GHOSTS - Mo Co findings ?
SLAVENS - 1890
Source: Crawfordsville Daily Journal Saturday, 22 Feb. 1890
It will be remembered by our readers that a few months since an old resident of Madison Township, F. M. Slavens by name, became tired of his existence on earth and essayed to try another world on the idea that it would turn out a better and easier place in which to secure repose and miss the tax gatherer and other impediments which weigh down this terrestrial sphere. Accordingly he adjourned himself to the yard of Oakland School house and placing a halter about his neck swung himself to a limb, where he was found later on, dead. No particular cause was assigned for the act, and it was supposed that he was mentally affected and in a fit of despondency had committed the deed. After the usual excitement attendant upon such an event, the neighborhood settled down to its accustomed quiet but not so with the spirit which had fled. It is presumed that it had not discovered Elysian Fields to be much better than the whitened fields of Madison, and it came back. It now wanders at random up and down the road, and hovers about the Oakland School house yard, where the soul and body parted, nearly every night. It does not appear a fiery phenomenon, but as old man Slavens as he was in the flesh. His appearance is perfect as his life even to the hickory cane which he carried. The form is vapory but distinct, and has been seen by a great many in the immediate neighborhood of where the tragedy occurred. The neighbors have become frightened at the appearances of the apparition but have been quite expecting to be able to solve, but have not done so. A stranger in the neighborhood and acquainted with the tragedy passed by the school house a few nights since at the witching hour of midnight and saw the ghostly form in the moonlight. He thought to make inquiries and spoke to it. There was no answer. The figure gilded silently and swiftly toward him until it reached the center of the road and like a flash had disappeared. The hair on the head of the stranger drove his hat toward the stars, the sweat broke out on his face and he ran as though pursued by a thousand demons. He saw goblins and demons all about him. They hung in legions over his head and grabbed for his clothes. They were on his front flanks and rear; all about him like Hector around the walls of Troy. He finally reached the house of Dan Darnell, where he told breathlessly his awful story. The people who live near the place are scared badly and will give someone a big price to lay the ghost. Here is a chance for Doherty. - thanks so very much to S
PETTIT, Hattie - 1891
Source: Crawfordsville Daily Journal Monday, 22 June 1891
A weird but interesting story of a ghost that frequents the Methodist Church at Shawnee Mound is going the rounds of the press. It was first seen, so the story goes, shortly after the conviction of Pettit, but everybody scoffed at the few who claimed to have seen it. But in the course of a month its visits to the ‘ghost walk’, a path between the parsonage and the church, were a familiar sight to some of the most reliable citizens of the neighborhood. Quoting the story:
“As many as thirty reputable citizens claim to have seen the uneasy spirit, and strangely enough, all of them upon various Wednesday nights. Some believe that the ghost prefers this night to give its uncanny musicales because it was the regular prayer-meeting night during Pettit’s work on Shawnee Mound while others believe it because the verdict of the murder was made up by the jury upon Wednesday night. Jonathan Meharry thus narrates his experience with the spook: ‘It was one of those moonlight Wednesday nights in February, about 11 o’clock, that I approached the Shawnee Church on my way home from Wingate. I was tired and I expect dozing a little on my seat when, directly in front of the church, my horse stopped still, with a snort that thoroughly aroused me. I looked at him and saw that he was trembling in every limb, his ears were thrust forward and he seemed to be paralyzed with terror by some approaching danger. I raised my eyes and I beheld that which gave me as great a turn as it did old Bird. Coming directly down the Fred Pettit path to my right and about 100 yards from the church, was what looked to me for all the world like Hattie Pettit, wearing the same traveling dress in which she returned from South Bend just before her death. My emotions were strange and indefinite, and after having passed my hand over my eyes as if to remove the illusion, I became quiet through a fascination whose power I was unable to shake off, but which rendered my mind wonderfully clear and susceptible to an impression of what I saw. I had heard of the ghost from others and although I am to some extent a Spiritualist, I was wholly unprepared for any such manifestation as I beheld. The ghost came directly down the path directly toward me, and I had a remarkable good view of the features by the light of the moon. A more troubled face I never saw and the lips moved constantly as though in prayer, just as I had often observed her pray silently in services during her life. There was no token of recognition or even observance of my presence in the glassy eyes which were turned toward me. Arrived at the corner of the church, the spirit turned and proceeded directly to the door. Arrived upon the threshold, she paused, raised her arms toward heaven and wrung her hands in a supplicating manner. This position was assumed for several seconds, and then, as with suddenly received power or inspiration, she pushed open the door, which opened noiselessly, and so closed after her. Almost immediately the midnight air was filled with the familiar notes of ‘Rock of Ages.’ The music was from the organ, but it was unearthly and gruesome. The first selection was followed by another which was wholly unfamiliar, but ineffably sweet, and which finally died away in a strain so mellow and so sweet it filled the soul with religious rapture. How long I sat there after the music ceased, I cannot say, but I was aroused from my lethargy by old Bird breaking into a long swinging trot, which soon left the country church and its weird associations far behind.’ The experience of Mr. Meharry has been that of several others, and no one can account for the appearance save by conjunctures, which, by the way, are numerous, varied and unique.” - kbz