Grave monuments stand hauntingly under Spanish moss-covered live oaks at Bonaventure Cemetery in Thunderbolt, GA. The famous graveyard is near Savannah. Click the icon in the lower righthand corner of the player to expand the video.
A ghostly girl in Savannah, a headless apparition in St. Augustine, and an enchanted tree in Charleston – these are my favorite supernatural tales from the South. But first, I begin with my own encounter with the unexplained.
There was something at the bottom of the well.
Just a child then, I was spending the night over at a friend’s house in the rural Appalachian foothills of Northeast Alabama. He told me about an abandoned homestead deep in the woods behind his parents’ land. Like many children growing up in the countryside of the American South, my friend and I roamed the pastures and forests of our hometown freely. Property lines meant little to us.
He promised me the long walk would be worth it, and I agreed to accompany him the next day. We started our trek midmorning. My memory now decades old, it seemed like we were walking forever, partly because he lost his way a few times. We finally emerged into a compact clearing, the site of our destination.
To this day, it’s one of the spookiest places I have ever been.
The small house, partially covered by moss and teetering on the edge of collapse, must have been close to a century old. We gingerly made our way inside, careful not to put our feet down too heavily. We had explored similarly precarious structures before, and a floor collapse can quickly ruin an otherwise good day.
Despite the abundant sunshine, the interior of the house was eerily dim. The little available light revealed an unsettling scene: The rooms were still almost completely furnished. Besides a heavy coat of dust and a copious amount of spider webs, tables, chairs, and wardrobes were just as the house’s mysterious occupants had left them.
Who were they? What happened to make them leave all this behind? Those questions flashed through my mind as we surveyed each room.
Squinting against the sun, we eventually stepped back outside. I spotted the foundation of what was once likely a barn on the outer edge of the clearing. It didn’t seem worth investigating; the partially overgrown plane where it previously stood suggested it had been razed long ago. Walking around the house from the front door, I looked over the yard. There was a young tree growing around back, the only one in the brief opening of the forest.
Underneath its shade was the well.
We walked over and peered into its depth. A long distance below, water reflected the tree-filtered sky and the tiny outlines of our faces. Was this well ever capped? Another question that made me wonder if something dreadful had happened here.
My friend went to walk around again, but I lingered for a moment. I still can’t fully explain what I saw next except to say that perhaps it was a child’s overly stimulated imagination – I spied a figure moving across the bottom of the well. Supernaturally, it never rippled the water, and it appeared from and then disappeared into the rock wall.
I lurched away immediately, stumbling backward toward the house. I called for my friend, telling him it was time to leave. We ran to the edge of the clearing, and he confusedly followed along. I told him what I saw, and we double-timed it in the direction of his house.
We made a pact to never return to the clearing. Some things are better left unexplained.
While the figure in the well has neither a name nor notoriety, the following tales are well known to locals from their respective areas. These are a few of my favorite ghost stories from my travels across the Southern States.
Savannah, GA – Little Gracie Watson
Situated on the western bank of the Wilmington River, Bonaventure Cemetery is the most recognizable graveyard in the Deep South. Spanish moss hangs low off sprawling live oak branches and sub-tropical vegetation obscures striking Gothic grave markers, giving the place a half-mournful, half-sinister vibe.
The cemetery was famously featured in John Berendt’s 1994 true-crime novel Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil. A few years later in 1997, Clint Eastwood shot scenes at Bonaventure while directing his film with the same name as the book.
Two statues highlight the cemetery’s historically spooky aura. One is the iconic Bird Girl statue, which served as the cover photo for Berendt’s novel. The monument depicts a girl in a simple dress holding two bowls at shoulder level. Her head is cocked to the left quizzically, as if she had seen or heard something confounding. Due to heavy foot traffic and the threat of vandalism, the Bird Girl was recently moved to the Telfair Academy Museum in downtown Savannah.
The other statue, the one of Gracie Watson, still remains at the cemetery. Her spirit supposedly haunts Savannah to this day. Protected by iron fencing and neatly trimmed hedges, Gracie’s gravesite is one of the most visited at Bonaventure. Once the cemetery has been open for a few hours and the crowd starts to build, there’s likely to be a group huddled close to her gate. The plaque on the inside of the fence tells the sorrowful account of her death: Born to a prominent hotelier in Savannah, she died in 1889 of pneumonia at just six years old.
Gracie’s statue, bearing her first name and positioned at the head of her resting place, is exquisitely done. Wearing garments of the era, her figure is seated on the right side of a large chair or couch, her right foot crossed gently over her left. Gracie’s head, adorned with long, wavy hair, is held alert in a way that suggests some unknown anticipation. The animate quality of the statue only adds to the legend of her ghost.
If you have taken a walking tour of haunted Savannah, she was assuredly part of the itinerary. People still see her playing in Johnson Square, the site of the former Pulaski Hotel where her father was manager. A few miles away at Bonaventure, folks have witnessed tears streaming down her statue’s face.
I have been to the cemetery at different times of the day but never seen Gracie’s monument cry. However, I can say the best time to visit her gravesite is early in the morning. As the sun rises over the river, Gracie’s eastern-facing statue soon catches the light. If you are willing to wake up close to dawn, though, there’s a small window of time after Bonaventure opens that she remains in the shadow.
