Episode Transcript
[00:00:00] Foreign I'm Ben and welcome to the show where you and I gather around this campfire to hear some of our fellow campers scariest experiences. Whether you're a new or returning camper, I'm happy to have you. We were recently given a story, room 209, that to me read more like a folk tale, and for that reason I told it as one.
[00:00:29] But that story has found its way, creeping into my bones and got me exploring more and more road trip folktales, pondering questions like how many towns do we drive past, stopping for just a second?
[00:00:45] So tonight we will hear again a story I've put together for you. A story about shared experiences across time and space, about those towns we drive past on our road trips. Perhaps we stop for just a second to breathe the air of that liminal space.
[00:01:06] But this story begs the question, what if you could never find that town again? Or what if someone else found it somewhere else? Now, without further ado, do you want to hear Ghost Story?
[00:01:23] There's a town that no longer exists. A town that no one remembers anymore. Anyone who's been there has vague feelings about it that lay somewhere between memories and fever dreams. It's not a town that was torn down or left by its inhabitants, but it's a ghost town nonetheless. There's only one way to find it by accident. Many claim they found it along Route 66. Others claim it was nestled somewhere deep in Appalachia. While no one can agree exactly where this town is or if they ever really found it at all, there is one key detail across all of the encounters.
[00:02:04] No matter the time of year or geographic location, anyone who has found this town says the exact same thing.
[00:02:12] When you wander into the cool retro diner, you'll find the mayor, where he always invites you to stay for Founders Day, which is always conveniently the next day. There are no reports anywhere, no throwaway Reddit posts or obscure message board statements about anyone ever staying for Founders Day. Although there are many posts asking for the location of the town, many that read something just like this.
[00:02:39] I know it's not a lot to go on, but I'm hoping someone can help us find out where this town was. We were driving through Missouri somewhere just east of Springfield. It was the middle of the night and we needed gas. We stopped in this beautiful, quaint little town that had an oddly New Englandish charm for this part of the country. We stopped for gas and a bite to eat at this incredible retro diner. There were flyers everywhere for the Founders Day Festival. For some insane reason, the Mayor was in there in the middle of the night eating a piece of apple pie. Even invited us to stay for Founders Day.
[00:03:17] But anyways, we are traveling back that way again this fall and I thought I would love to stop there again, but for the life of me I cannot remember the name of the town and all the towns off of the interstate just don't quite look like the one we stopped in. I'm hoping with such a unique characteristic someone could help me find what I'm looking for, but these posts often garner more questions than answers. The top comment is inevitably a variation of the following this is going to sound crazy, but I swear I found this exact town somewhere in upstate New York. The details about the diner and the mayor eating apple pie are just too coincidental. You said this was in Missouri?
[00:03:59] While everyone is trying to get more information on this town to either go back or fill in some gaps on a road trip, there's one question that seems to be off limits. One question perhaps everyone is too afraid to ask. What happens when you stay for Founders Day? It seems that we finally have an answer because Caleb did just that. It was early September and I was driving from Chicago to visit my cousin in Savannah. I don't remember the route I was taking. Honestly, I was just trying to make good time, avoid tolls, and get off the interstate from time to time on one of those interstate detours somewhere in the Smokies, I think the GPS lost signal. I figured I'd just keep driving until it came back on. I could see lights of a town glooming over the next hill. The town sign was immaculately kept, made entirely of wood and lit up so bright you couldn't miss.
[00:04:57] Looked more like something you'd see in a Hallmark movie than out here in the sticks carved intricately into the wood. Welcome to Belhaven. As I drove into town, I remember thinking it was weird that I've never heard of this place. It just looked too perfect.
[00:05:14] I knew that tourism had to be their whole shtick, right? No towns care more about the small little details than tourist towns. Thinking about it now, the welcome sign even had what looked like gold trim along the edges. This place had to be a tourist town. It looked almost like a movie set.
[00:05:32] Tree lined streets, warm orange lights, a little downtown square with a gazebo that looked like it was raiding for the resident equivalent of Lorelei Gilmore to come brooding over with a cup of coffee in hand. The kind of place that made you feel more like you were walking through a memory, an exhibit, rather than a place where people actually lived. I pulled into a diner that looked to be straight out of the 1950s, with big glass windows, a checkerboard floor, and a glowing neon sign that just said eats. I figured it'd be good to grab a cup of coffee, stretch my legs for a while before finishing the trip. But inside the diner is where I met the mayor. He was sitting in the last booth on the right, just beneath an old black and white photo of the town square with what looked like a giant smudge or marker streak in the middle. There was a bright red plaque underneath that just read Inaugural Founders Day.
[00:06:28] He was wearing a suit, not a modern one. It was a sharp navy jacket, a little too boxy in the shoulders, a bright red tie and a sash, burgundy with gold embroidery, reading Founder across his chest. At first I thought it was a costume, perhaps part of the town's whole vibe. He looked right at me as I walked in and smiled like he'd been waiting.
[00:06:55] Welcome to Belhaven. You came at the perfect time, he said to me. I smiled back, giving a polite nod. Trying not to be rude. I sat down on a few stools down the counter. The waitress brought me a cup of coffee without asking what I wanted, just set it down with a wink and said, first cup's on us. Founders Day hospitality. I didn't ask what she meant. I should have, but instead I looked around.
[00:07:23] Flyers were taped to nearly every surface, the windows by the register, even tacked on to the edge of the napkin holder next to me, all of them saying the same thing.
[00:07:35] Founders Day tomorrow. Parade at sunrise. Don't miss it. The font was odd. It looked printed, but there was a shimmer to it, like it was etched into the paper.
