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.

Missing in Acadia

A lot of the stories we write about on Malevolent Maine are pretty dark, but this one is spooky for a lot of different reasons. So be warned, MMers, this one may disturb you.

Maine is a beautiful state with many scenic places to go visit. There are thirty-two state parks in Maine. There's only one National Park however: Acadia National Park. Our story starts there, but as we soon found out, it didn't end there. 

Acadia National Park, on Mount Desert Island

On June 12th, 2003, seven year old Nicholas Adams disappeared from his campsite. Nicholas was camping with his parents, Jim and Robin, and his aunt and uncle, Cathy and Sam Ferguson, and their two children, Billy, 6, and Amanda, 9. They were staying at the Blackwoods campground in Acadia National Park, hiking, swimming, and enjoying nature. 

Nicholas Adam, 2003

The kids were playing together while the parents relaxed around a small campfire. It was about three o'clock in the afternoon and they had recently come back from a hike. The kids were playing hide and seek with one another. Nicholas was the "seeker" and both of his cousins could hear him coming through the woods just behind the campsite.

Little Nicholas never found his cousins, and soon afterward, they both gave up and trudged back to the campsite, complaining about their cousin. Soon after the adults began to worry. They quickly searched the area around the campsite, shouting for Nicholas. They called 911 and Search and Rescue teams were soon dispatched. Over one hundred people searched for three days with no sign of Nicholas. Bloodhounds got two different scent trails but both of them led nowhere. Nicholas had vanished.

He remained missing until just last week. For eighteen years no trace of Nicholas Adams was ever discovered. There were no scraps of clothing, no bone fragments, nothing to indicate Nicholas had ever even been in the area. That changed last week when on July 19th hikers discovered some remains on Sargent Mountain, about six miles away from Blackwoods campground. The hikers found the remains in a rocky area, a stretch of the mountain that is quite steep and a moderately difficult climb.

They found one of Nicholas's sneakers partially hidden by a rock, the torn remains of his pants, and a single human tooth. Forensic scientists are still working to determine whether the tooth belongs to Nicholas Adams, but there is no denying the clothing is his: his initials had been written on both the tag of his pants and his sneaker. There were no traces of blood or DNA on the clothing. There is also very little wear and tear on the clothes. They do not look like they have been sitting on the side of a mountain for the past eighteen years.

The investigation remains ongoing and we'll update you as we learn more.

In our research for this blog post, we uncovered some interesting statistics. Every year in Maine about one hundred people go missing. California, on the other hand, leads the nation with over 2,000. The Adams disappearance isn't the first case of a missing person in Acadia National Park. There have been two other missing persons cases from Maine's only National Park and both of, though separated by over fifty years with Nicholas Adams' disappearance are strangely similar.

On August 20, 1983, three year old Bret Walker disappeared while hiking Cadillac Mountain with his parents. They were taking an easy trail, not taking the hike too seriously, just going as far as they thought they could with little Bret. At one point, both parents took their eyes off their son, just for a minute or two. They soon realized Brett was gone. Again, a search was conducted, no trace of Brett Walker was found. His parents were considered prime suspects but were later cleared by police. Bloodhounds were called in and led rescuers to a certain section of Cadillac Mountain, but then would go no further. According to reports, both hounds laid down on the ground and whimpered. They had to be dragged off the mountain. No trace of Bret Walker was ever found.

Anthony Stearns, right, 1956

Again, in July of 1956, five year old Anthony Stearns went missing while fishing with his grandfather near Bubble Pond. As with the other cases, Anthony simple disappeared. A fisherman several yards from where Anthony and his grandfather, Michael Stearns were fishing, told police that he saw the boy right around the time he disappeared. He didn't have any fishing gear and he asked the man if there were any bears in these woods before walking off in the opposite direction from where he had come from. That man was the last known person to see Anthony alive. An extensive search and rescue operation was undertaken, with over fifty volunteers combing the area where the boy was last seen. Nine months later, Anthony's body was discovered two miles from the shore where he had been fishing, in an area that would have proven difficult for a five year old to climb to, but one that had been searched multiple times by the rescuers. There was no apparent cause of death - Anthony had sustained no injuries of any kind. The National Parks Service deemed his death an attack by a mountain lion, though there was never any strong evidence of this.

Allan Dwight (middle) in 1995 with cousins after his rescue

There was one other case we found while doing our research and this is the one that began to turn us onto this really being a Malevolent Maine story our readers would want to know about. This one is pretty similar to the other three. In 1994, Allan Dwight went missing while hiking with his parents on Pemetic Mountain. Fairly similar to Bret Walker, in '83, his parents' attention drifted away for a moment or two and they realized that Allan was no longer behind them. They began a frantic search involving the park service and local authorities. Thirty hours later he was discovered, alive, tired and hungry, a mile and a half from where he had first gone missing in difficult terrain that would have proved all but impossible to a child. Again, this was a place rescuers had scoured earlier.

When asked what happened, Allan Dwight told police that he had seen someone who looked like his grandfather who had told the boy to follow him. They hiked off the path for what felt likes miles tot he boy until they came to a cave or a room of some kind, Allan wasn't quite sure. The boy claimed there were machines all over the floor that looked to him like, "broken spaceships or robots" and he saw weapons on the walls, though when pressed for more information about these weapons or what they were, he could provide no other information. 

