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"Keeping the Story Real"
Copyright © 1998 - 2008
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Excerpts from Pat Fitzhugh's Upcoming Book
Ghostly Cries From Dixie
(Working Title)
Scheduled for release in October of 2008
From the ghosts of disasters past to scientific manifestations in the Appalachian Mountains, author Pat Fitzhugh masterfully blends facts and regional lore to bring you an authoritative yet chilling collection of stories from the southeastern U.S. You'll learn about the Sultana tragedy and Orpheum Theatre in Memphis, the phenomenal Brown Mountain Lights of North Carolina, the Bell Witch of Tennessee, an abandoned TB sanatorium in Kentucky, a haunted furnace in Alabama, a haunted slave torture chamber in Louisiana, and much more! Fitzhugh not only tells the chilling stories, but also discusses the crucial elements surrounding them, giving the reader a fuller view and, in several cases, introducing previously unknown elements that have never appeared in print before! Pleasant dreams.
The following excerpts are Copyright © 2005 by Pat Fitzhugh, all rights reserved.
Mayhem on the Mississippi - The Sultana Tragedy
The Civil War brought the
southeast many ghost stories, the thought of which conjures images of soldiers
still lurking the battlefields and bugles sounding in old Confederate graveyards
late at night. One of the war's most tragic events, however, took place not on a
battlefield, but a river – the Mississippi – and evoked what many believe is
a strong paranormal presence that exists even today.
The Mississippi was crucial to both the Union and the Confederacy in terms of
military strategy, supply lines, and soldier transportation. Gunboats could
quickly attack such ports as Memphis, Vicksburg, Natchez, and New Orleans
without significant detection. Ammunition and supplies could be easily transported to soldiers in the
battlefields close by, and many Union soldiers used steamboats for
transportation to and from the battlefields.
After the war, the government announced that it would pay steamboat companies $5
for each Union soldier they transported home. This led to the assignment of
larger vessels to fulfill the mission. One such vessel was the 280-foot steamer,
"Sultana," built in 1863. The trips northward seemed long and grueling
because the weary soldiers were forced to crowd inside the 376-passenger vessel
as it made its way up the Mississippi and Ohio rivers, a trip that took several
days.
The Sultana's routine was straightforward; it would fill to capacity, sail
northward, and then return to pick up more weary soldiers. The vessel soon
became known as a "workhorse" steamboat, never stopping for long and
always sailing on time. Its dependability was noted by Union commanders who,
when faced with the possibility of making a "kickback," loaded as many
soldiers as possible onto the vessel each trip; the more men who were
transported, the larger the kickback.
On April 24, 1865, a contingent of 1,900 homeward-bound soldiers waited at
Vicksburg, Mississippi for the Sultana to arrive from New Orleans, where it had
left three days earlier, carrying 185 passengers and a cargo of sugar and
cattle. The vessel made good time until it encountered boiler problems a few
miles south of Vicksburg, which delayed its arrival by several hours. In port,
commanders discussed how many soldiers would be allowed to board; there were far
more soldiers than the vessel could accommodate.
Safety concerns soon gave way to
the importance of getting underway quickly when the boiler repairs were made.
Soldiers were allowed to board as repairs were being made, and they would be
accounted for when the vessel was underway. The Sultana steamed away from Vicksburg at 10:00 PM, carrying upwards of 2,000 passengers.
The Sultana picked up more troops along the Mississippi as it made its way
northward, finally arriving in Memphis, Tennessee on the evening of April 26th.
It had been an uneventful trip from Vicksburg to Memphis, but a routine boiler
inspection revealed a major leak and the vessel was ordered to stay until
repairs could be made. More passengers, mostly women and children, boarded the
vessel while most soldiers disembarked and visited nearby taverns to kill time
while the repairs were being made.
The whistle sounded just after midnight, and most soldiers returned in time to
sail. Captain J. C. Mason guided the Sultana across the river to Hopefield,
Arkansas, where it took on coal before heading northward. Flooding in the North
had caused the river to flow swiftly and out of its banks, and the wind and
dense fog combined to make for an even slower and more treacherous voyage to the
next port, Cairo, Illinois, several days to the North. The Sultana slowly
steamed off into the darkness as the lights of Memphis slowly faded from sight.
