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||| SHOW ME PARANORMAL'S TEAM MEMBER HAUNTED BLOG ||| ||| <-- Back to America's Haunts ||| --> Journey to Kristie's next Haunted Lighthouse ||| |
| Project Paranormal ~ Kristie's Haunted Blog ~ America's Most Haunted Lighthouses ![]() A big fan of lighthouses, haunted or not, I look forward to creating this blog on "Haunted Lighthouses Across America" for our visitors. I actually own a library of lighthouse books, many of them focused just on the hauntings of these structures. For every lighthouse that I physically manage to visit and photograph, I create scrapbook pages including the haunted history of the lighthouse. My dream would be to one day retire and travel the world, at least the U.S., and photograph lighthouses and write coffee table lighthouse books about them. But moving right along, we will first be looking at the top ten most haunted lighthouses in the USA, ranked as follows: 1. Point Lookout Lighthouse - Maryland 2. Saginaw River Lighthouse - Michigan 3. Heceta Head Lighthouse - Oregon 4. Old Port Boca Grande Lighthouse - Florida 5. Plymouth Lighthouse - Massachusetts 6. Presque Isle Lighthouse - Michigan 7. St. Simons Island Lighthouse - Georgia 8. St. Augustine Lighthouse - Florida 9. New London Ledge Lighthouse - Connecticut 10. Yaquina Head Lighthouse - Oregon Point Lookout Lighthouse - Maryland: Point Lookout Lighthouse, ranked the most haunted Lighthouse in the United States, is located at the mouth of the Potomac River at Chesapeake Bay in Maryland. The reason for it's activity most likely stems from the fact that Point Lookout was once the site of the Civil War's largest prison camp. Neaby resided the U.S. General Hospital. Both locations suffered a great deal of death due to overcrowding and disease. Reports of hauntings of this location began as early as the 1860's. Point Lookout began as part of St. Michael's Manor, one of three manors owned by Leonard Calvert, the first Governor of the Maryland colony. In the 200 years leading up to the Civil War, it served as a popular summer resort, complete with beach cottages, a large wharf and a lighthouse. With the event of war, recreation ceased and resort owners suffered financially. The U.S. Government, needing a hospital to house casualties of the Northern armies, leased the Point Lookout resort. Hammond General Hospital was built and received its first Union Army patients on August 17, 1862. Not long after the Battle of Gettysburg, the federal government expanded the hospital's grounds and built a prison camp for Confederate soldiers. Point Lookout was close to the battlefields yet isolated enough to make escape difficult. The site became officially known as Camp Hoffman, a rebel camp capable of holding 10,000 prisoners of war. Three forts were erected to protect the prison, which Fort Lincoln still remains. The war progressed and by June, 1863; more than 20,000 Confederate prisoners crowded the camp.At the end of the Civil War in April 1865, federal officials began transferring the Confederates south; and by late June the last prisoners were gone. In just under two years, out of 52,264 Confederates imprisoned at Point Lookout, between 3,000 and 8,000 men died. One of the most well known and reputedly haunted sites at the park, the Point Lookout Lighthouse, still stands. No longer in use, the lighthouse first came into existence in 1830 as a one-and-a-half story wooden and masonry building. In 1883 another level was added in order to house two light keepers and their families, allowing the arduous duties involved in lighthouse keeping to be shared. The first lighthouse keeper is one apparation known to haunt this lighthouse. Ann Davis has reportedly been seen at the top of the haunted Point Lookout Lighthouse stairs. In December 1830, the first keeper James Davis died after only a few months of service in which his wife Ann Davis took over the responsibilities for the next 30 years. She moans and sighs, and has been heard to say, "this is my home." Ann, who is most often seen in a long blue dress and white blouse, was found dead in the lantern room still on duty. Another ghost said to reside there is the Joseph Haney, an officer on a ship that wrecked offshore in 1878, and whose body drifted onto the lighthouse rocks. Park rangers, who are responsible for keeping the vandals away, have reported seeing his apparition, still in blue and white uniform, with brass buttons, standing near the lighthouse door with his hair stringy and wet, as if he'd just come out of the sea. He appears before every major storm. Both male and female apparitions have been seen at the Point Lookout lighthouse, especially in the basement. One park ranger reported several apparitions passing through as he sat in the kitchen, the air moving, vibrations on the floor, and their clothes rustling as they calmly floated by, never to be seen again. Foul odors in the upstairs rooms have been reported. Other ghosts have been spotted possibly searching for graves that were removed a century prior. Doors mysteriously open and close, while people have also heard snoring, ghostly voices, footsteps and other strange noises within the lighthouse and on the grounds. The moans and cries of the long ago prisoners and patients are heard by passing ships, and their specters have been seen, still in uniform. The lighthouse is so haunted that in 1980, internationally renowned parapsychologist, Dr. Hans Holzer, along with his team of paranormal psychologists, investigated the lighthous. To this day it remains the only Chesapeake Bay lighthouse to have earned such esteemed scrutiny. The team successfully recorded 24 different voices in the building, both male and female voices singing and talking, often using colorful language. One comment, "Fire if they get too close to you," was thought to reference the great number of Confederate soldiers imprisoned nearby. A female voice, recorded on the tower staircase and believed to be that of Ann Davis, wife of the first keeper, spoke of "my home." Yet another voice said, "Let us not take objection to what they are doing." The team also experienced very chilly air in parts of the building, along with a rotten smell emanating from one particular room. As soon as Dr. Holzer stated his belief that the smell was from the tormented spirits of people held there against their will (those falsely accused of spying or having Confederate sympathies), the smell disappeared. In addition to unusual sounds and smells, many spectral visions have also been reported, such as again, that of Ann Davis, standing at the top of the stairs in a white blouse and long blue skirt. Several unexplained images have appeared in photographs, the most well known being that of "The Ghost of Point Lookout," taken during a séance in the lighthouse in the late 70s. On December 6, 1979 Laura Berg moved into the lighthouse and experienced many paranormal events which led her to look into the haunting, including the investigation by Hans Holzer that occurred on January 14th, 1980. She also held the seance where the spector was captured in photograph. In the photograph, Laura Berg stands in the center holding a candle. To her left, the foggy form of a man in soldier attire including weapon and sash, stood with one leg casually crossed, leaning into the wall. This vision was not noticed by anyone attending the séance; it was noted later, being captured in the photo. Laura Berg tells of her experiences while residing in the lighthouse. The first night she stayed in the lighthouse, she woke to the sound of heavy boots walking back and forth in the hall. She also told of how one of the rooms had a very bad odor at night. Some mornings she would hear a female voice at the top of the stairs singing. She said that she could never determine what song it was, but it seemed to be a very happy one. Sometimes she heard the sound of men laughing and talking in the living room and when she checked no one was there. She only actually saw something one time, which was two figures in the basement. She stated they were transparent and she couldn't tell if they were male or female. Laura Bergs family, when visiting, also experienced paranormal activity, her mother once being awoken in the night to a voice calling her name, 'Helen'. A visting friend once entered the living room to see a woman in a blue dress, in which she retreated and inquired of Laura who the other guest was. Upon going to see who was there, the room was empty. Ms. Berg's most vivid memory was being awakened one night and seeing an unusual series of six lights. She thought it might have been a reflection from a boat or a car but when she looked out, all was dark. As she became more awake, she suddenly smelled smoke. She jumped up and raced downstairs and found her space heater on fire. She was able to put the fire out but the entire wire was burnt, as was the wall socket. She realized that if she hadn't been awoken by the lights, the whole house could have burned, with her in it. She felt like someone was looking out for her and that she was safe. Although Laura experienced a great many paranormal activities in the lighthouse, she stated that she never felt fear or threat by the spirits. Laura moved out of the lighthouse on October 1st, 1981. In 2000 Laura Berg applied for grant money to "Save Maryland Treasures" and contacted the US Navy. The Navy awarded a contract to restore the exterior of the lighthouse to the 1927 time period, with the project completed in late 2002. Many of todays visitors to the lighthouse even claim to experience the ghost of Laura Berg herself, now haunting the lighthouse where she herself was haunted so long ago, although I cannot find any reference to her having died, so not sure on that claim. You can hear evps from her and others to come later down the line at: http://www.ptlookoutlighthouse.com/paranormalsounds.shtml Here you can also view the photos taken while Laura was residing in the lighthouse, just look under the Paranormal V. link. Point Lookout State Park Scotland, MD (301)-872-5688 Photo of Point Lookout Lighthouse:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Saginaw River Lighthouse - Michigan: The first Saginaw River Light was erected in 1831, due to a large quantity of lumber was being exported from the heart of Michigan to the east coast via the Erie Canal. The concept for range lights was actually conceived of by the fifteen year old son of a lightkeeper at the original Saginaw River lightstation, which was demolished when dredging of the river made it obsolete. Range Lights allow mariners to line up two lights, one behind the other and when they are in alignment (when one beacon is above the other) they know they are in the center of the shipping channel. The Front Range Light was constructed atop a square timber crib and took the form of a 34 foot tall white painted pyramid timber frame structure similar in design to that being used for pier head beacons throughout the district at the time. With its upper half sheathed, a small enclosed room was thus created beneath the gallery for the storage of oil and supplies, and in which the Keeper could seek shelter while tending the light during inclement weather conditions. The rear range light was constructed 2300 feet south of the mouth of the river. Consisting of a large elevated concrete base supporting a combined brick dwelling and tower, the swampy ground in the chosen site first required the driving of timber piles deep into the ground to provide a solid foundation on which timber forms for the concrete base could be erected and filled. Atop this concrete foundation, a square two-story dwelling 26' 6" was constructed. Integrated into the northwest corner of the dwelling, a tapered 53' tall square tower with double walls housed a set of iron spiral stairs. Winding from the cellar to the lantern, these stairs also served as the only means of access to the first and second floors by way of landings on each floor, each outfitted with tightly fitting arch-topped iron doors designed to stem the spread of fire between floors. A timber deck supported by timber columns encircled the dwelling at the first floor level, providing easy and dry access to all sides of the structure. The living quarters consisted of a kitchen, parlor and oil storage room on the first floor, and three bedrooms above. The light stayed active, and the residence for the Coast Guard facility until the 1970's when the Coast Guard Station was moved across the river in order to have more space. The station then stayed empty until Dow Chemical, who owned the surrounding land, purchased the facility and boarded it up. It is generally believed (but not well documented) that the Saginaw River lighthouse was the first place where Range Lights were installed. The tower of Michigan's old Saginaw River Light is said to be haunted, however the haunting entiry of the old lighthouse is unknown. Footsteps have been heard by members of the Coast Guard who stayed there. Many have pondered if it could be the ghost of keeper Peter Brawn, who died while in charge. Before passing on, he begged his family to keep the light going and to never let it go out. By all accounts, the family did just that as long as they could and the light was kept burning for many years. Then again, it could also be Peter's wife, who was appointed Keeper after his death, but then later demoted for unknown reason. Shortly after the Coast Guard took over the light, strange things started to be reported here. Namely it was the sound of heavy boots on the iron staircase that were often heard. When the men would go to check and see who was on the stairs, there was no one to be seen. There is not much information on the haunting of the lighthouse, other then what the coastguard members who stayed there had reported, but this is probably due to the lighthouse itself being in the middle of private property owned by Dow, and sitting virtually in the middle of a marsh, where no one can go. I actually was surprised that it is listed as number two on the top ten most haunted, the coast guard occupancy being the only and last reportings, but maybe it is just the validity (or trustworthiness rather) of the Coast Guardsmen that bring it this ranking position. Photo of Saginaw River Lighthouse: ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Heceta Head Lighthouse - Oregon: Named for the Spanish sailor Don Bruno Heceta who discovered the location in 1755, it is pronounced “Ha – SEE – Ta” by most, “HECK – ah – Ta” by others, yet everyone agrees Heceta Head is one of the most beautiful lighthouses in the world as well as one of the most haunted. Formerly known as Devil's Elbow State Park, the area includes the cove south of the lighthouse and the lighthouse itself. The area has since been renamed Heceta Head Lighthouse State Scenic Viewpoint. The Heceta Head Lighthouse and Light Keeper’s house began construction in 1892 and was completed in 1894. The original construction consisted of the lighthouse tower, a single buidling that served as a home for the head keeper, a duplex building where the two assistant keepers lived and several storage type buildings. The single building was demolished in 1940. Both the Lighthouse and Light Keeper's house are listed on the National Register of Historic Places. The lighthouse is still a working lighthouse but not requiring a keeper since it went automated in 1963. From a height of 205 feet above the ocean, its “first order” Fresnel lens, casts it’s beams some 21 miles out to sea. It is the brightest light on the Oregon coast. it is aso proposed to be the most photographed lighthouse in the United States. The Heceta Head Keeper’s House is perched on a cliff with a magnificent view of the Pacific Ocean and the beach below. Paths from the Keeper’s House lead both to the beach and to the lighthouse. The lighthouse tower itself is not thought to be haunted, but stories about strange happenings at Heceta House have been told for years, landing it on the list of the ten most haunted houses in the United States. On the grounds, somewhere in the vegetation surrounding the lighthouse, is a long abandoned grave of a baby girl, thought to be the daughter of one of the early lightkeepers. The grave is difficult to find, but it has been thought to be the focal point of the gray lady that haunts the lighthouse. The Lady in Gray, or Rue as is now known, was the wife of an assistant light keeper in the 1890s. It is said that her young daughter drowned in the local estuary or the ocean and, in despair, the mother committed suicide. Rue now haunts the Heceta Head Light, ever searching for her long-lost daughter. Every keeper since the 1950s has reported the strange goings-on. Screams in the night have been heard, objects have been moved or are missing, rat poison in the attic has disappeared, closed cupboards have been found open, and lost tools reappear in strange places. Perhaps the most notable sighting was in the 1970s, when a worker was doing some work in the attic. While cleaning the windows, he noticed a strange reflection in the glass, and turned to see a silver haired lady in a gray dress seemingly floating over the floor. He screamed and ran out of the attic. He was finally convinced to return to work a few days later, with the promise he wouldn't have to go into the attic. He then accidentally broke the attic window when he was working on the exterior of the building. Since he refuseed to actually go inside the attic, he repaired the window from the outside and the broken glass was left scattered on the floor of the attic. That night, workers reported hearing scraping noises coming from the attic. In the morning when they went to the attic to investigate, they found that the glass had been swept into a neat pile beneath the repaired window. This lady ghost nicknamed "Rue" doesn't seem to like it when construction is done or changes are made to the buildings. Reportedly some volunteer workers had gone up to the location to do some painting and were spending the night. Through the night, the fire alarm kept going off. Even though no fire was discovered, the alarm continued to go off. After growing tired of being woken up by the sound of the alarm, they removed the battery, but to no avail. The alarm sounded yet again. Perhaps Rue didn't like the color of paint they were using? The ghost, who was identified as "Rue" through a Ouija board and therefore is now named such, has been seen many times on the stairs, or lurking about the house. She also wanders the grounds, near the abandoned grave. It's believed she's the mother of the baby, as she often has a sorrowful expression on her face. Rue has many ways of making her presence known including moving random objects, opening and closing cupboard doors, peering down at people from the attic window, and appearing as a smoky gray mist - thus the nickname "Gray Lady" also. Famed photographer Steve Terrill and photographer Steve Gaddis were staying at the lighthouse B&B, when they had various encounters with the “lady phantom of the house,” including spotting someone in Gaddis’ room window, this when there wasn’t a soul in the B&B. The family there considers her a member of the family, and this lighthouse is said to have the most witnesses of all concerning paranormal acitivity. The Queen Anne style Keeper’s House has been restored to its original splendor. It now serves as an Interpretive Center by day and a Bed and Breakfast by night. The B&B welcomes guests year around. Guests are encouraged to view the lighthouse after dark, a rare experience. Heceta house has become so popular that there is a three-month waiting list for reservations. Photo of Heceta Head Lighthouse: ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Old Port Boca Grande Lighthouse - Florida: Built in 1890 by the U.S. Lighthouse Service to mark the entrance into Charlotte Harbor from the Gulf of Mexico, the Boca Grande Lighthouse is the oldest building on Gasparilla Island and its most recognized landmark. Along with being a working U.S.Coast Guard light, it is a museum of local history open to the public, known as the Boca Grande Lighthouse Museum. The museum was created by Barrier Island Parks Society and opened to the public in 1999. Right next to the lighthouse sits its twin - a building that served as the lighthouse keeper's assistant's home. Lighthouse keepers and their families lived and worked in the lighthouse - and in the adjacent assistant lightkeeper's house - from 1890 until 1951. The Boca Grande lighthouse served as a home for the lighthouse keeper and his family, and the twin building next to it served as home to the assistant lighthouse keeper. The keeper would take care of the light until midnight, and then his assistant would tend to the light for the rest of the night. The U.S. Coast Guard automated the light in 1956. Ten years later, in 1966, the Coast Guard removed the light from the building, which was deteriorating due to neglect and beach erosion. The two buildings were nearly lost to the sea. By 1970, the shoreline had been eroded by hundreds of feet and the sea was beginning to reach the lighthouse foundation. In 1972 Lee County took over ownership of the lighthouse and surrounding 13 acres, and began a long process to save the building. Gasparilla Island is named after the legendary pirate Jose Gaspar. Tales of his ferocity and buried treasure on the island where he lived, when not raiding Spanish merchant ships, abound. By some accounts, he plundered over 400 ships. He would kill all the crew members, except for beautiful women, of whom he took to an island and held captive as concubines, or until a ransom was paid. One woman, Useppa, or Josefa, a particularly beautiful Spanish princess, caught his eye. She however, wanted nothing to do with him and spurned his advances, even spitting in his eye. Enraged, he drew his cutlass and beheaded her. Immediately regretting the act, he took her body to Gasparilla Island and personally buried her near to where the lighthouse now stands, but kept her head with him in a jar on his ship as a memento of her beauty. Legend has it that she walks the shore looking for her head. During the lighthouse's history, a young daughter of one of the keepers died, most likely of diphtheria or whooping cough. Tour guides have claimed that at midnight, you can hear the sounds of a child playing upstairs. A former park ranger who led tours of the lighthouse, often pointed to a doorway on the second floor and told visitors that it was one of the little girl's favorite places to play. The Old Port Boca Grande Lighthouse is open to the public. Although it's fenced off, you can get a great view of the lighthouse from the nearby park and beach. The assistant keeper's house is now used as a house for the park ranger. Photo of Old Port Boca Grande Lighthouse: ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Plymouth Lighthouse - Massachusetts: In the late 1760s John and Hannah Thomas agreed to allow a lighthouse to be built on their property at the northern corner of the mouth of Plymouth Bay, if John was awarded the job as keeper. The structure, built for 660 pounds, took the form of a wooden dwelling with a lantern at each end of its roof, which made this the site of North America's first "twin lights." The lights were in operation by September 1768. The government didn't initially buy the land. Instead, they paid the Thomases five shillings for the right to build the lighthouse. The lighthouse complex consisted of a dwelling with two attached towers. In 1769 the lighthouse began operating. John and Hannah were faithful to their duties and kept the oil lamp in each of the two towers burning. In the days leading up to the American Revolution, John Thomas recruited a regiment of volunteers from Plymouth County. In March 1775, Thomas and his men fortified Dorchester Heights at Boston, leading which led to the withdrawal of the British. Thomas became a major general and led troops at Quebec. When John left to fight in the Revolutionary War, Hannah faithfully kept the lamps burning by herself, along with the responsibilities of raising three children. She was America's first woman lighthouse keeper. Colonists defending the fort near Gurnet Lighthouse exchanged cannon fire with the British frigate Niger when the vessel ran aground nearby. One of the frigate's shots hit one of the lighthouse towers as Hannah stood watch. John never returned from the war, smallpox spread through his troops, and Thomas died of the disease on June 2, 1776. One of the most famous New England shipwrecks happened near the Gurnet in December 1778, when the American brigantine General Arnold tried to anchor about a mile from the point and struck White Flats. Seventy-two men on the ship perished in the freezing water. The keeper at the Gurnet was unable to reach the vessel because of the ice floes that filled the harbor. Local residents eventually built a causeway to the ship to rescue the survivors. Hannah continued to tend the twin towers as lighthouse officials had awarded the keeper's post to her, officially naming Hannah America's first female keeper. In 1786, Hannah Thomas had hired a local man named Nathaniel Burgess (or Burges) to serve as lightkeeper. John Thomas, son of Hannah and John, had done much of the work at the station for years by the time Burgess received the official appointment as keeper in 1790. The lighthouse was ceded to the federal government in the same year. John Thomas, Hannah's son, remained keeper until 1812. The next keeper, Joseph Burgess, son of Nathaniel Burgess, had a long 39-year stint. In 1801 the structure burned to the ground. The merchants of Duxbury and Plymouth paid for a temporary structure, which itself was nearly consumed by fire in early 1802, and then it was replaced in 1803 by a new dwelling with taller twin towers. The land at the Gurnet was finally bought outright, as the Thomases were paid $120. Both towers were rebuilt in 1843 and in 1924 the northeast tower was decommissioned as it was decided that two towers were not needed. The northeast tower was dismantled. The south tower became known as the Plymouth Lighthouse and now houses a solar-powered optic and continues to flash its distinctive white and red beams. The lighthouse no longer needs a resident keeper but apparently Hannah is still on duty. When Bob and Sandra Shanklins, lighthouse photographers, decided to spend the night in the old keeper's dwelling at Plymouth Lighthouse, Bob awoke during the night. He saw a woman's face hovering above Sandra's head. The woman was wearing and old time garment that buttoned tight around her long neck. Her long dark hair was parted and flowed down to her shoulders. She appeared to be in her mid-thirties and seemed intensely sad. Bob turned his head away from the woman to look at the lighthouse through the window. When he turned his attention back to the apparition, it was gone. Bob and Sandra surmised that she was probably Hannah Thomas, thinking that John had finally returned home from the war. The lighthouse is not open to the public. The Gurnet is accessible by four-wheel-drive vehicle from Duxbury Beach, but the road to the lighthouse is not open to the general public. There may be occasional open houses, including during Duxbury's "Opening of the Bay" festival in May. Photos of Plymouth Lighthouse: First is from 1843 and second is current ![]() ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Presque Isle Lighthouse - Michigan: At the dawn of the nineteenth century, the spit of land protruding from the eastern shore of Lake Huron had already been known as Presque Isle for over a hundred years, after French trappers seeking welcome shelter in the natural harbor on the peninsula's southern lee side gave it the name "almost an island." By 1830 the area took on additional significance, as steam-powered vessels began