The Nantucket Haunted Hike Presents: Haunted Nantucket Island Twenty-Two True Nantucket Ghost Stories: Twenty-Two True Nantucket Ghost Stories

By WB Alexander

The Nantucket Haunted Hike Presents: Haunted Nantucket Island is the culmination of two years of interviews and research as made by author WB Alexander in the field of Nantucket ghost stories. All twenty two you will find in this book are true and told by those who witnessed the occurrances.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Apr 13, 2005
• ISBN: 9781462804092

WB Alexander

Author WB Alexander is a Nantucket Native and creator of and performer for the Nantucket ghost tour, The Nantucket Haunted Hike. Having experienced his first paranormal experience at the age of eight, it inspired Will to seek out other ghost stories on the island and record them. In 1996, Will extended his paranormal knowledge by going on his first ghost hunt in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania where he recorded a frightening disturbance in a local and well-known hotel. Since that date, Will has performed investigations of his own in New Orleans, Lousiana and Nantucket, Massachusetts. His investigations on Nantucket and his searching out of ghostly phenomona as well as his love for theater culminated in the tour, The Nantucket Haunted Hike, which began in 2003. Since then it has become the most popular and entertaining walking tour on the island. Still living on Nantucket, his search for new ghost stories is never-ending. People are encouraged to try to contact Will with any Nantucket stories they may have. If they are exciting enough, a sequel to this novel is in the works. New Orleans, Lousiana and Nantucket, Massachusetts. His investigations on Nantucket and his searching out of ghostly phenomona as well as his love for theater culminated in the tour, The Nantucket Haunted Hike, which began in 2003. Since then it has become the most popular and entertaining walking tour on the island. Still living on Nantucket, his search for new ghost stories is never-ending. People are encouraged to try to contact Will with any Nantucket stories they may have. If they are exciting enough, a sequel to this novel is in the works. For information on The Nantucket Haunted Hike “Not The Original, But Certainly The Best!” Please call 1-508-292-0164 or email us at [e-mail] Please feel free to check out our websight at www.thenantuckethauntedhike.com Illustration by Caleb Cardell

Book preview

Copyright © 2005 by WB Alexander.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

The use of any of the stories herein by any tour, in spoken or written form, without written permission from both the homeowner and The Nantucket Haunted Hike will be subject to United States copyright and plagiarism laws and will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law. Please consult with the author and homeowner before using any stories from this book in any other publication or on any tour.

This book was printed in the United States of America.

To order additional copies of this book, contact:

Xlibris Corporation

1-888-795-4274

www.Xlibris.com

[e-mail]

28103

Contents

Prologue

Crying

The Four Chimneys Inn

One Room

A Hidden Staircase

The Master Mariner

A Foul Smell

The Sad Story of Owen Chase

Holding My Hand

Cioppino’s Restaurant

Doctor Margaret Kilcoyne

Cap’n Tobey’s Restaurant

La Ruche Inn

The Protective Father and The Caregiver

A Sleeping Form

Raftus

The Ghosts of Georges Bank

Schooners Restaurant

Two Demonic Forms

The Old Hospital

Missing His Family

Devotion From Beyond

Mercy

Epilogue

To Courtney and Kellyn:

My monkeys! You two that make

my summers worthwhile and whom

I know will enjoy this book most.

It’s no real secret that this book made the rounds of a few publishers before finally ending here and putting this out through the wonderful people at Xlibris. Though I thank the publishers to no end, I believe that special thanks should go to both Greg Haigh and Monina Amplayo above all. Without their work and attention, these pages might have stayed dusty sheets of paper on a shelf somewhere.

I also wish to thank my editing crew, consisting of Christian Ray and his wife Stephanie and Christian’s brother Ben. Without them, this work would also have more minutia than would be truly necessary. Their hard work over the time I placed the manuscript in their hands and their fast turnaround back to me was truly a lifesaver.

I can also thank everyone that was willing to speak to me about their experiences, especially those that wanted to remain anonymous rather than risk points and jibes. Your sacrifices for the book are more than appreciated, and are the very backbone of my work here.

But most of all I have to thank my benefactor Janet Duane for her help as well. If nothing else, I would never be able to have anybody read this book, let alone see it published. Her help and investment in an artist and writer’s first book is highly praised.

Thank you to all, whether I was able to name you or not. You all know who you are and you all know that I am grateful beyond belief.

