Haunted Summerwind

If one goes looking for ghosts in Wisconsin the name Summerwind always pops up.

This mansion was located on the shore of West Bay Lake for 72 years. It burned down in 1988 after it was hit by lightning. Despite this fact, many still have questions about this place and its ghosts.

Summerwind 

This mystery began in 1916. Robert Lamont was working as Secretary of Commence in Herbert Hoover’s administration when he bought an old fishing resort along the Michigan border near what is today the town of Land O’ Lakes.

The property came with a hunting lodge and several smaller cabins. Lamont turned this property into a comfortable summer home. He had 4 new fireplaces built with two forty-foot chimneys. He had a grand terrace added and expanded the size of the home.

He had steam heat put in and had servant quarters built. He named his new retreat, Lilac Hill.

Lamont was the first of several owners that realized that the property was haunted. One day hearing noises in his kitchen he discovered what he thought at first was an intruder.

He shot at the person twice. To his amazement this figure then vanished as he watched it.

Lamont along with various of his guests also were overwhelmed with a feeling of a "flight response" when they spent time on the homes' second floor.

After fire

In the 1930s Lamont’s family sold Lilac Hill after his death. Many felt they did not want to deal with the properties ghosts any longer.

In 1941, a family named Keefer bought the property. They were soon to regret this purchase. They spent the next 30 years trying to get rid of it. They sold it five different times only to have the new owners return it to them within days of their purchase. One disaster after another happened to each new owner--it appears the ghosts were unhappy.

In 1972, Arnold and Ginger Hinshaw purchased the property now known as Summerwind. They moved in with their 6 children.

They immediately started to notice odd activity. In the evenings as they ate dinner the family often saw a lady wearing a white dress dancing in their living room. Also a window in the master bedroom would open on its own.

Ginger started to redecorate the home. She threw out an old lace curtain that hung between the home and the servant’s house several times only to find it hanging once more in its original spot.

Several of the Hinshaw’s new appliances, including a water heater and pump broke down only to start working again several weeks later. The couple became frustrated when local repairmen refused to step foot on the property.

One day as Arnold went to enter his car it caught on fire mysteriously.

One of the most disturbing incidents happened when the family pulled out a large drawer in a linen closet upstairs to find a dark open space. They discovered a mummified corpse with shriveled limbs and dark hair hanging from its skull.

The couple decided to just leave it--not wanting to stir up more activity.

The activity in the home eventually took a toll on both Arnold and Ginger. Arnold felt driven to play the family organ each evening--his music became more frenzied as time went on.

He eventually stopped working on the house and had to seek professional help.

Ginger found that she became overwhelmed with feelings of despair. Soon after the family moved out, Arnold and Ginger divorced.

The Milwaukee Journal, 1985

In an odd twist to this story--Ginger’s father, Raymond Bober, purchased the property. He intended to turn the large home into a bed and breakfast.

Ginger’s parents and brother Karl also experienced the strange activity. The lace curtain continued to appear and the master bedroom window continued to open.

Karl often heard his named called out when he was alone in the home. The family also heard phantoms gunshots in the kitchen.

Ginger remarried and returned to help her family restore the home. She decided to show her parents the corpse but it had mysteriously disappeared.

The Bobers also discovered some kind of time and space distortion. They would measure a room one day only to discover that several days later it had shrunk or expanded in size.

Photographs they took of various rooms would often reflect furniture that was no longer there.

What is left of Summerwind.

Today, thrill seekers still enter the property in hopes of seeing ghosts. All that remains is part of the foundation, the chimneys and weeds.

Christmas Tree Ghost Ship

From 1898 to 1912, Herman Schuenemann was the Captain of the wooden schooner Rouse Simmons. 

Captain Schuenemann was considered as much a part of Chicago’s Christmas as Santa Claus, because his ship was better known as the “Christmas Tree Ship.”

Every November he would set sail on Lake Michigan from Thompson with a full cargo of spruces, pines, and balsams piled high.

As Schuenemann reached his destination-- he would steer the Rouse Simmons down the Chicago River and up to the Clark Street Bridge, were thousands of waving Chicagoans would wait in anticipation.

Once the ship had docked, people swarmed onboard to choose a Christmas tree. They cost 50 cents to a dollar.

“Chicago’s Yuletide season began when the Christmas Tree Ship arrived with evergreens lashed to her masts and rigging… Her skipper would welcome throngs of Chicagoans aboard as soon as the ship’s moorings were secure. Whole families would hurry to the dock to get the pick of the crop. Many wandered on deck to watch the Captain’s daughter, Elsie, weave pine branches into wreaths, which were also for sale.”

         --Reminiscences of Phil Sanders when he was a boy.

Herman Schuenemann, and his brother August before him-- from 1876-to 1898-- always made sure no one left without a tree. Both brothers gave away hundreds of trees to needy families, churches, and orphanages.

August was carrying a load of trees to Chicago when his ship went down in 1898, in one of Lake Michigan’s fierce November gales. His brother, Herman, made another trip just two weeks later determined Chicago would have its Christmas trees that year.

Unfortunately, fourteen years later Herman would suffer the same fate.

Bad Omens

Lake sailors, as well as ocean sailors, are a superstitious lot--they have to be. Generations of “old salts” pass down what a sailor needs to be aware of--this includes everything that happens on and around their ships.

Captain Herman Schuenemann
in the middle with two crew members.

