Oct 23, 2019 By Natasha Heinz 7 min read

“If there seems to be a lot of weird stuff here, it’s because there actually is,” writer Thomas White said of Southwestern Pennsylvania.

White’s written several books about the legends, ghosts, monsters and witches in this part of the country. He explained that folklore arrived in the United States from all the ports on the East Coast and, in the 1800s, funneled into the original gateway to the west: Pittsburgh and the Ohio Valley.

There are several reasons why the stories remain in Greene, however.

First, is Pennsylvania’s historical openness to different religions, which allowed folk culture to thrive – and for witches and other magical healers to practice their beliefs. The fact that the population in the area hasn’t changed much over the years also helped.

“Western PA has a pretty stable population. Even if they leave, they often came back after years, so stories survive here longer than they do in other places sometimes,” White said. “Ghost stories are also a way to tell stories too, regardless of if you believe these places are haunted or not. It also is remembering the history, or at least perceived history, of a place.”

Greene County native Kevin Paul, a writer and paranormal investigator, describes Greene County as the most haunted county in America. In his book “Haunted Hills and Hollows: What Lurks in Greene County, Pennsylvania,” Paul wrote that the region shares many characteristics with famous hot-spots such as Gettysburg or Salem, the most important being a bloody history. Many wars were fought in – and for – this land, which create the context for stories that are now told and creatures that supposedly share this space with us.

In “Witchcraft Magic and Spirits on the Border of Pennsylvania and West Virginia,” an essay published in the Journal of American Folklore in 1938, author S. P. Bayard wrote about tales people in Greene County shared with him.

In one particular story, a man from Waynesburg told him he had a talk with the ghost of a deceased neighbor in the churchyard.

Another story is about an old man in the county who was going to his neighbor’s to take his turn at “setting up with” the body one night and encountered a man sitting on a fence in front of the house. The man suddenly fell off the fence and disappeared, without saying anything, making the storyteller believe it was the ghost of the departed.

In Rices Landing, Pumpkin Run Park is the home of the ghost to Stovepipe, White said. A man named Stovepipe Kelly, who was a coal miner or union organizer, fell off his carriage after being chased by either angry miners or the angry husband of a woman he was having an affair with. Kelly fell under the wheel, which then went over his neck, severing his head. One can still find him at the park by calling Stovepipe three times or saying “Stovepipe, Stovepipe, I have your head.” He is still there looking for his head, which he replaced with an old piece of stove pipe that he found nearby.

In Waynesburg, by the Greene County Airport, is Cry Baby Bridge, which goes over Ten Mile Creek. According to White, the original story is about a young woman who had an affair with a prominent individual, got pregnant and was sent to a mental health institution or the nearby prison. After giving birth, she was able to escape and ran to the bridge, from where she threw the baby into the creek before jumping off the bridge herself.

If one drives to the bridge on a dark night, they can see her. The steps are as follows: Put your car in park and turn on the lights, take the key out of the ignition and put it on the hood, then call out “I have your baby,” The ghost will appear down the road, where the headlights are illuminating.

Even if Greene County isn’t really haunted, it might be cursed, at least according White.

He said a Native American chief Oppaymolleah uttered a curse to Western Pennsylvania. Stuck on one side by the British and the other by the French, the chief asked a land surveyor what was left for the Native Americans with all the invasions and the man had no answer. So, Oppaymolleah uttered a curse: “The gold will be turned to iron and the iron will be turned to gold, waters will run red with blood and the blood will turn to water, the area will never know peace only vague fear.”

White explained the curse was originally recorded by folklorist George Swetnam and, depending on the interpretation, could be viewed as true. Between the French and Indian War, the American Revolution and events like the 1877 railroad strike, the water turned red.

Moreover, White points out that the wealthy steel companies take most of the money they make out of the region, which can be a nod to the gold leaving. The fear also comes from the wars, but also from a possible strike in the region during the Cold War, economic troubles that came with the collapse with the steel industry and so on.

“You could argue that the curse did come true if it in fact was actually said,” White said.

In 2008, Paul had a supernatural experience while renovating a Wayne Township home built around 1802.

“As we worked on the structure that summer, several people began experiencing unusual but identical events,” he wrote in an email. “The sound of footsteps when no one else was in the house, noticing out of place odors (perfume, bread baking, tobacco smoke), hearing loud knocks, taps, singing, music, or the sound of something being dragged over the floors upstairs. One person even heard what sounded like a child playing marbles.”

On July 15, he saw an older woman sitting in one of the lawn chairs in the backyard. Finding her presence strange because he had not heard anyone coming in, Paul went outside to talk to the lady, who was sitting under a maple tree. She wouldn’t respond to his calls, so he got closer to her.

“She looked incredibly happy and calm. Suddenly she simply vanished and only our lawn chair remained,” he recounted. “Needless to say, I was quite taken aback and found the experience to be unsettling.”

A few days later, he began researching the family and found out an obituary in the Washington Post about a Greene County woman who had died on Tuesday, July 15, 2008 in Maryland. The obituary included a recent photograph.

“It was unquestionably the same woman as I recognized her face. She was without a doubt the daughter of former owners of the house, was raised there, moved to Maryland, and died the same day I saw her smiling,” Paul said. “I did not know that person nor had any knowledge of her or her family prior to seeing her apparition other than having her parents’ names on a handwritten list of previous owners.”

As these stories show, Greene County has been the location of legends about paranormal activity for centuries and there’s no better time than Halloween to get acquainted it them – be it for entertainment or to know places to stay away from.