Prologue

There are times during my tour on Nantucket Island, called The Nantucket Haunted Hike that I wonder about how many of these places I walk past on a daily basis have some spiritual goings-on inside of them yet to be heard about. I know that there are far more than the eighteen or so places I show a night on this island Mecca that is the town of my birth. Some have been already documented by Blue Balliett in her two books The Ghosts of Nantucket and Nantucket Hauntings. A good friend of mine, Mark Jasper mentions a few Nantucket ghost stories into his novel Haunted Cape Cod And Islands but there are still many more stories yet to be told.

You see, if it wasn’t for Blue and Mark’s work on those three books, I am certain that my tour would never have gotten off the ground. Blue and Mark opened up people’s eyes to the fact that the paranormal does exist on Nantucket. Even realizing this, there seems to be a stigma attached to the subject of having a haunted house, even though there should be none. A haunting or having a ghost in your house is nothing to be ashamed of. I suppose that being Nantucket, a place of opulent summer living and multi-million dollar trophy homes, those who have purchased these dwellings simply want to put the thoughts out of their heads when it comes to their unseen visitor or visitors. As it is, they don’t spend enough time in their homes and therefore have not gotten to know the spiritual life of the house that remains long after they have left the island for their winter hiatus. Interestingly enough, it has made things difficult when trying to compile a book of this nature.

In the winter months, I was hired to work for The New Orleans Ghost Tour down in Louisiana. I have found that the people of New Orleans are far more open about their ghost experiences than the people of Nantucket ever will be. The stories down there are more sinister, but everyone in town already knows them. You will never find that on a little island 30 miles out to sea in Massachusetts.

On Nantucket, people have listened to stories told by grandparents and resided in the belief that those things are simply thoughts that are rarely spoken about and kept secret like some sort of family curse. In New Orleans, it seems to have become part of the culture there and they have a need to keep that part of their society alive. I had found that by asking about the few New Orleans stories I had learned, it engaged the richness of the storytelling that makes up my life. I also found it was far easier to get the stories from people down in The Big Easy than it was on Nantucket. The stigma up in the north never transposed itself down south.

It should come as no surprise that people ask me on my tours why Nantucket or New Orleans are more haunted than other places on the planet. New Orleans has been referred to as the most haunted city in America, Nantucket also has it’s fair share of stories. In fact, at one point, another ghost tour called Nantucket the most haunted town in America, something that the City of New Orleans had qualms about.

Still, people ask me why one location is more haunted than another. My answer is always this: It is no more haunted here than in your own hometown. In my opinion, every place has just as many ghosts per house capita as any place that claims to be incredibly haunted. It all comes down to that stigma I had mentioned earlier. In the two cities I show haunted houses in, one has ghosts as part of it’s culture, the other has a lot of tragedy associated with it (ie. deaths at sea) and so people hear of the hauntings and are told stories of souls that cannot rest. Perhaps in your hometown it’s a different story.

In your hometown people don’t talk about the shadow lurking behind the grandfather clock in the living room. No one speaks about the sound of an invisible horse trotting up Main Street. The scream in your grandmother’s attic is regarded as something you just don’t talk about. In the end, it comes down to things that go bump in the night and the sound of the house settling on it’s foundation.

No matter what the answer, what you believe and what you are comfortable discussing is all that matters. For all you know, as you’re reading this, someone may be looking over your shoulder to see what is on the page. It could be someone you can’t even see.

But when you turn around and find nobody there don’t be surprised. Ghosts are all around us as another part of history, another part of our heritage, another way to hang onto a small piece of the past. Keep in mind, they are probably just as interested in you as you are in them.

 Crying

Anonymous Location. Siasconset

To look at the house, it’s the stereotypical haunted house. The grass is high, the tin roofs on the garages are caved in, the house it’s self is as ramshackle as can be. To look into the windows (which by some unimaginable twist of fate remain unbroken) someone near-transparent might be looking back. There’s even a brick well out in the yard that has been sealed up. Through years of investigations and dealings with ghosts on Nantucket, you will rarely find a house like this that you know to be haunted.

I met with my contact (who asked to remain anonymous) right outside the house. Now, he’s not much older than me, and really being able to speak to someone my own age who believes in the things I speak and write about is a pleasure. In this case, I knew for a fact that he believed as soon as his story was told and recorded.

Now you assure me that I can remain anonymous? was the first thing that he asked me. He was a believer, but apparently his family would not understand were they to know, probably more to the history rather than the haunting. As a result, I also have to keep the location secret. I’ll just say that when you see it, you’ll know it.

