The Ellicott City Ghost Tour
This weekend, we wanted to do something special for Halloween. Our first thought was to go see Saw 2, but our friend Potter would be over, and he is averse to scary movies. And so, on a whim, Bobby called the Ellicott City tourism office to see if they had any spots left on their ghost tours. I was certain that they wouldn't; after all, it is Halloween weekend, and they keep the tour groups pretty small. I figured that, in absence of a proper reservation, we could always go on one of those stupid haunted hayrides.
Lo, the tourism office called back: They had a spot for us.
Historic Ellicott City is without a doubt one of the coolest places in Maryland. Yes, I live here and so I am probably biased, but in my defense, I have only lived here for a year and had never been to visit the historic district prior to moving into town. And so I had no idea that I'd moved to one of the coolest towns in Maryland until I was already there.
Walking in the streets of Ellicott City, if you imagine the cars disappeared, the overhead lines erased, and the tourism signs gone, it is easy to believe that you are walking the streets of a Civil War town. Or even earlier. Ellicott City was founded in the 1770s and has changed little since then. Main Street has been paved, the buildings have been wired for telephone and electricity, and new marquees advertise for the current residents. But the side streets are still cobblestoned and, high above your head, the signs advertising banks and department stores long-departed still hang.
(One day, I will take my digital camera into town and do a picture post of my beautiful town.)
Ellicott City developed when two brothers from Pennsylvania moved south to start a flour mill. A railroad was built and the first federally funded highway established, making Ellicott City an important place in the Civil War. Being in central Maryland, on the line between the north and the south, towns and families were often divided in their allegiance but Ellicott City was unequivocally northern: with its access to the railroad and the highway, it was an important Union post.
A Union camp was built where the parking lot for the Circuit Court now sits. (My husband and I were married at this courthouse, almost a year ago.) The Forget Me Not Factory--a whimsical three-story shop selling everything from stuffed unicorns (Nelyo has several identical brothers there) to Renn Faire costumes to elaborate holiday decorations--was first used to imprison and interrogate Confederate soldiers. The building next door was used as a barracks. The town is steeped in history--and tragedy.
Ellicott City sits on the banks of the Patapsco River and is built literally on top of the Tiber Creek. Walking down Main Street, sheer rock walls and steep hills twined by narrow roads rise at either side of you. And so, when the rare hurricane comes of the Chesapeake Bay, the town is prone to flooding. Past storms have seen waters rise to the second floor of some of the buildings; as recent as Hurricane Agnes in the '70s, lives and livelihoods were lost in these storms.
As such, it is the most haunted location on the eastern shore of the United States. Places where my husband and I visit and dine regularly have chilling histories...and hauntings to go with them.
Last night was a cold night, the first night, really, in central Maryland where we have been able to feel the imminent winter. After having dinner at my favorite restaurant in Ellicott City, a mexican place called La Palapa, we headed to the tourism office, located in the basement of the old post office, and got ready for our tour.
And so we made our way through the city, through the cobblestoned streets and through dark alleys--guided only by the flashlight of our guide--as she told us the tales of hauntings reported in the various shops and eateries of Ellicott City and the theories as to their origins.
Without a doubt, we all agreed, the most creepy was centered around The Tiber River Tavern, one of Ellicott City's most prominent restaurants. There, poltergeist activity has been reported to the degree that employees are told to use the buddy system when they have to go about their duties in some of the lesser-traveled areas of the restaurant. When the building was purchased for the Tavern, before it was open, an incident occured where the owners reported to work one morning to find a set of tiny bare footprints crossing their newly varnished floor. The size of the feet matched no one who'd had access to the restaurant the night before. Shortly after opening, the head cook reported seeing a dark-haired woman in a white dress standing inside the dining room. The restaurant was not open yet, and he was the only one in the building. When he called out to her and moved in her direction, she turned to flee and disappeared.
But neither of these things--both of which can be dismissed as pranks or tricks of the eye--are what caused the buddy system to be instituted. One night, after close, the owner locked all of the second floor dining rooms and gathered with his employees in the front room to finish closing for the night. Suddenly, from one of the upstairs rooms, came a loud crash. The owner ran upstairs, unlocked the room, and found a table completely overturned. Rather than the settings being shattered across the floor, they remained perfectly in place, beneath the overturned table.
