Our trip to Cape Cod was one of those last-minute things where we really didn’t know what we wanted to do… so we decided to fill up our National Park Passport with stamps. That being said we ended up stopped in traffic in front of Buddha Bob’s only a little down the road from Salt Pond which was our real destination. And this place looked so bizarre that we decided right then and there it needed more investigation.
It was… a trip. WELL worth the detour! I parked in front of a Bigfoot wearing gold chains and that’s where we started. Have you ever been to a little shop that has no idea what it is? This would have been that. It was part rock shop, part lot for eccentric yard and garden ornamentation, part commissioned junk shop. As such we found everything from a pair of bronzed baby booties, to Buddhas of every conceivable size, to LOTS of pretty rocks inside, to a pair of Turkish looking marionettes (perhaps haunted!) to a rather fetching (if totally rusted) statue of Achilles. Fuck knows my Achilles heel is… Achilles himself. That’s how I ended up writing a whimsical satire about his teenage years but I digress.
Buddha Bob’s was an adventure for sure. No one quite knew what would be around each corner and to my great delight the people running the shop were just as unrepentantly weird as the shop itself. This was my kind of place. And my travel companion lucked out by buying two hematite rings for $1.88. I know in previous entries I have been a little dubious about the whole hematite ring thing but I guess it’s not so bad if each replacement is less than a dollar… This was my happiest tourist trap yet. FEEL THE WHIMSY!
I can’t tell you how many times I have driven by Aardvark Antiques, saw the big lions out front, and made a note to go there without ever making it. It’s one of those things – you know, a thing in town you just keep putting off because it’s so close.
Finally, the intrigue got the better of us and we decided we’d take a little poke at it. Nothing could have prepared us for what was beyond the big wrought iron gates. There in a small yard was a fascinating array of outdoor statuary. Some concrete, for those of us who aren’t dropping a trail of gold coins like a goblin, and others were bronze for those of us who really are. A life size bronze stallion galloped in place with a sort of intense realism. He demanded a $22,000 price tag. But if stallions weren’t your thing there were also an assortment of Grecco-Roman styled statues, a few dragons, a herd of African Safari animals, some creepy children, and two giant dancing frogs for anyone who was both rich and quirky.
Inside was even more interesting. This place was packed from floor to ceiling with just about anything to delight any eccentrics in the area. On the wall a giant moose head glowered down at us. The ceiling formed a canopy of random hanging things – everything from bicycles, to chandeliers, to a life-sized angel being lowered down from the heavens. It was almost like if the Catholic Church had a junkyard of antiquities. Moving on we came to a whole room full of stained-glass windows clearly from churches. Some were just ornate and colorful while others displayed whole religious scenes.
The furniture in this place all looked like it’d been freshly imported from some castle on Game of Thrones. Crazy heavy carved wooden chairs, tables, and writing desks played among smaller items that ranged in all categories. There was even a cabinet full of what looked like medieval Jesus paintings. And a lot of Asian pieces as well. It felt like getting lost in a bit of a time warp. Should I ever find myself a wealthy eccentric I’m coming back and just pointing at things to load into the truck! This was well worth the visit!
During our last visit to the Eyrie House Ruins we noticed a sign aside the road promising dinosaur footprints. We didn’t have the energy to check it out then but this time we did! And of course with four people this time half the group was less than thrilled at the idea of more hiking. However the sign said it was maybe 300 feet to the destination at hand… which is nothing. So off we went!
And we ended up in this weird little rock outcropping with a mural of dinosaurs on it. We were still missing the point until one of us yelled, “Oh my God, there really are dinosaurs!” And looking down there were in fact a series of tracks from several different kinds of dinosaurs. They were eroded from being in the elements but still visible if you knew what you were looking for. Is it worth going out just for this? Maybe not, but it is totally worth a detour if you’re in the area anyway…
After thoroughly enjoying B F Clyde’s Cider Mill we decided to continue the day by going into the more populous side of the city for a little shopping. I’m not really one who normally enjoys shopping for the sake of shopping but I am starting to see this might just be because of the places I end up and the people I go with. I say this because on this day I had a great time!
