For such a small state, Maryland delivers big on folklore. Maybe it's the fact that it's so old (one of the thirteen original colonies, in fact). Wars have been fought here, history has been made and people from all over have settled in the state, bringing their own stories with them. Mix it all together, and you have a state that's ripe with tall tales and spooky stories.
Take Chessie, the supposed sea monster that dwells in the Chesapeake Bay. The bay's certainly big enough to hide a slippery rascal like Chessie, and he's been seen a few times since the 40's. Usually, Chessie is described as a huge aquatic snake, though he might need to go on a diet, since a manatee who strayed unusually far north was once mistaken for Chessie. It sounds like Chessie might not be anything more than a fun story told by those who live by the bay, but the Smithsonian held a mini-symposium on the topic of the beast--so whatever it is, people take it seriously!
Photo via the U.S. Fish and Wildlife Service
(Chessie gets pretty good gigs for a monster that may not even exist, huh?)
Then there's the 'demon truck' that supposedly chases drivers unwary enough to be on the seven hills of Ellicott CIty at midnight. Ellicott City is already pretty well-known for being a spooky hotspot, but I've been on the hilly roads outside of town during the day, and it's scary enough without the threat of being run down by a ghostly truck. Is it just an urban legend, told and retold by kids who want to dare each other into driving the hills to prove their bravery? Or is something paranormal going on?
Let's move onto another monster--a mysterious man-goat called (rather obviously) the Maryland Goatman. He's half man, half goat, and supposedly calls Beltsville home. His origin stories vary. I'd recommend this Modern Farmer article for the title alone, but the gist of it is that a researcher at the nearby Agricultural Research Center was experimenting on goats, and somehow got Spidermanned into a goat creature (perhaps a bite from a radioactive goat?). Now he wanders around, sometimes with an axe, looking for victims.
Photo via rabblerabblerouser
(This, sadly, is not a photo of the Goatman. But maybe the Goatman would be more beloved if he were as cute as a baby goat.)
One of the best-known legends out of Maryland is a completely fabricated one--the Blair Witch. Spoiler alert from the late 90's, guys. The Blair Witch doesn't exist, and isn't even a real legend. The forest scenes weren't even shot outside of Burkittsville, but outside of Gaithersburg instead. All three of the kids in the movie are alive and well, and you can look them up on IMDB.
Photo via blairwitch.com
(You are not missing, guys. You are fine, and you have done interviews. Don't scare us like that.)
If you want a true Maryland witch story, you'll have to go to Leonardtown, where a woman named Moll Dyer lived in the 17th century. Accused of witchcraft, Dyer was chased from her home by angry townsfolk, and was driven out into the bitter cold. Her body was found frozen to a large rock--and her curse supposedly still exists to this day. This was a period of time when people really were put to death for being witches, and there's historical evidence proving it happened in Maryland.
Here's the thing. As much as I'd like to be, I can't be from everywhere in Maryland at once. I don't know all the juicy secrets in all the cities and counties, and though I've done research on these things, it's better to hear it from people who grew up with these stories. So comment with your local Maryland legends and stories. Is there a great urban legend in your town? Was someone burned as a witch or abducted by aliens? Is there a weird spot or a monster lurking around? Let me know, and I'll include the best ones in a follow-up story. All I ask is that you hold off on ghost stories if you can--I'm saving that for October. Let's get weird, Route One readers!
This post was written by Route One Apparel blogger, Eva Niessner.
18 comments
What about the story about a cemetery I think it’s lauden park in Baltimore md where there’s a tombstone of a chair and if you sit down on it the womans arms will open up and close squeezing you to death I think her name is black Aggie
thank you everyone for sharing these stories..i am willing to go and try all these out. I never knew Maryland had so much interesting stuff.
Btw I have heard lots about crybaby bridge…scary stuff.
Screaming Polly of Cecil co lots of different versions but she’s haunting the woods looking for her baby if u honk ur horn she’ll come screaming from the woods people say she is in earleville but I’ve heard she isn’t but I’ve heard the earleville story since I was a kid
You guys left out Peeping Tom, the flickergeist at the Ellicott City train tunnel. You have to stare down the tunnel for a whole hour without blinking, then he gets stuck in your eyes and every time you blink he starts closer until he kills you. He is also called Blinkman.
Though most of these Md. legends are ludicrously untrue, there were, over a period of many years, interactions with poltergeists inside “The Lawn” – an 1840’s-1850’s summer home, originally built by a Judge Dobbin (of Baltimore), on top of a high ridge at the bottom of what is now Old Lawyers Hill Road, in Elkridge (Howard Co.), Md. Poltergeists are relatively harmless but can be very annoying. Every owner of this home have had run-ins with these spirits. Even inside the surrounding guesthouses. In the 1960’s, my school friend at the time, lived in “The Lawn” with her relatives. I grew up less than a block away and knew her family. Many’s the time when she told me of locked doors opening, door keys missing, and when they all had dinner in her grandmother’s upstairs apartment, a bowl containing salad flew up to the ceiling. And it’s not like there were no witnesses! The next owners of The Lawn always complained of spirits. On a 3rd-storey porch railing, the owner had a long flower container planted with growing herbs. She no sooner planted the stuff and walked away briefly, when she returned, and saw all the plants were individually laid out, side by side, on the railing. Often, her son would remove his boots and put them by his bed, but when he wanted to get them, they’d be gone and discovered somewhere else. The house has important Elkridge history tied to it and each owner has experienced (without outside provocation or baiting legend), first-hand, individual knowledge of these energies. There is currently now yet another owner of The Lawn.