The Quintessential Goodbye

''With you a part of me hath passed away;

For in the peopled forest of my mind

A tree made leafless by this wintry wind

Shall never don again its green array.

Chapel and fireside, country road and bay,

Have something of their friendliness resigned;

Another, if I would, I could not find,

And I am grown much older in a day.

But yet I treasure in my memory

Your gift of charity, your mellow ease,

And the dear honour of your amity;

For these once mine, my life is rich with these.

And I scarce know which part may greater be,—

What I keep of you, or you rob of me."
~by George Santayana

"Big Ed" is still there ~ Its all Good

~ Submitted by Kathy Mahar-Stephenson, September 19, 2013
 & Printed with permission by author ~

On Labor Day weekend, in 1981, Kathy writes, "My father-in-law, Edward Hawthorne, and our neighbor, George Bassler Sr., were murdered in our front yard. It's a long and tedious story, but suffice it to say that the murder was premeditated by a man who hated my neighbor. My father-in-law was in the wrong place at the wrong time...And we have lived with the horror of that night for 32 years."

Grave stone of George Bassler: 1931 - 1981, East Wells, Vermont

"You may remember that in September of 1981, my father-in-law and next door neighbor were murdered on my property in Wells where we were building a home. A few years later, my now ex-husband was working overnight out of town. I was alone in the house with two small children. The house is quite a ways out in the country. I had put the girls down for the night and was enjoying a good book on the sofa, sitting so that I could see their bedroom doorways from the living room. A motion in the hall way caught my eye. I looked and saw my father-in-law standing there, smiling at me. He was dressed as he always was, plaid shirt and green Dickie work pants. He nodded and proceeded to go into my youngest daughter's room. A wave of peace and calm came over me and I knew then and there that, no matter how much I hated being alone in that house at night, my children and I would always be safe. We had put the property up for sale immediately after the killings, but it took 6 years to sell. Current owners are friends of mine and they often see and hear things that they can not explain. I have told them that "Big Ed' is still there. It's all good."

A Blessed Full Moon, Friends!

Collecting Your Stories ???

I would love to hear from you! 

Have you ever experienced a spine tingling moment - or do you have a ghost story - or a spooky event that you wish to share with me? 

You can remain anonymous or not - please specify!

I would love to post personal experiences from any reader, particularly if the story involves Vermont or New England. 

Email me at vermontdeadline@gmail.com 

or contact me on Facebook at 

https://www.facebook.com/vermont.deadline 

Thank you, and hope to hear from you soon! 

~Denise

Red is the Color of Blood ~ by Conrad Aiken

 

 

 

ed is the color of blood, and I will seek it:

I have sought it in the grass.

It is the color of steep sun seen through eyelids.

 

It is hidden under the suave flesh of women--

Flows there, quietly flows.

It mounts from the heart to the temples, the singing mouth--

As cold sap climbs to the rose.

I am confused in webs and knots of scarlet

Spun from the darkness;

Or shuttled from the mouths of thirsty spiders.

 

Madness for red! I devour the leaves of autumn.

I tire of the green of the world.

I am myself a mouth for blood ...

 

Here, in the golden haze of the late slant sun,

Let us walk, with the light in our eyes,

To a single bench from the outset predetermined.

Look: there are seagulls in these city skies,

Kindled against the blue.

But I do not think of the seagulls, I think of you.

 

Your eyes, with the late sun in them,

Are like blue pools dazzled with yellow petals.

This pale green suits them well.

 

Here is your finger, with an emerald on it:

The one I gave you. I say these things politely--

But what I think beneath them, who can tell?

 

For I think of you, crumpled against a whiteness;

Flayed and torn, with a dulled face.

I think of you, writing, a thing of scarlet,

And myself, rising red from that embrace.

 

November sun is sunlight poured through honey:

Old things, in such a light, grow subtle and fine.

Bare oaks are like still fire.

Talk to me: now we drink the evening's wine.

Look, how our shadows creep along the grave!--

And this way, how the gravel begins to shine!

 

This is the time of day for recollections,

For sentimental regrets, oblique allusions,

Rose-leaves, shrivelled in a musty jar.

Scatter them to the wind! There are tempests coming.

It is dark, with a windy star.

 

If human mouths were really roses, my dear,--

(Why must we link things so?--)

I would tear yours petal by petal with slow murder.

I would pluck the stamens, the pistils,

The gold and the green,--

Spreading the subtle sweetness that was your breath

On a cold wave of death....

 

Now let us walk back, slowly, as we came.

We will light the room with candles; they may shine

Like rows of yellow eyes.

Your hair is like spun fire, by candle-flame.

You smile at me--say nothing. You are wise.

 

For I think of you, flung down brutal darkness;

Crushed and red, with pale face.

I think of you, with your hair disordered and dripping.

And myself, rising red from that embrace.

"Red is the Color of Blood" 
~Conrad Aiken. 1918.

"Red is the warmest of all colors. Red is the color most chosen by extroverts and one of the top picks of males. On the negative side red can mean temper or anger. In China, red is the color of prosperity and joy. Brides wear red and front doors are often painted red. Red is Tuesday's color. Red roses symbolize passionate love. Ruby rings should be worn on the left hand. Red is the color of Mars. This planet is known as the God of War."

