Last Ride Road

 Good Morning MMers, we've got a bit of a road story for you this time around. It deals with a certain section of Route 220, just north of Waldoboro that's come to be known as Last Ride Road. Since 1953 there have been seventeen fatal car crashes on this stretch of road. Nearly all of those crashes have been single vehicle, and the vast majority have involved only one occupant.

Route 220 just outside Waldoboro

The legend begins in the summer of 1953 when eighteen year old Brenda Thompson was returning from a date with her boyfriend. They had gone to the local bowling alley and returning late around 11:00 PM. Brenda and her beau got into a quarrel and despite the fog that had drifted in sometime while they had been enjoying the evening, Brenda demanded that her boyfriend pull over. She got out of the car and started walking in the direction of home. Her boyfriend, Tom Allen drove beside her for a few minutes, trying to convince her to get back into the car, but when she wouldn't, he drove off. Eventually Tom decided it was best to go back and get Brenda instead of letting her walk all the way home, so he turned around and started back to where he had left her. 

His concern for his girlfriend, coupled with the thick fog made driving difficult. By the time he saw Brenda walking up the middle of the road, it was too late. He slammed on the brakes, but struck and killed Brenda Thompson.

Is the ghost of Brenda Thompson still searching
for a ride all these years later?

Since then many have claimed to see the ghost of Brenda Thompson walking that stretch of road, wearing the same pink skirt she wore on her final date. Many will tell the story of driving that part of Rt. 220 late at night and seeing the shadowy figure of a teenaged girl standing in the middle of the road, beckoning for a ride. 

One Colton Campbell claimed to see the ghost of Brenda Thompson in the fall of 1999. He was driving home from a Halloween party with two of his friends when they came upon Brenda standing in the middle of the road.

"I thought she was in a costume," Campbell told us. "You know, like one of those poodle skirts from like Grease or something. She looked like she needed a ride, so we pulled over. She climbed into the back seat with Mark."

Right away, Campbell said he noticed something was off with the girl. She didn't speak much, only muttering, "Where's Tom?" over and over again. Campbell said it grew cold in the car, so he turned the heat up. 

"No matter how hot I cranked it, the car never got warm. It was cold, like a winter night," he said.

The radio began to squawk with static, no matter what station Campbell put it on. His skin began to crawl and he noticed his friends were starting to get pretty nervous too. 

"It felt like someone was looking into my head," Campbell told us more than twenty years later. "I know it doesn't really make any sense, but it felt like someone had unscrewed the top of my head and was poking around in there."

Finally, it grew too much for Campbell and his friends. They pulled the car over and ran out, leaving the motor running. They ran five miles to the closest house, woke up the owners by knocking loudly, and used their phone to call their parents.

"I've never been more scared in my entire life," Campbell said. "Never."

Campbell's car was recovered exactly where he had left it. There was no trace of Brenda Thompson or any other girl wearing a pink poodle skirt. 

Is this the ghost of Brenda Thompson?

Others have not been as lucky. The sightings of Brenda Thompson looking for her lost love have lasted for over fifty years. There have been many late night crashes along the stretch of road where Brenda died. There have been few survivors. Each one of them recalls seeing a teenager in a pink skirt moments before their crash.

Colton Campbell and the few who have taken the Last Ride Road and survived warn against stopping. They say its best to avoid picking up strangers late at night, or better yet, take an alternate route.

"Just stay away," Campbell said. "I wish I had."

Stay safe out there, Maine.

Lost Lady of the Plains

Have you heard of the Lost Lady of the Plains? The Blueberry Plains, that is. If not, pay attention MMers. 

The Blueberry Plains around Route 99 in Kennebunk

This story comes from the Blueberry Plains in Kennebunk. This vast stretch of blueberry bushes is a great place to spend an afternoon if you're looking for a great place to get some authentic wild Maine blueberries. If you happen to be there around dusk, be on the lookout for an older woman who appears to be lost.

Artist's rendition of the
Lost Lady of the Plains

According to several witnesses, this woman appears to be somewhere in her mid- to late-sixties. She has short, white hair, and what appears to be a light blue sweater or light jacket and a pair of sensible, gray slacks. She approaches pickers with an empty pail and lost, longing look in her eyes. She has been reported to ask people, "Have you seen Wallace?" or "My husband. I can't find my husband. I... don't know where I am. I'm so scared."