On board, passengers began settling in for the evening. Some were fortunate
enough to sleep in cabins and others had to settle for the outside decks; space
was very limited. Mothers found sleeping space for their children near the warm
boiler room; the repetitious straining and chugging sounds made their little ones fall asleep in no time.
For the weary soldiers, this was the final leg of a four-year journey plagued by
death, disease, and exhaustion; it was almost over. They would soon reunite with
their families, in some cases for the first time since the war began. Between
such emotion and being packed like sardines, sleeping was very difficult for the
weary soldiers.
Laboring against the wind and swift current, the Sultana neared a small cluster
of islands called "the Chicken and Hens," just after 2 AM, averaging
only six knots per hour. The previous port, Memphis, was still only twelve miles
away. The fog's increased density seemed to absorb all sound – even the
chugging of the engine – and an eerie silence fell over the vessel as it
slowly chugged up the Mississippi.
Then suddenly, the eerie silence
turned into all-out mayhem. A strong blast jolted the vessel, throwing
passengers off the outer decks and into the frigid depths of the Mississippi.
Some were killed instantly by the impact, and others suffered only broken limbs.
Their attempts to stay afloat were futile; their cries for help turned into
gurgling and choking as the strong undertow pulled them down into the cold,
muddy depths. They would not be heard from again. At about the same time, a series of gut-wrenching screams came from the
boiler room, which had become an inferno of burning wood and melting steel. The
screams, mostly of women and small children, were very intense but lasted only a
few seconds. They were not heard again.
Seconds later, another blast was felt. Red-hot chunks of coal were strewn
throughout the vessel; the chunks that flew overboard made a loud, hissing sound
when they hit the water. This second blast flung more bodies, mostly burning,
overboard – much like the hot coal, but only with a shorter hiss when they hit
the water. Passengers who survived the blasts tried frantically to reach the
main deck as more things caught fire and smoke began filling the vessel; a few
made it, but most were in shock or too injured to move.
Within minutes, the Sultana – all 280 feet of it – had become a floating
inferno of wood, steel, and human carnage in the middle of a deep, swift river
with no other sign of light anywhere. Passengers searched desperately for
anything that might keep them afloat so they could swim to safety, but very little could be found; most everything was on
fire. One of the giant smokestacks finally collapsed, landing on a handful of
passengers and burning them to death. The main cabin deck collapsed at one end,
dumping passengers into a "pit" of sorts, which was situated at the bottom of the vessel where the fire seemed the
hottest. Suddenly, the wind shifted and swept the fire, along with the aroma of
burning wood and human carnage, to the outer decks.
The few remaining passengers stood at the outer railing, pondering whether to
jump or be burned alive. Most said a short prayer and jumped; their cries for
help faded as the current pulled them under. A lucky few happened upon
driftwood and managed to stay afloat, but eventually succumbed to hypothermia and their bodies were found frozen to
the driftwood several miles downstream the following morning. Those who
reluctant to jump held onto the railing until the intense heat gave them no
choice; they jumped and suffered the same fate as most of their fellow
passengers.
Reduced to a floating bed of coals, the Sultana's remnants drifted aimlessly for
several hours before washing up on a small island.
The towering blazes were seen back in Memphis, where search parties set out the
following morning. A few survivors were found along the riverbanks and taken to
a Memphis hospital, but most died from burn complications in the days that
followed. It took some time to gather all the bodies from the river, and
identifying them was difficult because puffiness and discoloration had set in;
and to make matters worse, many had been severely disfigured by the blasts.
Still other bodies had become tangled in submerged brush and trees as the
current swept them downstream. They were found, first by wild animals, in the
spring when the floodwaters subsided from the thickets along the riverbank;
their identification was impossible.
The Sultana tragedy claimed more than 1,750 lives – yes, even more
than the Titanic -- but made headlines for only a short time. Why this horrific
tragedy received so little attention is anyone's guess, but the author feels
that the news of Lee's surrender to Grant (April 9th), Abraham Lincoln's
assassination (April 14th), and the killing of John Wilkes Booth (April 26th),
simply "overshadowed" the Sultana disaster.
