This story a part of the True Ghost Stories page on Obiwan's UFO-Free Paranormal Page. Please do not copy or distribute without permission from Obiwan and/or the original author!
From: iamericab@aol.com (IamEricaB)
Newsgroups: alt.folklore.ghost-stories
Subject: Erica's Stories: Hangin' Tree
Date: 9 Apr 1999 05:49:59 GMT
This is a story about old Grampa Roberts, great grandfather to my pal Robert (yea...his name is Robert Roberts....). His family lived in a holler in West Virginia, down a lonely dirt road about 10 miles from the nearest town.
It seems that this lonely dirt road ( this being turn of the century West Virginia, EVERYTHING was on a lonely dirt road ) ran by the local cemetary, beside which grew a massive, gnarled old oak tree which hung low over the road. It had a thick bough which made it the local "Hangin' Tree." Lots of legends grew up around that potter's field cemetary and the ancient Hangin Tree....some said you could hear the strangled cries of the condemned late on dark nights, and others claimed to have seen haints and spooks crossing the cemetary grounds, or up in the branches of the tree. Sometimes a swinging body could be seen hanging from the Hangin Tree, only to disapper seconds later.
Well it seems that one night ol' Grampa Roberts stayed out far too late at the local saloon, and it was well after midnight before he climbed onto his horse and began the 10 mile trip back home. About 7 miles into the journey, he had to pass the Hangin Tree, which he had done probably hundreds of times in his life with no incidents. This particular night, however, something was different....as he approached the cemetary his heart began to race. Maybe it was the late hour, maybe it was the home brew 'shine he drank, but the closer he got to the Hangin Tree, the faster his heart raced. Even his horse seemed to feel the presence in the air that night. About 100 feet from the low hanging bough of the ominous Hangin Tree, his horse balked. It stopped in its tracks and refused to budge.
Now the last thing ol' Grampa Roberts wanted to do was sit there on a spooked horse at midnight beside a cemetary, so he began to urge the horse onward. Everything he tried was to no avail. Thats when he saw it....a dark shape, completely silent and low to the ground, moving among the tombstones. He watched it for a few seconds, eyes wide and heart racing. Then something else caught his eye: in the Hangin Tree, far up in the brances, was a pale white glow, which he later described as being about "half as bright as a lantern, and as big as a mushmelon (canteloupe)." According to his story, this pale light moved in among the branches as if it were floating.
That was it for him....he heart leapt into his throat and he slammed his heels into the horses sides. Surprised and frightened, the horse took off at full gallop straight down the road....straight for the Hangin Tree....
Since it was the only way home, ol' Grampa Roberts just closed his eyes, prayed for Salvation and deliverence from the haints that plagued him, and stood in the stirups as his horse ran on....the Hangin Tree and the floating globe of light grew ever closer...
What happened next, in his words was "I seen a bright flash, and thats all I recall o' that night....whatever was up'nat thar tree musta got me...."
Early that morning, ol' Gramma Roberts awoke to the sound of a horse coming up the road, and peeped out her window so see her husbands horse, riderless, meandering home. Worried, she ran out and caught up to it, then mounted up to go look for her wayward husband. She started off down the road, with the bightness of dawn behind her. Eventually, she drew up to the Hangin Tree, and the sight that met her eyes made her heart skip a beat...
Her husband was out cold, on the ground at the foot of the tree...
It seems that when he stood in the saddle and closed his eyes, he miscalculated just how low the Hangin Tree leaned over the road....in his fear and haste, he knocked himself completely senseless.
The one thing that bothered him, however, was that he lay unconscious for hours with two haints from the cemetary right around him. From that day forward, whenever he passed the Hangin Tree, he claimed that he would get sick to the stomach, and that he would hear whispers and voices out in the darkness...
Erica Lynn B
========== Amateur Ghost hunter, Amateur Archaeologist, Amateur Folklorist, Amateur Paleontologist, Amateur Historian, Amateur Cryptozoologist, Professional Amateur.