Ironton Monster Stymies Authorities

 

Image created by Theresa in ChatGPT

It's been close to 20 years now that I had an experience with what potentially was a white Bigfoot near Ironton, Ohio. You can read my full encounter here (Ohio White Bigfoot Experience), but in short, a friend and I were out researching a small family cemetery between Ironton and Southpoint when we were interrupted by something large, white and hairy. It disappeared into the weeds and presumably continued up the hill from us, where an old logging road ran. 

That incident is pretty significant for me, because it's the only time I think I ever SAW anything that could be considered a Bigfoot-type creature, although I'd later have an encounter where I may have heard one telepathically. It was also significant that I wasn't the only witness---my fellow researcher saw and experienced the exact same thing, and we still don't really know what to make of it. Is there a white Bigfoot running around southern Ohio? 

There may be precedent for such a sighting, although the incident in question is, itself, questionable. Awhile back, my friend and awesome Fortean researcher, Tony Breeden, sent me the following article found in the Morgantown Dominion News on 30 November 1972. 

After a witness had reported that a large, white, ape-like creature with bloodstained arms had shaken his taxicab, then made off dragging a deer or large dog, authorities actually went and investigated. And they found white fur, seemingly corroborating the cabbie's story. But analysis proved that the white hair was a synthetic material. The local sheriff's deputy claimed it was probably just some local who hadn't gotten over his Thanksgiving hangover yet. 

So, we have a few possibilities. There could be a deer hunter out during hunting season, trading in the camo and blaze orange for a fabulous (fake) fur coat. Or there could be someone out there hoaxing the community with a Bigfoot-like costume. But, based on my own experience, I'd like to think that maybe, just maybe, there is a white Bigfoot out there in southern Ohio and that the synthetic fur that was found was not related to the creature. I'll let you decide. 

Morgantown Dominion News
30 November 1972

Gertrude's Ghost (EJ Carpenter Mansion of Minneapolis)

E.J. Carpenter House ca 1915
Photo from the Minneapolis Historical Society

Today's post is dedicated to the people of Minneapolis who are fighting the good fight. The ice is melting. 

At 300 Clifton Avenue, in the Loring Park district of Minneapolis, MN, sits a palatial residence known as the E.J. Carpenter Mansion. The home was originally built in 1887 in the Queen Ann style by C.M. Douglas, owner of a coal delivery business. Several years later, it became home to banker Harvey Brown, who passed away there in late 1901. 

Mrs. Brown passed away several years later and the property was transferred in November 1905 to Eugene (E.J.) Carpenter, and his wife, Merrette. The two had a daughter, Olivia, born around 1898. Mr. Carpenter was a lumberman, and a rather wealthy one at that. Yet, he had an eye for the arts. In 1906, he hired architect, Edwin Hewitt, to do some massive renovations on the house. When all was said and done, the former Queen Anne was now a Georgian Revival. 

The Carpenters were instrumental in the arts in other ways, most notably with the creation of the Minneapolis Institute of Art and their own private collection of pieces, which decorated the home. This art collection plays a vital role in one of the home's most prolific ghost stories. 

According to sources, in 1911 fire broke out in the Carpenter home. Merrette's personal maid, a young lady named Gertrude, was trying to save a valuable painting and somehow ended up drowning in a cistern in the basement. Surprisingly, at the time of writing, I cannot find any documentation that this event took place. I cannot even find confirmation that a lady named Gertrude was employed by the Carpenters. In the 1910 census, the family employed multiple servants, most of whom were Swedish or Norwegian-born (see list below) but no Gertrude. However, Gertrude is believed to be the primary spirit haunting the property. 

Source: Wikipedia

Gertrude has been heard humming in the maids' quarters. She has been heard walking up the stairs at times. An original rocking chair belonging to the family mysteriously rocks, presumably by Gertrude.  On the rare occasion that she is seen, she is described as having long blond hair. 

Gertrude is also said to be a protective spirit, guiding the fate of the home. After Mr. Carpenter passed in 1922, the home went to his wife and daughter, who owned it until 1948. But after that, it went through a string of owners, including the Mack's, who broke the home up into several residences. At one point, the home was slated for demolition but was saved. Those close to the source believe it was Gertrude who saved the home. 

The E.J. Carpenter Mansion was added to National Register of Historic Places and today operates as a B&B called 300 Clifton.  In 2025, manager Norman Kulba admitted to not having SEEN the spirits, but definitely feeling and hearing them, including an incident where he was alone in the house and heard shuffling and the tinkling of glasses in an empty dining area. He also notes that guests to the B&B have seen an entire phantom family in the carriage house. 

