"* Herald & Lantern 23 May '84

No One Dared Investigate

By SAM Kl'NCEVIC H The night has siowly spread its blanket over the city, and the streets were strangely quiet. Drifting silently in from the sea. a chilling mist settles over all. In the distance, a bell dimly tolls the hour. It is midnight.. k Out of the swirling mist comes the sound of approaching footsteps; they pause, and a shadowy figure stands before an old house. Sldwly the figure approaches the doorway, silently moves up the steps and fades through the door that never opened. The figure has disappeared. Suddenly the mist has parted and a full moon is glaring through. The old house is now in full light. Then from the inside comes the sound of creaking stairs, the groaning of floor boards, and the windows rattle. They continue through the night. THE HOURS PASS, the mist is gone, and out of the east comes the first glow of dawn. The old house is quiet now. as daylight reveals the house as shabby. weed grown, and sad. The old house will remain that way. until the next full of the moon when an old sea captain, long gone, will return to his home at ("ape May Court House. And once again the old house will rejoice at the captain's return. Many sea captains lived at one time on the New Jersey Cape, some merchant ship, captains, some of them jyhalers.^ftr every town, there was at least one captain who called it home. As it was with Avalon. the whaling captain was home from the sea to stay. HE HAD MADE his final voyage and skippered his last ship. Ask the Gardiner family of Avalon. They are housekeepers for a ghostly captain who is home to stay. It all began in the old house they first occupied, the old captain's house. Many of the captain's belongings were still there : books, momentoes. harpoons and chests.

One day as Mrs. Gardiner was browsing through some of the old books, she felt a firm hand on her shoulder as if some one was trying to get her attention. She turned around expecting to see her husband. SHE WAS shocked, as no one was there. Her husband was on the far side of the room, seated and reading. There were other incidents she never spoke about as she did not want to be accused of an overactive imagination. There were times when the doorknobs turned, and sounds of footsteps on the stairs, when no one was there. Then one day Mrs. Gardiner reached a breaking point. As a doorknob turned she shouted, "All right, captain, if you want to come irr, come in. but stop being annoying." The door knob stopped turning, and never did so again. Some time later, the Gardiners had to move to a nearby house, as the old house was to be relocated. The captain, it seems, cfiose to move also, but was soon displeased with the newlocation. - THERE WAS no base ment for his harpoons and chests, so they remained at the old house. So the unhappy captain began being destructive, smashing chinaware. opening and slammiv.g doors and generally making noise. "I don't like all this trouble making. Mrs. Gardiner says, but I think I understand. The old captain doesn't like the loss of his cellar; he has no favorite place to stay. Maybe some day he will find he is welcome here, and will become easier to live with. I am sure no ghost could ask for more than that." Whoier captains in their day lived in many places on the Jersey Cape. Cape May Town was no exception. Just a bit north of here, is an area known as Higbee Beach. At this place was a whalers' station in the middle 1600s. Higbee's Landing it was called then. ACCORDING TO the

IUCCJI ycupie, ii wua ncie that William Penn had his first home, before he located in Philadelphia. The house was then known as the Higbee House. The house was built in three sections, one of which is ? said to belong to Penn. Shortly after Penn had . moved to Philadelphia, the Higbee Hquse became an inn. Here the seafaring i men liked to gather, swap- | ping stories, drinking, fighting and to spend the night. Among those who came here were Captain Kidd and Blackbeard himself. As the stories go to the present day. many a I captive held by the pirates for ransom was chained in the garrets of the Higbee House to await the payment. But as fate would have it, some were never released, and were left behind by the pirates to die. IN LATER years when pirates no longer came to the Jersey shore, travelers at the old inn had reported the sounds of footsteps and the dragging of chains coming from the attic j above. But no one dared to i investigate for fear of what may be found. Today the Higbee House no longer exists, except for . some scattered foundation stones and an old decaying ice house. Further north on the 1 Delaware Bay stands the old village of Town Bank. . As the older local people say, here once was the:

Town Bank House, the ; local inn. And, they say, strange and unexplained events took place. The strangest of all was repeated time and i time again, with no logical ; reason or answer As one ; resident witnessed and v| recalled, there was the ■ sound of something rolling | or falling down the main ■; stairway. | AS THE NOISE reached ; the bottom, the nearbydoorway would swing wide open and remain that way ; until closed by human hand. •£ The same thing would happen often, always late j on moonless nights. The old house and inn is gone now. 1 and not many remember it or what happened there. There are times when ghosts or spirits or what you may choose to call them, will appear at unlikely times and unlikely places. Such is the case at Cold Spring Church, also known as the "Old Brick" church. SOME YEARS ago it was first reported by its sexton. Furman Garrctson, who on several occasions while in the church basement was confronted by a shapeless spirit with large, fiery eyes. Nothing threatening occurred other than the apparition's frightening appearance. But the causes or the reasons for the presence of those fiery eyes was never found. It seems no one has ever

dared to stay in that basement long enough to find out. NOT FAR FROM Cold Spring is a place called Sally Marshall's Crossing, but in past years it was known as Golder's Hole The area has the reputation of a swampy, spirit-infested marshland. At one edge of this swamp was an old deserted house with a tumbled down porch, overgrown with weeds and vines. Some townsfolk claim to have witnessed a glowing ball of light rise out of the swamp, roll across the house porch, plunge into the marshland, and vanish. As for the townsfolk, they say it it sufely the spirit of some pirate trying to escape the swamp where he was thrown for reasons not known. The old house may no longer be there, but the spirit of the swamp most certainly still struggles to be free. MANY SEAFARERS have come and gone from the Jersey Cape, and many are here today. All, I am sure, have a great respect for the powers of the sea. But fear not, lads, for there are spirits of the seas who watch over you, and only a selected few are called to join them. Such was the time when Joshuah Slocum, at age 52,

set sail from Boston to sail I alone around the world. As he was in the south Atlantic I and all was going well, a sudden squall struck. His 36-foot craft, the i Spray, was taking severe punishment. Joshuah, who was asleep below, \.was 1 roughly awakened, and rushed to go above to shorten sail. Before he got on deck he was thrown against the overhead^ and knocked unconscious, T AN HOUR passed, And Joshuah awoke. Quickly he headed for the hatchway and looked up. To his amazement there was a strange man at the helm, dressed in clothing of a time long past. Joshuah called out, "Who are you? From where did you come?" The strange man looked at Joshuah and said, "I am the navigator of Columbus' ship Pinto, and I am here to help you." At this point Joshuah collapsed. He awoke later to find the seas \tfere calm, the sails were reefed, and the strange helmsman was gone. Joshuah and his craft were saved. And so Joshuah completed his voyage around the world, but at no time was he ever alone. At another time, at another place, Joshuah was called to join the spirits of the seas.

jS «" aWl, ' Sam Kuncevich and his wife, Rose, divide their time between their homes in Philadelphia and Villas. Amateur historian, free-lance writer and professional illustrator, he is a retired technical illustrator from the Philadelphia naval shipyard. His articles and illustrations have appeared in the Philadelphia newspapers and in "Parade," the Sunday newspaper supplement. ' <&r.

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