He claimed that inside the cave or room the person he thought was his grandfather turned to him, and now his eyes began to glow, "like there was a lightbulb inside his head." The boy realized the person wasn't his grandfather and started to get scared. He claims the man told him not to worry, that he had been chosen, and that "though he had grown in his mother's womb, he was not destined for this world." Those are exact words that five year old Allen Dwight told investigators, not the typical fare for five year old boys in the 90s. 

Furthermore, Allan told police that the man had placed his hands on Allan's shoulders and squeezed really hard. That was the last thing Allan remembered and when he woke up he was alone in the woods just before he was discovered by the rescuers. Allan did have scratches of some kind on his shoulders, but investigators believe it was from a tree or a branch or perhaps something that Allan climbed beneath.

Police determined that Allan's grandfather, who was along on the trip but had remained back in the campsite, could be ruled out as a potential suspect. The grandfather had been in the camp the entire time, talking with someone in the neighboring campsite. Though he did tell investigators that the night before Allan went missing he had gotten up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. He said he felt a man's hand clamp down on his neck and whisper something in his ear, though he couldn't understand the words. Then he was gone. The grandfather assumed it was just someone who had too much to drink, but he did have a bruise on the back of his neck.

So what is stalking young children in Acadia National Park? Could it be a coincidence? Over active imagination and wild animals? Could it be purely human predators? Perhaps, but here's where things get even darker.

It turns out that hundreds of people, most of them young children, go inexplicably missing from National Parks each year. In fact, there are over 10,000 unsolved missing persons cases just from National Parks all over the country, places that many consider to be safe, family-friendly places, maintained by the U.S. government. Many of the stories are similar to the ones we uncovered from Acadia. Some eerily so. Researcher David Paulides, in his book series, Missing 411 (of which at least documentaries have also been made), details many of these cases. In fact, the disappearance of Bret Walker is documented in his book, Missing 411: Eastern United States. These books are a little hard to come by, but any intrepid researchers can find them on Amazon, though be prepared to pay a hefty price.

In many of these cases, including the ones here in Maine, the police seem cagey, almost flippant about their investigations. They seem to latch on to the simplest theory and run with it, despite lack of evidence to corroborate said theories. Often times in these cases the FBI or the military is called in to help with an investigation. These are duties regularly scheduled for National Guardsmen, but in plenty of these cases armed active Green Berets have been called in. What might these authorities know that they're not saying?

As Paulides alludes to in his books, it appears that something paranormal may be preying upon children in our National Parks. Could it be that something has been here, maybe has always been here and that it or they roam our National Parks, occasionally taking children for some nefarious purpose? Perhaps - and this is pure speculation on our parts, here - perhaps that is why the National Parks were first established, as a way to contain and track whatever it is that is taking the children.

What is taking children at our National Parks?

Sobering thoughts, MMers. To date, the National Parks Service does not maintain a list of missing persons, something repeatedly called for by the families of the missing. Perhaps if the data were readily available, people might reconsider their next family vacation.

Stay safe out there, Maine.

Cranberry Bog Boys

 

Heads up, MMers! Rumors have it, there's a cranberry bog over in Turner with quite a malevolent history. Now, we couldn't quite find an exact street address for these bogs, but it shouldn't be too hard to find them if you're willing to risk a look. We're not sure we recommend that, and maybe after reading this you won't either.

First, cranberries grow in wetlands called marshes or bogs. A bog is layered gravel, peat, and sand that gathers and collects water. Cranberries grow a lot like strawberries except in a bog instead of soil. These aren't typically deep, maybe three feet. You've probably seen the juice commercials with the guys standing up to their hips in the bog. From a distance it can look like a field of red berries, and you might not even realize until it's too late that it's actually water.

Anatomy of a cranberry bog

Leo Guerin, a longtime resident of Turner actually contacted us about this story. Guerin is 77, a retired machine fabricator who worked forty-two years at Pratt & Whitney. An amateur gardener and somewhat of a local historian, Guerin heard about the cranberry bog boys when he was a teenager. We met him for a few beers at the local Elks Lodge in Auburn, where he shared with us the story.

Leo Guerin, local historian

"When I was eighteen I joined the Elks," he told us. "This was 1962. You could drink at eighteen back then.When I joined there were a lot of veterans, the guys who had fought in World War II, who came in here for drinks after work or on a Sunday afternoon after church. I was too young for the Big One and because I broke my hip in a skiing accident I wasn't eligible for Vietnam, but I loved hearing those stories. They're the ones that got me into history. Local history, see? Because no one ever knew those stories. Some of those guys, those vets, are the ones I heard about the Bog Boys from. Thats' what they called them. Bog Boys."

The creature they called a Bog Boy is a humanoid being, but it appears to be covered in layers of mud and ooze, as if it has just emerged from a muddy swamp or puddle. Bits of sticks and plants cling to them. Their faces are partially concealed by the ooze, but they appear to have eyes of some sort and their mouths continually yawn open as if searching for something. They are slow moving, but relentless. Guerin claims they are easy to outrun if you know where you're going, but its easy get turned around out in the woods around the cranberry bogs.

The cover of Goosebumps #15: You Can't Scare Me. Makes you wonder if
R. L. Stone or artist,Tim Jacobus had heard the legends of the Cranberry Bog Boys.

"The old GIs told me that the first Bog Boy started showing up around 1947 or 48. Around that time a kid went missing. As near as I could determine it was either Tyler or Thomas Martin. I've seen conflicting reports. Anyways, they searched the whole town but there wasn't much they could do. Martin was eighteen, so a lot of people figured he up and moved."

