Category: Stories

St. Clair’s Bottom: A Name Rooted in Early Settlement

November 26, 2025November 26, 2025 Admin No Comments

The place we know today as St. Clair’s Bottom carries with it layers of history, memory, and shifting spellings. The name itself is believed to honor Charles Sinclair (1717–1766), an early settler whose presence along the South Fork of the Holston River left a lasting mark on the region. Over time, the name has appeared in several forms—St. Clair, Sinclair, Sinkler, and others—reflecting both the fluidity of spelling in the 18th century and the oral traditions that carried family names across generations. Charles Sinclair owned just under 1,000 acres along the South Fork of the Holston River, land that was surveyed in the 1740s. Records also place him along Reed Creek in present-day Wythe County during that same decade. How these two tracts of land connected in his life remains a question for further research, but together they show the breadth of Sinclair’s presence in Southwest Virginia during the frontier era. Local tradition suggests that families with the surnames Bonham or Bottom may have been associated with Sinclair or the area that came to bear his name. While the exact relationship is unclear, these connections hint at the complex web of kinship and settlement that shaped early communities along the Holston. In 1755, amid the turbulence of frontier life, Charles Sinclair and his family fled Virginia for Orange County, North Carolina. It was there that his will was later probated by his wife, Ann. After his death, Ann eventually returned with the family to Virginia, reestablishing ties to the land and community that had once been theirs. Tradition holds that Charles Sinclair was buried in the Primitive Baptist Church Cemetery near St. Clair’s Bottom. If true, his resting place anchors the story of the man whose name continues to define the area. St. Clair’s Bottom is more than a name on a map—it is a reminder of the families who carved out lives along the Holston River, endured upheaval, and returned to leave their mark on Virginia’s landscape. As with much of our local history, questions remain: How exactly did Sinclair’s Reed Creek land relate to his Holston River holdings? What role did the Bonhams and Bottoms play in the naming of the area? By piecing together land records, wills, and oral traditions, we continue to uncover the story of St. Clair’s Bottom—a story that belongs not only to the Sinclair family, but to the wider community that grew from these early roots.

Bonham, Primitive Baptist Church, St. Clair, St. Clair's Bottom, Stories

Dr. Goodridge Wilson On Our History

November 5, 2025November 1, 2025 Admin No Comments

Early Settlers Were Attracted to Smyth County’s Rye Valley Rye Valley lies over the mountain to the south of Smyth County. State Route 16, the B. F. Buchanan Highway, coming from the north over Clinch, Brushy, and Walker mountains, passes through Hungry Mother Park, Marion, and Attaway, over another Brushy Mountain, and enters a locality where rye was growing in abundance when the first white men came to this region. That weed is smaller than the cultivated rye but resembles it, and is said to make fairly good horse and cattle food. The pioneers seemed to have liked the plant, perhaps because it grew so well here. Prior to or during the Revolutionary War they gave it its name not only the beautiful valley where the South Fork of Holston starts but also to Rye Bottom on Big Walker Creek, and to Rye Cove in Scott County. The valley is narrow. The high crosses it quickly at a little climbing the steep sides of Iron Mountain and on across Grayson County to North Carolina. The first pioneers who acquired land in Rye Valley appear to have been Joseph and Esther Crockett, enterprising land speculators, who were not husband and wife, but business associates whose names appear together on a number of documents. The late Squire Robert Ward of Sugar Grove, a descendant of one of them, showed me a deed dated in 1753 by which the king of England conveyed the land about the head springs of the South Fork of Holston to Joseph and Esther Crockett. Mr. Ward’s name was included in that grant. His grandfather, a Rev. Crockett, bought it from a James or a Nelson, Joseph and Esther Crockett, or their heirs, had sold the original tract to some families in Virginia and to Nelson families who came from Virginia and they became the first actual settlers in the iron region where three mountain brooks join their waters with those of a number of bold springs in level meadows to form the South Fork of Holston. Two of the brooks, Dickey’s Creek and Cress Creek, come out of Iron Mountain, and the third, Slemp Creek, tumbles into the valley from Brushy Mountain. In this valley meadows a forest of fine sugar maple trees grew. While I was living in Marion back in the 1920s and 30s I would go there sometimes to fish for trout, to visit in some homes, or to conduct a religious service in a public school. At that time two splendid groves, remnants of that ancient maple forest, provided wonderful picnic grounds and ideal places for all-day gatherings as Baptist Association meetings. They gave the community its name, Sugar Grove. Now the groves are gone, and much beauty formerly belonging to this place of many waters faded with the passing of those great trees. Perhaps the first permanent settler in Rye Valley was Jenkins Williams, who settled on land downstream from and immediately adjoining the original Joseph and Esther Crockett survey. When I lived in Marion his descendants in the seventh generation were living on that land. When I went to Marion one of them, a lad in knee pants, lived with his widowed mother across the street from me. He now lives in Richmond and is well known over the state as Robert Williams, executive secretary of the Virginia Education Association, a well-authenticated fact, who made his home here since 1754 when rescuers were trailing marauding Indians and found the dead body of Mrs. Samuel Stalnaker beside a creek, with her infant child crying “Hungry Manny,” they went to warn the family of a settler near the site of Sugar Grove, and left the child with that family. That settler may have been Jenkins Williams. In 1776 John Griffiths came from Pennsylvania and settled in Rye Valley. When I made a sightseeing tour in that section a few weeks ago, B.H. Griffiths of Marion went with me. He was born and grew up with his father’s name in a house that stands on the site of a log house in which the Griffiths settle of 1776 lived. Among other things he showed me some skillful doing masonry work and some lengths of old iron water piping, on a hillside above the South Fork of Holston. These are the remnants of a lead mining and smelting operation conducted there around the turn of the century. An iron working industry was started in Rye Valley early in the pioneer period. Jenkins Williams had a forge on the South Fork in which, among other items, he manufactured barrels for rifles used by Revolutionary War soldiers. A Pierce family engaged in iron working in the valley through successive generations. The Rev. Lewis Wetzel Pierce, a Methodist minister widely known throughout Southwest Virginia as a pastor of churches and as a former agent for the Children’s Home Society of Virginia, is now retired and lives in Bristol. He says that his great-grandfather, Moses Pierce, a Quaker, came from North Carolina and established an iron forge near the mouth of Comers Creek. His grandfather and his father were iron workers at Sugar Grove, He was born on inherited a farm located on the west side of Slemp Creek, which his grandfather bought from Jonathan Slemp. The Slemp’s, Frederick and Jonathan acquired land on the south side of Brushy Mountain in 1804. Mr. Pierce says that Jonathan’s land was on the west side of the mountain between Crockett and Frederick’s on the east side. Frederick stayed and his descendants are still in that section. Jonathan sold his land to Alexander Wilson Pierce and his descendants, Col. Camp, who represented that area in Congress from the 9th Virginia District. The Brushy Mountain land is still called Slemp’s Creek.

