Welcome To Spooky Wheelwright: 3 Strange Stories About Wheelwright Kentucky
Some Reference Points
- Wheelwright Historic Society - Home
Welcome to the online home of the Wheelwright Historical Society. We are not just about preserving the past but more about using it to be a way of knowing where we have been in hopes that where we are going will be just as bright and exciting. We wil
Wheelwright Historical Society, Wheelwright, KY. 1,495 likes · 8 talking about this. The Wheelwright Historical Society is an organization dedicated to...
Welcome To Spooky Town
As president of the Wheelwright Historic Society I am privileged to say the least to get to see pictures and read texts that may go unseen by the average Joe. I get to hear stories from all walks of life of people, places, and things that make up the legacy this small town has come to have. I am also fortunate enough to be the directer of Dravenstar Paranormal Research Team, Wheelwright's only paranormal investigation entity. That allows me to hear more stories that others may not be privy too, or in many cases may not want to hear for fear of things that go bump in the night, and indeed Wheelwright does have it's fair share of things that go bump in the night.
When my two passions meet, the city of Wheelwright and the paranormal, I am as thrilled as an elf in a candy shop with no adult supervision! You see Wheelwright is located in the mountains of Eastern Kentucky in Floyd County. Most of it's history is steeped in black gold, or coal for the less theatric among you, it does have it's fair share of ghost tales to scare the kiddies. The strange and unusual are just as prominent here in this little corner of Appalachia as they are anywhere else in the world. I do speculate many of the stories I am told are nothing more than an over active imagination or in a few rare cases the after effects of a good bottle of Jack. Just old wive's tales enticed to coax Betty Sue just a little closer to Bobby Joe.
What awaits you ahead is not a tale of that nature. I present 3 stories from the halls of Wheelwright's famed history that are guaranteed to have you scratching your head and wondering just what may lie await for you at that dark turn up ahead. Stories that at least for a brief moment will boggle the rational mind into submission to a much more carnal and illuminated thought process. So I welcome you if you dare to Spooky Wheelwright, watch your step though it gets a bit rough after the bridge.
The Ghost Dog
More Spooky Animals
The Hall Hollow Ghost Dog
I grew up in Hall Hollow and spent a great deal of my life in that small but amazing little haven within the city of Wheelwright. It is really called Shop Fork but for so long Hall Hollow has been it's name. As a kid my days were spent at my grandmother's house doing what kids do. I was a strange little tyke to say the least and even at a very young age I knew I was drawn to ghosts and goblins. I was particularly drawn to the scary stories my grandfather would tale. To most people he was merely spinning tall tales to scare myself and my cousin but to my young and enthusiastic ears they were all factual tales that I needed to take warning of. One such story, or warning if you will would visit me in my later years in a profound way.
Papaw would always talk about the ghost dog that lived at the bottom of the hill. It would "chase people out of the holler", he would often say. I was told on numerous occasions if I could not outrun the ghost dog it would bite my leg off and carry it to a dark hole in the ground forever. As a child I was quite afraid of that spot at the bottom of Marie Little Drive and would never go there after dark without someone by my side, preferably someone I could outrun!
Papaw would weave the tale of the ghost dog into a blanket of fright and would try to scare me to death, and with great success I might add. "It bit Jeff one time when he was going home after visiting Danny, nearly took his leg off" he would say on many occasions referring to a close friend of my family that was a regular during my dad's and uncle Danny's childhood. I knew he was telling a fib and that no ghost dog bit Jeff, but still I was very weary of that spot.
As a kid I feared the bottom of Marie Little Drive with a raw aggression. It was terrifying to think about. I mean I feared it like a goldfish fears a cat left inside the house to long with no food. It was a very traumatic thought to me. Of course I grew up and that fear sunk a little with each passing year. Of course fear is like a river of time and will repeat itself given an opportunity to do so and that opportunity would present itself when Jeff came to visit with my family. He had heard I was a "ghosthunter" and had a story to tell me.
After a few minutes of catching up I was told of how he had came to see Danny one night and stayed a bit later than he had expected to. He was walking home with my uncle at his side. Suddenly my heart sped up, I felt a tickle in my throat and I was 8 years old again sitting in the floor listening to every haunting word my grandfather was saying. Jeff went on to say they kept hearing something coming up behind them and they just could not see it. The dust would rise from the road under the faint glow of the moon but whatever was causing the dust to rise was unseen to either of them. He said it was as fresh as the day it happened when he could hear the growl getting closer and then from nowhere he said he stopped because he had to see what was chasing them.
"That was when it bit me!" he said with the enthusiasm of a toddler meeting Mickey Mouse. He described a sharp pain in his leg but could not see or feel what it was that actually put the pain there. "I swear Little Sam, I could smell the musky smell of a wet dog, and could feel the hot breath on my leg." He ended up with 7 stitches and a story even the lamest of drunks walking Wheelwright's city streets would find farfetched. That was the last time he ever left Mamaw's house after dark.
Up until his death Jeff swore that he was not lying and my uncle claims to have been there and experienced it as well. As far as anyone is concerned the ghost dog still lurks the bottom of the hill were the light of the moon just seems out of reach and darkness envelopes the road like an unwanted hug. Maybe he wants to be petted or maybe he is as mean as Jeff said he was and is not the lovable pet you bring home to momma. It is hard to say but what can be said is the ghost dog is a part of Strange Wheelwright.
