The Ghost of Galloway

Harding University, a Christian college located in Searcy, Arkansas was originally founded as a Methodist Episcopal women’s college called Galloway. This story started when Galloway Women’s College was at its peak. During this time it was considered one of the finest educational institutions in the south. Young ladies who attended the college in the late 1800s and early 1900s were taught a curriculum that included homemaking and secretarial training. The school was also known for its music and art curriculum.

Sometime before 1934 a sweet young student by the name of Gertrude, was found dead at the bottom of an elevator shaft sending shock waves through the school. Galloway was small so most of the students and staff knew her. How Gertrude ended up in the shaft is still a mystery. Reports at the time stated that late one November evening while most of the school’s residents slept Gertrude returned from town with her date after attending a small party. Her date bid her farewell at her dorm and Gertrude entered the hall and climbed the stairs to her room.

At this juncture the story gets fuzzy but it was reported that a blood-curdling scream awakened many girls in the hall at which point chaos took command of the dorm. One young witness saw a huge, dark form hurdle by where she was standing and disappear down the stairs. A hysterical housemother finally calmed everyone down enough to call the police who found Gertrude at the bottom of the elevator shaft dead.

Her death came as a major blow to the normally peaceful college. Legend states that Gertrude’s fellow students insisted she be buried in the pretty, frilly white gown she wore her last night alive. The police never found the supposed killer so her death was deemed an accident. This ruling unfortunately did not save the college’s reputation. Many parents withdrew their daughters and the school began to falter financially.

Several years after Gertrude’s death a freshman woke up at midnight and walked down the hall to get a drink of water. There was a full moon so she had no trouble seeing her way, as she passed the partially boarded elevator shaft she peered through a crack. She stifled a scream and barely managed to return to her room. Feeling faint she woke up her roommate. She told her, “I could see her in the moonlight, sitting there in a white evening gown, combing her platinum-blonde hair.” She then dropped to the floor in a faint.

Her roommate mustered her nerve and went down the hall to take a look. Another student awakened by her movements found her plastered against the wall across from the elevator shaft. She gasped and finally managed to say, “She-she-walked right through the wall to the first floor. She was too terrified to say anything else. The Dean of Women was called and in an effort to reassure the scared girls she peered down into the depth of the shaft. “Why there’s nothing down there, except an old comb someone dropped.”

Soon after this the Galloway Women’s College closed its doors for the last time. Years later the original building was torn down. Many of its old bricks were used in the construction of what is now Harding Universities’ Music building, which is located 300 yards from the original site. Some of these original bricks were also used to make a path that leads from the old site to the new building.

Today it is along this path that several students have been stopped dead in their tracks by the sight of a young woman, dressed in a white lace gown, sweeping by them. This apparition is seen following the path back and forth from the old site to the music building. Several students making a recording in the music building late one night picked up footsteps when no one else was in the building. Gertrude or Gertie Sue as the students and staff fondly call her is often seen at Harding today.

The Ghost of Theodosia Burr Alston

Theodosia Burr or Theo as she was called was Aaron Burr’s only daughter. 

Burr, an influential political figure in the early 1800s, was a doting parent. He made sure Theo was educated beyond what most young ladies of the time were offered. She was allowed to study music, languages, philosophy, and politics. 

Theo was also charming and very beautiful. 

When her mother passed away from cancer, Theo was more than prepared to take over as her father’s hostess, at Richmond Hall, the family home in Albany.

Prominent figures of the time, as well as hopeful young suitors, attended the dinners that Theo hosted. Theo had her pick of eligible bachelors, but to everyone’s surprise, Theo married Joseph Alston. 

Joseph was a southern gentleman who had inherited his families’ wealth. 

Alston came from a very different world from the high society that Theo was used to. Burr, unlike most, was delighted with his daughter’s choice. He admired Alston’s political ambitions.

Theo and Alston on their way south, to the Carolina Lowcountry in February of 1801, stopped to see Aaron Burr inaugurated, as Thomas Jefferson’s vice president. 

Joseph Alston had attended Princeton and passed the bar at the age of twenty, but he didn’t practice law. 

Part of his inheritance was a large rice plantation called “The Oaks” in South Carolina. This is where he brought Theo after they were married. 

Theo helped manage The Oaks and several other properties Alston owned, but the hot, humid southern climate did not agree with her. Though she loved her husband, she missed her father and the beauty of the Hudson River Valley.