But that's not what the GIs believed and it's not what Leo Guerin believes either. Guerin believes that Martin fell into the wild cranberry bog. Maybe he had been out drinking, maybe he just got turned around and lost, but Guerin believes he somehow fell into the bog and drowned. 

"Think about it, if you were disoriented and fell, the layers of peat and muck that would get kicked up, plus the tangle of cranberry plants, it would be enough to snarl you all up. Maybe hold you under just long enough to drown."

Why the police never found Tyler/Thomas Martin's body in the bog is a mystery, but by 1948 enough people had begun to see this so-called Bog Boy, that there was a brief investigation. The police turned up nothing of course, but some of the locals began to suspect something nefarious had happened. There started to be whispers that the ghost of the Martin boy had returned, mingled with all the muck of the bog. The stories went that he had gotten lost in the bog and was trying to find his way back home, not realizing he'd been dead for over a year. Not much came of the whispers and over time, sightings of the Bog Boy stopped and the story, like many local rumors, dried up.

By 1962, when Leo Guerin was old enough to drink at the Elks Lodge with the WWII veterans, rumblings of the story of the Bog Boy had begun again. That's because that year Ellis Saucier, the seventeen year old son of the local barber, had gone missing. Guerin says he knew Saucier who had been a few years younger than him in school.

Ellis Saucier, left, in 1962, the year of his disappearance

"He wasn't what you'd call an angel or a teacher's pet. I think the polite term is ne'er-do-well. Always getting into some kind of trouble, always looking for trouble, you know?"

The area was searched, including the bogs, but Saucier was never found. There was a rumor he had run off to Boston to join a gang, but there wasn't much evidence of that. In 1962, Bog Boy sightings had started up again, only now the stories claimed there were two of them.

"Every fifteen years, like clockwork," Guerin told us. There were several empty beer glasses on the table between us. "Every fifteen years another kid goes missing from town. The last one was back in 07. You might remember that one? Zachary Clarke? There was all that news coverage? And you know what? Right around that time the stories of the Bog Boys kicked back up again. There were four of them by then. Tyler Martin in '47, Ellis Saucier in '62, then Michael Coulombe in 1977, and Joshua Landry in '92. All of them young, between sixteen and nineteen. All of them missing, no trace ever found."

In 2007 Leo Gurein was 63, preparing for retirement. A lot of the veterans who had told him the story of the Bog Boy back in 1962 and passed away or were living their last few years in assisted living centers, but Guerin said there were still whispers of the Bog Boys. 

"I don't know how the story passed down from each generation. Parents telling their kids, I guess. Warning them about staying out of the woods at night, like a boogeyman, I suppose. But in '07, when the Clarke boy went missing, everyone started talking about Bog Boys again, and sure enough, the sightings increased. This time there was five of them."

The stories claim that if you encounter the Bog Boys to run as fast as you can. They're not terribly fast, but their open arms and yawning mouths are easy to get tangled in, especially now that there's a pack. The stories claim that if they catch you, they'll drag you back to the bog and pull you underneath the waters to lie with them until they rise again.

No one knows what exactly these Bog Boys are. The only pictures are blurry and can be written off as tricks of the light, strange angles, and active imagination. In recent years, and as technology has gotten more advanced, there is still no evidence of any bodies buried in the cranberry bogs. Still, the stories persist. Whether they are an elaborate prank or the actual ghosts of the missing boys, no one is sure. But Guerin is. 

"Oh, it's them, all right. The missing boys. The dead boys. They're angry they died or they don't want to be alone, or whatever, but it's them all right. I've got no doubts about that," he said, draining the last of his beer. We offered to pay for the drinks, but he waved us off. "I'm just happy to have someone to talk to. When my grandson told me about your website thing, I knew I had to reach out to you fellas. There aren't too many of us left that remember how this all started."

We left Leo Guerin soon after. He waved to us from the doorway of the Elks Lodge. As we pulled out of the parking lot, he went back inside and sat back down at the table where he had told us his story. We could see him order another beer.

A cranberry bog

We did some research into this story before writing this. Guerin's timelines does seem to check out. Tyler/Thomas Martin, Ellis Saucier, Michael Coulombe, Joshua Landry, and Zachary Clarke all went missing from the Turner area. No bodies were ever found, and no evidence of them turning up anywhere else has ever been presented. The youngest, Joshua Landry, was sixteen. Michael Coulombe was the oldest, just nineteen years old. To date their cases are unsolved, though every lead has since gone cold.

This does not take into consideration the many other missing peoples that have happened over the years. In the Turner area, just outside Auburn, there have been 46 missing persons since 1947. Their ages range from 6 to 81. Many of them are assumed to have moved for various reasons. The most infamous, was the Britney Redlon case from 1997. Britney was eight when she went missing under suspicious circumstances. Her father, Bradley Redlon was the prime suspect in her disappearance, though he refused to say anything. Many people believed Redlon killed and disposed of his daughter, though no case has ever been brought against him.

Still, the similarities in Guerin's stories are perhaps too much to discount. All five of the missing boy are around the same age. All of them were described as less than popular or well-liked. They were all, for lack of a better term, misfits with penchants for the kind of irritating trouble teenage boys find themselves in. Interestingly enough, they all came from broken homes.

We spoke with several people who have claimed to have encountered the Bog Boys at various times. Their stories are all different, different times of day, different years, different numbers of Bog Boys. The stories are consistent about several things - the appearance of the Bog Boys as moaning, mud-covered creatures with open arms and reaching arms, and the locations of all of these encounters. Everyone one of them has been around the cranberry bogs.

