Ghost walk follow-up

I wasn't sure if we'd make it or not, but the kids voted at the eleventh hour to go on the Waxhaw ghost walk. We met up with the others outside Waxhaw UMC. I have no training in estimating crowds, but I suppose there were about 100 people give or take a few. Most everyone in attendance were adults or teens, but there were a smattering of younger kids throughout the crowd.

Cecilia Neal led us on the ghost walk where she passed along tales of death and true crimes that are still apparently leaving their mark on Waxhaw today. She started out with a story from a house that once stood at the Waxhaw Farmer's Market regarding a father who just couldn't take his four kids anymore and hung himself out the window. (By the way, these are just my recollections so some of the details may be off. Feel free to correct me if I'm wrong.)

Upon hearing this, my wife and I exchanged glances as we weren't sure our kids (youngest in kindergarten) needed to be hearing about stuff like this. But thankfully it didn't appear they were listening real closely and the stories didn't seem quite so bad for the most part.

My youngest was cold and tired, so he only lasted about 25 minutes and spent the rest of the time waiting in a warm car with my wife. My oldest and I lasted one hour before heading home.
My goal next year is to hear the entire thing.

But it was definitely interesting to hear about the apparitions floating around Waxhaw. We heard stories of them from Stewart's Village Gallery, the old surf shop, and a slew of tales from the stretch of businesses starting with the used book store.

Donna took some photos during the ghost tour and posted them here. I personally haven't examined them closely, but it wouldn't surprise me if a specter popped up in one later upon closer examination.

By the way, the Union County Weekly had an article on the walk before Friday. It contained a handful of interesting tidbits on Waxhaw, including this one:

Many may be surprised to learn, according to Neal, that one of our nation’s last witch-hunts occurred in Waxhaw. In the 1700s, the townspeople accused Nancy Craighead of witchcraft after her preacher husband died. To arrive at a verdict, those in charge dug up his body and forced his wife to touch his skull. A finger bleed would be proof of her true witch identity. Lucky for Craighead, her finger never bled, and town leaders dropped the charges.