Haunted Houses and Family Ghosts of Kentucky

by William Lynwood Montell

  At this time, new library hours were introduced, including a Tuesday night story time. It was after one of these story times that I first became acquainted with our ghost.

  I had finished the program and had returned to the first floor circulation desk to prepare to close for the night. I was the only full-time staff member present, but there with two assistants, called pages, who were present.

  One of the pages was a young male high school student, who was always dedicated to his position and did his duties very well. He was asked to go upstairs to shelve a small amount of books and straighten up whatever was needed. I was aware that it was taking him longer than usual and was about to check on his whereabouts when he slowly came down the steps very pale and shaking from head to toe. “Never again will I work upstairs when it is dark,” he stated. In a voice that was quivering and weak, he told of a meeting with an older gentleman.

  He was in the gallery checking on the outside door when he felt a sudden coldness, as if someone were close by. Then a chilling hold came over his body, and he felt eyes looking at him. When he turned around, just inches away was a man with gray, almost white hair, dressed in a light gray suit and a maroon tie. Oh, yes, it was definitely a maroon tie!

  The ghostly figure seemed to control the young mans movement. Whenever he [the worker] would move, the figure would float in front of him, thus preventing him from leaving the second floor. A conversation was attempted. “Who are you?” “Why are you here?” “Where did you come from?” were some of the questions asked. It was then that the young page made his way down the stairs, wondering every step if the ghost was behind him.

  After we closed the library, I went upstairs to lock up. I did not believe in ghosts and what the young page had experienced. I could not explain it, but one thing was for sure. It was not a ghost!

  I found everything to be in order. All doors were secure and everything was in its place. As I turned to leave by way of the stairs, the office door behind me slammed with a loud bang, as if a strong gust of wind had blown it shut. This caused me to stop and stand still, as fear and coldness crept all through me. I thought to myself, I couldn’t have heard what I just heard, as I had personally just locked that door. Was it the ghost? Perhaps so.

  The page’s description of the figure fits the gentleman whose portrait hung for many years over the mantle in the small room. Sometime later, the local and Kentucky history materials were moved to another area and a children’s reference area was incorporated. The ghost appeared once more when more than one student asked to be moved to another location while studying. They all said that the eyes of the gray-haired man in the picture watched them, no matter where they sat in the room. One young girl complained of someone watching over her shoulder.

  My desk was positioned at the entrance to this room. On more than one occasion, a cold breeze has passed all around me and often was strong enough to move papers from my desk to the floor. When looking up to see who or what was passing by, I found no one. However, several times I did catch a glimpse of a figure leaving the room and entering the hallway.

  As years passed, I found it took more time for me to descend the steps. Many times, I felt I was moving too slowly and needed to move to one side to allow someone to pass me. When I turned to speak or to apologize for taking up too much space, no one would be there, but I could feel their presence.

  The library is nearly always cleaned after closing. This takes place around or after 9:00 p.m. Our “resident” has put much joy in playing tricks on a cleaning lady. His favorite game was to move her cleaning supplies from one floor to another, while she was actually using them. But the “lost keys” game is one she will never forget.

  When finishing for the night and ready to go home, her keys were nowhere to be found. She always put them in the same spot after unlocking the door to let herself in. On this one particular night, they were missing. Knowing that she could not leave the building until the doors were all locked, the search began. Every possible hiding place was looked into more than one time. She spent much time searching. Finally, she considered an alternative, like calling an employee for help. But finally, there the keys lay, in a part of the library where keys were not needed, and far away from their usual place. Why would they be in a place not regularly cleaned?

  Other employees have misplaced keys often, always after they enter the building. Some were never found, and on one occasion the locks had been changed.

  I recently retired from my library position. I still question myself about believing in ghosts, but our “resident ghost” is most convincing. He is a source of pleasure. No one but our page has ever been frightened.

  Do you know what I hope? I hope the ghost will stay forever.

  99. “The Crying of a Little Girl’s Ghost”

  Graves County

  In the 1950s a vacant house was still standing on the corner of Eighth and College Streets over in Mayfield. Years ago, a little girl had died of burns received in that old house. Nobody lived there for many years because a child would often be heard crying in the house.

  Some people who lived in the vicinity said that they sometimes heard the cries. They would walk blocks out of their way rather than pass the old house after dark. After the house was torn down, the sounds were never heard again.

  100. “The House Haunted by a Murdered Woman”

  Fulton County

  Back in the 1940s we moved to a place over near Cayce in Fulton County. It was a rather nice house but odd in that the kitchen was at the front of the house. Mother and Daddy moved the kitchen to the back of the house and papered and painted its former site, which became my bedroom. Each morning I woke to the smell of coffee perking and bacon frying.

  One day a man came by to buy a cow from Daddy, and asked if we had been bothered by ghosts. Daddy wondered why he would ask such a question.