One last note, if the Bog Boys return every fifteen years to seek a new victim, 2022 would be fifteen years from Zachary Clarke's disappearance in 2007. If Leo Guerin is correct, that would mean that sightings of the Bog Boys should begin happening soon, and that any young man between sixteen and nineteen years old from Turner, should stay as far away from the cranberry bogs as possible.

Stay safe out there, Maine!

The Fury of the Moose Man

Happy Fourth of July, MMers! We hope you have a fun and safe weekend. It's been a trying year for many of us MMers, and we're not out of the woods yet, but this weekend, we'd like to remember the freedoms we do have and be thankful for those. With that in mind, we thought we'd present you with a story set during the time of the American Revolution.

Happy 4th of July, MMers!

Maine did not play a large part of the Revolutionary War, mainly due to its distance from both Boston and the Continental Congress in Philadelphia, and most of the action seen in this area were naval battles. The British did burn the city of Portland (back then called Falmouth) in October in 1775. Aside from this there were very few land skirmishes. Our story involves a rather infamous figure in early American history: Benedict Arnold. 

Benedict Arnold

Arnold is most famous, of course, for betraying the Americans, becoming the ultimate turncoat, and joining the British. Benedict Arnold wrote his name forever in the history books in 1779, but before that he was actually a well-respected general, and an early hero of Revolution. In 1775 he was ordered by George Washington himself to lead a 1,100 man expedition up through Maine en route to Quebec to attack the British stronghold there. The mission turned out to be somewhat of a failure as Arnold arrived in Quebec with just half the men he started with and his force was unable to take the city from the British. That's not exactly what makes this a Malevolent Maine story. 

See, Arnold and his troops were laid up for almost a month at the Great Carrying Place, in modern day Caratunk, Maine (just south of The Forks, on Route 201) where they planned to cross from the Kennebec River to the Dead River. There, disaster after disaster struck Arnold's men. A boat carrying supplies capsized and was lost. A "formidable number" of the men suddenly grew sick and died. A hurricane struck from October 19-21. Suddenly, it seemed like Benedict Arnold, who had become something of a hero up until this point, had suddenly run out of luck.

Then there were the stories of the Moose Man. Over forty reports of this strange apparition were reported by Arnold's men, including his second in command, Daniel Morgan, and the leader of the scouting part, Lieutenant Archibald Steele. All of the reports were similar enough that it is hard to discount them.

They all describe a figure somewhere between seven and eight feet tall, dressed in ragged torn clothing, possibly robes. The figure was described as thin to the point of emaciation, and his ribs could be seen through his torn clothing. He was described as having long fingers that seemed to be jointed in several extra places or, according to some reports, at odd angles. Where the man's head should have been was a moose skull. 

The Moose Man of the Dead River

The Moose Man, as they began calling the apparition, would appear to soldiers while they hunted the woods. At night it could be seen drifting between the trees on the outskirts of the camp. At first the Moose Man only observed the soldiers, disappearing when it was noticed, but as the men became more entrenched in the area, it began appearing more and more frequently.

"[It] brought a great sickness," Daniel Morgan wrote in a letter sent back home to the Continental Army headquarters. "Where the strange creature walked, disease followed. None of our medicines or treatments could cure the sickness, which began with crimson spots along the neck and face. These turned to blood and a thick, congestive cough. We lost a formidable number of men to the contagion the Moose Man spread among us."

Historians believe somewhere between 100 and 150 men died from this strange disease, which to this day has no rational explanation.

Arnold's scouts had forgotten to take into account how the terrain conditions would be impacted by rain and winter run off, and so the fifteen mile trek from Kennebec to Dead River became a slog. During the day, the men struggled portaging the boats and supplies, and night the Moose Man began raiding their camps. 

One soldier, Lieutenant Church told of how the Moose Man would come into their camps at night, in the darkest hours, and begin tearing the place apart, ripping through tents and men alike. Several reports emerged of corpses left behind, their heads and spines removed, never to be recovered. Another fifty or so men were believed to be killed in the raids by the Moose Man.

Arnold ordered the creature, who he believed to be a native, to be hunted and brought to justice. Several parties went out into the woods, only one returned. Of the ten man team, two of the soldiers returned, both with grave injuries. They were incoherent, speaking only of the, "thing things that moves beyond the trees." One of the men succumbed to his injuries, the other never recovered his sanity and was sent back to the military base at Skowhegan, where he would eventually take his own life in 1780. 

Was the freak hurricane natural 
or was it caused by the Moose Man?

It was the freak hurricane, rare of that part of the state that complete broke the morale of Arnold's troops. On October 18th, the scouting party, led by Lieutenant Archibald Steele encountered what they believed to be a camp of the Moose Man. They found a small fire pit surrounded by several large stones, some reaching five or six feet high. Atop each of these stones a blackened, burned skull had been set. Strange symbols had been drawn onto the stones with a sticky black substance and even the ground, soft earth, was covered with markings drawn into.

"I have never seen anything like it in all my days," Steele wrote in a report back to Arnold. "Bones and sticks arranged in a strange manner. Skulls looked at us with empty eyes. No way to indicate if these were our soldiers or not, but several of my men believed so."