The distress she felt being separated from her father increased as Burr became embroiled in two political scandals. 

The first involved a bitter political rivalry he had with Alexander Hamilton, which resulted in a duel in which Burr killed him in 1804. Burr was arrested for murder but later was acquitted. 

Theo rushed to be at her father’s side during this time. 

The second scandal revolved around some shady land schemes Burr was involved in. Burr left for Europe in a self-imposed exile.

Theo’s health was in a frail condition when she gave birth to a son in 1802. It was a rough delivery, and Theo never managed to completely recover. 

Joseph and Theo named their son Aaron Burr Alston, they were very devoted parents, making sure their son had the best of everything. 

Theo often wrote letters to her father about her son's progress, this and news about her husbands’ political successes kept Burr interested. He usually replied to her messages with political advice for his son-in-law.

It was during this period that Theo’s life brightened, but then another tragedy struck. 

Theo and her husband each summer would move to their summer home “The Castle” on Dubordieu Beach, to escape the rice plantations’ oppressive heat and swamps. 

Early in the summer of 1812 two weeks after they arrived young Aaron, now ten years old, and already ill with tropical fever (malaria) died. Theo was inconsolable.

Burr heard of his grandson’s death as he returned to New York. He encouraged Theo to visit him over the holidays. Theo desperately wanted to but her husband, now governor of South Carolina, felt the trip would be too dangerous. 

He was concerned about her health, and the fact that American was again at war with Britain (War of 1812). 

There were also rumors that pirates were active off the Carolina Outer Banks. Despite these dangers, Theo won out, and Joseph reluctantly wrote her a letter to the British Navy requesting safe passage.

Theo said her last goodbye to her husband, while they waited in a warm warehouse in Georgetown, near the wharf where she was to embark. 

She boarded the schooner “Patriot” in December of 1812 anticipating the six-day trip north. Joseph having important business regretted that he could not make the voyage with her. 

The Patriot never made it to New York. Theo's disappearance remains a mystery.

The Patriot did encounter a British vessel, her second day out, and Joseph’s letter worked for the British let the ship pass. 

That night a strong winter gale swept across Cape Hatteras known as the “Graveyard of the Atlantic.” Some speculate the Patriot was lost in this storm. 

There is also evidence that the Patriot might have been a victim of pirates or “wreckers." Wreckers are people who plunder a ship after it has foundered near to or close to shore.

In 1833, an Alabama newspaper reported a confessed pirate admitted that he had participated in the plunder, and murder of all on board the Patriot at Nags Head. 

Fifteen years later, another former pirate, “Old Frank” Burdick confessed a similar story on his deathbed. 

His description included how he had held a plank for a pretty woman in a white dress. Before she plunged to her death, she begged someone send word to her husband and father. 

Burdick stated they then plundered the ship and abandoned her under full sail. He also said he saw a portrait of a woman in white in the main cabin.

Further evidence came to light in Nags Head to support the above stories.

An ill patient, too poor to pay her doctor, offered instead a portrait her husband’s family had given her as a gift. 

When the doctor questioned her possession of the portrait, she admitted to him that her in-laws were wreckers and they had plundered a ship they found abandoned after a gale. It sails were fully set, with no one aboard.

She stated that her relatives had found a woman’s belongings strewn about the main cabin, and amidst this, they had found the portrait. 

It is not known if Theo left Georgetown with a portrait. It did not surface until after her husband Joseph Alston had died. But many feel this is a possibility. For the picture could have been intended as a gift for her father. 

Years after the doctor was given the portrait, a descendant of the Burr’s came forward and immediately identified it as a picture of Theo.

Whatever her fate, Theo’s uneasy spirit appears to still roam some of the locations where she was most happy and sad in life.  

Her ghost has been spotted in South Carolina’s Lowcountry. 

She is observed pacing near the warehouse in Georgetown Harbor, where she said goodbye to her husband before she boarded the Patriot. 

Others have seen her strolling along the strand near Alston’s summer home-- The Castle at Dubordieu Beach--her head bent in sorrow. 

Some have described seeing her on foggy nights floating above the waves at Huntington Beach—once called Theaville in her honor.

Her spirit is also seen walking the paths, and descending the rice island steps near her husband’s plantation, The Oaks. 

