The First Prentiss: A Vanished Mississippi Town – Bolivar County

By Sherron Renay Bailey

When someone mentions Prentiss, Mississippi, most people immediately think of the town in Jefferson Davis County. It has been the county seat for generations and remains a thriving community today.

But did you know there was another Prentiss?
Long before the present-day town became a familiar name in south Mississippi, another Prentiss stood nearly 250 miles away in Bolivar County, overlooking the mighty Mississippi River. It was once a bustling county seat with a courthouse, businesses, churches, and families who believed they had found a permanent home.
Few people remember it today.

That Prentiss disappeared beneath the Mississippi River.

Its story is one of determination, tragedy, and one of the most remarkable rediscoveries in Mississippi history.

A Town Called Wellington

The story begins in 1836, when a community known as Wellington was established along the eastern bank of the Mississippi River. Because of its location, the settlement quickly became an important stop for commerce and travel in the rich Delta region.

As the community grew, so did its importance. In 1852, Wellington was selected as the county seat of Bolivar County, bringing lawyers, merchants, government officials, and new businesses to town.

Only four years later, in 1856, the town received a new name—Prentiss—in honor of the famed Mississippi attorney and orator Sargent Smith Prentiss, whose speeches were admired across the nation.

Prentiss flourished. A handsome brick courthouse rose above the river, accompanied by a jail, stores, homes, hotels, and the Bolivar Times newspaper. Historian Franklin L. Riley later recorded that the town had approximately 200 residents, making it one of the Delta’s most promising communities.

When the River Became the Enemy

Life in Prentiss changed forever during the Civil War. Much of the town suffered destruction in 1863, but the people who remained were determined to rebuild.

Unfortunately, another battle had already begun.
The Mississippi River has never stayed in one place for long. Over time, the river gradually shifted toward Prentiss. As engineers improved navigation by cutting through nearby Beulah Bend, the current moved even closer to the town.

Year after year, the powerful river carved away at the high bluff.

First, the outer edges of town disappeared. Then homes began falling into the river. Businesses followed.

Eventually, even the courthouse stood too close to the crumbling bank.

By the early 1870s, Prentiss had been abandoned. The county seat moved elsewhere, and nature slowly buried the once-busy community beneath earth, mud, and layers of river silt.

Many believed it was gone forever.

The River Gives Up Its Secret

For more than eighty years, old Prentiss remained hidden beneath the bluff.

Then, in June 1954, the Mississippi River surprised everyone.

Following heavy erosion along the riverbank, two local men noticed a massive brick wall emerging from the earth. What they had discovered was part of the long-lost courthouse of old Prentiss.

The ruins of the Prentiss courthouse emerged from the riverbank in 1954 after decades beneath layers of earth and silt. Photo courtesy of The Delta State University Archives & Museum.

The discovery quickly made newspapers across Mississippi.

Visitors traveled from miles away to see the forgotten courthouse with their own eyes. Some carefully climbed through the exposed walls and doorways while others searched the ground around the ruins.

Newspaper accounts described discoveries of family Bibles, personal letters, china, whiskey jugs, wine bottles, bricks, and pieces of lead—silent reminders that families had once called this place home.

One elderly man who remembered Prentiss before it disappeared described a thriving town with brick stores, impressive homes, and a courthouse that proudly overlooked the Mississippi River.

For a short time, history stepped back into the daylight.

A Race Against Time

As news spread, historians rushed to document the remarkable discovery before nature erased it once again.

Dr. William D. McCain, director of the Mississippi Department of Archives and History, expressed interest in preserving the site and its history. Archaeologists, local officials, and curious visitors all realized they were witnessing something few people ever expected to see.
But the Mississippi River was still at work.
The same erosion that revealed the courthouse continued eating away at the bluff until the exposed brick walls collapsed once again.
Slowly, the courthouse disappeared beneath the earth.

For the second time, Prentiss was lost.

The bluff overlooking the Mississippi River where old Prentiss once stood. The courthouse ruins briefly emerged here in 1954 before the river reclaimed them. Photo courtesy of The Delta State University Archives & Museum.

Could It Happen Again?

The Mississippi River is still changing.
Every year, it cuts new channels, reshapes banks, and uncovers pieces of history that have been hidden for generations.

Could another flood or another season of erosion one day reveal more of old Prentiss?

No one knows.

Perhaps another courthouse wall still stands beneath the earth.

Perhaps the foundations of homes, forgotten streets, or even more artifacts remain hidden beneath the bluff, waiting for the river to uncover them once again.

Until then, the first Prentiss remains one of Mississippi’s most fascinating forgotten places—a town that disappeared beneath the Mississippi River, only to briefly return and remind us that history is never truly gone.

Sometimes…
it simply waits beneath the soil until the river is ready to tell its story again.

---

Sources:
Franklin L. Riley, Forgotten Towns & Villages of Bolivar County (1902)
Hattiesburg American, June 17, 1954, “Ole Man River Liberates Part of Ghost Town”
Clarion-Ledger (Jackson, Mississippi), June 17, 1954, “Ole Man River Uncovers Buried Ante-Bellum Town”
McComb Enterprise-Journal, June 22, 1954
Mississippi Department of Archives and History
Photos courtesy of The Delta State University Archives & Museum

A Trip to Haunted Natchez, Part 2 – Adams County, MS

Hey, y’all! I’m back with part 2 of our historical Natchez trip, as promised. If you missed part one, click here to get caught up.

After a nice, leisurely breakfast at the hotel, it was time to tour Longwood. We stopped to pay at the gate, then made our way down the long, wooded drive. The views did not disappoint — it felt almost like we were traveling back through time.

I’ve been wanting to visit this National Historic Landmark for years. We arrived a little before our tour started and were directed to take a self‑tour of the family graveyard and the outlying buildings. One housed a cotton scale and other neat artifacts from bygone years. We even accidentally stumbled upon a pretty interesting storage area.