stopping here to stock up on wood to feed their hungry boilers. So important was this natural harbor of refuge that many an upbound captain decided to turn tail back to Fort Gratiot finding himself unable to make the safety of Presque Isle during a gut-busting Nor'wester. On February 19, 1838, Michigan State Representative Isaac Crary beseeched Congress to consider funding the construction of a lighthouse to guide vessels into Presque Isle harbor. Congress appropriated the sum of five thousand dollars for the project on July 7, only five months after Crary introduced his recommendation. That fall, Lieutenant James T. Homans was dispatched to select sites for the lighthouse at Presque Isle. In accordance with specifications, the whitewashed rubble stone tower stood 30 feet in height with walls four feet thick at the base. The tower stood 18 feet in diameter at the base, gracefully tapering to a diameter of 9 feet below the gallery with a hand-cut stone stairway spiraling around the interior wall of the tower up to the lantern. The dwelling consisted of a small detached single story structure located approximately 30 feet inshore from the tower. Henry L. Woolsey was appointed as the station's first keeper, officially listed in payroll records as starting service at the station on September 23, 1840. In 1866, the District Inspector requested that repairs be made to the lighthouse and keepers house which were approved, but then the Lighthouse Board suddenly proposed a new larger lighthouse altogether be built, noting that the combination of the tower's location and diminutive height allowed it to function only as a harbor light, so construction began on a larger light at the tip of the peninsula approximately a mile to the north, and a pair of range lights to guide vessels into the harbor itself. The Board further suggested that with the construction of these new Lights, the old station would be rendered obsolete, and could thereafter be extinguished and abandoned. The New Presque Isle Light station completed in 1871. Patrick Garraty Sr., who had served as keeper of the old station since July 15, 1861 moved his wife and four children into the new station, and exhibited its Third Order Fresnel lens for the first time on the night of June 1, 1871. With the old light now obsolete, the station's lens and lantern were removed from the tower and shipped to the Detroit depot for use elsewhere. With the removal of the lantern, the tower was left uncapped and the windows and doors to the structures boarded-up to stand empty and decaying for 26 years until 1897 when the lighthouse reservation and structures were finally sold at public auction to Edward O. Avery of Alpena. Soon after the turn of the twentieth century, successful Lansing milliner, Bliss Stebbins, and owner of the nearby Grand Lake Hotel, purchased the property at a tax sale for $70.00, planning to use the property as a private picnic area for patrons of his hotel. With the property used only as an extension of the Grand Hotel, Bliss apparently did nothing to improve either the tower or dwelling, and by 1930 the building's roof had collapsed, the walls were crumbling and people were seen stealing bricks to use in their back yard projects. Bliss's brother, Francis B. Stebbins, purchased the property in 1930, planning to rebuild the dwelling as a summer cottage for his family, however finding the structure to be unsalvageable he came to the same decision as the District Inspector some 70 years previous, deciding to demolish the structure and start anew. After dynamiting the crumbling walls, Stebbins finished work in 1939, with the structure built in a style reminiscent of an old English cottage. Bliss incorporated many interesting materials in the construction, notable among them were the cottage's flagstone floors and ceiling beams which were salvaged from the old Lansing post office which was being replaced at the time. With no electricity available on the property, power was supplied by a 32 volt DC Delco generating plant located in the cellar. In the 1940's, Francis purchased a larger summer home nearby, and continued to use the cottage by the lighthouse as a guest house. After a number of vacationers began asking for tours of the old light station, Francis realized that converting the property into a museum might be a financially rewarding opportunity, and he set about refurbishing the old tower, which had sustained a considerable amount of water damage as a result of being uncapped for 70 years. Missing cement was replaced between the stones where it had washed-out, the structure was given a fresh coat of white paint and a chain handrail was installed up the center of the stairs at the request of Stebbins' insurance carrier. Francis heard through the grapevine of an auction being held by the Coast Guard in the early 1950's, and successfully bid on two Fresnel lenses, which he brought back to the station. ishing to install one of them in the tower, arrangements were made with a fabricator in Alpena to build a replica octagonal iron lantern similar to that which was installed on the tower in 1957. The completed lantern was hoisted atop the tower, and the smaller of the two lenses, a Fourth Order lens with twin bulls eyes and brass occulting panels was installed in the lantern. The old English cottage was furnished with items appropriate to the mid-nineteenth century period, and various other maritime artifacts were obtained for display in the cottage and on the grounds. Electricity finally came to the station in 1965, and Francis reactivated the light in the tower. However the Coast Guard would not provide permission for its continued display as a private aid, and the clockwork rotating mechanism was removed from beneath the lens. Francis B Stebbins passed away in 1969, and the property transferred to his son Jim, who continued to operate the station as a museum. Jim applied for National Register of Historic Sites status for the station, and the tower being added to the registry in 1973. Hiring vacationing college girls to serve as guides at the station, the girls wore nineteenth century period clothes to further the illusion of a "step back in time." Unfortunately, the college girls appeared to have acted as a magnet for college boys, and in 1977 Jim made the decision to hire a retired couple George and Loraine Parris as live-in tour guides and custodians. I have seen some rumor as to a tale told about this lighthouse is that a lighthouse keeper's wife went insane because of the loneliness of her husband's position. It is said that he imprisoned the madwoman in a cell below the lighthouse and she spent her last days there, shrieking insanely. It is said that her screams can still be heard today. I am not so sure about that tale, but I am sure that the lighthouse is haunted by George Parris and so was his wife. George and Lorraine became the caretakers, moving into the keeper's dwelling in mid-May. While Loraine worked in the museum, George gave tours of the lighthouse. George enjoyed the visitors to the lighthouse, especially the children. He enjoyed taking the visitors to the lighthouse on a tour of the buildings and grounds and telling them about the hard life and heroic deeds of the Keepers and their families. He also enjoyed playing harmless pranks on the light station visitors, the grownups as well as the children, by giving them a "muscle test" with the foghorn. He would ask for volunteers who thought that they could stand in front of the mighty horn as he set it off. No matter how rigid a stance the person took, George would blow the horn and the vibration would knock them clean off their feet. George loved the people who visited the Old Presque Isle Lighthouse, and the people loved him and would return year after year to visit the lighthouse and to see what tricks and tales he had cooked up to play on them. On January 2, 1992, George, the most beloved man in Presque Isle, Michigan, died of a massive heart attack. A chapter in the lighthouse's history had been closed, but perhaps a new one had begun.The following May, Lorraine didn't want to go back to the cottage alone, but her kids talked her into it. One evening when Lorraine was driving along Grand Lake Road on her way back to the light station, she felt her eyes drawn to the tower - and to her utter amazement she saw a light shining in the lantern room. Lorraine knew that this was impossible as the George had disconnected the electricity to the tower so the light wouldn't be accidentally turned on. The Coast Guard said it was illegal to display a light in the tower as mariners might confuse it with the New Presque Lighthouse. To be doubly certain that no accidental lighting would occur, the Coast Guard had removed the gears so the lens could no longer rotate. As Lorrain approached the house, she could no longer see the light. The next day she climbed to the tower to reassure herself that someone had not reconnect the power lines and restored the gears. The lantern room was empty. Lorrain didn't say anything to anybody about what she had seen as she didn't want to be ridiculed, but she continued to see the light whenever she drove along the stretch of Grand Lake Road that looks out over Presque Isle Harbor. Soon people began reporting the light in the old tower. The light appeared to have a yellowish cast, as if from an old oil lamp. National Guard pilots reported seeing it when they flew night missions over the peninsula. The Coast Guard being having taken notice of it as well, investigated to make sure that no one could fire the light back up. But again, found it had been permanently disabled years before, so there was no way that the light could be shining. Yet it was. On July 4, 1992, a little girl reported seeing a man at the top of the stairs leading to the lantern room. The little girl described a tall man with snow-white hair and a beard, and wore glasses. When shown a pictures of George, she said it was the man in the tower but he had been "brighter white" when she saw him, than he was in the pictures. This child had never met George when he was alive. These are but a few of the strange happenings at Old Presque Isle Lighthouse. Many people believe that the spirit of playful old George is occasionally paying a visit to the lighthouse that he loved so much, just to let folks know that he's doing just fine and to keep alive the stories of the lighthouse that he loved so much. People have reported that George's light had guided them safely to shore on dark, stormy, foggy nights. People have also reported playful pranks by unseen hands while visiting the lighthouse. To this day, the light still comes on at dusk and goes off at daylight. The U.S. Coast Guard has classified it as an "unidentified" light. Is Old Presque Isle Lighthouse haunted by friendly and fun-loving George? I am definitely sure of that one. Old Presque Isle Lighthouse 5295 Grand Lake Road Presque Isle, MI 49777. (989) 595-2787 Photo of Presque Isle Lighthouse: Photo from 1920's ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ St. Simons Island Lighthouse - Georgia: On October 17, 1804, John Couper, a plantation owner on St. Simons Island, deeded four acres of his land, known as "Couper's Point," at the south end of the island for one dollar to the Federal government for the construction of a lighthouse. James Gould of Massachusetts was hired in 1807 by the Treasury Department to build the lighthouse and a one-story frame residence. Original specifications called for the lighthouse to be built of hard brick; however, for economic purposes, most of the material used in the construction was "tabby," a mixture of oyster shell, lime, sand, and water. The uppermost part (12 feet) was constructed of the "best northward brick." The 75-foot tower, exclusive of the lantern, was an octagonal pyramid, 25 feet in diameter at the base, tapering to 10 feet in diameter at the top. The tabby foundation was eight feet thick at the base. An iron lantern ten feet high and eight feet in diameter rested on top of the brick and tabby tower, making the lighthouse 85 feet tall. Oil lamps were suspended on iron chains in the lantern. Appointed in May 1810 by President Madison as the first keeper, James Gould held this position at an annual salary of $400 until his 1837 retirement. In 1862, the Confederates destroyed Gould's lighthouse so the Federal forces could not use it as a navigational aid. For the next ten years, Retreat Plantation's cotton barn served as a navigational reference for ships entering Brunswick harbor. The tall cotton barn was marked on U.S. government maps as "King's Cotton House." The ruins of the first lighthouse were partially excavated by archaeologists during August 1974. Its boundaries are just south of the oil house where one can see a mound of grass. A photograph and history are explained on an interpretative sign at that spot. James Gould probably built a frame house to serve as the home for the lighthouse keeper and his family. The exact site of that dwelling is not known. The U. S. Government ordered the construction of a second lighthouse that was placed west of the first. The 104-foot tower, which has a 129-step cast iron spiral staircase and an adjacent keeper's house, were designed by one of Georgia's most noted architects, Charles Cluskey. Sent to build a lighthouse on St. Simons Island, Cluskey and some of the crew never saw the fruition of their effort, dying in 1871 of malaria, a year before the structures were completed. Official records of the lighthouse keeper stated in 1874: "This station is very unhealthy, and it is attributed to the stagnant water in several ponds in the vicinity." In 1876 the U. S. Lighthouse Establishment performed a "thorough overhauling" at the lighthouse; workers weather-proofed the roof and walls of the dwelling and installed a speaking tube which ran from the watch room in the tower to the house. The U.S. Lighthouse Establishment household had to be self-sufficient except for basic lighthouse supplies such as fuel, paint, ropes, and lighthouse maintenance equipment. The keeper and his assistant shared the dwelling, the keeper's family living downstairs and the assistant's upstairs. A central stairway connected the two households. A tower room connected the keeper's dwelling to the tower. Tempers flared one Sunday morning in March 1880 between the head keeper and his assistant. The argument left the keeper, Frederick Osborne, dead. In 1890, a fire-proof brick oil house was constructed beside the lighthouse. This 9' x 11' building could hold 450 five-gallon oil cans. The lighthouse kerosene lamp was replaced by electricity in 1934. On June 1, 1939, the lighthouse was placed under the jurisdiction of the U.S. Coast Guard. Twenty years later, the lighthouse was fully automated with timers to turn the light off and on. The lighthouse keeper's dwelling (1872) is a unique Victorian design. Architectural details not only enhance the beauty of the structure but draw the eye upward to the tower to the tower. Window moldings and acanthus leaf brackets are of cast iron. It is a solid, sturdy structure built of Savannah gray brick. The walls are twelve inches thick. The heart pine floors are original. Around 1910, when Carl Olaf Svendsen was head lighthouse keeper, the dwelling was altered into two apartments by removing the central staircase. An exterior staircase, stoop, and door were added on the north side giving access to the second floor. These steps and stoop were removed, the doorway re-bricked, and the central stairway rebuilt during the 1975 rehabilitation.The lighthouse keeper's house served as a home for the lighthouse keepers from 1872 until 1950 when, following the complete automation of the lighthouse in 1953, the last lighthouse keeper, David O'Hagan, retired, and the passageway was taken down to separate the lighthouse from the keeper's house. In 2004, the lighthouse was deeded to the Coastal Georgia Historical Society under the Lighthouse Preservation Act after a long a successful lease arrangement with the U.S. Coast Guard and the Society. Today, with the assistance of the U.S. Coast Guard Auxiliary, the light continues as an Aid to Navigation, shining seaward every night and during inclement weather. What haunts St. Simons lighthouse? Legend claims that Frederick Osborne footsteps in the tower have been heard by the wives of later keepers. Since the era of lightkeepers, many witnesses have claimed that his heavy footsteps can still be heard climbing the tower's staircase. But none have really been bothered by the lingering spirit of Frederick like Jinx, the dog of one of the keepers, was. The Svendsen's took over caretaking duties in the early 1900's, and brought along their dog, a friendly pooch named Jinx. One day, as Mrs. Svendsen was preparing supper, she heard footsteps on the stairs. Thinking it was her husband coming down, she paid no attention. However, when the door opened, there was no one there, but Jinx started growling, and followed an unseen presence across the floor. As the footsteps approached the corner where Jinx was sitting, he growled, his fur stood up on his back, and he backed into the corner. Dogs and cats are said to sense the presence of the supernatural more than humans, and it was apparent that Jinx did not like this apparition. Unfortunately, this keeper seemed to like Jinx, or maybe he was just torturing him, but from then on, he would always approach the poor dog. It's said that dogs can sense whether a person is truly good or not, and maybe Jinx knew something about this ghost that others didn't, but for his entire stay at the lighthouse, Jinx was haunted by the keeper's spirit. The tower is open for climbing, and there is a museum. Both are open Tues.-Sat 10-5; Sun 1:30-5 (912-638-4666). Photo of St. Simons Island Lighthouse: ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ St. Augustine Lighthouse - Florida: St. Augustine has always been a challenge for mariners. The conditions of the weather, water, and land are a hazard for citizens and marauders alike. After Pedro Menendez founded St. Augustine in 1565, he decided to build a wooden tower on the north end of Anastasia Island. The tower was to be manned by a single Spanish soldier to help identify incoming ships. Primarily a defensive measure for the settlement, the tower also served as a landmark for sailors attempting to locate the town from sea, amid the wilderness. The watchtower was meant to aid ships to the location of the port but it also showed the way for Sir Frances Drake in May of 1586. Drake, an English privateer, pillaged and burned the city and the tower. In 1683, the Spanish government replaced the wooden tower with a sturdier structure made of coquina stone. The new structure was a complex that included a watchtower, guardhouse, well, and an ammunition storage house, all surrounded by a high coquina wall. With each succession of national ownership, the complex was refurbished and enlarged, attesting to its strategic importance for the safety of the town it guarded. The towers importance as an aid to navigation certainly increased over time as the harbor became a trade destination. Within six months of Florida becoming a United States territory in 1821, the Territorial Council forwarded a request to President Monroe for lighthouses to be built at Pensacola and St. Augustine. As a result, the Spanish coquina guardhouse/watchtower was converted to a true lighthouse. On April 5, 1824, Juan Andreu was named the first lightkeeper of the first lighthouse in the State of Florida. Ten big oil lamps in front of mirrors produced the light. In 1855, Joseph Andreu, cousin of Juan Andreu, had to learn how to use the new lard oil lamp and a new fourth-order Fresnel lens. In 1859, Joseph Andreu fell to his death while painting the tower. His wife, Maria de los Dolores Mestre, took over and became the first female lightkeeper in St. Augustine. During the Civil War, Florida joined the Confederacy and the flame was extinguished in 1862 by Captain George Gibbs to prevent Union attack by sea. Paul Arnau, collector of customs in St. Augustine, removed and buried the lens. It was eventually recovered, but the light was not relit until 1867. By 1870, it was evident that the sea was encroaching upon the coquina lighthouse and it was in danger of collapse. Authorities acquired five additional acres of land west of the old tower and construction began in 1871. The new lighthouse was built of brick on a concrete foundation. Four years later the old coquina keeperís house fell into the ocean. The tower collapsed in a storm two years later. In 1939, the U. S. Lighthouse Service was abolished and its duties were transferred to the United States Coast Guard. In 1955, the light was automated. There are many tales of who haunts St. Augustine Lighthouse, and you have to remember that the original lighthouse is long gone, so it is the new lighthouse that is haunted. Fact is, St. Augustine itself, is America's oldest and most haunted city. Its unique and often-turbulent history has spawned more than four hundred years' worth of shadowy figures. According to local legend, there are numerous ghosts and things that go bump in the night all over St. Augustine, but I want to first look at the actual true deaths that occurred at the lighthouse so we can dispell any untruths about the paranormal activity. John Carrera died in 1853 at the first lighthouse. Joseph Andreu did fall from the first lighthouse to his death, in 1859. Head Keeper Rantia's wife died at the new lighthouse on Sept. 21, 1894, cause unknown. Three young girls did die during the construction of the new lighthouse. Two were the daughters of the superintendent of construction of the tower - Hezekiah Pittee. Since the construction was taking so long, Pittee moved his family down from Maine. They lived in a house on-site. There was a handcart vehicle that went from the light station to the ocean. The workers used this to bring the supplies from the beach to the work site. The children, Pittee had five, used to ride on it for fun. On July 10, 1873, the handcart in which they were playing went off the tramway and five children fell into the water. Workers were able to save a boy and a girl. Two of Pittee's daughters, Mary (15) and Eliza (13), and a young black girl, either a servant or the daughter of a worker, drowned. There is a story that some passing mariner hung himself in the house in the 1930s, but there has never been any proof that this actually happened. Some of the paranormal experiences reported at the lighthouse include hearing the voice of Eliza, daughter of the lighthouse's builder, who drowned. Footsteps from some unseen presence can be heard shuffling on the gravel and on the steps outside the lighthouse. A large, dark male figure has been seen in the basement. Several staffers have seen a hazy, male figure walking through the lighthouse. Perhaps it is a former lighthouse keeper making his rounds. Once, when the museum was being rearranged, a maintenance man lifted one end of a bench to set it aside. Before he could walk around to lift the other side, it rose up in the air and moved itself. People wonder if it is a Spanish guard from the first wooden tower built in 1586. There have been numerous reports of seeing Pittee's two little girls chasing each other up the lighthouse steps. The most credible reports have been of a single girl however. One former keeper spoke often of hearing footsteps following him during his rounds, and also noticed the odor of cigar smoke, possibly from a former lighthouse keeper from whom he was mentored. The cigar smoke has been noted by many visitors, usually within the lighthouse tower. There was a time when the Keeper's House was being rented out as apartments. Tenants would report seeing a young girl dressed in old-fashioned clothing who would appear and then disappear. Several reputable witnesses have seen a girl in and around the house, most often near an upstairs window. The last lighthouse keeper (during the 1950's) refused to live in the house and traded places with a Coast Guardsman who had been assigned to barracks on-site. The Guardsman's sister related the story by letter of how she and her brother used to laugh about the lighthouse keeper's fear of hearing footsteps upstairs. A figure has also been seen in the Keeper's House basement, and has been dubbed, "The Man in Blue." When the gift shop was located in the house, employees also believed that a ghost they had nicknamed "Andrew" was the cause of poltergeist-like activity. The lighthouse tower itself is also haunted, as many have witnessed hearing both voices and footsteps inside. Employees have reported finding the upstairs door at the top of the tower unlocked, though it had been locked the night before. It seems walking through the property at night may spook some, as footsteps and voices are commonly heard by neighbors of the haunted St. Augustine Lighthouse. I recommend anyone that loves hauntings as much as I do, to vacation at St. Augustine, FL; and visit the many famously haunted locations. 81 Lighthouse Ave., St Augustine, FL 32080. (904) 829-0745. Photo of St. Augustine Lighthouse: ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ New London Ledge Lighthouse - Connecticut: I personally would have ranked this lighthouse higher up in the top ten most haunted, it even looks and gives the one a feeling of "spooky" when peering out at it, there is just something about such an elegant looking victorian type structure floating on top of the water like that. This one-of-a-kind building was one of the last lighthouses built in New England, and it represents a rare case of an early 20th century offshore lighthouse that is not of cast-iron construction. The stately red brick building with its mansard roof and granite detailing makes a striking picture standing off by itself near the entrance to Connecticut's New London Harbor, at the extreme eastern end of Long Island Sound. The lighthouse reportedly owes its distinctive French Second Empire style to the influence of the wealthy home owners on the local coast, who wanted a structure in keeping with the elegance of their own homes. Many of the large homes near the shore in the area were destroyed in the great hurricane of September 21, 1938. The New London Ledge Light was built because New London Harbor Light wasn't sufficient to direct vessels around the dangerous ledges at the entrance to the harbor. Lobbying for the lighthouse began in 1890. The lighthouse was built by the Hamilton R. Douglas Company of New London. The crib it stands on was constructed by the T.A. Scott Company in Groton and was towed to the site, where it was filled with concrete and riprap and sunk in 28 feet of water. A riprap deposit, 82 feet square and 10 feet deep, surrounds and protects the foundation. A concrete pier, 50 feet square and rising 18 feet above low water, was constructed on top of the foundation. The pier contains cellar space and two water cisterns. The lighthouse was at first called Southwest Ledge Light, but the name was changed to avoid confusion with the lighthouse of the same name in New Haven Harbor. The cast-iron lantern rises from the center of the building's mansard roof. A clockwork mechanism had to be wound every four hours to keep the lens revolving. When it was first lighted, the New London Day reported that the light could be seen up to 18 miles away. The characteristic was three white flashes followed by a red flash every 30 seconds. A fog signal was added in 1911, replacing the one at New London Harbor Light. Howard B. Beebe was keeper during the hurricane of September 21,1938. He was in the lighthouse with a second assistant keeper and a tinsmith. Beebe's family was on shore at the time the gale struck. "It washed out everything," Keeper Beebe later told the Providence Journal: "About 3:15, the engines conked out, but the light was going. We moved to the lantern. It was a three-story building. Waves were coming through the second floor. I've seen waves before, in the Bay of Fundy, but I never saw them like that. There was 11 tons of coal in the cellar, and it boiled it all out". Coast Guard crews lived at the lighthouse from 1939 until its automation in 1987. The crew worked in three man shifts, spending up to three weeks at the lighthouse followed by six days on shore. Somebody once explained why there were three men at the lighthouse at one time, if two men had a fight, there would be a third to break it up. The Coast Guardsmen spent much of their time fishing and working out in the small gym in the lighthouse. There really is no notable history of tragedy found on this lighthouse, so the question is who haunts this lighthouse in our present day? Probably the best known part of this station's history and lore is the lighthouse's infamous ghost, "Ernie." It's been claimed that in the 1920s or '30s, a keeper learned that his wife had run off with the captain of the Block Island ferry. Distraught, the keeper jumped, or fell, from the roof of the lighthouse to his death, as the story goes. Some versions of this story say that Ernie's real name may have been John Randolf or Randolph. If there's any truth behind the legend, it's been elusive. But there does seem to be unexplainable activity at the lighthouse. Doors have been known to open and close mysteriously, decks have swabbed themselves, televisions have turned themselves off, and the fog horn seems to turn on and off for no reason. Securely tied boats have mysteriously been set adrift. Coast Guard crews on duty reported frequently hearing mysterious knocks on their bedroom doors in the middle of the night, doors opening and closing, the television being turned on and off repeatedly, and covers pulled off the end of their bed. In 1987, New London Ledge Light became the last lighthouse on Long Island Sound to be automated. On the last day before automation, a Coast Guardsman entered in the log: "Rock of slow torture. Ernie's domain. Hell on earth, may New London Ledge's light shine on forever because I'm through. I will watch it from afar while drinking a brew". Since then, reports of Ernie's visits have dramatically decreased, most likely because there is hardly ever anyone there. This seems to be a relief to those who were stuck manning the light house. Today the lighthouse is leased to the New London Ledge Lighthouse Foundation. This group, with the help of grants and private contributions, has done some restoration of the building's interior. The plan is to eventually turn the building into a combination museum and bed and breakfast. There have been investigations at the lighthouse. In the late '90s, a TV reporter from Japan spent a night inside the lighthouse to investigate the story of Ernie, and loud whispering noises were heard through the night, audible on camera. The Atlantic Paranormal Society (TAPS), who have become known by their series "Ghost Hunters" on the Sci-Fi Channel, investigated the place in 2005 but made no significant observations. You can see the lighthouse fairly distantly from the shore of New London, especially in the Pequot Avenue area, and you can get a good view from the Fisher's Island and Block Island ferries leaving New London. Photo of New London Ledge Lighthouse:
