Episode Transcript
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They say if you stand mighty still near them ol' swings at Lake Shawnee Amusement Park,
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you might just catch the faint creak of rusted chains swinging in a ghostly breeze.
But here's the problem.
Sometimes, even when the air's as still as a tomb, that eerie sound still whispers.
Folks around these parts reckon it's because the spirit still linger.
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Shadows that's not left this here land, no matter how many years have passed.
This here's the tale of a place where laughter once echoed sweetly, crossed the hills but
sorrow slowly settled deep in its bones, leaving behind shadows that just refused to fade away.
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Welcome to Kentucky Melodies America's scariest stories, where we bring you ghostly legends,
spooky haunts, and bone-chilling tales from all over this great land.
These stories will have you looking over your shoulder all night, so pull up a chair, dim
them lights, and let's dive into the eerie and unexplained.
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Long for the park ever came to be, these here grounds in Princeton, West Virginia were steeped
in a history as dark as a moonless night and soaked in blood.
Way back in the mid-1700s, when white settlers first started pushing into Shawnee lands,
the Clay family came on down and built themselves a modest homestead right on this very soil.
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They had no inkling that they were settling on land that had long been sacred, a place
where ancient rites and old grief were carried on the wind.
It weren't long before trouble brewed.
The Clay family, hoping for a new start in this wild frontier, soon found themselves tangled
up in a bitter struggle.
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One fateful day, when tempers flared and tensions hit a boiling point, a skirmish broke out
between the settlers and them fierce Shawnee warriors.
In the midst of that ruckus, tragedy struck hard.
The Clay family lost three of their youngens that day.
Their lives cut short before they could even dream of the future.
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Folks around these parts still reckon that the very earth never forgot the sorrow that
day, as if every stone and every rustling leaf whispered the memory of loss.
Many years down the road, when modern-day archaeologists took to digging into this storied soil, they
uncovered a haunting sight.
Tens of Native American remains quietly laid to rest beneath the ground.
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It turned out that long before any settler ever trod on these lands, this very spot had
been a sacred final rest in place hallowed by generations past.
This tale, heavy with the blood of conflict and the enduring spirit of a people long gone,
still echoes through the hollers and ridges.
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It's a reminder of a time when cultures collided and the pain of loss was as real as the whispering
wind through the Appalachian pines.
By the time the Roaring 1920s rolled on, a fella by the name of C.T.
Sniddo had his eyes set on this here patch of land in a way most folks never done before.
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Now, while many in these parts were busy plowing fields or raising barns, Sniddo saw
something entirely different.
He saw a spark of joy and promise just waiting to burst forth, a promise of fun that could
lift even the heaviest of hearts.
With a vision as bright as the morning sun over the Appalachian ridges, Sniddo set about
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turning his dream into reality.
He built Lake Shawnee Amusement Park, a place where every inch of the land was dedicated
to merriment and wonder.
And wouldn't you know it, folks from all around began flocking to this marvel of a park faster
than a cat on a hot tin roof.
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Right in the heart of the park stood a ferris wheel that spun high above the treetops, offering
a bird's eye view of the vast green countryside and the distant misty mountains.
Nearby, sturdy swings dangled over the shimmering lake, their ropes creaking and moaning in
the summer breeze as they carried riders out over the water like a dream.
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And then there was the swimming hole, a cool, clear stretch of water where children would
splash and play from the crack of dawn till the sun dipped low behind the hills.
Everywhere you turned, the sweet scent of freshly popped popcorn filled the air, coming
from stands that popped kernels hotter than a midsummer bonfire.
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And with every pop and every burst of laughter, the park became a sanctuary, a place where
families could leave behind their everyday troubles and let their cares drift away like
autumn leaves on a lazy river.
Now, Lake Shawnee Amusement Park wasn't just a spot for rides and treats, it was a haven
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of joy, a spirited retreat where the simple pleasure of a laugh or the thrill of a swim
could mend a weary soul, even if just for a spell.
But joy don't always linger long in places where sorrows laid its claim.
One fine summer day, when the park was alive with the chime of laughter and the shimmer
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of sunlight dancing on the water, fate dealt the cruel hand.
It happened so fast that even the whisperin' winds seemed to pause in disbelief.
On that day, a little girl, all bright in a pink dress that fluttered in the breeze,
scampered up to her favorite swing ride.
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That swing, a well-worn contraption with ropes that had seen many a joyful ride, began to
spin merrily, lifting her high above the ground as her giggles mingled with the summer air.
But as the swing picked up speed, fate took a dark turn.
Out of nowhere, a delivery truck, rumblin' along and backin' up too close, intersected
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her path.
In the blink of an eye, her light was snuffed out, leavin' behind a silence that cut through
the park like a bitter winter chill.
As if that tragedy weren't enough to scar the hearts of those who'd come for a taste
of happiness, misfortune wasn't done yet.
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Not long after, a young boy, full of mischief and the boundless spirit of youth, found himself
at the park's beloved swimmin' hole.
That clear, cool water, once the stage for his joyful splashes and peals of laughter,
turned treacherous in an instant.
In a moment that seemed to stretch on forever, the boy was swallowed by the still, unforgiven
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depths, and his laughter was silenced, drowned in the cold embrace of the water.
