Fairfax County General :
Fairfax Underground
Welcome to Fairfax Underground, a project site designed to improve communication among residents of Fairfax County, VA. Feel free to post anything Northern Virginia residents would find interesting.
that where?
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 09/24/2015 01:51PM by WingNut.
Welcome to Fairfax Underground, a project site designed to improve communication among residents of Fairfax County, VA. Feel free to post anything Northern Virginia residents would find interesting.
Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
RobertGreyberg
()
Date: June 29, 2009 08:25PM
If there are any local urban legends anyone would like to share please do so on this thread. I know of the Bunny Man of course, but not so many others. So please feel free to post anything (even different variations of the Bunny Man Legend) from scary stories to myths of the area.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/29/2009 08:25PM by RobertGreyberg.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/29/2009 08:25PM by RobertGreyberg.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
RobertGreyberg
()
Date: June 29, 2009 08:49PM
That's a good one. I don't truly consider that local as in Fairfax County but sure. That's a great one for the East Coast Virginia area.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
WingNut
()
Date: June 29, 2009 09:10PM
Harry Tuttle Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> How about Mothman?
I was suffering some serious insomnia about 2 months ago and saw the Mothman on some Animal Planet "Blair Witch"/mockumentary ripoff. I didn't notice it was in VA
-------------------------------------------------------
> How about Mothman?
I was suffering some serious insomnia about 2 months ago and saw the Mothman on some Animal Planet "Blair Witch"/mockumentary ripoff. I didn't notice it was in VA
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
RobertGreyberg
()
Date: June 29, 2009 10:11PM
It isn't. It's in West Virginia where the legend and the movie takes place.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
mothman
()
Date: June 30, 2009 09:19AM
There was a Mothman siting in Clifton at one time.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
RobertGreyberg
()
Date: June 30, 2009 10:11AM
Really. if this is true give me details?
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Mothman
()
Date: June 30, 2009 10:58AM
RobertGreyberg Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Really. if this is true give me details?
Find Mike. He'll give you the details.
http://web.archive.org/web/20060325204836/http://virginiaghosts.com/mothman.htm
-------------------------------------------------------
> Really. if this is true give me details?
Find Mike. He'll give you the details.
http://web.archive.org/web/20060325204836/http://virginiaghosts.com/mothman.htm
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Stepping Razor
()
Date: June 30, 2009 11:12AM
How about the 200 year old snapping turtle at i forget the name of the pond in PG county.... but it supposed to be the size of a tire...
that is the best i can do now.
that is the best i can do now.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
RobertGreyberg
()
Date: June 30, 2009 01:01PM
Thanks for the link Mothman. And no 496 I'm not that gullible, it was a mixture of sarcasm and bring it on-style questioning that I was using, and is hard to express via non-face to face communication. but hey he gave me details!
And no I haven't heard about that snapping turtle, but that's cool and definitely a good contribution to this forum. i have to look into that more.
Keep the stories coming people.
And no I haven't heard about that snapping turtle, but that's cool and definitely a good contribution to this forum. i have to look into that more.
Keep the stories coming people.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Stepping Razor
()
Date: June 30, 2009 01:13PM
Re: Turtle
I think it is Allen's Pond
I think it is Allen's Pond
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Mid Life Crisis
()
Date: June 30, 2009 02:09PM
Has anyone heard the legend of the Russia House (in no way related to the restaurant now located in Herndon) which allegedly took place in the early 60's?
As legend has it, in a neighborhood behind Skyline in Bailey's Crossroads, there was a Russian Family that lived in a modest home on a quiet street. None of the neighbors ever spoke to the family. They were described as reserved, and stand offish. Very quiet, and mystery always surrounded their presence. I believe they did not even own a car. The children were not enrolled in school, so it was assumed they were taught at home.
One night, the family up and left. They were seen walking down the sidewalk with bare minimum possessions. The father with a few suitcases. The mother with a basket. The children each holding a stuffed animal.
A few weeks passed, and the home began to quickly delapidate. The lawn grew out of control. Weeds spread between the cracks. Paint chipped off the side of the home. And the Russia House quickly became a focal point of neighborhood discussion on behalf of it's strange aura.
Naturally, the property grabbed the attention of the local elementary school aged children. It was summer time. A small group of close friends, consisting of 3 boys and 1 girl, decided to brave any fear or parental warnings and see what lay inside the Russia House, first hand. They snuck out of their homes in the middle of the night; the date, unknown, but as the story goes, it was very close to the fourth of July. The fireworks had finally dissipated, but some still exploded in the distance as they made their way up the driveway to the front door of the home.
Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. Not just unlocked, but ajar. The boys entered the home first. The girl entered behind them and they closed it, making a loud thud. As suspected, the home was in poor condition. Filthy, cloths scattered through the main rooms. The children admired the silver ware which still lay set on the table even accompanied by plates. A thick layer of dust lay undisturbed across all surfaces.
The girl ran upstairs, by herself, to inspect the bedrooms. The boys remained behind, still tinkering with the old television set in the living room. They heard her marching above, from room to room. Dust and cobwebs fell from the ceiling. They paid it no mind. The walking stopped, and suddenly, without warning, the young girl came crashing through the ceiling, passing through weakened floor boards,and landing on the kitchen table. The boys panicked and ran home to tell their parents. When they arrived back at the house with the police and paramedics they young girl was pronounced dead.
Several years passed and the three boys remained friends as a result of this traumatic bonding experience. They somewhat isolated themselves from their peers and were viewed as outcasts. They rarely spoke of the experience but the gloominess loomed thick nearly 4 years after the tragedy. And, around this time, opens a new chapter and a strange string of unfortunate events.
In the 6th grade, while still in Fairfax County, one of the boys lived near a set of train tracks. At 11:15 every night a passenger carrying train roared through less than a half mile from his family's home. One night, after his parents had gone to bed, the boy walked to the tracks. Like clockwork, the 11:15 was heard chugging along in the distance. The boy remained in the woods until the last possible second. When the train approached, dressed in his pajamas, he stepped in front of the train - killing him instantly.
On the one year anniversary of his friends death by train, the third boy hung himself in his parent's shed. Coincidentally, or not, very close the the fourth of July. His younger brother and friends found him when they went to retrieve some fireworks they had stashed away the previous night. The parent's swept the incident under the rug, as most suicides are handled.
This leaves one remaining from the Russia House Four. Based on discussions I had recently with a colleague, the last child, now well into adulthood, still lives in the area. From what I understand, in Centreville - Little Rocky Run. He has since married and has 2 children. But you must wonder, might he be next? I don't know.
Has anyone heard this story? Might anyone actually know this person or any more details on this? The original girl who died in the home is buried in Bailey's x-roads. Apparently, back in the 80's teenagers would deface her hedge stone with the words "Russia House" written in black lipstick. Interesting how somehow all of the police reports have vanished, or were never published. I know suicides arent widely reported on, but you would think this whole ordeal would be more widely known in the area.
As legend has it, in a neighborhood behind Skyline in Bailey's Crossroads, there was a Russian Family that lived in a modest home on a quiet street. None of the neighbors ever spoke to the family. They were described as reserved, and stand offish. Very quiet, and mystery always surrounded their presence. I believe they did not even own a car. The children were not enrolled in school, so it was assumed they were taught at home.