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Yaquina Head Lighthouse - Oregon: The historic Yaquina Head Lighthouse, Oregon's tallest and second oldest continuously operating lighthouse, is also located on the headland. The nightly vigil of watching the light is gone as are the resident keepers and their quarters, but the staff of the Bureau of Land Management, now responsible for the tower, guide you through the lighthouse with tales of yesteryear. Even before you enter the structure and stroll across its unique marble floor, you are aware of its historic significance. The "1872" above the front door signifies that it was Oregon's fifth lighthouse built to guide mariners along the coast and into safe havens. As you climb the 110 of 114 steps of Oregon's tallest lighthouse at 93 feet, the presence of people who watched the light fills the tower with stories of what keeper life was like at Yaquina Head. You get a sense of what it was like to carry supplies up the spiral staircase as you breathe a little deeper. Construction started in August 1871 and continued into the winter of 1872-73. At the time it was built, the area was a wilderness. The road to the lighthouse was very primitive, so a number of the construction materials had to come by way of sea. The Lighthouse Tender Shubrick, a side-wheel steamer, was used to off-load supplies and workers at the bluffs of Yaquina Head. Twice, the schooner shuttling supplies from San Francisco grounded on the bar at the mouth of Yaquina Bay, and on a third occasion it "partially wrecked." Some of the metalwork for the lantern, which had been fabricated in Philadelphia, was lost in the ocean while being off-loaded onto the landing below the station, and duplicate pieces had to be ordered. Two small lighters capsized in rough seas near the same spot, spilling their cargoes. The tower was constructed from 370,000 bricks that were shipped to Newport from San Francisco. Its design called for two walls, one outside the other, with loose debris dropped in between; this was supposed to help the beacon withstand the headland’s vicious winds. With construction completed, the fixed white light was illuminated on the night of August 20, 1873, when Head Keeper Fayette Crosby lit the 4-wick lamp fueled by lard oil. The massive white conical shaped tower was built with double-walled brick, for insulation and dampness protection. It was equipped then as it is today with a first order Fresnel lens. It was manufactured in Paris in 1868 by Barbier & Fenestre, and shipped from France to Panama, transported across the isthmus, then shipped again to Oregon. Along with the construction of the lighthouse, a large dwelling for two keepers and their families was built east of the tower. There were also a smaller keeper's dwelling, stable, workshop, and a garden area. The children of lighthouse keepers and lighthouse visitors were not permitted to climb the 114 stairs in the tower to the watch room because the US Lighthouse Service feared they would trip and fall on the steep stairs or squeeze between the posts of the handrails. The 1930s brought many changes to the light station. The light's power source was changed from oil to electricity. Through the years new structures replaced the old. But, as one retired lighthouse keeper put it, "the buildings left a lot to be desired, as winds would come whistling through the buildings with enough force to lift a catalog off the floor." Eighty mile per hour winds are not uncommon at the headland, especially during the wet winter months. In 1966, the era of the lighthouse keeper at Yaquina Head ended. A modem was installed at Yaquina Head Lighthouse. When the light malfunctioned, the modem automatically notified the Coast Guard in Coos Bay, Oregon. A resident keeper was no longer need on the grounds. The unoccupied quarters eventually fell into disrepair and were removed in 1984. Who haunts this lighthouse? Of course, like the majority of haunted lighthouses, it is always a keeper or two. According to one ghost story, during construction a worker fell between the walls with the rubble, and could not be retrieved. The crew had no choice but to bury his body under the stones, and so the man’s spirit haunts the Yaquina Head Lighthouse. There’s no official record of any worker dying in the construction of the lighthouse; but just the same, some visitors claim to have heard the poor man hammering from within the walls, begging to be freed. However, there may be some validity to a spector of a previous keeper. Although most people think of lighthouse keepers as never leaving their post, sometimes they did, since there were often assistant keepers to tend the light. That was the case in the early years of the twentieth century, at Yaquina Head Lighthouse. Keeper Smith went into town for some much needed rest and recreation, leaving behind two assistants to take care of things, Herbert Higgins and Frank Story. He had full confidence the two could handle anything that came up. A few days after Smith left, Higgins took sick. Very weak, he took to bed and asked the second assistant to tend to the light. Story was less than conscientious, though, being addicted to the "demon rum," which he promptly began to consume with Higgins laid up. As night came on, Higgins realized that Story was passed out drunk, and realized he would have to light the beacon himself. He crawled out of bed, and made it up to the lantern room, where he collapsed and died. From the mainland, Smith saw the light was out and hurried to get back to the lighthouse, where he found Higgins dead and Story drunk. Blaming himself, he never left the light again, but from that day on, he'd hear the sounds of footsteps trying to make their way to the lantern room. From that time on, Frank Story never entered the tower without his faithful bulldog, fearing revenge from the now haunted light and the ghost of Herbert Higgens and until the day he was replaced, he was haunted by those footsteps. This has always been the set in stone haunted history of this lighthouse, even though I read one literary works on lighthouses that stated this had been dispelled by a decendant of the dead keepr Higgens. According to the author of that works, about 13 years ago now, a descendent of Herbert Higgins wrote to the Bureau of Land Management to say that “poor Higgins” left the service of Yaquina Head Lighthouse safe and sound. The man moved to Portland and became a dockworker, and died many years later in the Rose City. If this be true, maybe he returned from Rose City in death and still haunts the lighthouse that holds such a long standing legend concerning his name and demise. Yaquina Head Lighthouse stands today, little changed from the way it has appeared since 1873-the same classic tower; the same classic lens. It is Oregon's second oldest lighthouse and its tallest. The lighthouse grounds are open daily all year, dawn to dusk. The lighthouse is open daily for tours: summer 10 4; winter noon-4 (weather permitting). Group and private tours by arrangement contact (541) 574-3100. Located just north of Agate Beach north of Newport, Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area is open dawn to dusk and the interpretive center is open Junt through October, 10 a.m. to 6 p.m. and the rest of the year 10 a.m. to 4 p.m. The fee is $5 per car Up to nine passengers or $10 annual pass for five days or $35 for annual Oregon Coast Passport for every state and federal fee site on the coast. For more information contact the BLM (541-574-3100) or Yaquina Lights, Inc. (541-574-3129). Photo of Yaquina Head Lighthouse: ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Now, we will move on to other haunted lighthouses. They may not have made it on the top ten list, but many of them were deserving of a top rating in my book. Pemaquid Point Lighthouse - Maine: With marine trade, fishing, and the shipping of lumber increasing in midcoast Maine, Congress appropriated $4,000 for the building of a lighthouse at Pemaquid Point in 1826 to mark the entrances to Muscongus Bay and John Bay. The land was purchased from Samuel and Sarah Martin for $90. Thomaston bricklayer Jeremiah Berry was contracted to build the tower. Isaac Dunham of Bath, later a keeper at Minot's Ledge Light, was the first keeper at $350 per year. Dunham and many of his successors kept a small farm by the lighthouse, producing food and supplementary income. The original stone tower didn't last long, possibly because Jeremiah Berry may have used salt water to mix his lime mortar. The second contract stipulated that only fresh water was to be used. A new 38-foot stone tower was built in 1835 by Joseph Berry, a mason from Georgetown. Keeper Dunham signed a statement, vouching, "I will venture to say, a better tower and lantern never was built in the state." The original stone keeper's house was replaced by a wood-frame dwelling during the following year. Only one baby was born in the history of the light station: Susie Lawler, born to Keeper Joseph Lawler and his wife, Sophronia, in 1868. Pemaquid Point was usually not difficult to reach by land, but there was no landing place for vessels. Lighthouse tenders had to anchor on the rocks to bring supplies, making the lighthouse one of the least favorite of tender crews. On September 16, 1903, when Clarence Marr was keeper, the fishing schooner George F. Edmunds tried to run for South Bristol Harbor in a gale. The vessel was driven by a strong gust into the rocks near Pemaquid Point and was dashed to pieces. The captain and 13 crew members died in the wreck; only two were saved. The captain of another schooner died near Pemaquid Point in the same storm. Keeper Leroy S. Elwell rescued three people from a capsized sailboat on August 6, 1930. Elwell received a commendation from the Secretary of Commerce for his heroism under "extremely hazardous conditions." Leroy S. Elwell was still keeper in 1934 when the light became one of the first in Maine to be automated. Sidney Baldwin wrote in Casting Off from Boothbay Harbor: "There was a wail of grief all along the coast when the government in its policy of cutting down the Lighthouse Service and transferring it to the Coast Guard electrified Pemaquid Light. There is a big keeper's house standing empty. The light flashes by day and night with no one to guard it. The necessary work of cleaning the lenses and making minor repairs is done by a visiting light keeper." The house didn't remain empty for too long. In March 1940, residents voted at a town meeting to authorize Bristol's selectmen to purchase the property, except for the lighthouse tower. The surrounding property became the town of Bristol's Lighthouse Park, and the keeper's house eventually was converted into the Fishermen's Museum. The museum opened in 1972 and has been operated since then by volunteers from the local area. Although this isn't noted as one of the more haunted lighthouses, it does have a ghost associated with it. Not in the tower, but in the former keeper's house, now the Fisherman's Museum run by the Town of Bristol, there occasionally appears a red haired lady in a shawl. Usually she's near the fireplace. No one seems to have any history on her, as no one ever actually died in the lighthouse or the keepers house. Nevertheless, she has been seen on occasion. Perhaps she was the wife of one of the 13 who died in the shipwreck near Pemaquid Point, and in death she looks for her husband. Photo of Pemaquid Point Lighthouse: Photo taken in 1860 ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Seguin Island Lighthouse - Maine: The light station is Maine's second oldest. For more than two centuries, Seguin has been an important guide for mariners heading down the coast for Portland as well as those entering the Kennebec River toward Bath and other ports. Fifty-five local merchants petitioned the General Court of Massachusetts for a lighthouse on Seguin in 1786. The petition noted that the "island Seguin seems to be designated by nature for this purpose." Nearly a decade passed before the building of the lighthouse was approved by President George Washington in 1794. The station was built in 1795-96 at a cost of about $6,400. The builder of the first wooden tower was General Henry Dearborn, who also built the first (1803) Cape Hatteras Lighthouse. Seguin's first keeper, at $200 per year, was Count John Polereczky, a Hungarian Hussar who fought with French troops during the American Revolution. He obtained the keeper's position as a reward for his service in the war. Polereczky complained that his salary was too low, as he had to purchase his own boats and supplies. Because of the constant pounding of the elements, the original wooden tower had to be rebuilt in 1819, this time of stone. When the engineer I. W. P. Lewis inspected Seguin Island Light in 1842, he found the light too dim. He recommended the addition of 10 lamps to the 14 lamps and reflectors already in use. The 1819 lighthouse proved sturdier than the first, but a new 53-foot stone tower was built in 1857. The nine foot high lens was large enough for the keepers to go completely inside it to light the lamp. A duplex keepers' house was also built in 1857. A brick fog signal house, 32 feet square, was built in 1889 to house the fog signal equipment. Keeper Herbert Spinney collected and mounted birds since boyhood, and the collection filled much of the dwelling's wall space from floor to ceiling. This "bird museum" drew increasing numbers of visitors to the island, and eventually the keeper began charging an admission fee of a dime to keep the crowds more manageable. Many of the birds collected by Spinney were found dead after flying into the lantern glass of the tower. On one memorable morning, Spinney found 275 birds dead around the lighthouse. Elson Small was keeper from 1926 to 1930. His wife, Connie painted a vivid portrait of life on Seguin in a book that she wrote. Mrs. Small remembered spirited singalongs and wrestling matches between the keepers and visiting carpentry crews. She especially loved being in the lantern room at sunset. rank Bracey, formerly on the Portland Lightship, was one of the keepers in the 1920s and '30s. He claimed to have seen seagulls knocked from the air by the concussion of the foghorn, which on at least one occasion was heard as far away as Bath, 14 miles distant. Because of the steep quarter-mile climb up to the lighthouse, a tramway system was installed, with tracks leading from the boathouse up to the keeper's house. Supplies were loaded into a car that was brought up more than 1,000 feet on the tracks by means of a hoisting apparatus run by a diesel engine. In 1949, a keeper's wife, Joyce Irvine, and her 18-month old daughter were riding in the car when it broke loose. The woman was badly hurt, but she managed to toss the baby safely to the soft grass. From that point, the Coast Guard didn't allow passengers on the tramway. The last keeper's family to live on the island was that of George F. Johns of Bath. There were also two assistant keepers under Johns, with a total of five children among them. Mrs. Johns said she never dared let their two little girls out of her sight because of the high precipices on the island. Four Coast Guard keepers were assigned to the lighthouse, with three on the island and one on shore leave at all times. The light was automated in 1985 and the keepers were removed. The last Coast Guard keeper was First Class Boatswain Mate Edward T. Brown. A Coast Guard crew arrived to remove the giant Fresnel lens, only to be told by local lobsterman Pat Moffatt that an act of Congress was needed to dismantle the lens. The men checked and found out it was true. The lens, valued at $8 million, remains in place. Like many old light stations, this one also has its ghost stories. Seguin, in fact, is the home of one of the more gruesome tales of haunting in the state if not the entire U.S. Seguin Light sits on an island 10 miles from Boothbay Harbor. Although it's fairly close to the mainland (3 miles to the nearest shore), in the winter it would get very isolated. One keeper, newly married, brought his young wife out with him to tend the light. Becoming very bored, the wife complained about not having anything to do. Thinking it would occupy her, and keep her mind off the boredom, the keeper ordered a piano to be brought to the island before the next winter set in. Winching it up the side of the rocky ledge that is Seguin, he proudly presented it to her. The wife was delighted, but could not play without sheet music. Fortunately, one song had come with the piano, so she set to playing it. By this time, the island was icebound, no other deliveries could come in. She played her piano, though. The same song, over and over and over again, driving her husband insane. Even when he had had new sheet music brought out to the island, she kept playing the original tune. Finally he'd had enough, took an axe and chopped the piano to bits. When she complained, he turned to her and chopped her up with the axe, nearly decapitating her. Then he killed himself. It's said, on a quiet night, you can hear the tinkling of the piano floating up the Kennebec River. The keeper has also been seen, still tending to his duties. Maine writer William O. Thomson claims that keepers told him about the spectre of a young girl they saw running and laughing in the house, the ghost it's said, of a keeper's daughter who died on the island. Other keepers have reported doors opening and closing themselves and mysterious coughing not produced by any of the keepers. Another story about the automation of Seguin Island Light, related by William O. Thomson, concerns the crew that arrived to take all the furniture from the keeper's house. The crew packed up the furniture and spent the night in the keeper's house, planning to leave in the morning. The officer in charge was rudely awakened by a figure standing at the foot of his bed, pleading, "Don't take the furniture. Please leave my home alone!" The next day the crew went ahead and loaded the furniture into a boat. Suddenly the chain holding the boat broke, the engine stopped and the boat sank with all the furniture. After automation, the future of the station was uncertain. Concerned local citizens led by real estate broker Anne Webster founded the Friends of Seguin Island in 1986. The Friends of Seguin Island received a 10-year lease on the property from the Coast Guard three years later. In February 1998, under the Maine Lights Program, the property was transferred to the group. Grants and donations paid for the restoration of the keeper's house. Since 1990, different caretakers have lived at Seguin in the summer. Photo of Seguin Island Lighthouse: ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Ram Island Lighthouse - Maine: Ram Island, in Fisherman Island Passage at the entrance to Boothbay Harbor, has a fascinating history complete with ghosts and shipwrecks. The island's light station has been rescued in recent years from the brink of extinction. in the mid-1800s when a fisherman, after narrowly escaping the dangerous rocks near the island, began hanging a lantern at night for the benefit of local mariners. The fisherman left the area after a number of years and the lantern was kept by a second keeper, then a third. The third lantern keeper anchored a dory and rigged the lamp in its bow. It became the custom for the last fisherman coming into the harbor each day to light the lantern. This ended when the dory was smashed in a storm. For a time, the lone resident of Fisherman's Island maintained a lantern. Apparently the light he displayed was too weak, causing an increase in wrecks. Once when a schooner was in danger of coming up on the rocks the fisherman got a line to the vessel and the crew managed to escape to the shore. Soon there was another wreck in which most of the crew were killed. For some years after this, there was no light on Ram Island. Locals talked of ghosts that warned vessels away from the dangerous rocks. One captain swore he was warned by a fog whistle at Ram Island during a snowstorm, which was impossible since there was no such signal there. Another fisherman was in danger of running into the rocks when he saw a burning boat and changed his direction. The next day he saw no trace of the mysterious vessel. On another unusually dark night, a sailor was approaching Ram when he saw a woman in white waving a lighted torch over her head. The sailor veered off just in time to avoid being dashed on the rocks. Finally, a schooner helmsman claimed that a bolt of lightning illuminated the area moments before the vessel would have struck the ledges. So interestingly enough, it seems there were ghost stories before the lighthouse even existed, and they all focused around the need for the lighthouse. There were four shipwrecks alone on May 27, 1866. When the 400-foot transatlantic steamer, California, ran aground, the government was finally convinced a lighthouse needed to be there and congress finally appropriated $25,000 for a lighthouse in 1882. The light went into service on November 5, 1883. The tower was erected some yards offshore and a wooden walkway connected it to the island. A Victorian keeper's house was also built in 1883; a fog bell and bell tower were added to the station in 1897. The first keeper was Samuel John Cavanor, a native of Halifax, Nova Scotia, who stayed at the light until he died in 1913. He lived on Ram Island with his wife, May, and their five daughters, who attended school in Boothbay. Cavanor had a wooden leg. He had been on the crew of a lighthouse tender, and a buoy raised by a derrick swung and crushed his leg. He had served as an assistant keeper at Seguin Island before going to Ram Island. Soon after the lighthouse was lit for the first time, a severe hailstorm broke the lantern glass and the lamp was blown out by the wind. Cavanor tried to keep the light going through the night by shielding it with newspapers. Then in 1903 a vessel ran into the walkway to the lighthouse and it was destroyed, but soon rebuilt. The second keeper, Almon Mitchell, who served from 1913 to 1925; died on the island on May 4, 1925 at the age of 68. He and his wife Emily Maria Mitchell had five children during their stay at Ram Island, between 1913 and 1923. The light was automated in 1965 and the Coast Guard keepers were removed. The station soon fell victim to vandals. The house was damaged, and in 1975 the fourth-order Fresnel lens was stolen. The lens was eventually recovered, and it's now at the museum of the Boothbay Region Historical Society. The boathouse was destroyed in the great blizzard of February 6-7, 1978. We already know the area was haunted before the lighthouse was erected, with such tales as a woman in white waving a lighted torch over her head appearing to warn sailors of the dangers, as the fisherman who stated: "I was in danger of running into the rocks when I saw a burning boat near shore, about to smash on the rocks and in the boat was this woman, warning me away. I quickly changed direction. The next day I saw no trace of the burning boat or the mysterious woman." But does this female apparation still haunt the property of the lighthouse? The answer is that she actually has been seen even in recent years, manifesting just in time to prevent tragedies, such as the one mentioned by this boat owner: "Seeing her, I spun my wheel just in time to avoid being dashed on the rocks." "There was a flash of lightning, and there, standing on the reef at Ram Island, waving her hands in warning was this lady all in white, as if full of electricity. If it weren't for her I would have struck the ledge." It seems that only those in boats and in peril are likely to witness this female ghost. It is also reported that there is a spirit of a man haunting the lighthouse, although I have found no detailed incidents. This is not so far fetched however, as we know that most lighthouses tend to have the spirit of at least one of the light keepers lingering around, still faithfully on the job. The resident male ghost could be either that of Cavnor or Mitchell, as they both passed away while on duty. The light station was offered to the town of Boothbay, but the high maintenance costs convinced town officials to decline the offer. In 1983, the keeper's house was slated to be destroyed when the Grand Banks Schooner Museum Trust, associated with the Boothbay Railway Museum, stepped in and leased the station except for the tower. Under the Maine Lights Program, the property was transferred to the Grand Banks Schooner Museum Trust in 1998. The Ram Island Preservation Society, part of the Grand Banks Schooner Museum Trust, has restored the house. In late 2002, they reconstructed the walkway from the shore to the lighthouse tower. Ram Island Preservation Society (Part of the Grand Banks Schooner Museum Trust), P.O. Box 123, Boothbay, Maine 04537. (207) 633-4727 Photo of Ram Island Lighthouse: ![]()
