Huntsville, Texas locals refer to the road that leads to a small 1800s graveyard as “Demon Road.” Supposedly, some people report seeing hovering red lights traveling down the road. Others report that have been pushed and shoved by invisible hands on their way to the cemetery.

Bowden Road, AKA "Demon Road"

At the end of this road lies Martha Chapel Cemetery. Doing a google search returns all sorts of ghost stories about this little grave yard. People report seeing full body apparitions, some of which like to follow you home.

In 1985, the people of Huntsville became convinced that a nefarious coven of devil worshipers were calling up demons at the cemetery. Apparently the County Sheriff even went to the local high school and warned the kids to stay away from the road for their own safety. Hence the name, “Demon Road”.

Martha's Chapel Cemetery

Benjamin W. Robinson, b. May 10, 1812 d. Jul. 21, 1875

Sarah Ann Jenkins, d May 16, 1859

R. P. Stone, b. Jun. 23, 1812 d. Oct. 13, 1867

I didn’t see any demons or ghosts and there’s no invisible hitchhiker helping me to write this. While I didn’t find any phantoms, I did find a spot just outside the cemetery gates where someone had built a large fire. I also found lots of tire tracks and beer cans. Personally, I think this is a place where young people from a small town come to scare each other and to prove themselves by vandalizing the cemetery. So, my guess is that the most frightening thing one might encounter at night is a bored teenager with a cooler full of beer.

Here are two different ”ghost hunter” videos investigating the area.

1.) The better of the two. They basically stand around until they find a snake. The spookiest thing they find is that road dust stuck to their truck. Seriously. Click here.

2.) This “investigation” is a joke and is only funny because the ghost hunter is serious. He uses what he calls a “Ghost Box” to talk to ghosts. If you don’t pull a facepalm when you see what this ghost box actually is, you get a point. Click here.

The area was originally called “Robinson’s Settlement” and was located seven miles southwest of Huntsville in south central Walker County. It became a stronghold for Methodist activity in Southeast Texas in the early 1830s. The site is on a dirt road midway between Farm roads 1374 and 1791. By 1839 a campground, church (possibly the first church in Walker county; they shared their church building with other denominations) and school were established when land was given by William and Elizabeth Robinson (who are both buried in Martha’s Chapel Cemetery) to the Rev. Littleton Fowler, Superintendent of Methodism in the Republic of Texas. Early clergy who visited and served there included Isaac Strickland, Jesse Hord, Joseph P. Sneed, and Bishop Thomas A. Morris. The Fourth Texas Methodist Conference met on the land that is now Martha’s Chapel Cemetery in 1843, with Bishop James O. Andrew presiding. Sometime after the conference the local congregation adopted the name Trinity Church. The church and the area became known as Martha’s Chapel in 1854 after Martha Palmer, wife of a church trustee, died and was buried behind the church building. In 1855 John C. Black added twenty acres to the original Robinson Settlement, and a new building was erected near the old church. The original log church structure was then moved and turned into a barn. During the Civil War attendance at Trinity Church declined, and Rev. James G. Johnson (1812-1887) constructed a smaller building in 1863 that was known for a while as Johnson’s Chapel. When he died, Johnson bequeathed funds to complete the construction of the third and last place of worship at the cemetery site. It was dedicated on October 18, 1887, by Bishop W.W. Duncan. The congregation disbanded in the 1930s and ended a century of Methodism in the area.

The surrounding rural neighborhood maintained a school, though the bell rang only sporadically in the early years. In 1896 the Martha’s Chapel school employed two teachers, Miss Ona Randolph and Miss Mary Sterne (who is buried in Martha’s Chapel Cemetery). The schoolhouse remained as late as 1936 but was closed soon thereafter. By 1990 only the cemetery remained at the site.

On my way there, I ran across a couple of interesting abandoned buildings:

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I discovered what looked like the remains of an abandoned town on google maps last week and had decided that I’d drive out towards Baytown and check it out. What I found turned out to be what must be the creepiest park in Texas.

Neighborhood streets with what looked like the remains of houses

As it turns out, the area has a really funky history. It started out in 1891 as unincorporated community in Harris County called Wooster, Texas. It was hit hard by the 1900 Galveston hurricane and by the time World War II rolled around, Wooster had become an internment camp for captured German prisoners of war.

After the war, the Wooster internment camp became the Brownwood subdivision. In the 1940s and 1950s, it was a highly desirable residential neighborhood with almost 400 large homes. It was nicknamed “The River Oaks of Baytown” and was home to many well-to-do engineers and oil executives.