Nutt Family Cemetery

It was exceptionally hot, humid, and skeetery for the end of May; however, the gorgeous, massive, Spanish‑moss‑draped live oaks, towering pines and magnolias, and the lichen‑ and algae‑covered tombstones made it a little more tolerable. I felt like we were walking through a Southern gothic novel. The cemetery was peaceful and quiet.

As we made our way back toward the house, I couldn’t help but admire the architecture. This 30,000‑square‑foot, octagonal, Oriental villa is a mixture of Oriental and Moorish architectural styles. It’s composed of over a million bricks and is the largest octagonal home in America. Naturally, I had to look up how many other octagonal homes exist here— fewer than 70 original ones are listed on the National Register of Historic Places.

When the tour finally began, we had a pretty good‑sized group. We all huddled around our tour guide and listened quietly.

Before the war, the Nutt family was one of the wealthiest in the American South, with a massive agricultural empire. Haller and Julia were wed in 1840. He purchased this property to surprise her. Julia had played here as a child and loved the place. They tore down the existing house to build Longwood and spared no expense in hiring the nation’s top architect and importing only the finest materials from Europe. With the help of many artisans and enslaved labor, the exterior of the house was completeled in 18 months.

Longwood was designed to have 32 rooms, each with its own entrance to a balcony. Haller commissioned famed architect Samuel Sloan to design it, and work began in 1858. The war between the states halted construction, and workers left their tools behind, many still there to this day.

Haller did not fight in the war, but it had a huge impact on his life. Both Union and Confederate armies seized his livestock and supplies, and his cotton and sugar operations suffered greatly, with much of them destroyed. The family was forced to live in the unfinished basement.

Haller passed away in 1864 due to pneumonia, and the family was never able to complete the home. Only 9 of the 32 rooms were ever finished. The home became known as Nutt’s Folly.

Those nine rooms are pretty impressive, though, with their grand furniture and fireplaces. It was interesting to see how this family lived and learn about their work and daily lives.

As a writer, I got a bit nerdy about the desks and bookshelves. There were so many cool old books. Mark spotted some books on Egypt — something we’d later discover had a significant connection to Longwood’s story.

The other floors may not have been complete, but they were still impressive. One of these rooms would be my go-to place to write on rainy days if I lived here.

Toward the end of the tour, we walked back out front. Some of the bricklayers had left their mark for the ages—their handprints preserved in the brickwork. It was like a glimpse back through time. You could almost imagine they’d just been there.

After Haller’s death and the war’s end, nothing was ever the same for the Nutt family. Julia was left to raise the remaining 8 of their 11 children on her own. She spent decades seeking financial restitution for the losses caused by the war and was eventually awarded less than $200,000 — hardly enough to restore what had been lost. Julia passed away in 1897.

Despite their ill fortunes, the Nutt family continued to live in the basement and the home was passed down through the generations until 1968. Longwood was deeded to the Pilgrimage Garden Club by the McAdams Foundation in 1970 and declared a National Historic Landmark the following year. Now it is open for tours daily from 9AM to 3PM.

When asked if there were any questions, y’all know I had to raise my hand and ask for ghost stories.

Once, while giving a tour, our guide had ushered everyone into the next room when she caught a glimpse of a woman in a yellow, 1860s‑style dress passing in her peripheral vision. Thinking someone had been left behind, she went to check — but no one was there. No one in the group or on the grounds was wearing such a dress that day. At least, no one living.

Back at the gift shop, we talked to more of the staff about their personal experiences with ghosts. They told us about the haunted workers’ quarters, where one staff member went upstairs and felt an uneasiness accompanied by a heaviness on her chest. Others shared stories of disembodied voices, light switches flipping on by themselves, and a door that kept opening on its own during one unforgettable incident. I even got to see another possible picture of a ghost. Sadly, I don’t remember all the details of the story, but here are the pics shared. (Thank you so much, ladies!)

Said to be someone in the picture who wasn’t actually there.

This is the image blown up.

I can’t remember the story with this one. Maybe I can find my notes. Hmm.

We also learned about the ostrich egg on display. Remember that book I mentioned earlier (the one I forgot to snap a picture of)? It turns out that when the Nutt family traveled to Egypt, they smuggled cotton seed back inside ostrich eggs to sneak it past customs inspectors. This smuggled cotton was later cross‑bred with Mexican cotton (which is brown, by the way — I’d never seen any before; pretty neat). This hardy hybrid fueled the family’s antebellum fortune. This story was once dismissed as folklore, but documentation eventually proved it true. I imagine the person who uncovered that evidence was thrilled — it’s almost the historical equivalent of discovering a cryptid.

Later, we went to Natchez Under‑the‑Hill to grab some lunch and do a little shopping. I stumbled across a copy of Mississippi Magazine in the wild with our featured article and had to snap a pic!

I planned to squeeze in the buggy ride, our Rosalie tour, and the rest of our adventures here, but I’m officially running long — so those stories will have to make their debut in Part 3.

I probably snapped about 700 pics that day, so although I’ve shared many here, you’ll still have tons of things to see.

I highly recommend a trip to Natchez this summer (or fall) if you can make it happen. See Longwood for yourself — and while you’re there, don’t forget to book a Natchez Ghost Tour! 😉

P.S. I thought I had more notes on Longwood but couldn’t locate them. Most of this information is going off my memory. If you lovely gift shop ladies are reading this and have corrections or more to add, please leave a comment or shoot me an email at msfolklore@gmail.com.

Likewise, if any of you awesome readers have stories or places we should visit on our next trip, don’t be shy! Let us know. Thanks so much for being here with us.

Keep lookin’ up, and y’all stay spooky.

