Yeah, so, the stretch of Route 2A between Acton and Concord already feels like the kind of place where a ghost might wander out of sheer boredom, but every December it becomes home to a haunting that locals mention.
They call him the Christmas Ghost of 2A, though older residents still prefer the name Lantern Man, as if giving him a title makes him easier to live with.
The story traces back to the 1920s, when a traveling tinsmith named Elias Cutter vanished during a Christmas Eve snowstorm.
He’d been walking the long road between towns, carrying a lantern he’d crafted himself, the sort of sturdy handiwork that could survive anything except, apparently, its owner. Elias never arrived, and no body was ever found, but the lantern’s glow has been reported ever since.
Witnesses describe a man in old winter clothes walking along the shoulder, his lantern shining with a brightness that doesn’t match any earthly flame. Drivers slow down, thinking he needs help, only for him to lift the lantern, meet their eyes, and disappear as cleanly as a blown-out candle. Radios crackle when he’s near. Headlights dim. The air feels charged, as if the road itself is holding its breath.
He appears only in the days surrounding Christmas, as though bound to the season or simply unwilling to deal with the rest of the year. And if you see him, locals say, just keep driving. He’s not looking for a ride. He’s looking for the place he never reached.
What do you think? Have you met him?
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I'm BAAAA-AAACCKKK!!!!! Let me ask you a question: Who is a haunting for? That might seem silly, but just think about it for a second. Is a haunting for the haunter or the haunted? If you were to die tomorrow, why would you haunt someone? Would it be for your sake or for theirs? Just consider what's going on. You're dead, and you're never coming back. Your Earthly coil has been shed. None of it affects you anymore. Time, space, ailments, old age, it's all gone. The length and breadth of the universe are yours. Eternity is yours. What do you do? You're a celestial being now. Does anything that happened in life matter to you? Let's say you were murdered. So what? Why would you care? You can see the endless reality of the stars ahead of you. Why would the transgressions of an evolved ape against your former meat vessel, all those breathless eons ago, matter to you? Well, maybe we can delve into that question with a look at the S.K. Pierce mansio...
Frostbite takes hold in fewer than 5 minutes. Numbness grips your limbs. Pins and needles race over your skin. Ice crystals form on your body. Your muscles stiffen. Your joints stop working. Your face turns white, then waxy, then hard. That’s what the cold does to you and the cold is New England. You can’t separate them. When a tourist comes in with smiles and words, you don’t have time for it. They get to leave and go back to the warmth. You, the New Englander, live in the cold . Do you really have to wonder why there are so many ghost stories to be told? Up in northern Maine , on the outskirts of Haynesville, there’s a stretch of road so lonely that it’s only named Route 2A. This is the extreme north of Maine in a forgotten piece of the United States that’s so distant from the rest that it gets its electricity from Canada. Not that it needs much power, though. The population of Haynesville, Maine, is only 97, and it’s not set to increase anytime soon. There was a time, however, when ...
Watch the video above or read the article below! This post was originally shared as a Facebook and Instagram "DID YOU KNOW" post. I share them and you can get in on the fun by liking my page at Facebook.com/TheNewSlightlyOddFitchburg and following me at Instagram.com/SlightlyOddFitchburg ! Now onto the haunting story! DID YOU KNOW that Newport, Rhode Island, is home to a Christmas ghost? In the late 19th century, the Beechwood Mansion was a luxurious mansion, frequented by the elite during the Gilded Age, so the fanciest people of the fanciest time. One Christmas Eve, a maid named Abigail was found dead in one of the grand halls. Rumors swirled that she had been pushed from the staircase by a jealous lover, though her death was officially ruled an accident. Fancy people in a fancy time rarely get prosecuted. Anyway, since that fateful night, guests and staff at the Beechwood Mansion have reported strange occurrences every Christmas season. The scent of Abigai...
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