I guess I was intrigued by the description of the shops there including an Alice in Wonderland themed tea shop and a storefront promising an assortment of sharp stabby things (seriously… who has even heard of a sword shop?! Sounds so medieval.) And all of it was situated in the Old Mystik Village which sounds sooo… witchy. I guess this is what made it all the less surprising when we walked into a series of mystic and magic type shops that had everything a Wiccan or Pagan could possibly want. We spent a good few hours picking shops that seemed interesting and wandering in to poke at things like an enthusiastic tourist. I am going to try and remember all of them and list them below but we’ll see how this goes!
Ice Imports: This was the promised stabby things store but it didn’t look like it when we first walked in. In fact it looked like a rock shop with all sorts of geodes and shiny rocks. Some were natural others were in bracelets and rings. The whole middle of the store was dedicated to magic bracelets – made with rock beads of your choice – each listing what magical purpose they were good for. None of the labels said anything about their more utilitarian use – they were GREAT fidgets! Especially if you buy two or more and play with them together. My companion was happy to find more hematite rings… to replace the ones he bought in Salem… I am absolutely perplexed how he keeps breaking them but I guess that’s part of their charm. Their sellers claim they break when they have absorbed all the negative energy they can. Convenient… I can’t say I am convinced but I respect the beliefs of others. There were also a bunch of ADORABLE knickknacks and a counter full of shiny stabby things!! So basically you could buy a baby dragon and a sword to slay it all the same shop!
Dharma Jewels: From there we walked into Dharma Jewels which describes itself as a gift shop full of handmade Tibetan and Himalayan goods. I couldn’t help but see the parallels between this and the witch shops as they also had a lot of space dedicated to things like lucky coins but also an assortment of colorful clothes, weird bags, and more recognizable religious artifacts like prayer flags and posters of Krishna. The women working the counter seemed very happy and the place had a uniquely pleasant smell, not sure what it was.
Alice in the Village: I just had to go to this little Alice in Wonderland inspired tea shop. I mean come on, it’s obvious I love the story – I draw a weekly comic based on the hookah smoking caterpillar’s ill-begotten grandchild. ANYWAY, the place was adorable. It had Alice in Wonderland mugs, knickknacks, and decorations lining the walls. The decorations to the place added to the sheer whimsy of it. It was a small place with a tiny seating area and a counter full of colorful macaroons…. which I had to try because I’ve never eaten a proper French macaroon. They’re crunchy and filled with goo. I was not expecting that but they were good! And they went well with the magic disappearing Cheshire Cat mug that ended up going home with me.
Alice in the Village
Bestamors: This shop was HUGE and weird. It was a shrine to everything Nordic/Northern European. Warm clothes, creepy trolls up the wazoo, gnomey gnomes, swarms of nesting dolls, and another counter full of stabby things listed by country! It just went on and on with no lack of things to poke at. I was thoroughly amused.
Extra Virgin: This place was another bizarre niche store that I couldn’t help but adore. As you walk in there is a row of dispensers for their flavored olive oils and vinaigrettes. And the other side of the store is dedicated to their flavored honeys – all of which you can try and we did! I ended up coming home with a bottle of blackberry bramble vinaigrette which is going to up my salad game hardcore.
