It seems as though the people of Tigerton are fond of treasure stories. First is Al Capone's buried treasure, now is a story of a house with a treasure trove of cash hidden within. But this tale also has an element of the supernatural added to it.
Just outside of Tigerton Wisconsin, sits a farm. The Victorian style house is nothing short of a small mansion. Built and owned by a prominent businessman of the tiny community. He and his wife had two children, a son and a daughter, one of which was disabled. At some point in his life, it is said that he hid his fortune somewhere within the structure of the house. The children continued to live there after their parents passed away, living together as a caretaker and invalid, neither marrying. People say that they still have not left the house to this day. After their passing, the house was sold and rented out, never keeping a tenant longer than a couple of months due to the odd disturbances happening. Eventually the house fell vacant and beccame a popular party spot with treasure hunting on the mind. Much of the beautiful inlay flooring and other structures were destroyed in the hunt. The money was never found.
With the permission of the current owner at the time, a friend, her nine year old son and I went to the house. Even in it's run down state, it was a sight to behold. The house never lost it's majesty. We were there for two reasons. One, because I love old houses and was a bit obsessed with touring it. Two, we wanted to see spooks. Her son was interested in the hidden money, but we didn't believe it. If it had been true, somebody should have found it already. The house itself was still surprisingly solid considering all the vandalism and neglect. It actually felt a little welcoming.
After looking through all the rooms on the two main floors, we headed up to the attic. Her son went off on his own (we were too weird for him). It was monstrous and in better shape than the rest of the house. The windows lit it up nicely except in the turret. At the moment we noticed it, we looked at each other and then ran. When we were out of the house, we found her son waiting for us and he was spooked badly and mad at us, "Where were you guys? I couldn't find you so I waited downstairs. I heard you coming down the (servants) stairs and didn't see anybody, so I went to the other stairs and still nobody. I ran out here and waited. There is no way I'm going back in that house".
We were up in the attic.
We then asked each other about what spooked us. Both us felt like we were being watched and that was why we looked at the corner.
I am guessing our imaginations took over since we were raring for it, but her son didn't believe in ghosts. He informed us they were lame. Not so much anymore, poor kid. No money was found, though we walked away with a good story to tell.
As of today, the house has new owners and it has been rebuilt to it's original state. I have heard no more rumors about it's ghostly inhabitants. Maybe they are happy that their home is fixed. I wish I had brought a camera that day so I could have before and after pictures.
Thursday, September 27, 2012
Buried Treasure
This story is not of the supernatural type, but it is a local legend. I was told this by a couple friends years ago.
Tigerton, Wisconsin
Outside this small town on an overgrown abandoned farm, Al Capone supposedly has treasure buried. If you are lucky enough to find the remains of this homestead, be wary of where you tread. Covered pits and other unknown booby traps are abundant.
According to the friend I had talked to about this, he had gone treasure hunting and thought he found the farm. He and his friend(s) had stumbled across several hidden pits that didn't appear to be normal for a farm. The only thing left to signify there had been one was an old silo.
It is possible that Al Capone has been there, or at least through Tigerton. In Maribel, there was a hotel that eventually started to cater to gangsters and bootleggers. If he did do business her or stayed there, that would put Tigerton very close to the path up to his retreat in Couderay. Whether it is true or not, it is still an interesting story.
In an attempt to map out where he has been in Wisconsin, I have come to the realization that I need to visit the library and and get copies of maps. The old maps I find online are not meant to be viewed properly without a cost (my eyes are mad at me now). Who knows what else I'll be able to turn up in my hometowns tiny library? Maybe a cursed book? I would find something like that, and not to my benefit in the least.
Tigerton, Wisconsin
Outside this small town on an overgrown abandoned farm, Al Capone supposedly has treasure buried. If you are lucky enough to find the remains of this homestead, be wary of where you tread. Covered pits and other unknown booby traps are abundant.
According to the friend I had talked to about this, he had gone treasure hunting and thought he found the farm. He and his friend(s) had stumbled across several hidden pits that didn't appear to be normal for a farm. The only thing left to signify there had been one was an old silo.
It is possible that Al Capone has been there, or at least through Tigerton. In Maribel, there was a hotel that eventually started to cater to gangsters and bootleggers. If he did do business her or stayed there, that would put Tigerton very close to the path up to his retreat in Couderay. Whether it is true or not, it is still an interesting story.
