's where they used to hold parties in this house's heyday."

Then, both I'm sure were suitably chilled.

What about ghosts?

As Halloween approaches, water cooler conversation inevitably turns to ghosts and spirits and more "Do you believe?" queries like I mentioned yesterday.

I failed to touch on that in my dissertation on not believing in Bigfoot any more.

Do I believe in ghosts?

Well on ghosts, I'm willing to say: "I don't know."

Publishers divide writing into categories. Fantasy and horror are built on magic and the supernatural. Science fiction and suspense and grounded more in--as the narrator on the fabulous old Tales from the Darkside series used to put it--what we "perceive to be reality."

Of course magic is only magic until someone develops a scientific explanation for it, whether it's fiction of folklore. The fairy abductions of which our ancestors whispered would get categorized as fantasy. Alien abductions, to which we more rational minded folk today might at least give a tip of the anxiety hat, would be classified as science fiction, if written as say a novel and not a personal experience, in which case it's Communion.

Back to ghosts
Anyway, back from that ramble -- ghosts. Right now, we don't know. Are they spirits of lost relatives or hallucinations, folk tales or phenomenon.

I've never seen one, but the newspaper where I wasted my young life was housed in an old J.C. Penny's department store building. The photography department was on the second floor. I'm not sure what it once had been. The executive offices were where my mother once browsed spring fashions and I pissed off sales clerks by playing hide-and-seek in the aisles.

On the way to the dark room
A long flight of steps led up to the dark room. I'd get winded in my twenties climbing them.

Reporters working late at night to fill column inches swore disembodies footsteps moved up and down the steps, perhaps looking for lost dressing rooms or bargain racks.

The offices of the library where I worked were in an old family home, probably a mansion back in the day. People working there swore the home's original owner breezed through the living room every now and then.

The restless departed? Tricks of the eye? The ex-J.C. Penny's settling?

I don't know. With Bigfoot, the absencse of a corpse, skull, legitmate footprint or, as biologists might put it, scat, it's pretty much a no.

Ghosts, well, they're not corporeal. Not leaving physical traces is pretty much their job.

But ultimately, it doesn't matter that much. If we get it figured out that's fine. We'll still tell ghost stories for the same reason, as I mentioned yesterday, I still read accounts of Bigfoot sightings even though I've pretty much let that one go.

It's about mystery and wonder and to borrow a cliche "What if..."

I can live as a pragmatist, a skeptic, but I can also suspend my disbelief to write and to be read to. It's fun, it's escape and it's Halloween time. As Ray Bradbury tagged it - The October Country.