Reports claim that this apparition is harmless. After a few moments of looking around, she'll wander off again, in a lost shamble, until she disappears among the blueberry bushes. Often times visitors of the Blueberry Plains will claim to hear a woman's voice, raised in a cry, distant as if carried by a soft breeze, calling, "Waaaalllaaace? Waaaalllaaace?"

No one knows who this woman is, but it is clear she is a spirit or ghost. No records of a woman going missing at the Blueberry Plains have been found and there are no reports of a man named Wallace losing his wife in the vicinity, but this phantom has been spotted among the blueberries for thirty years or so. 

One witness to the Lost Lady of the Plains, Karen Baker of Sanford, tried to snap a picture of the ghostly woman as she walked away.

Karen Baker's picture showing the Lost Lady of the Plains

"I swear she was standing right there. Right in the middle of the trail. I could see her plainly, wearing that blue jacket. Her sneakers were so white against the green of the bushes. But she didn't show up in the picture. That's when I knew for sure this wasn't some sort of hoax or tall tale," Karen said.

So, if you're ever out on the Blueberry Plains and you're approached by an elderly woman looking for her husband, Wallace, just kindly tell her that you haven't seen him, but you'll keep an eye out. 

And wish her well.

Stay safe out there, Maine.

My Great Aunt Married a Ghost

We've got a real weird one for you, MMers, so hold on. Shelly Macintosh, a college student out of Westbrook, tells the story of her great aunt, who she claims married an actual ghost!

The woman in question, Mary Kaminski, was a spinster well into her fifties, according to her great-niece Shelly. "She was always a bit of a homebody, if you know what I mean. She liked cats, jigsaw puzzles, that sort of thing. Super nice, though."

As Shelly tells it, Mary met a man who moved into the apartment across the hall from hers. "He was older, maybe seventy, seventy-five. Pretty old school, but still a nice guy. We all thought it was cute he and Mary were dating."

The couple was soon married and moved in together. For a few years things were great. Mary and her husband, a man named Donald Warren, were happy. It was like a breath of fresh air for the couple. "They both seem reinvigorated, full of life," Shelly told us. "It was great!"

But then things started to change. "I noticed that Don always walked about the war and his experiences," Shelly continued. Don would tell stories of practicing with live ammunition and that his friend William Corbell jumped up too soon and was shot in the head. He used terms that were outdated, that didn't seem to be a part of the modern world.

"At first, I thought he was just an old man, you know?" Shelly told us. "Like he came from a different generation. You know it's not right, but sometimes you just have to accept that he's stuck in his ways. You know what I'm saying?"

It wasn't until Don mentioned the Battle of Blackburn's Ford that Shelly began to seriously question. "It didn't sound like a World War II battle or Korea, or Vietnam or whatever. So I did a little research and I found  that Blackburn's Ford was a Civil War battle in Virginia. Well, I thought that was odd, so I did a little more research."

It turns out that the 113th Infantry Unit from Maine, under the leadership of one General James A. Cluthcher took part in that battle. It was a bit of a rout by the Confederate troops, and many of the Maine brigade perished in the battle. 

Including one Private Donald M. Warren.

"My first thought was, okay this is weird. Maybe it was like an ancestor of his," Shelly said. "Then I googled a few more things and I found the story about his friend William Corbell getting shot during a training exercise, and suddenly the pieces started coming together."

The outdated manner of speaking, the hatred for Southern States, his stories of a nebulous war that sounded nothing like modern warfare. Shelly was convinced he was a ghost. The real kicker was when she found a picture of Private Donald Warren and compared it to one of the man who had married her great aunt.

Donald Warren, 2020

Private Donald M. Warren, 1861

"I was scared," Shelly admitted. "So i burned some sage and doing some reading on the internet, I found a... not a spell, I guess, but a ritual? I don't know what the right word is, but it was to cleanse the spirits of the lingering dead. I went over to Mary's house one day when I knew her and Don were out and I said the words I printed off the website. I left the little charms and symbols it told me to draw."

Shelly never saw Don again. According to Mary he disappeared one night while she was asleep. It was as if he had never been there at all. Mary became depressed and after a few months, just a few days shy of her sixty-third birthday, she passed away in her sleep. Shelly suspects it was from a broken heart.

