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Ghostly Encounters in Moonville Tunnel in Ohio

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Moonville Tunnel is some of the few remains of the mining community that used to be there. Now, the railroad tracks are gone, but it is said the ghosts of those who died along the tracks are still there, warning everyone for the oncoming train. 

Tucked deep within the dense, shadowy expanse of Zaleski State Forest lies Moonville, an abandoned railroad community whose eerie tales and spectral residents have remained, even though the living moved away. 

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While the town itself is long gone with only foundations of a few buildings, a cemetery as well as the railroad tunnel where the ghost stories come from. Its haunted legacy endures, centered around the infamous Moonville Tunnel—a foreboding passageway that continues to stir the imaginations of those who dare to visit.

Moonville Tunnel: Graffiti now covers the tunnel with no rail road tracks running through it anymore. It has become a local hot spot for local lore and ghost stories, many fueled by actual deaths that occurred along the dangerous railroad tracks. Source: Wikimedia

The Birth and Death of Moonville

Founded in the mid-19th century, Moonville was a modest mining community that sprang to life thanks to the railroad cutting through the rugged landscape. Its location, remote and isolated, made it an ideal spot for transporting coal and clay, but a dangerous one for the people who lived there. A small cluster of homes, a general store, a post office, and a cemetery where the heart of this tiny settlement of a few families.

However, Moonville was destined for an early grave. By the late 1940s, with the decline of the mining industry and the advent of more accessible transport routes, the town’s population dwindled. Eventually, the last remnants of the community faded into obscurity, leaving behind only whispers of its haunted past and the enduring structure of the Moonville Tunnel.

The Moonville Tunnel: A Portal to the Past

Today, the Moonville Tunnel stands as one of the few physical reminders of the town’s existence. The Moonville tunnel was also used as a footpath of the miners and their family walking along the tracks. This together with trains coming from both east and west on a single track caused a lot of deaths over the years, some say at least 27 deaths around the station and the tracks.

The tracks that once carried freight trains through this lonely stretch of forest have been removed, leaving a rugged path that winds through the trees, leading curious adventurers to the tunnel’s yawning mouth. Graffiti marks its ancient walls, and the tunnel’s darkness beckons with the promise of the unknown.

But it’s not just the tunnel’s history that draws visitors—it’s the ghosts that reportedly haunt its shadowy depths.

Moonville Tunnel: No railroad tracks run through the old tunnel anymore and the place is started to be reclaimed by nature. Even so, there are those who claim to see the ghosts of those trying to warn about oncoming trains. //Source: Wikimedia

The Ghosts of Moonville Tunnel

Since the late 1800s, stories of ghostly encounters in and around the Moonville Tunnel have been passed down through generations. The most famous of these spectral sightings is that of the Lantern Man. Described as a towering figure, close to eight feet tall, with a long white beard and glowing eyes, the Lantern Man is said to appear from the darkness swinging a luminous lantern. Clad in dirty overalls and a miner’s hat, he releases a terrifying scream that echoes through the tunnel, sending chills down the spines of those who hear it.

Legend has it that the Lantern Man was a brakeman who met a gruesome end beneath the wheels of a train. He fell asleep around 1859 according to some sources at work. Some say he had been drinking and just laid down to sleep on the tracks. It was a stormy night and he woke up when the sound of the train left the depot. Stumbling to the tracks, he fell and died.  

There is a newspaper article from the McArthur Democrat from MArch 31 in 1959. It says: “A brakesman on the Marietta & Cincinnati Railroad fell from the cars near Cincinnati Furnace, on last Tuesday March 29, 1859 and was fatally injured, when the wheels passing over and grinding to a shapeless mass the greater part of one of his legs. He was taken on the train to Hamden and Doctors Wolf and Rannells sent for to perform amputation, but the prostration of the vital energies was too great to attempt it. The man is probably dead ere this. The accident resulted from a too free use of liquor.”

His ghost now wanders the tracks, eternally searching for the lantern he lost in life, warning trespassers of impending doom as he tries to catch his train.