Kitch: Kitch was another shockingly enormous store that really didn’t look big from the outside. Inside it was full to the brim with all the latest in kitchen gadgetry as well as a counter dedicated to a line of hot sauces. They had everything you could want here… pots, pans, tea kettles, cooking gadgets, unidentifiable tools, the whole lot! “I could lose several paychecks in here.” My companion lamented with plate-sized eyes. “I could too…”
Angel Haven: Once you’ve already been through several shops dedicated to lucky charms going into one dedicated to personal angels didn’t seem so weird. Lots of shiny pricey jewelry and some $600 steam punky clocks that opened up and showed all their gears once every hour while singing a different tune for each hour of the day. It was quite a display! And hey, someday if I ever become rich enough to dump $600 on a wall clock who knows, maybe I’ll be back. Never did figure out who my personal angel was – though if there’s an angel of anxiety and pointless distraction it’s probably that one.
Raining Cats and Dogs: I’m not going to lie – I find it pretty depressing I am currently not owned by any pets but seeing as both my travel companions had cats we all went in to see what damage we could do in that department. This place was mostly for dogs, small dogs at that, with all sorts of little coats and toys and whatnot but there was one corner dedicated to cats. And let me tell you the catnip toy that ended up coming home must have been some strong shit because the kitten just about went rabid when it was given to her.
Franklin’s General Store: I loved this place. It smelled kinda weird as general stores frequently do and it had everything from a fudge counter to a pile of zombie rubber ducks. It was a maze of eccentric old timey items and always fun to rifle through. I ended up buying a little encyclopedia of oddities because why not, might give me some inspiration.
Irish Eyes: Finally we went into an Irish themed store that was totally mental. I don’t know why I didn’t take any photos – maybe because it was a tiny cramped shop. Anyway, it had EVERYTHING you could possibly want Irishwise – funny T-shirts, cribbage boards, sheep galore, and even a music kit for starting your own Irish folk band that included several Irish instruments. It was weird and kind of sweet.
And that was our day shopping… from here we’d make our way to an escape room in Warwick RI because why not end our adventures there?
It was another sweltering 90-something degree day so we decided to do something that wasn’t too excessive. My travel companion had never seen a covered bridge so we looked it up and apparently there’s only one authentic covered bridge in Rhode Island – the Swamp Meadow Bridge in Foster. Even more adorable than the fact there’s only one is the story behind the bridge which is not in any way haunted or even old… actually it’s basically the youngest covered bridge I have ever heard of being built in 1994 to replace a normal boring cover-free bridge. Damn, I was alive then!
But hey, this bridge was immediately beloved. This is something I know because only four months after it was built someone burned it down and the town immediately rebuilt it. This never happens! Small towns never agree to do anything fast, especially something that was just completed four months prior!
But I digress. Off we went to Foster to see this little beauty. We had no issues finding it what-so-ever. It is located on a dirt road with only one house within eyesight. And the locals have posted a little historic bulletin to make it seem like it’s really old – the fees to cross such a bridge by mule for example. We parked nearby and poked around for a bit, taking a photo of the flyer and gently teasing the whole concept of it.
It was a sweet little bridge but was by far not a whole afternoon’s worth of nerdy New England entertainment so we decided to continue on to Rhode Island’s infamous non-authentic covered bridge the Carl Erickson Covered Bridge in Pascoag which was only a half an hour away. And in case you’re wondering what makes a covered bridge authentic… well, this is what Wikipedia has to say, “An authentic covered bridge is constructed using trusses rather than other methods such as stringers, a popular choice for non-authentic covered bridges.” I know, my eyes are glazing over too. Onwards we go!
Yet another summer has rolled around which means it’s time to go antiquing! And I don’t mean the stuffy sort of antiquing one might expect from Rhode Island. I am not in the market for a 15th century chair or some fine china I’m afraid to breathe on. I do have enough spare change for a good haunted doll though…
And so we found not an antique store but an antique mall. Antique malls are usually large buildings (in this case a 17th century mill) which rent out booths on consignment meaning it’s halfway between antiquing at a little shop and halfway between rummaging through the town yard sale. You never know what you’re going to find! Or for what price. I was in.