The Mississippi River, always changing its course, now flows about three miles
from the disaster site. All that remains of the Sultana lies some twenty feet
beneath a soybean field near the Tennessee-Arkansas border. Only a few relics
have been recovered, and it is not likely that an excavation will take place anytime soon – the cost is
simply too high. Many are okay with this, however, because the field is a
lasting memorial to those who lost their lives in the disaster. However, its
present-day sense of peace and isolation is negated by a lingering presence that
has terrified many people.
For years, tugboat captains on the Mississippi have reported seeing an orange
"glow" lingering above the field late at night. They say it resembles
the glow of a fire burning, and lasts for some time before slowly fading away.
This description coincides with what nearby residents have reported as well, including the notion that the field
feels warmer than the land that surrounds it. Most feel the apparition is a
residual haunting, where a "ghost ship" repeatedly lives out its final
hours; but others feel the phenomenon encompasses a much broader spectrum.
Hunters have reported screams, choking and other ghastly sounds in the area.
Some blame the elements, but most readily admit there is no natural explanation.
Others have reported seeing human-like apparitions, mostly disfigured and
scantily clad in old clothing, moving about the field and sifting through the
dirt just after daybreak. The figures are seen only a short time before
disappearing, usually into the dense fog that the Mississippi River bottomland
is known for. Many believe the figures are Sultana disaster victims searching
for their belongings, which are now buried under twenty feet of silt and clay.
With so many years having passed, it is hard, if not impossible, to comprehend
the pain and anguish felt by those who perished in this great tragedy. It is
doubtful that the Sultana will ever be recovered, and the tragedy will most
likely remain a long-forgotten footnote in the annals of American history; but
for some people, the ghastly apparitions and noises at the disaster site are the
only reminder necessary.
Postscript: The author spent several days in Memphis researching the Sultana
disaster back in 1999. Unable to find a contact number for permission to visit
the disaster site, he drove along nearby public roads to get a good feel for the
area. On his way back, when crossing the Mississippi only a few miles south of
the disaster site, he noticed a large sign at the Pyramid Exhibition Center,
which read, "Exhibit: Titanic - The World's Greatest Maritime Disaster." "Oh boy, how ironic is THAT!" he thought, shaking his
head slowly and saying aloud, "yeah, right, whatever you say -- do some
research next time!"
The Ghost of Chapel Hill
Situated among middle Tennessee's
rolling hills and storybook-quality farmland, the town of Chapel Hill is
the quintessential, "sleepy little Southern town." It modestly
boasts a school, a convenience store, several churches, a town square lined with
old, turn-of-the-century buildings, and a main drag dotted with mighty oaks and
older, well-kept homes that typify "Main Street, USA."
Literally, all that's missing is a Wal-Mart.
Morning brings the aroma of fresh bacon and eggs to the air, and most residents
are out and moving by 7 AM – some headed for work, some just getting in from
the night before, and others going to the café for a fix of coffee, grits, and
small-town gossip. A down-to-earth town like Chapel Hill isn't where one would
expect to encounter the paranormal, but certain events over the last 70 years
have led many to question its past.
The town sprang into existence in the late 1800s when the Louisville and
Nashville Railroad was built through the area. It became a major stop along the
Nashville-Birmingham segment and hosted a steady stream of passenger and freight
traffic for years; and, incidentally, most townspeople worked for the railroad.
Chapel Hill eventually suffered the same fate as many other "railroad
boomtowns," and now sees only a handful of freight trains pass its three
crossings each day.
One crossing, just north of town, has seen more than its fair share of tragedy
over the years. Several fatal automobile accidents and at least two train
derailments have occurred there. There are no trees or bushes to obstruct a
motorist's view of oncoming trains; the closest ones are some fifty feet from
the track. Despite that and a modernized crossing-gate system, loss of life
among drivers, pedestrians, and train crews has been very heavy at this
particular crossing.
Many believe the track north of town is haunted, and perhaps even cursed by, the
spirit of an early nineteenth century train conductor who was decapitated in a
freak accident.
The story goes back to a winter night, many years ago, when trains 1 and 2 were
scheduled to meet at a siding just north of town -- where the crossing is today.