"She really loved that guy, and I guess he really loved her. I know he was a Civil War ghost or whatever, but maybe I shouldn't have intervened. Maybe I should have just let them be happy. Wherever we go when we die, I hope they're together."

Stay safe out there, Maine!

Needle Ghost Mayhem

We hear a lot about ghosts here at Malevolent Maine, but this one is crazy! At a mental health institute up in Augusta we have reports of a terrifying and powerful apparition haunting the halls. Jeff Patrick, former night janitor and caretaker of the facility, has reported that he had an encounter with the ghost, and it changed his life in the worst possible way. 

Jeff reported that the institute gave him the creeps since the very first night, “I came in for my shift on the very first day, and there was this super weird sound coming from the second floor. I went to see what was up, and there wasn’t anything at all. Second night same thing but there was a weird floating orb. I’m not gonna lie, I didn’t stay there long after I saw that I ran back, put my headphones in, listened to some Floyd, and went about my night.” 

Jeff said he avoided whatever made the noise for a few months after those first encounters, but one fateful night two months ago had a different outcome. “It was time for me to mop the second floor hallway, so I got my bucket ready, headed up there, put on my tunes real loud so I couldn’t hear much then I went at it. Halfway through I look up and I see this half see through guy just drifting past me, heading down the hall towards the pharmacy. I yell at it but it just keeps on drifting. I watched it disappear into the pharmacy and I tried following it. Usually the pharmacy is locked up but today for some reason it was open. I go in and see this thing just hucking stuff every which way, I go to reach out and stop it and I feel this sharp pain in my arm. I pull my arm out of the ghost and sticking out of it is a syringe. It must have been some kind of pain killer or sleep medicine, because I woke up in the morning with the security guard standing over me with a big frown on his face.” 

The institute fired Jeff for stealing, and doing drugs on the job, there is even a pending criminal case. Jeff claims that he had nothing to do with the theft and that the “damn ghost” did everything. 

We believe Jeff and truly feel sorry that he lost his job and might end up going to jail over these supernatural shenanigans. If you are ever in Augusta avoid the mental health institute, the ghost there might just get you like it got Jeff. Stay safe out there, Maine!

The Ghost Pig

 Okay, MMers, this one's a bit of a cheat, but it was too good to pass up. As you know, we're really focused on the paranormal and unexplained here in Maine, so when this story first crossed our inbox we weren't sure we wanted to use it - not because of the content, but because of its location. After much internal discussion, we agreed to make this one exception. So without further ado, we bring you the Ghost Pig of Effingham, New Hampshire.

The Ghost Pig

Effingham is a small town just over the Maine border. Boasting just over 1,400 people, the town was actually incorporated back in 1778. The story, which we heard from John Darling, author of the the book, The Wind Beneath the Eaves: An Oral History of Southern New Hampshire, involves Martin Leavitt, the grandson of the town's founding father in the year 1775. 

Martin Leavitt on his farm, 1775

Martin Leavitt was the third son of Moses M. Leavitt. He was a meager pig farmer living in the shadows of his more successful father and brothers. When the British troops came through Effingham (then known as Leavitt's Town) they demanded quarters from the locals. Many of the citizens reluctantly agreed. The commander of the British troops insisted that Leavitt slaughter his prize pig, Rufus, to feed his men. Leavitt refused, he had raised Rufus from a baby and he knew the pig very well could change his fortune. The commander threatened to burn Leavitt's far to the ground, slaughter his entire stock, and seed the earth with the pig's blood. 

Eventually Leavitt conceded, but before he did, he cursed the British. "Eat this pork and its owner will never leave you," were the words he was reported as saying. Some claim he mixed his own blood with the pig's to make a charm, some say his words were more of a jest than a serious hex, but the story seemingly ended there. 

Until it didn't.

For the next two centuries stories of the ghost pig began circulating out of Effingham. Multiple reports claim to have seen or heard the beast outside the area where Leavitt's pig farm once stood. One report from a hiker claimed that while, "walking in the woods, I suddenly heard a deep, grunting sound. There was the sound of the ground being trampled and bushes snapping. Whatever it was, it sounded huge, like the size of a compact car. I turned around, trying to find where it was coming from. All I saw were tusks the size of my arm and two burning red eyes." The hiker ran for his life and when he finally turned around again, he was alone. 

