Ep250 - Washington Weirdness & The Haunting Of Mount Vernon - Creep Street Podcast

Episode Transcript
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Speaker 1 (00:05):
General, the days are cold and the night's colder. The
men are sick and starving. We've run out of boots.
We eat bark Ezekiel is hallucinating and thinks he's a goat.
Must we remain in valley forge?

Speaker 2 (00:24):
I know, Sun, I know my God. I wonder if
we stand a chance at all? This land, this bitter,
frozen hell. It's breaking them and it's breaking me.

Speaker 1 (00:36):
I think my toes mutinied last night. I woke up
and they were gone. Holy hell. But in Jefferson's bridges?

Speaker 2 (00:48):
Is that? Are they ice skating and powdered wigs?

Speaker 1 (00:53):
They've got a fun new fountain. Why do we have
to suck stew out of a boot heel while they're
over there doing one lake in certain bridges? Even their
farts probably smell like cinnamon.

Speaker 2 (01:05):
Empire, that's enough, soldier, turn away. They want us to
envy them, But.

Speaker 1 (01:12):
They've got a string quartet. Plain God, save the key
on flavy violins.

Speaker 2 (01:17):
General, those smug, powdered devils. How are we supposed to
win a war when our men's morale is colder than
Franklin's out house seat? What the devil?

Speaker 1 (01:31):
It's beautiful? Is that an angel. What are those Hessians
with a gloss stick again?

Speaker 2 (01:39):
No, I've seen it before, it whispers secrets. Ah, there
you are, George Washington, General Statesman, hemp enthusiast. I've been
observing your little rebellion with great interest and mild into

(02:00):
congestion troop movement.

Speaker 3 (02:02):
To the east.

Speaker 4 (02:03):
British morale is teetering like a tipsy duchess. Avoid white
marsh and all cost unless you enjoy Barnett's to your
speen engage at dawn.

Speaker 2 (02:17):
Youre welcome. Thank you, noble spear, divine harbinger, talking lantern
from the beyond lantern A lantern, you say, you, presumptuous
powdered dandy.

Speaker 4 (02:31):
I am a transdimensional tactical genius with a glow rate
of twelve megacandelas per sacred axis. I do not blink
morse code from the corner of some revolutionary outhouse lantern.
He says, next, he'll be calling me a sentient skance.

Speaker 1 (02:50):
It's kind of a lot for a magic ball.

Speaker 2 (02:53):
Magic ball.

Speaker 4 (02:55):
I am the wardon of reality's loose straits. I help
your if I invent coffee, just so you'd have the
strength to put your breeches on in the morning, and
you deign to call me a magic.

Speaker 2 (03:09):
Ball, we apologize great awe here.

Speaker 4 (03:13):
You should honestly Without me, you'd still be chasing squalls
for protein and spelling constitution with a K. Also, Ezekiel
is drawing strategic plans using goat shit.

Speaker 2 (03:27):
Please stop him.

Speaker 4 (03:29):
Remember flank from the left, not the emotional left. Like
last time, No one wins the war with interpretive dance
and passive aggressive letters.

Speaker 2 (03:39):
This dimension is a mess. We march it down. God
help the Red Coats and whoever has to deal with
that inter dimensional douchebag ball. Was it divine? Was it alien?
Or just a glittering cosmic bastard with a superior already complex.

(04:01):
Whatever it was, it gave George Washington a reason to
get out of bed that morning, and in seventeen seventy seven.
That's saying something for all of you citizens of the

(04:38):
Melky Way. My name is Dylan Hackworth.

Speaker 1 (04:41):
And I'm Gage Hurley.

Speaker 2 (04:43):
Ooh, and together we are crossing the icy cold Delaware
about to pay the English a visit icy wastelands of
Valley Forge, Pennsylvania. That's right, folks, it is the two
hundred and fiftieth episode of the Creep Street Podcast just
one year nine, one year nine of the two hundred

(05:06):
and fiftieth anniversary of this dear country. That's right. Today
we're raising Old Glory, we're giving her a salute, and
we're paying homage to the og, to the very first,
to the powdered Prince of all of the Whigs, George Washington. Yes, yes, yes,

(05:27):
that's right, folks, dive in and buckle up, because today's
episode is Weird Washington and the Haunting of Mount Vernon.
M that's right, that's right. Let me declare my independence

(05:47):
with my sources. Here. First, we have haunting encounters with
revolutionary ghoules at Battlefields dot org, ghost Stories at Mount
Vernon dot org, and Great George's Ghost Josiah Quincy the
Third and his Fright Night at Mount Vernon at Mount
Vernon dot org. And George Washington and a World of

(06:10):
Weirdness by Brent Swansor at Mysterious Universe. Now, Folks, when
you crack open a history textbook, especially here in the
United States, of course, you'll find a little place called
Valley Forge standing out as a location that was vital
to the American Revolution. When I was young the name

(06:31):
Valley Forge made me think of fudge, but that's besides
the point. But in truth, if you were a colonial
soldier back in that day, Valley Forge would have reminded
you of snow, starvation and soldiers wrapped in rags, which
was the bitter reality of the winter two hundred and

(06:51):
fifty years ago. It's where George Washington and his ragtag
banned a fighter supposedly endured the coldest, cruelest winter that
the Revolution had to offer. Oh yes, George Washington, that
powder wigged Papa of the American Revolution, first president of
these United States, and a man whose visage has been

(07:12):
plastered on everything from the dollar bill to the Fourth
of July barbecue aprons that youamma wears. He was a
founding father, a war general, a constitutional architect, all ruled
into one tall drink of colonial water. Folks didn't just
call him the father of his country for kicks and
for all his glory, grit and gravitas. It turns out

(07:36):
even old George Washington wasn't above brush and elbows with
the downright bizarre. Now, one of the strangest little threads
tangled up in the powdered wig of George Washington's legacy
supposedly unraveled there at Valley Forge, Pennsylvania, smack dab in
the winter of seventeen seventy seven. Oh and what a

(07:59):
cold winter it was. Feel it. You could probably hear
the bitter winds right now, the ooh, the chattering of teeth.
This was no holly, jolly winter wonderland folks. The Continental
Army was half starved, freezing their red, white and blue
balls off, and just about ready to pack it in.

(08:21):
But old Georgie porgy pudding in pie, steely eyed and somber,
kept the fires of revolution lit. And it was during
this icy crucible that Washington allegedly confessed something downright strange
to one of his closest officers. He claimed that on

(08:43):
some frigid evenings he would be visited by mysterious entities
that he called the green Skins. These were not Hessian
mercenaries and camouflage. No, these were short green skins and
warriors who stepped out of the woods like mossy faithfolk,

(09:04):
emerging from a glowing orb that would drift through the
forest like a ghostly lantern. Washington said they'd meet with him,
share hints of tactical insight enemy movements and the kind
of war wisdom no human had business knowing. And get this,

(09:25):
he apparently credited them with helping secure victory. That's right,
the father of the country might have had some extraterrestrials
in his corner rooting for him. So who exactly were
these green folk? Well, back in the eighteenth century, Washington,

(09:47):
a man of his time, may have just chalked it
up to a tribe of particularly eccentric Native Americans. Maybe
he thought the green hue was just war paint and
that was the most logical things human brain could come
up with. Oh but baby hindsight has a nasty habit
of pulling back the curtain to show you that twenty

