Haunted Kennebunk Inn

Tavern in 1885.

This inn nestled between the Kennebunk and Mousam Rivers, in the town of Kennebunk, Maine, was built as a private home in 1799.

In 1928, this residence was converted to a tavern. During this time a man by the name of Silas Perkins was hired to be the night watchman and auditor.

The son of a sea captain, Silas was also a published poet.

Silas died, of a heart attack, in the 1940s, at the inn. He was eighty years old. Since his death, many believe that his ghost lingers.

Light mist photographed at the inn.
Click to enlarge.

In more recent years, this old tavern was converted into an inn.

Former owners of this inn, the LeBlanc’s encountered Silas’ ghost on more than one occasion.

This ghost likes to play pranks on the inn’s employees—especially on those he does not like.

At first, Angela LeBlanc was skeptical the inn was haunted. She quickly changed her mind.

Inn's bar.

One afternoon as she sat the inn’s bar, several mugs levitated off a shelf, where the bartender, named Dudley stood. These mugs hit him in the back of the head.

On other occasions wine glasses fell or flew across the bar.

Room 17 at the inn is very active. As well as the hallway outside this room.

Recently, a housekeeper was cleaning this room when she unplugged the television, to clean behind it. To her horror, this TV moments later turned on by itself.

Even though Silas is mischievous, most of the owners of the inn agree that his spirit overall is a protective presence.

He takes his role as night watchman seriously—guest often state, that he watches over them as they sleep. I am not sure if I would find this comforting or not. 

One line from a poem he wrote, entitled The Common Man, sums up his role as protector.

“I want to laugh with the common man.

Whenever he chance to be,

I want to aid him when I can

Whenever there’s need of me.”

Owl’s Head Lighthouse, Part ll

This old lighthouse stands on a rocky cliff overlooking Rockland Harbor in Maine.

Old postcard of Owl's Head Lighthouse

One view from Owl's Head

Visitors today follow a very rough road to reach the lighthouses’ parking lot. They then have to walk through pine trees, for a quarter of a mile. Along this hike, the visitor has an incredible view of the beautiful, peaceful scenery.

This calm atmosphere for some does not last. For once they reach this old lighthouse two ghosts are waiting to greet them.

These two spirits are said to be a former keeper’s wife, called the “Little Lady,” and the other is believed to be an old lighthouse keeper.

The ghostly wife is seen standing outside the lighthouse and in the kitchen where she is heard rattling silverware and slamming doors. In the kitchen, she is seen out of the corner of the eye or just as a shadowy figure.

The ramp leading up to
the lighthouse.

The former keeper often follows a pattern. When it rains or snows, his footprints are spotted in the mud or snow. They always lead up the ramp to the tower, where lightkeepers would then see the door open, despite it being locked.

These witnesses then watched this ghost walk up the steps in the tower. Later they would find the lens and brass at the top had been freshly polished.

This makes sense since a keeper’s whole life was spent making sure the light was maintained, for if this was not done, it could cause a disaster for passing ships.

From 1980 until 1989, Coast Guard keepers and their families lived at Owl’s Head. These families shared more specific details about the hauntings.

Andy Germann and his wife Denise lived at Owl’s Head in the early 1980s. This couple had a strange encounter late one night. Denise had retired for the evening when she felt Andy lay down in bed beside her.

She asked her husband a question, but when he didn’t answer, she turned over, only to find no one in bed with her. There was an “indentation of a body” next to her that was moving as if a person was shifting position.

Andy, the next morning told her just before she saw this strange sight he had been standing outside their bedroom. He saw a cloud of smoke hovering over the floor that passed right through him. It then headed into their bedroom.

Andy and Denise warned the next Coast Guard keeper, Gerald Graham and his wife, Debbie about this haunting.

Fog over Owl's Head

One night Graham’s two-year-old daughter, Claire announced, “Fog’s rolling in, time to put the foghorn on.” Andy found this strange because his young daughter didn’t use adult vocabulary.