But the stories don't end there. People have reported trampled trash barrels, ransacked gardens, and smashed open camps. The ghost pig seems like a mutated, giant form of Rufus. He has been known to charge people, causing them to be injured leaping out of the way, before disappearing. At least two victims have claimed to have actually been trampled by Rufus, and a third victim appeared at the hospital with gore wounds from the beast's tusks. The one thing all of the stories have in common is the rage of the creature. 

Local citizens have embraced the story oft he Ghost Pig. There's Ghost Pig Brewery over on Route 25. There's Rasta Rufus Dispensary, even a statue dedicated to Martin Leavitt and the Ghost Pig int he center of town. 

Ghost Pig Brewing Co, Effingham, NH

"He's a hero to us," said Wayne DeWinter, the owner and head brewer at Ghost Pig Brewery. "We all heard the stories of Rufus growing up. A lot of us have seen or heard him. When I was thirteen, walking through the woods behind my parent's house with Bobby Taylor and Mike Smith, we heard him. He doesn't squeal like a pig on tv, He grunts and snorts, real scary stuff. We just ran, man, but we knew it was him. We knew."

If you're ever in Effingham, stop in for one of DeWinter's IPAs (that's India Pig Ale) or a Ghost Pig Porter, just make sure if you hear anything in the woods, you run away. You don't want to come face to face with the Ghost Pig of Effingham.

Stay safe out there, Maine (and New Hampshire)! 

School's Out

Listen up, Believers! Some readers in the Southern Maine region have informed me of something we need to pass on to you. Supposedly there's an abandoned school hidden in the woods somewhere between Sanford and the New Hampshire border. The story goes that there's a ghost that haunts the old school. It's supposedly the spirit of the old PRINCIPAL. No one really knows who this guy is and no real records of him can be found, but he's had a HAND in several reported hauntings in the area.

Two of our loyal viewers confirmed this is real. They even sent along some pictures of the old school. It's quite a hike into the woods, but if you're up for an adventure, you can find it. They reported that the air inside the old principal's office felt cold, and they heard an eerie laugh float through the abandoned halls.  

Be aware, as is always the case at Malevolent Maine we are not responsible for any bodily or spiritual harm that may come from your visiting any of the haunted sites we report on. You're entering at your own risk and any possessions, hauntings, or emotional damage done is on your own head. Please, stay safe out there, Maine.

Abandoned school in Southern Maine

MMer, Dan (Last name redacted) claims he felt a presence in this classroom.

"This is where we heard that creepy laugh," says MMer, Susan Crennel.

Unanswered Questions - December 2020

 

Welcome back to some more unanswered questions, MMers!

• Who is at the bottom of the old well on the abandoned farm in Chesterville? More importantly, why have they kept screaming "Tenon?" for the past twenty years?

If you hear, "Tenon!" coming from the bottom of a well... run!

• Why will Cobbie, the sea monster living in Cobbosseecontee Lake, only show itself at dusk?

• When is it okay to call the feds about aliens invaders? After the first visit? The second? The third? The Herrins out of Patten are on visit #4!

Fifth time's the charm?

• What lived under the bed in Caleb Clover's room? And why did it move to Lucas Cruz's? Has anyone seen Caleb lately?

• Where exactly is that fountain of youth in the Bethel area? Asking for a friend.

• How do you drive a vampire off your property after you accidentally let him in? Lots of garlic, crosses, holy water, and a blessing or two from the local priest doesn't hurt, according to Norman Reed of Brighton.

No visitors or vampires!

Stay safe out there, Maine!

Midnight Mansion

Off the beaten path in Hallowell, Maine sits a mansion, now well past its prime. MMer Willy took care of the place for a few winters around fifteen years ago. The owner had passed away even before Willy took over as winter caretaker, but the family kept paying for someone to stay there in the winter months, just to keep the pipes from freezing and animals from chewing on the wiring.

Willy thought it was a pretty sweet gig he had going, he was given a food budget, got to spend time in the big house all by himself, and all he had to do was little maintenance tasks to get paid. The house wasn’t in the best shape however, even when Willy took over he realized it would need larger renovations than what he was capable of, and every time he talked to the owners he brought that up, but they refused to do anything major.