Communities, Crockett, Families, Genaology, Griffitts, History, History Keepers, James, Native American, Nelson, Pierce, Roberts, Stories, Sugar Grove, Teas, Ward, Williams

Urban Legends: Octagon House Hauntings

February 16, 2025February 16, 2025 Admin No Comments

DISCLAIMER: 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗅𝗈𝗐𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝖾𝗑𝗉𝗅𝗈𝗋𝖾𝗌 multiple urban legends. 𝖯𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍𝖾 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌 𝖽𝖾𝗌𝖼𝗋𝗂𝖻𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗉𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝖿𝗈𝗅𝗄𝗅𝗈𝗋𝖾, 𝗆𝗒𝗍𝗁, 𝗈𝗋 𝗎𝗇𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗂𝖿𝗂𝖾𝖽 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗈𝗎𝗇𝗍𝗌, 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗂𝗋𝗆𝖾𝖽 𝖿𝖺𝖼𝗍𝗌. 𝖱𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝖼𝗋𝖾𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝖽𝗏𝗂𝗌𝖾𝖽, 𝖺𝗌 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗅𝗌 𝗆𝖺𝗒 𝖻𝖾 𝗎𝗇𝗌𝖾𝗍𝗍𝗅𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗋 𝖽𝗂𝗌𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖻𝗂𝗇𝗀. 𝖳𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝗍𝗂𝖼𝗅𝖾 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝗇𝗈𝗍 𝖻𝖾 𝗍𝖺𝗄𝖾𝗇 𝖺𝗌 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝖼𝖼𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝖽𝖾𝗉𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇 𝗈𝖿 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗅 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇𝗍𝗌. There are several urban legend-like stories that have been around for decades surrounding the Octagon House. These tales have almost become a part of local culture, at least with people of a certain age group. Let’s explore some of these tales. We have an actual brief history of the Octagon House HERE if you would like to read about the factual history before you embark upon the local stories. Abijah’s Ghost Walk On December 1st, it is said that the ghost of Abijah Thomas appears at dusk as an eerie blue-white glow, moving between the remains of his beloved octagonal house, Mountainview, and the Thomas family cemetery just up the hill, where his grave is located. It is believed that he returns on the anniversary of his unexpected death to check on his cherished home. The sightings are not interactive, and all reports suggest that this is a residual haunting rather than an active one. This ghost story is perhaps one of the longest standing stories to be passed around locally. The Cellar The cellar is often regarded as the most haunted spot on the property and is the focal point of numerous tales of malevolent paranormal encounters. It is said to have been the site where slaves were beaten for failing to perform their work properly. Various versions of the story have circulated, but the most widely known claims that if you stand on the ground behind the house, where the cellar once was, after sunset, you will be confronted by an evil spirit that demands you leave the property. Those who do not heed the warning may suffer physical harm. Other accounts suggest that visitors can hear the anguished screams of those who died on the property, emanating from this mysterious cellar. This version also ends with the evil spirit confronting those present, urging them to depart. Some people feel compelled to bring a rosary, crucifix, or other spiritual items for protection if they dare to visit the location. It is factually known that there was no evidence of a cellar found anywhere around the house and specifically not at the rear of the house near the back door as most of these tales indicate. Additionally, according to various local historical sources, many of the slaves who were owned by Abijah Thomas remained there after slavery was abolished following the Civil War and done so because they were treated well by the family. The Dark Room The dark room was another area on the property known for paranormal activity. Located on the second floor at the top of the stairs, it was centrally situated in the house. The room had no windows and only one door. Popular stories about it included rattling chains, eerie screams, slamming locking doors and blood stains on the floor and walls. It was said to have been a place where slaves, and sometimes even the Thomas children, were punished—locked away for long periods without food. Given its location on the second floor, attempting to access the room, especially in the dark, would have been dangerous—particularly during the time when people dared to enter the house after it had been condemned. The room itself was oddly sized, making it suitable for storage as it was intended. While no blood stains were found on the remaining white plaster walls, there were dark stains on the floorboards. However, it was determined these were not blood stains, but rather food stains from canned goods that had either broken or spoiled, leaving the dark stains. Priscilla Thompson, the daughter of Abijah Thomas, clarified in writing that the room had always been used for storage and that no one was ever punished there. She also mentioned that when the door was open, enough light came through to see whatever one was looking for in the room. This writing was reproduced in the article about the octagon house. The Ghost Who Threw People Out the Window As early as the late 1990s, a popular story began circulating about an especially angry spirit said to haunt the Octagon House. The tale was linked to a broken window on the second floor at the back of the house. A particularly jagged shard of glass remained hanging in the window frame, having not fallen out. According to the story, the spirit that haunted the second floor and guarded the dark room was so enraged by a trespasser who could not be convinced to leave, that it hurled them out of the window, throwing them from the second story with an unseen force, effectively ejecting them from the house. This became a widely circulated tale, often used to warn people to stay away from the second floor. While there are no verified reports of anyone actually being thrown out of a second-story window, countless stories have been passed down through the years about people—mostly young adults—visiting the property as a sort of rite of passage. Many went there in groups for a thrill, to get scared, or to drink and smoke pot. It’s possible that someone could have fallen out of the window, though it likely went unreported, possibly to avoid trespassing charges or other consequences. The Sign Of The Cross This story dates back to 2002. One evening, a group of high school students from Marion, along with a few from Sugar Grove, decided to visit the Octagon House just before sunset. Their goal was to explore the house and see if the rumors about it being haunted were true. They even considered holding a séance to see if they could provoke any paranormal activity. To avoid getting caught, they arranged for a friend to drop them off,…

Stories, Thomas, Thomas Bridge

The Wreck of the Number 9- A Day In The History of the Marion Rye Valley Railroad