Over the next two years, Claire’s parents discovered she was conversing with a man she stated had a beard and wore a seaman’s cap. Her parents never saw this man.

Malcolm Rouse was the last Coast Guard keeper before the light was automated in 1989. His wife insisted that she saw a person dressed in white standing at one of the windows.

Owl's Head with
light on.

The Rouse’s son mentioned when he woke up, he sometimes saw a strange woman sitting in a chair in his bedroom.

Owl’s Head Light State Park is open to visitors year-round. The tower and residence have been renovated, and the American Lighthouse Foundation uses it as an education center. There is also a gift shop and museum on site.

Since the light is still in use visitors are encouraged, while in the tower, not to touch the lens.

In Owl’s Head Lighthouse, Part l I share two of my favorite stories about this lighthouse.

Owl’s Head Lighthouse, Part l

Owl's Head Lighthouse

Owl’s Head is considered one of Maine’s most beautiful Lighthouses. It is at the south entrance to Rockland Harbor and is surrounded by water.

This lighthouse was built in 1824 and sits on seventeen and a half pine-covered acres. The tower is only 15 feet high, but its light can be seen for 18 miles because it sits atop a high cliff.

The original tower was replaced in 1895.

It is still in use today with an automated light. To reach the top of the tower, visitors must climb a 50 step steep staircase, but this climb is worth it for the 360-degree view from this vantage point is spectacular.

Opposite view of Owl's Head.

Owl’s Head like many lighthouses has several fascinating stories connected to it. The following are two of my favorites.

One involves a man and woman found encased in a block of ice.

In the winter of 1850, a small schooner was anchored in the harbor, was caught in the worst snowstorm of the season. The captain had gone ashore leaving his mate, Richard Ingraham, a crewmember, Roger Elliot, and Lydia Dryer, Ingraham’s’ fiancée aboard the ship.

Photo of Owl's Head taken in 1932.

As this storm intensified, the schooner was torn from its mooring and was dashed against the rocks at Owl’s Head. As the boat broke apart, the 3 occupants huddled under blankets to keep warm.

Elliot managed to swim through the frigid water and climb ashore. A keeper, out riding a sleigh found him half-dead and carried him into the lighthouse, where he was able to briefly revive him.

Elliot managed to choke out that two others needed help and then lost consciousness. A search party was formed.

Ingraham and Dryer were found frozen in a block of ice. Their rescuers at first thought they were dead but decided to not give up. They chipped the ice away and poured cold water over the couple.

They then massaged their limbs as they slowly poured warmer and warmer water over them. After one hour, the couple began to show signs of life. After two hours, Ingraham opened his eyes, and in a confused daze started to ask questions.

Months later, the couple regained their health. They married and had four children. As for Elliot, who had alerted the keeper to their whereabouts, he sadly didn’t recover.

Another favorite story of mine involves a dog, named Spot, and a fog bell.

From 1935 to 1945, Gus Hamor was the keeper at Owl’s Head, but it is his springer spaniel that is remembered fondly.

Gus’ two daughters, Pauline and Millie trained Spot to pull the rope that rang the fog bell. Whenever a boat would pass Spot would ring the bell, and then the vessel would respond by blowing their horn.

Spot’s favorite visitor to the lighthouse was, Stuart Ames, the skipper of the mail boat. Ames always gave Spot a special treat when he delivered the mail.

Spot anticipating these visits learned to recognize the sound of Ames’ boat engine and then he would pull the bell.

During one awful winter blizzard the snowdrifts were so high on the cliff they muffled the sounds of the fog bell.

Ames on his boat in the harbor was trying to deliver the mail to the lighthouse, but he couldn’t hear the fog alert, because of this he wasn’t able to determine the position of his vessel. He was afraid his boat would be smashed against the rocky cliff.

Spot heard his engine through this storm and whined and scratched at the door to be let out. When the door was opened, he dashed to the shore and barked loudly until the mail boat’s whistle replied.

