GHOST TALES - The Shadows of Winchester and Frederick County, VA

02/10/2024

What a crazy four years! Eleven books and counting...which ones are you missing?

Come to Solenberger's Hardware on Saturday, February 17th from 9am-4m and allow me to thank you in person and pick up the title missing from your library!

01/20/2024

I put this together about a year ago and I watch it occasionally to remind me how precious time really is. The people will always be the heart & soul of a small town. Please watch this video with the sound on…and let me try and show you why history is so important to me….so many people…so many lives…they are us.

https://www.facebook.com/share/v/7UxLmr6YuxAWiqFn/?mibextid=wILeQC

10/31/2023

10/14/2023

Ghostly October is here and the Ghost Tales of Wi******er and Frederick County may get you in the spirit…get it, spirit…👻🎃

06/30/2023

I started a new page! This page will have incredible and fascinating tales of old Virginia. Please hit the follow button, so you receive notification on all new content! I just posted a really cool story.

https://www.facebook.com/100057264977086/posts/759579462627546/?mibextid=DcJ9fc

10/13/2022

THE FRONT ROOM
The Magill House
418 North Loudoun Street
The first-floor apartment at 418 North Loudoun Street always had a depressing feeling. Not necessarily evil, but an overwhelming foreboding that seemed to be more sadness than anything. The man who lived in this apartment in 2017 could never sleep…he heard voices and felt that someone was always watching him. On one particular day, he woke up to the sound of men’s voices on the front porch. He thought they may be workmen but heard women talking to the men and asking if they needed food or blankets. He sat in bed and listened to what seemed to be hundreds of people walking down Loudoun Street. He also heard the sounds of creaking wagons. He thought it must be a historical event at Fort Loudoun, which was across the street. He got up and went to the kitchen window and looked out. Nothing. He also noticed that the door to his apartment was wide open. The man would witness many unexplained things in this apartment. He would eventually suffer a mental breakdown here.

As Reverend John Broadus approached Mrs. Magill’s house, he was overwhelmed by the number of soldiers coming down Loudoun Street. Many bandaged men were sitting on the porch. It was July 8, 1863, and streams of wounded confederates were returning from the killing fields of Gettysburg. Reverend Broadus walked up to the porch and saw Mrs. Anne Magill and her 20-year-old daughter Mary, handing out slices of buttered bread to the men. Reverend Broadus was recruited by Mrs. Magill and was tasked with making more coffee. At one point, Mrs. Magill reached into her apron and handed money to Mary and told her to fetch more bread from the bakery. One woman started to call out..."who needs a blanket?"

Mrs. Anne Magill, Mary, Reverend Broadus and the others worked feverishly into the late afternoon and only quit when all of the provisions ran out. Even then, soldiers were still streaming down Loudoun Street in an endless line of despair. Some of the critically wounded officers were brought into the front parlor room. Some would pass here. This was the same room where Anne Magill had entertained such notables as General Stonewall Jackson, Jubal Early, Turner Ashby, and Joseph Johnston, earlier in the war. Now, the home was a place of sorrow and death.

Young Mary Tucker Magill was such an outspoken confederate sympathizer that she was arrested in 1864 and forced to go south. She would stay with relatives in Staunton. Anne Magill would sell the home in the fall of 1864 to George Keller. One night, Mr. Keller closed his hardware store at 116 North Loudoun Street and started walking home. A man had followed with the intent of robbing Mr. Keller. The man accosted Keller right around Cecil Street and a shot rang out…Mr. Keller had been fatally shot and he stumbled back to 418 North Loudoun Street….where he died in the front room…

10/13/2022

THE STOCKING WEAVER
The Godfrey Miller House – Circa 1773
424 South Loudoun St.
October of 1992
She awoke in the upstairs bedroom to the sound of two men talking very loudly in the room below. Her boyfriend was asleep beside her as she nudged him gently. His eyes slowly opened as she whispered…”people are in the house”. As he sat up and listened carefully, he noticed that the voices were speaking German….one frantic voice kept repeating the word... “Medizin!…Medizin!”. As the couple crept downstairs…the voices faded away. This was not the first encounter that the renters at 424 South Loudoun Street would have…nor would it be the last. Often, children’s laughter could be heard coming from the old attic.