Today this plantation, combined with three other rice plantations, make up what is called Brookgreen Garden. This spot is a popular tourist attraction.

The Pony Express and Haunted Hollenberg Station

The Pony Express was one of the most daring enterprises undertaken in the frontier west. It was in existence for only a short 18 months, but the story of the men who road in this fast relay race, across eight states reflects the true American spirit. 

In 1860, the railroad and telegraph didn’t extend further west than St. Joseph, Missouri. Mail leaving St. Joseph traveled laboriously by stagecoach and wagon—it would take upwards of three weeks to a month for a letter to reach California.

The Pony Express provided a unique solution to this problem. In April of 1860, an advertisement appeared in California requesting:

“Young, skinny, wiry, fellows not over the age of 18, Must be expert riders, will to risk death daily. Orphans preferred.”

One hundred and eighty-three men were hired, none weighing over 125 pounds. They ranged in age from 11 years to 45 years old—most were in their early twenties. They were paid 25 dollars a week to ride 75 to 100 miles, at which point another rider would take over. 

Half headed west from Missouri the other half headed east from California. The company-- Central Overland California and Pikes Peak Express-- that the riders worked for procured 400 horses. 

These horses were mostly mustangs, pintos, thoroughbreds, and Morgans. They were placed at over 100 stations along the Pony Express route. Lightweight saddles were used, but these horses carried 165 pounds, and traveled at an average speed of 10 miles per hour.

Two Riders: Bill Richardson and Johnny Frye

Each rider would receive a fresh horse every 10-15 miles. As the riders approached these stations, they would yell loudly to signal the station—so they could switch horses quickly. 

Every detail was carefully thought out--ferryboats were placed at the rivers so the riders could cross quickly. Once the riders reached Sacramento, the mail was placed on a steamer for the short trip downriver to San Francisco.

Each rider had a special saddlebag called a mochila. The mochila was thrown over the saddle, and the rider would sit on it to hold it in place. Each corner of the mochila had a padlocked cantina, or pocket, where the letters and packages were placed. It could carry 20 pounds. Also, these horses carried the weight of a water sack and the rider's revolver.

The Pony Express was, indeed “express.” The mail now could reach California within ten days. This feat was not done without danger. 

As these riders relayed 2,000 miles across Missouri, Kansas, Nebraska, Wyoming, Colorado, Utah, Nevada, and California, they faced the threat of Indian attack, rough terrain and bad weather. 

By far, the most dangerous leg of the journey was through the Sierra Nevada Mountains. The riders had to know the trails well, especially in winter, when the snowdrifts would pile up. Many of the Pony Express riders didn’t survive these hazards.

The Pony Express initially charged $5.00 per 1/2 ounce, but this rate later did decrease to $1.00 per 1/2 ounce. For the time, this was a lot of money. 

The most famous Pony Express rider was 15-year-old William “Buffalo Bill” Cody. 

The fastest Pony Express delivery took only 7 days and 17 hours when the riders carried President Abraham Lincoln’s Inaugural Address to California. In its short existence, these riders delivered around 35,000 pieces of mail over 65,000 miles and only lost one mochila of letters.

Several factors contributed to the demise of the Pony Express. 

First, the completion of the Pacific Telegraph Line allowed easterners to communicate with westerners within minutes. Next, the companies’ failure to secure an exclusive million dollar government mail contract forced them into bankruptcy. 

These two factors plus the outbreak of the Civil War all contributed to the end of the Pony Express in October of 1861.

After this most of the 100 plus Pony Express stations, fell into ruin. One station that did survive was the Hollenberg Station in Kansas. This is due to the efforts of the residents in Hanover, Kansas who raised the money to preserve it. 

In 1857, Gerat H. Hollenberg and his wife Sofia established a way station for travelers, on the Oregon and California Trails, from 1860 to 1861, they operated one of the larger Pony Express stations.

The Hollenberg Station now has a museum, and visitor center, and is a state park. Staff and visitors alike have reported seeing the ghosts of several Pony Express Riders during the summer months. 

One phenomenon that is experienced both day and night are witness reports of hearing thundering hooves approach the station, and then shouts are heard. Several witnesses have seen these riders, and report they wear old- fashioned clothes and chaps.

Within the station, cold spots are commonly reported. Strange sounds are heard, and one specific report is of an apparition of a young rider who still has arrows protruding from his back. He is seen in one of the station bedrooms lying on the floor bleeding and in apparent agony. 

