The Broken-Down Barn
By Mike Eggleston
This old broken-down barn in Virginia appears ready to collapse. Water pours in through the holes in the roof and a smell of mildew and rot hits you in the face as you enter. Take care: it may come down on your head at any time. Around the walls hang old ropes and stuff so rotted that you can’t tell what it once was. Refuse covers the floor. Watch your step. Animals and birds abandoned this place long ago and won’t go near it. Besides the mildew and rot, it is also very creepy. Neighbors say that it’s haunted. I seldom enter in the daylight and never at night. The only reason I go there is curiosity. It just feels like there is something in there forcing me out. It is a challenge. Something in there is very hostile.
Some year’s ago, an article appeared in a local newspaper entitled “Custer’s First Stand”. It told the Civil War story about Custer’s cavalry fight with one of JEB Stuart’s brigades not far from here. The story relates Custer’s losing battle and in the end, how he fled the battlefield leaving two of his cavalry units to be overwhelmed by Stuart’s brigade. Those of Custer’s men not killed or wounded were rounded up by Stuart’s boys and sent South to Confederate prisons. Custer was to repeat this sort of flight again, during the Indian Wars before he was finally killed at the Little Big Horn. Custer’s wife, Livy, spent the rest of her life trying to create the illusion that Custer was a hero, but he still comes across as a fool and a coward.
The barn plays a role in this history. In 1863 it was a new and shining barn full of animals and busy farm workers. In the days following Custer’s defeat the barn became a field hospital. The wounded of both sides were carried inside to keep them out of the elements while surgeons performed their grime task. The pile of amputated arms and legs grew as did the screams of the wounded. The dead were buried in shallow graves just outside the barn. After two weeks of this carnage, those who had survived the surgeons were moved to distant convalescent homes to complete their recovery and the barn started a long spiral down to its current state.
It was a dark and stormy night…
No rain, yet, but there were many lightning flashes and thunder loud enough to wake the dead. A friend and I were bored. The television had nothing worth watching so he said: “Let’s go check out that old barn and see if it’s really haunted.” I really thought that this was a bad idea, but finally agreed. After we got out of the car, we had about a two hundred meters to thread our way in the dark to the barn with only one flashlight between us. Lightning flashes behind the barn made it look alive and actually moving. Half way there he said: “Wait a minute. I’ve got my new jeans on and it’s about to rain. I can’t get these wet. My Mom will kill me…”. I was about to ask for the flashlight, but he was gone. I could see the bobbing light of the flashlight as he ran back to the car. I waited a long time watching the light disappear and then turned back to the barn with a very uncomfortable feeling. As I entered the barn in a cold clammy sweat, I could hear a soft moaning sound between claps of thunder. Must be the sound of the wind blowing through the holes in the roof. That thought did not reassure me at all. All of a sudden, as before, I felt the compelling need to get out of that place, NOW. It wasn’t fear or panic. It was like when you forgot to open the flue in the fireplace, you start the fire and suddenly the room is full of smoke. You can’t stay. You need to get out right away and clear your head and lungs. I got out, fast. As I exited, the downpour started and I was drenched in seconds. It didn’t bother me a bit. I never returned to that old barn and never will.
Some say that the moaning is always there. The sound of the wounded soldiers from that battle so long ago. I don’t think so. I think it is the sound of Custer crying and moaning for the soldiers that he betrayed. If so, he has a few more stops to make before his night is over.
MAE
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