[00:07:47] The mayor, or the founder, I guess, finished his piece, stood, and walked over to me. I remember the sound his shoes made on the tile, like someone wearing their finest church shoes. Hollow echoey. Burgess Hodge, he said before I turned around.
[00:08:06] Caleb. Nice to meet you, Caleb. You should stay.
[00:08:11] I laughed, not really knowing what else to do. It's special what we do here.
[00:08:17] Most folks don't find us till they need to.
[00:08:21] That stuck with me until they need to. I didn't know that I needed anything right now. I guess I could just use a place where my whole life didn't feel like it was falling apart.
[00:08:32] I don't know. I'm just passing through town to get to my cousins in Savannah. I don't have any extra cash. No worries. There's an inn just up the street that won't charge you if I tell him not to. Besides, like I said, tomorrow is a big celebration. We'll be done by noon. Don't worry. I reluctantly agreed. The inn was called the Hearth. It was across the street from the town square, nestled between a bookshop and a florist. The woman at the desk, gray hair pulled back tight, eyes a little too wide, handed me a brass key before I said anything. We've been expecting you.
[00:09:10] Room 3A.
[00:09:12] Okay? I wanted to laugh, but this all just seemed so absurd. I grabbed the key and walked to the room. The room was cozy, sure, but weirdly untouched. The furniture looked like it had been staged decades ago. No signs of wear. No dust either. The wallpaper, a deep burgundy with gold vines curling up from the baseboards, was perfectly aligned. Not a single seam was showing. I should have left. I shouldn't have stayed. But I did. I went for a walk. The whole town was glowing. Strings of amber lights draped across rooftops, candles in every window, and the air, I swear, just smelled like cinnamon and dry leaves. It was the most idyllic version of fall I could imagine, but no one else was out, not a single person. After all, it was the middle of the night. It was like I was walking through a painting, a memory.
[00:10:16] At some point I heard music. Faint. A waltz, I think, coming from the gazebo in the square. As I got closer, I saw shadows, people dancing. Though when I looked closer they weren't solid, just outlined patches of darkness in the shape of a couple swaying in time with music that didn't seem to come from anywhere at all. I stood at the edge of the square and watched. And then, all at once, the shadow stopped dancing. Every shadow froze, turning to face me. No eyes, no mouths, just shapes. The music stopped and a cold breeze blew in. I walked backwards into the inn, the old woman no longer at the front desk. I ran up to my room, locked the door, shut the curtains, and tried to sleep. But it didn't work.
[00:11:14] Where were these bells coming from? It was 3:15 in the morning.
[00:11:19] I don't remember seeing a church in town, and these bells seemed more like groans.
[00:11:26] I looked out the window.
[00:11:28] People were walking toward the town square, slowly. A whole lot of them. That must be the whole town. Hundreds, it felt like. Some in weird robes, some in what looked like old colonial clothes, others in plain modern outfits like mine. Their faces were all blank. Some had hoods pulled tight. Others wore masks, porcelain, with no features at all. But they all walked in silence. I don't know why I followed. Curiosity, maybe, or something else. When I got to the square, the mayor was already there, standing at the base of the gazebo, arms outstretched, the sash still across his chest.
[00:12:12] But this time something else was there too. Some sort of figure. It didn't look human. It had a body, sure, but it was stretched too thin, too tall, skin like old birch bark, pale and cracking. Its face was sunken, nose gone, mouth split wide like it had been carved the dull blade. Its eyes were too far apart and didn't pull blink. Rather, it watched.
[00:12:43] One by one, the townspeople stepped forward and whispered something to the mayor. He whispered back. And then. Well, this is the part I still can't explain.
[00:12:55] They disappeared. Not like sleight of hand, like they were never there. Each one just blinked out of existence. No one reacted. Except for me. I turned to leave and the crowd parted for me, as if they knew I'd try to run.
[00:13:12] The mayor raised one hand and said, it's time.
[00:13:17] I shook my head, took a step back. He spoke again.
[00:13:22] Caleb?
[00:13:23] My throat was raw by the time I got to my car. I was screaming the whole way. I remember fumbling for my keys, and I remember the dashboard powered, lights not quite working, the engine finally turning over on the third try.
[00:13:37] I peeled out of town. Didn't stop. Didn't sleep. When the sun finally rose, I was on some back road in South Carolina. I pulled over to check the map to see where I had been, but there was nothing. No Belle Haven. Not on the gps, not on Google. Nothing. That was three years ago. Every year around early September, I get the same feeling. Like someone's behind me, just out of view, waiting.
[00:14:05] I hear the bell sometimes in my dreams or when I'm driving.
[00:14:10] I've tried to go back. I've even drove the same route again. Last fall I left Chicago on the same day, hit every detour I could remember. But now Bellhaven. Only trees, forests, and silence in this feeling like I'm not supposed to go back looking for it.
[00:14:29] So if you're on the road and you see a town that looks too perfect to be real, with lanterns in the trees and flyers for a festival that's tomorrow. Don't stop. Don't get out of your car. And whatever you do, don't stay for Founders Day.
[00:14:46] Thank you for listening to my story. If it sounds familiar, like you've been there before, let me know. I have found that folktales like these are pervasive and you never know who might have experienced them. So let me know if you've been to Belhaven. I have no show announcements this week. If you'd like a shout out at the end of an episode or access to our show's monthly bonus episodes, head over to patreon.com do you want to hear Ghost Story?
[00:15:15] As always, I am just glad to have you all as campers on this journey. Please keep sharing the show with anyone you think might like these stories or someone you're just trying to scare. If you are enjoying the show, please leave a review. I would love to hear from you. Until next time.