Other shop owners have had employees so frightened by the hauntings that take place in their establishments that they have hired spiritual cleansers. At the Tiber River Tavern, employees are expected to use the buddy system and, our tour guide told us, even the owner will not count money alone in the office.
When the ghost tours began, historians came to do research into the haunted sites of town. They found that a girl had been raped and murdered in the upper story of the Tiber River Tavern, in the room where the table was overturned.
At the Forget Me Not Factory, another creepy experience occured. This building is the tallest in town--five soaring stories high--although the owners only use the first three floors. The top floors are reserved for storage and have never even been fully wired for electricity.
As the tale goes, the owners had a friend with a strong spiritual interest visiting, and knowing the shop's history as a prison for Confederate soldiers, they took her on a tour of the building, including the little-used upper floors. While walking upstairs, she suddenly stopped, and her hand flew to her throat. "Someone was murdered here for something of value worn at his neck," she blurted out. The owners, though, didn't think much of it.
Because of the building's history as a haunted site, a team of paranormal researchers requested permission to do research in the building. While exploring the upper floors, their gadgets began to go wild at the spot where the owners' friend had had her experience. Even odder, though: The gold cross worn by one of the researchers broke and fell to the floor.
Legend goes that a body is actually buried behind the brickwork in the upper floors of the Forget Me Not Factory, a legend the owners are none-too-eager to confirm.
As an agnotic and a skeptic, of course, I cannot say for certain that these "hauntings" are, in fact, spiritual presences. Perhaps there is a logical explanation. Perhaps there is some form of spiritual energy that lingers and manifests as "hauntings." As an agnostic, I think it just as unacceptable to declare these people's experiences as false. I have no proof that ghosts do not exist; I have no way to explain the experiences reported consistently without reason by so many.
Unlike many of my own persuasion, though, who lean towards atheism and outright disbelief, I believe that research into these phenomena is warranted and should not be discouraged. Nor am I willing to dismiss the fact that there might be something behind these reports. The history of my own hometown provides interesting evidence.
I had my own "experience," once, when I was a pre-teen. I was talking to my sister in my room, facing the door, when I saw a woman in white flit past.
To avoid alarming my younger sister, I said nothing. But later, I mentioned it to my mom, who told me that both she and my dad had been seeing "The Lady" for years, since the house had been built.
Did I actually see something? Was it a trick of the light or my eyes? I don't know. I do know that I had glimpses of "The Lady" several other times before moving here. As far as explanations, I can confirm or dismiss nothing.
Lo, the tourism office called back: They had a spot for us.
Historic Ellicott City is without a doubt one of the coolest places in Maryland. Yes, I live here and so I am probably biased, but in my defense, I have only lived here for a year and had never been to visit the historic district prior to moving into town. And so I had no idea that I'd moved to one of the coolest towns in Maryland until I was already there.
Walking in the streets of Ellicott City, if you imagine the cars disappeared, the overhead lines erased, and the tourism signs gone, it is easy to believe that you are walking the streets of a Civil War town. Or even earlier. Ellicott City was founded in the 1770s and has changed little since then. Main Street has been paved, the buildings have been wired for telephone and electricity, and new marquees advertise for the current residents. But the side streets are still cobblestoned and, high above your head, the signs advertising banks and department stores long-departed still hang.
(One day, I will take my digital camera into town and do a picture post of my beautiful town.)
Ellicott City developed when two brothers from Pennsylvania moved south to start a flour mill. A railroad was built and the first federally funded highway established, making Ellicott City an important place in the Civil War. Being in central Maryland, on the line between the north and the south, towns and families were often divided in their allegiance but Ellicott City was unequivocally northern: with its access to the railroad and the highway, it was an important Union post.
A Union camp was built where the parking lot for the Circuit Court now sits. (My husband and I were married at this courthouse, almost a year ago.) The Forget Me Not Factory--a whimsical three-story shop selling everything from stuffed unicorns (Nelyo has several identical brothers there) to Renn Faire costumes to elaborate holiday decorations--was first used to imprison and interrogate Confederate soldiers. The building next door was used as a barracks. The town is steeped in history--and tragedy.
Ellicott City sits on the banks of the Patapsco River and is built literally on top of the Tiber Creek. Walking down Main Street, sheer rock walls and steep hills twined by narrow roads rise at either side of you. And so, when the rare hurricane comes of the Chesapeake Bay, the town is prone to flooding. Past storms have seen waters rise to the second floor of some of the buildings; as recent as Hurricane Agnes in the '70s, lives and livelihoods were lost in these storms.
