The following text was taken from Historic Haunted America by Michael Norman & Beth Scott. Copyright I cannot confirm or deny of of the stories written here. In the rugged and beautiful Berkshire Hills of western Massachusetts, where.
Table of contents
- Hoosac Tunnel
- Baby Moo's Great Escape
- Beyond NYC: Ghost Hunting in the “Bloody Pit” | AbandonedNYC
- Discussion
- Beyond NYC: Ghost Hunting in the “Bloody Pit”
Begun in , it wasn't finished until During those twenty-four years, hundreds of miners, using mostly crude black powder and pick and shovel, chipped away at the unyielding rock of Hoosac Mountain. By the time the tunnel was finished, two hundred men had lost their lives in what came to be known as "the bloody pit.
In , the explosive nitroglycerin was introduced to America and used for the first time in the construction of the Hoosac Tunnel. On the afternoon of March 20, , explosive experts Ned Brinkman, Billy Nash, and Ringo Kelley planted a charge of nitro and ran toward a safety bunker. Brinkman and Nash never made it. Kelley bad prematurely set off the charge, burying his coworkers alive under tons of rock. Soon after the accident, Kelley disappeared.
He was not seen again until March 30, His body was found two miles inside the tunnel in the exact spot where Brinkman and Nash had died. Kelley bad been strangled to death. Deputy Sheriff Charles F. Gibson estimated the time of death at between midnight and 3: An investigation was carried out, but with no suspects, the murder was never solved. Some of the workmen, however, came to their own conclusion. They knew that Kelley bad been killed by the vengeful spirits of Brinkman and Nash.
Fearing the tunnel was cursed, they balked at entering it. Paul Travers, a mechanical engineer employed on the Hoosac project, toured the tunnel with a Mr. Travers had been a highly respected cavalry officer in the Union army. In a letter to his sister in Connecticut, dated September 8, , the engineer wrote," Dunn has reassured them time and time again that the strange sound is nothing more than the wild winds sweeping down off the mountainside. Our work has slowed to the point where Mr.
Dunn asked me to help him conduct an investigation into the matter. Dunn and I entered the great tunnel at exactly 9: We traveled about two miles into the shaft and then stopped to listen. As we stood there in the cold silence, we both heard what truly sounded like a man groaning out in pain. As you know, I have heard this same sound many times during the war. Yet, when we turned up the wicks on our lamps, there were no other human beings in the shaft except Mr. I'll admit I haven't been this frightened since Shiloh.
Dunn agreed that it wasn't the wind we heard. Perhaps Nash or Brinkman I wonder? A month later, on October 17, , the worst disaster in the tunnel's history occurred. Thirteen miners died in a gas explosion that blew apart a surface pumping station. Debris filled the central shaft where the miners were working. Brought back to the surface, and almost unconscious from fumes, he gasped. Without an operating pumping station, the foot shaft soon filled with water. Bodies of some of the dead miners surfaced.
More than a year later the remaining bodies were found on a raft the men had built to float on the rising water. Every yards or so there were old field telephones set in the wall for emergency train use. These were set in alcoves and lighted. The electrical cables were everywhere, especially on the south wall, and had the nasty habit of often lying in pools of water. The brick sections of the the tunnel were particularly interesting. After about two hours in we began to hear a mechanical noise and see a spark of light far ahead. We debated for some time whether it was a train not. Thing is, there really is no place to go in the tunnel in the event of a train.
It is a press-up-against-the-wall and hope for the best situation. The light appeared to be bobbing, but we eventually realized that this was only a trick of the eye. Same thing when you stare at a star at night - it appears to jump around after awhile due to the optic nerve getting tired. After waiting awhile, and noticing that the light was not getting any brighter, we resumed our journey. The mechanical noise became louder, and was accompanied by an ever stiffening breeze.