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Hendrick's Head Lighthouse - Maine: Hendricks Head Light was established at the mouth of the Sheepscot River in 1829, near the part of Southport Island now known as Cozy Harbor and six miles from Boothbay Harbor. The first lighthouse was a granite keeper's dwelling with the tower on its roof. It exhibited a fixed white light 39 feet above the water. Jaruel Marr, who was born the same year the lighthouse was built, became keeper in 1866, after returning from the Civil War. He supposedly was appointed keeper at Hendrick's Head as "token compensation" for the wounds he suffered in the war. Jaruel Marr served as keeper until 1895, when he retired. A vessel wrecked near Hendrick's Head in a March gale sometime around 1870 (1875, according to a 1955 newspaper story). The keeper and his wife could see those on board the wrecked ship hanging to the rigging, practically frozen to death. The high wind and rough seas made it impossible for the keeper to launch a dory. As evening arrived the helpless keeper saw a strange bundle floating toward the shore. The keeper snatched the bundle from the waves with a boat hook and discovered that it was actually two featherbeds tied together. He cut apart the ropes and discovered a box between the beds. Opening the box, the keeper discovered a tiny baby girl, crying and very much alive. The box also contained a note from the baby's mother, commending the girl's soul to God. The keeper and his wife immediately took the baby to the warmth of their kitchen. After seeing that the baby was in good health, the keeper went outside and saw that the vessel had vanished beneath the waves. Wreckage was soon washing ashore. The keeper and his wife adopted the baby girl and raised her at the lighthouse. Some historians have questioned if this was a true event, but Elisa Trepanier, Jaruel Marr's great-great granddaughter, says, "I know the story of the baby girl in the mattress to be true as told to us by Jaruel's children and grandchildren. The baby girl was adopted by a doctor and his wife who were summer residents, as Jaruel and Catherine had too many children of their own to care for. I remember the baby girl was named Seaborn." The present 39-foot square brick tower replaced the first lighthouse in 1875. Jaruel Marr recorded that the family moved into their new home on September 30 of that year, extremely happy with their new cook stove. A covered walkway connected the lighthouse to the keeper's house. A pyramidal skeleton-type bell tower was added in 1891 and an oil house was built in 1895. For several years before the bell tower was built, a small hand-operated bell was in place. Jaruel Marr and wife Catherine had five children, and all three of their sons became Maine lighthouse keepers. On July 1, 1895 Wolcott Marr took over as keeper at the lighthouse. Wolcott Marr and his wife Hattie (Hatch) had three children when they moved to Hendrick's Head, and six more would be born during their stay at the lighthouse. Wolcott Marr remained keeper at Hendrick's Head until his death in 1930. According to some sources, Wolcott Marr had an unusual distinction: he was born, married, and died in the same room at Hendrick's Head Light. The light was discontinued in 1933. The light station and the entire peninsula were sold to Dr. William P. Browne of Connecticut. Until then, the house had no electricity or plumbing. After electricity came to the house in 1951 the Coast Guard decided to reactivate the light, since boating traffic in the area had increased. A ferocious storm on January 9, 1978, demolished the boathouse and also destroyed the walkway that had connected the lighthouse to the fog bell tower. Dr. Browne's daughter Mary Charbonneau and her husband Gil owned the lighthouse for many years. In 1991, Benjamin and Luanne Russell of Alabama bought the 4 1/2-acre lighthouse property, and they subsequently restored all of the structures. Todays reportings of ghostly specters include the ghost of a beautiful young woman dressed in white walking the shores of the beach near Hendrick's Head Lighthouse. Is she the ghost of a woman who was found drowned there one morning, or is it the mother of a shipwrecked baby, filled with grief and longing? Yes, there is another woman attached to the lighthouse. The tale’s origins date to an early December day in 1931, when a woman, dressed in black, arrived by bus in nearby Boothbay Harbor. The woman registered in a local hotel as Louise G. Meade of Pittsburgh. She asked directions to a sweeping ocean view for “one last good look” before she headed home. She was directed to a wharf in Boothbay Harbor, but she took the much longer walk to Southport and Hendricks Head instead. One of the last people to speak with her, Charlie Pinkham of West Southport, later said, “She was a nice woman. A refined woman. A lady! In her 40s I’d say, maybe late 40s. Not a beauty, no, but nice looking.” She stopped at Pinkham’s store and asked the way to the ocean. Pinkham’s wife directed her to Hendricks Head, but warned her that it was growing dark and windy. Minutes later, the lighthouse keeper at Hendricks Head, Charles L. Knight, arrived at Pinkham’s store. The Pinkhams asked him if he had seen the woman. Strangely, he hadn’t, although it seemed as if he must have passed her. As he walked back in the near darkness to the lighthouse, Knight watched carefully for the woman. He caught a fleeting glimpse of a person moving swiftly near one of the cottages at the shore. He shouted, but there was no reply. If he did see her, Knight was the last person to see the woman alive. The woman’s body was later found, and the only identifying mark found was a Lord and Taylor tag on her black dress. It was generally believed she drowned herself, a view supported by the fact that she was found with her wrists bound by a leather belt, looped through the handle of a heavy flatiron (seems to me that murder would be suspected over suicide, how could she bind her own wrists and loop them through a heavy flatiron?). Her family couldn’t be located, and the woman was buried in a West Southport’s Union Cemetery with a small field stone marking the grave. Rose O’Brien later wrote in the Lewiston Journal, “Her grave, in time, may be forgotten, but she will never be forgotten because already she is a Maine coast legend, this shadowy figure, the Lady of the Dusk who haunts Hendricks Head.” Ever since that evening in 1931, there have been reports of the “Lady Ghost of Hendricks Head,” always seen, just before dusk turns to blackness. So there are probably two spectors, a woman in white and a woman in black, that haunt the lighthouse. Photo of Hendrick's Head Lighthouse: ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Owl's Head Lighthouse - Maine: Nobody is quite sure how Owl's Head got its name. Some say the picturesque promontory resembles an owl from the water, but it takes great imagination to see anything of the sort. In 1605, it was known as Bedabedec Point, an Indian word meaning "Cape of the Winds." The village called Owl's Head became a town in 1921; it had previously been part of South Thomaston. he growing lime trade in nearby Rockland and Thomaston led to the establishment of a light station at Owl's Head, at the entrance to Rockland Harbor. President John Quincy Adams authorized the building of Owl's Head Light in 1825. The president and Fifth Auditor Stephen Pleasanton, in charge of lighthouses, clashed over the appointment of the first keeper. President Adams' candidate of course won out, and Isaac Sterns became the first keeper at $350 per year. The lighthouse is an unusually short 30-foot brick tower. A tall lighthouse was not necessary because of the height of the promontory. The light is exactly 100 feet above sea level. One of the most memorable events in the history of Owl's Head Light took place during the storm of December 22, 1850. Five vessels went aground in this storm between Rockland Harbor and Spruce Head. At nearby Jameson's Point, a small schooner from Massachusetts was anchored. The captain had gone ashore, leaving the mate, Richard B. Ingraham, a seaman named Roger Elliott, and one passenger, Lydia Dyer, who was engaged to Ingraham. The packet was to start for Boston the next morning. Near midnight the storm intensified. The cables holding the vessel snapped and the schooner headed across the Penobscot Bay toward Owl's Head. It quickly smashed into the rocky ledges south of the lighthouse. The three on board huddled together on the deck and were soon practically frozen in the surf. They pulled blankets around themselves in an effort to stay dry. As the schooner broke apart, Elliott escaped the vessel and managed to climb over the ice-covered rocks to the shore. Practically dead from exhaustion, he reached the road to the lighthouse. The keeper happened to be driving by in a sleigh, and he took the dazed Elliott to the keeper's house where he gave him hot rum and put him in bed. Barely able to speak, Elliott was able to tell the keeper about the others still on the schooner. A dozen men were rounded up, and they headed for the shore. The rescue party soon found the schooner and got on board. There they found a block of ice enveloping Ingraham and Dyer. From all appearances the couple was dead, but the rescue party was determined to leave nothing to chance. The men brought the block to the kitchen of the keeper's house. They chipped the ice away, keeping the pair in cold water. Then they slowly raised the temperature of the water and began to exercise the limbs of the victims. After almost two hours of this massaging and exercising, Lydia Dyer showed signs of life. An hour later Ingraham opened his eyes and said, "What is all this? Where are we?" By the next day Dyer and Ingraham were able to eat, but it was months before they were fully recovered. They eventually married and had four children. Roger Elliott never fully recovered, but his struggle to reach safety had resulted in the rescue of the other two. Lydia Dyer and Richard Ingraham will always be celebrated as the "Frozen Couple of Owl's Head." Maddocks became keeper at Owl's Head in 1873, and there were at least 11 shipwrecks in the vicinity during his 23 years as keeper. Mrs. Maddocks remembered a particularly cold winter when the bay was so frozen that she observed a horse and sleigh cross from Rockland to Vinalhaven. ugustus B. Hamor, previously keeper for 17 years at Maine's Egg Rock Light, came to Owl's Head as keeper in 1930. Keeper Hamor had a springer spaniel named Spot who gained wide fame among local mariners. Spot learned to pull the rope that rang the fog bell with his teeth, a ritual he repeated for every approaching vessel. The boats would answer with a whistle or bell, and Spot would bark excitedly. Spot's unusual abilities turned out to be good for more than entertainment. One stormy Christmas, the mail boat out of Matinicus was late, due to the fog. Spot heard the boat, and ran out to do his self-appointed duty. Unfortunately, due to the storm, the rope was frozen and he couldn't pull it. Spot ran out to the edge of the cliff and started barking loudly. The mailboat's captain heard him, and realized where he was and turned before he hit the rocks. The much beloved Spot is said to be buried on the side of the hill near the former location of the fog bell. Gerard J. Graham, right, was the Coast Guard Officer in Charge at Owls Head Light 1987-1988. The last civilian keeper at Owl's Head Light was Douglas L. Larrabee, who retired in 1963. Malcolm Rouse, formerly at West Quoddy Head Light, was the last Coast Guard keeper at Owl's Head before its 1989 automation. The 1854 keeper's house remains a residence for Coast Guard personnel while the surrounding grounds are now a state park. Owls Head is inhabited by two spectors, one a former keeper who keeps the brass polished, and the other known as the "Little Lady," who is often seen in the kitchen. Doors have slammed shut unexpectedly, silverware gets rattled, but mostly the Little Lady gives a feeling of peace when she has been encountered. But she's not the only one. The unknown keeper has been encountered by other, later keepers, who have usually seen him out of the corner of the eye. His footprints have been seen outside in the snow. A 3 year old girl once woke up her parents and told them they needed to get up because it was going to get foggy, and they needed to ring the fog bell. She announced, "Fog's rolling in! Time to put the foghorn on!". The parents had never brought up that subject with their daughter and had no clue where she would have picked up the lingo. When questioned on how she knew, she revealed she had an "imaginary friend," whose picture suspiciously resembled an old sea captain. The lighthouse keeper's house is currently used as quarters for the local (Rockland) Coast Guard Chief Warrant Officer, and this specter keeps lowering the thermostat. Obviously frugality passes on into the afterlife. He also is noted for polishing the brass in the light tower. Brasswork was the bane of lightkeepers, as the Lighthouse Board required it to be polished daily, so it's very possible this is one very welcome ghost for that reason. Today, the bell tower is gone, but an 1895 oil house remains. The wooden ramp and stairway leading to the tower are unique among New England lighthouses. n December 2007, the lighthouse tower was licensed to the American Lighthouse Foundation. The goal is to raise an estimated $257,000 for a complete restoration. The effort will be led by retired Coast Guard officer Paul Dilger, who lived at the lighthouse with his wife, Mary Ellen, for three years. 207-941-4014 Photos of Owl's Head Lighthouse: ![]()
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Boon Island Light - Maine: In the summer of 1682, a coastal trading vessel, the Increase, was wrecked on an unnamed island about 400 square yards in size off the coast of southern Maine. The four survivors -- three white men and one Indian -- spent a month on the island, living on fish and gulls' eggs. One day they saw smoke rising from Mount Agamenticus several miles away, so they built a fire in response. The Indians at Mount Agamenticus saw the smoke from the island, and the stranded men were soon rescued. Seeing their survival as a boon granted by God, the men named the island Boon Island. It's an ironic name for the desolate pile of rocks poet Celia Thaxter called "the forlornest place that can be imagined." The most famous incident in the island's history was the wreck of the British ship Nottingham Galley on December 11, 1710. The survivors struggled to stay alive for over three weeks, finally resorting to cannibalism. The harrowing story was fictionalized by Kenneth Roberts in his novel Boon Island. In recent years cannons have been located in about 25 feet of water that are believed to have been on board the Nottingham Galley. After the Nottingham Galley disaster, local fishermen began leaving barrels of provisions on Boon Island in case of future wrecks. In 1797, General Benjamin Lincoln, local lighthouse superintendent, met with the Boston Marine Society to discuss the building of an unlighted beacon on Boon Island for the safety of local fishermen and coastal traders. Construction began the following July. The first wooden tower as finished in 1799. It survived until 1804, when it was destroyed by a tremendous storm. A stone day beacon was erected in the summer of 1805. Three of the workers involved in erecting the tower drowned when their boat capsized as they left the island. In June 1811, General Lincoln recommended a lighthouse on Boon Island. The tower, completed by that winter, exhibited a fixed light 32 feet above the water. The first keeper, after witnessing the vulnerability of the low island (14 feet above sea level at its highest point ) to storms, left after only a few weeks. The second keeper, David Oliver, also resigned and was succeeded by Thomas Hanna. Hanna resigned in 1816. Maybe storm threats were not the only reason the keepers kept resigning. The next keeper, former mariner Eliphalet Grover, a York native born in 1778, served a remarkable 22 years at the station. After suffering great damage in storms, the lighthouse was rebuilt in 1831. It was built of rubblestone and stood 49 feet tall, with an octagonal wrought iron lantern. The light was 69 feet above mean high water. Capt. Nathaniel Baker became keeper in 1846. The schooner Caroline was wrecked on the island in the same year, and Baker rescued the crew. Despite his heroism, Baker was dismissed as keeper in 1849 and replaced by John Thompson, who had been dismissed earlier. In those days lighthouse keeping jobs were frequently given as political favors. The present lighthouse was constructed in 1854, along with a new dwelling. The stone tower is 133 feet high -- the tallest lighthouse in New England. It is 25 feet in diameter at its base and 12 feet in diameter at the top. In 1889, it was reported that the keeper's dwelling had problems with leaks and was cold and unsuitable for occupation. The house was largely rebuilt and an upper story was added. In the following year a stone and brick oil house was built. Capt. William C. Williams, a native of Kittery, Maine, went to Boon Island as an assistant in 1885 and served as principal keeper from 1888 to 1911. Captain Williams had pleasant times at Boon Island, but he later remembered the danger of the job: "The seas would clean the ledge right off sometimes... I was always thinking over just what I would do in order to save my life, should the whole station be swept away". In an 1888 storm, Williams and the others on the island had to take refuge at the top of the tower for three days. Compared to this storm, said the keeper, the famous "Portland" Gale of 1898 was "just a breeze." One Thanksgiving, Williams and his assistants were unable to go ashore to buy a turkey. Providence intervened when a dozen black ducks smashed into the tower, providing the keepers with their Thanksgiving dinner. A Boon Island legend concerns a keeper by the last name of Bright, who arrived at the island with his new bride. A mere four months after arriving, a surge tide from a winter storm swept the island, and while trying to secure the island's boat, the keeper slipped on the rocks and drowned. Katherine Bright somehow managed to pull his body ashore and dragged it to the lighthouse. She left his body at the foot of the stairs, and took over lighthouse duties for five days and nights, without eating or sleeping. His wife realized the importance of keeping the light and, despite her grief, managed to climb the tower's 168 stairs and light the lamp for the duration of the storm, which lasted several days. Soon after the storm ended local mariners noticed the lack of a light at Boon Island. They landed to investigate and found the young woman wandering the rocks aimlessly, driven mad by grief and exhaustion, some legends say the fishermen found Mrs. Bright sitting on the stairs holding the frozen corpse of her husband. She and her husband's corpse were taken ashore, but by that time she'd completely lost her mind. She died only a few weeks after being rescued. Her screeches can still be heard along with her apparition being witnessed. Another story concerns keepers who were marooned on the island for weeks by bad weather. Their food had almost run out when they sent a bottle adrift containing an urgent plea for help. A passing schooner picked up the bottle and managed to get a barrel of food to the keepers, which may have saved their lives. Coast Guardsman Kendrick Capon was at Boon Island for a time in the 1950s. Forty years later, Capon told the York Weekly, "The island isn't much bigger than my yard, and after a while, you'd sense where the other person was. You'd become accustomed to hearing the sounds." One day, after becoming aware that the other keeper was not in the house, Capon looked outside to see the man, a steeplejack's son, shimmying his way down the lightning rod that runs the length of the tower. When he got halfway down, the copper rod began to cut into the man's hands. By the time he reached the bottom his hands were cut to the bone. "He was in bad shape," remembered Capon. Capon recalled being stuck on Boon Island for 83 days in one stretch, living on bologna, bread, and crackers. When Capon was at Boon Island, the keepers would pass the time by telling stories. "We would sit and tell ghost stories to each other until late and then we'd strap on a gun to go out and check the motors," he recalled. "That's where all the cannibalism took place." With all the tragedy that has occurred on or by this island, it is not hard to imagine the ghosts that could possibly be malingering here. A ghost has been seen by many people on Boon Island. The ghost is described as "a sad faced young woman shrouded in white." This phantom has been seen by keepers and fishermen. Some say the woman in white is the ghost of the mistress of the captain of the Nottingham Galley, while others claim there never was a woman on the Nottingham Galley and she has to be the young bride, Katherine Bright, whose husband died on the island one winter. Bob Roberts, a Coast Guard keeper in the early 1970s, says the other keepers asked him if he believed in ghosts when he first went to Boon Island. Roberts laughed at the time, but strange events on the island soon had him thinking differently. One time, he and fellow crewman Bob Edwards were off the island fishing, and they drifted too far from the island to make it back in time to turn the light on before dark. There wasn't a person on the island, but somehow the light was glowing brightly by the time the keepers returned. On other occasions Roberts and others heard doors mysteriously opening and closing. When he would go to turn on the fog signal, Roberts said he felt as if "someone was watching." Another former Coast Guard keeper, Dave Wells, says that one time the station's Labrador retriever chased "something from one end of the island to the other and back again." The Coast Guardsmen couldn't see what the dog was chasing. "We figured the island must be haunted, but nothing ever bothered us," says Wells. I say, how could it not be with it's traumatic history. In 1932, Boon Island was swept by a storm that sent 70-foot waves over the island, severing the submarine telephone cable. A severe storm in February 1972 a destroyed the boathouse and swept boulders, along with five feet of water, into the keeper's house. The Coast Guard crew had to use a jackhammer to remove the giant stones. Even this wasn't as bad as the great blizzard of 1978. The early February storm, one of the worst in New England history, flooded the 1899 keeper's house to a depth of five feet and scattered boulders around like they were pebbles. The Coast Guard keepers were forced to take refuge in the tower. The following day the keepers were removed by helicopter. It was estimated that $100,000 worth of damage was done at Boon Island by the blizzard of '78. Shortly after the blizzard of '78, the light was automated. I guess the Coast Guard did not want any more ghosts on Boon Island. In May 2000, the lighthouse was licensed by the Coast Guard to the American Lighthouse Foundation. On April 1, 2003, the "Republic of Boon Island" declared its (fictional) independence in an effort to raise funds by selling citizenships and political offices. As you can see from the photos below, it is a spooky and tight quarters place to have to live on. Photos of Boon Island Lighthouse: ![]() ![]()
