Babyhead Cemetery Legend

Happy October!

Especially around Halloween, folklore seems to become more popular and tales that hint of gruesome details are told and retold.

Such is the fate of the origin of Babyhead Cemetery in the Texas Hill Country. Now admittedly when you put those two words together a gruesome backstory seems to be guaranteed. I’ll let you decide.

The cemetery is about ten miles north of Llano, in an area where the town of Babyhead once stood, by a mountain of the same name. In the mid-1800s it was a respectable size settlement, with a school, post office, courthouse and a few businesses. It eventually faded away and became a ghost town, with the remaining few citizens being absorbed into the city of Llano.

All that’s left of the community is a cemetery. Babyhead Cemetery. A place visited by more ghost enthusiasts than historians.

The Story

Local tradition shared that the town got its name in the 1850s, when a small child was kidnapped and killed by Indians trying to discourage settlers. Most versions include the grisly detail that the child’s head was left on a stake at the base of the mountain as a warning. Legend has it that the town was named in her memory.

The cemetery today has a few dozen well-kept but weathered graves that date from the early 2000s back to the oldest – that of a child named Jodie May McNeely who died on New Year’s Day in 1884.

Now we all know the old game of “telephone” or “post office” where one person says something, the next repeats it but a few facts change and so on. That’s how most local legends take shape.

Young Jodie’s grave is the one many visitors associate with the grim story, and that’s where they leave remembrances…dolls, toys, cards, candy…all for the child who they associate with the tale of another child who lost her life much too soon.

But at least Jodie is being visited.

A Texas State Historical marker was placed at edge of the cemetery in 1991 that shares a brief version on the story.

Another Option

Unless it was a community of ghouls, it would be very strange indeed to name your town, post office and even your children’s school Babyhead if the event truly occurred.

There is a large creek that runs past the former townsite. Remember that a moving body of water is referred to as a “head.” Unusually, this site also has a smaller creek that runs toward it nearby, right where Babyhead Road is today.o m

Hmmmm…..so if the major water was referred to as the Head, perhaps the settlers referred to the smaller creek as the Baby Head. Seems to make sense to me.

But legends and offerings persist, and really…who knows? You’ll have to decide for yourself.

Would you visit a cemetery named Babyhead?

Historic Texas Courthouse Ghost Linked to Murders

    I was considering what my first October post should be this year . . . a ghost story, a fascinating “story behind the stones” of old cemeteries, a thrilling story from Texas history, or a historic site. Why not all of the above? If you travel to Coryell County, it’s all in one place.

     Workers at the Coryell County Courthouse in Gatesville have felt an ‘other-worldly’ presence for years: cold breezes through the county clerk’s office, an occasional firm tap on the shoulder and even furniture being re-arranged in the middle of the night. Locals have dubbed the courtly ghost ‘Elroy’ because they aren’t certain who it actually is. But there are theories that the spirit can’t leave the courthouse because of a connection to a sensational 1909 murder right in the courtroom.


It happened over 100 years ago.

     In 1908 a 19-year-old young woman named Verna Mabel Ware was assaulted by a 20-year-old-man named John J. Hanes in the Gatesville area. It was alleged that Hanes – reportedly studying pharmacy – drugged chocolates he gave to the girl at a spring picnic and then took advantage of her, resulting in the birth of a child.

     He was charged with seduction, as the word ‘rape’ wasn’t used at the time because it was thought to be too harsh.

     Hanes reportedly had several male friends lie on the witness stand during his trail.

     It’s apparent that the behavior wasn’t unusual at the time, because before his own trial proceedings were finished he sat in the courtroom on February 2, 1909 watching another man named Wiley Mulhouse who was being prosecuted on the same charge. Because the jail was in the basement then, Hanes would have been returning to his cell at the end of the day. The two trials had split the town into separate contentious sides.

     Both Ware and Hanes came from respected farming families in the area and had many friends.

     Verna, distraught with her situation, stood in the rotunda with her brother Ezra looking through the plate glass window that separated them from the courtroom. Fearing she would never see justice, she decided to take action herself.

     She pulled a 38 caliber revolver from her purse and shot through the glass, hitting Hanes three times in the back. He died instantly. As people in the courtroom scattered, Ware continued to fire hitting James J. Smith (age 68) in the head, Dave Ross (age 48) in the arm and back and A. P. Wiley, Jr. in the leg. Only Wiley would survive his wounds.

     Initial newspaper accounts reported that the three other wounded men were merely spectators in the courtroom, but local lore hints that they may have been character witnesses for Hanes.

     Judge Arnold maintained composure during the incident and directed officials to take Ware downstairs to the jail. Physicians who visited her in her cell declared that she was in a  “critical condition of nervous collapse.”