In an attempt to map out where he has been in Wisconsin, I have come to the realization that I need to visit the library and and get copies of maps. The old maps I find online are not meant to be viewed properly without a cost (my eyes are mad at me now). Who knows what else I'll be able to turn up in my hometowns tiny library? Maybe a cursed book? I would find something like that, and not to my benefit in the least.
Friday, September 21, 2012
Black-Eyed Children
Since I brought this up in my last post, I thought it should at least be explained. It is easy to find all sorts of information on the internet about these creepy kids, but Mythbuster2009 did a good job of bringing the original published story to us. Instead of borrowing from him, I'll just send you his way. So, click on the link below and enjoy!
Urban Legends, Folklore, Myths and Fairy Tales: Brian Bethel and Jon Northwood BEK Accounts
Urban Legends, Folklore, Myths and Fairy Tales: Brian Bethel and Jon Northwood BEK Accounts
Scaring My Family
This is slightly off the subject, but I was just thinking about the mean stuff I have pulled on my family. Well, my older sister and my mom. My younger sister doesn't fall for my pranks very easily. I really need to leave my mom alone, she's too old to be scaring, but she's such an easy target.
Mom scare #1: A couple Halloweens ago, my husband and another couple dressed up to go out. Since I enjoy the horror genre, I ran with an idea. With the help of glue and make up (it's amazing what you can do with a few household items), I made myself up as a slasher victim. I have to admit, it turned out very nice (yup, I'm bragging). On our way to a bar, we made a pit stop at my poor unsuspecting mother's. Luckily, she never heard us pull in, so I got out and stood in front of her patio doors waiting for her to turn around while she was busy in the kitchen. Turn around, she did, and almost jumped into the sink. She still hasn't forgiven me for that.
Mom scare #2: That following spring we had a late heavy snowfall. Her house is just a tad bit off my path for work and I decided to stop in and say "Hi" on my way home. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't home. I made a cute little snowman that had red licorice eyes and a not so sweet looking smile thanks to the eyes. I set it on a little rocking horse she had on her patio and placed that in front on the patio doors. The next morning I received quite the earful about this evil little snowman staring at her as she was having her morning coffee.
Mom scare #3: Last year I had read about the Black-Eyed Children and thought it was interesting. This one is an unintentional scare. I told her about this story during a phone conversation. She wasn't thrilled about hearing it while she was home alone at night. Kinda creeped myself out also and I didn't even believe the story. Well, the next day I get yet another earful from her. She ended up closing all her curtains and locking the doors. When her boyfriend came home that night, she wouldn't even let him in right away. I received a pleasant "Thank you" from him also. Ha ha.
Mom scare #4: The other week, my always worrying mother (whom I love) was visiting and complaining about how I never lock my doors when I'm home alone and tried using scare tactics to get me to do so. "You never know if some weirdo will try getting in." Heh. I gave her something to think about on her way home. I told her to be careful if she sees somebody standing along the side of the road. Especially if they disappear when she gets close to them, because if they do and you look in the rear view mirror, you'll see them sitting in the back seat. About 10 minutes after she left, I get a phone call that turned into yet another earful. Apparently my story got to her. She told me drove about 80 all the way home.
The one big sister scare: This is the conversation that lead me to write this. I was talking to my older sister and told her about my latest mom scare. She thought it was funny. Mean, but funny. Then I reminded her of the time I scared our mom with the Black-Eyed Children and proceeded to read the story out loud off the internet. Yet another unhappy camper, especially since she is going to be home alone this weekend. I might add that she was never easy to scare when we were in school. She was the type that could watch a scary movie by herself and be fine. At some point that changed. I learned this during our conversation. This is not information I should have my hands on. But, since I do, she's fair game. To add fuel to the fire, I told her to watch out for that person on the side of the road. (What? It worked on my mom). After that, she wouldn't let me get another word out. Just kept telling me to shut it. This morning I asked her if she wanted to watch some movies this weekend. That was a no go. Wonder why? The temptation to mess with her is great...
Yes. I am an evil daughter and sister.
Mom scare #1: A couple Halloweens ago, my husband and another couple dressed up to go out. Since I enjoy the horror genre, I ran with an idea. With the help of glue and make up (it's amazing what you can do with a few household items), I made myself up as a slasher victim. I have to admit, it turned out very nice (yup, I'm bragging). On our way to a bar, we made a pit stop at my poor unsuspecting mother's. Luckily, she never heard us pull in, so I got out and stood in front of her patio doors waiting for her to turn around while she was busy in the kitchen. Turn around, she did, and almost jumped into the sink. She still hasn't forgiven me for that.