Captain Schuenemann was a competent, and cautious sailor but for some reason he ignored a significant number of ominous warnings in November of 1912.

He was planning to sail from Thompson, Michigan, on a Friday with a large cargo of trees despite severe storm warnings. His crew was nervous, for there was an apparent storm brewing, and the captain wanted to start their journey on a Friday.

Sailors considered it extremely unlucky to begin a voyage on a Friday. In the 1800s, the British Navy was so annoyed by this superstition they purposefully launched a new ship called HMS Friday on a Friday.

Needless to say this ship and its crew was never seen again.

Captain Charles Nelson, Herman’s partner, who had been a lake captain for 50 years tried to persuade Herman to delay, but he could not convince him. Herman didn’t want to take the risk of being iced into the harbor, and having his ship dashed against the docks by gale-force winds.

Schuenemann then ignored several more bad omens. Just before the schooner left the harbor, several sailors watched in horror as droves of rats fled the ship. This is believed to be a sign a vessel is in imminent danger.

Three crew members afraid left the Rouse Simmons, forfeiting their pay. This left just 13 crewmembers on the ship. Sailing with thirteen crewmembers was considered to be as dangerous as starting a voyage on a Friday.

Ships at the time nailed a horseshoe to the side of their vessels for good luck. Just as on land, it is considered bad luck if these horseshoes are hung upside down--all the luck will run out.

As the Rouse Simmons set sail, the horseshoe that was hung on its side was loosened by strong winds. It was now hanging upside down on a single nail.

The Storm

Captain Schuenemann left the harbor on November 22^nd and sailed right into the now infamous Big Storm of 1912.

The temperature immediately dropped from 40 degrees to below freezing.  Rain turned to snow and ice, which coated the ships’ rigging, sails and spars--and the Christmas trees that were on deck.

The next day witnesses in Kewaunee, Wisconsin, saw the Rouse Simmons pass by flying her distress signals. They wondered why the ship with its tattered sails did not just stop but instead sailed into a blinding snowstorm.

“The Two Rivers Life Saving Crew was informed of the ships’ distress signals and set out in search of the schooner but it was never found.”

                   --From an article in the Chronicle of Two Rivers

Wreck of Rouse Simmons

This mystery was not solved until 1971 when the wreck of the Rouse Simmons was found at the bottom of Lake Michigan.

Its wheel was missing so the experts concluded that the enormous ship's cargo of Christmas trees had basically turned into ice blocks on deck, which then slid into the wheel leaving the captain unable to control the ships’ course.

Phantom Bells and a Ghost Ship

One popular sailor superstition is that when a ship’s bells are heard ringing of their own accord, as in a storm, this foretells death.

In the days after the Rouse Simmons was lost, several people near Two Rivers, Wisconsin reported hearing phantom bells and phantom cries in the wind.

A ghost ship has also been seen over the years. It is often spotted on Christmas Eve, and Christmas Day, gliding in the waters near Two Rivers. People have watched as it just vanishes into a mist.

Excerpts from Haunted Christmas by Mary Beth Crain

The Ridgeway Ghost

In Wisconsin folklore * there is a famous tale called the Ridgeway Ghost. This ghost story was often told during this state's pioneer days.

The following is the story of how the belief in this “ghost” was used to dissuade bad behavior.

Sightings of this ghost occurred along an old military road, a 25-mile stretch--known as the Ridge Road-- that ox-driven wagons traveled in the Lead Region of this state.

The early mining communities of Blue Mounds and Dodgeville in Iowa County bookended this 25-mile stretch. The settlement of Ridgeway that this ghost was named for was halfway between these two mining camps.

The ghost used the settlement as its headquarters.

It was said …

This ghost was unusual in that it can change its’ shape.

This phantom was a man with a whip that chased the living.

Or sometimes this ghost was a headless horseman.

Or even creepier--this entity was a fierce beast-like creature or ball of fire.

People warned …

This haunting was the result of a bar fight. Two brothers-- the ages of 14 and 15--had the misfortune to be involved in a saloon brawl in the 1840s. 

A rowdy threw the 14-year old into a fireplace where he burned to death. The other brother managed to escape but froze to death on his way home.

A Respected witness …

Doctor Cutler of Dodgeville was the first person to see this ghost in the 1850s.

He stated the face of this ghost appeared on a pole on his wagon as he was driving home one night--just as he passed the home of the deceased brothers.

Most frightening of all …

This entity would attack travelers and then would immediately disappear.

Blue Mounds

Several witnesses, including a well-liked man named John Lewis, who saw this ghost was then plagued by ailments and died.

The locals started to refuse to go out at night alone.

The reason this story was circulated . . .

Along this 25-mile stretch, between Dodgeville and Pokerville, were at least a dozen saloons each with a worse reputation than the last.

Gamblers, miners, and “toughs.” frequented these establishments.

Tavern fights often broke out between drunks, and robberies and murders were a common occurrence.

Many of the miners and locals were Welsh and Cornish folk--both these cultures were steeped in old superstitions.

As the story goes the Ridgeway Ghost was manufactured to help rid the region of the disreputable element, which hung out in these saloons.

Practical jokers then helped to spread the growing belief in this ghost. It only took a few “pranks,” which then threw the entire region into a panic.

In 1910 when the town of Ridgeway burnt down, it is said that this entity moved to the woods near Mineral Point.

* Source Folklore Pamphlets, 1921-45, by Charles E. Brown, Published by Wisconsin Historical Society