~T

The Angel on the Church Porch – Marion County, MS

By Sherron Renay Bailey

Over the years, I have shared many stories from Marion County’s past. Some come from newspapers, some from old records, and some come from the memories of people who lived them. This story falls into that last category. It is a story I remember from my childhood at Pleasant Hill Church in the Foxworth community, and one that has stayed with me all these years.

Marion County, Mississippi, is full of stories. Some have been passed down through generations, while others are remembered by the people who witnessed them. Whether they can be explained or not, these stories become part of the folklore of a community. This is one I have never forgotten.

I was raised in the Foxworth community and attended Pleasant Hill Church. Like many country churches, it was more than a church building. It was where families gathered, where friendships were made, and where people came together in times of joy and sorrow. It was the heart of the community for many of us growing up.

One night during a church service, there was a woman in the congregation who was very sick. The church had been praying for her for some time, and everyone was concerned about her condition.

That night, a stranger came to church.

I remember he had dark hair and features that made some people think he might have been Native American. Whether he was or not, I have no way of knowing. Native peoples lived throughout Mississippi long before our communities were established, and their history remains an important part of our state’s story. What I do know is that none of us seemed to know who he was.

During the service, the man prayed for the sick woman.

What happened next is what people talked about for years.

The woman got better.

The church was filled with excitement and praise. People were thanking God and talking about what they had witnessed. It was one of those moments that stays with you, no matter how many years pass.

After the service, the stranger walked out onto the church porch.

It was nighttime, and the church lights shined across the yard. Several people, including myself, watched him walk outside. Then, somehow, he was gone.

No one saw him get into a vehicle. No one saw him walk down the road. No one knew where he went.

He simply disappeared.

As the years passed, I thought about that night many times. I do not know how many people still remember it. Some of those who were there have passed on, and others may have forgotten. Time has a way of carrying memories away.

But I remember.

I remember the stranger.

I remember the prayers.

I remember the excitement when the woman got better.

And I remember standing there looking out that church door, wondering where that man had gone.

Many people believed he was an angel sent by God. Others may call it a mystery. Whatever the explanation, it became one of the stories connected to Pleasant Hill Church that has stayed with me throughout my life.

The Bible says in Hebrews 13:2, “Be not forgetful to entertain strangers: for thereby some have entertained angels unawares.”

Was he an angel?

I cannot say for certain.

What I can say is that a stranger came to Pleasant Hill Church in Foxworth, prayed for a sick woman, and vanished into the night. All these years later, I still remember that evening and still wonder if perhaps we entertained an angel unaware.

A trip to haunted Natchez – Adams County, MS

by Trista Herring Baughman

A few weekends ago, my husband and I celebrated our twentieth wedding anniversary with a weekend trip to Natchez. I’ve been to this beautiful city many times—usually just passing through—and always wanted to spend a little more time there. We did some research, asked friends, and browsed reviews before booking our trip.

Most of the stories written for the blog have come from past memories, word‑of‑mouth interviews, and research in books and online. This trip was exciting because we actually got to travel to the location, take our own pictures, and experience everything with fresh eyes. This will be the first of several posts about historical Natchez.

Our first stop was The Natchez Grand Hotel, which now stands on the historic site of the Natchez Cotton Mill, built between 1872 and 1874. The mill gave the city’s economy a much‑needed boost after the Civil War. In the early 1920s, the company merged with nearby Rosalie Cotton Mill, creating one of the largest manufacturing facilities in the state. However, it was hit hard by shifting economic conditions at the beginning of the Great Depression, forced to close, and later torn down. The Natchez Grand Hotel was built in its footprint in 2007 and remains there today.

While the building itself could use a few updates, the staff is friendly, and the location is perfect for tourists—right next to the river and within walking distance of downtown with all its antique shops and restaurants, Natchez Under the Hill, buggy rides, and ghost tours.

Natchez Grand Hotel

We were pleasantly surprised to discover an extra treat—The Natchez Songwriters Festival was in full swing. This three‑day celebration of original music takes place in historic downtown Natchez. Regional and national songwriters perform for free, and the shows are open to the public. It’s an annual event, and you should definitely look into it if you love live music. The streets and restaurants were filled with songs drifting through the air, creating a fun, relaxing atmosphere.

We were within walking distance of so many great restaurants that it was hard to choose—seafood, BBQ, soul food, and more. If food isn’t your thing, skip this paragraph and the next. Our first night, we ate at Pig Out Inn. Yummy BBQ. We’d planned on Biscuit and Blues, but we didn’t make it this trip. It’s one of our favorites, but we wanted to give a few other spots a try.

If you can only pick one restaurant for your Natchez visit, go with The Magnolia Grill, located at Natchez Under the Hill’s cute little shopping strip, and get the Silver Street Shrimp Alfredo with a side of grilled zucchini. You will not be disappointed. (We actually drove to this one, and I’m glad we did, because… that hill!)

Silver Street Shrimp Alfredo

When we got back to what we dubbed “Natchez Over the Hill,” AKA our hotel, we walked just across the street to see the magnificent view of the sun sinking low on the horizon—gorgeous hues of gold, red, and purple lighting up the sky and shimmering across the water. It was a nice change of pace to sit on a bench together and watch the boats and lights drift along the river. Romantical. Sigh.

Amazing sunset views

Then it was time for one of the highlights of our trip: the Natchez Ghost Tour.

The Ghost Tour

We’d waited weeks for this—our first ghost tour. Yet the skies were filled with dark, heavy clouds that poured down rain, threatening to cancel the much‑anticipated event. Fortunately, it only delayed it.