February 4, 2025February 4, 2025 Admin No Comments

September 10, 1912 began like most other days, the crew boarded a boxcar coupled to the #9 Shay in Fariwood and headed up to their work site on Pine Mountain. Kent Steffey was a seasoned 45-year-old engineer, respected for his skill and experience. A proud member of the Brotherhood of Engineers Union, and a native of Wythe County who had relocated along with his wife to Wilson Creek, Grayson County. Steffey worked for Spruce Lumber Company. He was known for his dedication to his work, and on the fateful day in September, he was once again at the helm of Shay locomotive #9, taking on the daunting task of navigating Pine Mountain. The journey from Fairwood to the top of Pine Mountain was no small feat. Spanning about five miles, it took roughly an hour for Steffey to guide the massive locomotive up the switchback. The logging crew was dropped off and Steffey’s train was turned to begin its descent. It was here that things took a tragic and unexpected turn. As the train began its descent down the mountain, which featured a steep 6% grade, Steffey applied the brakes, expecting to slow the heavy load. However, to his horror, there were no brakes. The train began to pick up speed rapidly, and Steffey realized the full extent of the danger. Without brakes, he was helpless to slow the train as it hurtled downhill. He whistled to the back of the train to alert the Fireman. The train reached dangerous speeds, and the situation worsened as gears started stripping off the wheels, further reducing the train’s resistance. At this point, Steffey’s options were limited. In a desperate attempt to alert the crew and prevent a disaster, the fireman, Nute Bateman, tied off the whistle to signal impending doom. Bateman, fearing for his life, jumped off the train, narrowly escaping the impending crash and certain death. Meanwhile, Fields Anderson, the conductor, managed to lock the brakes on the last car in a last-ditch effort to stop the train. Realizing they had no chance of stopping the runaway train, Anderson also jumped, watching helplessly as the train sped away around the bend. Both Bateman and Anderson survived, though they could do nothing but watch in horror as the train disappeared around a curve in the mountain. Moments later, the sound of a horrific crash echoed across the valley. The two men rushed to the scene of the wreck, which wasn’t far from where they had jumped. As they approached, they saw the twisted, mangled wreckage of the train, derailed and overturned on its side. The wreck was a scene of utter devastation. Steffey, however, was not immediately found. It wasn’t until later that his body was discovered, crushed beneath the boiler of the 65-ton Shay locomotive. Kent Steffey’s death was a tragic loss. He was survived by his wife, Emma, and their four children: Mabel, Ruth, Virginia, and Mary. His passing left a deep void in the community, especially for his family and colleagues at Spruce Lumber Company. Despite the danger he faced, Steffey’s courage and quick thinking during his final moments, as well as the brave actions of his crew members, remain a testament to the sacrifices made by railroad workers every day. All that remains is his tombstone in Rural Retreat, Va., and this ballad, “The Wreck of Ole Number Nine.” Kent Steffey was an engineer, the best one on the line. Each morning he’d leave Fairwood with his Engine Number Nine. To the mountains he would go, making sure to run on time, Not knowing that his fate relied on his lucky Number Nine. Fields Anderson was conductor on that fateful day. The autumn sun shone brightly, painting the world in gay display. Beneath the clear, blue sky, no hint of danger lay, But the engine’s brakes refused to work, and Kent’s train ran away. “On brakes, on brakes!” he whistled, but the brakemen were all gone, And the fireman, Nute Bateman, thinking of his home, Leaped from the cab to save his life, as Nine dashed madly on. Still on the rails, the bell began its mournful clang, And across the mountain air, the sorrowful whistle rang. ‘Farewell, farewell,’ it seemed to say, and the wheels sang death’s song. It struck the curve with awful force, and from the rails she sprang. Beneath the wreck, now cold and still, the engineer was found, His body crushed and mangled, buried beneath the ground. Now poor Kent is sleeping beneath the mountain sod, His body cold and buried, but his soul has gone to God. ~Anonymous

History, Industry, Railroad, Stories

The Life of Mary Pickle: Part 2

December 2, 2024December 2, 2024 Admin No Comments