One night, the family up and left. They were seen walking down the sidewalk with bare minimum possessions. The father with a few suitcases. The mother with a basket. The children each holding a stuffed animal.
A few weeks passed, and the home began to quickly delapidate. The lawn grew out of control. Weeds spread between the cracks. Paint chipped off the side of the home. And the Russia House quickly became a focal point of neighborhood discussion on behalf of it's strange aura.
Naturally, the property grabbed the attention of the local elementary school aged children. It was summer time. A small group of close friends, consisting of 3 boys and 1 girl, decided to brave any fear or parental warnings and see what lay inside the Russia House, first hand. They snuck out of their homes in the middle of the night; the date, unknown, but as the story goes, it was very close to the fourth of July. The fireworks had finally dissipated, but some still exploded in the distance as they made their way up the driveway to the front door of the home.
Surprisingly, the door was unlocked. Not just unlocked, but ajar. The boys entered the home first. The girl entered behind them and they closed it, making a loud thud. As suspected, the home was in poor condition. Filthy, cloths scattered through the main rooms. The children admired the silver ware which still lay set on the table even accompanied by plates. A thick layer of dust lay undisturbed across all surfaces.
The girl ran upstairs, by herself, to inspect the bedrooms. The boys remained behind, still tinkering with the old television set in the living room. They heard her marching above, from room to room. Dust and cobwebs fell from the ceiling. They paid it no mind. The walking stopped, and suddenly, without warning, the young girl came crashing through the ceiling, passing through weakened floor boards,and landing on the kitchen table. The boys panicked and ran home to tell their parents. When they arrived back at the house with the police and paramedics they young girl was pronounced dead.
Several years passed and the three boys remained friends as a result of this traumatic bonding experience. They somewhat isolated themselves from their peers and were viewed as outcasts. They rarely spoke of the experience but the gloominess loomed thick nearly 4 years after the tragedy. And, around this time, opens a new chapter and a strange string of unfortunate events.
In the 6th grade, while still in Fairfax County, one of the boys lived near a set of train tracks. At 11:15 every night a passenger carrying train roared through less than a half mile from his family's home. One night, after his parents had gone to bed, the boy walked to the tracks. Like clockwork, the 11:15 was heard chugging along in the distance. The boy remained in the woods until the last possible second. When the train approached, dressed in his pajamas, he stepped in front of the train - killing him instantly.
On the one year anniversary of his friends death by train, the third boy hung himself in his parent's shed. Coincidentally, or not, very close the the fourth of July. His younger brother and friends found him when they went to retrieve some fireworks they had stashed away the previous night. The parent's swept the incident under the rug, as most suicides are handled.
This leaves one remaining from the Russia House Four. Based on discussions I had recently with a colleague, the last child, now well into adulthood, still lives in the area. From what I understand, in Centreville - Little Rocky Run. He has since married and has 2 children. But you must wonder, might he be next? I don't know.
Has anyone heard this story? Might anyone actually know this person or any more details on this? The original girl who died in the home is buried in Bailey's x-roads. Apparently, back in the 80's teenagers would deface her hedge stone with the words "Russia House" written in black lipstick. Interesting how somehow all of the police reports have vanished, or were never published. I know suicides arent widely reported on, but you would think this whole ordeal would be more widely known in the area.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
The Real Sculler
()
Date: June 30, 2009 02:25PM
OK,"Mid Life Crisis", take the flashlight out from underneath your face, turn the lights back on and give us damn street name and address for this "Russia House".
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Warhawk
()
Date: June 30, 2009 02:30PM
Mid-Life Crisis - I've lived in N. VA all my life and have NEVER heard of that story.
__________________________________
That's not a ladybug, that's a cannapiller.
__________________________________
That's not a ladybug, that's a cannapiller.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Stoner
()
Date: June 30, 2009 02:33PM
There is a legend in the local area called Porker. He lurks in the lessburg/louden area and has been sighted as far south as Richmond. On quiet dark nights you can hear his sweet mournful singing floating across the beltway. He walks in circles and speaks in riddles about hipsters and targets and desserts. He is a tortured soul waiting to drag people into insanity with his mournful song. Beware of...of uuuuuhh what Was I talking about again?
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
GMU Hokie
()
Date: June 30, 2009 03:11PM
How about the story of Ann Fitzhugh and Captain Charles Hawkins who was killed by Patriots as he hid in Oak Hill estate off Wakefield Chapel Road?
Miss Ann later went mad.
Miss Ann later went mad.
more on Charles Hawkins and Ann Fitzhugh
Posted by:
GMU Hokie
()
Date: June 30, 2009 03:14PM
There are streets named after this couple in Annandale. Two are in Truro and the others are off Duncan Drive.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
RobertGreyberg
()
Date: June 30, 2009 03:34PM
This is all interesting. Keep them coming.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Curious?
()
Date: June 30, 2009 05:51PM
Who the hell are you? What's with all the surveys and questions?
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
§
()
Date: June 30, 2009 05:53PM
Robert Greyberg = Richard Dawson, without a game show and all the kissing.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Warhawk
()
Date: June 30, 2009 06:18PM
RobertGreyberg Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> This is all interesting. Keep them coming.
It sounds very creepy...like he's masturbating to our answers to his survey. He'll bust a nut when we mention Midgetville. Oh wait, I wrote it....now he has to clean up.
__________________________________
That's not a ladybug, that's a cannapiller.
-------------------------------------------------------
> This is all interesting. Keep them coming.
It sounds very creepy...like he's masturbating to our answers to his survey. He'll bust a nut when we mention Midgetville. Oh wait, I wrote it....now he has to clean up.
__________________________________
That's not a ladybug, that's a cannapiller.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
RobertGreyberg
()
Date: June 30, 2009 06:20PM
Haha. Midgetville is definitely interesting thats for sure. Sorry if I sound creepy. I just find local legends and stuff interesting.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
WingNut
()
Date: June 30, 2009 06:53PM
that where?Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 09/24/2015 01:51PM by WingNut.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
McLean Guy
()
Date: June 30, 2009 08:42PM
Check out Gervais Sewell.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
RESton Peace
()
Date: June 30, 2009 08:57PM
I don't know if you would call it a "legend" or not, but at Ball's Bluff park over north of Leesburg, there's a super-tiny national cemetery with a half-circle of gravestones... "legend has it" that if you count the gravestones going right to left, and then left to right, you will come up with two different numbers. One of the gravestones disappears when it is viewed this way. It has to do with the the fact that out of the 54 men buried there, 53 are unknown, so the one who isn't makes his tombstone disappear to be in solidarity with his fellow soldiers.
Then there's this missive I found:
"Several stories of a ghostly nature have been told over the years involving Ball's Bluff. One story involves a group of teenagers who went to the bluff in the 1950's only to be sent rushing back to their car by terrible screams. Once in their car, the teenagers were not able to move the car. It seemed as though something was holding the car from moving. Finally the car was able to move and the group raced back to town. There, the teenagers found muddy hand prints on the trunk.
The parents of one of the teenagers returned to the cemetery to have a look. When they arrived they found nothing unusual, not even a breeze. Three graves are located out side the wall of the cemetery. Next to the 3 graves is a small tree that began to shake and bend almost to the ground. Frightened, the adults fled the cemetery.