Ames, through Spots’ persistence found his way and delivered the mail safely.

In Part ll of Owl’s Head Lighthouse, I share two hauntings connected to this lighthouse.

The Golden Eagle

In Stephen King’s book entitled Christine, a car, a vintage Plymouth Fury, named Christine, possesses its teenage owner, Ernie. Ernie does not know this car had been responsible for the deaths of the previous owners’ wife and daughter.

This car eventually also is responsible for Ernie’s death. King’s book and the film based upon it are still popular.

King is a master at writing horror stories—this genre is compelling entertainment—but what is interesting is there is a car that people point to as being a real-life Christine.

The Golden Eagle is a 1964 Dodge Limited Edition. Its history reflects eerie similarities to King’s fictional car. Some consider this car haunted. Others believe it is “the evilest car in America.”

This vehicle was initially used as a police car in Old Orchard Beach, Maine. The three officers that drove the car all died in bizarre murder-suicides. Each of these officers killed their families and then themselves.

This Dodge after this was sold quickly for it now had a dark reputation. Wendy Allen’s parents bought the car. The Allen family used it regularly for many years without incident. Except for one thing-- if they drove it on the highway random doors would fling open without cause.

The Golden Eagle

Wendy states her family was never harmed by the car, but in the 1980s and 90s, several local churches decided the vehicle was demonic. Allen thinks this is because the car gained a bad reputation for killing at least 14 people.

Wendy feels people’s fears about the car are based in superstitions.

The most bizarre stories about these deaths involve children. One child in the 1960s and another in the 1980s were both hit by cars and flung across the street. Their bodies were both found under the Golden Eagle. Both died before paramedics arrived.

In 2008, another child was dared to just touch the Dodge, he then died along with the rest of his family, including their dog, two weeks later in a house fire.

After being vandalized.

In the 1980s, members of local churches hearing about this strange car began to vandalize it. After this damage was done, two leaders from these vandal groups died in two separate horrific car crashes where they both were decapitated by 18-wheelers.

Yet another four members died after being hit by lightning. Today the old Dodge is in pieces. Members of another church stole the car, chopped it up and placed these parts in various junkyards.

Wendy Allen upset, and not believing the rumors the car is demonic requested people help her locate and retrieve the vehicle. The Dodge’s parts today are hidden so people can’t find them.

So did these deaths actually happen? Wendy Allen says they did, but that the connections to her family car are all just coincidence.

Killed for Revenge

This story is an old legend that is told in Maine.

Major Thomas Means fought bravely during the Revolutionary War. He was at Valley Forge with General Washington and served under “Mad” Anthony Wayne at the battle of Stony Point.

He returned home to North Yarmouth, Maine in 1779 having reached the rank of Major. Years before, in 1756, he had lost his father and other family members when the Micmac Indians attacked the settlement.

The Means farm was a half-mile from the settlement’s fort. When news of a pending Indian attack was spread most of the community took refuge at this blockade. The Means family decided to wait until the next morning --they were attacked before they could leave their farm.

Thomas’ father Thomas Sr. was killed instantly his mother was wounded. Months later she gave birth to a baby who was named after his dead father. Thomas Jr. at the age of 18 joined the army as a private. As mentioned, he fought bravely alongside the other Colonial forces.

In 1807, now a respected gentleman, his peers still called him Major, Thomas bought a home once owned by the town’s minister. Situated on Main Street he opened it as a tavern.

Yarmouth Harbor

One evening Means and his patrons watched as a tall older Indian entered his establishment. This man ordered rum. As Thomas served him this man bragged about being a member of a war party that years before had massacred a family that lived near the fort.

As Thomas served him several glasses of liquor the Indian talked more. It dawned on Thomas and his patrons that this was the man who killed his father. Once the Indian was drunk Thomas escorted him to a small guest room above the tavern known as the “monitor room.”