(10:08):
twenty because in the years since this story has taken
a turn for the interstellar. And it also mentions these
things were smaller, and I would assume that meant smaller
than the average human. Enter Scottish historian Quinton Bird, who
claims to have caught a glimpse of lost passages from

(10:32):
Washington's personal day book, Yes, the very one he dedicated
to his military secretary nearly every day, and buried in
those dusty pages were reportedly repeated mentions of the green
Folk in their wandering Orb, which Washington noted had a

(10:53):
curious tendency to change locations or vanish from sight. Entirely
sounds more like our boy George might have had himself
some alien advisors, or inner dimensional tacticians, or something even strangers. Still,
historian Quinton Bird had this to say. The usual interpretation

(11:17):
is that the glowing globe was a rounded lodge made
of animal skins that glowed from the firelight inside. Until now,
historians have assumed Washington was referring to a tribe that
used green war paint. Washington probably thought he was talking
with an extremely talented native war chief or a medicine

(11:40):
man with powers bordering on the magical. But it also
is strange that sometimes this globe is behind Washington's headquarters,
and sometimes it's not. A native lodge is either there
or it's not. The thing came and went, which is
entirely consistent with a spacecraft that pays occasional visits. There

(12:03):
are also references to a hovering and disappearing globe. Well,
Quentin Bird's theory puts it plain. He believes that the
glowing Orb wasn't some cozy little wigwam of sorts. No, baby,
that thing was a dang craft and the green folk
these were likely not native warriors, nor even vision fueled

(12:27):
apparitions fueled by hunger, exhaustion, and exposure to the elements.
Perhaps these were full on alien tacticians' intergalactic allies dropping
tactical knowledge on Old George like some kind of cosmic
DARPA project. According to Bird, it wasn't just grit and
gumption alone that pulled Washington through to victory. It may

(12:50):
have been extraterrestrial intel that tipped the scales at Valley Forge.
And yes, there are actual record it's from Washington's dictations
that reference these so called green skins, which side note,
honestly kind of sounds wrong to say, Yeah, It sounds
like it could easily be like a slur of some kind, Yeah,

(13:12):
which is why I've been kind of which is kind
of why I've been saying, yeah, which back then, you know,
they probably just threw it around, you know, yeah, them
darn green skins.

Speaker 1 (13:23):
I could definitely see that if we ever made contact
with aliens and shared a society with them in some way,
I could imagine people calling them green skins.

Speaker 2 (13:33):
They're like big fans of the Creep Street podcast. But
they go back to an old episode and hear us
use that term and it's like backfires.

Speaker 1 (13:41):
Honest, Yeah, it doesn't hold up.

Speaker 2 (13:43):
We have to do an apology to her, you know,
you know, donate to some charities, you.

Speaker 1 (13:48):
Know, I write some alien charities.

Speaker 2 (13:51):
But the question still rattles our collective wooden teeth. Who
or what were they? Really? Were they little green men
from on the stars, just some unusually painted up locals
or even hallucinations brought on by hunger and frostbite? And
how small were they exactly simply smaller than the average

(14:14):
European colonist or actually small? Or is this just one
of those stories that snowballed into campfire gold over the centuries.
Whatever the case, this strange little slice of revolutionary weirdness
remains buried in the footnotes of history. And unless the
green Folk decide to make a comeback to her, this

(14:36):
one's probably going to stay a mystery for a long
long time.

Speaker 1 (14:41):
That's interesting. You know, we've all heard in media somewhere
over the years referred to aliens as little green men. Yeah,
that's kind of become a bit of like a trope.
This is a really early description of that. I wonder
if this is one of the.

Speaker 2 (14:56):
Earliest yes, because really it was kind of of the
nineteen fifties where that phrase kind of started coming around
with We covered it already a while back. But the
kelly Ville Hopkins encounter these little green, almost goblin like creatures,
that was it was always debated because right before they appeared,

(15:17):
there was a light coming down from the sky into
the woods. But the family also lived near vacant mines
there in Kentucky, so it was always debated did they
come from the sky or were these creatures coming out
of the mines. But anyway, the whole idea of little
green men is where we kind of credit that with starting.

(15:37):
But no, it appears like it might have started with
Old George.

Speaker 1 (15:40):
Yeah, I would have thought that's where it started. That's
kind of what you think of as the fifties and
especially the be sci fi movies and things.

Speaker 2 (15:48):
But this is, I mean centuries earlier, absolutely, and folks
were not done with the freak show at Valley Forge
just yet because tucked inside the snow drifts and sped
actual gloom of that brutal winter is another tale, one
with wing a strange little yarn that might connect to

(16:09):
our mysterious green folk. Or maybe it's something altogether more divine.
The story goes like this. According to the legend, Washington
claimed he had come face to face, not with an
English soldier, not with a turncoat spy, but with get this,
an angel, a literal, glowing being of benevolent light, ethereal

(16:35):
and full of prophetic wisdom, one that supposedly laid before
him a vision of the future of America. Now this
wasn't just old George letting the frost get to his brain.
This account comes to his courtesy of a man named
Anthony Sherman, who claimed he overheard Washington recounting the experience.

(16:58):
Years later, Sherman spilled celestial tea to a reporter, and
thus the tale entered into the smoky undercurrent of American mythos.
Was this angel a messenger of God in the biblical sense,
perhaps some manifestation of Washington's own desperate hopes during one
of the darkest chapters of the war, Or if you

(17:20):
want to stir in a shot of sci fi into
this revolutionary cocktail, was this radiant being actually part of
the same alien entourage as the green Folk, a glowing
emissary sent to push American destiny forward. Whatever the truth,
one thing certain, Valley Forge wasn't just cold. It was

(17:43):
downright weird. And it was right here when preparing the
script for today's episode, just how ironic it was that
we're talking about quote green Folk, when just last week
our episode was on the Lizard Men, one in which
we touched on the concept of reptilians, clandestine creatures that

(18:05):
supposedly pull the levers of power. Here's how Sherman reported
about how Washington himself described what he saw. Washington apparently claimed,
I don't know whether it's due to the anxiety of
my mind or what, but this afternoon, as I was

(18:26):
preparing a dispatch, something seemed to disturb me. Looking up,
I beheld standing opposite me a singularly beautiful being. So
astonished was I, for I had given strict orders not
to be disturbed that it was some moments before I
found language to inquire the cause of the visit. A second,

(18:51):
a third, and even a fourth time did I repeat
my question, but received no answer from my mysterious visitor.
The slight raising of the eyes by this time, I
felt strange sensations spreading through me, and I would have risen,
but the riveted gaze of the being before me rendered

(19:14):
volition impossible. I essayed once more to speak, but my
tongue had become useless, as though it had become paralyzed.
A new influence, mysterious, potent, irresistible, took possession. All I
could do was gaze steadily vacantly at my unknown visitor. Gradually,

(19:38):
the surrounding atmosphere seemed to become filled with sensations and
grow luminous. Everything about me seemed to rarefy, including my
mysterious visitor. I began to feel as one dying, or
rather to experience the sensations which I have sometimes imagined

(20:00):
accompanying dissolution. I did not think, I did not reason,
I did not move. All were alike impossible. I was
only conscious of gazing fixedly vacantly at my companion. Presently
I heard a voice saying, Son of the Republic, look

(20:21):
and learn, while at the same time, my visitor extended
an arm eastwardly. I now beheld a heavy vapor at
some distance, rising fold upon fold. This gradually dissipated, and
I looked out upon a strange scene. Before me, lay
spread out in one vast plain, all the countries of