Are the screams the result of the terrified Union troops caught in a trap or the countless men who perished while fleeing into the river. Or could it be Colonel Baker who is still trying to hold his ground."
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/30/2009 09:06PM by RESton Peace.
Attachments:
Then there's this missive I found:
"Several stories of a ghostly nature have been told over the years involving Ball's Bluff. One story involves a group of teenagers who went to the bluff in the 1950's only to be sent rushing back to their car by terrible screams. Once in their car, the teenagers were not able to move the car. It seemed as though something was holding the car from moving. Finally the car was able to move and the group raced back to town. There, the teenagers found muddy hand prints on the trunk.
The parents of one of the teenagers returned to the cemetery to have a look. When they arrived they found nothing unusual, not even a breeze. Three graves are located out side the wall of the cemetery. Next to the 3 graves is a small tree that began to shake and bend almost to the ground. Frightened, the adults fled the cemetery.
Are the screams the result of the terrified Union troops caught in a trap or the countless men who perished while fleeing into the river. Or could it be Colonel Baker who is still trying to hold his ground."
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 06/30/2009 09:06PM by RESton Peace.
Attachments:
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
RobertGreyberg
()
Date: June 30, 2009 09:03PM
That's cool, and the kind of stuff I'm looking for. I assume since Virginia had a big role in the Civil War (such as housing the Confederate Capital and several significant battles) that there are many Civil War Ghost Legends and Stories around.
I've read many books on this subject and researched many topics relative to this, and not once did I stumble upon this story. So thank you RESton Peace, you have been a great help in one of my forums yet again.
Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 06/30/2009 09:05PM by RobertGreyberg.
I've read many books on this subject and researched many topics relative to this, and not once did I stumble upon this story. So thank you RESton Peace, you have been a great help in one of my forums yet again.
Edited 2 time(s). Last edit at 06/30/2009 09:05PM by RobertGreyberg.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Kenny_Powers
()
Date: July 01, 2009 12:24AM
Harry Tuttle Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> How about Mothman?
wasnt that west virginia?
-------------------------------------------------------
> How about Mothman?
wasnt that west virginia?
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Stepping Razor
()
Date: July 01, 2009 09:11AM
What about the one about Jhoon Rhee... "If you take Jhoo Rhee self-defense, then you too can say, 'Nobody bothers me'!!!"...
I always heard persistent rumors that the master of self defense was frequently assaulted/mugged. Vintage 1970s.
There is also the rumor about the kid on Bozo Circus... the kid does something inappropriate, Bozo tells the boy,"That's a Bozo no-no!"
The kid telss Bozo,"Cram it CLown".
The above has been debunked, but thought I would mention it regardless.
I always heard persistent rumors that the master of self defense was frequently assaulted/mugged. Vintage 1970s.
There is also the rumor about the kid on Bozo Circus... the kid does something inappropriate, Bozo tells the boy,"That's a Bozo no-no!"
The kid telss Bozo,"Cram it CLown".
The above has been debunked, but thought I would mention it regardless.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Guy Mandude
()
Date: July 01, 2009 10:46AM
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
jhey
()
Date: July 01, 2009 12:14PM
Stepping Razor Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> What about the one about Jhoon Rhee... "If you
> take Jhoo Rhee self-defense, then you too can say,
> 'Nobody bothers me'!!!"...
-------------------------------------------------------
> What about the one about Jhoon Rhee... "If you
> take Jhoo Rhee self-defense, then you too can say,
> 'Nobody bothers me'!!!"...
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
RobertGreyberg
()
Date: July 01, 2009 02:16PM
Goatman! Almost forgot. Yeah he's a big deal in Maryland.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
WingNut
()
Date: July 02, 2009 10:25PM
jhey Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Stepping Razor Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > What about the one about Jhoon Rhee... "If you
> > take Jhoo Rhee self-defense, then you too can
> say,
> > 'Nobody bothers me'!!!"...
>
>
Thats none other than NIls Lofgren singing the Joon Rhee theme when he was still a struggling DC area musciain,I've posted that one here before.
The rumor I always heard was the two cute kids in the ad were found murdered in an alley! It's got to be true
-------------------------------------------------------
> Stepping Razor Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > What about the one about Jhoon Rhee... "If you
> > take Jhoo Rhee self-defense, then you too can
> say,
> > 'Nobody bothers me'!!!"...
>
>
Thats none other than NIls Lofgren singing the Joon Rhee theme when he was still a struggling DC area musciain,I've posted that one here before.
The rumor I always heard was the two cute kids in the ad were found murdered in an alley! It's got to be true
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
WingNut
()
Date: July 02, 2009 10:27PM
Stepping Razor Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
>
> There is also the rumor about the kid on Bozo
> Circus... the kid does something inappropriate,
> Bozo tells the boy,"That's a Bozo no-no!"
> The kid telss Bozo,"Cram it CLown".
> The above has been debunked, but thought I would
> mention it regardless.
It was a black kid and he was playing "Bozo Bucket Bonanza" where they had a series of 5 or 10 buckets in a row you had to throw balls into. He missed the third and said "shit" Bozo scolded him and he told Bozo to cram.
Not that I saw it or anything, but I've heard all about it, must be true.
-------------------------------------------------------
>
> There is also the rumor about the kid on Bozo
> Circus... the kid does something inappropriate,
> Bozo tells the boy,"That's a Bozo no-no!"
> The kid telss Bozo,"Cram it CLown".
> The above has been debunked, but thought I would
> mention it regardless.
It was a black kid and he was playing "Bozo Bucket Bonanza" where they had a series of 5 or 10 buckets in a row you had to throw balls into. He missed the third and said "shit" Bozo scolded him and he told Bozo to cram.
Not that I saw it or anything, but I've heard all about it, must be true.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Trueghostman
()
Date: September 02, 2010 09:57PM
I'm a ghost...I'm a ghost... I'm NOT really here......
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
More Complete
()
Date: September 03, 2010 02:59PM
There was a guy in the 80s who use to walk around Burke with paper towels on his head. He was crazy.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
itchy
()
Date: September 03, 2010 07:18PM
Well there's the Bunnyman in Clifton, but that's been posted to death in the Centreville section of FFX Underground.
Then there's the hitchhiker ghost on Walney Road. I've heard on wednesday and thursday nights between 11:30pm and 2:30am that you can see that dude.....especially on a rainy night. The hitchhiker was "supposedly" run over back in the 1940's on a rainy night.
Then there's the hitchhiker ghost on Walney Road. I've heard on wednesday and thursday nights between 11:30pm and 2:30am that you can see that dude.....especially on a rainy night. The hitchhiker was "supposedly" run over back in the 1940's on a rainy night.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
ThePackLeader
()
Date: September 03, 2010 07:26PM
This isn't necessarily local, but somewhere in Southern VA there's a location where truckers always stop on a dirt road. Like clock work, you can see a phantom procession of Confederate soldiers marching across the street, and it's described as appearing much like a black-and-white film reel. They also say that you are immediately overcome with an extreme sense of sadness, and some people start to tear up as well.
I wish I knew the exact location, because I'd really like to check this place out.
==================================================================================================
"And if any women or children get their legs torn off, or faces caved in, well, it's tough shit for them." -2LT. Bert Stiles, 505th, 339th (On Berlin Bombardier Mission, 1944).
