Across the spectrum of classically inspired national and regional local art, from paintings to sculpture, and masks, there is a long and still very active history of the presence of the demonic.
Why? Is this art religious? How did something with such strong stigma in the West become so ubiquitous here? To answer these questions, you have to look at both Mexican art history and the cultures of the country’s many regions.
The presence of the devil in traditionally Mexican-made masks is far from traditional to Mexico, and actually came about as a result of Mexico’s conquest. The Spanish were able to completely change the economic structure of Mexico, slaughtering livestock and stealing land, but they weren’t able to eradicate the native practices completely. When the indigenous dances they tried to eradicate continued, the Spanish changed course and decided instead to co-opt the traditions, applying Catholic figures to the masks that once portrayed native gods. The devil, who sometimes appears painted black and red as inspired by a night god called Tezcatlipoca, was one of them.
The use of natural clay for these masks as well as diablitos, sculptures made popular in Michoacan by a sort of outlaw artist figure by the name of Marcelino Vicente, was a natural choice for an economically depleted country with plenty of clay available as a free and natural resource. Natural clays continue to be used, and molds are used instead of pottery wheels, just as they were 500 years ago.
Despite the longstanding traditional methods used for making these sculptures, the story of the diablito figurines and tableaus, which can still be found today, depicting flesh-eating devils as well as symbols of current events, is a much more modern one.
In the town of Ocumicho, in Michoacan, these sculpted scenes that have been said to resemble the nightmare scenes painted by Hieronymus Bosch began to appear in the 1960s. While now embraced, it wasn’t until Vicente took them to neighboring towns to sell that they began to draw positive attention and buyers at the open-air markets that became common as people looked for new ways to sustain themselves after the Mexican Revolution.
Back in Michoacan, his lifestyle was uncommon, his subject matter was unwelcome, but thanks to appreciators of his new style – specifically people like Francisco Mendoza of Fonart, a government folk-art agency that gave Vicente his first major gallery show, he was able to pioneer and establish an art form in a short five-year span, prior to being beaten to death at a bar the weekend before Dia de lo Muertos.
The artisan groups that he formed, men and women who worked together despite strict social rules that only allowed socialization between men and women related by blood or through godparents, meant that people directly trained by Vicente would be able to continue to craft his diablitos and teach the next generation to do it as well. Today you can find work in this style at Mexican markets, souvenir shops, and even galleries in and beyond Michoacan, and in places such as San Antonio in the US!
Ashley Jones is an arts writer and creative, currently based in San Pancho, Mexico. Her work appears in publications such as Dovetail Magazine, and catalogues for galleries including the Pollock Gallery in Dallas, TX. She is currently co-writing the 13th edition of Friend of The Artist, and critically analyzing real-life horror in an upcoming piece for the UK-based site The Final Girls,and can be found on Twitter here.
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Maine is no stranger to grisly horror stories and urban legends. From tombstones displaying spectral images to a gruesome, lighthouse-based tale of murder, those searching for a bone-chilling kick will certainly find what they’re looking for in this New England state. There is one area of Maine, however, that sticks out as the most haunted and disturbed in the whole state. An unassuming stretch of Route 2a known as the Haynesville Woods is a route that most Mainers would recommend you avoid, and for very good reason – The Ghost Bride of Haynesville Woods.
“It’s a stretch of road up north in Maine That’s never ever ever seen a smile If they’d buried all them truckers lost in them woods There’d be a tombstone every mile”
From A Tombstone Every Mile by Dick Curless
The History of Haynesville’s Treacherous Roads
Haynesville, Maine was first reached by settlers in 1828, and by 1832 a road was completed between that and a military post in Houlton to allow for easy transportation of supplies. Before I-95 was built, this part of the road was also heavily used by trucks bringing Maine’s potato harvest out of the state. The road exists today in infamy, as one of the most haunted roads in Maine. Even Dick Curless’ aforementioned song describes the great numbers of truckers who have died along that stretch, hence the name ‘A Tombstone Every Mile’. This is no surprise given the treacherous nature of the road, buried deep in the woods with low lighting and as much as 90 degree turns to keep the most seasoned of truck drivers on their toes.
Haynesville Woods Urban Legends
There are several legends regarding the Haynesville Woods road, most notable of which being a story of a particularly distraught young woman. So the story goes, the woman has been seen stranded by the roadside, running and waving manically to the passing cars. When drivers stop to ask if she is okay, she will explain that she and her husband were in a horrific car wreck on the day of their wedding and desperately need help. When drivers offer a ride, the woman is said to accept, and those who do have reported to have felt a bitter chill in the air as she entered their vehicle. She directs them to the end of the road, whereupon she disappears completely, leaving nothing but a wintery bite to the air around the passenger seat.
Enthusiasts have deciphered that this story concerns the case of a newlywed couple who crashed in Haynesville woods on their wedding night. The groom tragically died instantly while the bride, perhaps even more tragically, managed to walk to the end of the road before succumbing to the biting winter cold, and ultimately freezing to death.
Another story is told involving young girls in need of help on the roadside, similar to the spectral bride. Much like the bride, the girls, sometimes seen singularly and sometimes as a pair, disappear from helpful passerby’s cars once they reach the end of the road. In 1967 two young girls were reported to have been struck and killed by a tractor trailer, though whether this tragedy was enough to spark a new urban legend or whether those girls still haunt the road to this day is another matter altogether.