We soon realized we were approaching where the Central Shaft opens down into the tunnel. There is a large fan situated feet up the shaft in the shaft house that draws air out of the tunnel at great velocity. Both the breeze and the noise were from the fan. Black Hole of the Central Shaft. The opening to the Central Shaft was a dark hole curving up into the south side of the tunnel. Across the tracks from the Central Shaft opening is a small brick room built into the rock.
There were various old pieces smashed electrical equipment in it. It had a window overlooking the tracks and perhaps it was a manned station at one point in the tunnel's history. At the moment it seems to be a destination for the heartiest of partiers. The graffiti crowd had discovered it too, and mementos of many a dark journey had been carved in the woodwork and painted on the walls.
One such memento proclaimed that "Ozzy lives here," presumably this was before his recent return to stardom and the purchase of that mansion. West Portal as seen from Central Shaft. The light we had been seeing turned out to be the spark of sunlight glinting in from the West Portal opening. Because the track has a slight grade to each end, with the apex at the middle, we did not see the West Portal light until we had risen high enough on the grade. Interesting as all this was, we were here for spooks, and spooks we demanded. We literally walked the first two hours in the dark hoping that would be conducive to spook attraction.
After that we lit candles and walked with those. It was great ambience, those candles - but no spooks. We had heard there was a place in the tunnel referred to as the "Hoosac Hilton. It was supposed to be obvious because the tunnel opens out in a cavernous chamber there. We never found the Hilton. Of course, we were walking in the dark, but even so we were still able to just make out the tunnel walls on either side, and I swear we never came to an area where the tunnel opened out into a large chamber area.
Spirits of the Damned? Several times during the first two hours I took pictures in the dark to see if anything spooky would like to show itself on film.
Hoosac Tunnel
Nobody that I am aware of decided to pose, but I did get one photo of some interesting specks and globes of light that appear to be floating in the tunnel. Are these souls of the dearly departed? Still haunting the site of their gristly and untimely demise? The walk from the Central Shaft to the West Portal seemed to take forever, and I have since learned that indeed - it is a longer walk than the East Portal section.
And, the West half is the wet half. Water gushing out of the walls, water raining out of the ceiling, water filling both sides of the tracks. And of course the mud. Not just any mud, but disgusto-mud mixed with decades of soot and cinders. It dried on my boots like cement. We slogged our way to the West Portal.
This end has an interesting feature - a huge garage door. I kid you not. This door is such that it can roll down and completely cover the West Portal opening. I have since heard it had something to do with snow getting in or "keeping the bears out," but it seems rather unlikely. Frankly, I have no idea why it is there. However it does bring to mind an entry from a ghost-hunting website that has long since died of shame. Apparently four intrepid ghost hunters, two men and their girlfriends approached the West Portal in broad daylight one winters day.
They felt "chills" from the "bad vibes.
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- The Trials of Academe?
- In the Beginning Was Information!
- Seeks Ghosts: Hoosac Tunnel?
- The American Worldview Alert #1.
It was there they heard the sounds of "body bags falling from the ceiling", and ran back to the womenfolk. What body-bags falling from the ceiling sound like, I don't know, but perhaps they had prior experience with this. All of which brings to mind the wife of friend who walked part of the old RR tunnel in Clinton, and who also reported "body-bags.
Andy at the West Portal. I was starved and had been looking forward to lunch at the West Portal. Andy had promised to bring lunch. We climbed up on the granite foundations of the portal and opened our packs. Andy took out a candy bar and ate it. Then he had some water. That was it - no lunch was forthcoming from the pack.
I watched him eat the candy bar. I thought hard bitter thoughts.
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I wondered if a train came through if he would get pushed in front of it. The walk back was a cold, wet, and hungry one. After about several hours on the return walk we noticed that the light from the West Portal seemed to have a different gleam to it - it didn't seem right. After some observation we finally realized that it was incandescent and coming towards us - and entirely silently.
Was it the spooks at last?