I wish I knew the exact location, because I'd really like to check this place out.
==================================================================================================
"And if any women or children get their legs torn off, or faces caved in, well, it's tough shit for them." -2LT. Bert Stiles, 505th, 339th (On Berlin Bombardier Mission, 1944).
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Mr. Misery
()
Date: September 03, 2010 07:28PM
what about crybaby bridges? I know there are a few around here (virtually every place in America has a crybaby bridge or two).
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
itchy
()
Date: September 03, 2010 07:53PM
Going south to West Point, Virginia off of Route 30 there's "The West Point Light". Myself and friends have actually seen this with our own eyes back in the late 1980's. A pullman conductor "supposedly" got ran over by a train and at night you can see what appears to be a pullman's lantern swaying back and forth across the tracks.
There is speculation that it is swamp gas aka "Will-O'-the-wisp" that hovers back and forth between the rails due to the heat of the railroad tracks. I've seen Will-o'-the-whisp and this was not anything that even resembled it. It looked like a fucking latern swaying back and forth. It moved closer to us until we ran after it, then the light just went out. It was quite a religious experience. I've seen a lot of things that scared me in my years of military service, but nothing that quite made me feel like that. It's hair raising, confusing horrifying and exciting all at once. I've sought after that "high" ever since
There is speculation that it is swamp gas aka "Will-O'-the-wisp" that hovers back and forth between the rails due to the heat of the railroad tracks. I've seen Will-o'-the-whisp and this was not anything that even resembled it. It looked like a fucking latern swaying back and forth. It moved closer to us until we ran after it, then the light just went out. It was quite a religious experience. I've seen a lot of things that scared me in my years of military service, but nothing that quite made me feel like that. It's hair raising, confusing horrifying and exciting all at once. I've sought after that "high" ever since
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
91boy
()
Date: May 02, 2011 10:03AM
Has anyone here ever heard of a strange thing that happened in the Berkdale Apartments in Herndon Virginia. Formaly the Dulles Park Apartments. Well back in the late 90s a black boy apeared from no where. Kids ran screaming. I heard that there is a legend behind it but I don't know it. I was a little kid when this happened and I still remember it. Why did this happen?
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Shadow
()
Date: May 03, 2011 08:36AM
In McLean off 123 there used to be a mansion, near where the Capital One building is. The family had a cemetery as many did back in the day and it's told that the ghosts from the cemetery haunted some of the office buildings that were put up. Some of those are now gone as well and the Cap One building is there now along with a ball field, etc, but across 123 at Anderson, the octagonal building is one that's still standing and is haunted.
Stories include smelling a beautiful fragrant perfume in the middle of the hallway of a totally empty building. (The building was a secure facility, so it really was empty) and the fragrance seemed to move as if someone were walking. Also heard of stories of things clattering to the floor when guards were on the opposite side of the building, but when they rushed to investigate, everything was where it was supposed to be. Another story had a guard's radio (the walkie-talkie kind) suddenly disconnect from the carrying strap without warning...there were two dog-leash style clips that had to be released for this to actually happen, so the guard couldn't have just caught it on something.
Reports of people walking on the floor above when no one else was in the building were common as well.
Stories include smelling a beautiful fragrant perfume in the middle of the hallway of a totally empty building. (The building was a secure facility, so it really was empty) and the fragrance seemed to move as if someone were walking. Also heard of stories of things clattering to the floor when guards were on the opposite side of the building, but when they rushed to investigate, everything was where it was supposed to be. Another story had a guard's radio (the walkie-talkie kind) suddenly disconnect from the carrying strap without warning...there were two dog-leash style clips that had to be released for this to actually happen, so the guard couldn't have just caught it on something.
Reports of people walking on the floor above when no one else was in the building were common as well.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
TheMeeper
()
Date: May 03, 2011 09:04AM
Shadow Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> but across 123 at Anderson, the octagonal
> building is one that's still standing and is
> haunted.
> The building was a secure facility, so it really was empty)
That building is creepy. I've pulled into that lot a few times to snap photos of metro construction, and although I do not believe in hauntings, I really got the strong feeling that I should not be there. There's just something weird about the place.
Also, I believe that is the facility that infamous German hacker/spy, Markus Hess, launched his infiltrations into DoD computers to gather intel for the East German govt. See The Cuckoo's Egg. I think Mitre owned it back then.
-------------------------------------------------------
> but across 123 at Anderson, the octagonal
> building is one that's still standing and is
> haunted.
> The building was a secure facility, so it really was empty)
That building is creepy. I've pulled into that lot a few times to snap photos of metro construction, and although I do not believe in hauntings, I really got the strong feeling that I should not be there. There's just something weird about the place.
Also, I believe that is the facility that infamous German hacker/spy, Markus Hess, launched his infiltrations into DoD computers to gather intel for the East German govt. See The Cuckoo's Egg. I think Mitre owned it back then.
Mooman
Posted by:
Les
()
Date: May 03, 2011 09:28AM
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Shadow
()
Date: May 03, 2011 09:23PM
TheMeeper Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Shadow Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > but across 123 at Anderson, the octagonal
> > building is one that's still standing and is
> > haunted.
> > The building was a secure facility, so it really
> was empty)
>
> That building is creepy. I've pulled into that
> lot a few times to snap photos of metro
> construction, and although I do not believe in
> hauntings, I really got the strong feeling that I
> should not be there. There's just something weird
> about the place.
>
> Also, I believe that is the facility that infamous
> German hacker/spy, Markus Hess, launched his
> infiltrations into DoD computers to gather intel
> for the East German govt. See The Cuckoo's Egg. I
> think Mitre owned it back then.
Mitre never owned the building, only rented from WestGate corp., but it's doubtful that building was Hess's tool, as Mitre had 6 or 7 buildings in the area at the time and the work in that building wasn't DOD/MILNET/etc. I was always amused by people getting lost in the building when I was there. Contributed to its spooky rep.
-------------------------------------------------------
> Shadow Wrote:
> --------------------------------------------------
> -----
> > but across 123 at Anderson, the octagonal
> > building is one that's still standing and is
> > haunted.
> > The building was a secure facility, so it really
> was empty)
>
> That building is creepy. I've pulled into that
> lot a few times to snap photos of metro
> construction, and although I do not believe in
> hauntings, I really got the strong feeling that I
> should not be there. There's just something weird
> about the place.
>
> Also, I believe that is the facility that infamous
> German hacker/spy, Markus Hess, launched his
> infiltrations into DoD computers to gather intel
> for the East German govt. See The Cuckoo's Egg. I
> think Mitre owned it back then.
Mitre never owned the building, only rented from WestGate corp., but it's doubtful that building was Hess's tool, as Mitre had 6 or 7 buildings in the area at the time and the work in that building wasn't DOD/MILNET/etc. I was always amused by people getting lost in the building when I was there. Contributed to its spooky rep.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Gordon Blvd
()
Date: May 03, 2011 09:36PM
that Mitre building Octagon haunting myth is a by-product of the real Octogon Haunted House offa New York Ave just south of GDub in Foggy Bottom
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Octagon_House_%28Washington,_D.C.%29
for local legends, is it true there was some murder/haunted house off of Sydenstricker? Dont really know the story too well.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Octagon_House_%28Washington,_D.C.%29
for local legends, is it true there was some murder/haunted house off of Sydenstricker? Dont really know the story too well.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
TheMeeper
()
Date: May 03, 2011 10:21PM
Shadow Wrote:
-----------------------------------------------------
> Mitre never owned the building, only rented from
> WestGate corp., but it's doubtful that building
> was Hess's tool, as Mitre had 6 or 7 buildings in
> the area at the time and the work in that building
> wasn't DOD/MILNET/etc.
