The Haunted House of Moore's Flat
Kentucky is rich in stories of ghosts. Many are the tales of the forlorn spirits trapped between this world and the next in the area whose name means "the Dark and Bloody Ground". Here is a true ghost story related to me by my mother from when she was a young girl living up in an area called Moore's Flat in Eastern Kentucky.
I was, oh, around 5, maybe 6, years of age when Mom and Dad moved us all out to Moore's Flat. There were still several of us living at home, although most of the older one's had already married and moved out. There was still about 8 of us left living at home.
The house was a big old farm house, pretty common type back in those days, with a porch that went almost all the way around it. It was an old house even then, late 1800s, early 1900s I reckon. We hadn't been living there a week when strange things started happening.
First it was just noises coming from the yard - sounds of an ax hitting wood, and this would be in the dead of night when everyone was in the bed. And, then there were the sounds of the what sounded like a party, or at least a lot of people talking, but you could never actually hear what was being said. While this 'party' would be going on, what sounded like an argument would start and you would hear the back door open, and then hear what sounded like a couple of people running around the house on the porch. Then you'd hear a scuffle, and then a sort of bubbly sounding scream. And, then the front door knob would rattle.
There was this really horrible stain on the front porch right in front of the door that looked like blood and, mom, no matter how hard she scrubbed could never get it cleaned away. Of course, we were poor, and dad was a cantankerous man and he was a mean man a lot of the time too. He decided he wasn't going to be run off by any scary noises and we could all just quick bellyaching about it and quit letting things scare us. He said that if there were any haints then they could damn well shut up too.
I guess the ghosts took it as a challenge because things got worse. Mom put up with the strange going's on's for a while until she started seeing the shadow of a person on a wall sometimes. My brother's had been seeing it too, and had started having the covers yanked off of them in the middle of the night and feeling like they were being slapped on the legs.
She had her daddy and my papaw, come and stay with us. Papaw was a religious man and decided after he experienced some of these things the first night he was there he was going to get to the bottom of them. Some people say you can command something to show itself and make it do it by saying the three highest names in the bible, God the Father, Son, and Holy Ghost, so the next night my papaw sat in a chair in front of the front door and waited for things to start. He waited until he heard the sounds of a couple of people running across the porch and then stood up and grabbed the door knob. When the knob started rattling he told whatever it was to show itself in the name of God the Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost and yanked the door open. He slammed it shut as fast as he opened it and had went sheet white. He never would tell us what he saw, not even before he died. Whatever he saw he took that secret to his grave.
We found out a little history about the old house from some neighbors. It seems there had been a party there, many years before, in the early 1900s. And, a couple of old boys got to fighting over a woman. Seems one of the men was accusing the other one of messing with his wife. They were both drunk too. The one fellow decided he was going to kill the one he accused of messing with his woman and chased him down. The guy who got killed ran out the back door and around the house, the killer followed him. They ran across the porch, and the killer caught the old boy as he got to the front door and cut him to pieces with a knife. The guy died right in front of the door while trying to get the door open.
Contributed by Simone Mefford. Copyright © 2007 True Ghost Tales all rights reserved. No part of this story may be used without permission.
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