The strange part comes in when Willy would wake up in the middle of the night for a snack, a glass of water, or a refreshing mint. As he would walk toward the kitchen, every part of the house that the moonlight hit as it streamed in through the arched windows would look brand new. The faded wallpaper would look vibrant in the silver light, the scuffed tables and chairs looked freshly stained and polyed, the dusty threadbare rugs would be lush. It was strange but he always chalked it up to bad eyes, and his evening double whiskey or three. He never saw anything else strange, but every once in a while he would catch a drift of music throughout the house, some bop from the 50’s he couldn’t recognize.

Willy says the mansion is still there today but it wouldn’t be safe to enter it. He left his job as winter caretaker when the ceiling of one of the rooms on the third floor collapsed, and the family refused to spend money on having it fixed.

Not the actual Mansion, Willy wouldn't share a picture or a specific location

While it would be fascinating to see this midnight transformation in person, we would suggest that no one look for or enter this mansion as it is falling apart, and would be dangerous for anyone to explore. Stay safe out there, Maine!

Lady in the Closet

There is no sweeter story than a young couple buying a new home to fix it up and make it a wonderful place to raise a family. Until they find out that the house has an unwelcome presence within it! This is what happened to Jessica and David Smith when they bought what they thought would be their forever home, up in Caribou. 

Jess and David were high school sweethearts, both are very religious, and before dealing with the being in their house they didn’t believe in the supernatural at all! It started simply enough with their dog Barney, a great pyrenees being uneasy with the closet in their spare bedroom. First he would just stare at the door, then eventually he would begin growling, and it got to the point he would bark at it almost constantly. 

“It was super weird,” Jess said. “Barney was always such a sweet dog, before we moved he never barked at all. Now he wouldn’t stop barking, until the day he came limping up to David with a bloody paw. We don’t know how it happened but he avoided the closet from then on and would not make a peep when he was near it.”  

But the weirdness doesn’t stop there. Eventually Jess would walk by the spare bedroom and she would hear scratching noises from within the closet. “I went in there, flung the door open and all over the inside there were little crosses scratched into the drywall. I called David and asked if he was pranking me, but he was just as shocked as I was. I avoided the spare room from then on, but sometimes I would wake up at night and David wouldn’t be in bed, so I began to get suspicious. I bought a little baby monitor camera and set it up across from the closet, to see what was going on. On certain nights David would go into the room and stand in front of the closet door, then the door would slowly open on its own and I would catch just a brief glimpse of a young girl with long dark hair. David would go into the closet and stay there almost until dawn.”

Eventually Jess tells us that David started acting even more strangely, his normal talkative self gave way to a quiet and serious person that Jess hardly recognized. She decided that it was the Lady in the Closet affecting David in some way. She contacted the pastor at her church who put her in touch with a priest who specialized in exorcisms. Jess didn’t want to talk about the exorcism too much but she said as the Lady in the Closet was forced out in the open she saw a figure with long dark hair in a white dress with long claws on her fingers. David recovered after the exorcism and the couple quickly put the house on the market, and moved away before the house even sold. 

Whatever this phenomenon was, a ghost, a demon, a crazy woman, the fact remains that this couple went through hell, but came out alive, and that is all that matters. If you are up in Caribou and notice a house for sale, maybe give that one a pass. Stay safe out there, Maine!

The Whet One

Good Afternoon, MMers! Today’s story comes from up in Kennebec County. As I’m sure you know, lakes are incredibly prominent in our state, and Kennebec is no different. Even though it’s known for lakes like Messalonksee, and even the mouthful that is Cobbosseecontee, we recently heard a story about a lake that isn’t on any official map. And while we aren’t cartographers here at Malevolent Maine, we wanted to find more information. 

So, Tom and Lucas decided to trek up to Winthrop to meet with Barry Doldorff, a life timer up “theyah.” Barry was the man who contacted us about the strange experience he had while riding around local trails on his four-wheeler. We apologize in advance for the way the dialogue is written, but we wanted to get the tone of the conversation as accurately as possible.

“So you were riding...and then what?” asked Lucas.