(20:44):
the world, Europe, Asia, Africa, and America. I saw rolling
and tossing between Europe and America, the billows of the Atlantic,
and between Asia and America lay the Pacific. Now well, well, well, well,
this so called Angel of Valley Forge didn't just flap

(21:07):
its wings and say good luck Georgie and leave to
grab a filly cheese steak. No, no, no, this thing
came bearing a vision. According to the tale, this celestial
messenger showed Washington a sweeping panorama of America's future. It
wasn't just about muskets and red coats. It was about

(21:28):
what came after the birth, pangs of a new nation,
the dark clouds of future wars, civil unrest, foreign invasions,
you name it. Like some holy vision of a Christmas Carol,
George was visited by more angels, and not all of
them were of the precious moment's variety. One in particular

(21:52):
stands out a figure cloaked in darkness, a tall, brooding being,
a quote shadowy angel that loomed like a bad omen
over the entire scene. And get this, it didn't speak.
It just stood there, watching, waiting, a sinister spectator. The

(22:17):
imagery that was shown to Washington is described as both
surreal and terrifying. Cities in flames, soldiers marching through chaos,
oceans boiling with war, and through it all, Washington supposedly
stood frozen in the woods, eyes wide, absorbing every apocalyptic

(22:39):
frame of this supernatural slideshow. And when it was over,
the angel told him not to fear that the soul
of the nation would endure. Was this divine intervention some
kind of patriotic payote trip, or was it just one
more piece of evidence that Valley Forge was cross with

(23:00):
things not of this earth? Whatever it was, it left
our founding father shook. Washington would continue to describe the encounters.
Sang Son of the Republic, said the same mysterious voice
as before, look and learn. At that moment, I beheld

(23:21):
a dark shadowy being as an angel, standing or rather
floating in mid air between Europe and America, Dipping water
out of the ocean in the hollow of his hand,
he cast some on Europe. Immediately, a cloud raised from
these countries and joined in mid ocean. For a while,

(23:41):
it remained stationary and then moved slowly westward until it
enveloped America and its murky folds. Sharp flashes of lightning
gleamed through it at intervals, and I heard the smothered
groans and cries of the American people. A second time,
the angel dipped water from the ocean and sprinkled it

(24:04):
out as before. The dark cloud was then drawn back
to the ocean, in whose billows it sank from view.
A third time, I heard the mysterious voice saying, Son
of the Republic, look and learn. I cast my eyes
upon American beheld villages and towns and cities string up,

(24:27):
one after another, until the whole land from the Atlantic
to the Pacific was darted with them. Again I heard
the mysterious voice say, Son of the Republic, the end
of the century cometh, Look and learn. And this time
the dark, shadowy angel turned his face southward, and from Africa,

(24:49):
I saw an ill omen specter approach our land. It
fitted slowly over every town and city of the Latin
The inhabitants presently set themselves in battle against each other.
As I continued looking, I saw a bright angel, whose
brow rested a crown of light, on which was traced

(25:12):
the word Union. Airing the American flag, which he placed
between the divided nation, he said, remember, ye are brethren.
Instantly the inhabitants, casting down their weapons, became friends once
more and united around the national standard. Again I heard

(25:32):
the mysterious voice saying, son of the Republic, look at
the line. At this the dark, shadowy angel placed a
trumpet to his lips and blew three distinct blasts, and
taking water from the ocean, he sprinkled it on Europe,

(25:53):
Asia and Africa. Then my eyes beheld a fearful scene
from which one of these these countries arose thick black
clouds that were soon joined into one. Throughout this mass,
there gleamed a dark red light which I saw hordes
of armed men, who, moving with the cloud, marched by

(26:15):
land and sailed by sea to America, which country was
enveloped in the volume of cloud. And I dimly saw
these vast armies devastate the whole country and burn the
villages and towns and cities that I had beheld. Springing
up as my ears listened to the thundering of the cannon,

(26:35):
the slashing of swords, and shouts and cries of millions
in moratlled combat. I again heard the mysterious voice, saying,
Son of the Republic, look and learn. When the voice
had ceased, the dark Angel placed his trumpet once more
to his mouth and blew a long, fearful blast. Instantly

(26:59):
alight as of a thousand suns shone down above me
and pierced and broke into fragments the dark cloud which
enveloped American. At the same moment, an angel, upon whose
head still shone the word Union, and who bore our
national flag in one hand and a sword in the other,
descended from the heavens, attended by legions of white spirits.

(27:23):
These immediately joined the inhabitants of America, who I perceived
were well nigh overcome, but who immediately taking courage, again
closed their broken ranks and renewed the battle. Again. Amid
the fearful noise of the conflict, I heard the mysterious
voice sang, Son of the Republic, Look and learn. As

(27:46):
the voice ceased, the shadowy Angel, for the last time
dipped water from the ocean and sprinkled it upon American. Instantly,
the dark cloud rolled back, together with the armies it
had brought, leaving the inhabitants of the land victorious. Then

(28:07):
once more I beheld the villages, towns, and cities springing
up where I had seen them before. While the bright Angel,
planting the azure standard he had brought in the midst
of them, cried with a loud voice, while the stars
remain and the heavens sin down, do upon the earth,

(28:28):
so long shall the Union laws. And taking from his
brow the crown, on which was blazoned the word Union,
he placed it upon the standard, while the people kneeling down,
said all men, Well, first of all, I just want

(28:49):
to say, after that long little reading, it is interesting,
like we said in the notes before, kind of almost
like a Christmas carol, but like set in the American Revolution.
If you'll also notice a biblical similarity. Moses was apparently
when he was shown the burning bush. What he was
shown was the creation of all was essentially Genesis was

(29:12):
the creation of everything. And so in a way, it's
kind of doing almost like a Moses thing with George
Washington here too, which is probably I would assume, just
a reflection of the time when the Bible was just
part of it's natural, whether we know it or not.
Lay our allegories and our legends onto modern things to

(29:35):
help make sense of them. Now that granted this was
pre Christmas Carol, of course, but obviously the Moses thing
I think even more so, maybe we can kind of
see the pattern of which laid on top of it.
But Gage, what do you think of that? That was
quite the vision that they say, oh, Georgie had.

Speaker 1 (29:53):
Well, it definitely does make sense the comparison to Moses,
for sure. Not really sure what to make of that.
I wonder what that vision really is tied to, If anything, you.

Speaker 2 (30:07):
Would have to imagine. I think the most obvious one
is it's supposedly predicting the American Civil War that occurred.

Speaker 1 (30:15):
To me, yeah, it reminded me, especially with the European
invasion kind of thing, more of the Revolutionary War. But
that had already happened, right, It almost seems like it
could have been. This is a kind of fear that
Washington had, Yes, I mean, he had to feel the
weight of responsibility as the president of the country, the

(30:36):
very first president. That's got to be quite a burden.
That is a fear that I'm sure he would have
had at this nation that he is responsible for could
be taken over, and I obviously had good reason to
think that that was possible.

Speaker 2 (30:50):
And you know, it wasn't too long later. I think
I could be wrong, but I want to say it
was the War of eighteen twelve when the British actually
did burn down the White House, like in everything, which
would have been a pretty monumental blow, you know, to
just the morale of the country. Right, So maybe there's
a little bit of that in there, you know, who knows,

(31:12):
but certainly, as you can imagine if this was actually
said by him, Yeah, there's I'm sure always a sense
of anxiety one, oh my god, you know, please let
us win this. And at the same time, even if
we do, then what happens.

