“Visit the old man,” they said with a chuckle to the young investigative reporter, “Old Man Pike knows all about what you are asking. At least more than anyone else around here. He’s just down the road on the right across from the woods, probably in his rocking chair on the porch.”

So the young reporter duly went down the street where directed and soon found the old man rocking slowly on his porch. Approaching him slowly, he asked if it was okay to visit for a while. The old man nodded, and indicated a nearby chair for the reporter to sit in.

“Know about it all? Well, if that’s what they said, then I reckon it’s true,” said the old man in a quavering voice. He pulled at his bright red suspenders for a moment and looked thoughtful. With a grunt, he slowly shook his head and continued.

“So, you want to know about some of the strange things around Wesleyville, do you? I guess you came to the right place, seeing how I been sitting here on this porch for about forty years or more. Son, I guess I have pretty well seen it all or heard about it anyways.

“Course, you probably heard about the Witch of Wesleyville, the disappearance of the last of the Eriez Indians, Mad Anthony Wayne, and all the murders and such. Heard about the Bigfoot sightings and seen some awful strange lights in the sky, and also about that Killer Clown a little while back. I was a deputy then and never could find that murderer - just that loud cry and he was gone!

“My granddaddy told me about that Union soldier that disappeared up the creek bed with that ghost woman, just over yonder in those woods. And I was just a youngster when that woman burned up her stepdaughter. Boy, the tongues were wagging for years after that murder, especially when she came back and lived in east Erie near where it all happened. She should have gotten life or worse for what she done, but I guess justice doesn’t always happen.

“I seen and heard lots of things, boy. Probably enough to fill your notebook there and more. Sitting here with nothing much to do makes you notice a lot more, I reckon. Oh, I get around every now and then, long as my joints hold up. I seen the shadows at the cemetery late at night, where that man still mourns his wife’s loss - heard him, too!"