Every great horror writer owes much to his or her surroundings. It should come as no surprise, then, that Stephen King found Maine a creepy muse for his hair-raising stories. Growing up in a sparsely-populated state filled with thick pine forests, rocky sea ledges, and creaky mills, King saw Maine’s spooky potential.
He’s not the only one. Maine has become a haven for ghost hunters everywhere. And every old-time Mainer worth his salt can trot out a good ghost story come October, be it the phantom ship that haunts the local harbor or the house up the road with ethereal occupants.
In the spirit of Halloween, Bangor Metro has tracked down 10 tales of Maine hauntings. Visit them at your own risk (and with the owner’s permission, of course).
Fort Knox
Prospect, Waldo County
Many people looking for a good fright like to stop by the Buck Cemetery on Route 1 in Bucksport to glimpse a mark on a tombstone that resembles a woman’s leg, but the real ghost story may be across the bridge at Fort Knox.
Each year, the fort puts on its own ghoulish fright-fest. But one year, a worker cleaning up from the festivities late at night saw a shadowy figure appear near him.
“He said, ‘Would somebody please come in here with me?’” says Leon Seymour, executive director of the Friends of Fort Knox. “He looked quite shaken.”
Visitors long have reported mysterious shadows, footprints in the snow, and other shadowy visitors to the fort. The reports were enough for the producers of the television show Ghost Hunter to send a team to investigate.
While the ghost pros reported strange electrical interference with their equipment and some unexplained heavy breathing, it was perhaps more entertaining for Seymour and his crew at Fort Knox to hear how much the visiting ghost hunters complained about the cold.
The Beta Theta Pi House
Orono, Penobscot County
Parents need not worry much if their sons join the Beta Theta Pi fraternity at UMaine Orono. There is an ethereal housemother looking out to make sure the boys are behaving themselves.
“Her name is Evelyn,” says graduate student Nick DeHaas. “As far as I can tell, she’s very protective.”
Evelyn is apparently the spirit of a housemother who died in her sleep around the mid-20th century. DeHaas first met Evelyn before he pledged, and he ended up crossing her. He saw that a fraternity friend had left his sunglasses and tried to return to pick them up. He heard a loud shrieking and put them down; Evelyn thought he was stealing.
She seems not to approve of parties, either. When the fraternity puts on an event, many electrical outlets don’t work. Fraternity members also report hearing footsteps in the walls and the proverbial bumps in the night.
It’s not only the fraternity members who need fear Evelyn; their romantic partners also may want to watch their backs. She can make life miserable for objectionable girlfriends, so many a fraternity member courts her blessing for his partnership.
“He’ll bring the girl up to Evelyn’s room for an introduction,” says DeHaas. “If nothing happens, Evelyn approves.”
The Shores of Dyer Brook
Dyer Brook, Aroostook County
Logging camps in Maine were never known for attracting the pious and well-mannered. At the same time, the work was dangerous enough that there were few atheists in camp.
It is said that at the Dyer Brook logging camp, there once was a logger, dubbed Jack the Ripper, whose irreverence put his fellow loggers to shame.
“He was profane and wild, definitely not a godly man,” says Jen Graham, an English instructor at Northern Maine Community College who has done presentations on haunted Maine locales.
In those days, people believed that if you called the devil at the banks of the brook for seven nights in a row, the devil would appear on the seventh night. Jack was the only man wild enough to dare it, and the devil appeared when he called. He warned Jack to stay off the logs during the logging drive on the brook the next day.
Jack ignored this advice and a flaming pickaxe appeared the next day between two logs near where he was standing. He escaped, but three loggers died in an accident that day, according to legend.
Schooner Head
Near Acadia National Park, Hancock County
The guidebooks say Schooner Head was named because of a rock outcropping that resembles a pale schooner. But in his new book, Ghosts of Acadia, Marcus Librizzi says the popular overlook might have a more nefarious origin—named after a damned ship that periodically can be seen crashing into the rocks.