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Bird Island Lighthouse - Massachusetts Stark little Bird Island, less than two acres, is just a few hundred yards off Butler's Point near the entrance to Marion's Sippican Harbor, on the west side of Buzzards Bay. Bird Island was an ideal place to establish a lighthouse that would serve to guide mariners to Sippican Harbor and points north and Congress appropriated it on March 3, 1819. A conical rubblestone tower was constructed, 25 feet tall, with an 18-foot diameter at the base, and a 10-foot diameter at the top. A 12-foot- tall iron lantern surmounted the tower. The accompanying stone dwelling was 20 by 34 feet, and a covered walkway connected the house and tower. William S. Moore, a veteran of the War of 1812, was appointed as the first keeper, and the light went into operation on September 1, 1819. Local legend claims that Keeper Moore was a pirate and that he was banished to Bird Island as punishment. He is said to have been left without a boat, with supplies delivered periodically. Some accounts claim that Moore murdered his wife at the lighthouse and disappeared soon after. A gun was found in a secret hiding place, along with a bag of tobacco, when the original keeper's house was torn down around 1890. The gun was believed by some to be the murder weapon. Others claim that he prevented his ailing wife from seeking medical attention on the mainland, and that she died as a result. Keeper Moore claimed that his wife died of the effects of tobacco. Although she is supposedly buried on the island there is no sign of the grave today. When the gun was found, a note was also found that was signed by Keeper Moore. It blamed certain local residents for providing the tobacco that he said had killed his "Dearly Loved" wife. Some have disputed that Moore was a pirate and was imprisoned on the island, that instead he sought his appointment so that he could work on his inventions which include conducting experiments with the heating of whale oil to keep it from freezing in the winter months. He also worked on the development of "air boxes" to be stored on boats to help prevent sinking. But his wife did definitely die on the island, and there are those who say it has been haunted or cursed ever since. According to an article in the New Bedford Standard Times, legend has it that some later keepers were frightened "by the ghost of a hunched-over old woman, rapping at the door during the night." A severe storm struck the area at the end of December 1819, devastating the new light station. Keeper John Clark wrote in 1843 that there was a well on the island, but no water. He had to make a two mile boat trip to get drinking water, and all laundry had to be washed on the mainland. He also complained that the tower was leaky and the wood "all more or less rotted." He said the "whole light-house is in a bad state, and I think was not built in a faithful and workmanlike manner." On September 8, 1869, a storm of "unprecedented severity" caused widespread destruction in New England. The seas covered Bird Island completely during the storm, demolishing 280 feet of sea wall. The waves also destroyed a barn and carried away other outbuildings and fences. The official report stated that the lighthouse station was reduced "from a condition of perfect order to a perfect wreck." The keeper's dwelling was reported to be in a dilapidated condition in 1888. The annual report of the Lighthouse Board stated that the house was beyond repair and that "It would be better economy, better for the comfort of the keeper, and for the efficiency of the public service that a new dwelling be built at the earliest day practicable." The 1889 annual report of the Lighthouse Board contained the following confusing entry on Bird Island: "Measures are in progress for rebuilding the dwelling and tower surmounting it." The house was certainly rebuilt at this time, but the tower at Bird Island never surmounted the dwelling. This statement by the Lighthouse Board seems to account for the common belief that the lighthouse was rebuilt in 1889. The present tower appears to have survived from 1819. The lantern and deck were again replaced in 1899, and various other repairs were made at that time. Peter Murray became keeper in 1891. In 1980, Murray's daughter, 91-year-old Frances Murray Rathbeg, recalled the family's life on the island, which she called a "sad place." The harsh winters, said Rathbeg, were especially difficult. During one winter, Keeper Murray's 11-month-old son, Gerald, became ill with pneumonia. "We had no way to get off the island," Rathbeg saidrecalled. "The baby coughed and screamed." With no other way to signal for help, the desperate keeper extinguished the light to attract attention. Help eventually arrived, but too late; the baby had died. The Murrays buried their child on the mainland and never returned to Bird Island. As was often the case on island lighthouse stations, the families on Bird Island kept animals to augment their food supply. Keeper Zimri Tobias "Toby" Robinson brought a cow to the island while he was keeper. According to his brother's grandson, Keeper Robinson attached a rope to the cow and tied it to his skiff, then rowed to the island with the cow swimming behind. Maurice Babcock was keeper at Bird Island from 1919 to 1926. Babcock later became the last civilian keeper of Boston Light. The light was taken out of service on June 15, 1933. Who haunts the lighthouse of Bird Island? No one really knows for sure I guess. It could be the dead, and buried on the Island, wife of Keeper Moore, and many believe that is exactly who it is. Other legends go as such, that Moore brought with him his wife, a blowsy wench who'd married him in his more prosperous days. She was a heavy tobacco user, and suffered from tuberculosis.Mrs. Moore was forbidden to leave the island by her husband, since he feared she'd leave him for someone else. The dampness of lighthouse life left her in pretty bad shape, and the lack of tobacco on the island led her to despairing cries which could be heard on the mainland. The townspeople took pity on her, and would smuggle bags of tobacco out to the lighthouse, fearful that Moore would find out. Even the local doctor entreated Moore to "put her out of her misery" and let her have her tobacco. He refused, and when she died, he raised a distress flag. A minister came out and they laid her to rest on the island. Moore was blamed for her death by not allowing her off the island. He in turn blamed the townspeople for bringing her her beloved tobacco. Several citizens noted that Mrs. Moore often sported black eyes and other bruises. Some thought privately that he outright murdered her, and the circumstances surrounding her death covered up. Later, people got to talking about the bruised, battered body of the lighthouse keeper’s wife and the sheriff decided an investigation was in order. By that time, though, Billy Moore had fled, never to be heard of again. Legend has it that some later keepers were frightened by "the ghost of a hunched-over old woman, rapping at the door during the night." The next keeper of Bird Island Light didn’t stay long. He quit, declaring he and his family were unable to contend with the ghost of an old woman who kept knocking on the door in the middle of the night. Subsequent keepers had similar experiences and one even claimed his children were repeatedly frightened by the spirit of a "stoop-shouldered old lady" with one arm extended as though reaching out for something. Although the old keeper’s house was demolished long ago, people still encounter Mrs. Moore’s ghost in the vicinity of Bird Island. When the harbor was frozen over in 1982, Adam Larkin and another Marion fisherman saw what Larkin described as a "disfigured and tattered looking old woman crossing the ice from Bird Island, an old corn cob pipe clenched in her jaw." According to Larkin, they knew she wasn’t real because "she seemed to float over the ice." The hurricane of September 21, 1938, caused widespread destruction all along the south coast of New England, and Marion was hit hard. High tide in the evening of the hurricane was 14 feet above normal. The great storm swept away every building on Bird Island except the lighthouse tower. Some local residents said they saw the station's enormous fog bell being swept off the island in the storm; others said it had been removed before the storm. The lighthouse was recently rescued and renovated by the Bird Island Light Preservation Society. Photos of Bird Island Lighthouse: ![]() ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Yaquina Bay Lighthouse - Oregon Do not confuse this lighthouse with Yaquina Head Lighthouse in our top ten list. Yes, there are two and both are haunted. Yaquina Head is located on a narrow point of land jutting due west into the Pacific Ocean north of Newport, at Yaquina Head Outstanding Natural Area. Yaquina Bay sits atop a wooded bluff at the mouth of the Yaquina River, overlooking the Newport bayfront and a broad expanse of the Pacific Ocean. The Yaquina Bay Lighthouse was built in 1871, soon after the City of Newport was established as a local fishing and fur trade outpost on the north shore of Yaquina Bay. During it's brief period in service, whale oil, not electricity, was used to fuel the lighthouse lamps, and thus a full-time job for the lighthouse keeper to simply keep the lamp lit from sundown to sunrise. The Yaquina Bay lighthouse had a visibility of 12 miles from shore. The Yaquina Bay structure is the only lighthouse in the state in which the living quarters are housed in the same building as the light. Only a few of this type were built on the entire Pacific Coast. In 1873, the Yaquina Head Lighthouse was built just three miles north of the Yaquina Bay station. The Yaquina Head's more powerful lamp could be seen 22 miles away, nearly twice the distance as the Yaquina Bay light. The power of the new lighthouse in such close proximity to the "old" Yaquina Bay light proved to be problematic for ships navigating the Yaquina bar to reach the growing Newport harbor. The confusion between the two lighthouses resulted in a decision to decommission the Yaquina Bay Lighthouse 1874, just three years after it was constructed. After lighthouse keeper Charles Pierce, his wife and six children moved away, the building stood empty for 14 years. In 1888, the U.S. Army Corps of Engineers began to use the lighthouse as a living quarters while it built the North and South Jetties at the mouth of Yaquina Bay. The US Coast Guard later used the lighthouse as lookout and living quarters from 1906 to 1915, before moving to their more central (white buildings an left) quarters just above the busy Newport bayfront. During this period, the Coast Guard also built the eight-story steel observation tower that continues to stand next to the original lighthouse. In 1931, the Oregon Highway Department began construction of the spectacular Yaquina Bay Bridge (an early design sketch is shown to the left), which, upon completion in 1933, brought Highway 101 to the bluff beside the 50-year old Yaquina Bay Lighthouse. Though the Yaquina Bay lighthouse was deteriorating rapidly at this point in it's history, tourists traveling the new coast highway rediscovered the lighthouse grounds, with its sweeping views of the ocean, Newport harbor and Yaquina Bay Bridge. The bridge helped set the stage for a renewed interest in the lighthouse for its historic value. In 1934, the Oregon State Highway Division bought the property around the lighthouse for a state park. The park site included the lighthouse, coast guard observation tower, and acres of forested bluff and ocean dunes and beaches. By 1946, the lighthouse was seen as a blight on the park by the Highway Department, and was scheduled to be razed by the Highway Commission. To save it from demolition, some local residents formed the Lincoln County Historical Society, and with the help of the Oregon Historical Society, they were successful in saving the structure. The structure was dedicated as a significant historical landmark in 1956, and modest repairs to the roof and siding slowed the deterioration of the lighthouse. Despite its poor condition, the lighthouse was used as a museum for 18 years, from 1956 to 1974. During this period, the windows were boarded up to protect the interior of the structure, and local residents began to plan for a full renovation that would reverse the effects of nearly 100 years of neglect. The building was closed again in 1974, and full restoration began to return the structure to its original condition. You may wonder who could possibly haunt a lighthouse that was not even in operation long and was not a location that witnessed abundant tragedies like so many other lighthouses. Well let me tell you about Muriel Travenard. Muriel was born at the end of the 18th century to a sea captain and his wife. Her mother died when she was young, and for a time she sailed with her father. However, as she grew into a teen, on one trip, he decided to leave his daughter behind with some friends in Newport. Weeks lengthened into months, and the captain didn't return. Muriel was unhappy but had made friends with other teens, which helped to assuage her grief. One day, her group decided to explore the abandoned lighthouse. It was a mess, dilapidated, and not as much fun as they'd hoped, but they did find a strange iron plate in the floor on the second level. It was a door to a compartment that had a deep hole cut into it. They looked inside, but left the door open, and went off to explore the rest of the area. In the late afternoon, as they were preparing to leave, Muriel remembered she'd left her scarf inside and went back in to get it. Her friends waited, but she didn't return. Calling her out didn't work, so several went back in to look for her. After searching without success, one of the kids noticed a pool of blood on the floor, with a trail of drops leading up to the iron plate, which was now closed. The teens tried and tried to open the door again, but couldn't. After coming back with help, a complete search of the lighthouse and grounds was made, but still no one could pry open the plate. Her body was never found, and a dark stain marks the floor where her blood was found. Some people have claimed to have seen her ghost peering out of the lantern room or walking down the path behind the lighthouse, but no one knows just what happened that fateful day. Pretty creepy huh? However, no one really knows if this legend is truly factual. It has been noted that it may have originated from a short story written many years ago. The big question most have about it though is which came first, the story or the legend it was based on? But there is more then one ghost that haunts this lighthouse. In 1874, the crew of the whaling ship, Monkton, took over the ship and for reasons unknown, cast Captain Evan MacClure adrift in a small boat off the coastline. The captain was never seen again and the incident was reported a homicide. The dead captain began appearing in homes and taverns along the coastline. Many people since that time have told the tale of seeing the red-haired captain with the face of a skeleton. One homeowner was told by the ghost that he was only "looking for a place to stay and someone to join him in death." Captain MacClure found that place to stay in the Yaquina Bay Lighthouse, after it was abandoned in 1874. Actually, it is claimed that not long after this ghost took up residence, was when the young girl mentioned previously disappeared at the lighthouse and it is insinuated that the ghost of Captain MacClure was somehow involved in that event. Maybe he just needed company in his other world condition. The ghosts of Captain MacClure and a young lady in a flowing dress have been encountered by many people over the last 120 years. Today, the historic lighthouse is administered jointly by Oregon State Parks and the Yaquina Lights organization. The lighthouse averages 350 visitors per day, and is one of the most popular stops along the popular Pacific Coast Highway. The grounds are also heavily visited, providing a welcome respite to coast tourists. The wood structure is the oldest in the picturesque City of Newport, and also the only wood lighthouse in Oregon. The lighthouse is now listed on the National Historic Register. Open as a museum daily, May-September and on weekends all year-round. While there is no day use fee, donations are gladly accepted. Photos of Yaquina Bay Lighthouse: ![]() ![]() ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Fairport Harbor Light - Ohio The light that shone for a hundred years, a sentiment attached to the lighthouse by many, was built at the mouth of the Grand River. Lake Erie is the shallowest of the Great Lakes, where storms quickly produce mountainous waves. Early in the port’s history, townspeople knew a lighthouse was needed, but it was not until the township reached a population of 300 that this need turned into a reality. In 1825, the Painesville Telegraph printed a notice requesting bids to build a lighthouse and keeper’s dwelling. The proposal for the construction of the lighthouse, signed by A. Walworth, Collector of Customs for the District of Cuyahoga, left little to the potential builder’s imagination. Walworth specified the materials to be used, the depth of the foundation, the height, the diameter of the soapstone deck, and even the size, number, and shape of the windows. His specifications for the keeper’s house were every bit as exact. Among other directives, it would be a two-story structure measuring 34 x 20 feet, with three windows in each room, a 12 x 14 foot attached kitchen, and a cellar under “the whole of the house.” Two men, Jonathan Goldsmith and Hiram Wood, contracted to build the dwelling and lighthouse for a payment of $2900. Things went smoothly in the construction until it was realized by all concerned that there was a misunderstanding about the cellar. Goldsmith had not included the construction of the cellar in his original bid calculations. Eventually the matter was resolved with the unhappy Walworth contracting with Goldsmith an additional $174.30 for the construction of such. In the fall of 1825, the lighthouse and dwelling were complete and the beacon, fueled by whale oil, was lit for the first time. Note that in 1841, contracter Goldsmith applied to be keeper of the lighthouse he had built, but not surpisingly the appointment was given to another. Fairport Lighthouse being one of only eight lighthouses on the Great Lakes, attracted a growing number of vessels to its port, resulting in Fairport soon taking on the reputation of being a “sailor’s town,” a reputation that riveled that of the port of Cleveland. However, Fairport not only gained a reputation for it's commerce, it became the final stop on the famous "Underground Railroad". This was not an occurance that came about unknowningly by the undertaking of a hidden few, it was in fact the entire township that established this passageway to freedom. The sentiment among the citizens of Fairport was firmly anti-slavery, and the Fugitive Slave Law proved particularly burdensome. In 1850, Samuel Butler, a Fairport tavern owner and one of the lighthouses most prominent keepers, being an active abolitionist of slavery formed a citizens’ group that sought to repeal the law, his Eagle Tavern becoming a safehaven for escaping slaves and the headquarters for all willing to help. The lighthouse itself, in Butlers keeping, became a northern terminal of the Underground Railroad. Anti-slavery captains, seamen, townsfolk, and lighthouse keepers worked together to assist the runaway slaves, smuggling them aboard ships bound for Canada. The fugitive slaves were hidden away in the lighthouse, as Kentucky slave masters walks the streets below hunting their missing property, no help forthcoming from those who inhabited Fairport. Within years of the lighthouse construction, the tower and house began to fall into disrepair and after ten years the foundation had settled so much it required complete replacement. Within thirty years, the lighthouse had to be encircled with wire hoops to keep it from toppling over. The inhabitants of Fairport knew they needed to do something to save the lighthouse, as it had not only added greatly to the town’s prosperity, but its beacon also illuminated one of the major gateways to the West. In 1847 alone, 2,987 vessels carrying countless passengers and cargo valued at almost one million dollars passed through its harbor, making it a landmark for thousands beyond the harbors border. On March 3, 1869, Congress approved a $30,000 proposal to replace the Fairport lighthouse with a new tower and keeper’s dwelling, with construction slated to begin in the spring of 1870. A temporary tower was built to light the way while the original tower was demolished and the new one built on the same exact spot. To avoid a repeat of the original towers flaws, the new builders hired engineers to design the best possible foundation. The new tower began its erection on a foundation of piles bored more then 11 feet deep supporting a twelve inch thick concrete slab. On top of the concrete slab was another twelve inch grill of timber, and on top of that was a limestone foundation that extended to ground level. As added insurance, the walls at the base of the lighthouse were built nearly six feet thick. By September, the extensive foundation and half of the tower were finished when work was ceased by a bureaucratic glitch. The Act of July 12, 1870, ordered the return of any unspent funds to the Treasury. $21,001.54 of the original $30,000 appropriation had been spent, when the remaining funds were returned to the Treasury. Not until the Act of March 3, 1871, was an additional $10,000 appropriated allowing work on the lighthouse to resume. By the summer of 1871, the conical, gray Berea sandstone tower and attached brick keeper’s dwelling were completed. On August 11, 1871, a third-order Fresnel lens shone a fixed white light for the first time. The light stood 102 feet above the lake level, the same as the original tower, and was visible for eighteen miles. Other improvements were made over the next few decades, including the addition of running water to the red brick keeper’s dwelling and a handrail on the tower, but changes to Fairport Harbor were ushering in a new era for the harbor. Continuous increase in industry kept expanding the use of the harbor. Increase brought with it it new additions such as piers, breakwaters, a foghorn installed, and the Grand River channel was widened and deepened to accommodate the larger freighters. To accomodate the ever changing harbor, Congress appropriated $42,000 in 1917 for a new combination light and fog station to be constructed on the west breakwater pierhead. However, due to World War I, construction was delayed several years and the new light was not operational until June 9, 1925, when it replaced the light that had been shining on the hill overlooking the harbor for a hundred years. Hence the sentiment of, “The light that shone for a hundred years,” became the Fairport lighthouse legacy as its light sadly went out forever, even though the newer version of the Fairport Lighthouse didn’t accomplish this one hundred year history on its own, its original predecessor standing on the very same site accounted for the first forty-six years of that service. Part of the funds appropriated for the new Fairport Harbor Breakwater Lighthouse were to pay for the demolition of the old lighthouse, but the citizens of Fairport rallied to save their old lighthouse. The Secretary of Commerce received letters of protestation from groups as diverse as the Daughters of the American Revolution, the Kasvi Temperance Society, the Council of Willoughby, Ohio, and the Painesville Kiwanis club. The barrage of appeals was successful, and the Secretary of Commerce consented to leave the, now obsolete, lighthouse standing. The next twenty years brought with it deterioration to the defunct lighthouse. Near the end of World War II, town officials met to discuss improvements needed to Fairport, and demolition of the dilapidated lighthouse was on the meeting agenda. The response of the towns people to this suggestion was immediate and strongly stated. The old tower, although an eyesore, was a vital part of the town’s history and it was a symbol of the towns role in the expansion of commerce and freedom. The town rallied together in a unity once again, this time to free the lighthouse from its planned and unrecoverable demise. Yet again, another Fairport citizens group was formed, this time under the title of the "Fairport Harbor Historical Society', whose mission was and is to preserve and celebrate the town’s nautical heritage. The Society achieved the governments approval to turn the lighthouse and keeper’s dwelling into a Marine Museum. Donations rolled in for the endeavor, coming via retired sailors and landlubbers and consisting of old logbooks, sextants, photographs, pieces of historical vessels, compasses, and steering wheels. The museum, the country’s first lighthouse marine museum, opened in 1945. Visitors can now walk through the same space where runaway slaves once hid, gaze on historic photographs of the men who cared for the beacon, and read the log books of ships that were guided to safety by Fairport’s light, and they may even experience the added bonus of having an encounter with a ghost, a friendly cute ghost it is said. Have you ever heard of a cute and adorable little ghost? Well, that is exactly how many refer to the apparation that haunts the Fairport Harbor Light. So who or what haunts the lighthouse at Fairport? The fact that the lighthouse itself was the secret keeper of hundreds traversing through the underground railroad to freedrom, may be enough to have left behind a trail of haunting energy. However, Fairports second keeper of the light, first keeper of the newly constructed lighthouse, became a steadfast presence of the lighthouse, making it his life, love, and his home. Captain Babcock was lightkeeper from 1871-1881; then again in 1900-1919. His son also was an assistant keeper from 1901-1919; then keeper from 1919-1925. Captain Joseph Babcock raised a family on the grounds, with two of his children born in the home. However, Babcock lived through not only good times at the lighthouse, but the bad as well with one of his two sons succumbing to smallpox at the young age of five. Following the tragic loss of their son "Robbie", other burdens befell the family. Mrs. Babcock fell ill next and remained bedfast within the confines of the keepers house. In todays sentiments, she would be labeled as the "Crazy Cat Lady", of Fairport Lighthouse, as it is told that she acquired the company of many cats to pass her incapacitated time with. It is said that she had one particular gray kitten that she entertained herself with, one whom delighted in chasing a ball tossed down the hallway by Mrs. Babcock, and then bringing it back to her. In 1989, the resident curator, Pamela Brent, was in the kitchen when she saw out of the corner of her eye something, small and dark, flitting by. A few seconds later she saw it again. Looking around the corner of the door, she saw a small gray cat, almost like a puff of smoke as she stated, scampering around the floor. It had no feet, and moved about the floor almost on invisible wheels. It had iridescent gold marble like eyes and feathery gray fur. It seemed to chase something, then scooted around the corner and disappeared. Pamela Brent saw the puff many times over the winter, and even played with it by tossing an old sock down the hallway, which the cat would chase. The living room where the curator encountered the ghostly kitten used to be the bedroom where Mrs. Babcock stayed by the way. All these years later, many report the ghost of a cat running about upstairs, repeating the same description of it being like a gray "puff of smoke." Maybe this lighthouse cat spector is the one and same mummified cat that was found by a worker during reconstruction in the winter of 2001. Workers installing air conditioning vents discovered the mummified cat in a crawlspace. It was determined that the poor creature had gotten trapped in the crawlspace and was unable to get out, and to this day its mummified remains are displayed in a glass cabinet at the Fairport Harbor Museum. I know, you thought it was the "cute" ghost of the five year old "Robbie" that haunts the lighthouse didnt you? I have discovered no references to his spirit abiding on the location, thank goodness as we all hope that children find peace in the afterlife. It is the ghost of the cat that carries the sentiment of being cute, with reporters stating that the playful cat's presence can be felt all over the property. Reportings on humanly spectors haunting the lighthouse seem to center mostly around the spirit of Babcock himself, that he is still present to this day as a ghostly fixture in the home and in the job he was so devoted to, through the good and the bad. It is also said that Samuel Butler remains a ghostly presence at the lighthouse, possibly forever keeping watch for the Canadian ships that would carry his humanitarian cargo to freedom. Paranormal teams that have investigated the lighthouse believe they have obtained evps from both Babcock and Butler in different locations of the house and tower. Even so, the haunted fame of Fairport lends itself to the attention aroused by the playful little ghost kitty of Mrs. Babcock, and may she play on forever. Fairport Lighthouse is on the corner of High Street and 2nd Street. The lighthouse is open from 1 p.m. to 6 p.m. Wednesdays, Saturdays, Sundays, and holidays, from Memorial Day weekend through the second weekend in September. The museum can be reached at (440) 354-4825. Photos of Fairport Lighthouse: Original lighthouse, current lighthouse and ghost cat remains on display at lighthouse ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Minot's Ledge Light - Massachusetts Located about a mile offshore, between the South Shore towns of Cohasset and Scituate, Minot's ledge is part of the dangerous Cohasset Rocks. The number of shipwrecks through the years near the rocks is great, and there have been many lives lost. Quoting Captain William H. Swift, "Minot's Rocks...lie off the southeastern chop of Boston Bay. These rocks or ledges... have been the terror of mariners for a long period of years; they have been, probably, the cause of a greater number of wrecks than any other ledges or reefs upon the coast." In August 1838, a committee consisting of three persons was set in place by the Boston Marine Society, their appointed task to research and make report of the need and the practibility of constructing a lighthouse on the ledge. The committee completed and reported their findings in November 1838, it read; "The practibility of building a Light house on it that will withstand the force of the sea does not admit of a doubt-the importance of having a light house on a rock so dangerous to the navigation of Boston, on which so many lives, & so much property has been lost is too well known to need comment." The Boston Marine Society then began, between 1839 and 1841, a repetitive vigil of petitioning Congress for the much needed lighthouse, those petitions yielding unsuccessful results. Engineer I W P. Lewis then made reference to the problem in his 1843 report to Congress. Lewis's report listed in access of 40 vessels that had been lost on the ledge between 1832 to 1841. He asserted, "A light house on this reef is more required than on any part of the seaboard of New England." In March 1847, Congress finally appropriated $20,000 for a lighthouse on the ledge; an additional $19,500 would eventually