Introduction to Part 2 Mary Pickle lived in the Teas community for the majority of her life, yet little was known about her at the time the original article, The Life of Mary Pickle: From Smyth County Almshouse to Teas, Virginia, was published. The piece offered only a few facts and a photograph that did not reveal her face. Recently, however, additional details have emerged through newly found research conducted by Donald Harrington, which further illuminate her story. Jennie Shinault Williams Jennie Shinault Williams was born on August 22, 1855. Her husband, John Williams, was born on December 15, 1838, and passed away on November 22, 1910, ten years after Martha came to live with them. After his death, Jennie was left to support herself and Martha, the young girl whom John’s brother had entrusted to their care. The family resided in a large, two-story house near the river in Teas, Virginia. John Williams, a medical doctor who served in the Civil War, was injured by a bullet in his leg, which left him with a permanent limp. After her husband’s passing, Jennie needed a reliable source of income to cover living expenses, taxes, and the everyday necessities of life. A new industry had emerged in the community, bringing many workers in need of housing. With a large house and extra rooms available, Jennie decided to take in boarders and provide meals. This decision added to her workload, shared with Martha, but it was a practical way to sustain their household. As part of her efforts, Jennie approached the superintendent of the Smyth County Poorhouse to inquire about taking in a resident to help with the chores and farm work in exchange for their upkeep. The superintendent agreed, and three young people were sent to live with Jennie and Martha. One of these was a boy named Ed Godfrey. He stayed with the Williams family for a time before finding work at the nearby Extract plant. Later, Ed married Zenna Rector, a local girl, and moved to Northfork, West Virginia. He returned to visit Jennie on occasion and kept in touch through letters. Another young person who came to live with Jennie was Emma Osborn. She eventually married John Wilkerson, who ran a small country store about three miles from Sugar Grove, on Cedar Springs Road. Jennie married three times in her life. Her second husband was Alonzo Greear from Grant, Virginia, in Grayson County, and her third husband was Robert Young, from Troutdale. Throughout her three marriages, Mary Pickle remained a constant presence in Jennie’s household, either as a guest or as a helper. This explains her continued residence with Jennie, even as her family grew and changed. Mary stayed with Jennie until Jennie’s health began to decline, at which point they moved in with Martha, who was married and had her own family. Mary Pickle came to live with Jennie and Martha. She had a learning disability and was unable to support herself. She did not know her parents or where or when she was born. Mary was about 15 or 16 years old when she joined the Williams household. She was diligent about keeping the house clean, although she never learned to cook. She loved washing dishes and would gather eggs from the hen house in the afternoon. Mary also took the kitchen scraps to the hogs. One year, they had an unusually large hog, and Mary told the family that it was as big as a “hippo totus.” A willing worker, Mary did whatever was asked of her. Like many farm families, they kept milk cows, so it was necessary for someone to churn the sour cream into butter—a task Mary took on. Mary, like many women of the time, wore a bonnet and apron, both made by someone else. She was very particular about her bonnet and apron and insisted on wearing them all the time. Mary stayed with Jennie until Jennie’s health began to decline. By then, Martha had married Roy Griffitts and had a family of her own. Martha, however, could not turn away her old friend Mary. She welcomed her into her home, where Mary lived until her death. Although Mary never learned to read or write, she had a basic understanding of money and took great pride in the small amount she was given, often showing it off to others. However, she was not able to go to a store or make purchases on her own. Mary was a hardworking and pleasant person to be around. She helped with the family garden and contributed in many ways. She passed away in 1951 and was buried in the Teas Cemetery. Martha purchased a headstone and had it placed on her grave. The photo at the top of the article shows a younger Mary Pickle. This photo was contributed from those collected by Donald Harrington in his research. Additionally, much of the information in this article was transcribed from his original writings.