The ghost ship was first recorded by the British Navy, which fired upon it during the War of 1812. The U.S. Navy did likewise during the presidency of Thomas Jefferson. Ever since, periodic reports have filtered in of a ghostly ship with a pale woman praying before the helm. Many sailors of yore viewed women on board as bad luck.
“She supposedly doomed the voyage and her pleading didn’t amount to anything,” Librizzi says.
If that isn’t spooky enough, the area around Schooner Head also is said to have a haunted mansion with ties to another famously doomed ship, the Titanic.
Violette Settlement
Fort Kent, Aroostook County
More than a few potato farmers in northern Maine have said choice words referencing the devil during harvest-time. But according to one story, the trouble starts when the devil actually listens.
As documented in the book Satan’s Harvest, a former Fort Kent resident named Maurice claims to have been possessed by the devil. He asked the devil for help harvesting his father’s potatoes. The devil seemingly obliged, but with a catch.
While Maurice seemed to gain supernatural strength to get the job done, he also was plagued by demonic possession, inexplicable disasters, and a violent temper. Also, family members often reported seeing two of him.
“He would be in the bedroom, but his family would see him outside,” Jen Graham says.
According to the book, Maurice’s case was troublesome enough that a Catholic bishop performed an exorcism.
The Conway Homestead
Rockport, Knox County
Old homes can collect the spirits of past residents, according to ghost hunters. There are few homes in midcoast Maine older than the Conway Homestead museum, so it would stand to reason it would house more than a few ghosts.
“People walk in and say, ‘I can’t stay here, there are too many spirits,’” says Marlene Hall, executive director of the Camden-Rockport Historical Society.
Hall understands. When she puts things away to close the homestead down for the winter, they don’t stay put away. Ribbons disappear, children’s dresses are moved, window shades are untied. This mischievous activity centers around the children’s room. Only Hall has a key to the place.
She hopes to get to the bottom of things soon. A ghost whisperer recently approached her about identifying the spirits. In the meantime, Hall is trying to keep things friendly with the house’s other-worldly inhabitants.
Before walking into a room, she says, “I usually announce my presence.”
Haynesville Woods
Haynesville, Aroostook County
The highways and byways in northern Maine are often lonely and seem to go on forever, but there is a stretch of road with a sharp curve between Howland and Houlton that is more dreaded than all the others. The Haynesville Woods road has been the site of numerous accidents and, not coincidentally, hosts the old ghost story standby of the hitchhiker of Haynesville Woods.
“Every state has a vanishing hitchhiker story,” says Jen Graham from Northern Maine Community College.
In this incarnation, travelers consistently report seeing a woman on the side of the road. If the traveler stops and gives the woman a ride, she will say she is a newlywed and that her husband’s car broke down. As the Haynesville Woods come to an end, she will vanish.
Legend says she died some years back after an accident involving her new husband. He died instantly, while she escaped the wreckage only to die later of exposure. The Haynesville legend was immortalized by country singer Dick Curless in his song, “A Tombstone for Every Mile.”
Owls Head Lighthouse
Owls Head, Knox County
Lighthouses keepers can’t help but see ghosts, says Tim Harrison, editor of Lighthouse Digest. “If you are out on your own on an island lighthouse and all you hear is the moaning and groaning of the wind, your mind will start playing tricks on you,” Harrison says. Lighthouses make for good ghost story fodder, considering the life-and-death struggles of shipwrecks and the supernatural devotion keepers exhibit for their jobs.
The Owls Head Lighthouse, it is said, is haunted by at least one past keeper and his family. One night, according to a report, a lighthouse keeper’s wife was dimly aware of her husband getting out of bed to tend the light. A little later, she awoke to find that someone had crawled back into bed, but it wasn’t her husband. All she saw was the indentation of a body on the sheets. She politely asked it to leave.
There are other reports of ghostly outlines of people and footsteps going up the lighthouse stairs, but never coming back down. And one lighthouse family reported that their daughter had an imaginary friend who resembled a grizzled sea captain. He even taught the little girl some lighthouse jargon that she had not previously known.
