The Dark Barn Legend
Civil.
If you look up the word, there are two definitions: “relating to ordinary citizens and their concerns,” and “courteous and polite.” Eliza and Jubal Pickett embodied both. You could not hope to find a more ordinary, courteous or polite couple.
You’d probably also add words like “hard working,” “church-going” and “family-loving” when describing the Picketts. They came here to work on the Kearns Family Plantation in the 1800's and were blessed with the birth of their only son, Joseph. When the plantation was sold in 1847, the new owners allowed the Picketts to stay on in the small house outside the barn and continue working the land.
Then came the war. The Civil War...
A national atrocity that could not have been further from the definition of the word.
“Ordinary citizens” turning against each other; maiming...killing...slaughtering. During
the war, Langley (the mansion on the other side of Cherry Street) was used as a field
hospital where wounded soldiers were treated and released or--considering the sheer
number of casualties and state of medicine at the time–died. If possible, those who
could be identified were returned to their families or received proper burial in a local
graveyard. Unidentified soldiers were buried in a mass grave near the barn.
In December of 1863, the Battle of Bean Station was fought. Among the 1600
casualties was young Corporal Joseph Pickett, who was brought back to the field
hospital on the land where he once laughed and played as a child. Whether it was the
severity of his injuries or the surgeon’s inability to treat them remains unclear, but the
outcome was the same: Joseph Pickett died. This was tragedy enough for his grieving
parents; what happened next has haunted this place for over a century-and-a-half...
Joseph’s body was not properly identified. His remains were consigned to the mass
grave of unknowns near the barn.
When Jubal and Eliza came to the hospital with the undertaker to collect their son for
proper Christian burial, the “error” was discovered. The Pickett’s howled with grief and
rage. The hospital staff did their best to remain...civil.
Neither the army nor local authorities would allow Jubal and Eliza to disinter the grave
to search for their son’s body. However, it was said that in the following months, the
couple repeatedly ventured out at night to the grave by the barn in the vain hope of
finding him.
Finally, the war ended. The Picketts’ obsessive grief did not. Once friendly to any and
all who might come their way, Jubal and Eliza were now suspicious of and openly
hostile to visitors and passers-by; it didn’t take long for people to just avoid the Pickett
farm entirely. Rumors occasionally circulated about traveling salesmen and drifters
going missing on their way through Avondale...rumors no one ever thought to link to the
growing number of “scarecrows” in Jubal’s fields.
Ultimately, the Picketts were forgotten and it was assumed that the old farm had been
abandoned. It remained so for several years.
But then, in the latter part of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the Peavine
Railroad brought traveling carnivals to Avondale. Year after year, kids would look
forward to the arrival of the performers, games, rides, and clowns–until one year, when
the carnival owner failed to get a permit to set up in town. Instead, he unloaded the
show on what looked to be an empty field between the tracks and the main road.
Young children of course had no memory of the grief-mad couple who once farmed
there, but many a parent and grandparent had a bad feeling about letting the young
ones cross that field to get to the carnival...
They say the carnival owner up and left one night after being served with a civil suit .
Maybe because he was out of money, maybe he’d gotten too friendly with a local
housewife or two, maybe some of those children never came back home; no one could
ever say for sure. Strangely, the carnival just–stayed there. Until it too became
abandoned.
After all these years, most of the stories and rumors have been forgotten. But as the
sun sets, and the chill of an October night descends, there are those who hear a distant
carnival. Some swear that Jubal and Eliza are back—that their quest for vengeance
goes beyond mortal bounds. And they will have it on all who enter The Haunted Barn...
If you look up the word, there are two definitions: “relating to ordinary citizens and their concerns,” and “courteous and polite.” Eliza and Jubal Pickett embodied both. You could not hope to find a more ordinary, courteous or polite couple.
You’d probably also add words like “hard working,” “church-going” and “family-loving” when describing the Picketts. They came here to work on the Kearns Family Plantation in the 1800's and were blessed with the birth of their only son, Joseph. When the plantation was sold in 1847, the new owners allowed the Picketts to stay on in the small house outside the barn and continue working the land.
Then came the war. The Civil War...
A national atrocity that could not have been further from the definition of the word.
“Ordinary citizens” turning against each other; maiming...killing...slaughtering. During
the war, Langley (the mansion on the other side of Cherry Street) was used as a field
hospital where wounded soldiers were treated and released or--considering the sheer
number of casualties and state of medicine at the time–died. If possible, those who
could be identified were returned to their families or received proper burial in a local
graveyard. Unidentified soldiers were buried in a mass grave near the barn.
In December of 1863, the Battle of Bean Station was fought. Among the 1600
casualties was young Corporal Joseph Pickett, who was brought back to the field
hospital on the land where he once laughed and played as a child. Whether it was the
severity of his injuries or the surgeon’s inability to treat them remains unclear, but the
outcome was the same: Joseph Pickett died. This was tragedy enough for his grieving
parents; what happened next has haunted this place for over a century-and-a-half...
Joseph’s body was not properly identified. His remains were consigned to the mass
grave of unknowns near the barn.
When Jubal and Eliza came to the hospital with the undertaker to collect their son for
proper Christian burial, the “error” was discovered. The Pickett’s howled with grief and
rage. The hospital staff did their best to remain...civil.
Neither the army nor local authorities would allow Jubal and Eliza to disinter the grave
to search for their son’s body. However, it was said that in the following months, the
couple repeatedly ventured out at night to the grave by the barn in the vain hope of
finding him.
Finally, the war ended. The Picketts’ obsessive grief did not. Once friendly to any and
all who might come their way, Jubal and Eliza were now suspicious of and openly
hostile to visitors and passers-by; it didn’t take long for people to just avoid the Pickett
farm entirely. Rumors occasionally circulated about traveling salesmen and drifters
going missing on their way through Avondale...rumors no one ever thought to link to the
growing number of “scarecrows” in Jubal’s fields.
Ultimately, the Picketts were forgotten and it was assumed that the old farm had been
abandoned. It remained so for several years.
But then, in the latter part of the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, the Peavine
Railroad brought traveling carnivals to Avondale. Year after year, kids would look
forward to the arrival of the performers, games, rides, and clowns–until one year, when
the carnival owner failed to get a permit to set up in town. Instead, he unloaded the
show on what looked to be an empty field between the tracks and the main road.
Young children of course had no memory of the grief-mad couple who once farmed
there, but many a parent and grandparent had a bad feeling about letting the young
ones cross that field to get to the carnival...
They say the carnival owner up and left one night after being served with a civil suit .
Maybe because he was out of money, maybe he’d gotten too friendly with a local
housewife or two, maybe some of those children never came back home; no one could
ever say for sure. Strangely, the carnival just–stayed there. Until it too became
abandoned.
After all these years, most of the stories and rumors have been forgotten. But as the
sun sets, and the chill of an October night descends, there are those who hear a distant
carnival. Some swear that Jubal and Eliza are back—that their quest for vengeance
goes beyond mortal bounds. And they will have it on all who enter The Haunted Barn...