Current owners have embraced this spooky history. Gertrude's Cistern (aka Gertrude's Haunted Lounge) is an area in the basement that guests can rent or otherwise utilize to enjoy snacks, watch horror flicks, and hopefully catch a glimpse of Gertrude herself. Those seeking a little more adventure can book a haunted trolley tour of Minneapolis, which leaves and returns from 300 Clifton. And, there are plenty of beautifully and historically decorated rooms to rent and hopefully have a spooky experience of your own. 

Sources and Further Reading:

Eugene J. Carpenter House (Wikipedia Article)

300 Clifton (Website) (FaceBook)

How to Explore Minneapolis' Haunted History This Halloween, by Shay Scanlan. 22 October 2025. The Minnesota Daily

The Most Haunted Places in Minneapolis--and Other Fun Scary Things to Do, by Meet Minneapolis Blog

List of Servants in the Carpenter Home (According to 1910 Census Records):

Hans Nichelson M/40

Emma Nichelson F/36

Kate Sullivan F/54

Carrie Kutteron F/26

Palma Frederickson F/23

Ella Carlson F/21

Milly Thompson F/25

The Minneapolis Journal
01 January 1902

Star Tribune (Minneapolis)
23 March 1922

How Old Woman's Run Got Its Name

Elk Hotel
Photo by Theresa ca 2017

2017 is the year I really started getting acquainted with the spooky little town of Sutton, West Virginia. One such trip led me to the end of the downtown district to check out the Elk Hotel, then known as Cafe Cimino. The beautiful historic home (which I'll be posting about in a different blog post!) sits at the confluence of the Elk River and a small creek and accompanying road named Old Woman's Run. 

At the time, I was intrigued with the odd name and even remarked to my partner that I bet there was a cool story behind it. And there was. It would just take me quite a while to find it and even longer to write about it.

The answer was waiting within the pages of The History of Braxton County and Central West Virginia, by John Sutton, grandson of the town founder. (You can read it for free at Internet Archive) It was published in 1919 and on page 40, tells exactly how Old Woman's Run came to be. 

During the early days of white settlement in the area, the area between Old Woman's Run and Granny Creek was filled with laurels, rocky cliffs, and dens. A large female bear roamed this area for years, giving birth to several litters of cubs. The she-bear wasn't seen for several years, but hunters in the area knew she was around by the extremely large tracks she would leave behind. It was these hunters who named the bear "Old Woman" and the creek near her stomping grounds, Old Woman's Run. 

The book goes on to mention that Old Woman was finally killed by hunters in the area where Moman Rhea lived. Although the book doesn't specify where exactly Rhea lived, it does give a little blurb about him later on. Rhea was one of the very few people of color in the entire county at the time the book was written. He was a former enslaved person, who, after his bondage had acquired quite a bit of land and become a progressive farmer known for his acts of kindness. 

To be honest, I'm kind of sad that the Old Woman of this story is simply a bear and not related to some ghostly apparition of an elderly woman haunting the hillside. However, this bear was described as being quite large and leaving behind large tracks. The book even notes that people of the area had always had issues raising pigs and lambs. What else leaves big tracks and steals livestock? Some may say Bigfoot. Interestingly enough, there are tales of just such a creature!

Reports of a possible Bigfoot have lasted up through modern day in the area of Sutton Lake....right near this confluence of the Elk River and Old Woman's Run Creek. These reports date back to at least 1919 when an interesting newspaper article about a wild man was published in the Evening Telegram out of Lakeland, Florida. The article reads:

Return of Wild Man Revives Old Terrors

Flatwoods, W. Va. – The belief that a wild man is still lurking in this vicinity, stealing and killing children and young pigs, is stronger than ever just now. A story related by Luther C. Douglas has dispelled all hopes that the terrible creature had fled to other localities. Douglas’ story follows:

“I was on my way home from lodge meeting,” said Douglas, “when I heard a noise near Ed Wiley’s barn, which is close to the road. I thought it might be a dog and paid little attention to it at first. Then, as I was passing a vacant house a short distance from Ed’s place, I heard a distant door slam and a wild-looking fellow, in rags and with long hair and beard that others who have seen him have described, came rushing out of the front door of the old house, brandishing a huge knotted club and uttering the most horrifying sounds I ever have heard.

“Being convinced by his actions that I was to be assaulted and possibly killed, I drew my revolver and took two shots at him. With this he turned and fled, screaming louder than ever. I didn’t pursue him. Not me. It would take a braver man than I profess to be to go on the trail of that horrible creature.”

The authorities are again agitating the question of taking some means to capture the much-feared lunatic, or whatever he is.

Obviously, whatever or whomever was stealing children and pigs in 1919 was described as being more human (even wearing some type of clothing and brandishing a weapon) than a she-bear, it gives one pause as to what exactly was going on in the little town of Sutton, so close to Flatwoods. 