The walk from the hotel to our meeting spot was oddly un‑peopled—nearly deserted—as we made our way there. We didn’t have long to wait, though. The tour car was plainly marked, so you didn’t feel like you were about to wander through town with a serial killer. 😉 Our group was small—just the two of us and three nice ladies on a belated Mother’s Day trip (hey, y’all, if you’re reading this!) with Scott and his nephew, Cameron, as our guides.

Scott is originally from Pineville, LA. He enjoyed musical theatre in high school and later attended LSU. He’s now been in Natchez for seven years, six of those doing ghost tours. New Orleans had a lot of great ghost tours, and it only made sense to bring that to Natchez—what some have dubbed “The Little Easy.” When Covid hit, things changed and rearranged, but Scott rolled with it and improvised, making his tours even better.

Walking down the dimly lit, storied streets of Natchez while listening to our guides recount haunted history and humorous stories created just the right atmosphere. I won’t give away all his locations and stories—you’ll have to book a tour for that, and trust me, you want to. I will tell you about a couple of my favorite stops, though. Some of the locations on his tour, as well as other sites we visited during this trip (Longwood!), will be covered in future posts. Others have already been covered but may get a revisit.

My husband, Mark, took notes while I snapped tons of pictures. I’m so glad he did because there was so much to take in.

There were a lot of neat stops on the tour—a haunted hospital, a building visited by historical figures like Al Capone and Mark Twain, and one that’s always been on my bucket list: King’s Tavern.

You may remember King’s Tavern from a previous post of ours by Linda Mann. Built in 1769, it’s the oldest structure in the old river port city. It’s listed on the National Register of Historic Places and considered the most haunted restaurant in Mississippi. Several ghosts are said to haunt King’s Tavern. One of the most famous is Madeline, the young mistress of Richard King, the tavern’s original owner and namesake. Legend says she was murdered by King’s jealous wife, though no one knows for certain what became of her. That mystery deepened in 1932 when repairs were being made to the building. The fireplace collapsed, revealing the skeletal remains of three bodies—two men and one woman—hidden in the wall behind it. The woman was assumed to be Madeline. Beside the bones lay a jeweled dagger, believed to be the murder weapon. Some sources even claim it was still lodged in her chest.

Employees say Madeline never truly left.

And she’s not alone.

The Harpe Brothers—infamous for arson, theft, murder, and even killing crying babies—were said to have murdered a child here as well. Visitors have reported hearing the faint cries of a baby and the desperate wails of its mother echoing through the old rooms. Others have seen mysterious footprints appear where no one has walked, or strange reflections flicker across the tavern’s antique mirrors.

And just think… this charmingly haunted tavern could be yours, as it is now officially for sale. (Ghosts included at no extra charge.)

King’s Tavern!

Scott and Cameron telling us the haunted history of King’s Tavern

Scott told us he had a surprise for the end of the tour, and I have to say, he followed through. Our final stop was the Old Adams County Jail, built in 1891. This was a place I didn’t know I’d always wanted to visit.

The building is designed to look like a Queen Anne residential home. It was built by Champion Iron Works of Kenton, Ohio. Once upon a time, the sheriff lived in the front section and prepared food for the inmates. The building housed prisoners until about 1978, then sat dormant until the ’90s, when it was rehabilitated.

This was our surprise: Scott was able to procure special access for us to tour the inside of this amazing old building—with all its ghosts—late at night.

Today, the Adams County Board of Supervisors offices replace the sheriff’s living quarters, but if you head upstairs, you can still see the old jail pretty much as it’s looked for 135 years—death‑row cells, the hook used to tie the hangman’s noose above a metal trap door in the floor (we were not allowed to pull the lever), the old guards’ walk, and a few more cells. It was kind of surreal thinking about the real people who’d sat in those cells, waiting for their death.

Scott and Cameron came prepared, like any good ghostbusters, with flashlights and an EMF meter that did see some activity. And although I didn’t see a ghost, I did maybe see a picture of one.

The Courthouse

The Hanging Tree

The Old Jail House

Death Row

The Gallows

Picture of a ghost? This was taken of the guard’s walk in the old jail.
Photo Credit: Mississippi Paranormal Society & Scott McCoy

Leisurely strolling through the old jail at night, with shadows clinging to the walls and the stories of its past echoing around us, was the perfect mix of creepy and fascinating. You couldn’t help but wonder if something might be waiting in the shadows. 

For your own experiences with history, humor, and haunts, y’all make sure to book your Natchez Ghost Tour and tell them Mississippi Folklore sent you. I can’t say enough good things about the experience. The ghost tour already has five‑star ratings across the board, but it’s getting some upgrades in the near future; it might look a little different when you take it. The addition of shuttles will enable more stops along the way. Special thanks to NGT and Mississippi Paranormal Society for their collaboration. We appreciate yall and look forward to more collaborations in the future.

I can’t wait to tell y’all more about our trip to Natchez. I’ve just realized so many things I didn’t cover in this post, but I do have a word count to adhere to. The best part of the trip was celebrating our anniversary together. The next best thing was everything else. We loved our little road trip to Natchez and look forward to going back with the kids soon. It was nice to get back home to our own bed and see our folks, though. 🙂

For my next posts, I’ll tell you a bit more about our Natchez trip—the buggy ride and our tours of Longwood and Rosalie—so y’all be sure to stay tuned.

This is Hal. (You’ll meet him in my next post.)

P.S.

After writing this article, I learned that “Natchez On-Top-of-the-Hill” is an actual thing. Ha! Interesting.

I was also informed that King’s Tavern may have a new owner—potentially Natchez’s own nationally renowned chef—who shall remain unnamed for now, as the information has not yet been verified.

However, I’m excited about the possibility of the tavern reopening and the prospect of food service and tours returning there in the future. 🤞

---

Sources:

https://www.loopnet.com/Listing/613-615-Jefferson-St-Natchez-MS/27254603/

https://msparasociety.weebly.com

https://www.natchezghosttour.com

https://www.apps.mdah.ms.gov/Public/prop.aspx?id=535&view=facts&y=768

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/King%27s_Tavern

The Mystery Baby of Columbia – Marion County, MS

by Sherron Renay Bailey

Every community has its stories.