Train 2's conductor switched the train into the siding where it would wait for
train 1 to pass. While waiting, he routinely inspected his train's critical parts and stationed himself on the
narrow stretch of gravel between the tracks so he could get underway quickly
once the other train passed.
The light from Train 1 soon came into view. It was moving fast, so as to make up
time and arrive in Nashville on schedule. The intense rumble caused the
conductor to lose his footing in the loose gravel and fall. His neck landed on
the rail beneath the passing train, and a lone "clunk" sound, much like a watermelon being chopped open, was
heard for a split second. No one realized what had happened, and Train 1
continued on its way.
Meanwhile, in train 2's locomotive, the engineer patiently awaited the
conductor's lantern signal indicating that they could proceed. He looked
out the window in both directions but saw nothing; he began sipping coffee to
recharge himself for the trip to Birmingham, some 140 miles away. Even with hot coffee and the steam engine's firebox burning just
a few feet away, he found it unusually hard to keep warm on this cold night.
Moreover, and to make matters worse, everything outside the cab seemed still and
dark; no lights of any kind, no sounds, no nothing; it was just a cold, dead night.
After fifteen minutes of waiting for the conductor's "all clear"
signal, and now running late, the engineer grew impatient and stepped outside
the locomotive to look for the conductor. He didn't see any sign of him, not
even a lantern or the faint light of a cigarette. He shouted the conductor's
name several times. Nothing. He shouted again; still nothing. While slowly
making his way toward the rear of the train, he found the conductor's lantern on
the ground next to the adjacent track.
As he inched closer, he noticed a smoky mist coming from the ground nearby and
figured the conductor had just finished a cigarette. But why didn't the
conductor answer his repeated calls? He soon discovered the conductor's
severed head, partially crushed and resting in an upright position. He also discovered that the "smoky
mist" was really steam, coming from the freshly severed head, as it
released heat into the frigid air.
The engineer was eventually able
to find help, but it was too late; the conductor's shift had officially ended,
so to speak. His head was also missing from the place where the engineer first
found it. Even to this day, no one knows what happened to the head, but wild
animals seem to be a reasonable possibility.
The siding is long gone, and a road now crosses the track at the site. It is in
a rural setting, amidst the woods and a few modest country homes. The only
sounds to be heard are a nearby hound dog's occasional late-night barks and the
crossing gate's bell ringing, sometimes for no reason at all. As peaceful and
laid-back as the area might seem, a male figure seen carrying a lantern down the
track late at night has frightened people for years.
The headless figure slowly wanders down the track for about a half-mile and
quickly fades away, usually not returning until the following night. The figure
seems oblivious to onlookers' shouts and flashlights, but quickly vanishes when
rocks are thrown or cameras are snapped. There have even been reports of the
figure passing onlookers as few as ten yards away, including a Nashville
television crew who managed to capture the phenomenon on film. Several witnesses
were on hand and said the TV crew did not "rig" anything.
The phenomenon isn't always a male figure confined to the railroad track; it
sometimes manifests in the form of a small, flickering light at the edge of the
nearby woods, usually accompanied by the sound of human footsteps. For years,
people have searched the nearby woods in hopes of catching the culprit, but to no avail. On one occasion,
onlookers were pelted with rocks when they tried to enter the woods. The next
day, the bruised sleuths returned to the site and found the rocks on the ground
where they had landed.
The apparitions, both on the railroad track and in the woods, occur
sporadically, and usually between the hours of 12:30 and 2:00 AM. There is
neither rhyme nor reason as to why these hours are special, but some think this
was when the conductor was decapitated, many years ago. Some careful research
would be needed to validate this hunch, but most researchers are more interested
in taking pictures -- and for a very good reason.
The site has produced its share of anomalous pictures over the years. It is not
uncommon for such things as human-shaped mist and orb showers to appear in
photographs taken of the site. On a few occasions, photos have shown streaks of
ectoplasm zigzagging across long stretches of the track!
In the year 2000, a Nashville author and investigator captured close-up footage
of the phenomenon in the form of an orb changing size and color before slowly
fading from sight. The first few seconds of the tape showed a large, grayish
colored orb moving from side to side and away from the camera. It soon turned to
a yellowish color and became larger the farther away it got. Finally, it became
a brownish, orange color before fading.