"Red is associated with fiery heat and warmth. It can also mean danger (burning).
Red is the color of blood, and as such has strong symbolism as life and vitality. It brings focus to the essence of life and living with emphasis on survival. Red is also the color of passion and lust."

Vermont's Chamber of Secrets

The path to the Calendar Chamber or Calendar II, near South Woodstock, is surrounded by lush green ferns and tall pines, and poplar trees. It is quiet and cool, and a palpable energy is felt as one approaches the area.

The Calendar II Chamber is a manmade underground structure composed of nine stone beam or lintels, the largest of which being approximately 3 tons (6,000 pounds). The unusual cavity astrologically aligns to summer solstice over a triangular stone which is set on a stone wall, outside of the chamber. Two external standing stones form a true (as opposed to magnetic) north-south alignment. On winter solstice, the sunrise is aligned over a notch in 2 nearby hills, and its light is cast into the entry way of the chamber. (Now supported by modern lumber for support).

The Calendar Chamber was also constructed with a hole or notch in the center of its ceiling, which could have been used for other occurrences such as eclipses or lunar events. The notch aligns with two external standing stones located outside of the chamber. A natural spring runs under it, which would make this location a sacred or holy site, as water is the conduit to life, a symbol of grace, The identification a source, such as a spring or well is ancient. Springs and wells were perceived as the dwelling place of supernatural beings, and stories and legends grew up around them. Often it was claimed that the waters healed the injured or cured the sick with the result that well or stream came to be regarded as a sacred shrine.

The date of construction is still controversial, as much scientific research has been conducted and no definitive answer has yet occurred. Speculation of the building of this site range from Native American to ancient Celts…mysterious and curious, indeed!

Entrance to Chamber

Inside the chamber, note the large slabs overhead

A standing stone at the site

Winter Solstice view at sunrise

Inside looking out

Oh, Mercie!

In 1798, William Hayden Sr., married Silence Dale in Braintree, Massachusetts.  Along with Silence, came her mother, Mercie Dale, who was wealthy in her own right.  It is said that William envisioned that acquiring land would give him prestige and power.  During that time, Mercie helped the young couple financially during hard times, as she would live with them in the future.  They settled in northern Vermont, where William continued to borrow large sums of money, and to rise in power as Town Surveyor of Albany, taking plots of land, instead of a paycheck.  He later purchased a store, a weaving mill and won a position as Town Selectmen.  

Being near the Canadian border, he eventually became the only customs officer, where it was suggested that he may have smuggled cattle across the border to amass his wealth, and lost honor among the townspeople.  During this rise (and fall) of power, he had continually borrowed money "as business" from Mercie.  After the suspicion of cattle smuggling, Mercie declined to give him any more money - no more "loans", as by now, it was obvious that he had squandered her money away to live an extravagant lifestyle. 
 

As stated, Hayden Sr. had repeatedly told Mercie Dale that he would return the money, and she continued to refuse to give him any more.  The relationship declined as Mercie steadily grew ill and suspected that he was poisoning her.  Her daughter, Silence, attempted to appease her mother, by denying that this could not be true; but in 1806, as Mercie's suspicions grew, she mustered the strength to move out of the household, but before she did, she cursed William and the Hayden family with these words:

"The Hayden name shall die in the third generation, and the last to bear the name shall die in poverty."  

William Hayden and family

William purportedly owed many people money, and lawsuits followed him.  He fled the United States to Quebec, Canada for immunity.  He was imprisoned in Montreal for disrespectful remarks toward the British, from where he somehow escaped and settled in Farnsworth, New York.  He died in 1846 - penniless.

Only 2 of the 9 children of Silence and William Sr., reached adulthood.  In 1854, Williams son - William Hayden Jr. - built an extravagantly furnished, new mansion, that still stands today.  Though the mansion has been renovated and restored in recent years, it is reported to be haunted.  Mercie's curse seemed to have inflicted the intended punishment, as William Jr.'s son Henry, died penniless in 1910.  The remaining heir was his daughter, who died in 1927.  The circle is now complete. 

"Legend has it that, many years ago, the entire Hayden family of Albany, VT, perished as victims of a curse. In 1910, a horse-drawn hearse carried the final remains of William Henry Hayden, last in the male line of his family, along the South Albany Road, to the village cemetery. Curtains were drawn across the mansion’s windows in tribute, even though the extravagantly furnished house had remained without a tenant for nearly twenty years. Some would remember Mercie Dale’s curse upon the family that the Hayden family name would die and pass into oblivion."  Source -  http://www.vermonter.com/vtpress/vermont-stories-articles/vermont-ghosts/vermont-ghosts-or-nonsense/ 

"The old house and surroundings are reputed to be haunted and widely written up in legends and lore of Northern Vermont . It is one of only a handful of reputedly haunted houses in the Northeast Kingdom.  Some say then can see ghostly lights near the property thought to be spirits of slaves that perhaps were buried in unmarked graves in the field near the farm. Some say phantom violin music can sometimes in and around the old mansion, probably a flash-back to one of the lavish parties during happier times."  Source - http://www.tomifobia.com/galexander/go_bump.html