Maybe it wasn't, but the book definitely references one of Mitre's buildings along that stretch of 123. IIRC, they had an unsecured line that the spies dialed to gain access to DoD stuff on the west coast.
The Cuckoo's Egg is a great read, btw.
-----------------------------------------------------
> Mitre never owned the building, only rented from
> WestGate corp., but it's doubtful that building
> was Hess's tool, as Mitre had 6 or 7 buildings in
> the area at the time and the work in that building
> wasn't DOD/MILNET/etc.
Maybe it wasn't, but the book definitely references one of Mitre's buildings along that stretch of 123. IIRC, they had an unsecured line that the spies dialed to gain access to DoD stuff on the west coast.
The Cuckoo's Egg is a great read, btw.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
scratchy
()
Date: May 03, 2011 10:48PM
itchy Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> Going south to West Point, Virginia off of Route
> 30 there's "The West Point Light". Myself and
> friends have actually seen this with our own eyes
> back in the late 1980's. A pullman conductor
> "supposedly" got ran over by a train and at night
> you can see what appears to be a pullman's lantern
> swaying back and forth across the tracks.
>
> There is speculation that it is swamp gas aka
> "Will-O'-the-wisp" that hovers back and forth
> between the rails due to the heat of the railroad
> tracks. I've seen Will-o'-the-whisp and this was
> not anything that even resembled it. It looked
> like a fucking latern swaying back and forth. It
> moved closer to us until we ran after it, then the
> light just went out. It was quite a religious
> experience. I've seen a lot of things that scared
> me in my years of military service, but nothing
> that quite made me feel like that. It's hair
> raising, confusing horrifying and exciting all at
> once. I've sought after that "high" ever since
I saw that story on TV years ago.....think it was "Unsolved Mysteries" with that creepy looking dude Robert Stack. He was perfect for that show.
-------------------------------------------------------
> Going south to West Point, Virginia off of Route
> 30 there's "The West Point Light". Myself and
> friends have actually seen this with our own eyes
> back in the late 1980's. A pullman conductor
> "supposedly" got ran over by a train and at night
> you can see what appears to be a pullman's lantern
> swaying back and forth across the tracks.
>
> There is speculation that it is swamp gas aka
> "Will-O'-the-wisp" that hovers back and forth
> between the rails due to the heat of the railroad
> tracks. I've seen Will-o'-the-whisp and this was
> not anything that even resembled it. It looked
> like a fucking latern swaying back and forth. It
> moved closer to us until we ran after it, then the
> light just went out. It was quite a religious
> experience. I've seen a lot of things that scared
> me in my years of military service, but nothing
> that quite made me feel like that. It's hair
> raising, confusing horrifying and exciting all at
> once. I've sought after that "high" ever since
I saw that story on TV years ago.....think it was "Unsolved Mysteries" with that creepy looking dude Robert Stack. He was perfect for that show.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
E.T. Stayed Home
()
Date: May 04, 2011 08:32AM
There's a book called, "Weird Virginia" that you can get that has a whole list of them for VA and also has some stuff for DC and MD.
Lost Richmond – Exploring Elko Tract, Richmond’s “Lost City”
http://youguysshouldknow.wordpress.com/2007/06/18/lost-richmond-exploring-elko-tract-richmonds-lost-city/
Bunny Man Bridge
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bunny_Man
The Bunny Man Unmasked:
The Real Life Origins of an Urban Legend
http://www.fairfaxcounty.gov/library/branches/vr/bunny/bunny.htm
Lost Richmond – Exploring Elko Tract, Richmond’s “Lost City”
http://youguysshouldknow.wordpress.com/2007/06/18/lost-richmond-exploring-elko-tract-richmonds-lost-city/
Bunny Man Bridge
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bunny_Man
The Bunny Man Unmasked:
The Real Life Origins of an Urban Legend
http://www.fairfaxcounty.gov/library/branches/vr/bunny/bunny.htm
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Kate Leach
()
Date: June 07, 2011 01:22AM
I don't remember if that was the name of the house that doesn't seem to belong in the neighborhood, but in Truro there was a house set way back that had lots of neighborhood kids telling stories. One was a soldier that was shot and killed in the eye while looking through a hole in the floor boards of the attic. I believe it was supposed to be during the Civil War but I could be wrong. The story changed as we got older. I wished I remembered the whole story but the story sure kept us kids from going anywhere close to the house. Especially since no one ever seemed to be living in the house. It was all creepy and mysterious but the stories kept us from exploring.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Kate Leach
()
Date: June 07, 2011 01:25AM
This is in response to GMUHokie 's post on Ann Fitzhugh.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
2012OhNoes
()
Date: June 09, 2011 08:50PM
mothman Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> There was a Mothman siting in Clifton at one time.
you mean the bunnyman damn you!!!
-------------------------------------------------------
> There was a Mothman siting in Clifton at one time.
you mean the bunnyman damn you!!!
Re: more on Charles Hawkins and Ann Fitzhugh
Posted by:
Alan
()
Date: June 10, 2014 05:04PM
I lived on Ann Fitz Hugh Dr. and Charles Hawkins Ct was right across from me. The House you are talking about is at Braeburn Dr and Wakefield Chapel Rd.
AFH was waiting for CH one afternoon, and confederate troops came to the plantation home.
AFH hid in the attic while the confederate troops searched the house. The soldiers were right beneath her when she sneezed and one soldier thrust his sword right thru the ceiling and into the attic which caused her to bleed thru the attic floor and onto the top floor ceiling.
That blood spot is told to move to a different location each night.
AFH was waiting for CH one afternoon, and confederate troops came to the plantation home.
AFH hid in the attic while the confederate troops searched the house. The soldiers were right beneath her when she sneezed and one soldier thrust his sword right thru the ceiling and into the attic which caused her to bleed thru the attic floor and onto the top floor ceiling.
That blood spot is told to move to a different location each night.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Freda's Rotting Corpse
()
Date: June 10, 2014 05:11PM
I used to hang around Great Falls and hit on all the young kids who came home with Bart. Does that make me a legend?
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Scary but True
()
Date: June 10, 2014 05:33PM
I heard tell that Meade made a pledge in which he gave the devil his soul in return for a perfect singing voice.
But Meade didn't read the contract fully, and one purposely misplaced comma actually meant that Meade not only lost his soul, but he turned into a diabetic sugar-loving eunuch who sang at mattress store openings for all eternity!
But Meade didn't read the contract fully, and one purposely misplaced comma actually meant that Meade not only lost his soul, but he turned into a diabetic sugar-loving eunuch who sang at mattress store openings for all eternity!
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
....