That morning the men awoke to a steady rain which only intensified. By evening, it had turned into a full hurricane. Rain and wind lashed the men. There were reports of half inch hail. Trees were uprooted around the men. One man died when a tree fell directly onto him, snapped in half by a gust of wind. Today, experts estimate the hurricane that struck Arnold's men was a Category 3, with maximum sustained wind speeds of 111-130 mph. 

Several men reported seeing the Moose Man at the height of the storm, illuminated for brief seconds by flashes of lightning, fists raised to the heavens. 

By the time the storm finally blew away on October 21, many more of Arnold's men were dead. Over four hundred men decided that they had had enough. They deserted Arnold, returning back to Boston by way of Augusta and points south. The remaining men redoubled their efforts. They hardly slept, instead moving as rapidly as they could, determined to leave the cursed area behind them. 

When the less than 600 of the men who had set out with Arnold from Boston finally arrived on the outskirts of Quebec on October 30, they were weak and starved. Many men were marching with injuries they could not rightly explain. Several others were sick with unknown diseases. They had not slept in several days and complained of haunting calls in the night and a tall, shadowy figure that stalked them. 

The battle for Quebec was ultimately lost - the Continental forces were woefully unprepared for the fortifications of the British. Benedict Arnold was wounded and Daniel Morgan taken captive. Many of the soldiers who survived the battle, retired soon after, claiming the horrors not of the battle, but of the 350 mile trek through the Maine wilderness had been too much. Arnold, of course, would famously go on to be instrumental in the Battles of Saratoga before ultimately defecting to the British.

What was the strange Moose Man the troops encountered in the wilderness? Was it an angry native? A vengeful spirit? Did it cause the mysterious illness and somehow summon an impossible hurricane? Or was it just a fictional scapegoat for a growing contingent of men who had grown tired of this failed expedition? 

The Moose Man has been seen for hundreds of years

Reports of the Moose Man have persisted over the the two hundred and fifty years since Arnold's men encountered it. Many have claimed to see the Moose Man just on the edge of their vision, peering out from behind a tree or rock. Several people have claimed to have been chased by the apparition, and one hiker claims the Moose Man killed his companion, though the man was later found guilty of the murder. Still, none of been as much a victim of the Moose Man's rage as Benedict Arnold and the men of his unfortunate mission.

So, if you're in the area of Caratunk and the Dead River, stay safe out there, Maine.

My Daughter the Telekinetic

Calling all MMers, we have a reader who needs our help! Everett from Saco has written to us that his daughter has been exhibiting some strange phenomenon.  Everett says that his daughter Clara is three years old and for the first couple years of her life everything was completely normal, but lately some strange things have been happening in their home. 

Who wouldn't want some Oreos?

We called Everett and he told us his concerns, “The first time I noticed it was with the cookies. We keep the sweets up high so she can’t sneak any, I mean this shelf is up there, my wife has to stand on a chair to reach it. And one day I just see Clara walking around non-chalantly with this huge family pack of Oreos. We know she didn’t climb on a chair because…”  Everetts wife Vicky who was listening on the line as well piped up at this moment. “We know she didn’t climb because not only would she not be able to reach the shelf by standing on the counter but to even get on the counter she would need to pull a chair into the kitchen all the way from the dining room. And when we moved we specifically bought heavy oak chairs so the kids couldn’t move them around too easily.” 

“But the cookies were just the first thing, I brushed if off, maybe the cat had knocked them down or something. But last week during our bedtimes after we had read a few books I kissed Clara goodnight and shut the light off and closed her door gently. As soon as the door was closed the light popped back on. There is no way she instantaneously got out of bed, ran over to the light and flicked them on. She had to have done it from her bed.” 

At this point Everett and Vicky got quiet, and I heard a sniff over the line as if someone was trying not to cry. “So you think she has some sort of ability that lets her move things with her mind?” “Yes,” Vicky said. “She seems to have some sort of telekinesis, we had to look it up, the word for it I mean. Its a rare thing but according to a few Facebook groups I found, it is possible.” 

What is the human mind capable of?

Everett took a deep breath and then said “We were just hoping you could put this on your blog, so maybe some other readers could see it and spread the word, or even if one of them knows how to deal with this sort of thing, you could put us in contact with them? We love Clara to death, but this kind of ability is terrifying, we just want to make sure she has a normal life, and to do that we have to figure out what to do with this thing.”

If you or anyone you know has any sort of experience or expertise with psychic abilities or telekinesis please write to us here at Malevolent Maine and we will pass on your contact information to this distraught family. We need you MMers, stay safe out there, Maine!

Beware the Portly Man

As we near the summer months and the tourists begin to arrive, I feel the need to remind you all of the strange encounters many people have had over the years with the Portly Man. Each summer at least one or two people, native Mainers and tourists alike, report long unwilling roadtrips with a rather rotund, older gentleman. Whatever this being is, they don't seem to be malevolent, everyone even though they don't agree to go on the trip reports having a grand ol' time. However they are gone for days or even weeks at a time and at the complete mercy of the Portly Man. They say he takes them to wine tastings, art exhibits, small arthouse plays, and antique shops. Once he has had his fill of their company the Portly man often drops them off somewhere in the Old Port, and they soon regain their faculties and find their way home. Most people are uninjured and genuinely feel a strong connection to the old man, but they never see him again.