The Ghost from the Trainwrecks

There is also a story about the man being an engineer called Frank Lawhead, or sometimes called Theodore, who was driving his train along the tracks around 1880. The dispatch forgot to tell him about an oncoming train and they collided. Both he and a fireman onboard were killed.

“Cincinnati, Ohio, Nov. 5. – Two freight trains ran together on the Marietta and Cincinnati Railroad, near Moonville, on the eastern end of the road, yesterday. Engineer Frank Lawhead and Fireman Charles Krick were killed and six of the crew wounded, none fatally. The cause of the collision is said to have been the failure of the train dispatcher to notify the east-bound train of an order to the west-bound train to run on its time.”
– Chicago Tribune – Saturday, November 6th, 1880

His ghost is now haunting the tracks and the tunnel, and was said to be spotted by other engineers traveling the route, said to hold his lantern in his hand, still trying to stop the trains. These sightings are said to have happened all the way up to the 1980s until the railroad came to an end and the tracks were removed. 

The Lavender Lady

Another haunting figure is the Lavender Lady, an elderly woman whose presence is often accompanied by the faint scent of lavender. Sometimes she is called Mary Shea. According to local lore, she was gathering lavender near the tracks when she was tragically struck by a train. Others say that she was looking for her fiance who worked on the rail line when she was struck by the train and died.

When this is said to have happened is rarely mentioned, some citing it around 1905. Visitors to the tunnel have reported seeing her ghostly figure, dressed in old-fashioned clothing, gliding silently through the mist, smelling of lavender.

The Bully on the Tunnel

There is also the story of the ghost of Baldie Keeton being told. He was a resident of Moonville they say and a mean drunk who liked to fight, often bear hugging his opponent. One day he was kicked out from the Saloon and was found dead on the tracks, many believing it was murder. The legend says he throws pebbles from above the tunnel at those visiting, staring at you. 

It seems that this legend is a more recent one and not as often told as the other ones. The story of The Bully is often told by mothers to their children, telling them not to stay out after dark as The Bully would get them. 

Beyond these apparitions, there are tales of formless spirits—shadows that flicker just beyond the range of vision—and an unseen entity that hurls pebbles at those brave enough to enter the tunnel. These playful yet unsettling encounters leave visitors questioning the reality of what they’ve experienced.

A Pilgrimage to the Paranormal

Despite its chilling reputation, Moonville has become a popular destination for ghost hunters and those intrigued by the paranormal. The hike along Raccoon Creek to the tunnel offers a serene, if eerie, journey through nature, where the line between the living and the dead seems to blur.

In recent years, local efforts have worked to preserve the history and mystique of Moonville. Guided tours, ghost walks, and Halloween events invite the curious to explore the tunnel and surrounding areas, offering a glimpse into the town’s haunted legacy..

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References:

The Legend of Moonville

Moonville Tunnel

Moonville Tunnel

Moonville Tunnel Rail Trail | History and Ghost Stories | Directions |

https://victoriastravelsandtribulations.com/2023/08/16/moonville-tunnel-hike-scary-stories-told-in-the-dark

https://eu.dispatch.com/story/news/state/2022/12/25/ghost-hunting-visit-southeast-ohio-moonville-tunnel-spooks/69627112007

The Moonville Tunnel 

Moonville, Ohio – Wikipedia 

Five Murder Ballads

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What does the Appalachian range, the Scottish Highland, the Scandinavian mountains and Nick Cave have in common? Filled of the sub genre murder ballads. A strange phenomenon we don’t hear much in songs anymore. Often a man killing his girlfriend or a mother killing her children, these bone chilling songs have lasted centuries, growing and changing according to the time and place. But one thing remains, someone is murdered.

Child Owlet

Most likely Scottish. This creepy and bloody tale of a woman’s desire turned to a crime is bone chilling when you read behind the jolly tune.

