Mount Chocorua is one the most striking of all the peaks within the White Mountains. Although it is the 100th highest peak in the range, its large bare summit is visible from all compass points. One would not hesitate to say the hill is magical and they would be right, for the mountain has a legend attached to it that has been recounted through the ages. Here now is the legend of Chocorua.

By Tom D'Agostino

The Old Burying Yard in York is actually the second cemetery that was implemented by the town. The first one was near York Beach but that became quite full over a short period of time. The graves date back as far as 1700 but it has become the burying ground of chief significance because of its historical content and of course, its ghosts. One of which is Mary Nasson’s.

Mary Nasson was a noted and respected herbalist in the community. It was because of her knowledge in healing with plants that she became known as the “White Witch.” This moniker has followed her through the centuries. She was born in 1745 and grew up in the York village. It was there that she married Samuel Nasson and settled down to a life of helping others in the little hamlet. It is said that she also was a skilled exorcist who rid many houses of demons and inflictions in her time. Her time was rather short though as Mary died on August 18, 1774 at the age of twenty-nine.

According to records, Mary had no children. Her ghost now roams the area where she is buried. Not only has her spirit been encountered in the burial grounds but across the street as well. Many mothers have sworn they have seen their children being pushed on the swings in the playground near the cemetery by an unseen force. When asked, the children say it is a nice young lady named Mary who is playing with them. Any local will tell you there is nothing to fear in the spirit of Mary Nasson. Perhaps she has stayed behind to play with the children she always wanted.

Her headstone is of strange interest as well. Not only does her portrait adorn the top of the marker, there is a great granite slab between the headstone and footstone. Legend has it that the townsfolk put it there after she died to keep the “White Witch” from rising out

of her grave. If that was the true purpose it may not have worked as well as they had planned. Actual records show that all of the graves in the burial ground were covered with a large granite slab due to the fact that the cemetery was close to farmland and the wandering livestock tended to dig up the interred. Some time later, a wall was erected to keep the animals out and the great slabs were taken from the graves and used to line the top of the wall. It seems that only one slab was not taken to build the wall. That was Mary’s. It is easy to spot as it sits alone in the far corner of the small graveyard. Perhaps being far away from the other stones, the builders of the wall sought the closer ones first then were finished before they could remove hers. I tend to believe they may have left the stone there because her husband was moving to Sanford. Each family was in charge of the upkeep of their graves and being so far away, he would not have been able to care for the grave so the townsfolk left the stone there to keep the livestock from uprooting her remains. It is presently the only grave in New England of such nature. People who visit the stone say it is warm to the touch. Many have sworn they could feel the temperature rise as they put their hands upon her obelisk. When we touched the grave it was warm despite the cool shade of a large maple tree.

By Thomas D’Agostino

This story comes from our book “Haunted Vermont.” Arlene and I want to let all the wonderful people in Northern Vermont to know we are still thinking about them.

Just seven miles from the Canadian border, Enosburg Falls is no doubt a Northern New England town. Named after General Roger Enos, this small village is typical of the wondrous charming hamlets seen throughout the region. It also boasts another aspect that makes New England so special, ghosts. One such place is the Enosburg Opera House. Dr. B.J. Kendall built the opera house in 1892 at the cost of ten thousand dollars. It featured both local and traveling entertainment until the 1950s. It also doubled as a place for town meetings and large school events.

Soon, a school gymnasium was erected. This, along with outdoor tourist activities and the advent of the television, left the opera house empty and decaying. It began to deteriorate quickly until a group called the Enosburg Opera House Association came to the rescue and gave the building a face-lift and new purpose. In 1993, full restoration was under way thanks to the help of the Vermont Historic Preservation Trust and architect Roland Batten. They all formed what is now called, Friends of the Opera House. The opera house once again glimmers with stage lights and hosts a wide variety of venues that are sure to please everyone. It also seems to host a spirit or two.

