Perhaps the most famous haunted location in Erie County is the site of the old Gudgeonville Covered Bridge, which spanned Elk Creek for over a century near a gorge known as the Devil's Backbone. With rumors of paranormal activity stretching back to the early 20th century-- and a verifiable track record of bizarre deaths-- it is no surprise that Gudgeonville has become a favorite spot for ghosthunters. But when it comes to this spectacularly spooky site, what is fact and what is fiction? 

Just outside of Lewistown in Mifflin County is a picturesque little valley of patchwork farms and ancient barns. Known as Ort's Valley, this was the home of Henry Ort who, in 1903, bequeathed the cemetery on his farm to be held in trust for future burials of his descendants. Perhaps then it is no surprise that, shortly before his death in 1907, Henry Ort experienced a supernatural event that not only astounded newspaper reporters, but seemed to suggest that a heavenly reward had been set aside for him by a Higher Power. 

In 1903, the residents of York were terrorized by the appearance of a woman in a long black veil who strolled through Penn Park every night, imploring frightened passersby to lift her veil and take a peek. As if this nightly occurrence wasn't bizarre enough, it just so happened that Penn Park was once the site of a potter's field where York's impoverished and unknown dead had been buried in unmarked graves, as well as the site of a Civil War hospital.

Thousands of meteors streaked across the Pennsylvania sky for several weeks in October of 1907, with meteorites crashing into Schuylkill, Dauphin, Northumberland and surrounding counties by the hundreds. Across the mid-state, enormous chunks of red-hot space rock set forests ablaze while farmers and livestock alike huddled in barns and basements, fearful of their lives. From Wilkes-Barre to York, hundreds of men and women dropped to their knees in prayer, with many in hysterics. Surely, they thought, this is an omen of the end of the world.

It was a Wednesday morning in May of 1939 when neighbors of the Cook family made a startling discovery-- a bloody axe lying upon the ground. Being a farming community not far from the Ohio state line, blades and bloody implements weren't terribly uncommon in South Beaver Township; the necessities of daily life often required the butchering of a chicken or the slaughtering of a pig. But there was indeed something about the bloody axe that was very uncommon, and grounds for some concern-- there was hair stuck to the blade, and the hair appeared to be human.

Constructed by the Army Corps of Engineers in 1961, Kettle Creek  Reservoir in Clinton County is a popular destination for fishermen,  boaters and swimmers. Yet, beneath its peaceful waters rests the bones of long-forgotten early settlers of Leidy Township.

Just about everyone in Pennsylvania knows about the ghost town of Centralia, and most folks who were born and raised in the area, such as myself, have spent many a summer day exploring the post-Apocalyptic terrain, marveling at the smoke billowing from cracks in the abandoned streets, and pondering the fire that has been burning underground for generations. However, very few locals remember Centralia's smaller and lesser-known neighbor-- the once-bustling village of Logan. Like Centralia, Logan also became a casualty of the infamous mine fire.

When one thinks of murder scenes, the mind naturally gravitates towards secluded wilderness spots, dark basements, bar rooms and back alleys. The actors in these grisly crimes, if justice is lucky, are arrested and locked up until such time as they are called upon by the  criminal justice system to face the consequences of their sinister deeds in a courtroom. We tend to view courtrooms as impregnable places where killers go to face the music for their crimes-- not places where a murder is likely to occur. Yet, the Cumberland County Courthouse in Carlisle was the scene of a shootout in 1955 which resulted in the death of an attorney, and the wounding of several others, including a judge.

The story of the rise and fall of Frank Lee Wilson is a remarkable tale; it is the tragic story of a quiet, tiny man tasked with the awesome responsibility of meting out justice to the state's most hardened and repugnant criminals. And it is a cautionary tale about how a mild-mannered individual can turn into a cruel, hardened shell of a human being in just a few short years after being granted the God-like power of revoking human life.

When John Wentzel discovered a human skeleton buried in the basement of his Federal Street home in Lebanon in 1926, it set into motion a bizarre chain of events that whipped the entire city into a frenzy. It is a  story of a chilling nightmare-- following by a gruesome find-- that still puzzles fans of paranormal unsolved mysteries to this day.