Speaker 1 (31:28):
Right, that doesn't necessarily mean it's over exactly, you know,
it's never over. There's always another threat to especially the
further back you go.

Speaker 2 (31:37):
Yeah, friends, do you chompers resemble a pile of war
torn fence posts? Then by George get the same smile
that led a revolution. It's Washington's White News, America's first
prefitted wooden dentures hand whittled from the cherry tree. He
chopped down guarantee to click clack and man the room,

(32:00):
or your money back. Washington's whiteness. When you want a
smile that says, I crossed the Delaware and didn't floss once. Well,
after all that, the ghostly newsreel that was being shown
to Washington apparently faded. Chaos, the flames, the shadowy angels,

(32:22):
all melting away into the mist. Washington blinked, and there
before him stood that same celestial figure, the Angel, But
this time though it had stepped closer, and with the
kind of dramatic gravitas meant to echo through the centuries,
the entity uttered, Son of the Republic, what you have

(32:46):
seen is thus interpreted. Three great perils.

Speaker 3 (32:50):
Will come upon the Republic. The most fearful is the third.
But in this greatest conflict, the whole world united shall
not prevail against her. Let every child of the Republic
learn to live for his gold, his land, and the Union.

Speaker 2 (33:13):
And with that poof the entity was gone, like a
puff of cannon smoke on the cold wind. And there
was George Washington, left alone in the woods, his heart pounding,
probably trying to figure out if he had just really
conversed with an angel. Maybe he needed to lay off
the homegrown tobacco He's wondering.

Speaker 1 (33:34):
Mmmm, that could have been.

Speaker 2 (33:35):
That may have been whoo, I know he liked to
grow himp.

Speaker 1 (33:39):
Was it wacky Tobacci?

Speaker 2 (33:40):
It might have been a little bit of a wacky Tobacci. Now,
of course, there are those who say this whole thing
is just an old timey hoax, a story cooked up
by a guy named Anthony Sherman years after the fact,
a tale tailor made to stir patriotic hearts and sell newspapers.
But others that it's real that the father of our

(34:02):
country didn't just lead men into battle, but that he
was chosen by forces from on high. Either way, one
thing is for certain. When the shadows grew long at
Valley Forge, something holding favor for the new country was watching.
Now here's the thing about Old George and his possible hallucination.

Speaker 3 (34:25):
The biggest thorn in the side of.

Speaker 2 (34:26):
This tale is that this supposed vision of destiny didn't
enter the public sphere until June of eighteen sixty one,
nearly a century after Washington would have had his rendezvous
in the woods with the angelic Stranger. The first known
appearance of the story came in the Philadelphia Inquirer, and

(34:48):
from there it made the Rounds to the Pittsfield Gazette,
the New Hampshire Sentinel, and even a Civil War era
Union morale magazine named The Soldier's Casket. And yes, that
was a real publication and not the name of an
Avid Brother's album. The accredited writer of this article was
a fella going by the name Wesley Bradshaw, a name that,

(35:13):
as it turns out, was a pen name. Bradshaw was
actually a suited him for one Charles Wesley Alexander, a
journalist who made a whole cottage industry out of writing
colorful tales starring American legends. It was an exercise meant
to boost morale for Union troops during the American Civil War.

(35:34):
It was a beautifully written wartime allegory, dressed in a
powdered wig and polished boots. But here's the twist. Something
funny happened along the way. This patriotic yarn grew legs,
as many great yarns do, and like a ghost story
carried from one campfire to the next, it became fossilized

(35:54):
as truth. Over decades of reprintings, pamphlets, and word of
mouth retellings. Line between myth and memory blurred until the
late tale of Washington's angelic vision found a home in
the mind of believers, from angels to little Green informants.
It's impossible to say how much of the tale is true.

(36:14):
In fact, trying to separate what might be and might
not be true at this point would be like trying
to get cream out of coffee once you've boarded in.
But that doesn't mean it's not worth remembering because it
is a story that has power. It taps into that
rich American vein of mysticism, destiny, and of divine intervention. Now, folks,

(36:37):
we all know George Washington went out with as much
drama as he lived. But here's the thing. His weirdest
moment might have come after his ticker finally gave out.
It was December seventeen ninety nine, and the father of
the Nation is laid up with a sore throat and
a nasty fever. And medicine at that time, of course,

(36:59):
being what it was, was less science and more like
medieval torture.

Speaker 1 (37:04):
We're gonna have to drain all the blood out of
your body and that should take care of it.

Speaker 2 (37:08):
And that's pretty much what they did. His doctors decided
to bleed him like a hog. At a winter solstice,
nearly five pints of blood were drained out of Washington
in the name of healing. Unsurprisingly, this did not heal him,
and it played a large role in killing him. But

(37:28):
here's where it starts to get really creepy. Washington had
one fear that loomed even larger than redcoats and royalists.
He was absolutely terrified of being buried alive. The man
might have survived battles and uprisings, but he didn't want
to be six feet under unless he was absolutely sure

(37:51):
he was out of the game. So before he passed,
he made a special request, do not bury me for
three days, leave the body out, watch and wait in
case I'm truly gone. Another biblical allegory there.

Speaker 1 (38:08):
Yeah, I'm with him on that. I mean, he just
unlocked a new fear for me, so definitely wait three
days for my body as well.

Speaker 2 (38:16):
Absolutely so, they honored his request and they put the
general on ice, literally keeping his body cold and preserved.
And here's where things take a turn straight into Gothic core.
Enter one. Doctor William Thornton, a physician, an architect, and
amateur resurrectionist, a friend of the Washington family. Thornton wasn't

(38:41):
just any doctor. In fact, he designed the US Capitol Building,
but he also had a few macabre hobbies. Doctor Thornton
showed up after Washington had been dead for some time,
but he still believed he could bring him back. He
believed that by warming Washington's body, giving him a transfusion

(39:04):
of lamb's blood, and stimulating the heart and lungs, he
could revive him from the dead. And yes, this is
actual historical record. Thornton allegedly pleaded with Martha Washington for
permission to perform the procedure, fully intending to electrocute America's
first president back to life like he was doctor Frankenstein. Thankfully,

(39:28):
it didn't happen, and Martha refused, and Washington was finally buried.
But the fact that this conversation even happened is wild.

Speaker 1 (39:38):
I wonder how old Washington was when he passed.

Speaker 2 (39:41):
That's a good question.

Speaker 1 (39:43):
He lived from seventeen thirty two to seventeen ninety nine,
so he was sixty seven, which back then. Yeah, given
the time period, that's pretty long life.

Speaker 2 (39:54):
Right, and you have to assume being president. I mean,
even though the doctors were still bleeding him. You'd have
to think that any practices they had that were good,
he probably got the best of them, you know, right,
So the best bleeding.

Speaker 1 (40:08):
The best bleeding available.