Communities, Families, Griffitts, Harrington, Poor Farm, Pugh, Stories, Teas, Williams

The Life of Mary Pickle: From Smyth County Almshouse to Teas, Virginia

November 14, 2024December 3, 2024 Admin No Comments

The Life of Mary Pickle: From Smyth County Almshouse to Teas, Virginia The story of Mary Pickle, a woman who lived much of her life in the care of others, is a poignant reminder of the challenges faced by those who found themselves on the margins of society in the early20th century. Born in 1875, Mary’s life took a path shaped by circumstance, moving from household to household, and ultimately finding a final resting place in the small community of Teas, Virginia. Early Years and the Smyth County Almshouse Mary Pickle’s early years are shrouded in mystery. The precise date of her birth is unknown, and records of her parents are scant, leading some to believe she may have been an orphan. By 1900, at the age of 15, Mary was already contributing to a household as a “servant.” The U.S. Census for that year lists her as a servant in the home of Thomas Gardner in the Marion District, an indication that she was working to support herself at a young age. By 1910, Mary was 35 years old and found living in a very different setting—at the Smyth County Almshouse, also known as the Poor Farm. Located on Slabtown Road near the community of Teas, the almshouse was a place of refuge for those in need, providing food, shelter, and care to the poor, elderly, and infirm. The 1910 census records Mary as an “inmate” of the almshouse, indicating that she had fallen on hard times by this point in her life. It is also noted that she was single at the time, though little else is known about her personal circumstances. A New Life in Teas By 1940, when Mary was in her mid-60s, she had moved from the almshouse to the home of Martha Griffitts in Teas, Virginia, where she was listed as a “lodger” in the U.S. Census. According to a handwritten history by Lucille Kinkade, Mary lived with the Griffitts family for several years, likely providing domestic help in exchange for room and board. In fact, it was in this home that Mary would spend the final years of her life. Mary’s relationship with the Griffitts family was close, and by the time of her death in 1951, Martha Griffitts was listed as the informant on her death certificate. The certificate reveals that Mary had been suffering from a heart condition for several years before her passing. She died at the age of approximately 80, of a coronary, in the Griffitts household in Teas. Although Mary had never married and had no known children, she appears to have been a part of the Griffitts household in her later years, possibly acting as a housekeeper for Martha and her family. A Life Remembered Mary Pickle was buried in the Pugh Cemetery in Teas, Virginia, a small resting place in the rural community where she spent her final years. Despite her years of service to others and the hardship she endured, Mary’s life is remembered as one of quiet resilience, marked by the kindness of those who took her in. The exact details of Mary Pickle’s early life remain unclear—her parentage is unknown, and there are no surviving records of her childhood or family. However, the records that do exist offer a glimpse into the life of a woman who navigated difficult circumstances with an enduring strength. From her time at the Smyth County Almshouse to her years as a lodger in Teas, Mary’s story is emblematic of the many forgotten lives that shaped the fabric of rural Virginia during a time of great social and economic change. Mary Pickle’s death in 1951 marks the end of a chapter in the history of the Smyth County Almshouse and the community of Teas, Virginia—a community where, even in times of need, the bonds of family and neighborly care could offer a semblance of comfort and home. Her life, though humble and filled with hardship, remains an important part of the local history, a reminder of the forgotten stories of those who lived in the shadows of larger societal narratives. Read Part 2 Here