In 1961, Hurricane Carla devastated Brownwood and subsidence became a serious problem. Industrial and municipal water users pumped out aquifer groundwater faster than nature could replenish it. Additionally, industry pumped out massive quantities of oil, natural gas and sand. The sustained attack on the environment lead to Brownwood sinking between 10 and 15 feet into the San Jacinto Bay:

Newspaper photo of a Brownwood family during the "Valentines Day Storm" in February of 1969

A 1972 newspaper photo of a Brownwood subsidence

In 1983, extensive damage from Hurricane Alicia finally led to Brownwood’s total abandonment. By 1990, the steadily encroaching waters had submerged many Brownwood streets:

In 1991, the residents of Baytown took a small step towards doing something about Brownwood by voting to approve $300,000 in bonds to deal with the sinking ghost town. Eventually in 1997, Brownwood was declared a Superfund site due to the “legal”, but ethically dubious toxic dumping activities of various local oil companies.

Nowadays, the ex-environmental disaster area / ex-Nazi internment camp / ex-exclusive neighborhood / ex-toxic dump is now a place where people can bring their kids to play and fish.

However, Superfund money and playground equipment can’t seem to erase the fact that this place is actually a ghost-town with a sordid past as a dump:

A park nature trail

The park beach

A "nature trail" that's actually an abandoned Brownwood neighborhood street named MacArthur St.

Another "nature trail" that's actually an abandoned Brownwood neighborhood street named Crow Rd.

What's left of a Brownwood home. In this picture, you can see bathroom tiles.

Another Brownwood home. In this picture, you can see the remains of what was a kitchen.

What's left of a private boathouse

A dichotomy: this was once a Nazi-internment camp and vibrant family neighborhood

Walking the abandoned streets of Brownwood was evocative. This is such an interesting area. In this place, children grew up; they enjoyed things like Christmas mornings, riding bikes and playing house. In this place, people fell in love, fought and dreamed. In this place, engineers and oil-executives unwittingly designed  the destruction of their own homes. In this place, Nazis were held in captivity, people died in natural disasters and the land became toxic.

Best FaceBook comment: “I went to high school in Deer Park, then went off to college, but in th emiddle of those yrs actually went to Lee College in Baytown for a sememster. I dated a girl that lived out there in Brownwood, actually if I remember correctly, on Crow Rd. That was in 1973, if I recall. Those pictures really are frightening. Her family had this gorgeous ranch style rambler, and they were a happy family. Too bad that area has disappeared. I haven’t been back down there since probably 1975, so I had no idea it had changed so much. So sad……so sad.”

Since I’m supposed to be off today, I only worked half a day. So, with a few hours to kill, I decided to take a drive down old Hempstead Highway. I noticed the highway has a lot of rundown buildings that looked like they were left over from the 70s and 80s and thought I’d check them out:

At the Car Wash

Car Ash

The Machine

Waiting room looks like it’s waiting for customers

The BBQ Place

Interesting abandoned structure

Menu is intact; trays sit just inside of the window

The Barber’s Strip

Barbershop on the corner. Note the intact Barber pole

Inside the Barber Shop. Note the filled spray-bottle

Whatever this used to be, it’s now a fern garden

At the End of the Road

Hempstead Highway ends just after Beltway 8. At the end of the road the highway becomes particularly junky. However, the wisteria vines add just a hint of color to an otherwise dreary scene. To me, it looked like nature was feebly trying to rebel against the litter:

Yesterday I saw something I’ve not seen in years:

You know, I even have one of those silver-head 101 KLOL t-shirts in the back of my closet. After Clearchanel bought it, didn’t they turn 101 into a Tajano station?

I spotted this old house today. I pass by it all the time, but I’ve just never seen it before today:

This old house is located just inside the loop on the West side close to I-10. The place even has a 1980-era car parked in the drive.

Did you know that there’s a ghost town just a few hundred feet from downtown Houston? Well, neither did I. Carolyn and I were out riding bikes today and we road near downtown and came across an area of old (as in, turn of the last century) abandoned buildings. Some of the structures were obviously built in the 20s and 30s, but several were well over 100 year old.

I later found out that what we were seeing was what remains of Freedman’s Town. Freedman’s Town, (AKA, the Fourth Ward) was Houston’s Harlem in the 1920s. The town was settled by freed slaves in the 1800s and was very prosperous until the town fell into disarray as the “Houston Harlem” socialites got older. By the 1970s, Freedman’s Town had become a ghetto. In the 1990s, a gentrification effort was undertaken and most of the original Freedman’s Town structures were bulldozed… but a few buildings remain and here they are:

I think this old schoolhouse is amazing! I hope that it doesn’t wind up bulldozed. So many of the structures seem to be awaiting the demolition team. I’m sure as soon as they are gone, developers will waste no time building more of the partial board monstrosities that have sprung up all across what was once Freedman’s Town.