     After a few days in jail formal charges were made of three counts of murder and one for carrying a pistol. Her bond was set at $7,500, and was paid by citizens of the community who sympathized with Ware and her situation.

     The trail began late in 1909 and continued until February when she was declared not guilty due to temporary insanity. Reporters wrote that at times during the proceedings the jury and spectators were moved to tears. She did have to pay a fine for having the gun, however.

     So who is the courthouse ghost? Perhaps it is Hanes who was positive he would get away with his transgression, and now is trapped in the courthouse. Perhaps it’s the spirit of someone else. We may not ever know for sure.

     But if you visit the Coryell courthouse, be prepared to feel an unseasonable chill in the air.

   Now, I’m curious…are you more likely to visit the courthouse because of it’s beauty, or because of its ghost?

Incidentally….

  •      The jury for the Mulhouse case returned a few days later and returned a guilty verdict with a sentence of two years.

  • The three shooting victims are buried in area cemeteries, with nothing on their markers to denote their newsworthy demises.

  •      In the 1990s a local artist even depicted the courthouse in an oil painting  with a shadowy figure peering out of a second floor window over Main Street.

  •      The year after her trial, Verna Ware married W.R. Eck who adopted her daughter Opal. He unfortunately passed away in 1918.

  •      Ware remarried, but it didn’t last. She and Opal moved to Utah were Verna passed away in a rest home in 1973.

  •      And the courthouse? It’s well worth visiting with or without the ghost in attendance. The Beaux Arts beauty was built in 1897-1898 of red and white sandstone from a design of architect Wesley Clark Dodson.

 

 

Denton’s Ghostly Goatman Bridge


   What? You want another Texas ghost story to usher in Halloween? Well, who am I to say no to such a reasonable request . . .

   Hear the word “Denton,” and you might thing of University of North Texas or Texas Women’s University.

   But being the lover of ghostly tales that I am, my “to see” list recently included the Old Alton Bridge . . . known to locals and students as Goatman’s Bridge. According to legend if you go down to the bridge at night, turn off you headlights and honk twice – you’d see the glowing red eyes of the Goatman himself on the other side.

   Now let’s clear something up to start with you can’t actually drive across the bridge (any more). It has been blocked off as a pedestrians only bridge. There is even a wonderful art installation that lights the beams with multicolored lights at night. Fun to stop and see even if you aren’t looking for something otherworldly.


Back when the bridge was built in 1884 over Hickory Creek, it was a busy thoroughfare. Now it’s one of those beautiful relics with a web of cast iron arching over creaking wood plank decking. A spot that has become oh-so-popular with thrill seekers and ghost hunters.

   Since the 1930s several different versions of the Goatman tale have circulated among locals. After all, most local legends are passed down verbally and change just a bit with each telling.

   The most popular version of the story relates the tale of an African-American named Oscar Washburn and his family who kept a herd of goats near the bridge. They made a good living from the animals’ meat, milk, cheeses and hides. But when the man hung a sign on the bridge directing his customers with the words “This way to the Goatman,” the local Ku Klux Klansmen were offended by his pride.

   Late on a dark night in 1938, a lynch mob stormed the family’s shack and dragged the screaming Goatman to the bridge, where they put a noose around his neck and flung him over the side. And there’s a twist to the story: when the marauders went down the banks of the creek to admire their handywork…the noose was empty and Washburn was nowhere to be seen.

   Thinking he had escaped, they went back to the shack and set in on fire – with the unfortunate family inside – to lure Washburn out of the woods. But he was never seen again . . . at least in the flesh.

   Stories advise seekers of the vengeful spirit to knock three times on the bridge, or honk their car horn to summon the spirit. They even say that the Goatman will take his revenge on anyone who dares to summon him that is of the same bloodline as one of the murderers.  (So it might be wise to do a bit of genealogy before you go!)

   Goatman legends exist in several other towns in Texas and several other states, with slight variations. They probably serve more as a warning of morality than a reminder of an actual historical event. No African American named Oscar Washburn lived in the area at the time, and there were no reports of lynchings in 1938. But visitors persist in reporting strange smells and sights, being touched or grabbed and hearing snarling coming from the woods.

   If you want to stop at Denton’s Goatman Bridge and tempt fate for yourself . . . be my guest!

A Ghostly Light on Bailey’s Prairie


     A state as big as Texas is bound to have a lot of ghost stories. . . luckily for us!

     The first tale I’ll share this October is probably one of the most famous to native Texans, and takes place in Bailey’s Prairie.