“Well I was ridin’ pretty quick on em trails up heyah, and I’ll tell you what. I was passin’ through the normal areas and seein’ the lakes and the ponds ayuh. But I swear to Jesus, I couldn’t friggin believe what I saw when I whipped ‘er around Jackson’s Bend. It was a lake, and I ain’t never seen a lake there before. I thought I was havin’ one of those....what’s that called?"

“A hallucination?”

“Yeah! A halcyonation, or whatevah. Seens I never seen that lake before, and I might've been seein' stuff, I decided to hightail to back into town to get my buddy, Donny Smith. 'Donny!' I screams at the top of my lungs. 'Donny, get your ass out heyah!' Well, you see Donny has a bit of a drinkin' problem and he was passed out on the couch. Luckily for me, the back door was open I was able to go right inna'"

"So, you were able to get Donny to wake up for his stupor?"

"Yeah morealess. I went right inna kitchen and grabbed some cold water fromma faucet. Threw it right on Donny's face. It was 3PM for Chrissakes, and the sonuvabitch was drunk as a friggn' skunk! Well, anyways, I got em up and got em on my back of my wheelah, Donny couldn't ride himself as he was smashed two ways from Wednesday."

"So you got back to the lake, and then what?"

"NOTHIN'! Friggin' nothin'. I went right around Jackson's Bend just like before, but there wasn't nothing theyah. Then Donny got real mouthy about me getting him wet and forcing him to come out heyah with me, so I brought him back before he got reaaal friggin' mad."

"But you said that you saw a creature? That it come from the lake?"

"Oh yuh, but that was aftah. You see after I brought Donny back, I went back to my double-wide and opened up a bottle of Jimmy Beam I got down at the Hannafahds. Well, I bet I bout drank halfa bottle before passin' out on the couch."

"But then you saw something?"

"Friggin' right I did! Right around 2:45 AM I hear something inna kitchen. I was like a slippery slidey sound. By the time I got up and went in and got the light on I couldn't see nothing except for my floor was all wet, like someone just moppedah up real good. Then I got my flashlight and whet out the back door and I was shinin' it on my shed. Now I may have been halcyonating again, but I swear I seens like a man-fish or something. I tried to follow it, but I was too drunk to get on the wheelah, so I went back inna house and locked every lock I got. Next mornin' I woke up with a real killah headache, but that ain't stop me from goin' right back to Jackson's Bend, and there it friggin' was again! Except this time there were lily pads all ovah the place, and there was even a sign nailed to a tree. It said 'Whet Lake.' But not not 'wet' like watah, it was spelled W-H-E-T. Well I decided to walk right up to the watah line and see what was what. I ain't never heard of no 'Whet Lake,' and it sure as hell wasn't heyah when I brought Donny by. I walked right upta water and then I saw some lily pads move. It was like somethin' was under em startin' to come up. Well, I didn't wait much longah. I got right back on my wheelah and started movin'. But then I hear somethin'. It was like a child screechin' but it pierced through my head - I fell offa my rig and it slowly came to a stop by a tree on the side of the trail. I turned around when it stopped and there it was. The friggin' fish-man was staring at me with red eyes and all. I got right back up and got on my wheelah. I heard the scream again but I braced myself and rode as hahd and fast as I could, ya know?"

"Have you gone back since?"

"Frig no! No way. I ain't goin; back theyah. That's why I contacted you guys! I heard about you from my Nephew, Tylah. He's inna that weird intahnet stuff, and I figured why not?"

Well, MMers, we decided that it was time for us to see this "Whet Lake" for ourselves. Instead of riding out on a ATV, we decided to approach Jackson's Bend on foot as quietly as possible. When we arrived at the supposed spot of the lake, we were disappointed, but not surprised, to see nothing there but trees. We looked around for a bit, but there was nothing special of note, until Lucas pointed out something that he found about 50 feet off of the trail. It was a sign, worn down from the elements for many years. Even in its current state, we were still able to manage to figured out what the sign said. "Whet Lake."

While we aren't sure how this sign got there or if a lake could have ever have been located where the trees are now, we'd be willing to bet that this experience wasn't simply a hallucination by Barry, or a "halcyonation," as he would so eloquently put it.

If you are even out on the trails in or around Winthrop and come around Jackson's Bend, keep a close eye out for "Whet Lake," and whatever monster dwells within. Stay safe out there, Maine!

Is this the "Whet One" Barry Saw?