As I said in my last blog, I can feel the anticipation building as I move closer to next month and dealing with the 3 separate grants + moving + programmatic setup(s). I decided that I would get out of Houston and go camping for a couple of days. You know, I think it’s been more than 20 years since I’ve been camping : /

On my way to the campgrounds, I ran across some creepy places… so you know I had to stop and take pictures!

First, I found a cool abandoned motor lodge:

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And, I had to peek inside…

I was amazed to find that one closet was full of 1960s/70s era clothes:

Here’s the Motel sign. I wish I could make out the name,

Then I found an abandoned house. This one looked too rickety to risk going in though:

So, here’s some pics of the campground:

Here’s me at the campfire:

Warming up my feet:

Oh yah, almost I forgot. I ran across what seemed to be an old family graveyard while I was out. So, you know I had to check that out:

I liked this name: Hudson Oliphint.

I love when I run across folksy epitaphs: “No pains, no griets, no anxious fear, can reach our loved one sleeping here.”

So, it was really, really nice to run way for a couple of days. My first day kinda sucked because the people next to me were incapable of shutting the hell up! They brought a baby (who wouldn’t shut up crying), a dog (that wouldn’t shut up barking), 3 teens (who played music and wouldn’t shut up) and to top it off, their parents were kinda pathetic. The father would ask the kids to do something and when they wouldn’t, the mother would screech and scream at them – at which point they would screech and scream and the mother and the mother would loudly bemoan the fact that she didn’t have 3 abortions and then the teens would go back to what they were (loudly) doing. They didn’t shut up until 11.

When it got dark, I took my telescope and drove down to the edge of the water to do some stargazing. The sky was kinda hazy, so I wasn’t able to get a good look at Jupiter. However, since the moon wasn’t full, I was able to take a really close look at the surface of the moon (I didn’t have a moon filter). I could sit looking at the moon for hours and hours!

Anyway, my neighbors packed up Monday and I was left with nothing but peace and quite. Ah… it was so nice! I hiked for several miles and basically did a lot of communing with nature. My tent roof is mesh without the rain covering, so I was able to lay in my bed and gaze up at the trees and stars. It was all so beautiful, I started to weep. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to spend this much time with nature; I feel as if my batteries were recharged!

I had to take off earlier than I wanted to since I had a 3 PM appointment with the Havens Center representative at the Path of Tea. I had lunch from the Field of Greens and before my appointment, Rudy What’s-His-Name (I think he’s a coach of something in Houston) came in for a business meeting. I thought I’d get a pic cus’ I thought that it would be funny to have the big bad coach of a pro sports team getting a pic (even if it is a horrid post-camping photo) with a tranny

Carolyn called me around 4 to see if I wanted to do a trip down to Galveston for the evening. The first thing we did was to stop at the ruins of the pirate, Jean Lafitte’s home. As seems to be our karma, Carolyn and I found ourselves exploring yet another creepy place. The ruins are surrounded by a large fence with barbed wire at the top and a huge padlocked gate. Interestingly, the gate was open when we got there and in we went!

Afterwards, we headed for the beach:

I came across 3 ghost towns today. I also got way too close to a brown bear for a pic (which wasn’t a bright thing to do). All in all the trip has been enjoyable even if the hotel that I made a reservation at “lost” it and I’m subsequently staying in a motel that reminds me of several psycho-killer movies.

So, here are some of the pics:

This is what was left of an original building in Copperopolis, CA and is just off of Obyrnes Ferry Rd.

Next is the town, Camp Chinese, CA. After looking around on the internet, I found out that this city is the location of the first Tong War on American soil. The Tongs seem to be the Chinese mafia (like the Japanese Yakuza). Here is Main Street in Camp Chinese:

Here is the picture of the bear:

And a few pics of nature:

The following is – without a doubt – the best ghost town I’ve ever seen…

Here is the church:

Here is the inside of some of the houses:

Inside of the bar:

Inside the school:

Here’s a few shots of the town (Bodie) itself:

The last family to live in the town seems to have abandoned the place in the early 70s. Also, from what I could find, it is said that the last inhabitants had a habit of staging little vignettes in the abandoned homes so that they wouldn’t feel so alone. The high altitude ghost town is remarkably preserved and the eccentricity of last inhabitants makes it seem as if the town was in the middle of life as usual and was suddenly ruptured away leaving a Twilight Zone-like town suspended in time.