  The man said that the house was haunted. He went on to say that an early owner of the farm had shot and killed his wife one morning as she prepared breakfast. For many years after that, strange mournful sounds could be heard there in the house, as well as dishes rattling and pots and pans banging.

  101. “A Lady in White in an Old House”

  Christian County

  Christian County was right on the border of the Confederate and Union lines during the Civil War. This old house on my father’s side of the family was built in 1846. The original owners were the Summers. There were several slave houses on the farm there back during slavery times. Eventually, a tornado came through and blew them all down. And since this farm and these houses were on the Union-Confederate boundary line, the Summers family had to build trapdoors in the floor so they could hide the slaves from the soldiers who would come through to check the house. If you go into the attic, you will see this old fireplace. And if you look close you can see the names of slaves carved into the mortar. It is so interesting to me to be able to see the names of those slaves carved there.

  I know of at least three deaths in this old house. They were Mrs. Summers, a young baby, and Uncle Jack Green’s first wife. And by the way, there is also an old family cemetery behind the house where the Summers family members are buried, as well as a few of their slaves.

  This past summer, I had some friends over to play cards. They all left around 2:00 A.M., but I had to take one of them home after I cleaned things up there in the house. I was walking into the kitchen when I heard my friend back in the den call my name.

  I went to the den to see what he wanted, but he was standing in the doorway in the den that leads into the entrance hall. When I asked him what he was doing, he wanted to know if I was in the kitchen the whole time. When I told him that I was, his face turned as white as snow. I asked him what was wrong, but he told me not to worry about it.

  Deep inside I knew what had happened. I finally got him to tell me what he saw. He told me that he saw a white figure dressed in a long white dress walk from the dining room to the living room. As soon as he told me this, I totall
y freaked out. So I set the alarm. I knew it would go off if someone were really in the house. I got ready to leave the old house. From there I went to Mena and Daddy Jewell’s house to spend the night.

  The next morning I told Mena about our experience in the old house the night before. I had told her about other things I had encountered in the old house, but she never really had anything to say about my experiences. But this time she told me something shocking!

  Mena had been real good friends with Uncle Jacks first wife—the woman who died in the house. Mena told me that Mrs. Green had told her about the times she had seen this lady’s figure that looked just like what my friend saw last night.

  This let me know right then and there that what my friend had seen was very real. I had never heard any stories about this lady walking around the house until my friend saw her and Mena told me the things that Mrs. Green had always told her.

  102. “Ghostly Lights, Sounds, and Touches”

  Christian County

  This happened to me about ten or eleven years ago. See, there was a baby that died in this old house we lived in here in Christian County. It died in what was to later become my sister’s bedroom.

  One night I woke up right in the middle of the night. It was totally dark outside, but my room was lit up with a small ball of light that floated around the room. I thought my contact lenses were causing my eyes to be blurry, but when I rubbed my eyes, the light was still there in the room with me. I was terrified! I pulled the covers over my head and was finally able to go to sleep.

  The next morning, my sister Serena mentioned seeing a ball of light just like what I saw that night. I didn’t know what to think about it, but I refused to sleep upstairs the next night.

  My ex-stepmother also had an experience at the house. She was out in the garden working in her flowers when she said she felt someone push her face first into the ground. She said that she could actually feel the individual’s fingers on her shoulder. She turned around to see who it was, but nobody was there. That sort of freaked her out, so she didn’t speak very much about that encounter.

  Another time when we experienced something was a little before Christmas twelve or fifteen years ago. We set the alarm before we left to go to Nashville to do our Christmas shopping. When we got back home, our Christmas tree was turned over. We immediately thought that the alarm should have gone off—the motion detector should have picked up on something, and if that didn’t catch it, the sound detector should have set off the alarm.

  Anyway, as we walked around the house we noticed that all the pictures of my sister, dad, and myself were all turned over, face down. Nothing else in the house was disturbed.

  To this day, Serena will not sleep upstairs unless she has someone with her. I, on the other hand, I feel at peace with the ghosts. I have come to the conclusion that the ghost or spirits are not dangerous because if they were going to hurt me, they would have done it by now. Admittedly, whenever I have an experience with a ghost in my house, I am somewhat scared, but I eventually calm down and go on as normal.

  103. “The Covington Woman Who Died in Bitterness”

  Kenton County

  …. A young man, destined for the U.S. Senate, carried his bride over the threshold of the new home on Second Street. It was a beautiful house with its graceful, paneled staircase and pillared porch. The young woman took pride in her home, raised a son and a daughter, and created a reputation for the most lavish entertaining in all the Ohio Valley. It is said on good family authority that General Marquis de Lafayette was once entertained there.

  The carved Italian table in the large entrance hall held many calling cards on “at home” days, deposited gently by white-gloved hands. In an era of gracious and leisurely living, the house on Second Street was famous for its hospitality and the slight woman who graced it.