Four young men rented the house at 424 S. Loudoun Street in 1992 and really didn’t know the history of the house. Once they moved in, they started to experience odd noises and apparitions. Once a man in colonial dress was seen in a doorway…the spirit turned and faded away. The last encounter worth mentioning was in the center room which had a large cooking fireplace. The owner of the home said that the fireplace was not in working condition and that the chimney was sealed at the top. One night, the men returned home to the smell of a burning fire. When they looked in the fireplace, it looked as if it had been used, but that was impossible as the home would have filled with smoke.

Godfrey Miller I came to America from Germany in around 1764...and was in Wi******er by 1766. Miller and his wife Anna lived in and ran a weaving business out of a small log house which was located two lots north of 424 South Loudoun St. (see the picture below). He built his larger home at the corner of Loudoun and East Leicester Street in around 1773...using old timbers from George Washington's dilapidated Fort Loudoun. By 1770, the old French & Indian War fort had fallen into such disrepair that the owner started selling off the large hewn logs to the highest bidder. Godfrey Miller I and his wife Anna would raise nine children at 424 South Loudoun. The original entrance was through the small extension located along Leicester Street. A front door would be added to the Loudoun Street side in the late 19th century. At one time, Godfrey Miller’s original 1764 weaving loom sat in the front room of this house. The loom now resides in the Textile Museum in Germantown, PA. Miller also dabbled in medicine and ran his apothecary business out of this house as well. This may be the reason why the young couple heard “Medizine..Medizine”…on that dark night in 1992. The voice of a frantic German man....maybe looking for medicine for an ailing wife or child.

Godfrey Miller I died in 1803 and the family home would pass to his son Godfrey Miller II. Another son of Godfrey Miller I was Peter Miller…and Peter would build an addition in around 1815 (this is the green section in the picture below). Peter Miller ran a dry goods store at this location. In 1806, the brothers would take their father’s apothecary business and move it to 107 N. Loudoun St. (the present site of V2 - Village Square Restaurant). This drugstore would be credited as being the longest running drugstore in the United States….as it ran from 1764 – 1990.

10/12/2022

FAGAN’S CORNER
Corner of Loudoun and Cork Street
Wi******er, VA
April 28, 2017
The couple had just celebrated their one-year anniversary by having dinner at the Cork Street Tavern. The night sky was clear, and the smell of boxwoods hung in the air. The couple had parked near the old 1780s log home of Simon Lauck on Loudoun Street. As they walked arm in arm, a brisk breeze picked up when they reached the Red Lion Tavern. As they turned south onto Loudoun Street, they saw a horse standing just north of Clifford Street…it was dark, but it looked like a rider mounted the horse and rode quickly west on Clifford Street. Surprised and in complete disbelief…the couple tried to make sense of what they just witnessed…why would there be a man on a horse on a downtown street at night?

From a second story window, a small boy named Jones heard the distinct sound of Federal cavalry storming down Loudoun Street...past a place called Fagan’s Corner (near the Red Lion Tavern). This was a volatile time in Wi******er as the town was changing hands daily during that spring of 1864. The young boy was staying with relatives near the old Red Lion Tavern. His family’s home was in the county, near Pughtown (present day Gainesboro). As he looked out of the window, another party of Union cavalry rode by. Then he heard the slow clickety-clack of a lone horseman. This cavalryman was sick and had fallen behind. The young boy grabbed a hidden pistol and went out into the street. He hid behind a post and waited for the cavalryman to pass by. As the soldier stopped around Clifford Street, the boy stepped out and demanded his surrender. The soldier refused. The boy fired two shots at the mounted trooper. The first shot missed…but the second shot hit the man in the abdomen. He fell from his horse. The young boy took the soldier’s rifle, mounted the horse and galloped west along Clifford Street to the Pughtown Road (522 North).