Soon enough, folks started whisperin' that this here land, so steeped in ancient grief
and hard-won history, just couldn't abide so much merriment without payin' the price.
Bit by bit, as fear and sorrow crept in like a thick, Appalachian fog, the crowds began
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to thin.
The joyful echoes that once rang out through the park gradually faded into a distant memory,
replaced by a mournful quiet.
By 1966, with heavy hearts and a spirit wearied by loss, the park's gates swung shut for
good, leavin' behind nothin' but the ghostly echoes of laughter that once brought lot to
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these cherished grounds.
But, that weren't the end of Lake Shawnee's story, no, sir.
In the years after them sad days, strange goin' on have kept this place from ever findin'
true peace.
Folks say that ghost hunters, paranormal investigators, and curious wanderers keep comin' round, all
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hopin' to catch a glimpse of the restless spirits that linger in every nook and cranny
of the park.
Many a local claims they've seen the little girl in that faded pink dress, her ghostly
figure flickerin' in and out, near them rusty swings where fate dealt its cruel hand.
They say, when the wind dies down and the air sits as still as a stone, them swings start
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to sway on their own, as if some unseen little hands were gently pushin' them back and forth.
And it ain't just the swings.
That ol' ferris wheel, standin' tall and lonesome against the wide open sky, has its
own tale to tell.
Some swear they've seen its creaky cars shift and shudder ever so slightly, like something
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invisible has taken a midnight ride.
Add to that eerie cold spots that creep in without warnin', faint whispers carried on
the breeze and shadows dartin' just out of sight, and you've got yourself a place that's
as mysterious as it is haunted.
Then there's the matter of them ancient burial grounds buried deep beneath the soil.
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Many reckon that disturbing those sacred graves, long before the park was even dreamed
up, stirred up a whole mess of hauntings.
It's said that the unrest of ages past was awakened, and ever since, the landsmen whisper
in secrets of sorrow and regret.
All these eerie happenings, from spectral sightings to unexplained movements, have woven
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themselves into the very fabric of Lake Shawnee's legacy.
They say the park's troubled spirit is a reminder that sometimes joy and sorrow share the same
ground, and that the past, with all its heartache and mystery, never truly lets go.
Many a ghost-hunting cruise have made their way through these haunted grounds, all lookin'
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to prove what the folks around here have long believed deep in their bones.
They say that Lake Shawnee ain't just rusted rides and old memories, it's a place where
the past still lingers, whispering secrets in the dead of night.
Take them fellas from ghost adventures, for instance.
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They came armed with their spirit boxes, and wouldn't you know it?
In the stillness of the night, those boxes caught voices that sent a chill straight down
their spines.
Soft, urgent whispers, sayin' leave and help me, floated through the static even when not
a soul was about.
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It was like the very air was speakin' a warnin' from the other side.
Then there's paranormal state.
When they wandered near that infamous swing set, their ghost-detectin' meters lit up
brighter than a Christmas tree on a snowy night.
Every beep and flash of those meters seemed to confirm that somethin' unseen was stirrin'
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in the shadows.
Cameras have done their part too, snappin' shots and recordin' footage of shadowy figures
glidein' silently through the trees, as if caught in a dance between this world and
the next.
And EVPs, those mysterious electronic voice phenomena, recordings, have even captured
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the soft sound of children's laughter, echoin' where no children ought to be, like echoes
of lost summers tryin' to break through the silence.
It ain't just the high-tech gear that gets spooked either.
Even folks with no fancy gadgets leave the place with chills runnin' down their spines,
convinced that a brush with the otherworldly is somethin' you just can't shake off.
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Every visit to Lake Shawnee seems to leave a mark, a reminder that in these parts the
past and present are forever intertwined.
So if you ever find yourself near Lake Shawnee, take heed.
The lands old and heavy with memories, some too deep to fade.
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It's the settlers, Shawnee spirits and children who never grew up.
They all linger there, caught twix this world and the next.
Maybe they're searchin' for peace, or maybe they're just watchin', remindin' us that
some places don't forget.
So when the air grows still and the swing chains start to creak, well, best say a quiet
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prayer and head on home.
Ain't no tellin' what might be watchin' from the shadows.
And that's the tale of Lake Shawnee Amusement Park, the place where laughter turned to whispers
and shadows never quite fade.
Now, I'm mighty curious.
What do you reckon about this eerie tale of Lake Shawnee?
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Have any of you ever set foot on them grounds?
If you've done been there, did you happen to see any strange lights or hear a whisper
on the wind?
What do you think of the park itself?
Was its haunted past send shivers down your spine?
Or is it just a heap of tall tales?
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And while you're at it, let me know if you've heard of it before.
Drop your thoughts and stories in the comments below, and don't be shy.
Your own experiences might just add another layer to this here mystery.
Before y'all wander off into the night, make sure to hit that subscribe button, give a
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like, and share this spined tingling tale with all your kin.
Here at Kentucky Melody, we're always unearthin' more eerie stories and mysterious legends
that'll curl your hair and chill your bones.
And listen close now.
If tonight's whispers got your heart poundin', then you ain't heard nothin' yet.
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Return for our next video, if you dare, because the darkness is stirrin' and the secrets
of these haunted hollers are far from done.
Until then, keep your eyes peeled and your senses sharp, because the night's always