Some are passed down around kitchen tables. Some are told on front porches. Others survive only in fading newspaper clippings and the memories of those who came before us.

This is one of Columbia’s mysteries.

On a chilly October morning in 1943, a newborn baby girl was found lying on the doorstep of the Tom Roper home on Broad Street in Columbia, Mississippi. According to accounts published in The Columbian-Progress, the infant was discovered when a maid opened the front door to collect the morning milk.

Imagine the shock.

Who had left her there? Where had she come from? And perhaps the biggest question of all, why?

The baby was rushed to a local hospital. Though small, weighing only 4½ pounds, doctors determined she was healthy. She had apparently been born normally and showed no signs of harm. Yet no note accompanied her. No explanation was given. No one came forward to claim her.

It was as if she had appeared from nowhere.

Soon, the infant found a home with Dan and Lottie Bedwell of Columbia. They adopted her and named her Mabel Charlotte Bedwell. What began as one of the town’s greatest mysteries
became the beginning of a life filled with family, love, and community.

But the mystery never disappeared.

Who was the young mother who left her baby on that doorstep? Was she frightened? Was she trying to protect her child? Did anyone else know her secret? Those answers remained hidden as the years passed.

Charlotte grew up knowing she had been adopted. According to a later article published by The Columbian-Progress, she never felt unwanted and always considered the Bedwells her true family. She eventually married, raised children of her own, and built a life in the community that had embraced her.

Yet even as decades came and went, the mystery remained unsolved.

Today, Charlotte has passed away, but her story continues through her daughter, Alicia Elkins Bourn.

Like many people searching for answers hidden in the past, Alicia turned to DNA testing. Her search has revealed one biological relative connected to Charlotte’s family line, offering a small glimpse into a mystery that began more than eighty years ago.

Unfortunately, time is not always kind to family secrets. Most of the people who might have known the truth are likely gone now. Stories that were once whispered behind closed doors have faded with the passing generations.

Still, history has a way of resurfacing when we least expect it.

As someone who spends countless hours researching the people and places of Marion County, I often wonder if the answer is sitting quietly in a family Bible, tucked inside an old letter, or resting in a photograph album stored away in someone’s attic.

Perhaps somewhere, a family has a story about a young woman in 1943. Perhaps someone remembers a secret that was never meant to leave the family circle. Or perhaps the truth has already been passed down without anyone realizing its importance.

The mystery baby found on a Columbia doorstep grew up to live a full and meaningful life. She was no longer simply the infant found on a cold October morning. She became a daughter, wife, mother, grandmother, and part of the fabric of our community.

Yet one question still lingers. Who was she before she became Charlotte?

She always said, according to her daughter, that she never felt any ill feelings toward her biological family. Charlotte would say, “I figure my parents went on to have more children, together or separately. I would never want to disrupt their lives. They may have never told anyone else about me. They know where they left me, and I wouldn’t be hard to find.”

Maybe one day, someone will finally know.

---

Sources and Credits
Historical information and newspaper accounts courtesy of The Columbian-Progress.

Special thanks to Alicia Elkins Bourn for sharing her mother’s story and information regarding her ongoing DNA search for biological family connections. 

Historic Hill Hardware – Columbia, Mississippi

A Bit of History

For nearly 125 years, Hill Hardware has faithfully served Columbia, Mississippi, and the surrounding community. Founded in 1901 by W. A. Hill, the store operated on a simple philosophy: keep as much as possible under one roof. Tools, cookware, groceries, wagon repairs—even buying and selling cotton—Hill Hardware offered it all.

The original store stood where Trustmark Bank is today, back when Columbia’s streets were still dusty and unpaved. After a fire destroyed the building in 1916, the business moved later that year to its current location, the Barnes and Ruffian Company building, built in 1903.

As times changed, so did the store. Wagons and plows eventually gave way to trucks and tractors. In 1917, Hill Hardware helped form the Universal Motor Company and sold the first Ford car in Marion County—along with the first gallon of gasoline from a pump out front on Main Street. By 1918, deliveries were made by Ford truck instead of horse-drawn wagons.

In 1919, St. Albans Masonic Lodge #60 purchased the building, holding meetings on the third floor, and that same year, longtime employee Curtis Morgan purchased the business. Despite the hardships of the Great Depression and World War II, Hill Hardware endured. Morgan’s son Van later took over the store, continuing its role as a cornerstone of the community.

Ownership eventually passed to Leon and Patty Bohuslav in 1974. Determined to preserve the store’s character, they kept much of its old charm intact—creaky wooden floors, antique displays, butter churns, horse collars, and even an old wooden ship perched on the catwalk. Leon also coined the beloved local slogan: “If we ain’t got it, you probably don’t need it.” Known as the “Mayor of Main Street,” Leon and Patty remained beloved fixtures in Columbia for decades. Patty passed away in 2010, and Leon followed in 2011. The store was then purchased by David and Tanya Knight, who also worked to preserve the store’s essence while making only necessary updates.

Barnes & Ruffin Building can be seen in the background which is today occupied by Hill Hardware Company. Circa 1907 (Courtesy of Marion County Historical Society.)

The Spirit of Hill Hardware

But Hill Hardware isn’t just rich in history—it may also have a few lingering spirits.

During an estate sale last year, while browsing antiques that once filled the store’s shelves, my husband and I overheard employees sharing stories. They spoke of footsteps and creaking floorboards when no one else was inside. Lights turning on upstairs after being switched off. Items mysteriously crashing off shelves. The staff often joked that Mr. Leon must not have liked where something had been placed.