  The two children were grown and married when, inevitably, a funeral wreath appeared on the door and all Covington mourned the senator. But before the wreath could be removed questions and surmises ran through Covington like wildfire. The house that had been the focal point of social gatherings for years was to be sold by the son-in-law, and its chatelaine of so many years was to live with her son. The gracious hostess was now to become a guest… but the events leading to this remain the family’s concern.

  The house was sold, yet the pillar-straight, grey-silked, grey-haired old lady would never quite admit its loss. She continued to regard it as her home, and if others lived there, her heart refused to accept the fact. Eventually the time came when the plot next to the Senator was filled, and as mourning attire was returned to tall closets in other Covington homes, the same discreet guesses were made as to why the funeral wreath had not been displayed on the door of the stately house on Second Street.

  That might be the end of the story. Certainly, families have had disagreements before. Certainly countless woman have died in bitter disappointment. But if a determined woman is arbitrarily transplanted from a home that she loved, if she refused to accept during her lifetime the idea of anyone else living in her home, then after her lifetime …

  It is said by those who lived in the house since, that through a panel on the staircase, there has appeared a woman dressed in grey silk, wearing a black bonnet. Hand on railing, she descends the stairs, stands at the bottom for an instant looking around the grand entrance hall, then up the stairs, fading away … leaving only the whisper of grey silk lingering in the air.

  104. “The Woman Who Passed Away in Grief”

  Kenton County

  There is a street in Covington where the shaded curbs still are high enough to permit a gentleman to dismount from his horse with grace. On soft, summer afternoons one can almost expect to see lace-mitted belles with parasols, chattering down broad steps from the mellow brick homes.

  It is a different street at night, when the Ohio River is as restless as the wind-driven clouds above. The old houses hold their secrets closely, and seem to wait.

  Some say the sound is merely the great old trees dueling in the wind. But others, who have heard the old tales, look at each other and say, “He’s about again.” And the sound could also be hoofbeats, a hollow tattoo echoing over the fitfully lighted street.

  The lady of this story was one of the loveliest belles of Covington. Her dance card at the balls was a “who’s who of the most eligible bachelors of the city.” She had her choice of beaux and escorts. But the field soon was narrowed, until only a black mare was seen tied to the iron-ringed hitching post in front of the red brick home with its gleaming fan lights and white, coffered doors.

  The night before the wedding was rough and stormy, by what was rain and wind. But that was the last night they would be separated, even into eternity.

  The bride-to-be heard the quick hoofbeats and ran to the door. The light flooded into the street, and the racing mare shied at the sudden brightness, reared up, throwing her rider to the ground. The wind tugged at his cape, but the man lay still.

  Instead of a white wedding carriage—a sable hearse and dark-plumed horses. Instead of a bride, a wan girl who lay in a room where the shutters were never opened. And soon the bands that were to have carried roses, held lilies.

  Everyone agrees that when the wind and the rain pounds in the night, the sound is the trees. But no one goes to the window to see.

  105. “Young’s Bed and Breakfast”

  Carroll County

  During the 1800s, many homes were built in and around McCoul’s Creek, later Ghent, and most of them are still used as residences today.

  In 1833 Theodore Fisher built a fine Federal-style two-story brick for his wife, Judith Tompkins. There were spacious rooms and a lovely garden on the north side. In the 160 years, several families have lived there.

  Alfred and Leona Carlton stayed there a few years during the 1950s. They felt somehow they had another guest in the house most of the time. Every night they securely latched an inside door upstairs, and every morning the door was open. They also rem
ember an incident in the dining room when a pitcher sitting there, suddenly shattered. No explanation for either happening.

  In 1990 Mr. and Mrs. Wayne Young purchased this big house and began plans for a Bed and Breakfast. They hired a carpenter to renovate an upstairs bathroom, and one evening while work was in progress, the carpenter felt that someone was watching him. Looking around he saw two faces at the window.

  He went downstairs, searched the area, saw no one, and returned to the bathroom to finish his work. In a few minutes the same two faces appeared again at the same window. Immediately, he gathered his tools and beat it out of the house. Talking with Mr. Young, he commented, “We have enjoyed living here for three years, and to my knowledge have not encountered any unusual specters.”

  Mr. and Mrs. Carlton moved across the street after living at the Fisher residence, to a home formerly owned by Mr. and Mrs. Sam Brown. Doc Brown was a family physician to local citizens of the town for more than forty years until his death in the 1960s. His wife continued living there until her death.

  Doc had used the two rooms west of the front hall for his waiting room and office. Even now there are still unusual noises in that section of the home when everything is quiet at night.

  Must be that it is Doc straightening his implements and medicine bottles.

  106. “Ghostly Sounds”

  Taylor County

  Several ghostly incidents have occurred at the house where I reside. The first that I recall took place during the first year that I lived there. That was in 1966, and I was in the basement with no one else there at home but me. My husband was at work, and the children had either gone to school, or had gone somewhere. I heard distinct footsteps walking across the living room floor and thought it was my husband coming in for something. I thought he would come down in a minute and tell me that he was there, but he didn’t.