Washington Opera House

Maysville's Washington Opera House is said by some to be one of Kentucky's most haunted places, but it's also notable for being the fifth oldest performing arts theatre in the United States. The building was erected in 1898, on the spot where a previous opera house had stood since 1851.

Of the many alleged ghosts here, one of them is believed to be that of Loretta Stambo, a dancer in a traveling theatre troupe in the late 19th century. Supposedly Stambo was in town to perform and collapsed onstage from pneumonia. On her deathbed, she requested to be buried underneath the dressing room there. Unfortunately, like most ghost stories, this doesn't sound terribly believable. The ways in which this story is so unlikely are so numerous I'm not even going to enumerate them.

I tried a cursory Google search but couldn't actually come up with any proof that Loretta Stambo ever even existed. Some versions of the account list her name as Laura Stambo, and I did find a Laura Stambo from Floyd, KY in the 1930 census, but this obviously could not be the same person who supposedly died in Maysville in the late 19th century.

The book Cincinnati Ghosts, And other Tri-State Haunts recounts various anecdotes actors have told over the years of weird goings-on in the Opera House, however. A Coke bottle is said to have exploded in the dressing room, which of course was taken as a sign that Loretta's ghost must have been displeased.

The story is told that a picture of Loretta was painted on the wall of the lobby area, and that its eyes would follow people. Supposedly it was painted over numerous times but the portrait remained visible, with the eyes of Loretta in this painting seemingly becoming angrier and angrier. Aside from these campfire tales, however, there is no proof that such a painting ever existed, nor that it paranormally refused to stay painted over.

Like most ghost stories, it snowballs as subsequent generations hear of the legend, and then they start looking for something weird to happen. Spooky noises and distant footsteps are the commonly reported "evidence" proferred by people who insist that it simply must be the angry ghost of this hypothetical actress whose corpse supposedly lies under the dressing room floor.

I don't rule out the potential for genuine haunted activity here, however. Theatres can often be a magnet for psychic energies and paranormal phenomena, and there is a lot of history here. I just like the place for its own sake. The Maysville Players have been putting on shows consistently in the Washington Opera House since 1962, so check out one of their shows this summer. The Opera House is at 116 West 2nd Street (the corner of 2nd and Grave) in Maysville.

Square Deal Grocery

The Hopkinsville Nostalgia site, frequently a source of inspiration to me, has some nice old photos (circa 1950s and 1960s) of Square Deal Grocery in Hopkinsville.

Concrete Block Gravestone

This gravestone in Berrytown Cemetery is nothing more than a concrete block, not even with a name on it. Then again, it's a very unusual concrete block, filled with little round creek stones as aggregate.

Police Doughnuts

This is possibly the weirdest donut shop I've ever set foot in.

First of all is the concept. Police Doughnuts. At first I wasn't sure if this meant donuts for policemen, donuts made by policemen, or both, or neither. A huge police van stays parked out front bearing their insignia, and though it's not as hip as the Spinelli's van, I salute their wackiness.

Then there's the hours. The place opens at 7am, they make just one batch of donuts, and they close whenever they sell out. Either they're doing a terrific business already or they just aren't making many donuts to start with, because I've been out there as early as 9:30am and found them closed.

(But...but... the whole reason cops are associated with donuts in the first place is because Krispy Kreme-type places and convenience stores have historically always been open late, and thus popular with third-shift patrolmen. So, shouldn't Police Doughnuts be open all night instead of just an hour of frenzied trading at the crack of dawn?)

And then when you walk into the place, you notice that 5/6 of the place is empty. No tables or chairs. Nothing. You walk toward the back to a cash register and a dry-erase-marker sign listing only three or four types of donuts for sale (Today it was Glazed, Chocolate, Blueberry and Maple.) There are no sugar-free, gluten-free, or "light" options, and a sign on the door says "Warning! Counting calories? Keep Out!" I love it. It's the total opposite of my other favorite Kentucky donuteria, Doughdaddy's, which offers you a staggering amount of choices.

There is no glass display case. No donuts are actually seen in the store. You read the short list, make your decision, tell the cashier, and she disappears into the back to fetch your donuts. It's all rather bizarre.

All that matters in the end, though, is the product: is it any good? Oh yeah. Oh hell yeah. I'm addicted to their maple donut and hope they gradually branch out into more flavors as their business grows.


As it turns out, the store is the brainchild of Ken Borders, a former State Trooper and arson detective who opened it just a few weeks ago. Although he had never been in the restaurant or bakery business before and knew nothing about it, he saw a Food Network program about doughnuts and decided to jump into it. Now that's the true American entrepreneurial spirit that I like to see!