Later, when I asked longtime employees about it, most said they’d never experienced anything frightening. Still, several mentioned something curious—bright orbs appearing on the security camera in a back room, floating through the space with no clear explanation.

Maybe it was merely a mote reflecting in the light.

Personally, I like to think Hill Hardware might be just a little bit haunted… perhaps watched over by someone who cared for it too much to ever truly leave.

Conclusion

Today, new owners Ryan and Janae Breakfield continue the tradition of honoring Hill Hardware’s legacy while keeping its small-town charm alive. After more than a century of history—and perhaps a friendly ghost or two—the old store still stands as one of Columbia’s most beloved landmarks. Every time I visit, I imagine all of my kinfolk down through the years who browsed the same aisles. I hope my great-grandchildren get to do the same. Do you have any fond memories of your visits to Hill Hardware? Share them in the comments!

P.S. On Saturday, March 14, 2026, Hill Hardware will host a ribbon cutting at 11 AM to celebrate the new ownership, complete with door prizes and refreshments. You can find more details on their Facebook page, where they’ll be introducing their employees throughout the week. Y’all stop by if you can.

Hill Hardware 2026

From Hearth to Heart: The Evolution of Christmas Traditions in Mississippi

By: Natasha Mills

Christmas is a key holiday celebrated globally in both religious and commercial contexts. For perhaps thousands of years, Christmas traditions have developed and converged, pulled from different cultures, some of which are ancient, having begun even before the birth of Christ.

Christmas in Mississippi has always been more than a date on a calendar. It is a reflection of faith, culture, and community. From settlers exchanging handmade gifts and observing simple customs in the 1800’s, to the elaborate decorations, synchronized light shows, and parades of today, Mississippi’s traditions tell a story of cultural pride, heritage, and Southern warmth.

In generations past, Christmas in Mississippi and other Southern locales was largely an adult-focused season of feasts, gatherings, and celebrations, which over time evolved into the family-centric holiday we know today.  

The Pre-Victorian Era saw a divide in holiday beliefs, with Southern colonies, where the Anglican Church was prominent, celebrating the season with lavish entertainment. There were balls, house parties, and activities, such as hunting, dancing, and card games. A key tradition was the firing of guns and cannons, or banging pots and pans to salute the arrival of Christmas morning. Homes and churches were decked with local evergreens, such as holly, ivy, magnolias, and mistletoe. Feasting was central to the celebration, with tables laden with local game meat, sweet potatoes, and molasses-based desserts. Meanwhile, some Northern places like Boston, influenced by the Puritans, banned the holiday, as it was considered an English custom.

Mississippi’s history is deeply scarred by slavery, and for the enslaved population, the holiday season carried a meaning far different from the joy it promised others. For many, Christmas marked one of the few extended breaks from labor, lasting from Christmas Day through New Year’s Day. During this time, some enslaved people were granted passes to visit family members on neighboring plantations, where they held their own celebrations filled with music, dancing, and song. Extra food rations—such as beef, flour, sugar, and alcohol—were sometimes distributed, and plantation owners might offer small gifts like clothing, tobacco, pipes, or trinkets. It was also one of the rare periods when enslaved people could hold formal ceremonies and perform marriages.

Yet beneath these brief moments of respite lay profound fear and uncertainty. The days between Christmas—often called “The Big Times”—and New Year’s Day were shadowed by anxiety, as January 1st, known as “Heartbreak Day,” was a common time for enslaved people to be sold or hired out, often permanently separating families. For some, the holidays did not signal an end to cruelty. Punishments continued, and in some cases intensified, as slaveholders feared that idle time and large gatherings might spark resistance. As a result, some were confined or closely monitored throughout the season, turning what appeared to be a time of celebration into one marked by dread.

The Victorian Era and the Gilded Age drastically reshaped Christmas celebrations across the South. In 1819, Washington Irving published “The Sketchbook of Geoffrey Crayon, gent.” which was a collection of stories describing a peaceful warm-hearted holiday that brought groups together across lines of wealth or social status. Many historians believe that Irving’s account actually invented tradition by implying that it describes the true custom of the season.

 Charles Dickens’ publication of “A Christmas Carol” in 1843, along with Queen Victoria’s popularization of the Christmas tree, inspired a wave of change. By the time Mississippi recovered from the Civil War, families who could afford them began incorporating these new customs. Church services became more formal, emphasizing charity and togetherness. Christmas trees- often cedar or pine – became a household staple. Chopping down a tree and covering it with handmade decorations was something even the poorest families could afford. Strings of popcorn and cranberries were used as tree decorations. Ornaments were handmade from paper and fabric.

There is much debate about which Southern state was the first to declare Christmas a state holiday. Some sources list Georgia as being the first as early as 1831, while others cite Alabama as being the first in 1836. By 1860, 13 more states had followed suit. While it is not known when Mississippi adopted the holiday, it is believed to have happened around the same time as the others. What we do know is that it was NOT the last state to adopt the holiday; that title belongs to Oklahoma who officially declared it a legal holiday in 1907.

By the early 1900’s Mississippi had turned Christmas into a community affair. Fireworks, usually reserved for New Years and The Fourth of July, had crept their way into celebrations. Downtown squares began having caroling events, parades, and tree lightings. As the Great Depression brought lean times, towns and communities emphasized the spirit of giving, by organizing food drives and giving handmade gifts.

Radio and later television introduced Mississippians to national Christmas music, movies, and the iconic image of Santa Claus. In the 1930’s and 1940’s Coca-Cola’s marketing of Santa in his red suit helped solidify his presence in the holiday landscape of Mississippi.

Following WWII, economic growth changed what Christmas looked like in the South. Houses featured electric lights, both inside and out, and store-bought gifts replaced handmade ones. Christmas trees moved from all-natural to manufactured ones that could be stored for the rest of the year. Churches began performing plays and nativities, and local music culture, such as gospel, blues, and country, began to shape the state’s soundscape.

