Does 'phantom lady' continue to roam the Red Hills area of Monroe County?

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 “Woman at well vanishes mysteriously,” was originally published in the Oct. 21, 1993 edition of The Monroe Journal in Monroeville, Ala.)

There was a time when the Red Hills area was a thriving community. But as other old communities within the county, this area has fallen by the wayside.

Quite a bit of activity once abounded across the red clay hills as the early settlers dug their living from the soil and built their homes from the rough lumber sawed from the pine and oak timber that dotted the hillsides.

As you travel the back roads of this area, you can yet see where many of the old home places once stood. An old, crumbled soap-rock chimney or a few rotted logs give evidence that here was once a home where perhaps children played and the sounds of laughter rode the winds of the evening.

It doesn’t take a lot of imagination to stand beside an old, broken crepe-myrtle bush or an abandoned well and visualize the hard work and sometimes the hardships that took place there.

Old homeplaces

A few days back, I ventured once more into this area. I stopped and visited several of these old homeplaces. As I searched my mind for some of the many stories that had been told to me about these places by a good friend, now deceased, I realized that a lot had happened along these ridges that were crisscrossed with the paths of yesterday.

I headed east past the Red Hills cemetery, toward the Locke Hill area. I remembered the story about an old homeplace that was located near the narrow road, a short distance to the south. As I slowly made my way across what now was an old abandoned field, I wondered if anything remained of the old place since my friend and I visited here last. I wondered if the remains of the old well could yet be seen, it had been several years since my last visit to this old homesite.

After parking my motorcycle, I began the search for the old well. A feeling of great excitement seemed to fill the afternoon air. Very little was left of the old homeplace to remind me that there here was once a small farmhouse where hard work and strife was as evident each day as was the coming dawn.

Tall weeds and brush had taken over the old homesite. A few rocks that had supported the small farmhouse lay almost hidden by the tall weeds and underbrush. As I searched for the old well site, the wild goldenrods seemed ever so determined to try and hide from the view the bygone events and signs of the hardships of yesterday.

Fallen into disrepair

Standing beside the old well, I thought of the story that had been told to me by a friend. The story was that after the old house had fallen into disrepair, the old well was still used by those who came this way.

Many a wagon load would stop for a refreshing cool drink from the large wooden bucket that hung from the rusty chain and roller. Then, one day, as a passing farmer and his family pulled up in their wagon, a tall, longhaired lady was seen drawing water from the well. As they stared in disbelief and amazement, the tall lady poured the water from the wooden bucket into a large pitcher there on the well curbing.

As the tall lady picked up the water-filled pitcher and turned to walk away, the team of mules hitched to the wagon panicked and began to buck and kick and try to run away.

In the excitement of trying to calm the team of mules, the tall lady with the long, snow-white hair disappeared into thin air with her pitcher of water.

After getting his team under control, the excited farmer looked for evidence as to where the mystery lady might have gone. Everyone on the wagon had seen the tall lady pour the water in the large pitcher. The large well bucket was wet, and some water yet remained in the wooden bucket. But the tall lady in white had vanished from view.

Soon, the word had been spread across the red-clay hills by the excited farmer and his family about the mystery lady at the well. But the story of the phantom lady with the long, white hair drawing water from the well was not to end for a while. Several more times she was seen at the well, filling her large pitcher with fresh well water. Then as before, she would pick up the large pitcher and step into oblivion.

Stops at the well for fresh water by those passing became less and less frequent. Those who traveled the road made every effort not to pass the area after the evening shadows began to settle across the abandoned homestead.

The large wooden well bucket dried out and fell apart from lack of use. The rough plank curbing rotted and fell into the deep well. And the structure that held the well roller and rusty chair gave way and disappeared into the abandoned well. But there were some who yet traveled the narrow road and reported seeing the ghost of a tall, white-haired woman standing by the old, abandoned well, filling her large pitcher from the old wooden bucket.

The community of Red Hills has long passed into history. Nothing remains to remind you of this large rural community but the large cemetery and the few abandoned homesites that can yet be seen if you search the red-clay hills and the thick underbrush.

The stories of its past will soon be forgotten as the winds of time continue to darken with age the granite markers that mark the final resting places of those who settled here.

But I’m sure, the ghost lady with the long white hair still returns unnoticed to the old well for a pitcher of fresh water, only to disappear again, back into the passageways of eternity.

(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.)