Communities, Families, Griffitts, Poor Farm, Pugh, Stories, Teas

The Connection Between The Morgan Cemetery and Ridgelawn Cemetery

September 11, 2024September 14, 2024 Admin 3 Comments

In the charming community of Teas, a very old and historic cemetery stands quietly on a hilltop, enveloped by the tranquil beauty of farmland and lush pastures. It silently surveys the small community from its elevated perch. If you’re not from the area, you might not even notice it, as it’s nestled away from the usual routes and seldom frequented these days. For those who know where to look, the taller gravestones rise against the distant horizon, meeting the skyline. Nestled off the beaten path, Morgan Cemetery is a hidden gem, albeit somewhat challenging, location for those who wish to pay their respects. The cemetery, with its tranquil setting, might escape the notice of those who aren’t specifically searching for it. Yet, it holds a wealth of local history, serving as a final resting place for many early Teas, Sugar Grove and Rye Valley residents, including several members of the Calhoun family. (Article about the Morgan Cemetery coming soon.) Morgan Cemetery’s seclusion adds to its charm but also presents practical challenges. Its inaccessibility makes it a place that requires intention and effort to visit, which perhaps contributes to the depth of its historical significance for those who do make the journey. You can hike up the hill but beware of the bull. The best way up is a 4 wheel drive with the permission of the farmer. As the communities of Teas and Sugar Grove grew, so did the need for a more accessible cemetery. Enter Ridgelawn Cemetery—a project that came to fruition with the purchase of land from one of the Calhoun brothers, either Emory or Ellis (I’m not sure which at this time but will update when I get that information). This acquisition marked a significant shift, not just in terms of land ownership but in how the community would manage its historical and memorial locations. This new location provided much easier access to the burial sites of loved ones. This purchase took place sometime in the 50s along with the building of the new Wharf Hill UMC building. There was a little known fact about the transaction of this land. It contained a small separate parcel located in the top corner where the Calhouns would make a family cemetery of their own which would later become part of Ridgelawn Cemetery. It is within this general area that our story focuses. Several graves in this area of the cemetery are of notable interest, including those of James Thompson Calhoun, , and George Washington Calhoun. These graves were originally part of the Morgan Cemetery before being relocated to Ridgelawn Cemetery by one of the Calhoun brothers for easier access and maintenance. As Ridgelawn Cemetery was established in the1950s, this section was incorporated into the larger cemetery and is now managed by Wharf Hill UMC. We have found death certificates for two of the relocated individuals that list their original interments as “Teas” and “Morgan.” Unfortunately, we were unable to locate information for the third grave. The gravestones, many of which are from the early 20th century, stand as poignant reminders of a bygone era. They bridge the gap between Morgan Cemetery’s historical significance and Ridgelawn Cemetery’s modern role. For visitors, this family plot at Ridgelawn offers a unique opportunity to reflect on the passage of time and the ways in which communities adapt while maintaining their historical roots. As you visit Ridgelawn Cemetery and stand before the Calhoun family plot, it’s important to consider the journey these stones have made. From the secluded, picturesque Morgan Cemetery atop the hill to their new home in a more accessible location, these gravestones serve as a physical manifestation of the family’s enduring presence and the community’s commitment to preserving its history. These stones are among the oldest in the Ridgelawn Cemetery. While Morgan Cemetery may be difficult to access, its hidden nature adds to its mystique and historical charm. It stands as a testament to the past, reflecting an earlier chapter of community history. Ridgelawn Cemetery, with its modern amenities and enhanced accessibility, offers a space where history and the present intersect, ensuring that all residents are honored and memorialized. In navigating these spaces, we connect with the stories and lives of those who came before us, bridging eras and maintaining a continuity that enriches our understanding of both local history and the evolving landscape of community memory. Cemeteries are a very important part of local histories across the planet and can serve as information sources for many purposes. With this in mine, I was thrilled to find out that Elizabeth UMC recently took on care of the Morgan Cemetery which will most assuredly preserve it for many generations to come. If you would like to see the Morgan Cemetery on the horizon, stand with your back facing the mill and look straight across the way up on the ridge in the distance. You should see the tall Williams stone and a few others against the sky. (The Williams stone is the tall one on the left side of the featured image. ) Nancy Calhoun Contributed the following on this post: I understand that my great uncle, Ellis Calhoun, was instrumental in establishing Ridgelawn and in moving family graves. My grandfather, Emory Calhoun, was the oldest Calhoun brother in the family of James Thompson “Thomp” and Sarah Elizabeth “Sally” Blankenbeckler Calhoun. He moved to Oklahoma in 1909 with his wife, Sarah Cathrine “Kate” Scott and their newborn son, Howard Calhoun. He made yearly visits “home” and stayed involved in various matters, including church. My great uncle, Ted Calhoun, gave us a tour of the new cemetery when we visited in the 60s. He related how a younger brother died young and had a coffin with a glass top. When it was dug up for the move, a perfect little soldier was visible under the glass since he had been buried in a military uniform. As they watch, he turned to dust and disappeared. Calhoun Grave Marker which was relocated Death Certificate.,…

Calhoun, Cemeteries, Churches, Communities, Elizabeth UMC, Families, History, Methodist, Morgan, Mysteries, Ridgelawn, Stories, Sugar Grove, Teas, Uncategorized, Wharf Hill