I loved the ambiance of the place even before we stepped inside. By the outside it looks grumpy and old. You can see how the cement used on the outside is beginning to crumble from advanced age exposing the rocks within. Nearby in the parking lot there is a river and a structure which I am guessing probably once hosted a big water wheel. Historic accounts of the town say there’s an inordinate amount of factory accidents, drownings, and people run over by horses or cars that has led to this section gaining it’s haunted reputation.
I didn’t know about all that when I walked in. Perhaps I was too distracted by the giant sock monkey being hugged by a Kraken-esque tentacle. Yup, we’d stumbled onto another winner. Right behind that was a cache of great vinyl records – most classic rock from the 60’s-80’s. Usually when I come into a place like this and there’s a record collection it’s 90% dollar records that no one has ever heard of (or just blatantly doesn’t want – I’m looking at you Bill Cosby albums.)
This place was massive and just seemed to go on and on. I was in love with the old architecture and the uniqueness of each booth. There was just everything here – including a bottle of arsenic that gave instructions of what to do in case of accidental poisoning. Somehow I don’t think milk and butter do a hell of a lot but hey, if it worked for grandma…
My travel companion kept entertained finding increasingly scary Santas spread like confetti through the entire store. As fun as that was I had my eyes on the less Christmasy dolls. There was a huge case of trolls… did you know they made PUPPY TROLLS? And they’re just as terrifying as they sound. Even worse was a doll that looked like it might be able to crawl on its own and another in a case with half its head missing – scalped? Lobotomized? One can’t be too sure. Always fun were the usual bassinets full of random doll parts just waiting for some young Frankenstein to come waltzing in. “Ah yes, this’ll do…”
An even more funny image to me was a plastic reindeer situated atop all the cases just looking out over the store. It was missing one foot and seemed… happy about that. And of course there was always a few items here and there to remind us of what racist fucks we’ve been in the past. A mammie doll here, an “Indian Joe” drumming figure there, and can’t forget the odd Chinamen… Still, there was MUCH less of this than in Maine which is what I’m used to.
Did you know that Mr. Potatohead once had a companion, Oscar Orange? I guess he must not have sold as well. Another bizarre find was the entire cast of the Wizard of Oz as cows. At the end of the day neither one of us came home with anything but we both wanted to return at a later date because you just never know…
I admit it was the Chepachet Cemetery which initially drew us in but after that there was the entire center of this little village was was supposed to be just as haunted and even better it was mostly antique shops that were said to be “very affordable” according to the reviews online. How could we resist?
But before we even got that far we checked out Brown’s and Hopkin’s: the US’s “oldest consecutively run general store.” It started its life as a residence and hattery in 1799 but switched over to a general store with new owners in 1809 which it has stayed until this day.
And to top of the experience the staff here were as cheerful as the day was sunny. It was al together a great experience even without meeting the ghosts that are supposed to haunt the property. It was only a hop and a skip to the antique stores which made it all the better.
New England is the place to live if you’re into horror. The reason is pretty simple – we have a long and strange history that revels in the terrifying. From our first white settlers we’ve have been a deeply superstitious bunch and this is pretty apparent in the case of Mercy Brown.
Mercy Brown was a young woman in Exeter Rhode Island who died at the tender age of 19 in 1892. She was the latest victim of consumption, a disease that was ravaging a good deal of her family and the surrounding community. Today we know tuberculosis is caused by a highly contagious bacterial infection of the lungs but back in Mercy’s day this wasn’t well understood and locals believed that it was the wrath of the dead – specifically that diseased corpses were raising from their graves as vampires. It was a belief born to the fact that consumption was a wasting disease that took months or sometimes years to kill a person who by the end would frequently look like a shuffling emaciated corpse coughing up blood.
The Brown family previously had lost their matriarch, Mercy’s mother, as well as her sister and herself. When the family’s only son was also hopelessly ill drastic decisions were made. After gaining permission from the community the mother and her two daughters were exhumed so their bodies could be examined for signs of vampirism. Mercy, who was likely held above ground in a local crypt for those two cold months, showed remarkably little decomposition (likely due to being frozen and/or kept in fridge-like temps.) This was seen as proof that she was the vampire responsible for the continuing deaths.