Speaker 2 (40:11):
The best Lamb's blood available. So here's William Thornton standing
in the icy hush of Mount Vernon looking at the
preserved corpse of George Washington. This was a man with
a medical bag and a dream, a founding father fanboy
with a plan. Thornton was absolutely convinced that he had
cracked the code to resurrection, so long as the body

(40:34):
was fresh and hadn't gone fully cold in the ground yet.
Lucky for him and maybe unlucky for everyone else, Washington's
body had been kept chilled, just as he asked. But
here is the elevator pitch Thornton gave to the grieving Martha.
Step one, warm up the body using blankets, get that

(40:55):
blood moving. Step two, inject lamb's blood directly into Washington's veins.
Why lamb well? In those days, lamb's blood was thought
to have restorative, pure, and even divine properties. Indeed, the
lamb and lamb's blood are often evoked in the Bible.
As we know, some believed it could restore vigor and vitality, or,

(41:18):
in Thornton's case, bring America's first president back from the dead.
Step three was to cut into Washington's throat, performing a tracheotomy,
and to start pumping his lungs full of air or
the set of bellows, like he was a busted up
fireplace in need of a good puffing to clear out
the dust and ash. Thornton was confident that these steps

(41:40):
would bring George Washington roaring back to life. Martha bless
Her heard out his pitch and then, with all the
resolve and restraint of a grieving widow who was also
trying not to slap the out of this dips doctor,
she simply said no. And thank god she did, because
just a mad in George Washington waking up after three

(42:02):
days of an ice box nap full of lamb's blood
in a tube in his throat, maybe a little confused
about why he's breathing like a church ord. Yes, Thornton
was denied his experiment and Washington was finally laid to
rest in the family vault. But the fact that this
was so close to happening is a testament to the time.

Speaker 1 (42:22):
Why did he think this would work. He was just like,
it seems like it will.

Speaker 2 (42:27):
I think it will. I think he probably had a
you know, a legiti medical license. But then also it
was just just a good old helping a mysticism and
spiritualism probably tossed in there.

Speaker 1 (42:38):
You know, Yeah, I mean the lambs blood.

Speaker 2 (42:41):
It just can't miss, can't miss, baby, can't miss at all.

Speaker 1 (42:48):
Tired of tyranny in your teacup, then try the tea
that Boston threw a party for. I'm a brute, Oh Gray.
Each bag is steeped in liberty, dried over hot coals
of rebellion, and the stored and barrels labeled definitely not
tea to confuse your enemies. It's the only tea brave
enough to taste like revenge. I'm a brood. It does.

(43:10):
Freedom tastes beta when it's slightly salty.

Speaker 2 (43:19):
These are the shadowy side stories of George Washington, the
tales not chiseled into marble or stitched into the textbooks,
stories that don't show up in presidential biographies or holiday parades,
but still linger like a specter amongst America's folklore. Because
while history remembers General Washington, the president and founding father.

(43:43):
It quietly forgets the man who supposedly met green skin
beings in glowing orbs. It glosses over the visitations by
spectral angels and their prophetic riddles. It almost never mentions
the moment a trusted family friends and nearly jump started
his dead body with Lamb's blood. Now, when it comes

(44:06):
to George Washington, folks, the man is practically a myth
wrapped in a petticoat and brass buttons. But even legends
leave behind shadows, and when it comes to ghost stories,
Old George is no exception. So it makes perfect sense
that some of the eeriest tales tied to him don't
come from the battlefields of the Revolution or the bitter

(44:28):
snows of Valley Forge, but from the very home he
cherished most Mount Vernon, a place I actually toured many
years ago. I went with my father. We actually walked
to the house, stood in the doorway of the room
where he died, all that stuff. It was pretty pretty incredible.
It's a sprawling estate perched on the banks of the

(44:51):
Potomac River. Mount Vernon is more than just a postcard
perfect estate. It's a place soaked in centuries of lore,
the walls of seen joy, death, war, peace, and maybe
something not of this world at all. Because over the years,
this stately mansion has played hosts to more than just
historians and tourists. It's also racked up a tidy number

(45:15):
of paranormal claims. Some say the general never truly left
his beloved home. Others say that whatever haunts Mount Vernon
might not be George Washington, but might just be something
drawn to his memory, feeding off of the gravity of
a man whose legacy reshaped a continent. Whatever the case,

(45:35):
ghost or guardian, Mount Vernon has stories to tell. As
the sun set on the seventeen hundreds in a new
century loomed, something strange was wafting through the parlor rooms
and seance circles of America. It's sextually something that's been
intertwined with a string of recent episodes we've done lately,

(45:57):
and that is spiritualism. Already then it was gripping the
public imagination like a velvet gloved hand from the beyond,
and ghost stories were no longer just fireside tales. They
were front page headlines. And wouldn't you know it, Old
George himself got roped into the spectral spotlight. You see.

(46:18):
During this fevered age of table wrapping and ectoplasm, stories
started to bubble up from Mount Vernon like fog, rolling
in off the Potomac. Tales that claimed the Father of
the Country hadn't exactly moved on to his great reward,
but instead lingered within the walls of his beloved home,

(46:38):
pacing the floorboards, brooding in silence, or appearing to the
occasional wide eyed guest who got more than they bargained for.
One particularly compelling story came from none other than Josiah
Quincy Jr. A well known Boston politician with a sharp
mind and a flare for drama. He recalled a tail

(46:59):
pass down from his father, a man who'd once visited
Mount Vernon and may have left with a ghostly souvenir.
What started as a genteel tour of a national treasure
quickly turned into something more. Now Quincy wasn't some two
bit medium with a crystal ball. No, this was a
man of social and political standing. So when people said

(47:22):
his father experienced something otherworldly in the hollowed halls of
Washington's estate, where people were inclined to believe him. Now
Josiah Quincy Junior was a man who came from a
prestigious pedigree. The Quincy bloodline practically bubbled with Boston blue blood.
His father and grandfather had both been mayors of the city,

(47:43):
and Josiah himself eventually would carry that torch from eighteen
forty five to eighteen forty nine. A staunch abolitionist and
a man of civic grit, Quincy had all the makings
of a hardened rationalist. In eighteen eighty three, decades after
after Quincy's death, a curious little tom hit the presses
titled Figures of the Past from the Leaves of Old Journals,

(48:08):
a work compiled from Quincy's own journals, diaries, and personal letters.
The book painted a rich tapestry of colonial life, national identity,
and yes, things that go bump in the night. Nestled
among the civic reflections and political ponderings was something a
little unexpected, an eerie recollection about his father's visit to

(48:31):
Mount Vernon, a trip that on the surface seemed as
wholesome as a field trip, but buried in the details
was the unmistakable fingerprint of the paranormal. Whatever happened that
day at Mount Vernon stuck with the elder Quincy, and
in passing the story down to his son, he unknowingly
set the stage for one of the eerier anecdotes about

(48:52):
our nation's first president. So let's rewind the real to
the early eighteen hundreds. Josiah Quincy, the third, a diplomat
scholar Harvard, had show in one of Massachusetts's finest political minds.
He's making his way down to Mount Vernon on official business.

(49:14):
At the time, the estate had passed into the hands
of Bushrod Washington. Old bush Rod was a nephew to
George and was serving as a Supreme Court justice at
the time. That's a hell of a resume, even by
early American standards, especially for a guy named bush Rod.
So there Quincy stood a sitting congressman walking the hallowed

(49:38):
grounds of Mount Vernon, shaking hands and trading formalities with
one of the most powerful men in the country. But
according to Josiah Quincy Jr. Tucked inside those stately proceedings
was something far more spectral. You see, Quincy's father didn't
just leave Mount Vernon with a handshake and some dusty
Federalist gossip. He left with a store and a strange

(50:01):
one at that. Whatever Quincy the Third experience during his
visit with Bushrod Washington, it had an edge to it,
a ghostly detail that lingered in the family like a
rumor too spooky to shake. So it's spring of eighteen
oh six and Josiah Quincy the Third pulls up to
Mount Vernon, ready to talk biz with old bush Rod.

