Harper's Ferry, West Virginia is a place that should be on everyone's bucket list and yet it has remained largely undisturbed for hundreds of years, playing second fiddle to near-by tourist destinations, such as Gettysburg, Antietam, and Washington DC. Rich in history, the area is also a scenic destination popular with hikers and nature lovers. In 1783, Thomas Jefferson proclaimed the location "one of the most stupendous scenes in nature." Though most notably recognized for John Brown's raid on the armory and its role in the Civil War, Harper's Ferry's historical significance to the growth of America began when Lewis and Clark used the small town as the starting point for their famous journey across North America. At the confluence of the Shenandoah and Potomac Rivers, it was the perfect location for travelers and settlers alike. Unfortunately, a consequence of the untamed rivers is the numerous floods that destroyed the town many time. It was eventually abandoned. The restored historical portions of the town are now a living museum, while the sparsely populated residential section has shifted up the steep inclines. The area is virtually ignored by large tour companies despite its convenience to other significant tourist attractions.
Walking through the mostly abandoned streets of Harper's Ferry became more than a hobby for me - it was an obsession that I never tired of. With a promise of fresh kettle corn, I could often lure my husband into the 25 mile drive. The mix of hikers as they stop on the Appalachian Trail, small tour groups that are not deterred by the hilly terrain, and families who stumble upon this hidden treasure make for a welcome change from the bustling crowds of the nearby, more populous locations. Store keepers and cafes along Potomac and High Streets are always pleasant and chatty. Which is what led me to one particularly interesting encounter...
Climbing the steep incline up High Street, the businesses give way to residences about mid-climb. One of the last businesses up the hill is a modified general store/novelty shop. The front of the store crowds the street, barely making room for the sidewalk, while the back of the building suspends precariously over the businesses tucked below on the riverfront Potomac Street. A lot of the foot traffic doesn't make it up the hill, but my mother, daughters and I braved the climb.
Browsing through plastic knick-knacks and local pottery, I couldn't help noticing that the teenage cashier was less than interested in customer service.
"Bored?"
A bit startled that I'd caught him in mid-yawn, he smiled sheepishly and explained that it had been a slow day. We chit-chatted about the warm weather and Appalachian State where he was going to school and what it's like to be a Harper's Ferry native. Then I pointed out an interesting photo of a bearded mountain man playing a fiddle that I assumed was a scene from a reenactment, but the young man said that it is an honest-to-goodness mountain man that hikes out of the mountains each spring to play his fiddle in exchange for cash and moonshine. Nobody knows for certain where he lives or how many years he's been coming to Harper's Ferry to entertain. His speech is a throwback to a 100 year old mountain dialect that whistles through his few remaining teeth.
"It's amazing to think that there are areas of West Virginia that a person can still live unnoticed." I said.
"Tell me about it." The boy's eyes twinkled and I knew he had a really good story to tell.
"One weekend me and a couple of my friends went backpacking to this hidden lake. It is crystal clear and on a really hot, humid day, we like to hike out there for a swim, so we decided to camp there for the night. Before we set up our camp, we stripped down to our shorts and jumped in. We swam for awhile and one of my friends said look at that cabin up there. It was a really old hunters' cabin, really worn-down. You wouldn't think anybody would be in it, especially this time of year. But a guy and a young girl were standing on the porch looking at us. When they saw us, the guy pulled the girl back into the cabin. We didn't see them again that night. Later, it was like midnight or something, we were sitting around the campfire and we couldn't stop thinking about the man and girl in the cabin. The cabin was probably a half mile up the hill from our camp and we couldn't see it from our campsite. We wouldn't have seen it at all if we hadn't gone swimming.
"Anyway, my one friend was freaked out and said he wanted to leave. It's pitch dark and we really didn't want to hike back through the woods in the dark, but he wouldn't let up. He kept saying 'Something's not right. Something's not right.' Pretty soon he had us all freaked out, so we just got out of there. We left most of our stuff and just started walking. When we got back home, it was like 2am. My parents woke up and I told them about the guy and young girl. My dad said there was a news story about a young girl being missing, so he called the police. The police went out there and, you know what, the guy had kidnapped the girl and was keeping her there. He was like this 40 year old pervert and she was only 12 years old. And when the police caught him he said 'Did those boys tell you I was here? They're lucky they left because I went down to their camp to kill them and they were gone.' Honest to God, that's what he said."
Now that's a good story!