So if you are are spending your summer vacation in Maine this year please be aware of the strange danger/opportunity the Portly Man represents. He will not harm you but you will be away from friends, and family for an undetermined amount of time, while he takes you on his little adventure. If you would like to avoid the Portly Man, these are the types of locations he typically appears at:

1. Amateur Plays (Schools, Small Productions)
2. Yard Sales
3. Breweries and Wine Tastings
4. Portland Museum of Art (and other similar locations)
5. Antique Stores and Pawn Shops

An artists rendition of the Portly Man

The vehicle the Portly Man drives

Stay safe out there, Maine, avoid the Portly Man, unless you feel like having the trip of a lifetime!

The Pamola

Broccoli field in Northern Maine

Raul is a fairly accomplished hunter and outdoorsman, he's hunted all over the state of Maine and even taken several trips out west to hunt various game out there. Never in his life has he seen anything like what he saw on a grey Tuesday afternoon last October. Raul was out in the broccoli fields of northern Maine, he had discovered several years ago that it was where moose liked to spend a lot of time, and that was exactly what he was after.

It was getting towards dusk and Raul just wasn’t having much luck, he had seen a small bull but he really wanted to fill his freezer this year. But just as he was about to give up he saw a pair of large tracks leading into a nearby thicket of saplings. He quickly followed them, but as he did an uneasy feeling settled into the pit of his stomach, something wasn’t right about these footprints. The pattern of the footfalls was wrong for a moose, whatever this creature was, it only walked on two legs. Raul laughed to himself and was fairly certain another moose hunter was pranking him, or maybe these fake hoofprints were meant to steer novice hunters away from the prime real estate. Either way Raul felt like he had been duped. 

But luck still seemed to be on his side, he heard something large rusting through the brush nearby and when he looked up he saw the large antlers of a moose weaving in and out of the saplings just up ahead. The antlers were pretty high up and had a great spread, Raul guessed it was big enough to fill a couple freezers, and he began to stalk the beast, until he could get a good broadside shot on it. 

There was a clearing in the thicket as it opened into the path to the broccoli field and Raul hoped that the big bastard would wander its way out there. He kneeled down near the end of the thicket and got ready for when the moose made its exit. What he saw next was unexpected. There was the head, large, black eyed, with a towering set of antlers. But attached to that head was the long gangly torso and legs of a human man. Out of the back of this creature their sprouted two long blackish brown protrusions that hung limp all the way down to its knees. To the top of its antlers the creature was probably close to nine feet tall. 

A tattoo design based on the Pamola

Raul held his breath, lowered his rifle, and waited for the thing to pass. “It was the most uncomfortable thing I have ever seen, it was unnatural, I don’t know how many times I made the sign of the cross after it left” Raul said. “As much as I wanted to forget it, I couldn’t, I remembered its black eyes, I remembered it swaying back and forth as it walked, I remember those dead things sticking out of its back. I still dream about seeing it, and everytime I wake up in a cold sweat.” Raul’s obsession led to him researching sightings of this creature, and slowly he remembered his time in the boy scouts, when he and his troop had climbed Mt. Katahdin. “We climbed up Pamola Peak, and I remember as we stopped for water one of the dad’s told us all about this ancient Abenaki myth about a man with the head of a moose and the wings of an eagle. It was a Pamola, an ancient guardian of the land. I don’t know if what I saw in the woods was it, or some creepy imitation, but I don’t want to see it ever again.”

We did some research and we confirmed the mythology behind this sighting. It is in fact an Abenaki legend, although it is usually tied to the area around Mt. Katahdin, and where Raul sighted the creature was quite a few miles away from there. There is also the fact that the creature Raul saw had no wings, or at the very least its wings had decayed past the point of use. 

Either way, be on the lookout for the Pamola, and stay safe out there Maine!

Ticks, Black Flies, and Witches, OH MY!

It's getting to be that season MMers, ticks and black flies are out in full force. But are the pests accosting you just part of the natural season cycle or are you being targeted by disgruntled neighbors, coworkers, or ex’s? Reports have reached us here at Malevolent Maine that there is a coven of witches operating somewhere in Southern Maine. This coven in order to make enough money to pay for exotic supplies is taking orders for hex totems that draw pests such as ticks and black flies to unsuspecting homes. 

What a totem could look like

We interviewed someone who was a new potential member of this coven who ultimately decided against joining. She told us her name was Talia, but also said that wasn’t her real name. “Well I’ve always been super into the occult and alternative lifestyles, but once I was actually in with these people I realized how weird they were.” Talia told us about strange initiation rituals where they had to kill small animals such as squirrels and rabbits, and make trinkets and totems out of their bones. “It was pretty icky” she said, “I was really uncomfortable the whole time, but some of the other people were really into it.” Some of these totems would then be used to hold the hexes that bring pests down on unsuspecting people.  

What a totem could look like

The leader of this coven was known simply as the Betrothed. “When I asked why she was called that, I was told it was the highest title of the coven. It meant she was like literally engaged to marry the devil, like satan you know? And that sketched me out.” Talia said that after a few weeks she started trying to figure out how to get out of the group. “Eventually I told them that I couldn’t participate anymore because my dad was sick. He wasn’t, but it was the only way I could figure out how to get out of all that. They offered to heal him but it would take more than a few little animals, but I declined.” 

Talia says that if you are experiencing any sort of curse or hex be sure to look around your home/property for small totems made of sticks or bones, tied with hair or strips of leather. This is most likely the source of the misfortune befalling you. She also warns against joining any sort of occult group “It seems fun at first, and sometimes you feel powerful, but eventually they will ask you to do something you aren’t comfortable with. It isn’t worth it.”  