Attempts to explain what happens at the railroad track near the quaint little
town of Chapel Hill have been unnoticed for the most part; few people outside
the area know about the phenomenon. Some locals say the conductor's accident
never happened to begin with, whereas others, mostly the elderly, say they have heard their parents talk about
it when they were little. While quick to state that the accident happened as
told, most are hesitant to attribute the phenomenon to the conductor's
"ghost."
Others say the light is merely a reflection; they theorize that the headlight of
an oncoming train is reflected by a rock wall beside the track about a mile
north of the site. However, if that is the case, then why does one experience
the phenomenon and not see a train pass for hours?
We will most likely never know the origin of the mysterious figure walking the
railroad track and haunting the woods near Chapel Hill, Tennessee late at night,
but it, along with the numerous vehicle and train accidents that have occurred
there since the conductor was decapitated, leaves little room for anyone to dismiss it as a coincidence.
A note of caution: Do not visit Chapel Hill and attempt to find the site. The
local police patrol the area aggressively, and do not take kindly to
curiosity-seekers they aren't already friends with. Also, stay clear of all
railroad tracks; they are very dangerous and privately owned.
The Devil’s Tramping Ground
Situated in a dense forest near Siler City, North Carolina is a circle of barren land that has baffled curiosity-seekers and researchers alike for more than a century. Known as “The Devil’s Tramping Ground,” the well-defined circle measures about 21 feet in diameter and shows no signs of life other than a scant patch of weeds.
Attempts to grow plants inside the circle have been unsuccessful, even when experienced horticulturists were involved. But oddly enough, plants grow easily from seeds planted outside of the circle, even as close as one inch. Some people have concluded at face value that the phenomenon is linked to extraterrestrial entities because plant life is conspicuously absent from an otherwise fertile area. But by analyzing the case as a whole, we discover that the absence of plant life is only a small piece of a much larger phenomenon.
On several occasions, visitors who brought their pets along were astonished to learn that they wouldn’t venture into the circle, even when coaxed. In one such case, a man tugged his dog’s leash in the direction of the circle and the dog tugged harder in the opposite direction, as if spooked by something. The leash snapped and the terrified dog scampered back to the car with its tail tucked; it whimpered until they got home, two hours later. In another case, a family reported that their normally well-behaved dog began running back and forth around the circle’s edge for no apparent reason, barking and growling ferociously at something in the center.
One might dismiss these accounts as a simple case of household pets feeling uneasy in a strange environment, or perhaps sensing their owners’ uneasiness and becoming uneasy themselves; but oddly enough, even wild animals – the undisputed kings and queens of the forest – also shun the mysterious circle.
Area hunters say wild animals never go inside the circle, but go around it instead – even when food scraps are left in the middle. On one occasion, a hunter about a quarter mile from the site shot and wounded a deer. He followed the trail of blood all the way up to the circle’s edge, where the deer had abruptly changed its direction so as to bypass the circle. He followed the trail of blood around the circle’s edge until he was directly across the circle from where the deer first changed direction. It looked like the deer had made a perfect half circle around the spot and resumed its original direction. He found the deer a short distance away, and shot it a final time.
Why would a wounded animal that is trying to escape slow down to bypass the circle instead of crossing over it and possibly escaping? The deer felt that crossing an open piece of land would give the hunter an easier target. Okay. That’s fair and easy enough; but one must also wonder if the deer sensed less danger in being pursued by a hunter at close range than in having to cross the circle and confront the force that might reside there. It’s interesting to note that both plants and animals shun the circle, one because of growth elements and the other because of instinct.
Plants don’t grow there because, most likely, some physical growth element is either absent or overly abundant – although scientists have yet to pinpoint it. Animals, on the other hand, shun the circle not because of a growth element, but because of something they sense. A plant lives but possesses no intelligence or instinct of its own, but an animal does; yet it seems neither can function within the circle. The force is undoubtedly strong and multifaceted, as it seems to affect both plant and animal life – and other things as well.
Radios and cellphones frequently encounter reception problems inside the circle, but work fine outside of it. New batteries last no time inside the circle, but mysteriously come back to life when taken elsewhere. There are also reports of propane stoves and coal oil lanterns burning out prematurely when used inside of the circle. A few visitors even claim that items left in the circle at night are sometimes moved or completely gone by sunrise.
