Ramblings from the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia

OK. So I know a lot about haunted places and legends. B kinda gave me a bit of a shove. Real Place here, and I actually saw the lamp deal. It was on Ghosthunters when they were down there. Both Jay and Grant are chatting away and only on replay did they see the lamp move back. The cord was not pulled and the spread on the table undisturbed. The reason I say cord not pulled, was it fell normally to the floor. Interesting. This comes from the major ghost story of the plantation

A Walk In the Moonlight…

Full moon rising in the mists from the Mississippi River
Headlights of a car coming down Louisiana State Route 61—
Screeches to a halt as a scream floats down the hollow—
Some woman crying out and begging please for mercy—
He pulls over quick and dashes down through the trees towards the sound—
But now Chloe been hanged and dead a long time now…

Up at the Myrtles Plantation, Bed and Breakfast, ya’ll come and stay.
They can tell you all about how she came to be hanged that day.
Black mistress of the white owner she began to snoop a little too much—
All that listening at the doorways cost her dearly, half an ear.
Well! She’d poison them with oleander and then cure them, Be a hero!
She used too strong a dose. And killed the wife ands two kids.
Afraid she’d be found out she ran to the other slaves, who afraid of their own punishment
Hanged the screaming girl from a tree limb in the hollow themselves…

Oh, there is nothing to be frightened of at Myrtles out on old 61 and Mississippi.
Experts went and stayed at the place and talked and never even noticed—
That the lamp on the table between them was moving backwards very slowly.
With everyone accounted for a large shadow was caught on film by the window,
Children’s voices and music were recorded where none seemed to be at all.

Our friend, I had forgotten him. He has reached by now the end of Chloe’s Hollow.
The screaming has stopped, but he looks everywhere for this Damsel in Distress.
Dear God! What is that swinging there from the branch of that tree in the moonlight?
The angle of the turbaned head and neck mean life is beyond all hope.
A gust of ill-timed wind turns the body enough so that the moonlight falls upon a ghastly face.
Our friend staggers, and bumps into the tree. In a instant, mist covers the moon.

“Excuse me, Sir.” He turns and finds a pleasantly pretty black lady in a long dress and turban.
“Would you escort me back to the big house. It’s frightful dark out tonight.”
“’Uh, uh, um. Say, Miss, did you hear screaming? Did you see a body hanging on that tree?”
“Are you drunk, Sir? It’s frightful dark, but not dark enough to give a man hallucinations!”
He catches his breath. “Yeah, Guess not. What’s your name, Miss?” “Chloe, Sir! How’do.”

Pendragon
© 12/31/07