Go to Police Doughnuts. Go early. It's near the corner of Shelbyville Road and Juneau Drive in Middletown. Tell 'em I sent you by!

Bone in Berrytown Cemetery

I was in Berrytown recently taking pics for a new book project, when I came across a freakin' bone laying in the grass at the cemetery.

Considering that in recent weeks and months people have found skulls and fetuses left in Kentucky cemeteries, and that vandalism and that grave-robbing are on the rise, I was naturally suspicious.


Probably just a pork neckbone or something. How'd it get here? Good question.

Then again, it is covered in dirt, as if it had been buried and dug up.

On the other hand, it could be a stewbone buried by a dog, as dogs are wont to do, and subsequently dug up for gnawing on later.

I think I'll go eat some pie now and not think about it.

Silhouettes

In plain view, yet easily missed if you don't look up, are these spooky silhouettes in the windows of this building near Actors Theatre in downtown Louisville.

Purnell's Piggy Propane

On page 213 in your copy of Weird Kentucky, you'll find the grave of Fred Purnell, Kentucky's sausage king. His is the only gravestone I know of that depicts a package of sausage on it, and a smiling cartoon pig to boot. Purnell's sausage company is still thriving in Shelby County today, and in their front yard there's a huge propane tank mimetically painted to look like - yes - a package of Purnell's sausage!

Bagdad

Most Kentuckians know that we have a Paris, a London, a Lebanon, and a Manchester, but were you aware that we have our very own Bagdad?

Although not quite as opulent as the Baghdad in Iraq, ours has cooler old grocery stores (like B&N Food Market with an original early 1960s Sprite sign), and that's what really important.

"Coal from the Altar"

For some reason, Middletown Cemetery has a preponderance of odd quotations, pithy sayings, mottos and messages on the gravestones of its occupants. This one, "The angel touched his lips with a coal from the altar", is apparently a reference to Isaiah 6:5, 6:6 and 6:7:

Then said I, Woe is me! for I am undone; because I am a man of unclean lips, and I dwell in the midst of a people of unclean lips: for mine eyes have seen the King, the LORD of hosts.

Then flew one of the seraphims unto me, having a live coal in his hand, which he had taken with the tongs from off the altar.

And he laid it upon my mouth, and said, Lo, this hath touched thy lips; and thine iniquity is taken away, and thy sin purged.

"Vold J.M.U."

What does it mean??

From Middletown Cemetery, Middletown, KY.

Two UFOs in Northern KY

A post on unitedstatesufo.blogspot.com tells of a UFO sighting in Edgewood, KY:

I was outside smoking a cigarette and as I always do I look up at the sky and star gaze. As I was looking I saw what appeared to be a red orb with a tail of bright white and green. It was moving at a speed that is unimaginable.

Now, me, I would think that a UFO moving "at a speed that is unimaginable" would be zipping by so fast that you couldn't tell what color it was, or what shape it was, or that it was even there. If it's slow enough to look at it and say "huh, looky there", then it's not unimaginably fast. But be that as it may, someone responded to the post with a sighting report of their own:

I live in Florence, Kentucky, which is about 15 minutes away via I-75 South.

Friday, February 13th around 9:30 or so my daughter and I witnessed at first thought to be a bluish falling star.

Quickly, it turned into a large green orb with what appears to best describe as several lights inside. It was not a comet as no tail was visible.

It just came out of the sky and made a slight turn and became large and was gone as if someone turned off the lights.

Homicidal Doctor Pushes OxyContin to Kentuckians

Back in February a Tennessee doctor named Visuvalingam Vilvarajah was arrested in Harlan County, KY on charges of engaging in organized crime, assault and wanton endangerment. According to the indictment, Vilvarajah provided prescriptions for large quantities of drugs knowing they weren't for patients' personal use.

During the course of the narcotics and organized crime investigation, the Harlan County sheriff found that at least 350 people in the area carried prescriptions from Vilvarajah and his partner. These drugs included several types of painkillers, including OxyContin and methadone.

But that's not the weird part. Sadly, that sort of thing is rampant these days.

The weird part is, after being taken into custody, the Kentucky police realized that Vilvarajah had previously been convicted in 1986 on two charges of second-degree murder. According to news reports, he learned his wife was about to leave him and shot her and her mother in the head.

The even weirder part is that he only served five years for second-degree double murder, and that his medical license was fully reinstated. (If I ever kill someone, remind me to do it in Tennessee.)

Vilvarajah faces up to 75 years in prison if convicted.