     If you happen to be motoring south on Highway 35 and see a bouncing orange glow . . . it’s probably Old Brit Bailey in search of his jug of whiskey!

     James Briton “Brit” Bailey was more than a real person. He was a real character. Known for his eccentric personality, love of drink and penchant for brawls, life was never dull in his presence. At six feet tall (quite a height for the time), was an imposing figure with his jet-black hair and broad brimmed hat.

     “Brit” was born in North Carolina on August 1, 1779 in North Carolina. After fighting in the War of 1812 the pioneer came to Texas in 1818 with his second wife, Dot, six children and his slaves, settling in what came to be known as Brazoria County. Several years later Stephen F. Austin would arrive with the “Old Three Hundred” to settle parcels of land in the area.

     Not one to pass up a fight or give ground on a cause he believed in, Brit was also a veteran of the Battle of Jones Creek in 1824, and the Battle of Velasco in 1832.

     Locals love to share a story about the rowdy rancher that captures his personality. It seems that he shot at a traveling preacher’s feet to watch him dance. After the episode when the men were sharing a drink, the preacher took the opportunity to grab Brit’s gun and made the same demand. Roaring with delight, Brit jumped onto a table and energetically danced a jig while onlookers applauded.

 

     His temper was as legendary as his humor, and one night he apparently set fire to all the buildings on his own property except the main house.

     On December 6, 1832 Brit passed away quietly in his own bed from fever that many think may have been cholera.

     Peculiar instructions in his will provided one more surprise for the community.  He had requested to be buried standing up (now that took a deep hole!), facing west with his rifle over his shoulder, powder horn by his side, and a jug of whiskey.

     Brit didn’t want anyone passing by his grave saying, “There lies Brit Bailey” and he figured if her was standing up….they couldn’t!

     He was buried in a grove near his home and though all his instructions were followed, his jug whiskey was omitted from the coffin. His widow objected to that item, saying he had imbibed enough in his lifetime.

     According to legend his ghost in the form of a strange light roams his old homestead at Bailey’s Prairie looking for the lost jug of whiskey. Many describe it as having an orange glow and bobbing around about four to six feet above the ground – the eight a lantern might be held on horseback.

     Back when the story originated, it was said that Old Brit searched the prairie every seven years, but either people weren’t paying attention or he’s getting thirstier because now Bailey’s Light is seen on a regular basis.

   Naysayers theorize the glow is caused by puffs of natural gas escaping from the ground, but you’ll be hard pressed to convince witnesses of that.

     Bailey’s Prairie, Brit Bailey Boulevard (FM 521) and even a local chapter of the DAR are named for this unique figure in Texas history.

     Texas State Historical Markers telling Brit’s story can be found just outside the gates of Munson Cemetery. Unfortunately, someone has vandalized the emblem off of Brit’s marker. (Hope that Brit chased them!)

     Are you brave enough to search out Bailey’s Light on a dark night on the prairie?

Subject a real person: Confirmed

Location: Bailey’s Prairie, Brazoria County. Stretch of Highway 35 between Angleton and West Columbia

Best time to see phenomenon: Twilight





For more Texas ghost stories check out

“Ghosts of Galveston,”

available on amazon.com.

Ghosts of the Emily Morgan Hotel

     “Good evening, Mrs. Maca,” the desk clerk smiled as she handed me my room key card. “We’ve booked you in a suite on the haunted floor.”

     It definitely wasn’t the usual greeting I receive at a hotel check-in, but obviously someone on staff had Googled my name . . . and I have to say I was pretty delighted.

     I was in San Antonio speaking about cemetery symbolism at a paran
ormal conference, of all things. My books about Galveston cemeteries and ghosts have certainly opened up some unusual venues for me. And although I must admit that my choice to stay at the Emily Morgan was based on an admiration for its elegance and location (right next door to the Alamo, for heaven’s sake!), the stories of its hauntings may have played a part in the decision to choose it. It is known as one of the three most haunted hotels in the city.

UNUSUAL PAST

     Now a part of the luxurious Doubletree by Hilton chain (yep, that means their famous fresh cookies at check-in), the thirteen-story building wasn’t always a hotel.

     The striking Gothic Revival structure opened in 1924 as the Medical Arts Building, with the first four floors being doctors’ offices and a pharmacy. Other levels included a psychiatric ward (seventh floor), the top two floors served as surgical wards, and of course – a morgue in the basement.

     The towering building features unique ornamentation and a copper roof with wood ribs. The most unusual adornments are undoubtedly a variety of gargoyles (actually “grotesques” since they have no downspouts) that surround the building, each portraying a medical ailment that might have been treated within. They’re slightly reminiscent of some stone carving from the movie “Ghostbusters” about to come to life. There are even flying monkeys for those who look closely.