Lyric

Lady Erskine sits intae her bower, a-sowing a silken seam,
A bonny shirt for Child Owlet as he goes out and in
His face was fair, long was his hair, she’s called him to come near
“Oh, you must cuckold Lord Ronald for all his lands and gear.”

“Oh, lady, hold your tongue for shame for such should ne’er be done.
How can I cuckold Lord Ronald and me his sister’s son?”
Then she’s ta’en out a small penknife that lay beside her head
She’s pricked herself below her breast which made her body bleed.

Lord Ronald’s come into her bower where she did make her moan.
“Oh, what is all this blood,” he said, “That shines on your breast bone?”
“Young Child Owlet, your sister’s son, is new gone from my bower.
If I’d not been a good woman I’d have been Child Owlet’s whore.”

Then he has taken Child Owlet, thrown him in prison strong
And all his men a council held to judge Child Owlet’s wrong
Some said, Child Owlet he should hang, some said that he should burn,
Some said they would he Child Owlet between wild horses torn.

“Ten horses in my stable stand, can run right speedily.
It’s you must to my stable go and take out four for me.”
They tied a horse unto each foot and one unto each hand.
They’ve sent them out o’er Elkin Moor as fast as they could run.

There was no stone on Elkin Moor, no broom nor bonny whin
But’s dripping with Child Owlet’s blood and pieces of his skin.
There was no grass on Elkin Moor, no broom nor bonny rush
But’s dripping with Child Owlet’s blood and pieces of his flesh.

Down in the Willow Garden

You click on an Everly Brother’s song and expect it to be a sugar sweet song about eternal love. Little did you know you were getting a well known bloody murder-ballad about a guy murdering his girlfriend.

Lyric

Down in the Willow garden
Where me and my love did meet
As we sat a-courtin’
My love fell off to sleep
I had a bottle of Burgundy wine
My love she did not know
So I poisoned that dear little girl
On the banks below

I drew a sabre through her
It was a bloody knife
I threw her in the river
Which was a dreadful sign
My father often told me
That money would set me free
If I would murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connolly

My father sits at his cabin door
Wiping his tear-dimmed eyes
For his only son soon shall walk
To yonder scaffold high
My race is run, beneath the sun
The scaffold now waits for me
For I did murder that dear little girl
Whose name was Rose Connelly

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The Maid and the Palmer

I don’t know what the deal is with mixing happy folk tunes with the grimmest of lyrics. But it does give it an extra dimension of creepiness.

Lyric

HE maid shee went to the well to washe,
      Refrain: Lillumwham, lillumwham!
The mayd shee went to the well to washe,
      Refrain: Whatt then? what then?
The maid shee went to the well to washe,
Dew fell of her lilly white fleshe.
      Refrain: Grandam boy, grandam boy, heye!
Leg a derry, leg a merry, mett, mer, whoope, whir!
Driuance, larumben, grandam boy, heye!
While shee washte and while shee ronge,
While shee hangd o the hazle wand.
There came an old palmer by the way,
Sais, ‘God speed thee well, thou faire maid!’
‘Hast either cupp or can,
To giue an old palmer drinke therin?’
Sayes, ‘I have neither cupp nor cann,
To giue an old palmer drinke therin.’
‘But an thy lemman came from Roome,
Cupps and canns thou wold find soone.’
She sware by God & good St. John,
Lemman had shee neuer none.
Sais, ‘Peace, faire mayd, you are forsworne!
Nine children you haue borne.
‘Three were buryed vnder thy bed’s head,
Other three vnder thy brewing leade.
‘Other three on yon play greene;
Count, maid, and there be 9.’
‘But I hope you are the good old man
That all the world beleeues vpon.
‘Old palmer, I pray thee,
Pennaunce that thou wilt giue to me.’
‘Penance I can giue thee none,
But 7 yeere to be a stepping-stone.
‘Other seaven a clapper in a bell,
Other 7 to lead an ape in hell.
‘When thou hast thy penance done,
Then thoust come a mayden home.’