(50:24):
The trees are in bloom, and the Potomac is rolling
lazily and quiet, and the home of the nation's first
press stands tall and silent, still echoing with the memory
of his greatness. But that night, after dinner was cleared
and the voices it hushed, something else was waiting to
join the conversation. Now, Quincy Junior, that's the Sun, admits

(50:49):
up front that he wasn't there to see with his
own eyes what his father claimed to have happened. But
he's quick to tell us that this was a story
so burned into the family memory, so frequently repeated around
the Quincy hearth that it became part of the household gospel,
the only ghost story his father ever told. So what

(51:11):
did Papa Quincy see that night at Mount Vernon? What
encounter left this man of logic and law and learning,
telling the same ghost story for decades. As it goes,
Quincy was standing alone in the Washington bedchamber, the room
where the father of his country breathed his last And

(51:31):
as the fire crackled low and the shadows started to stretch,
Quincy's mind started to race. He wondered, am I worthy?
Because this wasn't just any ghost. This was Old George
Washington's ghost. The room wasn't haunted the way other rooms
are haunted. It was honored. And Quincy, for all his

(51:54):
accomplishments and titles and training, found himself lying in the
bed of a dead commander and wondering if tonight he
might meet America's greatest ghost. Well, according to Quincy Junior,
the encounter happened all right. His father, Josiah Quincy, the
third distinguished Statesman, a Harvard Man and serious thinker, didn't

(52:15):
just imagine it. He saw Washington. But when it comes
to the juicy details, Quincy Junior slams on the brakes.
He says, quote, this is all I have to say
about it, like he's trying to keep a polite lid
on the fact that the father of the country appeared
to his daddy in the middle of the night, and

(52:35):
it makes you wonder. It's like, why even tempt the
story if you're not going to give the deats? Yeah,
you know, like, ah, it's like giving people fomo over here.
And then there's the absolute kicker. If he did share more,
he'd have to consult a quote expert in cerebral illusion.
That my friend is a nineteenth century way of saying. Quote.

(52:58):
If I talk about this in further, you're gonna think
we've gone straight off the rails. But then comes the
part that really makes you wonder. Quincy Junior said his
dad was absolutely certain about what he saw, that it
was not a dream, and it wasn't nerves or bad mutton.
He believed that something he called quote brain action could

(53:21):
be set up in us by friends no longer in
the flesh, and that his life had been guided by
these forces. So think about that. Josiah Quincy IID, a
man who sat in Congress ran Harvard shaped the very
bedrock of early America, believed his life was steered at
times by the ghosts of the ones he loved and lost.

(53:44):
He believed George Washington visited him in the night. It's
not just a ghost story for him. It's a reminder
that sometimes the people who shaped the world are still
listening for voices from beyond it. Quincy Junior may pretend
he doesn't want to dish out more ghostly gossip, but
his pen clearly had other plans. The way he shifts,

(54:06):
oh so casually, from quote I shan't say more to
a quiet stroll into the actual tomb of George Washington.
Well that's Victorian for buckle up, bitch. We find ourselves
standing next to Quincy the Third, just outside Washington's final
resting place, and bush Rod Washington, the founding father's nephew

(54:27):
and Supreme Court justice, beckons Quincy to enter. Quincy Junior
makes a point to note that letting guests wander into
a dead president's tomb wasn't considered bizarre back then, But
who knows for sure. But here's where the ghost story
grows a second head. Quincy Junior gives us this haunting

(54:47):
little detail. The velvet that had once adorned Washington's coffin
was in tatters, not from time, but from the hands
of relic hunters literal grave robbers of patriotism, scraping off
the scraps from the father of the country, like they
were in some gift shop, which Mount Vernon does have

(55:10):
a very nice gift shop, I will say, And Quincy
doesn't even need to say. Washington's ghost was pissed because
you can feel it. And then bam, he hits us
with Ralph Waldo Emerson's words like a moral sledgehammer, saying
care not to strip the dead of his sad ornament.

(55:30):
You see the implication that George Washington's spirit wandered Mount Vernon,
not out of unfinished business or national duty, but because
people couldn't stop picking out his corpse like moths to
a sacred flame. To Quincy Junior, the shredded cough in
Drapery wasn't just wrong, it was an indictment. A relic.
Hunter's greed reduced the aura of greatness to quote miserable

(55:53):
shreds and patches. No wonder Washington might have returned. Maybe
he wasn't trying to guide the living. Maybe he was
just trying to reclaim his dignity. The message was clear,
you don't desecrate the memory of the dead and walk
away untouched, because it's one thing to steal from a
man it's another thing to steal from the former world

(56:16):
leader like George Washington, whether he liked it or not.
Washington had crossed into the realm of American legend long
before his final breath, and Josiah Quincy the Third may
have survived his ghostly encounter, but not all spirits are
so gracious. So before we move on, it kind of

(56:38):
reminds me almost like King tutt you know, the curse
of King tutan Common's tomb, the whole idea of you know,
obviously grave robbing no matter what is bad, but when
you're robbing the grave of someone of importance, it's gonna
go down. Which I gotta say, what are blue balls
of a story? Quincy always being like my dad saw him,
but he won't say anything. I say anything. Oh but

(57:02):
the creepiness of Mount Vernon, folks, it doesn't stop there.
Back in the early years of the Mount Vernon's Ladies' Association,
Hello ladies, those brave corseted gals who were the guardians
of American heritage. They laid their very hands down in
the mansion itself, and whether they knew it or not,

(57:22):
those ladies weren't just caretakers of a legacy. They were
overnight guests in a very patriotic, haunted house. The following
is a direct report about the ladies involvement that was
related to the New York World newspaper in eighteen ninety.
Of course, the most interesting of all the bedrooms is

(57:43):
the one belonging to the immortal George and in which
he died in It is the original Thor Poster bed
whereon Washington passed his last moments. This historic chamber is
haunted of that there would seem to be little doubt.
Many people within recent years have slept in it, and
they declare that they were awed by the viewless presence

(58:06):
of the nation's first president. They deny earnestly that the
notion is based on imagination. Few of these temporary occupants
have been able to get any sleep, obviously, it is
one thing to see a ghost, and quite another thing
to feel one to be aware of the nearness of
a strange and brooding specter. They all agree that Washington

(58:27):
visits his chamber in the still watches of the night.
Missus William Beale and a friend of hers spent a
night at Mount Vernon at their own requests. They were
permitted to occupy Washington's bedroom. In the middle of the night,
they were awakened by the sputtering of their candle. They
had lighted once surreptitiously and were burning it in the

(58:49):
middle of a basin of water. It went out with
a noise, and they began to feel alarmed. Miss Beale
said to her friend, you are on the side of
the bed where Washington died. The other replied, you know,
I'm not. He died on your side. Finally they decided
that the question was doubtful, and there was no more

(59:09):
sleep for them that night. They got up, dressed themselves,
and sat around until morning, scared by every little squeak
of the windows, and at one moment were sure they'd
heard Washington's sword clank distinctly in the corner. Here we go.
Now we're getting a little more into some real tails.
Here a couple of goals spending the night in old

(59:33):
Washington's bed might have been Martha, honestly.