Ghost Stories: A Late Evening Encounter

July 16, 2024July 16, 2024 Admin No Comments

In the fall of 2014, I had recently started exploring my interest in documenting community history. My efforts included digitizing yearbooks and visiting the historic James Cemetery next to the school to practice indexing graves, especially the documenting of those with missing or unknown markers. At that time, I lived adjacent to the school, making it easy to walk over through a gap in the fence. I was also volunteering at the school library, assisting with a highly successful student reading and literacy program. This program required extensive behind-the-scenes preparation to be effective. I would often work with the librarian after 5 PM, sometimes staying until 7 or 8 PM to complete various tasks. On this particular evening, we had a few extra tasks that included setting up the book fair. As I arrived at the school that evening, the only people present were the principal and the librarian. After settling in and completing some tasks, I was asked to make copies of a flyer advertising the book fair. The principal and librarian remained in the library, working on organizing and setting up. It was between 5 and 6 PM, and though it was starting to get dark, it was not yet completely dark outside. The hallway lights were off, and the only illumination came from an Aquafina vending machine near the end of the hall, with additional light coming through the entry door from an outside light. Expecting nothing unusual, I took the flyer and walked down the hallway from the library, past closed classrooms and the office. As I turned to enter the workroom at the bottom of the stairs, I heard it—giggling. It was the same sound I had previously documented in the accounts of others who had experienced what is believed to be a paranormal event. I stopped immediately and took stock of my surroundings. The library door had closed behind me, and there was no sound of talking. The giggling resembled the garbled, mechanical laughter of a Chatty Cathy doll. I decided the sound likely came from the direction of one of the rooms towards the cafeteria. The vending machine’s blue-white glow would have revealed anyone crossing in front of it. I left my papers on the copy machine in the workroom and slowly walked down the hallway towards the vending machine to investigate. As I passed the main entry door, the boys’ restroom, and the classrooms, I felt certain that the little ghost girl I had heard about was manifesting that evening. The classroom doors were closed and locked, and peering inside confirmed that the rooms were empty and quiet. At the end of the hallway, I checked the exit door and the door to the cafeteria serving line. Both were closed and locked, with no lights on and nothing unusual occurring. To ensure nothing else was causing the sound, I randomly pressed some buttons on the vending machine. Nothing happened. I returned to the workroom to make my copies. As I walked back up the hallway, I noted my shadow cast by the vending machine’s light. I pondered whether people truly found the school creepy when dark and empty, while recalling my father’s explanations for various noises, such as water hammer or steam pipes during his time as a custodian in the 70s and 80s. On my way back to the workroom, I checked the gym doors, which were unlocked and uneventful. When I was nearly back to the workroom, I quietly said aloud, “I know who you are and I heard that.” At that moment, the vending machine flickered. I made my copies and returned to the library, where the principal and librarian were still working around a table. Neither had left the room or made any sounds that could have reached the workroom. We finished updating the reading program and I taped up the flyers around the school. Nothing further occurred, and we all left together, locking up the school before I walked home. Additional Accounts of the Little Ghost Girl **April 21, 2017:** I spoke with retired teacher Maxine Reedy, who had taught at Sugar Grove School for nearly 40 years and was now 82 years old. Our conversation took place at Wharf Hill UMC’s fellowship hall after my grandfather’s graveside service. Mrs. Reedy had been involved with some other church ladies in putting on the meal for the family, and we discussed various topics, including my father’s then recent college graduation among other things. I took the opportunity to ask about the little ghost girl at the school. Her expression revealed she did in fact know something about this topic. She confirmed had heard her herself. Unlike other accounts, Mrs. Reedy described hearing laughter evolve into a recognizable melody, “Ring Around The Rosie,” before returning to playful laughter and then abruptly stopping. When I asked if this was the only time she had heard humming, she said that most of the time it was just giggles. She remembered hearing about the ghost activity as early as the mid-70s but noted that people spoke more openly about it in the 90s. Some believed in the ghost, while others sought logical explanations and refused to attribute any of this to paranormal activity. Research & Facts as They Relate to Paranormal Activity – The school was vacant during a fire in December 1935. The custodian, Roy Fulton, was the only person known to be there, checking the boilers at the time of the fire that burned the school down. Blizzard conditions were documented in the newspaper causing the Marion Fire Brigade not to be able to get to Sugar Grove to put out the fire efficiently.– There have been no documented deaths at the school or on the property.– Various accounts of paranormal activity began emerging in the late 70s or early 80s.– Most accounts are consistently descriptions of giggles or sightings of a little girl, around 6-8 years old, appearing in classrooms and then vanishing.– The James Cemetery adjacent to…