‘SEVEN years ye shall be a stone,
      Refrain: . . . . .
For many a poor palmer to rest him upon.
      Refrain: And you the fair maiden of Gowden-gane
‘Seven years ye’ll be porter of hell,
And then I’ll take you to mysell.’
* * * * *
‘Weel may I be a’ the other three,
But porter of hell I never will be.’

Long Lankin

I mean. If you can listen to the Wainwright sister’s version of this murder ballad, I don’t know what will affect you.

Lyric

Said the Lord unto his Lady as he rode over the moss
“Beware of Long Lankin that lives amongst the gorse
Beware the moss, beware the moor, beware of Long Lankin
Be sure the doors are bolted well
Lest Lankin should creep in”
Said the Lord unto his Lady as he rode away
“Beware of Long Lankin that lives amongst the hay
Beware the moss, beware the moor, beware of Long Lankin
Be sure the doors are bolted well
Lest Lankin should creep in”
“Where’s the master of the house?”, says Long Lankin
“He’s ‘way to London”, says the nurse to him
“Where’s the lady of the house?”, says Long Lankin
“She’s up in her chamber”, says the nurse to him
“Where’s the baby of the house?”, says Long Lankin
“He’s asleep in the cradle”, says the nurse to him
“We will pinch him, we will prick him
We will stab him with a pin
And the nurse shall hold the basin
For the blood all to run in”So they pinched him and they pricked him
Then they stabbed him with a pin
And the false nurse held the basin
For the blood all to run in”Lady, come down the stairs, ” says Long Lankin
“How can I see in the dark?”, she says unto him
“You have silver mantles”, says Long Lankin
“Lady, come down the stairs by the light of them”
Down the stairs the lady came, thinking no harm
Lankin, he stood ready to catch her in his arms
There was blood all in the kitchen
There was blood all in the hall
There was blood all in the parlor
Where my lady she did fall
Now Long Lankin shall be hanged
From the gallows, oh, so high
And the false nurse shall be burned
In the fire close by
Said the Lord unto his Lady as he rode over the moss
“Beware of Long Lankin that lives amongst the gorse
Beware the moss, beware the moor, beware of Long Lankin
Make sure the doors are bolted well
Lest Lankin should creep in”

Where the Wild Roses Grow

Most of the songs on this list is older ballads. But murder ballads is not a died out genre. The king of creepy songs, Nick Cave, wrote Where the wild roses grows in 1996. He said in an interview: “Where The Wild Roses Grow” was written very much with Kylie in mind. I’d wanted to write a song for Kylie for many years. I had a quiet obsession with her for about six years. I wrote several songs for her, none of which I felt was appropriate to give her. It was only when I wrote this song, which is a dialogue between a killer and his victim, that I thought finally I’d written the right song for Kylie to sing. I sent the song to her and she replied the next day.”

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it, I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day

From the first day I saw her, I knew she was the one
She stared in my eyes and smiled
For her lips were the colour of the roses
That grew down the river, all bloody and wild

When he knocked on my door and entered the room
My trembling subsided in his sure embrace
He would be my first man, and with a careful hand
He wiped at the tears that ran down my face

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it, I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day

On the second day, I brought her a flower
She was more beautiful than any woman I’ve seen
I said, “Do you know where the wild roses grow
So sweet and scarlet and free?”

On the second day, he came with a single red rose
He said, “Give me your loss and your sorrow”
I nodded my head as I lay on the bed
If I show you the roses, will you follow?

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it, I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day

On the third day, he took me to the river
He showed me the roses and we kissed
And the last thing I heard was a muttered word
As he knelt above me with a rock in his fist

On the last day I took her where the wild roses grow
She lay on the bank, the wind light as a thief
And I kissed her goodbye, said, “All beauty must die”
And lent down and planted a rose between her teeth

They call me The Wild Rose
But my name was Elisa Day
Why they call me it, I do not know
For my name was Elisa Day
My name was Elisa Day
For my name was Elisa Day

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