A man named Henry (sometimes called Willy) fell while working in the attic. He broke his leg and was unable to drag himself to any kind of aid. No one came around for days to check on the building so he was stranded up there where he eventually died from his injuries. Henry’s ghost seems to keep well hidden from the eyes of the living, although he does have a way of making his presence known in many mischievous ways.

Henry enjoys moving props and stealing playbooks. Even the renovations of the opera house failed to jostle Henry from his eternal feistiness. Both patrons and staff alike hear phantom footsteps in the otherwise empty attic on a regular basis. Jon Scott was Executive Director of the non-profit society that runs the opera house. He has heard Henry puttering around on many occasions when he was certain that there was no one else in the building other than himself.

Henry does not roam the entire building, however. He keeps his haunts confined to the second floor stage, hall, and attic. Perhaps the hustle and bustle of the ground floor, where the entrance and ticket booths are located, can become a bit too much for the shy ghost. He does keep rather quiet during performances suggesting that he might be a bit of a connoisseur of the performing arts. His spirit is not malevolent by any means, just in want to be noticed: maybe even in want to land a part in one of the plays. Whatever the case may be, it is probably safe to say that the term, “break a leg” is not used very often at the Enosburg Opera House.

Enosburg Opera House

By Thomas D’Agostino

This story comes from our book “Haunted Vermont.” Arlene and I want to let all the wonderful people in Northern Vermont to know we are still thinking about them.

Just seven miles from the Canadian border, Enosburg Falls is no doubt a Northern New England town. Named after General Roger Enos, this small village is typical of the wondrous charming hamlets seen throughout the region. It also boasts another aspect that makes New England so special, ghosts. One such place is the Enosburg Opera House. Dr. B.J. Kendall built the opera house in 1892 at the cost of ten thousand dollars. It featured both local and traveling entertainment until the 1950s. It also doubled as a place for town meetings and large school events.

Soon, a school gymnasium was erected. This, along with outdoor tourist activities and the advent of the television, left the opera house empty and decaying. It began to deteriorate quickly until a group called the Enosburg Opera House Association came to the rescue and gave the building a face-lift and new purpose. In 1993, full restoration was under way thanks to the help of the Vermont Historic Preservation Trust and architect Roland Batten. They all formed what is now called, Friends of the Opera House. The opera house once again glimmers with stage lights and hosts a wide variety of venues that are sure to please everyone. It also seems to host a spirit or two.

A man named Henry (sometimes called Willy) fell while working in the attic. He broke his leg and was unable to drag himself to any kind of aid. No one came around for days to check on the building so he was stranded up there where he eventually died from his injuries. Henry’s ghost seems to keep well hidden from the eyes of the living, although he does have a way of making his presence known in many mischievous ways.

Henry enjoys moving props and stealing playbooks. Even the renovations of the opera house failed to jostle Henry from his eternal feistiness. Both patrons and staff alike hear phantom footsteps in the otherwise empty attic on a regular basis. Jon Scott was Executive Director of the non-profit society that runs the opera house. He has heard Henry puttering around on many occasions when he was certain that there was no one else in the building other than himself.

Henry does not roam the entire building, however. He keeps his haunts confined to the second floor stage, hall, and attic. Perhaps the hustle and bustle of the ground floor, where the entrance and ticket booths are located, can become a bit too much for the shy ghost. He does keep rather quiet during performances suggesting that he might be a bit of a connoisseur of the performing arts. His spirit is not malevolent by any means, just in want to be noticed: maybe even in want to land a part in one of the plays. Whatever the case may be, it is probably safe to say that the term, “break a leg” is not used very often at the Enosburg Opera House.

By Thomas D’Agostino

Stone’s Public House at 179 Main Street in Ashland, Massachusetts has held the spirits of a few guests who never checked out. Even the Colonel himself who built the structure still resides in the old inn just west of Boston.