Stories, Sugar Grove School

Exploring Paranormal Phenomena: Hauntings at Sugar Grove School

June 29, 2024 Admin No Comments

The intersection of history and the supernatural often provides fertile ground for exploration. In this study, we delve into the mysterious occurrences surrounding Sugar Grove School, particularly the purported presence of a spectral entity known colloquially as the “little ghost girl.” Focusing on the adjacent James Family Cemetery, dating back to 1834, we aim to investigate potential links between historical events and contemporary paranormal experiences. Historical Context of the James Family Cemetery: The James Family Cemetery, situated adjacent to Sugar Grove School, serves as a poignant testament to bygone eras. Dating back to 1834, with the most recent burial recorded in 1956, its significance extends beyond mere gravestones. Following a period of neglect, recent efforts have been made to maintain the cemetery, although numerous markers, some exceeding 120 years in age, exhibit signs of deterioration or have disappeared altogether. Notable Graves and Their Relevance to Paranormal Activity: Of particular interest within the James Family Cemetery are the graves of three siblings: Alice M. James (September 20, 1871 – October 10, 1880, aged 9), Cornelia R. James (August 28, 1875 – October 18, 1880, aged 5), and Willie W. James (November 29, 1877 – October 28, 1880, aged 2). Tragically succumbing to diphtheria within a span of weeks, their untimely demise has become a point for speculation regarding potential paranormal manifestations. Correlation with Reported Paranormal Activity: Anecdotal evidence suggests a correlation between the presence of the “little ghost girl” and the historical context provided by the James siblings’ graves. Descriptions of the apparition’s attire and behavior align closely with the known physical attributes and circumstances of Alice and Cornelia James. Furthermore, instances of the ghostly figure humming “Ring Around The Rosie,” a song contemporaneous with the siblings’ era, lend credence to the hypothesis of a connection. Discussion: The observed paranormal phenomena at Sugar Grove School, particularly manifestations attributed to the “little ghost girl,” prompt speculation regarding the nature of hauntings in relation to historical events. While many occurrences align with characteristics of residual hauntings, indicating echoes of past events, select accounts suggest a more active presence. The absence of definitive evidence regarding the school’s previous land usage, prior to its establishment in 1935, adds layers of complexity to this investigation. Conclusion: In light of the evidence presented, the James Family Cemetery emerges as a pivotal locus for exploring the intersection of history and the paranormal at Sugar Grove School. Further interdisciplinary research, integrating historical archives and paranormal investigations, holds the potential to shed light on the enigmatic phenomena permeating the school’s vicinity.

Cemeteries, James Cemetery, Mysteries, Stories, Sugar Grove, Sugar Grove School

Ghost Of A Little Girl

June 22, 2024June 25, 2024 Admin

In the heart of Sugar Grove School, where the laughter of children echos, another presence lingers—subtle, yet undeniable. Whispers of a spectral figure, a little girl lost in the labyrinth of time, danced through the hallways and classrooms, leaving shivers in their wake. While some waved away these tales as overactive imagination, others couldn’t deny the unsettled feeling with each passing encounter. Who is she? Where did she come from? Why is she here? One teacher, whose journey at Sugar Grove spanned from 1992 to 2013, bore witness to the ethereal giggles that punctuated the silence of early mornings. As she walked the familiar halls, the laughter of a young girl seemed to echo from perhaps another time or place, teasingly elusive. Though fleeting glimpses and faint echoes were all she could grasp, the presence of the unseen child was undeniable, a lingering mystery in the fabric of the school’s history. Yet, it wasn’t an isolated experience. Another veteran teacher, whose tenure stretched from 1975 to 2020, found herself entangled in the spectral web woven within Sugar Grove’s walls. From distant laughter echoing through empty classrooms to the vivid apparition of a girl with dark braids and a dress from another era, her encounters bordered on the surreal. Each sighting, each incident laughter, added another layer to the enigmatic tale of the little ghost girl. Even those who toiled away in the school’s cafeteria found themselves touched by the inexplicable. One morning, as the steam from the hot food on the line danced in the air as a worker removed a lid, a sudden burst of cold air pierced through the warmth, as if a ghostly breath brushed against her skin. Reviewing camera footage revealed no earthly explanation, leaving the encounter shrouded in mystery but clearly showed the moment when the burst of cold air was felt. Later that day, it was discovered that activity had been on the rise in other parts of the school when one teacher came to the cafeteria and mentioned that several had heard laughter earlier in the day from different classrooms. Perhaps the most compelling testament to the haunting came from the collective voices of those who bore witness to the spectral presence. From the hushed whispers of teachers to the startled gasps of cafeteria workers, the tales wove together into a tapestry of shared experiences, each thread adding depth to the paranormality of Sugar Grove School. As the years passed and the stories multiplied, it became clear that the little ghost girl was more than just a figment of imagination. She was a presence woven into the very fabric of the school, a lingering mystery that defied explanation—a reminder that some mysteries were meant to remain unsolved, echoing through the halls of Sugar Grove for years to come. Additional accounts of The Ghost Girl of Sugar Grove School will be added soon! Check our Stories page for more like this.

Stories, Sugar Grove School