Sunday, October 26, 2008
Life

Ghost tour

A spirited stroll through the Roswell night

By Walt Lawrence

Halloween, it wasn’t. The chilly night’s breeze suggested indoor pursuits were a good idea this late in February. Twenty-eight people (and three dogs on leashes) huddled in the gazebo on the Square in Roswell. All eyes were on Dianna Avena, leader of that night’s Roswell Ghost Tour.

Avena greeted everyone there, asking questions trying to determine the collective paranormal experience of the crowd. Her petite frame and cover-girl good looks belied her enthusiasm for the experience she was about to share. Until, that is, her face became animated and the quiet passion in her voice rose as she began to weave the legends of Roswell’s past with the various eerie stories told by its modern residents.

That night’s group was a mixed bunch. Some were skeptics, some were weirdness hopefuls, and a few were just interested in the history of Roswell. At least a third of them were repeat tour-takers.

Avena’s husband, Joe, passed out liability waivers to be signed before the tour began. Waivers? Absolutely—just in case someone got spooked by something really creepy and ran in front of a MARTA bus, it was on them. (More about that later.)

The faint of heart need not have come at all. Avena wrote “Roswell: History, Haunts and Legends,”a book of her Roswell paranormal experiences to date, including all the stories she would share on this tour. Those scaredy-cats could have previewed the YouTube video (Roswell Ghost Tour on CBS 46 News) to see what was in store for them. But there’s something about the potential for mass hysteria that adds to the excitement of actually being on the tour.

With all of the waivers signed and fees collected, Joe left. Not because he’s a chicken, but because he and his wife split the Friday night/Saturday night tour duties that generally go year-round. Avena confessed that some tour nights she was skittish and would have preferred the comfort of his company.

Thus assembled, the group ambled across Mimosa Boulevard to Bulloch Avenue to trek to Bulloch Hall (childhood home of Teddy Roosevelt’s mother). In front of this massive structure, a brief history of Major James Bulloch and family began, only to be interrupted by an amateur sleuth in the crowd. “Oh, my God,” he yelled. The window’s temperature just dropped 20 degrees—it must be a spirit!” At that moment, he had a laser beam trained on an upstairs window from a hand-held whiz-bang ghost detector. (Barely 15 minutes into the tour, there was real-time drama.) Technically, he used a “non-contact infrared thermometer temperature gun laser,” available on eBay for $46. The crowd settled down in time to hear about the 1850s journal of a Bulloch woman who witnessed midnight candlelight processions of slaves burying their dead in the woods behind the mansion.

The tour then made its way to Founders Cemetery at the end of Sloan Street. Town founder Roswell King was buried here in 1844. There are 27 other marked graves, but controversy remains as to how many bodies are actually buried on that hill. Some two-thirds of the original cemetery was sold off and houses built upon the land—a scandal in the 1980s. Stories have been told about homeowners finding coffins and bones during modern excavations. It’s also said that slaves were buried outside the cemetery proper, using only large flat rocks for headstones.

The crowd stopped in front of the “Old Bricks” on Sloan Street as they headed back to the Square. This was housing for Roswell Mill foremen’s families. These were the first townhouses built in the United States. The ghost of a confederate soldier dubbed “Fred” is said to cause occasional mischief there. 

But the most dramatic paranormal manifestation took place in 2006. (Remember the aforementioned MARTA bus?) Fifty-three eighth-graders and a few chaperones were listening to Avena tell Fred stories when the apparition of a young girl appeared several times through an open doorway. The youngsters viewed her with curiosity and interest until the girl suddenly seemed to launch her body out of the building toward them. Pandemonium ensued. Fifty-three screaming children stampeded toward Atlanta Street and safety. Adults stopped them before they reached the thoroughfare, but tour waivers were soon required.

Next stop: the “Creepy House” behind the abandoned restaurant on Atlanta Street. (Dishes and glassware still gather dust on top of white-clothed tables.) Avena relates the building’s historical horrors. It's hard not to notice that the heretofore rambunctious dogs are now standing stone-still, eyes averted from the building.

The tour ends on the sidewalk just across from J. Christopher’s. Here, Avena shares the evening’s most poignant story, a legend about love and loss: Michael and Catherine (“Romeo and Juliet,” plus ghosts). The most commonly told version is that Michael was a young Union soldier in Roswell during the Civil War. Catherine was a young local girl who fell in love with him, his Yankee roots being no obstacle to her affections. For reasons unclear, Michael was hanged for treason from a tree in the Square, while Catherine watched from the commissary (J. Christopher’s). Later, she hanged herself from a beam on the second floor. Their ghosts, in full uniform and fancy dress, are said to be seen there by children to this day. Waiters periodically report unexplained happenings in the building.

Whether you're a believer or a skeptic, the mile-long stroll through the Roswell night is an entertaining opportunity to search for ghosts and watch others as they do the same. It’s almost the best-kept secret in Atlanta. SP