()
Date: June 10, 2014 06:22PM
There was one about a black couple. The male worked hard, never committed any crime, model citizen. The female was respectful, quite, demure. They were married and both spoke perfect English.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
4c9wG
()
Date: June 10, 2014 06:55PM
I used to date this chick who worked at Woodward & Lothrop at Fair Oaks Mall in the mid 80s.
Sometimes I'd go to Highs at Greenbriar beforehand and pick up a rose for her. There were only 99 cents, and my girlfriend loved them.
She had her own car, and worked 6-7 nights a week. Half of those nights, I'd meet her at closing, with my rose, and we'd make out, or drive to Wendy's in Fairfax at Jermantown Road to get some food.
There was this one night, however, that was f-ed up. I was working my night job in Reston, and wasn't planning on meeting her that particular night. But she called my desk (no cell phones back then), all hysterical and said she was in front of my house, and could I immediately go home. I lived with my parents then, and that was about a mile from my job. I asked my boss for a half hour to run home and "do something", and he was okay with it.
I got in my car, drove straight home, and saw my girlfriend in front of my house, all crying and stuff. We hugged. She told me that when she left, a little later than usual, she went her car, and there was this running pick-up truck nearby. She got in her car to go home, looking around, seeing nobody, but she was inside her car. But when she tried to turn the ignition on, it was dead. Then this dude got out of his car, and starte walking toward her, crowbar in hand.
No one else was anywhere around.
She trembled, and again tried to start the car, and this time it started. I lived closer than her own home, so she headed straight for my house.
I looked at the car. Near the closed hood were these claw marks, as if the hood had been jacked open. I asked her if the car had been having battery problems. She said no. I said, "Open up the hood."
She did.
There was no battery.
Sometimes I'd go to Highs at Greenbriar beforehand and pick up a rose for her. There were only 99 cents, and my girlfriend loved them.
She had her own car, and worked 6-7 nights a week. Half of those nights, I'd meet her at closing, with my rose, and we'd make out, or drive to Wendy's in Fairfax at Jermantown Road to get some food.
There was this one night, however, that was f-ed up. I was working my night job in Reston, and wasn't planning on meeting her that particular night. But she called my desk (no cell phones back then), all hysterical and said she was in front of my house, and could I immediately go home. I lived with my parents then, and that was about a mile from my job. I asked my boss for a half hour to run home and "do something", and he was okay with it.
I got in my car, drove straight home, and saw my girlfriend in front of my house, all crying and stuff. We hugged. She told me that when she left, a little later than usual, she went her car, and there was this running pick-up truck nearby. She got in her car to go home, looking around, seeing nobody, but she was inside her car. But when she tried to turn the ignition on, it was dead. Then this dude got out of his car, and starte walking toward her, crowbar in hand.
No one else was anywhere around.
She trembled, and again tried to start the car, and this time it started. I lived closer than her own home, so she headed straight for my house.
I looked at the car. Near the closed hood were these claw marks, as if the hood had been jacked open. I asked her if the car had been having battery problems. She said no. I said, "Open up the hood."
She did.
There was no battery.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
please please me
()
Date: June 10, 2014 07:01PM
Kate Leach Wrote:
-------------------------------------------------------
> I don't remember if that was the name of the house
> that doesn't seem to belong in the neighborhood,
> but in Truro there was a house set way back that
> had lots of neighborhood kids telling stories. One
> was a soldier that was shot and killed in the eye
> while looking through a hole in the floor boards
> of the attic. I believe it was supposed to be
> during the Civil War but I could be wrong. The
> story changed as we got older. I wished I
> remembered the whole story but the story sure kept
> us kids from going anywhere close to the house.
> Especially since no one ever seemed to be living
> in the house. It was all creepy and mysterious but
> the stories kept us from exploring.
where was this house exactly?
-------------------------------------------------------
> I don't remember if that was the name of the house
> that doesn't seem to belong in the neighborhood,
> but in Truro there was a house set way back that
> had lots of neighborhood kids telling stories. One
> was a soldier that was shot and killed in the eye
> while looking through a hole in the floor boards
> of the attic. I believe it was supposed to be
> during the Civil War but I could be wrong. The
> story changed as we got older. I wished I
> remembered the whole story but the story sure kept
> us kids from going anywhere close to the house.
> Especially since no one ever seemed to be living
> in the house. It was all creepy and mysterious but
> the stories kept us from exploring.
where was this house exactly?
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
bunnybaby
()
Date: June 10, 2014 07:01PM
So I know we talked about bunnyman...but I grew up in the Franconia area and remember to this day our mom and dad would drive to Cappers nursery for gardening things. I was only about four or five at the time and I remember my mom telling my dad to keep a eye on us kids and watch for the bunnyman! Scared the crap out of us. This was late 60's, early 70's.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
It rakes a village
()
Date: June 10, 2014 08:45PM
Scary but True Wrote:
>
> But Meade didn't read the contract fully, and one
> purposely misplaced comma actually meant that
> Meade not only lost his soul, but he turned into a
> diabetic sugar-loving eunuch who sang at mattress
> store openings for all eternity!
Actually, Satan gave Meade the fame and fortune that his soul was worth.
Not much...
>
> But Meade didn't read the contract fully, and one
> purposely misplaced comma actually meant that
> Meade not only lost his soul, but he turned into a
> diabetic sugar-loving eunuch who sang at mattress
> store openings for all eternity!
Actually, Satan gave Meade the fame and fortune that his soul was worth.
Not much...
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
The goose's cry
()
Date: June 10, 2014 10:04PM
United States Naval Aviator Lieutenant Pete "Maverick" Mitchell flies an F-14A Tomcat off USS Enterprise over Burke with Nick "Goose" Bradshaw as his Radar Intercept Officer (RIO). Maverick and his wingman "Cougar" intercept MiG-28s over the Potomac. During the standoff, one of the MiGs manages to get a missile lock on Cougar. Maverick realizes that the MiG is only trying to intimidate Cougar and drives it off, but Cougar is too shaken afterward to land. Maverick defies orders and shepherds Cougar back to the carrier as both planes run critically low on fuel. Although disapproving of Maverick's reckless flying and repeated violations of rules, the Enterprise's CAG "Stinger" sends Maverick and Goose—now his top crew—to attend the Navy's Fighter Weapons School, known as "Top Gun", at NAS Fairfax.
Maverick's reckless flying both annoys and impresses Lieutenant Commander Rick "Jester" Heatherly and other instructors. He defeats Jester in exercises, but violates two rules of engagement in the process and is strongly reprimanded by the chief instructor, Commander Mike "Viper" Metcalf. Maverick continues to pursue Charlie and becomes a rival to top student Lieutenant Tom "Iceman" Kazanski who considers Maverick's methods dangerous and unsafe.
Near the end of the program, Maverick and Iceman both chase Jester. Under intense pressure from Maverick, Iceman breaks off. Maverick's F-14 flies through the jet wash of Iceman's aircraft and suffers a flameout of both engines, entering a flat spin from which he cannot recover, forcing both Maverick and Goose to eject. Goose ejects directly into the jettisoned aircraft canopy, which breaks his neck, killing him.
Legend has it that you can hear Goose wailing over Fairfax on warm summer nights.