This brief period really brings the 19th-century sculpture to life. Moving eye level along the fence to the statue’s left, it appears as if she is following with her gaze. Just like when she’s seen playing in Johnson Square, Gracie seems happy to see you.
St. Augustine, FL – Osceola’s Severed Head
It will surprise exactly no one that America’s oldest city has a thick volume of ghost stories. And while many consider the old jail to be the most haunted location in St. Augustine, my favorite tale concerns the Castillo de San Marcos and its purported connection with legendary Seminole warrior Osceola’s severed head.
Built by the Spanish in 1672, the Castillo de San Marcos remains the most prominent landmark in St. Augustine. The fort is a marvel of construction science: It is able to absorb and repel cannon fire. The walls are made from coquina, a soft limestone consisting of broken seashells that possesses a malleable, self-healing quality.
Wrapped in an impenetrable layer of ocean-generated protection, the fort housed soldiers and prisoners for centuries. Osceola spent time in the fort’s jail after his capture in 1837 during the Second Seminole War. He was later moved to Fort Moultrie in Sullivan’s Island, SC, just north of my current hometown of Charleston.
Already plagued by health problems, Osceola died of disease soon after his transfer. Dr. Frederick Weedon, the warrior’s prison physician, was left alone with his corpse prior to the burial ceremony at Fort Moultrie. In an action that was nothing short of macabre, Weedon removed Osceola’s head, leaving the rest of the body in the coffin.
Where the severed head eventually ended up is not entirely clear. The most reliable accounts say the uniquely disturbed Weedon kept it, placing it over his children’s beds when they misbehaved. Others say the head made its way to one of Weedon’s fellow physicians who gave it to a museum that was destroyed by fire. A more sensational story suggests a witch doctor put it in a jar and displayed the head at his shop in St. Augustine.
Inside the ominously dark interior of the Castillo de San Marcos, some have reported seeing a headless shadow moving across the walls. Is this the apparition of Osceola combing his old Florida confines, hoping to locate his lost head? As with most questions concerning the supernatural, we will likely never know.
Johns Island, SC – Angels and Demons
A few hundred miles up the East Coast, Charleston has its own tangled history with the occult. Both the Revolutionary War and Civil War saw battles fought here, and fallen combatants are said to haunt the area. Just like in St. Augustine, the spirits of long-dead buccaneers supposedly roam the coast at night.
While soldiers and pirates make for great ghost stories, there’s a massive tree on an island south of the city that has the most captivating tale of them all. The Angel Oak on Johns Island spreads across the Lowcountry soil like a mutant, casting a shading area of 17,000 square feet. Outside of the redwoods on the Pacific Coast, it’s easily the largest tree I have ever seen. A sign next to the Angel Oak says its estimated age is 300-400 years old.
Over the centuries, an untold number of bodies were allegedly laid to rest under its gnarled canopy. Today, people report feeling a strong paranormal energy emanating from the Angel Oak. Visiting hours are only during the daylight, and a frightening experience by a newlywed couple may explain why.
Following their wedding at the tree, the husband and wife decided to sneak back to the Angel Oak after dark. As they made their way toward the trunk, glowing lights surrounded them. The man went to carve into the tree but was suddenly startled. Turning quickly, the couple was confronted by a demon-like figure.
The tree was once part of Angel Oak Plantation. According to legend, slaves were buried under the Angel Oak, their bodies placed on top of older Native American gravesites. Are they the current guardians of this natural wonder? Considering the horrifying account by the newlywed couple, one thing seems certain: Your intentions determine whether you see angels or encounter demons at South Carolina’s most haunted hardwood.
Mentone, AL – Granny Dollar
Last but certainly not least, it’s back to Northeast Alabama for the singular account of Nancy Callahan “Granny” Dollar. Born to a Cherokee family on Sand Mountain in the 1820s, she grew up living off the land. Her father hunted for game while her mothers (history says her father had two wives) and siblings grew crops like potatoes and corn.
During her childhood, the family hid together in a cave to escape the Trail of Tears. Several years later, the Civil War claimed the life of Dollar’s lover. She didn’t marry for another 40 years, which was around the time she turned 80. Dollar eventually outlived her husband, dying in the 1930s at over 100 years old.
The eventual centenarian was said to be a woman of inexhaustible energy. Her photo on the Alabama State Parks website, taken in old age, shows a weathered face of hardened determination: mouth clamped down on a tobacco pipe, eyes intent on the camera, brows furrowed in concentration. She credited her long life to her Indigenous upbringing and mused openly about how white men and women unwittingly drag themselves into early graves.
“The trouble with the white race is they lay up so much for old age that they quit work at 50 or 60 years,” Dollar said during an interview later in her life. “When they stop working, they get out of touch with nature; all wear shoes in summer which keeps them from God’s good earth; then they begin to fail, and soon they are dead.”
When Dollar finally did die, a band of thieves raided her cabin and took what little money she had saved for a tombstone. Her grave went without a marker for years, and locals said they frequently saw her ghost walking the area. When a monument was finally erected by a group of concerned citizens, Granny Dollar’s spirit suddenly disappeared.
Her old dog Buster, however, still haunts this part of Appalachia to this day.
Related Content
– Click to view my high-resolution photo collection from the famous Bonaventure Cemetery near Savannah.
– Click to read my feature article “Alabama: The Mystery of the Welsh Caves” on one of the most enigmatic legends in Appalachian folklore.
– Click to view my high-resolution photo collection of haunted locations in Savannah.