To the east of the town of Erie, in the small village of Wesleyville, there is an small and ancient valley through which a tiny stream flows. Rumored to be the last village site of the Eriez Indians, and often stated to be a place of mystery, few people have searched for this place and were disappointed when they could not find it.
 

Others have been scared off by the reports of a mysterious woman who lived in the area for many years, unseen but for a few reports here and there, whispered in fear. No one could say where she came from or why she lived in this particular area. People speculated that she was led there by evil and strange forces, while others said she was the widow of a foreigner who had once visited these lands many years before.

This story begins in the early 1800’s, as Erie continued its slow growth and importance along the south shore of Lake Erie. Superstition reigned through the day, as Christian souls abounded and explained the supernatural as being the “Devil’s work.” The dense woods around the town were still fearsome even in the daytime to some, and steadily avoided by all if possible at night. It was said that mysterious people and evil things lived in the forest, and many felt that this was true.

A shipwright who lived in Wesleyville scoffed at all the rumors and fears of his neighbors and friends. He laughingly explained to those who would listen that the hideous sounds heard were just ordinary creatures of the night, and that the glows sometimes seen in the forest were just the campfires of travelers. When told about the woman who supposed lived in the valley just outside of town along the creek bed, he again laughed and ridiculed those who spoke in whispered tones.
 

At the inn, where such stories were often told quietly, the man openly spoke that his friends were speaking nonsense, and that good Christians did not believe in such goings on. This went on for several weeks of daily visits to the tavern.

One night, a fellow worker was tired of the shipwright’s ridicule, and spoke openly about the mysterious woman of the woods.
 

“She is there, I tell you!” he said. “Just because you do not believe in such things does not mean that others don‘t. There must be some reason for the stories we have heard. Why don’t you go to the valley and see for yourself?”

The shipwright, a very large man, laughed and replied, “Why, if such an old woman exists, what match would she be for me? If I should find her, I shall knock her down to the ground before any evil or deadly magic could be made against me.”

The worker grunted loudly, and shook his head in disgust. “If you do not believe in her, then what is there to fear, indeed. Go and look for yourself if you dare.”

This was too good a challenge for the shipwright to ignore. He made a wager with all friends at the inn that he would find the valley and the woman and return totally unharmed. The others quickly took him up on his bet, and it was decided that the shipwright would leave at dusk the next evening to search out what he considered to be a total folly.

As the story is told, the next evening at dusk, on All Hollow’s Eve, the shipwright met the others at the inn again, and asked where this haunted valley and creek supposedly was. To his dismay, no one could give him an accurate description, only pointing vaguely to the southeast of the inn. Laughing out loud, he went the way they pointed as darkness quickly fell. Without a torch or lantern to show the way, he left the crowd confidently and went toward the path that entered the woods.

Leaving the comforting light of the inn, the shipwright quickly found himself in the deep, dark woods that surrounded the village. Looking up, he could not see the stars for it was a cloudy night, and no light was present to guide him. There was no more path, and it became clear that his work would be cut out for him.

“Well,” he said quietly to himself, “What have I gotten myself into?” But he continued in the general direction to which the others had pointed. As he managed his way through the dense undergrowth, rustling through the dead leaves and branches that autumn brings, he became aware of the sound of an owl spookily hooting in the distance in the direction he was headed. He decided to follow the sound in hopes of finding this supposed mysterious valley and its old lady.