As such, it is the most haunted location on the eastern shore of the United States. Places where my husband and I visit and dine regularly have chilling histories...and hauntings to go with them.
Last night was a cold night, the first night, really, in central Maryland where we have been able to feel the imminent winter. After having dinner at my favorite restaurant in Ellicott City, a mexican place called La Palapa, we headed to the tourism office, located in the basement of the old post office, and got ready for our tour.
And so we made our way through the city, through the cobblestoned streets and through dark alleys--guided only by the flashlight of our guide--as she told us the tales of hauntings reported in the various shops and eateries of Ellicott City and the theories as to their origins.
Without a doubt, we all agreed, the most creepy was centered around The Tiber River Tavern, one of Ellicott City's most prominent restaurants. There, poltergeist activity has been reported to the degree that employees are told to use the buddy system when they have to go about their duties in some of the lesser-traveled areas of the restaurant. When the building was purchased for the Tavern, before it was open, an incident occured where the owners reported to work one morning to find a set of tiny bare footprints crossing their newly varnished floor. The size of the feet matched no one who'd had access to the restaurant the night before. Shortly after opening, the head cook reported seeing a dark-haired woman in a white dress standing inside the dining room. The restaurant was not open yet, and he was the only one in the building. When he called out to her and moved in her direction, she turned to flee and disappeared.
But neither of these things--both of which can be dismissed as pranks or tricks of the eye--are what caused the buddy system to be instituted. One night, after close, the owner locked all of the second floor dining rooms and gathered with his employees in the front room to finish closing for the night. Suddenly, from one of the upstairs rooms, came a loud crash. The owner ran upstairs, unlocked the room, and found a table completely overturned. Rather than the settings being shattered across the floor, they remained perfectly in place, beneath the overturned table.
Other shop owners have had employees so frightened by the hauntings that take place in their establishments that they have hired spiritual cleansers. At the Tiber River Tavern, employees are expected to use the buddy system and, our tour guide told us, even the owner will not count money alone in the office.
When the ghost tours began, historians came to do research into the haunted sites of town. They found that a girl had been raped and murdered in the upper story of the Tiber River Tavern, in the room where the table was overturned.
At the Forget Me Not Factory, another creepy experience occured. This building is the tallest in town--five soaring stories high--although the owners only use the first three floors. The top floors are reserved for storage and have never even been fully wired for electricity.
As the tale goes, the owners had a friend with a strong spiritual interest visiting, and knowing the shop's history as a prison for Confederate soldiers, they took her on a tour of the building, including the little-used upper floors. While walking upstairs, she suddenly stopped, and her hand flew to her throat. "Someone was murdered here for something of value worn at his neck," she blurted out. The owners, though, didn't think much of it.
Because of the building's history as a haunted site, a team of paranormal researchers requested permission to do research in the building. While exploring the upper floors, their gadgets began to go wild at the spot where the owners' friend had had her experience. Even odder, though: The gold cross worn by one of the researchers broke and fell to the floor.
Legend goes that a body is actually buried behind the brickwork in the upper floors of the Forget Me Not Factory, a legend the owners are none-too-eager to confirm.
As an agnotic and a skeptic, of course, I cannot say for certain that these "hauntings" are, in fact, spiritual presences. Perhaps there is a logical explanation. Perhaps there is some form of spiritual energy that lingers and manifests as "hauntings." As an agnostic, I think it just as unacceptable to declare these people's experiences as false. I have no proof that ghosts do not exist; I have no way to explain the experiences reported consistently without reason by so many.
Unlike many of my own persuasion, though, who lean towards atheism and outright disbelief, I believe that research into these phenomena is warranted and should not be discouraged. Nor am I willing to dismiss the fact that there might be something behind these reports. The history of my own hometown provides interesting evidence.
I had my own "experience," once, when I was a pre-teen. I was talking to my sister in my room, facing the door, when I saw a woman in white flit past.
To avoid alarming my younger sister, I said nothing. But later, I mentioned it to my mom, who told me that both she and my dad had been seeing "The Lady" for years, since the house had been built.
Did I actually see something? Was it a trick of the light or my eyes? I don't know. I do know that I had glimpses of "The Lady" several other times before moving here. As far as explanations, I can confirm or dismiss nothing.