Evening Telegram (Lakeland Florida)
08 March 1919

The Curse of the Bronze Lady

 

Photo from Find-a-Grave
Submitted by Jan Franco

Deep in the heart of Headless Horseman territory and located within the same cemetery where author Washington Irving lies, is an often-overlooked legend. It is the Curse of the Bronze Lady of Sleepy Hollow Cemetery.

When General Samuel R. Thomas, a wealthy coal and railroad baron and Civil War veteran, passed away from heart disease suddenly on January 11, 1903, he left behind three children and a widow. Samuel married Ann Porter in 1872 and was obviously deeply grieved over losing her beloved husband. She initially had him buried in a private mausoleum/crypt but felt that a man of such wealth and stature deserved a more fitting memorial. 

She hired sculptor Andrew O'Connor who created the bronze statue of a woman, seated in mourning. He named the statue appropriately 'Grief.' Unfortunately, Ann was appalled by the work. She believed the face was too melancholy and dismal; she wanted a happy countenance overlooking her husband's final resting place. (Theresa's side note: No one really knows why Ann was so persistent about having a 'happy faced' statue, but I'm kind of wondering if the mourning widow wasn't as unhappy as she wanted people to believe. After all, she had actually been left out of Samuel's newspaper obituary altogether! Or perhaps this was just a way to get out of paying the princely sum of money it would have cost her to commission such a piece.) Either way, Ann was displeased, and demanded O'Connor try again.

O'Connor obliged and created a second head for the statue, one with a more cheerful look. Ann approved of the new design, but it never made its way onto the statue. Instead, O'Connor hurled the head to the ground, where it smashed to pieces at Ann's feet (very Headless Horseman coded). He basically told her that his first design was perfect, and how dare she question his art. 

Photo from Find-a-Grave
Submitted by David M. Habben

And so, the Bronze Lady retained her original face. Ann would pass in 1944. Her body was cremated, and her ashes were interred in the mausoleum alongside her husband's body. Shortly after, the legends of the Bronze Lady curse would arise. 

Gaining popularity throughout the 1960's, 1970's, and 1980's, especially with local teenagers, the legends of the curse are quite varied, depending on who is telling the story. There are those who state that anyone foolish enough to insult the statue or slap its face is instantly cursed. A simple touch of the cheek is enough to warrant a long run of bad luck. But it's when one chooses to sit in the statue's lap that things get REALLY weird. 

Some say that simply sitting in the lap at all is curse-worthy. Others say if you sit on her lap, jump down, and spin around three times, you'll be cursed. In another variant, those same actions are believed to BREAK the curse, should it be acquired through some other means. I especially like the variant where if you sit on the statue's lap and then go look into the keyhole of the mausoleum, you'll see a ghost!

Yeah, sometimes the Bronze Lady doesn't want to 'curse' you.... she just wants to be spooky. She may give you the ability to see ghosts through the keyhole, or she might simply be seen walking around the cemetery on dark, moonless nights. If she isn't seen, she may be heard; the mournful cries of the Bronze lady will get louder the closer you get to the burial site. In yet another variant on the lap-sitting, legend says that if someone sits in her lap, she'll cry tears of blood. And, back to the mausoleum itself, if you're not brave enough to look through the keyhole for ghosts, perhaps you'll be brave enough to knock on the door. You won't see ghosts, necessarily, but you'll be plagued with bad dreams. 

If you ever find yourself in the Sleepy Hollow Cemetery, visiting the grave of Washington Irving, or one of the many, many other famous authors and others to be buried within this hallowed ground, don't forget to stop by and pay your respects to the Bronze Lady. At the very least, DON'T INSULT HER!

Sources and Further Reading:

Find-a-Grave Entry for Samuel R. Thomas

The Bronze Lady of Sleepy Hollow: NY Ghosts Blog. 13 May 2025

The Bronze Lady: The Other Spooky Legend of Sleepy Hollow that You've Never Heard Of. The Lineup. Article by Jessica Ferri. Published 24 October 2017

Times Union (Brooklyn, NY)
12 January 1903

The Fairy Stones of Virginia

Virginia has a rather unique state park. Located in Patrick County, Fairy Stone State Park is a magical place where remnants of the fairy folk can still be found and even collected as souvenirs. At least, that's what folklore tells us. 

Fairy Stone State Park was established on June 15, 1936 on land donated in 1933 by Junius B. Fishburn. For years, the area had been special for its abundance of 'fairy stones' or 'fairy crosses.' Science tells us these fairy stones are staurolite crystals. The crystals, which formed seven miles underground, have been pushed up to the surface of the Earth as the mountains themselves rose. 