Contemporary Mississippians still cherish traditional elements of the holiday season, such as church services and family gatherings, and they enjoy traditional foods like cornbread dressing and pecan pie, but the season has evolved to include multicultural touches reflecting African American, Latino, Vietnamese, and others who have influenced our great state.

Every family has its own distinctive traditions. For me, growing up in South Mississippi, Christmas was a special time that we looked forward to the entire year. We spent the weeks leading up to Christmas driving around the neighborhood looking at Christmas lights. We decorated our own yard and house with lights, as well. We spent days on end cooking and baking our favorite dishes, including turkey, ham, chicken dumplings, greens, cornbread dressing, pecan pie, blueberry cobbler, tater pone, orange slice cake, and press cake. We attended local parades and the lighting of the town’s Christmas tree. Every year, we read “The Night Before Christmas.” Watching the stop-motion animation of “Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer” and “The Little Drummer Boy” was also a must.  

On Christmas Eve night, we were allowed to open one gift that our parents bought for us. It was a double celebration because my parents were married on Christmas Eve. Christmas morning was spent opening gifts at home, and then it was off to grandma’s house to eat good food and open more presents. 

These days, Christmas is a bit different for me, as I live in Australia and Christmas happens in the summer for us. A few of my holiday traditions have changed, but I have also managed to bring a bit of Mississippi tradition, culture (and food) with me Down Under. How do you and your family celebrate Christmas? What are some of the traditions that have been passed down through the generations? We’d love to hear from you!

The Grand Opera House — Meridian Mississippi

By: Natasha Mills

Ghosts have always fascinated humans. The afterlife is filled with unfathomable mysteries as well as countless opportunities for our imaginations to soar. Spirits are found in many cultures around the world, and they haunt a myriad of things, such as creepy dolls, cemeteries, and most commonly, buildings. One such structure that appears to contain a ghost or two is the Riley Center, aka The Grand Opera House, in Meridian, Mississippi.

Built in 1889 by Israel Marks and his half-brothers, Sam, Marx, and Levi Rothenberg, the opera house stood as an entertainment site for decades. Originally, the brothers intended to build a wholesale and retail mercantile store with an adjoining hotel. The retail shop was completed, but for some unknown reason, hotel construction was interrupted, and the men decided to build a grand opera house instead. The building was completed in 1890. The opera house was remodeled in 1902 and again in 1920, where it was converted in part into a movie theater. By the time of the Great Depression, the building was involved in legal issues and court battles involving lease terms. Levi Rothenberg died. The Grand Opera House was closed down. 

In 2000, the Riley Foundation made a $10 million grant for restoration. Other local, state, and federal agencies have also made donations. The final price tag was slightly under $25 million. It reopened in 2006.

It is unclear as to when the spirits of the dead first began to manifest inside the opera house, but over the years, there have been many who claim to have heard and felt their presence.  

In the 1980’s Opera House Director, Elliott Street told the story that he had once taken a girlfriend on a tour of the building, and as she stood on the stage, she claimed to feel the presence of a benevolent, female spirit who didn’t mind their presence. Elliott claimed to have experienced a cold spot on the stage, even though it was in the heat of summer. He also told the tale of a woman who asked for a tour of the Opera House and as they walked around, she admitted to sneaking into the building years before to eat her lunch on the stairs, and she had heard a lady singing. No one was in the building except her at the time. Elliott Street began to wonder if the ghost of the lady was connected to the portrait of the lady that appears above the stage of the theater, the logo of the Opera House.

There are others who believe that “The Lady”, as the spirit has been dubbed, could be the spirit of Lillie Langtry, who was an actress and vocalist of the early 1910s. Her trademark, according to the director of the Riley Centre, Dennis Sankovich, was a flower similar to that which adorns the portrait over the stage. Is it possible that the lady in the portrait is Lillie Langtry? No one seems to know. Sankovich has encountered numerous people who have experienced the presence of The Lady.

New Orleans ghost hunter Bloody Mary has visited the establishment on several occasions. She has claimed to have felt the presence of more than one spirit there. She has taken photos in which she claims to have captured orbs in them. The most impressive of the photos contained an orb that when enlarged and enhanced, seemed to contain the shape of a face. Orbs are small, perfectly circular emanations of light that dot photographs, especially ones taken at reportedly haunted sights. Bloody Mary was particularly impressed with the amount of positive energy radiated by the spirits.

One of the staff members who worked at the Opera House described their experience with the friendly spirits. He claims to have felt a hand touch his shoulder and seen flickering lightbulbs, which he felt was an attempt at communication, on the part of the ghost.

No one’s experiences with the ghost appear to be negative. Although people can’t seem to agree on who “The Lady” is, or how many ghosts actually haunt The Grand Opera House, the one thing they CAN say unanimously is that the spirits are happy.

 In a world where most ghost stories seem to contain an element of fear and negative energy, it’s nice to know that, should spirits really exist, there are some that are simply happy to continue doing the things that brought them joy while they were living.

If you have visited The Riley Center aka The Grand Opera House and have a story to tell, we would love to hear about it!