Mom scare #2: That following spring we had a late heavy snowfall. Her house is just a tad bit off my path for work and I decided to stop in and say "Hi" on my way home. Unfortunately for her, she wasn't home. I made a cute little snowman that had red licorice eyes and a not so sweet looking smile thanks to the eyes. I set it on a little rocking horse she had on her patio and placed that in front on the patio doors. The next morning I received quite the earful about this evil little snowman staring at her as she was having her morning coffee.
Mom scare #3: Last year I had read about the Black-Eyed Children and thought it was interesting. This one is an unintentional scare. I told her about this story during a phone conversation. She wasn't thrilled about hearing it while she was home alone at night. Kinda creeped myself out also and I didn't even believe the story. Well, the next day I get yet another earful from her. She ended up closing all her curtains and locking the doors. When her boyfriend came home that night, she wouldn't even let him in right away. I received a pleasant "Thank you" from him also. Ha ha.
Mom scare #4: The other week, my always worrying mother (whom I love) was visiting and complaining about how I never lock my doors when I'm home alone and tried using scare tactics to get me to do so. "You never know if some weirdo will try getting in." Heh. I gave her something to think about on her way home. I told her to be careful if she sees somebody standing along the side of the road. Especially if they disappear when she gets close to them, because if they do and you look in the rear view mirror, you'll see them sitting in the back seat. About 10 minutes after she left, I get a phone call that turned into yet another earful. Apparently my story got to her. She told me drove about 80 all the way home.
The one big sister scare: This is the conversation that lead me to write this. I was talking to my older sister and told her about my latest mom scare. She thought it was funny. Mean, but funny. Then I reminded her of the time I scared our mom with the Black-Eyed Children and proceeded to read the story out loud off the internet. Yet another unhappy camper, especially since she is going to be home alone this weekend. I might add that she was never easy to scare when we were in school. She was the type that could watch a scary movie by herself and be fine. At some point that changed. I learned this during our conversation. This is not information I should have my hands on. But, since I do, she's fair game. To add fuel to the fire, I told her to watch out for that person on the side of the road. (What? It worked on my mom). After that, she wouldn't let me get another word out. Just kept telling me to shut it. This morning I asked her if she wanted to watch some movies this weekend. That was a no go. Wonder why? The temptation to mess with her is great...
Yes. I am an evil daughter and sister.
Thursday, September 20, 2012
Barn Dance of Vernon County, WI
It is said that in Vernon County, you can occasionally hear music playing in the hills at night. It is mysterious and nobody can identify the source. If you ever find yourself lost on the back roads, be wary of where you stop for help.
There is a round barn with sounds of music and laughter of a lively barn dance. If you choose to go in, you will find everybody dressed in clothes of a bygone era. Be careful of what you say, otherwise they will reveal themselves as the dead. As you leave in fear, you will see the barn in a decrepit state. If they allow you to leave...
Wednesday, September 19, 2012
Marsh Rd
Back in the 90's when I was in high school, a group of me and my friends went to Weyauwega. Our goal? To find Marsh Rd. and to to see some ghosts. The instigator told us about the legend of the end of this road.
About 10 years prior, the homecoming king and queen had gone down to the end of the road to the "party spot" ahead of their friends. When everybody else showed up, they found the couple had hanged themselves from the branch of a big oak tree. Now, every year at that time, you can see their ghostly bodies swinging from the tree.
This was gonna be fun. Or not. We found the road, which was creepy enough to enhance the anticipation of seeing something scary. It seemed as though the drive down the road took forever, even though we went along it slowly. It was wooded on one side and the other was lined with trees and brush with an occasional opening to a field. I believe we even crossed a very small bridge. Finally, we arrived at our destination. In the headlights, you could see an old run down shack. It took a moment before we spotted the tree. Wrapped around around the tree were the remnants of police tape. For some reason, that sight alone scared the hell out of us, especially the driver. She threw the car in reverse and drove as fast as she could backwards down the road. We had figured that little bridge was the halfway point, but we weren't finding it. After a bit, one of my friends needed to relieve herself quite badly, but we didn't want to stop. After we still hadn't come to the end, we finally stopped so she could take care of business. Waiting for her, our fear grew more intense. When she finally got back in, we didn't wait for the door to shut and we were getting the hell out of there. It wasn't much longer when we finally came to the main road. We never did see the ghosts. We never did figure out why we never crossed that bridge a second time. We also never did figure out why, even though she drove much faster in reverse (thanking God she was good at driving), that the road seemed so much longer on the way back. Our fear? That may have distorted things a bit. Who knows.