Check your house for these totems, avoid occult groups, and stay safe out there, Maine!

First Crinkle Face Sighting in Maine

Sorry to start the week with such bad news, but we at Malevolent Maine have been informed that the nationwide phenomenon known as Crinkle Face has made its first appearance in Maine. A University of Maine student returning from Spring Break has been taken to a mental health facility in Augusta after experiencing symptoms of the Crinkle Face Phenomenon. For those of you who are unaware, Crinkle Face is a phenomenon of unknown origin, it easily spreads from person to person, and eventually causes a psychotic break down which can lead to violent behavior. The person infected begins to see their reflection in a distorted way (we will include an artists interpretation below), then they begin to see others the same way, until eventually they snap and commit heinous crimes. It is unknown if the student at the university spread Crinkle Face to anyone else, but we will continue to monitor the situation.

Signs to be aware of if you think someone you know might be developing Crinkle Face:
1. Complaining about seeing odd things out of the corner of their eye
2. Avoiding mirrors or other reflective surfaces
3. Increased agitation or paranoia
4. Violent outbursts
5. Mutilation of their own face.

If anyone you know develops or displays any of the above symptoms please do not go near them and immediately report them to the authoritiies. Stay safe out there, Maine, don't get Crinkled!

Artist interpretation of what a person experiencing the Crinkle Face Phenomenon sees.

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.

In the Potato Fields

This story comes to us from a new MMer named Andrea who lives up in Aroostook County. She lives in a small town nestled in a bend of the St. John River. Her family has always been potato farmers, and they plant fields upon fields of them every year. However she was always warned by her grandmother never to go out into the fields during the nights leading up to harvest. Andrea told us that she listened to her grandmother for most of her life and avoided the fields, until her teenage years when she and her friends stayed out just a little too late one night.

As they covered what was left of their bonfire for the night, Andrea parted ways with her friends and began to walk home through the potato rows. The moon was just bright enough for her to avoid tripping if she walked slowly. On her way home she was met with a whistling shriek, she stopped in her tracks as small shadows skittered in and around her legs. She panicked and began to run, more shrieks errupted as she ran. She stumbled and landed face first in a large mound of potatoes that had been freshly dug up. As she scrambled to pick herself up her hand found what felt like a potato but it had a strange leathery outer shell, and was warm to the touch. Upon picking up the object there was a symphony of shrieks and strange chittering sounds. She clutched the odd potato like object to her chest and ran back towards her house.

As she neared her house she turned back and saw several small creatures with large eyes following her. She quickly entered the house and closed the door. The next morning the only evidence of the creatures was the scratches on her front door no higher than her knee and the now cold object she had picked up. It wasn't a potato, nor was it a rock, she has no idea what it is but suspects its an egg of some sort. This was nearly twenty five years ago, but she still keeps the object as a reminder of her strange encounter in the potato fields.

Andrea sent us these photos of the object

If you are ever in norhthern Maine during the potato harvest, make sure you stay out of the fields at night, you never know if these little creatures will be around! Stay safe out there, Maine!

Rapid Fire - April 2021

It’s time for some more Rapid Fire, MMers!

• Speaking of Rapid Fire, there was a report out of Lebanon of a small lizard engulfed in flames. It was reported by local Bobby Newark that the old house on Mill Road was burned down by this “tiny fire dragon.” While this theory was quickly dismissed by the Lebanon Fire Department, Bobby swears up and down that it’s the truth. After all, he saw it with his own eyes.

• You know the paper mill up in Old Town? Well, when the wind is blowing just right, you can smell it from the University of Maine campus. Joseph Lundgren, a freshman residing in Cumberland Hall, reached out to us. “Yesterday the smell from the paper mill was so strong. Normally, it just smells like rotten eggs or sour milk. But today, it smelled like something else rotting. Like a corpse decomposing or something…” What is rotting at the paper mill, MMers? Is it just the paper, or is it something more...grotesque?

What's that smell?

• “Crinkle crinkle, little star, how I wonder what you are.” Today we had another report of a potential Crinkle Face in Maine. James Rideout, a Newfield resident, wrote this to us: “The other night I was looking through my telescope at some constellations. When I was looking at Orion’s Belt, I could have sworn that I saw the stars aligned in the shape of Crinkle Face. I only know about it from your blog, and I really hope that it’s just in my head.” We here at Malevolent Maine take Crinkle Face very seriously, and we want to warn you again of the dangers of Crinkle Face. While we hope that it was just James’ imagination at work, we can’t be 100% sure. God, we hope.

• Last, but certainly not least, MMers, we had a report lost in the mail way up from Presque Isle. The letter was supposed to be delivered in March, but we just received it this week. Harry Bordeau reported an interesting phenomenon he experienced while tapping his maple trees, as he does every year around this time. Here is part of Harry’s letter, “I tapped the tree as I always do, but that wasn’t sap. It was a gooey substance, kind of like that Nickelodeon slime, but it wasn’t green. It was an orange-yellow color, and it smelled like hand sanitizer or some cleaning solution.” While we don’t know what infiltrated Harry’s tree, we do know that there was a reported UFO sighting up in Presque Isle back in January. And while we don’t know what this unidentified “slime” is, we would be willing to bet it’s not from this world…

Is there sap in that tree?

Well, that's it for today, MMers. As always, feel free to send us any strange happenings from around the state. Stay safe out there, Maine!

Merchandise!