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Bowling After Hours
In it's heyday the Wheelwright Clubhouse was quite the building. Barber shops, fine eating, and in the basement a fully functioning bowling alley. Many a miner found himself relaxing on the weekends to the sound of pins being toppled over and many a youth enjoyed placing the pins back up as a summer job. My team took an interest in the bowling alley long after the balls had stopped rolling and the teen heart throbs stopped wooing young ladies in bowling shoes. We were more worried about those who bowled after hours, many hours in fact, long after the building was condemned and the structure closed for many years.
While the building was a bit dangerous to get in and out of my team were certain that we could not ignore the stories we were being told by many locals near the facility. We received a good deal of reports stating sounds were coming from the area where the bowling alley was located within the building. Sometimes it sounded like people partying others it sounded like balls rolling down the alleys. After a planning session or two we had decided to send a crew in to conduct an investigation and see just what was creating the noises.
In it's prime this was the place to be but now the floors were nearly rubble, the ceiling had long since collapsed and what once resembled a state of the art bowling alley was now almost unrecognizable as such. I could still make out lanes and the stand were many of the town's would be bowlers would rent their shoes. It was in terrible shape and I was sad by that but work was to be done. Our first few hours yielded nothing substantial and I was starting to get the idea we were had.
Suddenly I heard Dravenstar Occult Specialist and my best bud in the world Ronald Miller speak out. "Anyone else seeing this?" Than it became clear what he meant. There in the air was a small but noticeable sphere of light. It was the paranormal world's most controversial oddity, an orb. But this orb was not on film nor the blurry image of a person over a grave. It was there in front of us moving almost like a basketball leaving the anxious hands of a player hoping to score the game winning shot. It hovered in the same spot but rolled about like it was frozen in the air. There with 7 witnesses I was seeing the first orb I had ever encountered with the naked eye and it was both astonishing and frightening at the same time.
As it moved from it's spot it started to flicker like a light bulb ready to go dim does just before it darkens. It slowly but surely made it's way to an opening in the wall and passed through into the back room of the alley. I quickly followed hoping to get it on film but it was gone. Ronald had snapped one picture on his camera and the rest of the team were in shock and had not thought to do the same.
We had no other events happen and I almost started to think asbestos or something in the air forced a group psychosis on us and than my audio tech came in. "Draven (my nickname) you got to hear this!"
There on our EVP sessions were the crystal clear sounds of people talking and that eerie sound of bowling balls from a bygone era coasting down the wooden floors to their final destination. We had caught the sounds that people were hearing. During the sessions we never heard a peep, but the recorder had heard so much more than the sound of silence that was almost deafening to us.
Sadly the building is long gone now and all that remains are memories. People claimed until it's final days to hear the rustle of bowlers and their game come from the basement of the clubhouse. People even reported seeing teens dressed in poodle skirts and slacks leave the alley with a milk shake or hotdog in hand. While I can not say I saw that I can say with some certainty that I did see an orb and I did feel like the place was alive and well. Only in Wheelwright, a bowling alley more active 20 years after it closed it's doors than when it was open!
See for yourself.
The Black Hope Curse
The Cemetery Under The Church
Every since the film "Poltergeist" (based on The Black Hope Curse) hit the big screen people have developed a profound fear of stones being moved and bodies being left behind to find themselves under a new home just eager to haunt the new residents into submission. These claims are almost always easy to dispatch and damned near impossible to substantiate. Fortunately for residents of Wheelwright we don't have to go very far for such an anomaly as a house on top of burial plots. How can I prove it? Simple just walk up and open the basement door!
The Wheelwright Methodist Church not only contains some of the finest people in the city of Wheelwright as members but it houses a secret under it's beautiful exterior and inviting appearance that even some residents of the city are unaware of. While an obvious observation will reveal that to the side of the church is an old cemetery one has to look a little harder to see the secret I am speaking of.
If you are curious enough, or brave enough as the case may be to open the basement door and shine a flashlight into the darkness you will be greated by tombstones that line the basement floor. That is right my friend. Under the church is a cemetery! Of course this church has to be haunted right? Sorry Carol Ann but they are not here at all, in fact it may very well be the least haunted place my team ever ventured to. But it does have a tale to tell anyways.
My team were contacted by a member of the church who wanted us to investigate a haunting inside. She claimed to see a person who was not there and it scared her greatly. My team eager to get into an underground cemetery set up and went searching for the ghost. By searching I mean setting up gear in a 3 foot tall space surrounded by dusty old stones that each meant someone a little less living then us was underneath them.
We began EVP work and soon a thump caught our attention. "If you can hear me please knock again." "THUMP! We had something! I was thrilled and asked for a repeat performance. Again the dull thump overhead and this time a sly laugh. I looked at my team and told them I needed to go check out something, keep working.
I walked up to the door of the church and the 2 bikes sitting outside were alarming enough but has I made me way in I saw two men giggling. "Can I help you?" I asked. "There are some kids down stairs asking about ghost, we are messing with them by jumping on the floor." Instantly my thrill turned to shame as I walked down and told my crew to pack it in.
Sadly the woman insisted we return and we did several times and with about 75 hours of investigation we never saw as much as an orb or heard the faintest whisper on our recordings. It was still fun to sleep in a cemetery that had a roof overtop of it.
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