Maverick's reckless flying both annoys and impresses Lieutenant Commander Rick "Jester" Heatherly and other instructors. He defeats Jester in exercises, but violates two rules of engagement in the process and is strongly reprimanded by the chief instructor, Commander Mike "Viper" Metcalf. Maverick continues to pursue Charlie and becomes a rival to top student Lieutenant Tom "Iceman" Kazanski who considers Maverick's methods dangerous and unsafe.
Near the end of the program, Maverick and Iceman both chase Jester. Under intense pressure from Maverick, Iceman breaks off. Maverick's F-14 flies through the jet wash of Iceman's aircraft and suffers a flameout of both engines, entering a flat spin from which he cannot recover, forcing both Maverick and Goose to eject. Goose ejects directly into the jettisoned aircraft canopy, which breaks his neck, killing him.
Legend has it that you can hear Goose wailing over Fairfax on warm summer nights.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
lookitup
()
Date: June 10, 2014 10:11PM
Longfellow MS in Falls Church is supposed to be the most haunted school in Virginia.
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Nike wearing faggot
()
Date: June 11, 2014 01:56AM
Meade got more in the bargain than just his singing career.
He got romance too.
Attachments:
He got romance too.
Attachments:
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
Bad Smell in Hotel Room
()
Date: June 24, 2014 08:20AM
Strange Smells From The Hotel Room
http://www.halloweenghoststories.com/legends/strange1-2.html
Urban Legend: A couple check into a remote hotel and smell a strange, rotting smell coming from the bed. After complaining to the desk clerk, they discover that a dead body has been stashed in the box springs. Unfortunately, this tale has true roots.
The Story:
Most of these stories take place at a Las Vegas, Nevada hotel either in the city or in the desert in a remote location. They have been around since the early 1990s. There have been cases like this actually happen around the country. Under the bed or in the pedestal for a matters makes a great quick hiding place for a dead body that needs to be stashed out of the way. In each case, it wasn't until the smell brought attention to the body, that it was discovered.
Some Examples:
On June10th, 1999, the rapidly decomposing body of a 64-year-old man was discovered inside the bed in Room 112 at the Burgundy Motor Inn in Atlantic City, New Jersey. A German couple on vacation had spent the night sleeping over the man's remains and had put up with a rank smell all night. It was their complaint to the manager about the smell which led to the discovery of the corpse.
In July of 1996, a woman's body was found under a mattress in the Colorado Boulevard Travelodge in Pasadena, CA. The motel's staff discovered her ten days after her death after a guest had complained for several days of a foul odor coming from that room.
In Virginia in 1989, a man, disposed of the remains of his two murder victims this way: the first was a 27-year-old woman, who was discovered in May under the floor of a motel room on Route 1, the second was a 29-year-old woman, who turned up in June under a bed in the Alexandria Econo Lodge. In the first case, the killer first kept her body partially hidden under his bed for two days, then subsequently placed it in the crawl space under the carpeted floor. Her presence seemingly didn't bother him, because he didn't move out of that room until three or four weeks later. Both girls' bodies were eventually found after other guests complained about the stink.
In Mineola, New York, motel in 1988, a body turned up in a box spring. The remains of a 29-year-old woman were found at the Oceanside Motel. Again, the body was discovered days later and only after other patrons complained about the smell. At least two other guests unknowingly cohabited with the body before it was found, and at least one guest refused to stay in that room because of the smell.
This legend was used in the 1995 Quentin Tarantino film "Four Rooms"
http://www.halloweenghoststories.com/legends/strange1-2.html
Urban Legend: A couple check into a remote hotel and smell a strange, rotting smell coming from the bed. After complaining to the desk clerk, they discover that a dead body has been stashed in the box springs. Unfortunately, this tale has true roots.
The Story:
Most of these stories take place at a Las Vegas, Nevada hotel either in the city or in the desert in a remote location. They have been around since the early 1990s. There have been cases like this actually happen around the country. Under the bed or in the pedestal for a matters makes a great quick hiding place for a dead body that needs to be stashed out of the way. In each case, it wasn't until the smell brought attention to the body, that it was discovered.
Some Examples:
On June10th, 1999, the rapidly decomposing body of a 64-year-old man was discovered inside the bed in Room 112 at the Burgundy Motor Inn in Atlantic City, New Jersey. A German couple on vacation had spent the night sleeping over the man's remains and had put up with a rank smell all night. It was their complaint to the manager about the smell which led to the discovery of the corpse.
In July of 1996, a woman's body was found under a mattress in the Colorado Boulevard Travelodge in Pasadena, CA. The motel's staff discovered her ten days after her death after a guest had complained for several days of a foul odor coming from that room.
In Virginia in 1989, a man, disposed of the remains of his two murder victims this way: the first was a 27-year-old woman, who was discovered in May under the floor of a motel room on Route 1, the second was a 29-year-old woman, who turned up in June under a bed in the Alexandria Econo Lodge. In the first case, the killer first kept her body partially hidden under his bed for two days, then subsequently placed it in the crawl space under the carpeted floor. Her presence seemingly didn't bother him, because he didn't move out of that room until three or four weeks later. Both girls' bodies were eventually found after other guests complained about the stink.
In Mineola, New York, motel in 1988, a body turned up in a box spring. The remains of a 29-year-old woman were found at the Oceanside Motel. Again, the body was discovered days later and only after other patrons complained about the smell. At least two other guests unknowingly cohabited with the body before it was found, and at least one guest refused to stay in that room because of the smell.
This legend was used in the 1995 Quentin Tarantino film "Four Rooms"
Re: Local Urban Legends
Posted by:
A Baker's Dozen
()
Date: June 24, 2014 08:35AM
Not Local, but I think you'll find it interesting...
A Baker's Dozen
http://americanfolklore.net/folklore/2008/11/a_bakers_dozen.html
Back in the old days, I had a successful bake-shop in Albany. I had a good business, a plump wife, and a big family. I was a happy man. But trouble came to my shop one year in the guise of an ugly old woman. She entered my shop a few minutes before closing and said: “I wish to have a dozen cookies.” She pointed to my special Saint Nicholas cookies that were sitting out on a tray. So I counted out twelve cookies for her.
The old woman’s eyes narrowed when she saw the cookies. “Only twelve?” she asked. I knew at once what she wanted. There were some bakers in town who sometimes gave an extra cookie to their customers, but I was appalled by the custom. What man of sense would give away an extra cookie for free?
“I asked for a dozen cookies, and you only give me twelve,” the woman said.
“A dozen is twelve, my good woman, and that is what I have given you,” I replied.
“I ordered a dozen cookies, not twelve,” said the old woman.
I was upset by this demand. I always gave my customers exactly what they paid for. But I was a thrifty man, and it was against my nature to give away something for nothing.
“I have a family to support,” I said stiffly. “If I give away all my cookies, how can I feed my family? A dozen is twelve, not thirteen! Take it or leave it!”
“Very well,” said she, and left the shop without taking the cookies.
From that moment, my luck changed. The next day, my cakes were stolen out of my shop, and the thieves were never found. Then my bread refused to rise. For a week, every loaf of bread I made was so heavy that it fell right through the oven and into the fire. The next week, the bread rose so high that it actually floated up the chimney. I was frightened when I saw the loaves floating away across the rooftops. That was the first moment I realized I had been bewitched. It was then that I remembered the old woman who came to my shop, and I was afraid.