In 1834, Colonel John Stone, a farmer having served in the militia, saw a business opportunity in the newly laid Boston and Albany Railway. He built an inn for travelers to take in some relief from the long train ride and seek comfort in a warm bed. It was originally called the Railroad House. The inn opened on September 30, 1834 but there was only one problem. Colonel Stone had erected the building too close to the tracks and when trains rolled by it would shake most vehemently. John Stone ran the inn for only two years before leasing the business to Napoleon Stone. He continued to reside on the property. Some years later, Napoleon bought the business outright. John Stone died in 1858 and W.A. Scott purchased the hotel in 1868.

It was later called the Ashland Hotel until 1976 when Leonard Fournier bought it and changed the name to John Stone’s Inn. Marti Northover owned the inn until 2003. Matt Murphy then purchased the establishment and renamed it Stone’s Public House.

During Stone’s tenure it is alleged that he killed a traveling salesman with the handle of his gun over a game of cards after accusations of cheating turned violent. He then buried the man’s body in the cellar. He and his friends were sworn to silence and as no one knew the salesman had ever stopped there, the crime went unpunished.

It is reported that the spirit of John Stone and the ghost of the salesman still roam the inn. Two male apparitions have been seen in the basement. One account is of a manager who went into the cellar to get ice from the machine. As she reached in, something held her arm in the ice for a few moments before surrendering its cold grip on her. Both Fournier and a bartender gave accounts of being tapped on the shoulder while in the basement.

My wife, Arlene and I have visited the inn numerous times including one for a special investigation. Although the spirits were quiet that day, a bartender and another employee were eager to share their paranormal experiences. They also showed us a photograph of what appears to be a ghost mingled in with some patrons of the tavern. The waitress spoke of the spirit of a little girl who resides upstairs. She can often be heard laughing or crying. On many occasions they have heard the footsteps of what sounded like a child skipping down the upstairs hallway. It is said that a young girl was terribly cut when she looked out the window to see the train go by and the vibration of the train shattered the glass in her face.

Others have heard and seen the ghost of the child. Some come to the inn just to witness the phenomena. A cook once reported that he saw a head with no body in the kitchen. There are also photographs of similar sightings taken in the kitchen of what appears to be John Stone himself. An original picture of John Stone hangs above the fireplace in the lounge.

A bartender, Lisa Whitin was in the walk-in freezer when something slammed the door behind her. Whoever or, whatever it was held the door closed despite her pounding and pushing on the door. Finally, it flew open and she rushed out. The room however was void of any living entity. She anxiously checked the safety latch and it was in perfect working order. On another occasion she went into the ladies room and heard a voice whisper her name. She called back to it but there was no reply. She then saw the shadow of feet move from under one of the stalls. When she called out again there was no reply. Thinking it was a prank being played on her by a fellow worker she pushed the door of the stall open only to find it empty. After that she refused to enter that bathroom for three months.

One day she had just closed the umbrellas and put the chairs on the tables of the patio to secure it for the night. As she was entering the building she heard a noise behind her. When she turned around all the umbrellas were open and the chairs were set up on the patio again. At that point she hastily locked up and left.

In the dining room she witnessed a very spectacular occurrence. She blew all the candles out and set the room up for the next day. As she turned out the light and went to close the door, she saw a glow from behind her. All the candles had been relit.

When the inn was changing ownership to Matt Murphy, she was in the waitress station with a few other employees wondering about the future of the public house when a box came off of the top shelf and slowly hovered across the room then dropped to the floor. “The whole time,” Lisa related, “I wondered if what I was seeing was really happening.

Customers have seen the little girl in the window as well as on the porch of the building. Matt Murphy had seen the little girl as well. He was upstairs when he saw her in a little room to the left of the stairs. The room according to Mr. Murphy was used as a meeting room during the early days of the boarding house.

To read more about the inn and many other haunted places look for Haunted Massachusetts by Thomas D’Agostino with photography by Arlene Nicholson.