Baby Moo's Great Escape
We looked for a place to hide in the event it was a train. Somehow I had the feeling we probably were not supposed to be in the tunnel, and felt it was probably best not to be seen. There really was no place to hide though - just tunnel. However, where the brick sections butted up against the non-brick sections, there was a slight recess into the wall of about a foot.
Beyond NYC: Ghost Hunting in the “Bloody Pit” | AbandonedNYC
We decided to scrunch back into the recess and await events. Events turned out to be one of those railroad company pickup trucks - the kind that are adapted to ride on the tracks. It had its bights on and seemed virtually silent. We pressed into the recess and watched it glide by, barely an arms length away. I can't imagine they didn't see us. We continued our journey back, quickening the pace. We passed the Central Shaft section and after awhile could again see the spark of light from the East Portal.
We also noticed a red light. At this point neither of us equated lights with spooks, but with railroad personnel. We watched and waited and found another recess. Our efforts were rewarded with the realization that we had a freight train approachin'. It came on real slow. They must not go any faster that 10 or 15 miles per hour in the tunnel. The entire tunnel began to vibrate hideously long before it got to us.
When it did get to us even the rock was shaking and I wondered why the bricks didn't all fall as I pressed up against the wall. After the engine went by it was completely dark, and quite a sensation hearing car after car slam and rattle by only an arms length away in the pitch dark. Once the train passed, we had new developments - we could no longer see the light from the East Portal.
It was like something was blocking the end of the tunnel. As we continued walking we gradually began to see the portal light again and realized that there was so much black diesel exhaust fumes from the train that it completely blocked all the light. To quote again from N. Eggleston in the March Atlantic Monthly about how a perpetual cloud of smoke from up to forty trains a day made it impossible to see more than a few yards in the in either direction when in the tunnel: The engineer sees nothing, but feels his way by faith and simple push of steam through the five miles of solemn gloom.
If there is any occasion for stopping him on his way through the thick darkness, which may almost literally be felt, the men who constantly patrol the huge cavern to see that nothing obstructs the passage, do not think of signaling the approaching train in the common way. They carry with them powerful torpedoes, which, whenever there is occasion, they fasten to the rails by means of screws. The wheels of the locomotive, striking these, produce a loud explosion, and this is the tunnel signal to the engineer to stop his train.
Our final adventure over for the day, we walked out of the tunnel about an hour later, grimed from head to toe. Those walls were as sooty as a chimney. Photo by Andy Bowers. The tunnel is a gritty, dirty, cold and muddy place, and physically taxing. We almost stopped at Sleepy Hollow on the way back—maybe next Halloween.
I really enjoy your project. The Northeast is definitely an epicenter of the supernatural, or at least it feels that way. Certainly Washington Irving, Nathaniel Hawthorne, and others thought so.
Discussion
As a skeptic myself, I have, in the past, found myself questioning my assuredness. Thanks for reading, Caleb. Big Hawthorne fan here. It definitely has something to do with the literary tradition of the area, and all the gloom and doom that went along with that Puritan mentality. Lovecraft also comes to mind. I liked the story I myself have Ben aproxamity 2.
I was at the tunnel yesterday. I grew up in the Berkshires but had never been to the infamous Hoosac Tunnel. I figured after 56 years, it was time. My daughter and I ventured in and the temperature dropped immediately a good degrees. A sick feeling came over me as we watched a shadowy figure cross the tracks in front of us and disappear into the wall. It was as if the entire tunnel was breathing. The fog came out full force enough to cover the entrance. Then it all disappeared as quickly as it came. Seconds later, it appeared again and the chill reached all the way across the parking lot to us.
It felt like an icicle went right through us. Hmmmm we had been in and around that tunnel for 90 minutes and no train had come by. What had he seen? You are commenting using your WordPress. You are commenting using your Twitter account. You are commenting using your Facebook account. Notify me of new comments via email.
Beyond NYC: Ghost Hunting in the “Bloody Pit”
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