The crypt in question still lies to the far left of the cemetery.
From here things got a bit gruesome. In an attempt to save her brother’s life and stop her own post-death rampage the community removed her heart and lungs, cooked them on a pyre, and when nothing but ash remained they were ground up and fed to her brother. Sadly this folk ritual had no effect and he followed his sister to the grave just a few months later.
These incidences were recorded in the newspapers at the time and were thought to have influenced horror writers of the day – mainly HP Lovecraft but also potentially Bram Stoker. There had been at least eighteen other cases of vampire exhumations in New England’s newspaper reports which suggests there were probably a lot more that went unrecorded, a fact that has been reinforced by recent archeological finds of other strange burials, some being kept down with bricks, others with their bones and skulls being made into a grim cross. However Mercy is fondly remembered here as “The Last American Vampire” for she was the most recently recorded. This ritual is still practiced in some rural regions of Romania and possibly a handful of other countries even today despite laws being made against it.
The grave where her heartless body rests has been visited by all sorts of strange folk including myself and my travel companion. She rests in the Chestnut Hill Cemetery behind the Baptist Church in Exeter Rhode Island. Her grave can be seen from the entrance to the cemetery and lies underneath an evergreen tree. It’s a small white marble stone in her family’s plot that’s hard to miss because other visitors have left pennies and other little trinkets. There’s supposed to also be a little guest book in a Tupperware tub but I didn’t see that – it might have been picked up because of Covid precautions. I was however amused by two Disney princess band-aids stuck to the stone as I left my own penny.
Holy Land USA, dubbed “Jesus’ Junkyard” by fellow enthusiasts is one of those places that I had heard about a lot in the past couple of years and had on my bucket list. I realize I have done painfully little in Connecticut but it’s a bit harder to get to than some of the other places in New England I have haunted on a more frequent basis. I may have continued to put this particular trip off except I mentioned it to my travel companion and how if I was going to go this year it’d have to be soon before it starts snowing. His eyes lit up and we started actual plans to go.
Holy Land USA was built in 1955 and enjoyed up to 40,000 visitors a year in its prime before being closed in 1984. The hope was to expand the site or move it elsewhere but it’s founder died in 1986 and it remained abandoned. Since then it’s been a bit of a morbid attraction to urban explorers like myself. It grew an even darker appeal in 2010 when a sixteen year old girl was raped and murdered under one of the crosses, bringing not just urban explorers to the site but paranormal investigators.
Obviously, we were going during the day just to see the ruins rather than exploit a tragedy. The last two abandoned amusement parks we went to were pretty much stand alone sites with not much around them. One had been turned into a park and one was nestled in the woods. I expected something similar with this but that just wasn’t the case. When I was maybe a mile off from my destination I found myself winding through a rough neighborhood in the middle of a proper city – Waterbury. This couldn’t be right. There couldn’t be an abandoned amusement park nestled in the hills amongst derelict homes smack dab in the middle of a city block – could it? I figured the internet and the GPS were once again conspiring to kill us. But then I drove up a hill to where it said the destination was and I’ll be damned… I was greeted with two big gates and a lot of signs all reading Holy Land. Huuuuuuuh. I guess Jesus really does love impoverished peoples.
There was no official parking lot, nor any clear place to park aside the street and no one else was here so I basically just scooted the car as far as I could off the road (which wasn’t much) and we got out. Initially visitors used to be discouraged from coming here but it’s been such a popular destination that locals gave up trying to police this and instead put up signs saying no visitors after dark. Fair enough.