The next day, I asked my mom if she had ever heard of a couple committing suicide in Weyauwega. She thought she heard something about that years ago, but she wasn't sure.
Years later, Weyauwega would be known for the "Goatman of Marsh Rd". The story of a couple from the 60's or 70's that went to the make out point and were killed by the goatman as they were messing around on an old couch that had been left on the side of this road. The road itself is said to be strange. The distance changes when you travel up and down it.
Last year, my mom worked with a woman (she is about my age) that is from Weyauwega. At some point I had told my mom about our experience. Recalling this, she asked her co-worker about it. The woman was quite surprised because our story is the one she grew up knowing, not the goatman, and not a lot of people talked about the original. Unfortunately, she couldn't verify the deaths.
So, was the goatman legend just an embellishment of an original? Could be. I wouldn't recommend going down that road anymore, though. It is a private road and there is also a house built on it and the owners are known not to put up with suspicious vehicles.
About 10 years prior, the homecoming king and queen had gone down to the end of the road to the "party spot" ahead of their friends. When everybody else showed up, they found the couple had hanged themselves from the branch of a big oak tree. Now, every year at that time, you can see their ghostly bodies swinging from the tree.
This was gonna be fun. Or not. We found the road, which was creepy enough to enhance the anticipation of seeing something scary. It seemed as though the drive down the road took forever, even though we went along it slowly. It was wooded on one side and the other was lined with trees and brush with an occasional opening to a field. I believe we even crossed a very small bridge. Finally, we arrived at our destination. In the headlights, you could see an old run down shack. It took a moment before we spotted the tree. Wrapped around around the tree were the remnants of police tape. For some reason, that sight alone scared the hell out of us, especially the driver. She threw the car in reverse and drove as fast as she could backwards down the road. We had figured that little bridge was the halfway point, but we weren't finding it. After a bit, one of my friends needed to relieve herself quite badly, but we didn't want to stop. After we still hadn't come to the end, we finally stopped so she could take care of business. Waiting for her, our fear grew more intense. When she finally got back in, we didn't wait for the door to shut and we were getting the hell out of there. It wasn't much longer when we finally came to the main road. We never did see the ghosts. We never did figure out why we never crossed that bridge a second time. We also never did figure out why, even though she drove much faster in reverse (thanking God she was good at driving), that the road seemed so much longer on the way back. Our fear? That may have distorted things a bit. Who knows.
The next day, I asked my mom if she had ever heard of a couple committing suicide in Weyauwega. She thought she heard something about that years ago, but she wasn't sure.
Years later, Weyauwega would be known for the "Goatman of Marsh Rd". The story of a couple from the 60's or 70's that went to the make out point and were killed by the goatman as they were messing around on an old couch that had been left on the side of this road. The road itself is said to be strange. The distance changes when you travel up and down it.
Last year, my mom worked with a woman (she is about my age) that is from Weyauwega. At some point I had told my mom about our experience. Recalling this, she asked her co-worker about it. The woman was quite surprised because our story is the one she grew up knowing, not the goatman, and not a lot of people talked about the original. Unfortunately, she couldn't verify the deaths.
So, was the goatman legend just an embellishment of an original? Could be. I wouldn't recommend going down that road anymore, though. It is a private road and there is also a house built on it and the owners are known not to put up with suspicious vehicles.
Monday, September 17, 2012
The Bloody Mary Experience
This is my very first post. Feeling kind of weird about this. I'm planning to keep this as local lore and urban legends. Personal experiences with them is always the best. =D So, let me start with my first experience with Bloody Mary. It is one of my first memories as little child and set the tone for my life long interest in horror and scary tales
As a little child, I went everywhere my older sister went. At about the time I was 4 or 5 years old we had lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere with a couple of neighbors about a half mile away in each direction. The one to the south of us were friends, but the one north of us was another farm and I didn't know them. My sister and I always rode our bikes up and down the road, never any farther than either place. One day, as I was hopping on my bike to follow my sister yet again, she stops me and tells me that Bloody Mary lives in that house up the road.
What? Who's she?
"She is a girl that is covered in blood and will scratch your face off if she catches you."