When the next Federal scouting party found the wounded soldier, they demanded that the boy and his father be arrested immediately. The cavalry unit rode out to the Jones home, but the boy and father had escaped into the woods. The soldiers were about to burn the house down when Mrs. Jones dropped to her knees and begged them not to. Her cries worked as the men mounted their horses and left. The boy would never be arrested, and the soldier would survive his wound. Yet, in retaliation for this act, Mr. Burwell, Mr. Schultz, and Reverend Eggleston were arrested and held while the Federals transported their wounded to Martinsburg. The Wi******er men imprisoned were paroled about a month later. Local Unionist, Julia Chase, would write in her diary “We think if true justice had been done…the boy’s father should have been hunted up, and if not found, their house burned to the ground.”

There have been other sightings and experiences at Fagan’s Corner …a woman is seen stoking a fire in the front parlor of the Red Lion…also, party noise is heard from the upstairs apartment where the tavern used to hold dances in the early 1800s.

What did that couple see on that night in 2017?

Maybe it was young Master Jones…making his Civil War escape from Fagan’s Corner….

10/11/2022

THE GHOST OF REVEREND EICHELBERGER
The George Washington Hotel – Wi******er, VA
September 16, 1963
The rain was heavy as flashes of lightning illuminated the Wi******er skyline. Low and undulating thunder immediately followed. Nick Brill was working at the front desk of the George Washington Hotel that evening as two guests came running in from the pouring rain. “May I help you?” Nick asked. The couple needed a room for the night and requested an upper floor. The couple signed the register and were handed the keys to room 224. The bell hop was called, and he escorted the couple to the elevator, and up to their room. As they exited the elevator, they were met with a bright flash of lightning which illuminated the long dark hallway. The light fixtures along the walls, flickered in response. As the bell hop unlocked the door, he told the couple that they were the only guests in the hotel that night, so it should be a very quiet evening. As the bell hop walked back to the elevator…he caught a glimpse of a figure at the end of the hallway. As the lightning flashed, it was gone. Thinking it was just a car’s headlights casting shadows from Piccadilly Street, he entered the elevator.

A little more than a century before, on the night of September 16, 1859, Mrs. Eichelberger was putting another blanket over her ailing husband. Doctor Love had stayed late as it had been raining and the storm had become more intense. Reverend Lewis Eichelberger, pastor of the Lutheran Church in Wi******er, was on his death bed. A feeling of dread had come over the big limestone home that once stood at the southeast corner of Cameron and Piccadilly Streets. Reverend Eichelberger was fading away…around midnight, the good reverend was released from his earthly bonds. The Eichelberger home was torn down in 1923, to make way for a new hotel…called the George Washington.

On this night in 1963, the couple unpacked their suitcases and prepared for bed. Just then, the man heard someone coughing loudly in the hallway. He looked out the peep hole. As his eye was an inch from the door, he saw a dark figure flash by. He opened the door quickly, thinking it may be the bell hop. He could see an old man at the far end of the hallway. The old man turned with dark sunken eyes and a distressed look and melded into a doorway and was gone.

When the couple awoke the next morning and inquired about the man in the hallway, the morning clerk assured them that they were no other guests in the hotel. The clerk asked if the man they saw had dark sunken eyes and was seen near room 208? The man and the woman nodded, yes. “Oh, you saw Reverend Eichelberger” the clerk nonchalantly exclaimed. Reverend Eichelberger lived in a house that stood where we are standing now…and he died here in 1859. Sometimes we catch glimpses…some guests see him walking the halls…and recently, some of our staff saw the ballroom doors open and close with no one around. He is our permanent guest!”

So, if you find yourself staying near room 208 at the corner of Cameron and Piccadilly streets…and the rain is falling, and the lightning is flashing along darkened halls…look for old Reverend Eichelberger. He may be trying to find the old bedroom of his former home…trapped for eternity, within the halls of the George Washington Hotel.

10/05/2022

THE FOG OF WAR
Rose Hill Park
June 18, 2017
He stood on the stone wall and started to wave the Stars & Bars furiously as if the approaching Ohioans could see him through the dense smoke. The wall was a long winding, impenetrable snake, that offered some protection for the rebels. Union artillery was screaming overhead from Pritchard’s Hill...exploding above the canopy in the distant wood line. Colonel Samuel Fulkerson’s Virginians had left Pritchard’s Hill, crossed Middle Road - and took up defensive positions behind the Glass family home, called Rose Hill. The 37th, 23rd and the 4th Virginia crouched behind the stone wall, peered through the openings, and awaited the Union advance.