None of the townsfolk saw this Indian again. Shortly afterwards, Thomas began to be awakened by “flashing lights and uncanny sounds” coming from the monitor room.

He then began to see the figure of the Indian moving back and forth across this small room. This activity was relentless especially during storms.

These sightings continued for years and almost drove the Major crazy. On his deathbed in 1828, Thomas confessed to his son that he had killed the Indian with a hatchet. Seeking revenge he had scalped the man as well.

Means confession did not settle down this activity. The small monitor room continued to be haunted for 50 years after his death.

It wasn’t until the late 1970s after the new owners of the tavern renovated the upstairs that this troubled ghost finally settled down.

Dash: American Ghost Ship

In the early 19^th century Britain and France were fighting the Napoleonic Wars. Despite President Thomas Jefferson and then-President James Madison’s efforts to keep neutral-- America found itself right in the middle of this conflict.

British impressment of Americans into service.

British and French trade restrictions disrupted American business, which had a devastating impact on our shipping industry and country.

These two country's privateers and military vessels blocked our ports and harassed American ships. The British took this a step further when they began to use impressment to steal American men and goods into their service.

President Madison’s response was to impose the economic Embargo Act of 1807. It mainly kept American ships bottled up in harbors along the East Coast.

This Embargo backfired for since it restricted our ships from trading for needed goods—it hurt the American people even more.

Also, ironically, this embargo didn’t stop the British harassment, which further damaged the American economy. The end result was President Madison declared war against Great Britain in 1812.

Privateering during the War of 1812.

During the War of 1812, the U.S. used government-licensed private armed vessels, known as privateers. These ships were not part of the American navy. Their task was to detain, seize, and take enemy vessels, their crews, and their goods. They then would bring these men into U.S. ports for prosecution.

So privateers were in part sanctioned pirate ships.

Dash

One such ship was a topsail schooner called Dash. It was built in 1813 in Freeport, Maine.

Dash was a half model or what is called a Hawk nest. This meant she had 16 guns and another ten fake “Quaker” wooden ones to fool the enemy.

She was built for speed and eventually was re-rigged with a unique sail to increase her already impressive speed.

The Dash was able to break Portland’s blockade three times in 1813, with a cargo of lumber for trade. She returned from the West Indies, having traded for coffee and sugar cane.

In September of 1814, she was commissioned as a privateer. She was re-armed with more guns and more men—mostly from Freeport. This vessel was able to capture fourteen enemy ships—all without one single injury to her crew.

In January of 1815, she left port with another privateer, the Chamberlain. She pulled ahead but ran into a heavy gale. The Chamberlain turned back but the Dash continued.

She was never heard from again. It is not known what happened to her, but some speculate that her captain underestimated her speed and ran her aground on the treacherous shoals of the Georges Banks.

Within months of the Dash’s disappearance, fishermen in Casco Bay swore they saw this ship bearing down on them through a mist. As this ship turned and headed for Freeport, they clearly saw the words “Dash—Freeport” written on her bow.

Over the years, these sightings continued, at one point they even increased. Fishermen and other boaters reported that this schooner seemed to appear out of nowhere—always in a fog.

Foggy Casco Bay

Witnesses noted that despite the fact there wasn’t any breeze this did not prevent this sailing ship from moving quickly.

As more sightings of this ship were noted, a legend began to be circulated about Dash. It states that when a descendant of one of Dash’s sixty crewmembers dies this ship returns to bear these loved ones on their final journey.

One impressive witness sighting occurred in the 1940s, during WWll. A U.S. naval ship and Coast Guard boats that were protecting Casco Bay saw an unusual sight one foggy afternoon.

A blip was noticed on their radar screens. These vessels headed for the spot. As the sirens went off and all men reported to their stations, they were surprised to see a 19^th century sailing schooner.

It was cruising along the channel headed for Freeport. By the time they reached this old ship, it had disappeared.

This sighting has been written about several times and has gone down as one of the most bizarre occurrences on the East Coast during the war.