The mysterious circle was given its
popular name by Wilmington Morning Star reporter H.T. Ivy in his 1882 article
entitled, The Devil’s Tramping Ground.
Ivy’s article was the first commercially published account of the
phenomenon, and has since paved the way for over 25 newspaper articles, 15
books, and almost as many magazine articles.
Despite the attention it has received in modern times, The Devil’s
Tramping Ground has existed for many years.
Some accounts even date back to the early 1800s, when Native Americans
and early settlers told of strange happenings in the area and attributed them to
the mysterious circle.
For years, people have wondered when and how the circle was created, and most importantly, why. Unfortunately, research has yielded more questions than answers; and all we have to go by are far-fetched legends and some explanation attempts that fall short of proving anything. The most popular legend states that the Devil comes each night to pace in a circle as he plans evil deeds for the next day, and that the ground remains sterile because of his extreme heat.
A Native American legend states that a tribe once lived nearby and that its Chief was murdered in cold blood at what is now the center of the circle. He was reportedly so evil that his blood poisoned the ground where he fell, cursing it forever. A similar legend states that a Native American boy was hunting in the forest one day and happened upon a snake, which bit him, and he died on the spot. Those who found him performed a sacred ritual at the site of his demise, asking the spirits to ensure that no grass or animal ever be allowed on the spot again.
While these legends make for interesting and sometimes entertaining stories, they are practically impossible to prove. Many possible explanations have been presented over the years as well, but none without faults and contradictions. And because of the circle’s age, which is well over 100 years, it’s doubtful that anyone who saw what originally happened at the site – if anything at all – would still be living to tell about it.
One theory states that there was once a structure on the site and the soil didn’t return to a fertile state after the structure was removed. But local historians insist there has never been a structure at the site. It is also said that the North Carolina Department of Agriculture once tested the soil and found that its salt level was slightly elevated. While this seems good at face value, it doesn’t explain why animals shun the circle or why radios and cell phones often lose their signals inside the circle. And moreover, deer actually seem attracted to salt!
An independent scientist who recently visited the site also performed soil tests. He gathered samples from inside the circle, from its outer ring, and from an area outside the circle. Using scientific equipment, he conducted several analyses on the samples; they showed nothing out of the ordinary. As a final test, he placed each soil sample in its own small cup and planted something. Plants grew from the samples taken inside and outside of the circle, but not in the sample taken from the circle’s outer ring. While this might shed some light, its no different from any other research in that it yields more questions than answers. Why did plants grow in a cup filled with dirt taken from the site, but not in the very same dirt while it was at the site? If no plants grew in the dirt taken from the circle’s outer ring, can we conclude that the problem lies in just the outer ring – and not the area inside of the circle? But notwithstanding, the author is very impressed by this scientist’s research.
Another theory states that a UFO landed on the spot and caused the ground beneath it to “age” many years, back to a time when the area had little if any plant life. A similar idea states that the circle was the point of impact when a meteorite plummeted to earth, long ago.
Another theory states that a silo once stood on the site and grain residue over-fertilized the ground beneath it. While this theory seems logically sound, no one can remember a silo ever having been there; and like other theories, it doesn’t address the full spectrum of anomalies that occur there. Finally, and on a more humorous note, it has also been reported that a mule once lived at the site. He constantly walked in circles around the post he was tied to, causing the ground to erode beneath his feet and become sterile.
No one knows exactly what sterilizes the ground, spooks animals, and interferes with radio signals, or why the force is confined to such a small area; but one thing should be apparent by now – there is an anomaly of great proportion in the forest outside of Siler City, North Carolina. And while some might consider it just another urban legend, it is very real and unsettling to those who have visited the Devil’s Tramping Ground and encountered it. Something very powerful is there. Is it a geological force? Is it a self-countering force of nature? Perhaps it’s Old Lucifer himself, or little green men from Mars. Or maybe – just maybe – it could be one of the most powerful forces of all: The human imagination and a six-pack.
All excerpts Copyright (c) Pat Fitzhugh, 2005, All rights
reserved. Unauthorized
duplication prohibited by US and international copyright laws.
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