Living in a historical district, as one expects, there are ghost stories circulating. We would be remiss if we failed to tell you the one about this house – The Tale of the Ghost Pony.
One autumn evening, while enjoying the crisp northeast breeze off the Neuse river, the current owners sat enjoying their evening brandy. The aroma of the water and laughter filled the air. Stories of the day entertained their guests as the brandy quietly vanished.
On this particular evening, the woman wearing purple, shared the story of the Ghost Pony…
“During the Civil War, 409 Johnson Street, was inexistent. In its place was an empty lot which was used by the neighboring Union occupied residence to keep their steeds. The residence had been converted into a hospital to aid the wounded.
During the construction of the porch, one afternoon, after a long, laborious morning, one of the workers felt a chill down his spine. As he slowly lifted his head from his hammer he saw it – And it was running straight at him!
Terrified he cried out and squeezed his eyes shut. And then – nothing.”
To this day, if you’re patient and pure of heart, you will hear the hooves as the steed continues to search for his fallen rider. Are you afraid of the dark?
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