---

Resources: 

The legendary “lady” of The Grand Opera House

https://the-line-up.com/haunted-places-in-mississippi

Venue Details

https://www.wlbt.com/story/11744957/look-around-mississippi-riley-center-revived/

https://www.mississippihauntedhouses.com/real-haunt/grand-opera-house–riley-center.html

Pictures: 

Grand Opera House, Meridian

The Hauntings of Burnt Bridge Road – Purvis, Lamar County, MS

by Natasha Mills

You’re driving on a quiet country road. The darkness of night is pressing into the car windows as you navigate through a forest of pines and a sudden downpour of rain. The only sounds you can hear are drops of rain, the motion of the windshield wipers as they clear your field of vision, and the sound of your own breathing. The car’s headlights cast beams of light into empty lanes. Suddenly, you think you have seen a flash of movement. You slow the car’s acceleration even more and squint into the night. That is when you see it, a headless figure in a flowing white dress floating toward the tree line…

That scenario sounds like the opening scene of a horror movie. It couldn’t possibly happen, could it? There are those in Purvis, Mississippi, who would say that not only COULD it happen, it DID happen, and they were witnesses to it.

Purvis is the county seat of Lamar County. Its current population, as of 2024, stands at 1,955, unless of course you count ghosts residing there as well. Burnt Bridge Rd in particular seems to have a few extra residents. The bridge, which was the road’s namesake, is no more, but the ghosts of its past still reside.

 There are a few stories connected to the area, passed down through the generations, but the most prominent one is of a young couple who were either headed to or headed home from their high school prom on a rainy night. They were reportedly intoxicated and lost control of their vehicle on the slippery bridge. The car crashed and the bridge went up in flames. The male occupant of the car survived, but his date wasn’t so lucky. Her body was recovered without her head!

For years, area locals have claimed to have seen the headless woman roaming the dark road in search of her prom date, or perhaps her missing head. Some witnesses to this otherworldly phenomenon describe her as floating along the roadway in a white formal dress. Others claim that the ghost attaches herself to the roof of cars and begins to scream as the driver gets closer to the bridge.  The ghost is said to leave claw marks behind and, in some instances, has peeled back the entire roof of the car as if opening a can of sardines.

The bridge became the “go-to” area for young couples seeking a spooky thrill. Some of them soon regretted it. One teenager in the 1980s told a reporter that they had seen the bridge emit an unearthly glow and had afterwards witnessed a woman’s head floating down the creek, her hair long, wispy, and resembling white fire.

Another local, who travelled the road frequently for work, recalled seeing a blonde girl in a white dress leaning over the bridge’s railing. Fearing that the girl intended suicide, the local stopped, only to have the girl disappear before her eyes. Adding even more detail to the story, a local couple claimed to have seen the same girl and gave her a ride, only to have her disappear from inside their car.

The headless prom date isn’t the only story that offers an explanation for paranormal happenings in the area. Another tale describes a woman during WWII who would walk through the area at night, taking supplies for her husband, who was hiding in the woods to dodge the draft. She was said to have kept her head covered as she walked, hiding her identity and causing passersby to mistake her for a headless ghost. Perhaps when she died, her ghost continued to walk along the path that she used so often.

There is no concrete evidence that either of these stories actually occurred, and there is no way to prove or disprove the ghostly apparitions. It is all just speculation and tall tales; stories to frighten, to thrill, and to spark the imagination.

I have travelled to that general area many times in years past and have never had any ghostly experiences to speak of. Until recently, I had never even heard of the headless prom date. There are many who live there who will say the same. Maybe some are more attuned to the paranormal, or maybe it’s just a case of luck. 

Next time you are in the Purvis area at night, take a little side trip to Burnt Bridge Rd and keep your eyes peeled. Maybe you will be lucky enough to see the headless woman or even better… find her head.

If you have any spooky experiences related to Burnt Bridge, Burnt Bridge Road or the city of Purvis, we would love to hear about them.

El Chupacabra – Simpson, Wilkinson, and Pearl River Counties

by Trista Herring Baughman

Our story begins in the rainforests of Puerto Rico in the small municipality of Canovanas.  Here, in late 1995, a family’s goat herd is massacred–drained of their blood. This was the first of dozens of similar attacks where livestock–mostly rabbits, sheep, and goats–were found bloodless, sometimes with internal organs inexplicably missing. 

Multiple witnesses reported sightings of a creature believed to be responsible for the events. It was described as “not of this world” and depicted as a bipedal reptilian being with large red eyes on a humanoid head. The creature had sharp fangs, black hair covering its body, a crest or spikes along its back, three fingers with long, sharp claws, a pointed tongue, and nearly nonexistent ears. 

The beast was dubbed “el chupacabra,” translating to “goat sucker.”

Shortly after this incident, there were attacks and sightings all over Puerto Rico. The attacks all shared similar circumstances, with reports indicating a lack of rigor mortis in the animals. Later, other countries, including the U.S., reported cases as early as 2009,  when Unsolved Mysteries aired a segment on the creature.

In 2011 and 2013, the first sightings were reported in Mississippi, but the creature’s appearance had transmuted. It was described as doglike and hairless with a long face, rounded ears, and sharp teeth. Its back legs were often described as much longer than its front legs.

There have been reports in at least three counties including Pearl River County, Simpson County, and Wilkinson County. In two of the three cases, a creature believed to be the chupacabra was shot and killed. Mississippi Department of Wildlife and Fisheries later determined them to be coyotes with mange. 

If you’re from around these parts, you’re likely familiar with mange or “the mange” as most of us call it. It’s a skin disease caused by parasitic mites. Left untreated, affected animals lose their fur. The intense itching causes the infected animal to scratch their skin, which can result in open wounds that are prone to infection. Mange can also lead to weight loss, sluggishness, and sometimes death. It isn’t pretty, but it does not cause its victims to drink blood.

I did some research to determine whether there were only sightings of the creature in Mississippi or if there were also reports of livestock being killed. I would expect that there would be instances of livestock deaths; otherwise, it’s unclear how a connection between the two creatures could have been established. The only relevant information I found was an unattributed quote mentioning “unusual bloodless deaths of chickens and cows.” Does this imply that blood drainage occurred?

If there were blood-drained animals, what happened to them? There seem to be more questions than answers. I think this one will stay, at least for now, an unsolved mystery.