be needed for the completion of the project, including $4,500 for the lighting apparatus. The site selected was the rock known as the Outer Minot. The Quonahassits believed the evil demon Hobomock lived beneath this ledge. When he grew irritable, Hobomock roared to the surface and churned up a nasty storm. To appease him, the Quonahassits paddled out to the ledge at low tide and left offerings, which Hobomock greedily devoured when the tide rose. Those involved felt that a granite tower similar to England's famed Eddystone Light was in order for the ledge site, but the man chosen to design the lighthouse, Captain William H. Swift of the Topographical Department, felt it was not possible to construct a tower of the like on the ledge due to it being mostly submerged under the water. Swift instead designed an iron pile lighthouse. It was a seventy foot tall, spidery structure with legs piles drilled into the rock. Swifts theory on this type of structure is the waves could pass harmlessly through the structure. The lighthouse administrators, being cost conscious, could also appreciate the fact that a tower of this type was much cheaper to construct then one made of stone. A schooner was tied up at the ledge to house workers. They could work only at low tide, and with the ledge dry a mere 3 or 4 hours a day, the foundation proceeded slowly. Eight holes were drilled in a circular pattern over the 25-foot ledge, with a ninth hole in the center. Each hole was 12-inches in diameter and 5-feet deep. The fourteen foot diameter 'octagonal' keepers quarters and the wrought iron lantern were built atop the nine piles which were cemented into the five foot deep holes drilled into the ledge and then braced horizontally by three sets of iron rods. The drilling machinery washed off the ledge several times before all nine legs of the tower were secured in their foundations with cement. The lighthouse beam illuminated the waters for the first time on January 1, 1850. It was the first lighthouse in the United States to be completely surrounded and exposed to the ocean's full fury. The first keeper was Isaac Dunham, and he felt the structure was unsafe. His March 1850 penned entry in the lighthouse log book reads, "The wind E. blowing very hard with an ugly sea which makes the light reel like a Drunken Man -- I hope God will in mercy still the raging sea -- or we must perish... God only knows what the end will be." His son, Isaac A. Dunham, who acted as assistant keeper; had a pet cat that one day, as he worked in the lantern room, he invited the kitten up the service ladder and allowed her to go out on the lantern gallery which was ironically also called the "catwalk." The kitten, skittish since her arrival on the strange tower, rushed to the edge of the gallery and leaped into the air. Her tiny body was shattered on the rocks below, then swallowed by the waves. Her death only added to Dunham's fears about the lighthouse. After nine of duty at the lighthouse Isaac Dunham quit, fearful for his own life. The second keeper, John Bennett, also penned the lighthouse as unsafe. In his October 1850 entry, he logged, "Much remains to be done to secure it [the lighthouse] from accident." A visitor to the lighthouse stated that it swayed two feet in each direction during a storm. Bennet noted that during gales dishes danced off the table in the kitchen, and the entire structure rocked and reeled "like a drunken man." He, at one point, threw a bottle into the waves with a message reading, "Our situation is perilous. If anything happens before day dawns on us again, we have no hope of escape. But I shall, if it be God's will, die in the performance of my duty." Captain Swift felt the need to respond to his critics concerning the lighthouse he had designed. On January 18, 1851, the Boston Daily Advertiser printed a letter penned by Swift, and it read, "Time, the great expounder of the truth or the fallacy of the question, will decide for or against the Minot; but inasmuch as the light has outlived nearly three winters, there is some reason to hope that it may survive one or two more." However, less then three months following Swifts defense of his lighthouse, a horrific storm struck the New England coast that was stated to have turned Boston into an island, flooding much of the area. The official report read as follows, "The light on the Minot was last seen from Cohasset on Wednesday night at 10 o'clock. At 1 o'clock Thursday morning the light-house bell was heard on shore, one and one-half miles distant... and it was at this hour, it is generally believed, that the light-house was destroyed; at daylight nothing of it was visible from shore." Around midnight, the men had began hammering on the fogbell in distress, but no one could help them. Shortly after 1:00 a.m. the iron legs of the lighthouse snapped like matchsticks. The huge tower sank below the waves, taking its keepers, John Wilson and Joseph Antoine, to their deaths. One drowned and his body washed ashore; the other made it to shore, but died of exposure. Antoine's body washed ashore at Nantasket Beach, while Wilson's was found on Gull Island. Head keeper Bennett was only spared because he happened to be on shore when the storm struck, and could not get back to help his assistants. He first learned the tower had plummeted when he recognized personal items floating to shore. All that remained of the iron lighthouse were a few bent pilings found on the rock. The next day a Gloucester fisherman found a bottle with a note inside, the note read, "The lighthouse won't stand over to night. She shakes 2 feet each way now." New England Magazine published an article that read, "The keeper's house and lantern were fairly above the reach of the average storm seas; but this was not the case with a lower platform which the over confident keeper had built upon the second series of rods and tie braces, nor with that fatal 5 1/2 inch hawser which he led from the lantern deck out to an anchorage fifty fathoms inshore... there are engineers who still maintain that a similar structure upon a larger scale, if built upon these rocks, would defy the storms of years." It was also believed by others that the platform the keeper had built created another surface for the waves to lift against, along with three hundred feet of cable that extended from the deck and was covered with ice, also contributed to the lighthouse demise. From 1851 to 1860, the steam towboat R.B. Forbes, and later the lightship Brandywine Shoal, beamed their lights as a replacement of the tower at Minot's Ledge. In 1855, construction of a new stone tower began. This time Minot's Light was designed by General Joseph G. Totten of the Lighthouse Board, and it has been called the greatest achievement in American lighthouse engineering. Capt. Barton S. Alexander supervised the project, making some modifications in the design. Only days of calm and low tide allowed for the construction of the new lighthouse, so the cutting and assembling of the granite blocks actually took place at Cohasset's Government Island with a team of oxen moving the blocks to a vessel that would then bring them to the ledge. In January of 1857, when the iron framework that had been erected was destroyed during a storm, Captain Alexander discouragingly stated, "If wrought iron won't stand it, I have my fears about a stone tower." However it was determined that during the storm a ship had hit the ledge and destroyed the ironwork, not the waves of the storm. It was a setback for the new lighthouse with the work having to begin again due to the rocks themselves being damaged by the colliding ship. The first granite block was laid on the tower on July 9, 1857. Workers on the tower were many times swept off the rocks by the waves, and a Cohasset diver, Captain Michael Neptune Brennock, was employed as a lifeguard to rescue them. Only those who were good swimmers were allowed to work on the tower and the men learned to hold on tightly to a steel bolt or rope when a wave hit. The last granite stone was laid in place on Minot's Ledge on June 29, 1860, minus one day of a five year vigil following the landing of Alexander and his workmen at the ledge. The total cost to build the new lighthouse ending at approximately $330,000 has made it one of the most expensive lighthouses to erect in the United States history. The lantern and second-order Fresnel lens finally in place, the lighthouse was illuminated on November 15, 1860. When keeper Joshua Wilder entered tower room to light second tower for first time on November 15, 1860, he was greeted by tens of bonfires on South Shore celebrating. When he lit the beam, Roman candles and skyrockets shot in the air. The new and second lighthouse, consisting of 1,079 blocks (3,514 tons) of Quincy granite reinforced with iron shaftshas comprised of a storeroom, living quarters and work space, has persevered through countless storms and hurricanes, proving itself much more resilient then the first. Despite the new lighthouses more secure feeling of safety, the winter dreariness played heavily on the minds of the keepers, some attempting to take their own lives and some removed after having gone literally insane. It was a very difficult assignment to be keeper of the Minots Light, with having to live most of the time inside the tower with only brief periods of relief onshore at Government Island. It was not a place that a sane person would want to live, and many that tried indeed went insane. It is claimed that one keeper resigned because Minot's had nothing but round walls and he missed having corners. Obviously, keepers were subject to suffering the horrendous sound of the waves crashing against the tower during storms. It is known for waves to actually sweep over the top of the lighthouse at times, such as the 176 foot wave that hit the tower on Christmas in 1909, as reported by keeper Milton Reamy. Reamy was the longest suffering keeper at the ledge, serving from 1887 to 1915. Octavius Reamy, his son, took his place in 1915 and tended the light until 1924. A rotating second order Fresnel lens with a distinctive 1, 4, 3 flash characteristic was installed in 1894, and the lighthouse was christened with a new nickname of the "I love you light", some feeling the 1, 4, 3 flash stood for "I love you". In 1939, the Coast Guard took charge of keeping the lighthouse, but even they got their fill of the isolation of extended stretches of being alone in the tower, and weathering the storms with waves crashing so high up as to clear the top of the tower. In 1947 the lighthouse became automated and all human keepers removed. Note I meant all living human keepers exited, but what has remained behind to haunt the Minots Ledge Lighthouse? Strange occurances have been happening at Minots Ledge ever since the April 1851 storm that took the lives of the assistant keepers, Joe Wilson and Joe Antoine. Since that time, fishermen have reported hearing cries in the night coming from the island, and some claim to have witnessed a spector of a man screaming in the Portugese language, "Stay away, stay away" while hanging from a ladder on the side of the tower. Antoine was Portugese and the fisherman believe he is the ghostly spector they have seen hanging from the tower. Subsequent keepers have witnessed shadow figures in the lantern room, have experienced a tap on the shoulder, as well as hearing whispering voices during the night. A companion cat to one of the keepers acted bizarrely when it would come near the lantern room, running around in circles and screeching. But that is not all, the strangest occurance being the cleaning of the tower windows that would continously be filthied by the Seagulls flying overhead. It would take an entire day to clean the windows on the tower, and it became a common thing for the assistant to be thwarted when ordered by the head keeper to do the window cleaning. Apparently a 'ghostly' assistant would also take the head keepers order to heart and before the live assistant could gather the cleaning supplies, all the windows would already be sparkling clean. When alive and on duty at the light house, the two assistant Joes had worked out a signaling of five taps on the stovepipe in the old tower, meaning the end of ones shift and time to change places. The two keepers of the brand new granite lighthouse began hearing this five tap signaling echoing up through the stairs, as well the lens and lantern were mysteriously polished on several occasions. This was taken in stride by some of the keepers, them even thanking the two Joes, but one keeper must have found the isolation of the lighthouse and the hauntings terrifying, as he eventually was driven to suicide by cutting his throat and bleeding to death, this after ice sealed shut the tower door and temporarily trapped him inside. Others just went insane and were led out in a strait jacket. However, the two Joes were not the only ones to die while on duty at the lighthouse. Another Keeper was killed when he fell from the top of the tower in the station lifeboat. Standing alone and lonely since its automation, who can really say how many spirits walk the tower of Minots Ledge Lighthouse. With a countless number of shipwrecks even before the erection of the first light, lives being lost in the raging waves surrounding the ledge, three assistants meeting their demise while on duty in both the first and second lighthouse, and even the demise of a cat due to the fearsomeness of the lighthouse, all three of the assistants could still be tending the light and socializing with other ghostly visitors rising out of the depths of the waters surrounding the tower. Who wants to go spend the night in the tower to find out? You can see Minot's Ledge Light from Government Island and other points on shore, but it is best viewed by boat. Photos of Minot Ledge: Drawing of original light and photos that capture water covering the light ![]() ![]() ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Stratford Shoals Light - Connecticut Stratford Shoal is a dangerous reef in Long Island Sound, three quarters of a mile long situated about midway between Long Island, NY, and the Connecticut shore. In the seventeenth century there were two islands reported in the vicinity, but a hundred or so years later they no longer were viewable, erosion having worn them below sea level. Covered by less than two feet of water, the submerged rock island reef became a constant and dangerous threat to ship traffic. For decades, before a lighthouse existed, different means were attempted to mark the submerged rocks and aid safe navigation through the sound. In 1820, a couple of Spar buoys were placed on the north and south sides of the shoal, and in 1831, a contract was entered with a man named Hicks, to erect an iron spindle on the reef, but it is unknown whether the spindle was ever put in place. Then in January of 1838, a one hundred ton lightship, known as "Middle Ground floating light", "Stratford Shoal Light Vessel," or "Stratford Point Light Vessel", and finally officially designated as LV15, was stationed at the southeast end of Stratford Shoal. The ship showed lights from each of two masts and carried a crew of six. However, the single anchor that was holding the ship in position was sorely inadequate, and only eight days after going into service the ship drifted off position. Despite adding two larger anchors, the problem persisted and the lightship lost its anchorage several times, one of those being during the winter of 1875 when pack ice pushed LV15 aground at Orient Point. A year later the ship disappeared, having drifted 23 miles northeast until it settled near Faulkner's Island, over twenty miles away. The Lighthouse Board finally decided, in 1872, to build a lighthouse at Stratford Shoal, to replace the aging and troublesome lightship, and $150,000 was requested for the project. The light has often been classified as a New York lighthouse, this due to a dispute that was never settled, concerning the land where the lighthouse actually resided. New York ceded the land to the federal government on May 11, 1874, however official maps place the lighthouse on the Connecticut side of Long Island Sound by a good 1,000 feet. Its design being similar to Race Rock Light, which was built about the same time in Fishers Island Sound, the lighthouse was one of the last masonry lighthouses built at an offshore location before the development of cast-iron towers with tubular foundations. Tons of stones were laid, on the less then one acre piece of land surrounded by water, between 1874 and 1876. The schooner Mignonette was anchored at the construction site to house the workers and supplies. There were plenty of setbacks caused by numerous storms, one being just as the lighthouse was nearing completion, on November 8, 1877, the Mignonette was driven onto the shoal by a severe winter storm on and sank, although the crew managed to escape safely. The crew then took up residence in the lighthouse, but due to this and prior weather-related mishaps, the activation of the lighthouse was delayed. The foundation, built with huge undressed blocks of granite attached together with thick cast-iron staples encased in lead, stands nineteen feet tall. The interior of the foundation was filled with concrete, with a space left vacant for a brick lined basement and two storage cisterns. Fitted with a fourth order Fresnel lens that beamed a flashing white light 60 feet above sea level, the light officially went into service on December 15, 1877. A powerful Daboll fog trumpet was added in 1880. Also known as Middleground Light, the Stratford Shoal Lighthouse contained two stories as living quarters for a keeper and two assistants. The architecture used at Stratford Shoal Lighthouse shows a touch of Gothic influence, and the lighthouse is nearly identical to the one at Race Rock in New York. The bottom portion of the tower is square, while the upper section is octagonal. The tower rises three stories high and is attached to the south side of the building. A cast-iron ornamental frieze covers the cornice between the top of the lantern room and the eaves of the roof, featuring panels of embossed leaves, circles, and double lines. The keeper’s dwelling has a living room, kitchen, five bedrooms, a sitting room, and a supply room. An iron spiral staircase leads up the tower to the lantern room. The original Fresnel lens was replaced in 1894 and again in 1905. The first keeper at Stratford Shoal was an Irish immigrant named William McGloin, who had previously been captain of the LV15 lightship. The station was one of the most isolated and difficult for keepers, like Minots Ledge and New Havens Southwest Ledge, all three being surrounded by water and feeling cut off from the rest of the world. Also like at the isolated lights of Minots Ledge and New Haven's Southwest Ledge, the keepers at Stratford Shoals were subject to suffering from severe psychological problems. Second assistant keeper, Julius Koster, suffered such psychological distress. In May 1905, head keeper McGloin went ashore on vacation and left the First Assistant Keeper, 54 year old Morrell Hulse and Lighthouse Service rookie Koster in charge. The second night, Koster unexpectedly went into a rage, locking himself in the lantern room. He attempted to destroy the light and did manage to stop its rotation for a while. When Koster finally emerged, he then attempted to take his own life, his suicide prevented by Hulse. Koster was relieved of his duties at Stratford Shoals, having become too unstable to carry on in the position. Newspapers published articles providing details of the event, stating that suddenly and without warning, Koster charged at the other man with a razor tied to the end of a pole. Completely surprised, Hulse managed to fight him off, and Koster seemed to calm down for the time being. But similar events reoccurred over the next few days, forcing Hulse to resist falling asleep at any time. Besides fearing for his life and being on the constant lookout for attacks, he had to keep the light going. This went on for five harrowing days, culminating when Hulse found Koster in the lantern room preparing to destroy the lens with an axe. Somehow Hulse prevented the destructive act. Koster’s moods became increasingly suicidal, Koster at one point jumping off the tower into the swift water, in which Hulse once saved his life. At that point, Hulse tied Koster up and kept him for two days until help arrived. When help finally arrived Koster had a number of self-inflicted wounds on his body. He was returned to his New York City home, where he soon, within days, was successful in his suicide attempts. Later keepers at Stratford Shoal reported disturbances at the station that they blamed on Koster’s ghost, including doors slamming shut in the middle of the night, chairs being thrown against the walls, posters being ripped down and hot pans of water flung from the stove. Stratford Shoal Light went automated in 1970; coast guards being removed with no regrets we can be sure. A modern aerobeacon run by solar-powered batteries was installed. Although humans no longer man the lighthouse, the vengence of second assistant Koster, as it is believed to be, still rages on. To this day, sailors passing close by can still hear the thumps, bumps, grindings and loud noises; believing that Kosters spirit still lingers at the lighthouse suffering from the severe psychological distress that ultimately ended his life, now locked in the form of a negative spiritual energy towards the very place that sent him spiriling into such. The lighthouse remains an active aid to navigation still today. It can be seen distantly from the Bridgeport to Port Jefferson ferry, looking like a ghostly castle, but it is most easily seen by private boat if you dare to get that close. Photos of Stratford Shoals Lighthouse: ![]() ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Southeast Light - Block Island - Rhode Island Block Island, a seven thousand acre parcel of land, is approximately seven miles in length and three miles wide at its widest point. The island is located twelve miles from Long Island and an equal distance from Charlestown, Rhode Island. It is surrounded by dangerous shoals and ledges, becoming known as the "stumbling block" of the New England coast due to the numerous shipwrecks that occurred in the years leading up to a lighthouse being built. A series of spectacular disasters pointed to the danger. Passengers, shipowners and others connected to maritime activity ultimately demanded more effective aids to navigation. The first lighthouse, the North Light, was placed on the northern tip of the island in 1829. This light alone was not enough to resolve safe navigation through the shoals and ledges, the hazards of Block Island became more pronounced because of the crowded waters. In 1830 the passenger packet Warrior was cast ashore in a gale. Other wrecks followed along the seaboard and finally plans were made to build another lighthouse on the south end of the island. In 1856, Congress appropriated $9,000 for the building of a lighthouse at the southeast shore of Block Island. However, the Lighthouse Board decided instead to use the money to rebuild the existing lighthouse at the northern tip of the island, and the building of the Southeast Light was put off indefinitely. After the Palmetto was lost on the reef below the bluffs in 1858 many again urged action. In 1872, Nicholas Ball, a local merchant, circulated a petition for a lighthouse. The petition stated that vessels passing the southeast part of the island were "exposed to as much danger as at almost any other place on the entire coast of the United States." The Lighthouse Board agreed, President Grant signed the appropriation for the Southeast Light (and later visited the station), and Congress appropriated $75,000 for the new lighthouse to be built on the south end of the island. At the price of $1,350, the lighthouse site selected was a ten acre parcel of land on Mohegan Bluffs, purchased from George G. Sheffield. Mohegan Bluffs received its name from an Indian battle that took place on the southern tip of the island in 1590. A war party of fifty Mohegan Indians traveled from Long Island in their war canoes, came ashore, and launched a raid against the Block Island natives. The local Indians repelled the attack, backed the Mohegans up to the edge of the bluffs, then drove them over the cliff, forcing them to fall 160 feet to the water and rocks below. The design developed for the Southeast Lighthouse, styled like a large Victorian manor house of the time, involved the blending of Italianate and Gothic Revival styles making it an architectural showcase and very unique. The lighthouse and keepers quarters were meant to be showpieces for the U.S. Lighthouse Bureau. They were among the most elaborate built during the 1870s, and look like it they came out of a Gothic romance. The lighthouse was built during Block Island’s heyday as a resort, which may help explain its ornate design. T. H. Tynan of Staten Island was contracted to build the lighthouse, working from plans provided by the Lighthouse Board. The uniqueness of the Southeast Lights design resulted in a final cost of approximately $80,000, the huge first-order Fresnel lens, made expressly for Southeast light by Barbier and Fenestre of Paris, carried a price tag of $10,000 alone. The lighthouse was designated a primary seacoast aid to navigation, which meant it was equipped with the most powerful lighting apparatus available. The 67 foot tall tower has a 25 foot diameter base and tapers to 15 feet at the lantern deck. The keeper's house, attached to the tower, was a two and half story duplex with twin one and one half story kitchen wings to the rear. The kitchen wings to the northwest rear are connected to the main block by a single-story shingled framed passageway. Each wing is lit by a pair of 4-over-6 pane windows and a single 2-over-2 pane window in its outer wall and a single 6-over-6 pane window in its inner wall. The kitchen garrets are lit at the gable end by 2-over-2 pane windows that flank either side of the chimney block. There are two single-story porches, located on each side of the connecting wing. The porch posts on the southwesterly side have decorative beveled, bracketed posts, while the complementary porch on the other side exhibits 20th-century changes at this time. The construction was of brick with a granite foundation and trim. The octagonal tower is capped by a 16-sided cast-iron lantern. The fixed white light, illuminated by lard oil, officially went into operation on February 1, 1875. A new compressed air fog signal with kerosene engines was installed in 1906. Two years later the fog signal house was destroyed by fire. A new building and fog signal equipment were soon installed. In 1929, the Southeast Light was changed over to a flashing green light to differentiate it from other lights in the vicinity. A new first-order lens was installed with flash panels; this lens being made up of pieces "cannibalized" from earlier lenses, and consisting of just eight lens panels that revolved on a bed of mercury that allowed vibration free rotation of the lens. The hurricane of September 21, 1938, New England's worst ever, did tremendous damage to the lighthouse and grounds. The radio beacon was knocked over, the oil house was demolished, windows were blown out, and all power was lost. The keepers had to turn the lens by hand for several days. During a heavy fog that covered the waters around Block Island on February 10, 1939, Keeper Earl Carr thought he heard a ship’s fog whistle. Going outside, he couldn’t see anything, but the whistle was loud enough to indicate a ship very close to shore. Aboard the 416-foot Texaco oil tanker Lightburne, the crew heard the lighthouse’s fog signal, but mistakenly thought they were still three or