W-what?!
"You better not go near that house or she will get you!"
MOOOMMYYYY!
I never did follow her on my bike again in that direction. I would even lay on the floor of the car trying to hide from Bloody Mary as we'd pass that house when we went into town. Eventually, I'd work up the nerve to peek out the window to see if I could catch a glimpse of her.
A few years later, we were living in town. One night when my parents were out, the babysitter brought up Bloody Mary.
Hmmm? We used to live down the road from her.
"Really? Do you know the story about her?"
Y-yeah and she'll scratch your face off if you get caught by her.
"Heehee. Wanna hear the whole story?"
N-no.
"I'll tell you anyways, but I'll tell you in the bathroom."
Everybody shuffled into the bathroom and the babysitter shuts the door. I didn't go in at first because I didn't want to hear the story. Then I got more scared about being left alone and made them let me in. BIG mistake.
"Well, It's about a girl named Mary that was a very beautiful. One night, as she was looking into her mirror, she begged to stay beautiful forever. Just then a demon appeared in it, reached through the glass and grabbed her, pulling her in. The glass ended up leaving deep scratches on her face as she was pulled in. Now, if you say Bloody Mary three times in a row while looking into a mirror with the lights off, she will appear and try to scratch yours off in jealousy."
We tried it. I only got the name out once and I started crying. After they said it three time, the babysitter started yelling, "I see her!" Then screaming, "My face! My face! It hurts!"
I have no idea how we got out of that bathroom, but that was the most terrifying moment in my short life. The babysitter was fine and she had to keep telling me she was just kidding around to calm me down. I have no idea how my sister reacted to that either. I still can not do the Bloody Mary chant to this day and I am in my 30's. I can't even look at a mirror in the dark yet. But, I do so enjoy scaring the crap out of my older sister. It's much more fun spending my life getting revenge.
Well, that is how I learned about Bloody Mary and became traumatized for life. Ha ha. I don't think I'm going to get any sleep tonight.
As a little child, I went everywhere my older sister went. At about the time I was 4 or 5 years old we had lived on a farm in the middle of nowhere with a couple of neighbors about a half mile away in each direction. The one to the south of us were friends, but the one north of us was another farm and I didn't know them. My sister and I always rode our bikes up and down the road, never any farther than either place. One day, as I was hopping on my bike to follow my sister yet again, she stops me and tells me that Bloody Mary lives in that house up the road.
What? Who's she?
"She is a girl that is covered in blood and will scratch your face off if she catches you."
W-what?!
"You better not go near that house or she will get you!"
MOOOMMYYYY!
I never did follow her on my bike again in that direction. I would even lay on the floor of the car trying to hide from Bloody Mary as we'd pass that house when we went into town. Eventually, I'd work up the nerve to peek out the window to see if I could catch a glimpse of her.
A few years later, we were living in town. One night when my parents were out, the babysitter brought up Bloody Mary.
Hmmm? We used to live down the road from her.
"Really? Do you know the story about her?"
Y-yeah and she'll scratch your face off if you get caught by her.
"Heehee. Wanna hear the whole story?"
N-no.
"I'll tell you anyways, but I'll tell you in the bathroom."
Everybody shuffled into the bathroom and the babysitter shuts the door. I didn't go in at first because I didn't want to hear the story. Then I got more scared about being left alone and made them let me in. BIG mistake.
"Well, It's about a girl named Mary that was a very beautiful. One night, as she was looking into her mirror, she begged to stay beautiful forever. Just then a demon appeared in it, reached through the glass and grabbed her, pulling her in. The glass ended up leaving deep scratches on her face as she was pulled in. Now, if you say Bloody Mary three times in a row while looking into a mirror with the lights off, she will appear and try to scratch yours off in jealousy."
We tried it. I only got the name out once and I started crying. After they said it three time, the babysitter started yelling, "I see her!" Then screaming, "My face! My face! It hurts!"
I have no idea how we got out of that bathroom, but that was the most terrifying moment in my short life. The babysitter was fine and she had to keep telling me she was just kidding around to calm me down. I have no idea how my sister reacted to that either. I still can not do the Bloody Mary chant to this day and I am in my 30's. I can't even look at a mirror in the dark yet. But, I do so enjoy scaring the crap out of my older sister. It's much more fun spending my life getting revenge.
Well, that is how I learned about Bloody Mary and became traumatized for life. Ha ha. I don't think I'm going to get any sleep tonight.
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