After a quick little assurance to him, he began with his story.

When we were kids, this place was always in better shape. The family kept it nicely, fresh paint, new shingles when it needed them, we had always wanted to come see the cousins when they came to Nantucket because of the charm of the house. Now, I couldn’t tell you what made my cousins allow this place to fall apart like this.

We walked around to the back of the house and the brick stairway was decayed so much that two of the upper stairs were missing, having crumbled away long ago. Why such a beautiful turn of the century farmhouse could have ever fallen into such disrepair was beyond either of us. The man I was with didn’t even have a key to the place, that was in the possession of his cousins in Connecticut who had long since stopped coming to the island.

He pointed up at an upstairs window, it really had the creepiest feeling to it too, you fully expected to see a face peering out from behind the faded curtains.

That was her room, he said. It’s really a very sad story, but I’ll get into that at the end because right now it wouldn’t make a whole lot of sense.

The grass was so high it made me wonder about attracting any ticks, but it was all in the line of duty. We walked to what looked like a small field on the far side of the house.

"Back when we were kids, this was actually a nice little lawn. We would bring out a little Habachi and cook up hot dogs and hamburgers and eat the crab apples off the tree. They were bitter, but we didn’t care. The cousins would keep their car in this garage, but as you can see, the roof has all caved in and rusted, theres no way anybody would ever be able to park a car in there now.

The street was actually named after the family and the house has been on it since it was built. So when we would come over, it would be like coming into some kind of birthright just for a simple barbecue and to see some cousins we only saw once a year.

The porch was so old and weathered that we did not want to step up together for fear that our combined weight might allow it to collapse. The front door was in the same condition, but still seemed to be on it’s hinges despite the peeling paint and splintery wood.

You can’t see it here because of the drapes, but right beyond this door there’s a great stairwell that leads to a landing on the second floor. That landing is huge, a couple of small corner-style bookshelves on either wall, and a couple windows that sit behind this bench seat built right into the wall under those windows. During the day, the entire landing is awash in light, a really incredibly cheery place that was made for reading. But at night, oh man…

His demeanor changed and he seemed to appear to shiver. Even after many years, the memory of his experience in this house was still with him.

"At night the landing took on a different tone. We could never explain why it was that we were terrified of that landing, but we would sit down at the foot of the stairs, just looking up at the dark, empty top step. I’d sit there with my cousin, Matthew, looking right up there saying ‘You go up,’ and he’d say to me, ‘No, you go up.’ We would dare each other while my brother and sister and other cousins sat quietly behind us, too scared to say anything as well.

"I do remember this one time when we were there, my father and mother brought our live-in babysitter that was there for the summer. It was the typical night after the cookout and we had been inside in the living room making a lot of noise. Well, we got all quiet and Matthew and I just kinda peered up at the steps. When we did it was kind of like the rest of the kids went on cue. We all quieted down.

"I guess that was what brought my father out into the room with the babysitter. They looked at us and wondered why we got so quiet so fast and saw us mesmerized by looking at the top of the stairs.

"I mean, here we were, at the most we must have been twelve at the time and going back in age to about as low as six. We’re just peering up those stairs at the darkness, terrified by what we might see, but not having the guts to go up there and investigate. It silenced us and must have been one hell of a sight for the babysitter who knew us to be really loud, rambunctious kids, suddenly shut right up.

"In the other room, we could all hear our respected mothers and even the cousin’s father laughing like crazy in the other room while Liz and my father watched us just looking upstairs.

"I remember him asking, ‘What’s wrong?’ to us and all we did was point up the stairs. I guess that got Liz looking up there too, into the darkness of the landing. She kind of got quiet and saw just how creepy the landing was as well.

"Then, being the great guy my dad was, he grabbed her by the hand and said, ‘It’s okay up there, here I’ll show you’ or some nonsense like that. I can remember him bringing her up the stairs and how much trepidation they used climbing up there. Liz was a bit scared, but my father (who has never believed in ghosts and always told us we were idiots for believing in such a thing) walked at her pace, kind of pulling her along.

"Then he did exactly what we thought he would do. By the time they got to the top of the stairs, he let go of her and ran down the stairs leaving her up top. She let out a quick scream and followed him down. Like I said, great guy my old man.

We all laughed as she hit him and they went back into the really well-lit kitchen to drink beer or whatever they were doing.

We left the front of the house and walked over to the car. Since we couldn’t get inside because