four miles offshore. Instead, the ship ran aground on the rocks just below the lighthouse and began quickly taking on water. Some of the 72,000 barrels of gasoline and kerosene that the ship was carrying began spilling into the water. When an emergency flare was knocked overboard, the gasoline in the water caught on fire, no more than fifty yards from the ship. Fortunately, the wind was blowing in a favorable direction, and loss of life was avoided. The ship was later sunk by the Coast Guard and remains a favorite scuba diving site. For safety and environmental reasons, the Coast Guard deactivated the Southeast Light in 1990, replacing it with a light on a steel skeleton tower. Jean Napier, a descendant of the first keeper, said, "It's going to be a very sad day. I just hate to see it happen." Petty Officer Steve Koskinen was the last Coast Guard keeper. One local resident, Marceline Mazzur, reflected, "It was a thing of beauty that we never thought would go away." Who haunts the house and tower of Southeast Light? Unlike most lighthouses, historial research for Southeast Light has yielded 'nil to none' documentation concerning the light keeper history. Besides the mention of Carr in 1939, I have located a list of names of keepers and assistants who manned the light, but no documentation on any of the keepers concerning their lives or trials in the lighthouse. Typically you have some kind of historial documentation to back up or give some explanation of who exactly haunts a location and why, but all I have managed to gather is the strange occurances reported and a disturbing story about a keeper that cannot be backed up in any way by historical recordings. The story goes as such, In the early 1900's, a keeper, angry with his wife for unknown reasons, pushed her down the stairs to her death. Although he claimed it was a suicide, he was convicted of murder and relieved of his duties. Her spirit, however, stayed behind and has continued to harass men since that time. It is reported that she will leave women and children alone, in fact children have seen and heard her, most notably in the kitchen banging pots and pans. But men, whether keeper or visitor to the light, are fair game. She is a very physical poltergeist, often lifting the beds with men in them and shaking them violently. She has locked men into rooms or closets. Once she even chased a keeper out of bed and into the cold night dressed only in his underwear, locking the door behind him. The poor embarrassed keeper had to call the Coast Guard to reopen the lighthouse so he could get back in. It obviously was not Carr connected to this legend, as I did find an obituary notice for his wife Marie O'Neil Carr, with the notation that she lived at the lighthouses 'Little Gull Light' and 'SouthEast Light' for 20 years. Apparently they had a long record as keepers and she was alive and well until the ripe old age of 101. There are two many early 1900 keepers to list, but my research continues in this matter and I will update this entry as I learn more. It is not just the lighthouse that is haunted however, Block Island spins a long history of legends and folklore, retaining viligently tales of pirates or mythical shipwrecks, and spectres of witchcraft in every valley. The islanders believe Captain Kidd and his phantom crew still visit the island, arriving in their spectral ship to search for the their buried treasure. One Islander, Mrs. Rose, tells a tale of her uncle and other male islanders seeking out and digging up the treasure to find themselves faced with the spectre ship and misty phantoms of Kidd and his crew charging at them from the waves, frightening them so greatly they fled, and since then no one has dared to seek out the Captains treasures again. There are tales of Goblins residing in the black, rush bordered sides of inland pools. In the twilight hours, the phantom ghostship, Palatine, is seen in spectral flames rushing eastward over the Block Island Sound, it being claimed that it has been witnessed by over 50 people from different parts of the island, all those seeing it being descendents of the wreckers who had hung out false beacons to lure the ship in, and then pilliaged and set it on fire. Mrs. Rose being included as one that has also witnessed this phantom ship, and is herself a descendent. Another ghostly tale involves the mortar for the grinding of corn, a block of lignun vitae that is fourteen inches high by ten inches in diameter and holds four quarts of corn, that was taken from the Palatine ship. It resided for many years in the home of the Dickens at Sandy Point. It is claimed to get up and dance about the kitchen when in the mood, the family even inviting neighbors to witness its antics. It was used to stop up a hole in a stone wall at the door of the Dickens house for half a century before it become housed at the Brown University Museum in Providence, and it earned the name of "The Dancing Stone", although it has not danced since relocated. It is said that fiery apparitions haunt the residents of Block Island itself. The phantom known as Burning Eyes has burning embers for eyes and is usually discovered on the back porches of houses late at night. During the hard winters here, the bodies of deceased people used to be stored at the back of houses, so they could be buried when the ground thawed. Burning Eyes is believed to be one of those spirits, who lingered longer than the spring thaw. And the Phantom Child, which involves the tale of a young woman, returning from a ball in Sandy Point one fall evening over 100 years, gave birth to a child on the way. She strangled the child and hid its body in a empty hay crib beside the roadway. Its fornlorn cry is claimed to still be heard on the east winds that cross the headlan of Clay Head. It is said that you can hear it clearly when a storm is rising. Despite the many haunted legends of Block Island, it may be difficult to actually have a native of the Island interact with you about the ghostly goings on. I have been told that the inhabitants of the Island are not fond of tourists and in fact hold them in suspicion, remaining standoffish and not likely to talk to an outsider about anything concerning their beautiful and quaint location. When Block Island Light was built in 1874, three hundred feet of land lay between it and the edge of Mohegan Bluffs connecting to the ocean. Over the next hundred years the bluff eroded to within seventy-five feet of the light. If something wasn't done soon, the light would light fall into the ocean. By the early '90s, 115 years of erosion had put the lighthouse on the endangered list. The National Trust for Historic Preservation listed it as one of America's 11 most endangered structures of historic significance, it then being only 55 feet from the brink of destruction by a big gulping drink of the ocean. A dedicated group of volunteers, the Block Island Southeast Lighthouse Foundation, managed to raise about $2 million to pay for the lighthouse to be moved. It took the group nearly ten years to raise the $2,000,000 to move the light. Half the money came from a federal grant, and the rest came from selling some of the land to state and private sources. In August 1993, International Chimney Company of Buffalo, New York, and Expert House Movers, Inc. of Virginia, were contracted to move the historic structure. On August 13, 1993, with 800,000 pounds of steel used to support the structure, 38 lifting jacks capable of hefting 60 tons each and etc., the lighthouse started its move inland. It took nineteen days to move it to a new location, three hundred feet from the bluff. It had to be moved in a zigzag pattern, so no one part of the light would receive too much stress. After the move, the Block Island Southeast Lighthouse Foundation wanted to relight the lighthouse. The first order Fresnel lens at the light couldn't be used because the mercury had been removed from the revolving apparatus. The Coast Guard removed the lens and replaced it with another first order lens from the Cape Lookout Lighthouse in Beaufort, North Carolina. The Block Island Southeast Light was relighted on August 27, 1994. Block Island Southeast Light Station was named a National Historic Landmark on September 25, 1997. The restoration of the building proceeded, with the ultimate goal of a museum and overnight accommodations inside. The Foundations goal of having a small museum at the light has been accomplished at this time, along with a gift shop and the conducting of tours of the lighthouse during the summer months. Block Island is accessible via ferry from Point Judith, RI, New London, CT, and Montauk, NY. The lighthouse can be reached by walking about 30 minutes from the ferry terminal. Block Island Southeast Lighthouse Foundation, Box 949 Block Island, RI 02807, (401) 466-5009 Photo of SouthEast Light: ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Wood Island Light - Maine Wood Island is an approximate 35 acre parcel of land which lies about two miles east of the entrance to the Saco River and is located less than a mile from the village known as Biddeford Pool. Just a few miles upstream from its mouth, the Saco River divides into two streams that flow around an island and plummet forty feet. Due to these falls and ingenuity of how to put them to use, Roger Spencer was granted the right to build a sawmill on the river in 1653, this leading to the communities of Saco and Biddeford becoming ports of industry. Later, grain and textile mills were also established along the river leading the way in the areas industry, with fish and lumber being two of their other major exports. Fletcher's Neck was considered a hazard to navigation which had increased due to so much industry and on March 8, 1806; the Secretary of the Treasury authorized “to cause a good and sufficient light-house to be erected on Wood Island, or on Fletcher’s Neck, in the district of Maine, and to appoint a keeper, and otherwise provide for such light-house, at the expense of the United States.” Congress appropriated $5,000 for a lighthouse on Wood Island. Following shortly after, Pendleton Fletcher, along with a group of other individuals, provided the eight acres of land the lighthouse would be constructed upon for a price of $140. A year later, contractors Benjamin Beal and Duncan Thaxter agreed to build the wooden, 45 ft. octagonal lighthouse and accompaning one-story dwelling, measuring seventeen by twenty-six feet. The light station was completed by September 1, 1807, for a total sum of $4,750, however for unknown reasons, the lighthouse tower which was sheathed in shingles, was not put into active service until 1808. Benjamin Cole of Saco became the first keeper of the light, and he served only one year before being replaced by Phillip Golthwaite. For twenty-three years Keeper Golthwaite lived on the island with his family, up until his passing in 1832. Upon his death, his son Tristram assumed care of the light until 1833, when weather would permit the family to move their cattle and effects off the island. The care of the light then transferred Abraham Norwood. John Chandler, Collector of Customs for the Port of Portland and overseer of upkeep on the lighthouse, petitioned for a new lighthouse on Wood Island in 1835, feeling that the original tower was rotted beyond repair and stating that it “rocks so that it is impossible to keep it shored up." The original tower actually lasted until 1839, when $5,000 was appropriated for rebuilding the lighthouse and a new 45-foot rubble stone tower which was 20 feet in diameter at the base and 10 feet at the top, was erected. The new keepers house was also built of rubble stone, and constructed at the same time as the tower, but the work was so shoddy that the plaster was dropping off the walls, and the windows were leaking by 1841. The tower, as well, turned out to be so substandard in the workmanship that in 1854 another $5,000 had to be appropriated for rebuilding, and a third Wood Island Lighthouse was erected. The new stone tower stands forty seven feet tall and is attached by a covered walkway to a one and one half story keepers dwelling. Third time is a charm they say, and the quality of builders work in the third tower and dwelling is proven in that the tower and dwelling remain intact and in good condition to this day. The newly constructed light was fitted with a fourth-order Fresnel lens. Remodeling to the keepers dwelling was done in 1906, which involved enlargement of the dwelling by adding a full second story, the addition included raised dormers being added in a Dutch Colonial style. One of the best known keepers in Wood Island's history was Thomas H. Orcutt, a veteran sea captain who was in charge from 1886 until his death in 1905. Orcutt played an active part in the island's most notorious tragedy. The other players were two men by the names of Fred Milliken and Howard Hobbs. Fred Milliken lived on Wood Island with his wife and three children for several years in the 1890s. He was employed as a game warden, and he was also Hobbs landlord. Milliken, 35 yrs old, was described as a giant of a man even though he was of small stature. He was known for his strength in lifting great amounts of weight and his athletic abilities. Howard Hobbs, a 24 year old fisherman hunting seals for a dollar a kill, which was the going bounty paid by the state, lived in the rented shack owned by Milliken which was actually built as a hen house, but Hobbs and his roomy William Moses did not care. The shack neighbored up close to Millikens own house, and the only other building close by being the lighthouse and the keepers house. Hobbs had visited Old Orchard Beach, spending a couple days off with his roomate on a congratulatory bender. It was witnessed and reported that he was plenty intoxicated by the time he left to return to Wood Island on June 2, 1896. Arriving in his skiff back at the Island, it was nearly dusk when Milliken ran into him and requested that Hobbs come over to speak with him about the rent being late. Hobbs took his 42-calibre repeating rifle with him when he left to go to Millikens next door, supposedly to shoot some birds as he informed the companion. Milliken noting that Hobbs was drunk and now carrying a rifle, attempted to discern whether the weapon was loaded, asking him such and then reaching for the gun stating he would check for himself. Hobbs, in his drunken condition, promptly fired off a round into Milliken’s abdomen. Moses assisted Millikens wife in getting him into the house and laid on the bed, then set off to get help at the request of Millikens wife. Hobbs seemed to have sobered from the incident and was immediately regretful of his actions, entering the house and offering to assist Milliken any way he could. Milliken asked him to take off his boots (Millikens), in which Hobbs obliged. He then picked up the rifle once more and told Milliken it was all his fault that he was shot, that if he would not have reached for the gun, this would not have happened. Mrs. Milliken began requesting that Hobbs hand her the gun, stepping towards him. With this he then threatened to shoot Mrs. Milliken as well, as Mr. Milliken attempted to disway him from that action by telling him she had done Hobbs no harm. Mrs. Milliken defused the deranged Hobbs by finally asking him to go to the lighthouse and tell keeper Orcutt what had happened. Hobs then stumbled in his drunken daze to the lighthouse and told Keeper Orcutt that he had just shot his neighbor and landlord. Orcutt rushed to the residence to assist, but shortly after arriving Milliken succumbed to the fatal gunshot wound. Hobbs once again entered the residence inquiring of Mrs. Milliken how her husband was doing. Upon expressing that her husband had passed, he then asked her if she knew what he was going to do now, and proceeded to tell her that he was now going to return home and place a bullet right there, pointing at his right temple. Orcutt advised Hobbs to just turn himself in to the police, but instead he returned to his small shack, penned a quick note, and then turned the gun on himself in his bedroom in the upper loft. Everyone was afraid to enter the shanty after hearing another gunshot, so it was not until his roomate Moses returned that it was discovered that Hobbs was indeed dead by the same gun that ended the life of Milliken. The ball had passed right through his head and lodged itself in the roof timber. Moses found the note on the kitchen table and it simply bade him good-by and asked him to be sure and deliver a letter which he had written to a Biddeford young woman to whom Hobbs had lately been paying some attention. The sealed letter lay beside the note. It was determined over the next few days that there had been no prior troubles between the two parties, just the fact that Hobbs had not paid the rent for some time, and Milliken had given him notice to be out on June 1st. Ever since this event, there have been many ghostly tales told about the island, and some blame it on the 1896 murder-suicide. But tragedy is not the only thing that has attributed to keeper Orcutts legacy and fame that has continued down through the many years since he manned the light. In 1873, a pyramidal fog-bell tower was placed near the tower to house a Steven’s striking-apparatus and support a 1315-pound, cast steel bell. Although the bell worked on a automated mechanism, the station became famous for its four legged bell striker, a dog named Sailor. Sailor belonged to Keeper Orcutt. Sailor was just a mongrel, no impressive pedigrees to be had, but he was brilliant and talented in that he could ring the bell. When ships passing the lighthouse would sound their whistle or toll their bell, Sailor would grasp, with his teeth, the cord attached to the bell clappers and give a hearty yank in a return salute. Storys of Sailors friendly recipocation of the ships salutes made it into many newspapers across the country, bringing both Sailor and Orcutt national fame. Sailor passed away in the arms of his master just a few months before Orcutt himself died. According to a 1900's article in the Boston Globe, Sailor also served as a messenger, delighting in carrying letters and other small articles in his mouth. It was claimed that he understood all that was said to him. The Wood Island Lighthouse was electrified in 1958, when generators were placed on the island. Five years later, the station was connected to the commercial grid via an underwater cable. This modernization simplified life for the resident Coast Guard keepers and led towards the automation of the lighthouse. In the late 1960s, the tower’s fourth-order Fresnel lens and lantern room were removed and replaced by an FA-125 rotating airport beacon, while a foghorn took the place of the fog bell. In 1976, Marshall Alexander transported the original fog bell to the mainland and left it in the yard of the harbormaster. Soon thereafter, the Coast Guard decided to give the bell to a museum in Delaware instead, but local residents, not about to lose their bell, securely chained it to a tree. Senator Edmund Muskie had to step in to settle the dispute, and the bell was eventually installed on the grounds of the Union Church, before later being moved to Vines Landing. Yielding to requests by locals to restore the lighthouse to its proper form, a three-person team fabricated a new 1500-pound lantern room out of aluminum at the Coast Guard’s Industrial Support Detachment in South Portland in 1986. The finished lantern room was then transported to the island and installed by helicopter. That same year the light was automated and the last keeper left the island, literally leaving the island to the birds as in 1970, 28 of the island's 35 acres were deeded to the Maine Audubon Society. The last U.S. Lighthouse Service keeper at Wood Island Light was Earle Benson, a veteran of World War I. He and his wife, Alice, fell in love with Wood Island after being the keepers at Portland Head Light. They were happy to trade the throngs of tourists for the quiet of Wood Island. Following consideration of using Wood Island as the site for a nuclear power plant in the 60's, Mike McQuade became the next keeper of Wood Islands light. A Coast Guardsman, McQuade requested the lighthouse duty, and he and his wife, Patsy, took over duties in July 1976. Natives of Omaha, NE, they wanted to live oceanside and felt they could not have picked a better place then Wood Island. They inherited the station's mascot, a five-year-old collie named Kelly. Kelly came to Wood Island Light as a puppy and performed the important duty of keeping rats and mice under control. The McQuades also brought along Torrey, their Lhasa Apso. In 1978, the McQuades welcomed their first child, Damian, born on the mainland at Webber Hospital in Biddeford. By the 1970s, many improvements had been made to the keeper's house. There were three bedrooms, a kitchen, an office, a living room, laundry room and an upstairs bathroom. The furnace in the basement was converted from coal to oil in the 1950s. Water came from a fresh water well; it was pumped into a 2,000 gallon cistern and then pumped to the faucets as needed. Electric power for the light and the house came from Biddeford Pool and was backed up by a diesel generator. In 1972, Wood Island Light's lantern was removed and a rotating aerobeacon was installed. The public complained about the "headless" lighthouse so a new aluminum lantern was installed when the light was automated and the keeper and his family were removed in 1986. Is Hobbs still haunting the lighthouse and area of the murder-suicide? It appears that poor drunken Hobbs is stuck in replay mode of the event in death, repeating the scene over and over again. Reports of the ghostly happenings are told as such, moaning is heard to be coming from the rented shack Hobbs resided in, and most believe it is Hobbs and not Milliken doing the moaning. At the lighthouse, doors that are locked suddenly are unlocked and opening on their own. It is said by locals that Hobbs and Milliken are still conversing in strange voices carried by the wind. Footsteps echo where there are no feet. Apparitions, quite literally, go bump in the night. Light keepers wife, Teresa Lowell, states that spirits are present in the lighthouse. During their duty as keepers from 1984 to 1986, she claims to have experienced a ghostly encounter in her bedroom and states simply that she felt him, the spirit. There is a tale that the keeper following Orcutt suffered so greatly from the ghostly goings on, that he rowed to the mainland one night to get away from it all, leaving the lamp unlit. They say the next morning he jumped from the third floor of the boarding house he spent the night in, resulting in his own demise. Through research, I found that the keeper following Orcutt was Charles A. Burke who manned the light from 1905 to 1914. In researching the historical chronicles of the Woodland Lighthouse, there is no mention of Burke or any other keeper having died in such a way. I actually only found two notations of this event, one by a 'ghost story' internet site and a tourist attraction internet site. Call 207-286-3229 to set up a tour date and time due to daily occupancy limit. Photos of Wood Island Lighthouse: ![]() ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Penfield Reef Light - Connecticut Named for a colonial era resident of Fairfield, Penfield Reef is a mile-long rock formation about a mile offshore. Over time worn down to a series of islands, centuries back the area was once a peninsula. When a pennisula, it was common to see Cows grazing on the land. Because of this, two of the groups of rock were named 'Cows' and 'Calves'. It is noted to be one of the most dangerous areas of Long Island Sound, a threat to vessels before a lighthouse was in place, and still long after with several vessels a year running aground on the reef. As late as the middle of the 19th century, only a pair of buoys marked the reef, ships were regularly hitting the rocks, and local mariners and merchants protested loudly for a lighthouse to be placed on the reef. Captain D.C. Constable of the Board of Light House Commissioners declared Penfield Reef to be “the most dangerous locality, during fogs and snow-storms, upon Long Island Sound.” In 1868, A. Ludlow Case, lighthouse inspector for the Third District penned, "I have to report that Penfield Reef is one of the great dangers to the navigation of Long Island Sound; it extends quite two miles from the land and is covered with rocks. I am of the opinion that either a light vessel moored in a suitable position to guard them, or a light-house erected on Penfield Reef, is very much needed, and would be a great aid to the navigation of the sound." Board of Commissioners of Light Houses, Benjamin Penfield, also gave opinion declaring, "Vessels are stranded here every year, and our increasing commerce calls attention to something so important for its protection." In the 19th century, Bridgeport, a neighboring city, was developing into a major industrial center and the need for a lighthouse was not only a good proposal for safety reasons, but good for business as well. It took several years of many voicing the need for the lighthouse, but finally in 1870 and 1871 Congress allocated a total of $55,000 for construction of a lighthouse. Built during a period of post-Civil War development of Bridgeport Harbor, first a granite riprap foundation was laid, followed by an 18-foot tall cylindrical pier made out of cut granite with a width of 48 and a half feet at its base. (Around the turn of the century builders added 1,200 tons of riprap to the foundation for extra protection.) The pier was filled with concrete, although space was left near the top for a basement. Then a 28 square foot keeper’s residence, complete with mansard roof and Second Empire detailing, was built upon the pier. The octagonal lighthouse tower is attached to the front end of the two-story stone dwelling. The lower level of the residence included a kitchen, sitting room, and oil room. A wooden stairway led to the four bedrooms on the second level. The 35 foot tower began operation in 1874, with a fourth-order Fresnel lens exhibiting a flashing red light 51 feet above sea level and a machine-operated fog bell. The bell was replaced by a fog horn and, in 1892, by a Daboll fog trumpet. Penfield Reef Light is one of the last offshore masonry lights built before the advent of cast-iron towers built on cylindrical cast-iron foundations. George Tomlinson became the first keeper of the light at Penfield Reef. The lighthouse later had two female assistant keepers, Pauline Jones and Jane Martin, married to the two male keepers. The keepers were subject to long periods of isolation in the lighthouse due to storms kept them from leaving. Keeper Rudolph Iten expressed the following sentiments to another writer, concerning a storm that came in on October 24, 1917, "The waves dashed against the place and shook it to its foundations. They broke above the pier, smashed glass and sashes, and the spray went clean over the light. Wild? I'll say it was! I had a new motor-boat that my father-in-law and I had purchased together. We had taken the engine out for an overhauling. Well, the waves caught that nice, new boat and made kindling wood of it. I was mighty glad at that time that the light was on a good foundation." There are many tales of rescue at the lighthouse. On January 19, 1929, William A. Shackley, Assistant Keeper; left the station at 3:00 a.m. when he noticed a scow in distress. Fighting his way through the heavy seas, Shackley reached the scow and helped the captain and his wife, carrying them to the safety of the lighthouse. In 1930, a sailboat capsized in rough water leaving its four occupants clinging to the overturned boat. Assistant Keeper E.T. Pastorini, was approaching in his boat when one of the fishermen