Colonel Fulkerson turned his white horse and saw a single column - five brigades deep - advancing from the distant wood line. The blue wave rushed through the open field - toward the rebel position. It would be carnage at the wall…men would rush only to be mowed down with each rebel volley. One confederate recounted that he wouldn’t forget the slap and thud of union bullets as they hit the large stones in the wall. The battle would last ten hours…until the confederates, out of ammunition, retired their position at the wall. General Garnett had made the call….”retreat, retreat.” Hundreds of bodies, both blue and gray, were slumped together over the stone wall - on that bloody day in March of 1862.

She parked her car in the gravel parking lot at Rose Hill Park just as she did every morning before work. As usual, she was the only one there as the park opens at 8am and she had about thirty minutes to walk the 1.3-mile loop before heading to work. This had become a routine and sometimes she would bring her yellow lab, Jack. On this particular morning, the fog was thick, yet the sun had already climbed above Sandy Ridge to the southeast. She let Jack out of the car and walked to the stone wall on the rise, and Jack began to bark at some unseen rabbit or fox in the distant tree line. The fog was thick in the low areas, and it was completely silent. She felt uneasy…the air seemed to be stagnated, absent of the breeze which was present only moments before. Then in the distance, to the right of the pathway, she could make out men slowly moving towards the wall. No sound, just semi-transparent figures, growing in number. She was certain they were soldiers…one man was carrying a flag, not waving it, but running with the long pole at his side. As the ghostly soldiers crossed the path in the distance, they faded away.

It seemed like minutes, but it was only seconds. Jack was at full attention and started to bark. They returned to the car right away. Although she is certain of what she saw…she felt it was like a movie, or a recording….where she and Jack were only spectators. She never knew what happened at Rose Hill…she never cared really. She has now read everything on the battle of First Kernstown and she now knows what happened...along the old stone wall.

10/04/2022

MURDER ON
FROGTOWN ROAD
Clarke County, VA
July 13, 1936
It was cold on that particular November night in 1978 when an old rusty pickup truck meandered along the old Frogtown Road near Bluemont. The orange glow from the radio illuminated the cab as the wipers slapped in unison as the rain intensified. Then he saw her…walking down the country road in the pouring rain near the old Mountain Baptist Church. She seemed injured as she staggered along the dark road, her left arm dangled at her side. It was late at night and the driver turned around to see if she needed help. An accident? Maybe she was running from an abusive husband or boyfriend, he thought…but when he stopped…she was gone.

Forty-two years before, on a rainy night, May Smallwood checked on her 87-year-old bed ridden mother. Then she checked on her sons. The old farmhouse stood in the woods directly behind the Mountain Baptist Church on the Frogtown Road near Bluemont. Her two sons, 23-year-old Elbert Smallwood, and 17-year-old Alfred, were asleep in the upstairs bedroom. Sometime, late into the night, May retrieved a shotgun that was kept in the kitchen closet, and loaded both barrels. She walked up to her son’s room and aimed the gun directly at Elbert’s head and fired, killing him instantly. She loaded quickly as Alfred sat up in bed, she fired once, hitting him in the chest…she fired again, he was dead. May loaded the gun and walked downstairs and fired one barrel at her mother, killing her instantly. May then poured kerosene on the beds and lit them. She walked to the kitchen, put the shotgun under her armpit…and fired. As she staggered into her mother’s room, her left arm dangling at her side…she fell onto the bed and died.

At 6:30am, Joe Elsea came to check on his bedridden mother and sister and found the gruesome scene. The bed fires had gone out as soon as they were lit and didn’t destroy the house. No one knows why May Smallwood snapped and murdered her family. The night of the murders, a neighbor, Luther Thompson, visited the house and May Smallwood asked him if he would like to stay over….he luckily declined.

So, if you’re ever riding along the old Frogtown Road at night…and the rain and mist begins to fall…be on the lookout for May Smallwood…who still roams these woods near Bluemont.