Singleton saw something very strange in the Red Hills in October 1990

George Buster Singleton

(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere in Time.” The column below, which was titled “The glowing red face of a jack-o’-lantern in October” was originally published in the Oct. 31, 1991 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

I was told this story not too long after I arrived in this area. I had met several of the elderly citizens around the county and had explained to them that I was interested in the local folk stories and mostly about the stories of the supernatural.

I soon found out that several of these older people enjoyed talking about the local ghosts and spirits, but mostly the ones telling the stories didn’t want their names mentioned or printed, should I decide at a later date to write about these unusual goings on.

Over the years I had found this to be quite common in my travels and investigations of the spirit world. There are many who believe in the supernatural, but many of these fear that it is a trait of ignorance to be associated with the stories they tell and believe in. So, in keeping my promises, I cannot disclose the source of my information.

One day as I sat talking to this elderly gentleman, he began to tell me about something that he saw several times, many years back, near the farm where he grew up. He recalled that as a young boy and in his early manhood years, a strange phenomena appeared on the side of a hill southeast of what used to be the Red Hills community.

Several trips

Before the death of my friend, we made several during the daylight hours to the vicinity where this strange phenomena occurred. My friend would point to the side of a huge hill and say that that was the place where the strange face that glowed like a huge jack-o-lantern could be seen.

“Many a times as a boy I have sat here and watched the glowing red face move slowly across the face of that hill. We wouldn’t talk about it much because most people would laugh when it was mentioned.”

I asked if others had seen this strange sight. My old friend stated that several in the community had witnessed it.

Nothing remains of the old community today except a few crumbled soap rock blocks that some chimneys were made of. Examining the old homesteads, you might find a broken plow or a rusted and broken shovel that helped the hard-working settlers of the area dig a meager living out of the rough hillsides. But very little remains there now of what used to be a sizable farming community.

In the latter days of October 1990, I decided to venture forth and try and see for myself if this story was true. I knew that my friend would not have told me about his experience if it had not been true.

So with the full moon rising slowly across the tops of the high hills near the old Red Hills community, I turned my trail bike off the dirt road and headed down the narrow path that led to the old home place.

Evening shadows

The high hill in front of me was dark as the evening shadows seemed to hide from the bright light of the rising full moon. As I sat facing the east and the high hill in front of me, I began to listen to the sounds of the night as the bright moonbeams chased the shadows from the hillside. I watched then as the crept slowly into the crevices at the bottom of the deep ravine that ran along the bottom of the hill.

As the cool night breezes of October brushed my cheeks, I must have dozed for a moment. I realized that the usual night sounds had ceased; everything was quiet.

Off to my left, near the edge of the deep ravine, I became aware of what appeared to be a huge red ball. Only a portion of it could be seen as it slowly floated up from the ravine. I held my breath; as it slowly made its way up the hillside, I became aware that I was seeing dark places on the huge red ball. I looked closer; through these dark holes, I could see the shadows of the timber on the hillside. This was when I realized that I was looking at a huge face of a sort, as the eyes, the nose and the mouth seemed to stare at me from across the ravine.

Unusual-shaped face

As I sat spellbound, looking at the huge and unusual-shaped face, it began to move slowly across the hill, just as my friend had said it would. As it moved, it seemed to become more clearer; I now could make out the timber in detail through the eyes and the very large mouth.

It appeared to grow in size as it moved across the hill and toward the Southwest. The slight winds had now ceased; it almost seemed that the air was getting hot and somewhat sulky there where I sat. For the first time, I became aware that I was seeing what appeared to be jagged teeth around the edges of the mouth.

The huge jack-o-lantern-shaped object seemed to stop. It was now at the edge of the hill. It seemed to move up and down very slightly three or four times, as though it was bouncing on the night air. Then it began to move slowly back to my left, from where it had come.

The trip across the face of the hill was repeated three times. Each time, it moved exactly as it had before. Then the huge face-like object began to move slowly down the hill toward the deep ravine. It was now a very bright red; brighter than any time since it first appeared.

The object slowly began its decent into the large ravine. The bright red color was now fading back to a dull red; the eyes, nose and mouth could hardly be seen. Then, only the edge of the huge disc could be seen as it disappeared into the deep ravine. I became aware that the night sounds were once again all around me. The story was true. I had seen it for myself.

There was something strange and mysterious on that hillside. What was the story behind this mystery? As I headed my trail bike back up the dim path that led to the narrow road, I wondered if perhaps it could have been some lost spirit, seeking for something or someone, lost in time from a bygone era.

As I turned out on the gravel road, I thought of my friend. It has been as he said.

 (Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime resident of Monroeville, he was born on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County and served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from 1964 to 1987. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville. Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)