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Ghost of Heckler Plains LbNA #5069

Owner:Adoptable
Plant date:Aug 3, 2003
Location:
City:Harleysville
County:Montgomery
State:Pennsylvania
Boxes:1
Planted by:raindear
Found by: GSTroop71928
Last found:Apr 14, 2023
Status:FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFaF
Last edited:Aug 3, 2003
The Ghost of Heckler Plains

Got a report in early July 2007 that someone could not find
the referenced bench. I can't either. Must be gone or overgrown. It's not all that important to the overall hunt. The box is still there as of 11/5/07.

Discalimer: As I indicate at the end of this story, this was our very first box placement. Now that I have over 50 others scattered throughout the area and as far away as Maine and Texas, I have learned a great deal. Primarily, regarding the stamp, it is better to be hand-carved and should reflect either the story or the location (or both if possible). This one does not. Yes, I could easily carve one, but no I will not. Like I said, it was our first and I'm sentimental. Just thought you should "know before you go". Hope you check it out anyway.

Difficulty: wooded trail walking with one fairly steep slope to climb down (and back up).
I suggest decent walking shoes (not open toe sandles).

Our family has had many fun nights at the Heckler Plain Farmstead in Harleysville, PA. It is a great place to take a picnic lunch or dinner. Our local Indian Princess tribe has met there numerous times to cook out and hold our monthly meetings. Normally after we finish dinner, the Dads sit around and talk about upcoming camping trips while the girls swing and climb on the little log cabin.

Inevitably, our little ladies wander over to the big barn to peek in the cracks and under the doors. They always come screaming back, yelling about the ghost they just saw. It is supposed to be a young girl about their age (7 or 8) who lived in the farmhouse 100 years ago when this was still a working farm. Of course, none of us Dads have ever seen this ghost girl. That is, until last week…..

I was over near the Farmstead, poking in the creek with my two youngest daughters, Christine and Katharine. We would often hike over there from our house or maybe take our bikes for a picnic lunch. This day we were just flipping rocks, looking for crawdads and salamanders. We were headed back towards the barn when Katharine stopped short and I heard a small gasp escape her lips. I looked at her, and then at Christine. Both were staring straight ahead. I followed their gaze and much to my surprise, saw what can only be explained as, a ghost. It was indeed the image of a young girl, about 8 years old. She was dressed in a ragged, but other wise clean, old-fashioned nightgown. The gown was long, covering her feet despite the fact she was sitting. She was perched on the large rock just behind the barn, reading a book.

By the time it finally registered in my brain exactly what we were all seeing, the young girl had already seen us and jumped up. She started running towards the woods, in the general direction of the big electrical tower on the edge of the open field. We followed her for a short distance along the tree line in a southeasterly direction. She ducked into the trees right where a small wooden bench is built into the ground. We were surprised to find a small trail there in front of the bench. We were barely quick enough to see her head off to the left along the trail.

She went on, past the 100 year old Red Oak, pausing only long enough to see we were still following her. When she got to a tree with three trunks, she darted down the hillside. We thought she was heading for the creek at the bottom, but about half way down, she crossed another small trail and headed to the right. We stopped at this point to see which direction she would head in next. I actually watched carefully enough to notice she took about 20 paces along this trail. She glanced back and could not see us where we were hidden up near the higher trail. She hopped off the trail in the direction of a dry stream bed. She ducked behind a forked tree and seemed to stop there.

We went slowly down the hill to where she had stopped at the forked tree. The young girl was nowhere to be found. She had disappeared completely. I looked at my girls and said, “did we really see a girl or was it our imaginations getting the best of us?” But Katharine was peeking around the base of the tree. “Look, I think she left her book in this hole.”

This was our very first box.
Please send us a note regarding your adventure and the condition of the box. Thanks. The Raindears.
trainear@comcast.net