started swimming for shore. Pastorini helped the other three, bringing them to the lighthouse. Later it was learned that the fourth had made it safely to land. Another time the keepers rescued twenty seven occupents of a pleasure boat in distress, and refused the offer of a dollar for their trouble from one of the rescued passengers. However, it is not just the live keepers of the light that have implemented rescues over the years, but first let me tell you of another event in the history of Penfield Reef Light. Just before Christmas on December 22, 1916, Head Keeper Frederick A. Jordan anxiously climbed into a small boat and began rowing towards shore to spend the holiday with his family, whom he had not seen for several weeks as a series of storms had kept him trapped at the lighthouse. The sea was rough when Jordan left in the dory for the mainland. The assistant keeper, named Rudolph Iten, helplessly watched as Jordan’s boat capsized in the choppy seas and recorded what happened in the station's log, "Keeper left station at 12:20 PM and when about 150 yards NW of the light, his boat capsized, but he managed to cling to the overturned boat. He motioned to me to lower the sailboat, but on account of the heavy seas running from the NE, it was impossible to launch the boat alone. At 1:00 PM the wind died down a bit and shifted to the south. I then lowered the boat safely and started off after the keeper who had by this time drifted about one and one half miles to the SW. When about a one half miles from the light, the wind shifted to the SW making a headwind and an outgoing tide which proved too much for me to pull with the heavy boat. I had to give up and returned to the station with the wind now blowing a gale from the WSW. Sent distress signals to several ships but none answered. Lost tract of the keeper at 3:00 PM. He is probably lost." Keeper Jordans body was not too long in the recovering. In his pocket was discovered a note that he had intended to leave for his assistant keeper, asking him to finish the days log entries. It was determined that Iten held no blame in the death of his fellow light keeper. In fact he was promoted to Head Keeper of the light. Strange happening in the light house transpired quickly. It was only days later that Keeper Iten claimed to have observed a ghostly figure gliding down the tower's stairs and then disappearing from view. He then noted that the station's log had been moved to a table and left open to the entry that he had logged concerning the event of Jordans death on December 22, 1916. Iten later, in a local newspaper article, was quoted to have said, "I have seen the semblance of the figure several times, and so have the others [two assistant keepers], and we are all prepared to take an affidavit to that effect. Something comes here, that we are positive. There is an old saying, 'What the Reef takes, the Reef will give back." Keepers of the lighthouse over the decades following the tragedy, have reported strange happenings with the light. The feeling of unsettling extreme cold spots with no explanation for them, and it was reported in 1972 that the light was "not flashing at maximum intensity and was monitored as flashing erratically." It is believed by some that this light problem occurred more outstandingly after a tragedy or shipwreck had occurred. Some attributed this to the light's flasher, and at a later time a Coast Guard spokesman noted "atmospheric conditions" for problems with the light, however the inhabitants of the area believe Jordan was responsible. Be it problems with the light be due to rational cause or the antics of Jordans ghost, there are other events that cannot be so easily dismissed. Many mariners off the Connecticut coast, even to this day, claim that in turbulous weather conditions, the spectre of Jordan is seen on the lantern room gallery or floating above the reef itself. One seafarer attributes his rescue to the spectre of Jordan, when he was having extreme difficulty navigating his power yacht through turbulent weather. He claimed a mysterious figure arrived in a rowboat and guided him to safety, then vanished into thin air. But this is not the only tale of rescue by the ghost of Keeper Jordan. Two boys were in peril of drowning when their boat capsized while fishing near the lighthouse. Again, a pale pallored man appeared out of nowhere, pulling the boys to the safety of the rocks along the lighthouse. Upon reviving from their harrowing experience, the boys went looking in the lighthouse for their rescuer, to give their thanks, but there was no there to be readily found and upon locating the Keeper, he was clueless as to what they were talking about. Later, the rescued lads identified Jordan, through a photograph, as being the one who had rescued them. In the more recent past, another couple lost in the fog near the light, were guided to safety by a mysterious man in a dory who then vanished when they reached safety. Perhaps Jordan, having battled the fury of the sea and lost, has now made it his mission in death to spare others from the same fate, thereby claiming some kind of victory over the sea that robbed him of precious life. The last Keeper in charge at Penfield Reef was Coast Guard officer, Clark Ellison, who has shared this memory of his time at the station, "I never believed in ghosts and had never even heard the story when I encountered him the first time. Stanley Blake and I were on the light and it was late at night. I heard Stan walking up the stairs and decided to get up and have coffee with him thinking it was just before sunrise. I got out of bed and pulled on a pair of shorts and as I came out of the door I noticed there was no one coming up the stairs after all. It was at that time that Stan opened the door to his room and it was obvious he just woke up also. He said, 'I did not know you were up and when I heard you I decided to get up and have some coffee.' He and I slinked around the light looking for who was intruding and found no one. We were both sure someone had walked up the stairs as you could hear each step creak one at a time, as they always did when someone came up." Penfield Reef Light went automated in 1971. Replacement of the lighthouse with a modern pipe tower was in the planning by the Coast Guard until local residents kicked up a fuss. The wonderful Penfield Reef Lighthouse was spared with the help of Congressman Lowell Weicker and State Representative Stewart McKinney. To this day the light is an active aid to navigation and the automated fog signal is still in use. The old Fresnel lens was replaced by a modern lens, and the Coast Guard had the lantern stabilized, when in 2000 it was determined to be in jeporday of collapsing. Penfield Reef Lighthouse was placed on the National Register of Historic Places in 1990. In April 2007, it was announced by the Coast Guard that the lighthouse would be available for purchase under the guidelines of the National Historic Lighthouse Preservation Act of 2000. As part of the 2007 Program for the National Historic Lighthouse Preservation Act, the Penfield Reef Lighthouse was offered to qualified entities, including non-profit organization and state and local agencies. Although several organizations initially expressed interest in the property, only the Town of Fairfield and Beacon Preservation submitted a formal application. On July 29, 2008, Beacon Preservation was informed that they had submitted a "superior" and were being recommended to assume ownership of the lighthouse. Beacon Preservation, which earlier acquired Goose Rocks Lighthouse in Maine, plans to partner with Aquaculture School in Bridgeport, Fairfield University, and Western Connecticut State University who will jointly use the site as a research facility. Penfield Reef Light can be viewed distantly from Fairfield Beach and from the Black Rock section of Bridgeport. Although it is reportedly possible to walk to the lighthouse during low tide, legend claims that an incoming tide swept away one family attempting the crossing. Be this true or possibly just a fabricated tale to dissuade the overly adventurous, wading it is not considered safe, the safest way being by boat in the command of a capable captain familiar with the area. A sign warns boaters of the rocks near the lighthouse due to numerous boaters hitting the rocks while trying to get close...that is close enough to read the sign. Photos of Penfield Reef Lighthouse: ![]() ![]() ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ ~TIME FOR A 'KRISTIES' HAUNTINGLY HISTORICAL TIDBITS' LIGHTHOUSE TOUR BREAK~ A tidbit of hauntingly historical information from the Florida Keys (Sand Key and Key West). The two lighthouses, Sand Key and Old Key West, were both manned by female lighthouse keepers, appointed by the Lighthouse board upon the deaths of their respective husbands. Rebecca Flaherty tended Sand Key and Barbara Mabrity tended Old Key West. Being of like circumstances, they shared a common bond and friendship. They could view one anothers lights from their respective light towers, and checked on each other often. A wicked hurricane hit land in the Keys in October of 1846. Flaherty and her five children took refuge in the light tower, believing of course that it would withstand the storm more readily then the keepers house. Mabrity and her eight children did likewise, as well as other residents from the Key. Mabrity went up the tower stairs to light the lamps, and upon descending, the staircase collapsed, right along with the entire tower claiming the lives of all that cowered within the confines of the lighthouse, sparing only Mabrity and one of children. When the storm subsided, Mabrity decided to see how her fellow keeper Flaherty faired the tragic storm, peering over to the Sand Key Light, but it was gone, all of it, including Flaherty and all her children, swallowed up by the sea and carried to places unknown. Are the sites, where the lighthouses stood, haunted? I am not sure at this time, but that is a question I may be able to answer with further research and maybe these lights will find their places in my blog of haunted lights. Ready for another hauntingly historical tidbit, this one about Block Island? Well, before lighthouses came into existance, some towns used to survive hard times by being what is referred to as, "shipwreckers," or "mooncussers." Block Island being a famous location for such, they were essentially land pirates, pirates without a vessel nor did they ever sail upon the seas. The land pirates would light fires along the hazardous cliffs for the purpose of luring vessels in to their demise. Once the ship was nothing but a carnage of wreckage from hurling into the cliffs lured towards, the pirates would wade out and steal the cargo or treasures. Even some ministers participated in such greedy behavior, at least on Block Island one did. In the 1600's, a minister from the mainland came to Block Island to try to stop the actions of the wreckers. Pastor Seth Baldwin was not successful in his endeavor by any means, and just found himself starving on the Island. He then pleaded with the islanders to meet with him requesting that each family donate food, anything regardless how small, just to help him survive. They refused his request, instead devising a solution that followed suit with their own means of survival in that he either join them or starve. They voted to give him his very own flotsam (Wreckage or cargo that remains afloat after a ship has sunk) hook which is made from a pole with a bent nail in it. They even made his an inch longer then their own, so he would have a bit of an advantage. They informed him that if he could not take care of himself with that edge, then he deserved to starve to death. I guess he had no choice but to take them up on their offer, and so the story goes...and then there was Chrissy, a female survivor of one of the many ships the wreckers escorted to its demise. The wreckers assisted the Dutch woman to shore, and she built a dwelling right where she landed. She, as well, had no choice but to join the island means of sustaining herself, but in her case she either found her nitch in life, or she ended up a mad woman from the entire harrowing experience. Crissy turned out to be very ruthless, as she waded out into the deeper waters with a club, lifting her skirts as she went, just to dispense of any survivors from the ships. I guess she did not have the same compassion for others that was granted to herself, or maybe she was just sparing them a bleak future like her own. The latter is very doubtful however, because she became a 'pro' at luring the ships and collecting the bounty, so good in fact that she was made leader of the wreckers and the group was soon known as 'Chrissys Gang'. She had become a legend in the wrecking community, and gained even more notariety for such when one day she recognized a survivoring floater to be her very own son, Edward, who gave up the lawlessness of the wreckers and set out to be a merchant sailor. As she hovered over him with her menacing club, he cried out to her saying, "It is me mom, your son Edward". With that she glared him directly in the eyes, drew back her club and blungeoned him to death. Afterall, "A son is but a son, but a wreck is survival", or so that was Chrissys way of rationalizing it. Yes, Chrissy was the most vile wrecker probably ever to exist, a legend, and the practice of wrecking continued on for many years, communities adopting the mantra of the sea pirates, "Dead men tell no tales". It truly is no wonder that Block Island celebrates a very haunted history even today. One last haunted historical tidbit before we resume with our haunted lighthouses in America. Have you ever seen the classic Alfred Hitchcock movie, 'The Birds'? Maybe it was not just based on the writers vivid imagination as we thought. Virginias lighthouse in Hog Island became a real live movie scene on February 22, 1900. It was nature gone wild. Hundreds of ducks and geese launched an unprovoked and all out assualt on the lighthouse one cold and calm evening. As the sun was disappearing beyond the horizon, thumps began emitting from the lantern room. As the keeper ascended the stairs to investigate the thumping, he was startled to find hundreds of birds, like military bombers, slamming themselves with vengence into the lighthouse. He witnessed ducks, then geese, ascending upon the structure with fierce velosity. It was almost as if one large goose in particular was strategizing his attack, flying above the tower and then divebombing with accurate aim through the window, rebounding into the lens and shattering one of the prisms. More followed suit, lodging themselves in the broken glass and fighting to get in. Not quite knowing how to defend oneself against feathered foul, the keeper and his assistant retrieved their shotguns and began a return assualt of flying bullets, hoping to at least frighten the birds away, but it was a fruitless effort. The birds continued with their assualt upon the lighthouse throughout the rest of the night. Come daybreak, blood was splattered throughout the lantern deck and in the lantern room, and the mangled bodies of 68 feathered foul lay scattered about the base of the tower. Somehow through it all, the light had continued to burn on. The keepers set right to work, placing mesh around the broken window and cleaning up the bloody carnage. All was well again, other then the baffling question of what had gotten into the birds at Hog Island. However, it was not over yet. The birds began their vicious assualt once again, two nights following the first attack. With the handles of brooms, the keepers managed to wage some kind of a return defense, knocking approximately 150 of the feathered assailants to the ground within the first hour. However, exhausted and not deterring the attackers one bit, the men finally retreated and hid in the base of the tower. Right before the sun was due to break on the horizon, the lamp also gave up the fight, defeated by the birds assualt. With daylight and calm descending upon the lighthouse once again, complete devastation is what met the eyes of the keepers when they went to assess the damage. Hog Island light recovered from the mysterious assualts, the light was repaired and with clean up; the lighthouse lit the way for mariners comfortably for another 48 years, never suffering further attack. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Seul Choix Point Lighthouse - Michigan Lake Michigan, from as early as the 1600's and before the white mans arrival, has been inhabited by Native Americans due to the stocks of whitefish and lake trout that are abundant in the local waters of Lake Michigan. A fishing village had been established by the middle of the 1800’s. Seul Choix was the location of the first store or trading post built around 1850. Due to the vast timber rescources, the logging industry flourished in the area thereafter. The Soo Line railroad entered into the mix in 1887, and a limestone quarry was developed around 1930. The early and continuing development was a catalyst for the entry of large vessels in order to transport the fish, lumber and passengers. In the early years, the Native Americans and French explorers traveled in canoes or small ‘Mackinac’ boats across the Northern part of Lake Michigan. The 75 mile stretch, from the Straits of Mackinac to what is known today as ManistiqueIt, was treacherous going in the storms that pervade the area, and the boaters only had one safe place of refuge in foul weather conditions, the bay near the present day Port Inland. The bay was soon referred to, by the Frenchmen that traversed through and sought shelter there, as Seul Choix, which means "Only Choice", pronounced by the French as "Sel Shwa", and by the locals as "Sish Schwah". The early navigation aids along the northern Lake Michigan coast were the lighthouses at St. Helena Island, erected in 1872, and Peninsula Point erected in 1866, which were good, however it still left a one hundred mile gap of darkened shoreline, with Seul Choix Bay located about midway. Efforts began to have a lighthouse erected on Seul Choix Point. Those efforts were successful in 1886, when Congress appropriated $15,000 to build a light tower and fog signal on the point. It was not completed, however, until 1892. This due to various complications and having to rebuild the original tower, with another $8000 appropriated for its construction, before the project was completed. The completion of the fog signal building came in 1895, so some refer to the completion year as being the same. However, the lamp was lit with completion of the tower itself and actually went into service on August 6th of 1892. The entire complex consisted of the still present conical '78-foot and 9 inches' tower (to the top of the ventilator ball), some just state it as 79 feet, and the attached two story keeper’s dwelling, a steam fog signal building, a stable, boathouse, two oil storage buildings, a brick privy, and a boat dock and tramway to the fog signal building. It is is located at Seul Choix Point near Goudreau's Harbor, on the north shore of Lake Michigan about 60 miles west of the Straits of Mackinac. The light overlooks the Northern part of Lake Michigan, guiding ships around Seul Choix Point and the long under water shoal that extends from the banks. The 78-79 foot tall white conical tower is the typical elaborate “Poe Style” named after General Orlando M. Poe, who provided the original design. The Poe style light towers are easily recognized by the ornate brackets which support the gallery around the lantern room and the four windows below the gallery which have semi-circular stone arch head pieces. The tower rests on an ashlar foundation 12 feet high, with 5 feet below grade, and has a diameter of 18 feet at the base of the brickwork, and 12 feet, 8 inches at the parapet. The tower is surmounted by a ten sided cast iron lantern room that originally held a third order Fresnel lens manufactured by Le Paute of Paris. The lighthouse exhibited a fixed red light, varied by a red flash every fifteen seconds, and its beacon was visible for thirteen miles. The station also operated a fog signal which was a 10 inch steam whistle. The tower is attached to the keepers house by a small enclosed corridor of red brick. The two story house, large enough to accommodate two families, is also finished in red brick, including several rooms that have been added on to the original structure. Matching brick archways support the roof of a porch that is deeply recessed into the front of the house. White trim around the windows and eaves contrast with the deep color of the bricks. The interior living space was divided with a wall to provide equal space for an additional family. The wall has since been removed, but the building still contains two kitchen areas. In order to serve as housing for the assistant keeper, the station's timber-framed barn was moved close to the main brick dwelling in 1907, and converted into a two-story dwelling. After construction of a new brick assistant's quarters off the main dwelling in 1925, the old structure was sold and moved off site to a nearby inland lake. However, in the fall of 2006, the old structure was moved back to the lighthouse site. In 1972, regulation of this light was transferred to the U.S. Coast Guard and the lens was automated with an airport type beacon, the tending of the lighthouse by man finally being abandoned in 1973. The original Fresnel lens was taken to USCG Station Soo and has since disappeared. The new light has a visibility range of 17 miles. Joseph Willie Townsend, a sailing captain from Bristol, England; who came to Michigan through Norfolk, Ontario in the 1870's; plays a very significant part in the history of the lighthouse. In fact he is the one and only keeper that I have found mentioned in relation to the history of the light. Captain Townsend became the keeper of the Seul Choix light from 1902 to 1910, before that being a lighthouse keeper at Skillagalee and Waugoshance Shoal. He married twice and had three children. His son, Ivan Townshend worked as an assistant keeper at Seul Choix and also at Sheboygan. Keeper Townsend was a heavy cigar smoker which annoyed his wife. She refused to let him smoke in the house and relentlessly pursued him to just quit altogether. Her efforts were fruitless hower, and the old keeper-Captain continued to puff away until he came down with lung cancer. He took to the bed in one of the upstairs bedrooms and that is were he succumbed to the terminal disease following a difficult and painful death struggle, which is common of the disease. Immediately following his death, he was drained in preparation for his wake and placed in the basement, where he remained for several months due to the winter weather producing so much snow that he could not be buried. Once the thaw came, he was laid out in the parlor in wait for his relatives to assemble from different locations. The old Captain did a lot of waiting around after his demise, but finally and ultimately he was buried near to the lighthouse in a cedar coffin. I guess you just can't keep a good keeper down, because Townsends signifigance to todays history of the lighthouse is the fact that his malingering spirit is what makes Seul Choix so famous for being haunted. Maybe he waited around in the house so long to be put to rest, he just decided he was not meant to leave and needed to continue on as the keeper. Apparently he is taking full advantage of the situation, because he now readily smokes his cigars in the keepers house, and no one can stop him. Staff and visitors alike have experienced the strong smell of lit cigars wafting through the house, and to this day it is still a very common phenominon. But that is not the only happenings, concerning Townsend, that have occurred and made him a legend in spirit form. Unlike most lighthouses that, as a researcher of the history and haunted events, you have to dig deeply for information concerning the haunted events; the staff at Seul Choix not only take pride in their lighthouse, they also take pride in their ghost to our great delight. They are very open about their ghost. Most lighthouse preservation groups provide abundant logistical facts about the light and tend to leave out the haunted details, however with Seul Choix Point I found quite the opposite, where I lacked in historical logistics, the tales of keeper Townsend flowed. I believe this is what has made Seul Choix one the most publicized lights in America. The other great aspect of that is, we can know without a doubt that the haunted happenings are factual and not just rumor. The very first evidence to the staff at Seul Choix, that Captain Townsend was still on the job, is when they retrieved from the basement storage and reassembled the round kitchen table, placing it in the kitchen as it would have been in Townsends day. They set the table, as if it were dinner time and the family would be sitting down to eat at any moment, as most homestead museums do to illustrate life as it was when the structure was inhabited. The problem is, Captain Townsend must really think it is dinner time and he sits down to have a ghostly bite at times. According to staff, there have been hundreds of repeated incidents of forks being found turned upside down, placed on the edge of a plate or forming a cross with a knife. It is known that Captain Townsend's typical way of laying a fork on his plate was with the tines down. The chairs are also disturbed when this occurs. On one occassion, an alarm company was called out to give an estimate for an alarm system at the lighthouse. The company employee was provided a key to let himself him at his own convenience. After a walk through of the property and locking back up, he retreated to his vehicle to work up the estimate quote. While sitting there writing, he happened to look up at the windows of the house and in one those windows his eyes met with the spectre of Townsend gazing right back at him. Needless to say, very shaken, he immediately dropped his clipboard and fired up his vehicle, exiting at a high rate of speed. Another alarm company installed the system by the way, I guess the first fellow wanted no part of going back into the dwelling. It is common to feel cold spots, especially in the staircase. M. Fischer, of the Gulliver Historical Society, has given statements that she has experienced the Captains spirit several times, stating he performs poltergeist type things such as changing hats around, arranging the table settings, slamming shut the bible, she and others have heard footsteps on the stairs in the keepers dwelling and also climbing the lighthouse steps. She stated that they have never seen the cigar smoke, but they can smell the strong stench of it. She told how each day all the staff call out a greeting to the Captain when arriving and a farewell when leaving. As early as 1960, there have been many persons to report the strange happenings occurring in the keeper’s dwelling. It is nice to know though, that the Captain is such a welcome spirit among those who preserve the lighthouse and dwelling, so much so that he has been immortalized in a series set of children’s books at the Seul Choix Light. Some other interesting notes about the lighthouse are that there have been many artifacts found at the lighthouse property, one of these being a canoe that archeologists have estimated to be between 150 and 300 years old, believing it pre-dates white mans arrival to the area. The canoe was found buried in the sand near the light. Seul Choix Point Light is now on the Michigan Historical Site Registry. For more information, write to the Gulliver Historical Society, Route 1, Gulliver, MI 49854 or call (906) 283-3169. Photos of Seul Choix Point Light and Captain Townsend: ![]()
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