The next week, the old woman appeared again in my shop and demanded a baker’s dozen of the latest batch of my cookies. I was angry. How dare she show her face in my shop after all the bad luck she sent my way? I cursed her soundly and showed her the door.
Things became worse for me then. My bread soured, and my olykoeks (donuts) were a disgrace. Every cake I made collapsed as soon as it came out of the oven, and my gingerbread children and my cookies lost their flavor. Word was getting around that my bake-shop was no good, and one by one, my customers were falling away. I was angry now, and stubborn. No witch was going to defeat me. When she came to my bake-shop a third time to demand a baker’s dozen of cookies, I told her to go to the devil and I locked the door behind her.
After that day, everything I baked was either burnt or soggy, too light or too heavy. My customers began to avoid my cursed shop, even those who had come to me every day for years. Finally, my family and I were the only ones eating my baking, and my money was running out. I was desperate. I took myself to church and began to pray to Saint Nicholas, the patron Saint of merchants, to lift the witch’s curse from myself and my family.
“Come and advise me, Saint Nicholas, for my family is in dire straights and I need good counsel against this evil witch who stands against us,” I prayed. Then I trudged wearily back to my empty shop, wondering what to do.
I stirred up a batch of Saint Nicholas cookies and put them into the oven to bake, wondering how this lot would turn out. Too much cinnamon? Too little? Burnt? Under-done? To my surprise, they came out perfectly. I frosted them carefully, and put my first successful baking in weeks onto a tray where they could be seen through the window. When I looked up, Sinterklaas (Saint Nicholas) was standing in front of me.
I knew him at once, this patron Saint of merchants, sailors, and children. He was not carrying his gold staff or wearing the red bishop’s robes and mitered hat that appeared on the figure I had just frosted on my cookies. But the white beard and the kindly eyes were the same. I was trembling so much my legs would not hold me, so I sat down on a stool and looked up at the Saint standing so near I could have touched him. His eyes regarded me with such sadness it made me want to weep.
Saint Nicholas said softly: “I spent my whole life giving money to those in need, helping the sick and suffering, and caring for little children, just as our Lord taught us. God, in his mercy, has been generous to us, and we should be generous to those around us.”
I could not bear to look into his eyes, so I buried my face in my hands.
“Is an extra cookie such a terrible price to pay for the generosity God has shown to us?” he asked gently, touching my head with his hand.
Then he was gone. A moment later, I heard the shop door open, and footsteps approached the counter. I knew before I looked up that the ugly old woman had returned to asked me for a dozen Saint Nicholas cookies. I got up slowly, counted out thirteen cookies, and gave them to the old woman, free of charge.
She nodded her head briskly. “The spell is broken,” she said. “From this time onward, a dozen is thirteen.”
And from that day onward, I gave generously of my baking and of my money, and thirteen was always, for me, a baker’s dozen.
A Baker's Dozen
http://americanfolklore.net/folklore/2008/11/a_bakers_dozen.html
Back in the old days, I had a successful bake-shop in Albany. I had a good business, a plump wife, and a big family. I was a happy man. But trouble came to my shop one year in the guise of an ugly old woman. She entered my shop a few minutes before closing and said: “I wish to have a dozen cookies.” She pointed to my special Saint Nicholas cookies that were sitting out on a tray. So I counted out twelve cookies for her.
The old woman’s eyes narrowed when she saw the cookies. “Only twelve?” she asked. I knew at once what she wanted. There were some bakers in town who sometimes gave an extra cookie to their customers, but I was appalled by the custom. What man of sense would give away an extra cookie for free?
“I asked for a dozen cookies, and you only give me twelve,” the woman said.
“A dozen is twelve, my good woman, and that is what I have given you,” I replied.
“I ordered a dozen cookies, not twelve,” said the old woman.
I was upset by this demand. I always gave my customers exactly what they paid for. But I was a thrifty man, and it was against my nature to give away something for nothing.
“I have a family to support,” I said stiffly. “If I give away all my cookies, how can I feed my family? A dozen is twelve, not thirteen! Take it or leave it!”
“Very well,” said she, and left the shop without taking the cookies.
From that moment, my luck changed. The next day, my cakes were stolen out of my shop, and the thieves were never found. Then my bread refused to rise. For a week, every loaf of bread I made was so heavy that it fell right through the oven and into the fire. The next week, the bread rose so high that it actually floated up the chimney. I was frightened when I saw the loaves floating away across the rooftops. That was the first moment I realized I had been bewitched. It was then that I remembered the old woman who came to my shop, and I was afraid.
The next week, the old woman appeared again in my shop and demanded a baker’s dozen of the latest batch of my cookies. I was angry. How dare she show her face in my shop after all the bad luck she sent my way? I cursed her soundly and showed her the door.
Things became worse for me then. My bread soured, and my olykoeks (donuts) were a disgrace. Every cake I made collapsed as soon as it came out of the oven, and my gingerbread children and my cookies lost their flavor. Word was getting around that my bake-shop was no good, and one by one, my customers were falling away. I was angry now, and stubborn. No witch was going to defeat me. When she came to my bake-shop a third time to demand a baker’s dozen of cookies, I told her to go to the devil and I locked the door behind her.
After that day, everything I baked was either burnt or soggy, too light or too heavy. My customers began to avoid my cursed shop, even those who had come to me every day for years. Finally, my family and I were the only ones eating my baking, and my money was running out. I was desperate. I took myself to church and began to pray to Saint Nicholas, the patron Saint of merchants, to lift the witch’s curse from myself and my family.
“Come and advise me, Saint Nicholas, for my family is in dire straights and I need good counsel against this evil witch who stands against us,” I prayed. Then I trudged wearily back to my empty shop, wondering what to do.
I stirred up a batch of Saint Nicholas cookies and put them into the oven to bake, wondering how this lot would turn out. Too much cinnamon? Too little? Burnt? Under-done? To my surprise, they came out perfectly. I frosted them carefully, and put my first successful baking in weeks onto a tray where they could be seen through the window. When I looked up, Sinterklaas (Saint Nicholas) was standing in front of me.
I knew him at once, this patron Saint of merchants, sailors, and children. He was not carrying his gold staff or wearing the red bishop’s robes and mitered hat that appeared on the figure I had just frosted on my cookies. But the white beard and the kindly eyes were the same. I was trembling so much my legs would not hold me, so I sat down on a stool and looked up at the Saint standing so near I could have touched him. His eyes regarded me with such sadness it made me want to weep.
Saint Nicholas said softly: “I spent my whole life giving money to those in need, helping the sick and suffering, and caring for little children, just as our Lord taught us. God, in his mercy, has been generous to us, and we should be generous to those around us.”
I could not bear to look into his eyes, so I buried my face in my hands.
“Is an extra cookie such a terrible price to pay for the generosity God has shown to us?” he asked gently, touching my head with his hand.
Then he was gone. A moment later, I heard the shop door open, and footsteps approached the counter. I knew before I looked up that the ugly old woman had returned to asked me for a dozen Saint Nicholas cookies. I got up slowly, counted out thirteen cookies, and gave them to the old woman, free of charge.
She nodded her head briskly. “The spell is broken,” she said. “From this time onward, a dozen is thirteen.”
And from that day onward, I gave generously of my baking and of my money, and thirteen was always, for me, a baker’s dozen.