We were the only ones here at this point so we headed in. The gates were purely aesthetic as the park itself was not fenced in and we were able to just waltz right in. We were greeted with a little entrance that gave three options, “Jerusalem, Holy Land, Bethlehem.” It must have been made for a shorter generation as I barely got under it without ducking. Beyond this was what looked to be a tiny ruined city reminiscent of the apocalypse. The Virgin Mary lived on here… behind bars in a cave. Morbid.
There were trails remaining around the park and through the weeds as well as a circle of pavement around the back. We made our way through reading some of the signs that had been repainted. I was particularly amused by one that said, “Jesus speaks to the women.” Ah yes, the women, I remember them well. What did he say to them? Go back to the kitchen and make me a sandwich? Maybe. There was no further explanation.
We eventually got to the top of this hill where the crosses were. I guess they’re still lit up at night. The one on it’s own read, “Our Lady of Peace” but was wrapped in barbed wire. It was a jarring juxtaposition that my travel companion noticed first while I was busy taking in the view. We were high above the neighborhood we’d driven through and I could see a large chunk of the city from this vantage point – houses, churches, a decrepit mill, the winding highway… It was very interesting! An unexpected bonus.
We walked around and found the saddest Tower of Babel ever, standing a mere few feet in height. A set of three crosses also overlooked the city. And then I found Satan! I think, anyway. He came in the form of an adorable serpent sunbathing on the pavement. I’d never seen a bright green snake like this just roaming free in New England and wondered if he wasn’t someone’s lost pet but a quick Google search revealed he was Smooth Green Snake, totally native to the area. Wasn’t expecting to see a new species today! We took a few photos and let the poor beast be…
“Everywhere we go seems to take two hours of driving and thirty minutes of messing around and then back in the car to drive two hours home.”
“Well, I mean…. we can find somewhere else to go…”
And so on the way home we did end up at a second and actually far more impressive location. The Gillette Castle.
After escaping the velociraptors in the Enchanted Forest we continued our adventuring to yet another abandoned amusement park in Rhode Island. This one was more familiar to my travel companion as he was here in the mid 1990’s before it was abandoned making happy childhood memories. Curranty it’s been transformed into a regular park. Most of the rides were taken apart and sold or thrown away but some structures still remain on the grounds, now accompanied by little plaques!
Actually the park is very pretty even without the added allure of a decaying amusement park. It sits next to the ocean and there’s a lot of open space to run around and enjoy. Upon entering we were greeted with the remains of an old gondola ride – cables and pulleys reaching for the sky, rusted in place. It was pretty dramatic.
As I walked along a fledgling screech owl flopped to the ground at my feet. I was a little stunned, didn’t know if the tiny beast was OK, and started to walk towards him when he gave me that familiar look that I am accustomed to seeing from a cat, the one that says, “I MEANT TO DO THAT! Don’t look at me!” And with that he made a very klutzy return to the air. It was an event that only took a few seconds but it delighted me.
People were fishing on the docks, several children were flying kites on the grass, and we were moseying about reading the plaques. Apparently this place was where the first presidential phone call was administered in a very public setting. The whole story was recounted on this plaque: (or not as the photo doesn’t want to upload…)
But as interesting as that history we were here to poke around the weird structures. By now we couldn’t even figure out what they were anymore. Weeds and vegetation had taken its toll and it just wasn’t obvious anymore without the help of the plaques. Still my travel companion wanted to see the caves which were reportedly a little teenage escape back in the day… hidden from the rest of the park they would take the Gondola ride up there and jump off to meet clandestinely.
So we made our way up there and there was indeed a little rocky alcove with a few caves. Clearly teenagers were still living it up in the area as there was the usual scattering of broken glass, used condoms, and F*ck Tr*mp graffiti. Ah, the passion and the angst. I goddamn love you little delinquents.
We scrambled about the rocks going deeper and deeper into the woods before deciding to head back. It was a fun little escape and this park endeared me to it. We got to see some creepy trees, the haunted house, and what remains of the swing before we left. It was a good time all around and the perfect fall day to attend such a place.