     One of the more “princely” – though certainly not handsome – examples wearing a crown was perched right outside a window of my room, and it was fascinating to see him so close-up.

     It remained a hospital for about 52 years before being converted into an office building in 1976.  Luckily for those who appreciate her beautiful architecture, the Emily Morgan (named after the Yellow Rose of Texas) was recognized by the National Register of Historic Places as part of the Alamo Plaza Historic District the following year.

     In 1984 it opened as a luxury hotel, and in 2012 it underwent a multi-million dollar renovation before being reopened as part of the Doubletree group.

     I suppose that should be our first clue, since one of the common superstitions about spirits . . . or is it a fact . . . is that they tend to get “stirred up” during renovations of their surroundings.

     Considering the amount of suffering and death the walls witnessed for so many years, it shouldn’t come as a surprise that “energies” from the past are reported to remain.

SPIRITED ROOMIE, ANYONE?

     Throughout the weekend I heard hotel guests inquire of each other if they had had any ghostly experiences, anxiously hoping to hear the answer “yes.” When comparing room numbers, my answer was usually met with a lot of interest, and I invited people up to check out my room for themselves whenever my timetable allowed. There was even a YouTuber who took video. More often than not, the visitors ended up being just as intrigued by the beauty of the view and the room as any otherworldly roommates I might have.

     I found it amusing that even a few attendees of the paranormal convention, which was held at a reputedly haunted mansion, left before all of the festivities were over to return to the Emily Morgan to seek out their own “encounters” in impromptu ghost hunts.

     Would you stay on the 13th floor of a notoriously haunted hotel or do you think that would be bad luck?

     Poppycock, you say – hotels don’t have a 13th floor! Ah, but we all really know the truth, don’t we? A glance at any hotel elevator board and you’ll see they’ve conveniently skipped from the 12th to the 14th when numbering floors to avoid any superstitious guests being uncomfortable. So the 14th floor actually is the 13th.

     The Emily Morgan has taken these superstitions into account at an entirely new level by omitting the room number 1408. You see, when you add those numbers together you would realize they equal 13 on the actual 13th floor.

     Regardless, there have been reported ghostly occurrences on almost every floor, with the 7th, 13th and 14th being the most active.

12th & 14th FLOORS

     Guests on the 14th floor have often specifically requested to stay on this notoriously haunted level. As one of the former surgical wards where numerous deaths occurred, the expectation of ghosts is somewhat understandable.

     Room occupants in the past have reported opening doors to the hallway only to see hospital scenes playing out in front of them, complete with nurses pushing squeaky-wheeled gurneys.

    When they shut the door to gather their wits before reopening it, the scenes vanish.

    Much more unpleasant is the report of a lingering scent of antiseptic, which I was quite grateful not to have noticed.

     The perception something cool brushing up against guests has been noted on both floors. Would it be a relief on a hot summer night, or send unwelcome chills?

     Utilities seem to be of special interest to spirits on the 12th floor, including flashing lights and impish water faucets. Dripping noises can be heard in the middle of the night, with investigating occupants discovering the bath faucets to be completely cranked open.

     I must admit that I heard an incessant dripping of water as I was admiring the full moon outside my window, but after investigating I decided that someone on the floor above me must have a slow draining bath, as there was no water actually running in my room.

     Bathroom doors visibly opening and shutting have also been witnessed, which is odd since the extensive renovations should have taken away any explanation of “off kilter” doors.  

     Having heard these stories, I considered myself pretty darn brave to take a soaking bath both nights of my stay . . . but I just couldn’t resist the immense “champagne Jacuzzi” tub. Thankfully, the spirits left me to unwind in peace.

     I even heard one report that the Emily Morgan’s swimming pool, a triangular feature situated on an outcropping of an upper floor, was constructed out of the stainless steel from the medical center’s operating tables. Though I couldn’t find anything to confirm this, it sure makes a great story and would have been an ingenious (if eerie) example of repurposing materials.

IT HAS ITS UPS & DOWNS

     One ”phenomenon” at the Emily Morgan that I can confirm through personal experience is that the elevators seem to have a mind of their own.

     The elevators are said to often to ride up and down without a single rider or skip past a floor that a rider has requested by pushing the button, because . . . c’mon, ghosts just wanna have fun.

     When you step onto one of these conveyances, take a bit of patience and be ready to accept an adventure if it should present itself.

     Front desk attendants are said to receive phone calls –from these same elevators-even when no one is inside.

     One of the creepiest experiences reported by visitors is that the elevators (regardless of which floor was requested) have taken their passengers below ground to the basement level, where the morgue once was.