Another spirit that haunts the station is the owner, Gerat Hollenberg. It is stated he likes to rearrange items. He also has been known to hide various items.

Ghost Ship: S.S. Kamloops

Early in December of 1927, the steamship S.S. Kamloops was seen for the last time intact with her crew alive and well. 

She was traveling on the last leg of her journey from Montreal to Port Arthur, now known as Thunder Bay. She entered Lake Superior through the Sault St. Marie canal—she passed through the Soo Locks on December 4th destined for Fort William. Tragically, this was to be the last journey for the Kamloops.

The Kamloops was following the steamer Quedoc on December 5^th when a massive storm hit Lake Superior. Both were making steady headway through this heavy north gale in fog and sub-freezing temperatures on the night of the 6^th when the captain of the Quedoc suddenly saw a black mass loom up before his ship, he turned to avoid it while sounding a danger signal to warn the Kamloops. 

Because of poor visibility, it was not known if the Kamloops heard the signal in time and was able to make the turn. The Quedoc made it to Fort William, but the Kamloops would never arrive.

As the storm grew fiercer that night, many ships were stranded on various parts of the lake. At first, hope was kept alive when several ships at different ports reported seeing the Kamloops, but by December 12th, all ships had been accounted for except the Kamloops. 

At this point, the search for her started in earnest. Efforts where made until December 26^th when fading hopes and the ice and winter weather made it impossible to continue the search.

This was not the first time in the Kamloops' history that she had shipped cargo so late in the season, on two other occasions in her short career she had been trapped by the ice in St. Mary’s river pushed by her owner to make one last run. 

In December of 1927, she was carrying a load of expensive paper making machinery that her owner—the Canada Steamship Line expected her to deliver before the lake iced in. But this time her luck ran out, her entire crew, including two women, were never again seen alive.

This tragedy was made worse when in the spring of 1928. A group of fishermen discovered the remains of several of the crew. They had managed to make it to shore on the island of Amygdaloid. It is believed that these surviving crewmembers died of exposure for this island offers minimal shelter, and the winds the night of December 6^th had reached 62 miles an hour, the temperature had dipped nine degrees below zero. 

Also in 1927, the crew would not have had a radio, and this was before searches were done by air, all these factors combined, doomed the crew from the start.

For fifty years, the disappearance of the S.S. Kamloops remained a mystery, so she was classified as a ghost ship; various witnesses saw her decks, port, and starboard sides covered in ice and frost even in the summer months along the lake during this period.

S.S. Kamloops at the bottom
of Lake Superior.

The Kamloops was unusual in that she was a small steamship only 250 feet in length. She also had four distinct tall king posts—each rigged with a 5-ton derrick used to load and unload the freight she carried. 

So in August of 1977, when divers found a sunken ship northwest of Isle Royale resting on its starboard side, two hundred and sixty feet down, there was no doubt it was the Kamloops.

Lake Superior is known for its rough weather—its waters are frigid year-round. The surface temperature rarely reaches above 55 degrees Fahrenheit; below 50 feet divers experience 34-37 degrees Fahrenheit. Because of the cold conditions, the wreck of the Kamloops has been preserved, even though it has been eighty-four years since she sank. 

The cargo that once was so important is still in almost perfect condition in her hold. Divers have seen, wire fencing, high top shoes, candy lifesavers, and crates of Honey Bee Molasses.

The Kamloops also holds well-preserved human remains. Because of the frigid temperatures, no fish are found at this depth. 

One story often told by divers is of a body seen in the engine room they call “Grandpa” or “Whitey.” Witnesses have said that he floats or follows quietly behind them as they explore the engine room. Some divers state that their movements have caused currents that make this happen, others say that Grandpa seems to have a will of his own. 

Regardless, his appearance has scared more than one diver in this compartment. His skin is described as very pale or white, and divers have seen his wedding ring on his left hand. 

The cause of the sinking of the S.S. Kamloops remains a mystery.

The Kamloops is one of twelve ships and smaller vessels in the area around the Isle of Royale that has been claimed by Lake Superiors’ powerful storms. The National Park Service protects all these shipwrecks as cultural treasures.

A side note: dives to the Kamloops are not advised because she is located at an extreme depth, so the danger of decompression is high.