Good news Malevolent Mainers, we now have a Merch store! If you would like to rep Malevolent Maine and support us at the same time, please visit our store!

The Witch of Woodland Valley

Good afternoon, MMers! With summer rapidly approaching and the weather improving, we wanted to take some time to warn you about potential harm found in a seemingly safe hobby. As you may know, there is a disc golf course in Limerick called Woodland Valley Disc Golf. You may have even played a round there yourself at some point in time. However, what you didn't know is that there is an evil spirit that haunts the grounds. If you've ever played there, you may have experienced a chill crawling up your spine around the sixth hole on the Grizzly Bear course. The hollowed out tree that marks the hole? Well, that's not there by accident. 

Back in the early 1690s, long before Maine was granted statehood, a woman named Isabelle Houser was arrested, and later convicted, for practicing witchcraft. It was said that she used her powers to lure young boys and girls out into the woods, pierce their ankles with rusty nails, hang them from a tree, and slowly drain the blood and life force out of them until they expired. Many believed that this was Isabelle's way of staying young, as she was 102 years old according to local records, but she didn't appear to be a day over 70. Once she was convicted and found guilty of witchcraft, murder, and other unmentionables, it was decided that she herself should hang from the same tree she had drained so many children from. So, the noose was readied, and Houser was hanged until death. The locals decided to not bother taking her body down afterwards, as she "deserved to rot" for what she had done. Six days after Houser's hanging, the middle of the tree seemingly imploded on itself, leaving only the hollowed out trunk that exists now. Interestingly enough, the tree hasn't changed shape since those days. Some say that it has an impenetrable hex that can never be removed. 

After her death, there were numerous reports of strange activity in those woods. Some reported hearing cackling in the distance, others heard the cries of desperate children. If you got close enough, you might even be able to smell, even see, the fresh blood of innocent children dripping down the tree's bark. 

Britney Bernard in the Hollowed Tree

In recent years since the disc golf course's opening on those "hollowed" grounds, a trend has started in which players pose in the hollowed tree for a photo opportunity. In 2017 a local, Britney Bernard posted a picture to her Instagram of her posing in the infamous tree. Britney was found dead six days later, cause unknown. We tell you this today, MMers, to warn you while you are out in those woods. If you hear a strange noise, smell the scent of freshly spilled blood, or even feel something brush against your shoulder, you should pick up your disc and leave the grounds before it is too late. Stay safe out there, Maine! 

Here's one right from the horse's mouth, MMers. Tom and Chris, two of our lead investigators here at Malevolent Maine, recently experienced a little firsthand unexplained phenomena of their own. They were driving to investigate  a claim about a so-called "witch tree" in Limerick (check back soon for the complete story). They were traveling along Route 5 when they saw signs indicating a town up ahead.

The map clearly shows no suck town exists.

"We're pretty familiar with the area," Tom said. "So the sign - you know one of those green signs that indicates the miles to the different towns - had a name we'd never seen before."

The sign indicated a town in between Waterboro and Limerick called Wilton Hills. This wasn't a town either of them had ever heard of before, and so they took a slight detour, following the signs that led them to this town.

"To be clear," Chris said. "This town is not on any map of Maine. Now, maybe that's not that unusual a little farther north or for those tiny little towns of only a handful of people, but this wasn't the case for us. This was a town that did not exist - could not exist - and yet, we were pulling up to their main street, just as real as the day." 

Our intrepid investigators found a thriving little town similar in size to say downtown Saco. There was a general store, diners, a barbershop.. They passed an elementary school, a fire department, pawn shop. You name it, the town seemed to have.

"It was quaint," Tom said. "Like the kind of little downtown you'd see in a movie or tv show."

The two got out and walked around for a bit. "We talked to some people on the street, just as normal as could be." They even went into a local coffee shop and got some java and a bagel. "The food was real. It tasted just fine," Chris said. "It was real good, actually."

Shocked and surprised by the town that had seemingly sprung up out of nowhere, the two made sure to take a lot of pictures.

Black Dog of the Woods

Attention Malevolent Mainers, this one is serious. A report has come in from a MMer who goes by Greg, that he just narrowly escaped a malevolent entity. This man was driving on I-95 near a long stretch of thick woods when he noticed a large black dog getting dangerously close to the road. He pulled over and approached the animal which seemed friendly. The dog barked and moved towards the woods, often looking back at the man, as if to get him to follow. The man worried that the dog's owner might be in some danger followed the dog into the woods. The dog led the man deeper and deeper in, constantly looking back at him, his tongue lolling out of his head.

When Greg became worried that they hadn't found the owner after ten minutes he began to turn around and head back towards the road. As the dog noticed him turning to leave it began growling, Greg immediately back toward the highway and the dog chased him. Greg just barely made it back to his truck as the dog began tearing at his pant leg. He escaped narrowly with only slight injuries. As he looked in his rearview mirror he saw the dog's demeanor change once again from vicious to friendly as it went back to the side of the highway to wait once more.

If you see a black dog on the side of the road and you have the urge to help it or look for its owner, please use extreme caution. Before you get too far from your car, turn around and see if the dog reacts, if it does leave immediately, if it doesn't feel free to continue following the dog.

Stay safe out there, Maine!

Photo of a similar dog sighting from the late 1970's

Cinema Nocturna

Okay, MMers, this one is weird even by our standards. It comes to us from a reader named Chen from Biddeford. He told us about a secret movie theatre somewhere in Biddeford or Saco that shows rather, odd arthouse films.