The Monroe Journal wants to know 'Is the old Carter Hospital haunted?'

The following feature story, "Is the old Carter Hospital haunted?," was written by Josh Dewberry, an award-winning writer and photographer at The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Alabama. The story was originally published in the Nov. 4, 2010 edition of The Journal and is reprinted here with Dewberry's permission. Enjoy.

Headline: "Is the Old Carter Hospital haunted?"

By Josh Dewberry

Staff Writer

The Monroe Journal

Under a waning gibbous moon, I met up with former Journal Staff Writer and good friend Lee Peacock in the shadow of the historic Carter Hospital in Repton at 9:45 p.m. for a night of ghost hunting three days before Halloween.

Repton Mayor Terri Carter showed up at 10 p.m. to give us a brief tour of the building, and as we entered the back door a pack of not-too-distant coyotes began yelping and howling.

Carter took Lee - who now works for The Evergreen Courant - and I through the various rooms in the large building, pointing out a splatter of still-crimson blood on the white ceiling of the operating room and Dr. Carter's bloodstained operating clothes draped over a cabinet.

There's an X-ray machine that's older than any the manufacturer has in their archive, and recovery rooms with their original beds and coverings.

Carter left us to our business about half past 10 o'clock, and we cut off the lights and settled into chairs - most likely dating to the mid 1940s - flanking a door into one of the patient rooms in the main hallway.

For the next couple of hours Lee and I sat talking about the history of the hospital - Pulitzer Prize winning author Nell Harper Lee had an appendectomy at the hand of Dr. Carter, for example - and, with our mission in mind, talked about how many people likely didn't make it off the operating table alive.

The Carter Hospital was the only hospital for 100 miles in any direction until Monroe County Hospital opened in the early 1960s, and people drove from all over to have babies, for emergency surgery or just for their regular checkups.

There were probably hundreds of people who died within the walls of the hospital.

With all the lights off, my eyes caught a glimpse of a shadow from a room to my left. I cut on my flashlight, casting its beam in that direction, and we were able to determine the trees outside the window were dancing in front of a streetlight.

Occasionally a car would pass by, causing further light play on the wall and floor, but nothing happened we couldn't easily explain.

I packed it in for the night between 12:45 and 1 a.m., as I had to be at work by 8 a.m. Friday. Lee had the day off, so he decided to camp on the floor of the main hallway until 6 a.m.

With a handshake and a goodbye, I gathered my camera bag and flashlight and headed out the back door where we entered. The deadbolt snapped behind me, and I cast a quick glance over my shoulder to see Lee making sure the door was locked.

With nothing out of the ordinary happening in my two-hour stint, I figured Lee would get a good night's sleep with the wood in the old hospital creaking and popping as it contracted under dropping temperatures.

But something odd did happen after I left, and not long before Lee was due to crawl out of his sleeping bag. His account, taken from his column in this week's Evergreen Courant, follows:

"A few minutes after I laid down, I fell sound asleep and would likely have remained so if not for a strange noise that awoke me in the middle of the night. At 4:56 a.m., my eyes popped open, and I lay there in the pitch darkness as the sound of a creaking door filled the hallway. As unnerving as nails on a chalkboard, the noise seemed to go on forever. It was dark, but the sound seemed to be coming from the door that led down into the hospital's basement.

"Earlier that night, Carter had told Dewberry and I that when the hospital was in use, the staff would often go down into the basement to take breaks.

"Just as the creaking came to a stop, the hallway was filled with a loud bang, the sound of something heavy falling against the dark hardwood floor. When I lay down, I'd set my flashlight on end by my shoulder, and it had fallen over with a report that sounded out as loud as a rifle shot by my ear.

"Had I unknowingly nudged it in my tossing and turning in the night and finally sent it over when I awoke to the sound of the creaking door? I can't say with any certainty, but as best as I could remember, I hadn't moved a muscle after awakening to the sound of the creaking door.

"All I know is that in that moment, if something had brushed my face (say, an icy hand or an errant sleeping bag strap), it would have taken all the will power I could muster not to bolt for the door.

"Eventually, I felt around for the fallen flashlight, flipped it on and cast its bright beam all around. Everything was as it should be, expect for the door leading to the basement, which had been nearly closed earlier but now stood wide open.

"I laid back down and somehow managed to go back to sleep only to be awoken almost an hour later by my beeping wristwatch. At that time, I rolled up my sleeping bag, headed for the truck and drove home in the chilly, pre-dawn darkness.

"Only later did I really begin to think about what had awoken me at 4:56 a.m. What had caused the door to creak open? Had dropping temperatures inside and out caused the door to pop open as its wood frame contracted slightly in the night? What caused my flashlight to fall? Had I bumped it unknowingly in the darkness? Was it significant that the incident happened at 4:56 a.m., that is, at a time when the figures on my watch were in perfect numerical order?

"Who knows? I am a very skeptical person by nature and am not given to believing absolutely in claims of the supernatural. Of course, it goes without saying that this is my attitude in the nice, normal daylight hours. For on that night, in the moments that that door creaked open in the darkness, I might have been inclined to sing a different tune."

I really regret not hanging out for a little longer to see what may have happened, but hindsight is 20/20, I suppose.

I have to thank the Carter family for granting us access to the hospital for the night, and would encourage everyone to take the opportunity to visit the hospital when it's open for tours during special events in Repton.