Speaker 1 (59:36):
Yeah, I mean, she'd probably be conceivably more upset than George.

Speaker 2 (59:41):
Yeah that a couple of ladies are a couple of
painted horse or sleeping in Washington's bed. Oh, and it
ain't just George walking the halls of Mount Vernet. Get this,
in the nineteen eighties, shoulder pads are in synth floods
the airwaves, and someone's working their shift as an interpreter

(01:00:02):
at Mount Vernon, just minding their own business in the
central passage, when out of nowhere she sees her, a
woman in full eighteenth century garb, gracefully descending the staircase.
She's not empty handed, no, no, she's clutching a large

(01:00:23):
punch bowl brimming with a grand floral arrangement. No explanation
or introduction, and with no time to chat, just a
silent spectral hostess bringing the centerpiece to the party. And
then poof, she vanishes at the foot of the stairs,

(01:00:43):
with no sound and no chill in the air. It
leaves us wondering was she a former housekeeper, a guest
reliving some long ago celebration, or maybe just one very
committed ghost decorator making sure Mount Vernon stays camera ready
even in the afterlife. All right, because you gotta think,

(01:01:04):
there's servants, there's people that work directly for Mary, or
people that worked in the kitchens and all that stuff.
You gotta think. And of course, as we know, Washington
also owned slaves, So I mean you gotta think that
like daily life at Mount Vernon was bustling with many people.
Another tale concerns a warm spring or summer day in

(01:01:24):
Mount Vernon in the nineteen eighties. The crowds of tourists
and staff are swarming like cicadas in a heat wave.
One of the interpreters is holding the line and the
central passage, doing her best to maintain order and ambience
when she hears something behind her, a sound like movement
or maybe even a voice. At first, she thinks, ah,

(01:01:46):
some kids snuck under the ropes again, classic field trip shenanigans.
So she steps into the little parlor to wrangle these
pesky rascals back. Except surprise, it's not a rowdy middle schooler,
she finds. No, it's an older gentleman, refined and commanding,
dawning a late nineteenth century to early twentieth century look

(01:02:10):
like it's never gone out of style, rolled up sleeves,
sleeve garters, and a thick mustache. And boy is he
not happy. With eyes blazing and a voice booming like
a man who still thinks he owns the place, he bellows,
what the hell is going on here? Referring, of course,

(01:02:30):
to the school group raising hell out in the hallway
like its recess in limbo. The interpreter, stunned but somehow composed,
tells him she's trying to settle them down. Then, just
like that, he vanishes, and it isn't until later that
the woman sees a portrait and realizes that man was

(01:02:53):
none other than Colonel Harrison Howell Dodge, a longtime director
of Mount Vernon who ran the estate for half a
century until his death in the nineteen thirties. Apparently, the
man still thinks he runs the place, still show it
up to check on the state of the home, still
grumbling about the riff raff, and putting away his horse.

(01:03:16):
According to a head guard on the Mountain Vernon beat
during the nineteen eighties and nineties, this wasn't just a
stray bump in the night or a once in a
blue moon inctent of weirdness. This haunting was like clockwork,
repeated and reliable, most likely much of it being residual haunting,

(01:03:36):
like a ghostly punch card being time stamped from the
other side. This particular sighting would start in the stable,
an alarm tripped with no one in sight. Then just
enough time passed, exactly the amount of time it would
take to unsaddle a tired steed, stow the tack, give

(01:03:57):
the horse a pat, and make the stroll up to
the big house. That is when the Washington bedchamber alarm
would go off. Security would swoop in, fully expecting someone
to be there, and find absolutely nothing. No open doors,
no human footprints, just empty silence. And what did the

(01:04:18):
guards think. Well, one of them was quoted saying, the
general's just coming home. He would stable his horse and
check the grounds, and now he was turning in for
the night, right back in the room where he died.
It wasn't a haunting in the typical sense, no screams
or flying books, no sudden chills. It was quiet but consistent.

(01:04:40):
Like George Washington himself was still keeping a schedule, sticking
to duty and moving through his home as if the
eighteenth century never ended. There's something about it that feels
deeply dignified. Even in death. The man stays punctual. And
if Mount Vernon really is haunted, it's not by a
restless It's by a gentleman with boots on, gloves off,

(01:05:03):
and just enough time to brush down his horse before
turning in. That I thought was interesting, Like we said, it's,
you know, the idea we've discussed many times, the idea
of residual hauntings and what they are. And it's interesting
that you could almost time it when the alarm would
go off in the stables to when the alarm would
go off in Washington's room. Whether it was Washington or not,

(01:05:26):
it would certainly appear that it was some sort of
specter making that trip and then going to bed at night.
I mean, that's pretty impressive, really well. Moving on to
the year twenty twelve and Mount Vernon was unsettlingly quiet.
The candlelight tours were done for the night, and the
guests were all long gone. The halls were empty, and

(01:05:48):
the only soul left inside the mansion was a lone
member of the security department, locked in and making the
final rounds. They double checked the alarms and locks like
it was just another ordinary night. Only it wasn't, because
as he stepped into the study, the place where George
Washington spent his final hours, he heard something. Something was

(01:06:12):
making a noise upstairs. It was a sound like a
heavy set of keys clanking, swinging and moving across the
floorboards of the Washington bedchamber directly overhead. And this wasn't random.
It wasn't like a loose screw rattling in events or

(01:06:32):
the woods settling. No, this was the steady footfall of
someone walking. So this poor guy is alone in that house,
just him in the dark and the memory of history
clinging to the wallpaper. He pauses to listen, and then
he moves towards the backstairs, every step creaking under his boots.

(01:06:55):
But just as he reaches the bottom, silence the key stop.
Whoever or whatever was up there had heard him coming.
And here's the kicker. According to historical records, Washington really
did carry a large, clinking ring of keys like a
Brooklyn hipster. It was part of his routine and his

(01:07:17):
daily ritual, and after his death, his secretary to Bias
Lear famously removed the keys from the General's body and
passed them to his manservant, Christopher Shields. So whose footprints
echoed across the ceiling that night? Was it George himself
doing one last round making sure his a state was secure?

(01:07:38):
Or was it Lear? Was it Shields? Or was it
simply the past, still moving and still alive in that
house now. This next story comes from one employee at
Mount Vernon who claimed to have encountered something otherworldly while
employed at Washington's home. They said, quote, I've worked at

(01:08:02):
Mount Vernon on and off since two thousand and four.
I most recently returned in January twenty seventeen. The estate
was a buzz with the latest spooky story. On December fifteenth,
twenty sixteen, some strange sounds were heard coming from the
third floor, and there had been reports of the temperature
dropping by twenty degrees. When the tale was shared with me,

(01:08:25):
I was determined to see if it would happen again.
On December fourteenth, the anniversary of the General's death, I
was on the third floor waiting for some haunting, but
nothing happened. However, when I returned the next night, the
vibe in the area had changed. Upon looking into the
southwest bed chamber, I noticed an electric candle was on.