     Meeting rooms and housekeeping are the only things housed there today, but it is said that even employees keep their time there to a minimum. Among the things reported to have been experienced there are dancing orbs (there are no windows, so they couldn’t be reflections) and disembodied voices. I wonder what they have to say?

     The most dramatic – verging on unnerving – experience I had at the hotel involved the elevators. It was witnessed by numerous other guests and staff, but I’ll keep this one to myself (sorry).

OTHER “RESIDENTS”

     Other floors in the hotel come with reports of a woman’s shrieking cries in the middle of the night, transparent apparitions moving from room to room and passing through walls or even gazing into the mirror as guests check their appearance. Which of these would you be brave enough to see or hear?

     The staff confirms that occasionally guests request to switch rooms, citing that the activity in theirs is too much to endure.

     Did they actually experience something paranormal or did they take the hotel’s ghostly tales too close to heart? Only they will know for sure, but I suggest you check in and decide for yourself.

     Employees of the hotel are happy to share their own experiences or stories they’ve heard, and if they aren’t scared, why should we be?

     Ghosts or not, the Emily Morgan Hotel remains high on my recommendations for accommodations in the city of San Antonio. The beautiful architecture and interior spaces and gracious staff are unparalleled.

Test Your Dia de los Muertos Trivia IQ

 

Stacy Anderson Photography


If you think that Dia de los Muertos is a creepy holiday, or the same as Halloween . . . think again! This Latin American holiday is rooted in the love of family and traditions.

     My friend Stacy, from the Hurried Hostess blog, and I got to visit with Houston Life TV and share a bit about this special tradition.

     Here are the trivia questions that I posed to the hosts. Give them a try to see how you do!

How many days does the celebration of Dia de los Muertos span?

  1. one

  2. two

  3. three

  4. four

Dia de los Muertos coincides with which two Catholic holidays?

  1. Halloween and All Souls’ Day

  2. Assumption and Good Friday

  3. All Saints Day and All Souls Day

  4. Halloween and Our Lady of Autumn

What is the traditional flower to leave on graves during the Day of the Dead celebrations?

  1. roses

  2. marigolds

  3. tulips

  4. mums

Dia de los Muertos was originally celebrated in what month?

  1. December

  2. August

  3. March

  4. January

The iconic woman skeleton character in a dress and hat is known as:

  1. la Madre

  2. la Madrina

  3. la Muertida

  4. la Catrina

In the United States, pumpkins are associated with Halloween. What traditional food does Mexico associate with Dia de los Muertos?

  1. corn

  2. beans

  3. potatoes

  4. butternut squash

Which people were the first to practice the beginnings of this tradition?

  1. Spanish

  2. Hondurans

  3. Aztecs

  4. Mayans

Answers:

.

.

.

Did you peek?

.

.

.

How many days does the celebration of Dia de los Muertos span?

Three. October 31 is All Hallow’s Eve, a day of preparation for the return of the spirits. November 1 is El Dia de los Innocentes (day of the children). On this day celebrants welcome the spirits of lost children. The last day is November 2, or Day of the Dead, when the rest of the family members and friends who have passed on are reunited with their loved ones for one day.

 

Dia de los Muertos coincides with which two Catholic holidays?

All Saints Day (November 1) and All Souls Day (November 2)

 

What is the traditional flower to leave on graves during the Day of the Dead celebrations?

Marigolds! The brilliant color and strong fragrance of this flower is thought to attract the spirits and lead them in the direction of the celebrations.

 

Dia de los Muertos was originally celebrated in what month?

The celebration originally fell in the ninth month of the Aztec calendar, which was around early August.

 

The iconic woman skeleton character in a dress and hat is known as:

La Calavera Catrina (the skeleton Catrina), also known as the elegant skull, comes from an etching created by Mexican cartoonist and illustrator Jose’ Guadalupe Posada around 1910. Wearing her fancy hat, she serves as a reminder that death does not discriminate between classes and comes even to the wealthy.

 

In the United States, pumpkins are associated with Halloween. What traditional food does Mexico associate with Dia de los Muertos?

Butternut squash is traditionally candied and enjoyed as a dessert, but squash recipes of all types can be found during the holiday.

 

Which people were the first to practice the beginnings of this tradition?

Aztecs. The origins of the rituals practiced during Dia de los Muertos can be traced back 3,000 years!

 

     So, how did you do? Share the quiz with your friends to see how their Day of the Dead knowledge matches up!

 

Watch Courtney Zavala And Derrick Shore of Houston Life TV

try their hand at the same questions, here!


 

     To find ideas for how to celebrate with a party of your own, see my previous post, here.