A church in Sleepy Hollow, N.Y., where the "Legend" still holds sway.
Tis the season to be spooky. When pumpkins become glowing goblins, ghouls and fairy tales wander the streets, and the unnerving names of some places awaken from their forgotten corners of the map of the United States and haunt our imaginations...
There are evil spirits in these hills, but not the kind you might think...
A seasonal scene from Kill Devil Hills, N.C. The town is famous for its role in the Wright Brothers first powered flight. On Halloween, though, the town's devilish side shines.
According to local lore, pirates on shore leave sat amongst the sand dunes swigging moonshine "strong enough to kill the devil." Other stories say the area earned its appellation from an old brand of rum that washed up from a nameless shipwreck. Either way, the devil's in the rum.
But there's much more to this town than a liquor legend. Big Kill Devil Hill is the site where the Wright Brothers achieved the first heavier-than-air powered flight in December 1903. A granite marker marks the occasion.
The entire Outer Banks region brims with history (spooky and not-so-spooky) including that of the English colony of Roanoke Island, a community that vanished in 1587. The Lost Colony outdoor drama retells the chilling tale. On Halloween, the community's devilish side truly shines with the First Flight Village neighborhood's ghoulishly extravagant outdoor displays, and the Nags Head Church's "Trunk or Treat" event, which sounds more sinister than it is. (It's a time to trick out your car trunk and your wheels and hand out treats from the back of your car, not a ruse to lure candy-crazed kids into the trunk.)
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Sidebar Story:
A town makes a Hell of a name for itself.
If you're on Louisiana Route 65 and feel summoned by a giant Transylvania bat on a white water tower, drive to the Transylvania General Store, gaze into the hypnotic eyes of Count Dracula (painted on storefront) and read the words, "We're always glad to have new blood in town." So prepared, you might, instinctively raise a hand to your throat. It's only natural.
The water tower in Transylvania, La.
The town is full of bats.
The sort you'd see on magnets, mugs and t-shirts at the general store, and the kind that screech as they fly through the night. Thankfully, the real bats feed on the area's other airborne inhabitants, mosquitoes. Other than that, the community's much smaller than its Romanian cousin, with only a service station, general store, post office and fire department.
The origin of its batty name? Not as bloodcurdling as it sounds. In the early 1800s an alum of Kentucky's Transylvania University bought acreage and named the town after his beloved alma mater. Things that might curdle your nerves include the road signs warning motorists that hitchhikers might have escaped from nearby prison farms. There's also talk of supernatural beasts (half human, half buffalo) surprising drivers.
Snag a bottle of Vampfire and Bat's Brew hot sauce at the general store. A spicy splash in a suspicious hitchhiker's eye might ward off danger (if not vampires).