Staurolite crystals are six-sided and will often show up as twin crystals, intersecting at a 90 degree angle. This causes the rocks to have a unique appearance. The fairy stones will show up as an X, T, or even cross shape. The crosses are the most sought after and appear in the varieties of Roman, St. Andrew's, and even the rarest---the Maltese Cross. More abundant are the single crystal bricks. 

According to folklore, when the fairies of the Blue Ridge region received news, via messenger, of the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, the fairies wept. Their tears crystallized and became the fairy stones of today. Although the fairies themselves are said to no longer inhabit the area, the fairy crosses they left behind serve as a reminder of that sad day.  Some claim that the stones are lucky, and will protect the bearer from illness, accidents, and even witchcraft!

I became aware of the fairy stones thanks to an article I happened to stumble upon while looking up information on a completely unrelated topic. The Ceredo Advance featured an article on the fairies stones way back in 1906---thirty years before the park was established. It seems that a local man from Kenova, WV named A.J. Kelley was the proud owner of one such stone. Mr. Kelley was always glad to show off his fairy stone to anyone wanting to see it. 

After I started looking for pictures of these stones, I realized that I have actually seen them before, in crystal shops and rock shows. The small stones are often made into pendants or other jewelry, even as early as 1906. As I said, you can collect these for yourself! There are designated 'hunting' areas in Fairy Stone State Park, and guided fairy stone hunts. Tips are given on the website for where and how to find the stones, but any type of digging tools is strictly prohibited. 

All About Fairy Stones, from the Virginia Department of Conservation and Recreation

Fairy Stone State Park Website

Ceredo Advance
11 April 1906

The Spirit at the Stump

Photo by Theresa

On November 1, 1936, the people of the Bluefield and Princeton area weren't quite ready to let go of spooky season! That day, the Bluefield Daily Telegraph ran a ghost story submitted by Mrs. Cecil Smith, a reader from near Princeton. 

Mrs. Smith told the story of a colored man named Foot who was accused of an unknown crime many years before. He was hanged at an old oak tree near Princeton, despite the fact that many believed he was innocent. The tree was eventually chopped down, leaving nothing but a stump. However, the spirit of Foot remained.

People passing the stump any time, day or night, could summon Foot's spirit by saying, "Foot, what were you hanged for?" The spirit would answer, "nothing."

Unfortunately, as of this writing, I haven't found any proof that a man named Foot ever existed, let alone was hung (or lynched?) for a crime he didn't commit. But, whether or not this story is based in fact doesn't change the idea that it's an interesting little ghost tale that at one time was a part of Princeton's folklore. Surely, numerous school children heard the story and dared each other to walk by the haunted stump, trying to summon the spirit of ol' Foot, who just wanted to make his innocence known. 

Theresa's Note: this story is also a part of a series that the Bluefield Daily Telegraph ran in the mid-1930s featuring ghost stories submitted by readers from around the area. There are some really fun little stories that showed up in this series, many of which you'll find here on Theresa's Haunted History!

Bluefield Daily Telegraph
01 November 1936

Guinea Pigs, Not Ghosts

 

Source: Office of Laboratory Services

Back during the summer of 1937, children in Charleston's East End were convinced they had a haunted building in their neighborhood. While playing near the West Virginia Department of Health's laboratory building, located at the end of McClung Street, near the statehouse, the children heard terrifying noises. Emitting from the lab were "frightful squeals" and "awesome thumps." Further, the children noticed an eerie light that would turn itself off and on throughout the night. 

The kids eagerly told their parents all about these spooky goings-on, and to their credit, the concerned parents believed them, and sought answers as to who, or what, could be haunting the laboratory. And then, in stepped the voice of reason. Mrs. Katherine Cox, head of the laboratory, offered an explanation. The squeals were not squeals of tortured spirits---they were the squeals of guinea pigs. The weird thumping? That was the rabbits thumping their hind legs within their cages. But what about the light that turned itself on and off? Well, that was an incubator light that flashed in regular intervals. 

Both children and parents seemed appeased by this explanation, and the matter of a haunted health department was dropped. The health department, which was established in 1881 by an act of legislature, was housed at 1812 McClung St. from 1928 until 1954, with an adjoining seven-room residential home providing additional laboratory space, starting in 1936. Mrs. Katherine Cox was head of the laboratory from 1934 until 1940. It was under her directorship that the animals in question were probably used for both rabies and tuberculosis inoculation research. 

Today, the location of the former laboratory is a parking lot for state capitol employees. I have to wonder whether those leaving their cars in the lot ever hear an unexplained squeal or thump....and simply chalk it up to traffic noises coming from the nearby interstate.

Source: Office of Laboratory Services

Bluefield Daily Telegraph
24 August 1937