(01:08:49):
That's strange. I thought it was dark last night. Had
the collections team come and turned it on? Not likely?
The third floor isn't open to the public. Then it
hit me. George Washington died on December fourteenth, seventeen ninety nine.
And the next day Martha Washington shut up the bedroom

(01:09:12):
they shared and moved into the southwest bedchamber. Apparently she's
still marking that sad day. Very interesting, very interesting. And finally, folks,
there's the Mount Vernon Monster. In nineteen seventy nine, residents

(01:09:32):
who lived in the area of Mount Vernon were terrorized
nightly for months. For a good chunk of seventy nine,
something or someone was screaming in the woods just a
stone's throw from George Washington's estate. And we don't mean
your average owl call kind of scream. We're talking someone
being strangled in the shower levels of panic. The Mount

(01:09:56):
Vernon Monster, as it's come to be known, turned the
sleepy Collieneal Woods into a full blown X Files episode.
Police helicopters circled overhead with their spotlights, cutting through the
branches looking for life. Officers crouched low in the brush,
their radios crackling, and the tension in the air thick
enough to chew on all for a sound that echoed

(01:10:19):
through the trees like a bad omen and just as elusive.
And what were the locals saying? Oh? Everything from quote
a mouse with an amplifier to the ghost of George
Washington's pigs. Yes, that was actually a real theory some
folks held. One woman said she saw creature six feet
tall walking upright in her backyard. Kids armed with portable

(01:10:44):
cassette recorders tried to trap the whaling on tape, but
even the sharpest ears and best boots in Fairfax County
couldn't catch the beast. The Mount Vernon's Ladies Association even
had to formally address it in their council minutes. That's right,
among the dutiful notes about a state upkeeping historical preservation

(01:11:05):
set a record of an entity that may or may
not have been George Foot himself, howling through the night
like the Revolution had never ended. So was it a prank?
Was it an owl with the lungs of a pipe organ,
a hoax, was just enough edge to take roots in
the public imagination? Or was it the real deal? Because

(01:11:28):
here's the thing. The Mount Vernon monster was never caught,
never identified, and never explained away as if it didn't
want to be, which means it might still be out
there waiting, watching and still screaming. And if you're ever
out that way, maybe you'll hear it too. Just make sure,

(01:11:49):
your tape recorder's rolling, and folks, that is weird. Washington
and the haunting of Mount Vernon whoo man, I'll tell you,
I love a good historical haunting mixed in there. But yeah,

(01:12:13):
tons of biblical allegories throughout the whole thing, which I
thought was kind of interesting.

Speaker 1 (01:12:19):
Definitely, that seems to be a very common factor among
all these and these are people of a totally different
time and that was probably a huge part of their identity.
Oh yeah, I mean that was pretty pervasive.

Speaker 2 (01:12:31):
I'm sure.

Speaker 1 (01:12:32):
So it makes sense that some of these stories, especially
the things that were described about Washington's vision and things,
had those kind of parallels. You know, that could be
a product of their minds of the time, or it
could speak to something real exactly.

Speaker 2 (01:12:49):
And there's, like we said, there's so many things it
could be, because there's so many people that came and
went from that place, like the guy who used to
run the place and Hill like the twenties, that guy.
There's Martha, of course, there's any of their children. There's
personal servants, there's slaves, there's everything that it could be, visitors,

(01:13:10):
i mean, dignitaries, all these things that it could be
when you're talking about a place like Mount Vernon. But
I'll tell you what, Gauge. I got a list of
names that might as well be written on the Declaration
of Independence. Oh yeah, who's that? The names of our
top tier Patreon subscribers, of course, The dream James Watkins,
the Finish Face, Via Lungphus, the Madman, Marcus Hall, the Tenacius,

(01:13:31):
Teresa Hackworth, the Heartbreak Kid, Chris Hackworth, Theoso Swave, Sean Richardson,
the Notorious Nicholas Barker, the Terrifying Taylor lash Met, the
Count of Cool, Cameron corlis At, the Archduke of Attitude,
Adam Archer, the Sinister Sam Kiker, the Nightmare of New Zealand, Noehline, Viavili,
the Loathsome Johnny Love, the carnivorous Kevin Bogey, the Killer
Stud Karl Stab the fire Starter, Heather Carter, the conquer
Christopher Damian Demris, the awfully Awesome Annie, the Murderous Maggie Leech,

(01:13:54):
the ser of Sexy, Sam Hackworth, the Evil Elizabeth Riley,
Lauren hell Fire, Hernandez Lopez, the Laura maynerd, the Vicious
Karen van Vier in the Archie Nemesis, Aaron Bird, the
sadistic Sergio Castillo, the Rapscallion, Ryan Crumb, the Beast, Benjamin Whang,
the devilish Chris du Sett, the Psycho Sam the Electric
Emily Jong, the ghoulish Girt Hankum, the Renegade, Corey Ramos,
the Crazed Carlos, the Antagonist, Andrew Park, the Monstrous Mikaela Sure,

(01:14:17):
the Witchy Wonder, JP Weimer, the Freiki, Ben Forsyth, the
Barbaric Andrew Berry, the Mysterious Marcella, the Hillacious Kale Hoffman,
and Pug Blorb the Poulter Guys. Oh yes, yes, yes, folks.
If you want to let freedom ring just like those folks,
head on over to patreon dot com slash creep Street
podcast for all sorts of goodies. Gauge. What do you

(01:14:40):
got in the works? You working on anything?

Speaker 1 (01:14:43):
Yeah, I've got a new album called Afterimage. It'll be
out by the time you hear this episode. It's like
a low fi house album. If you're a big fan
of ed M, if you're a big fan of house
music or even just kind of pop club music, definitely
go check that out at vapor Verse on YouTube, Spotify,
and Apple Music.

Speaker 2 (01:15:02):
And I got to say your latest album, Alien Weather
Channel is so good. Every track on it is so good. Folks,
if you're listening here in the United States, we wish
you was safe and the happy fourth of July. Be
safe out there, have fun. Folks who are listening internationally,
you have just as much fun. Just to have some fun.

Speaker 1 (01:15:22):
Just celebrate that it's Friday.

Speaker 2 (01:15:24):
Yeah, celebrate that it's Friday. Gosh, dang it, you know
what I mean. There's never a reason not to celebrate,
especially when you got a new episode of Creep Street
to listen to. We love you, and we thank you
so much for all of your support. Our Instagram's been
boosting back up. We've been running ads there. It's really
popping and as always, it's popping off in Latin America,

(01:15:46):
the Philippines, South Africa, which has always been some of
our outside of the United States, some of our biggest locales.
So we love you, guys, and we're so happy to
welcome our new listeners. So reach out to us with
any personal stories you have. We would love to do
a listener Stories episode here soon. But either way, we
love you, guys, and we thank you for the support.

(01:16:07):
Citizens of the Melky Way. My name is Dylan.

Speaker 1 (01:16:09):
Hackworth, and I'm Gage Hurley.

Speaker 2 (01:16:11):
Good night and goodbye, staggering across the frozen wastelands, living
off bark and baynet rations, then poy yourself a glass
of General's Tonic, the only cure of brood from the
powdered wig, dust, muskets and sheer hatred for monarchy.

Speaker 1 (01:16:32):
My feet fell off, my teeth would, and I haven't
seen a vegetable since seventeen seventy six. But I've still
got the

Speaker 2 (01:16:40):
Pet General's Tonic, because when liberty calls, you better not
be nappy,

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Ep250 - Washington Weirdness & The Haunting Of Mount Vernon

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.css-14f5ked{margin:0;word-break:break-word;display:-webkit-box;-webkit-box-orient:vertical;box-orient:vertical;-webkit-line-clamp:2;overflow:hidden;}Ep250 - Washington Weirdness & The Haunting Of Mount Vernon