Joe first knew he wanted to write in year six after plaguing his teacher’s dreams with a harrowing story of World War prisoners and an insidious ‘book of the dead’. Clearly infatuated with horror, and wearing his influences on his sleeve, he dabbled in some smaller pieces before starting work on his condensed sci-fi epic, System Reset in 2013.Once this was published he began work on many smaller horror stories and poems in bid to harness and connect with his own fears and passions and build on his craft. Joe is obsessed with atmosphere and aesthetic, big concepts and even bigger senses of scale, feeding on cosmic horror of the deep sea and vastness of space and the emotions these can invoke. His main fixes within the dark arts include horror films, extreme metal music and the bleakest of poetry and science fiction literature. He holds a deep respect for plot, creative flow and the context of art, and hopes to forge deeper connections between them around filmmakers dabbling in the dark and macabre.
Deer Island sits just offshore from the coast of Mississippi. It’s maintained by the Mississippi Coastal Preserve and it’s 400 acres are home to the great blue heron as well as ten different rare or endangered species. If seen from the nearby beaches of historical Biloxi, one would hardly assume this undeveloped paradise for boating and beach recreation is also home to some of the state’s most haunting urban legends – The Ghost of Deer Island.
One of the legends tells of a supernatural occurrence from centuries prior. The “Firewater Ghost”, as it became known, was a mysterious blue light that people would see roaming Biloxi Bay between Biloxi and Ocean Springs. One sighting, from back in 1892, describes a luminescent ball hovering about a foot over the water’s surface. It’s believed to be a restless sentry protecting the bay.
Legend of the Headless Ghost
The most famous urban legend from the area concerns a headless ghost that haunts the island. As the story goes, two fishermen happened upon the island back in the 1800s. They explored and decided to camp for the night. Later that evening, while tending to their fire, they heard rustling noises coming from the bushes. They assumed the raucous was caused by wild hogs, but when it didn’t let up they went to investigate. Imagine their surprise when a headless skeleton jumped out of the palmetto bushes and chased them all the way back to their boat! They returned to the spot the next morning, but the creature had vanished without a trace.
This particular story was first documented in a 1922 article written by local author and historian A.G. Ragusin for the Sun Herald. His primary source for the article, appropriately titled “Headless Ghost Haunted Deer Island In Olden Times”, was Captain Eugene Tiblier, Sr., who had lived in the area his entire life. But he also had the story verified by other fishermen who had visited the island and experienced similar sightings. In all instances, the men were confronted with a terrifying bone man before narrowly escaping his clutches, and this infamy has earned him the title of “Ghost of Deer Island”.
Fact or Fiction?
This legend of a headless haunt appears to originate from an even older source. According to an old pirate tale, a pirate captain once steered his ship to Deer Island in order to hide a large amount of treasure. Once the gold was buried, the captain asked for volunteers to stay behind and guard it. One of the crew members volunteered, not realizing that this participation would involve cutting off his head so that his ghost could guard the hidden riches instead (the captain assumed his eagerness was due to the fact that he wanted the treasure for himself when everyone left). His head was hung in a tree and his body laid to rest nearby, allowing his ghost to be sole protector of the loot.
Despite the grisly account, and the few eyewitness accounts from long ago, there hasn’t been much in the way of recent sightings. But the legend is still entertaining, and it remains a favorite piece of lore for the area. And who knows? The alleged treasure has never been found and could still be out there. Perhaps one day soon a happy go lucky tourist, sailor, or fisherman will cross the wrong spot at the wrong time and come face-to-skeleton with…the Ghost of Deer Island.
Ben’s love for horror began at a young age when he devoured books like the Goosebumps series and the various scary stories of Alvin Schwartz. Growing up he spent an unholy amount of time binge watching horror films and staying up till the early hours of the morning playing games like Resident Evil and Silent Hill. Since then his love for the genre has only increased, expanding to include all manner of subgenres and mediums. He firmly believes in the power of horror to create an imaginative space for exploring our connection to each other and the universe, but he also appreciates the pure entertainment of B movies and splatterpunk fiction.
Nowadays you can find Ben hustling his skills as a freelance writer and editor. When he’s not building his portfolio or spending time with his wife and two kids, he’s immersing himself in his reading and writing. Though he loves horror in all forms, he has a particular penchant for indie authors and publishers. He is a proud supporter of the horror community and spends much of his free time reviewing and promoting the books/comics you need to be reading right now!
Other than perhaps the Shanghai Tunnels in Portland, Oregon—the Grand Lodge located in Forest Grove, Oregon is known as one of the most haunted places in the state.
History of the McMenamin’s Grand Lodge
The Grand Lodge sits on approximately thirteen acres of park-like land, which has an old school brick lodge sitting right in the center. The Grand Lodge was originally constructed as a Masonic Lodge in 1922, featuring the iconic white columns, marble accents, tons of natural light, hardwood floors, and fireplaces. When the McMenamin’s restored the building, they filled it with furniture, added stained glass, original ironwork, and artwork by local talent. This historical monument to rich splendor, it boasts more than just guest rooms and a very nice restaurant with bars; it also features a spa, a soaking pool, a billiards room, and a movie theater. Other than these lavish features, the main building has multiple parlor rooms with fireplaces, comfortable couches, and a table to play board games. Aside from the main building, there is a Children’s Cottage—which exists because the adult residents of the lodge preferred that the Mason’s orphans to live in separate quarters—and a Masonic Museum, for the days in which it was used as a Masonic Lodge.
The Haunting of the Grand Lodge
Every bedside table in the Grand Lodge comes with complimentary earplugs because there is no room in the entire lodge where people didn’t complain about unidentifiable noises in the night. One particular guest reports that they had a set of keys that inexplicably disappeared—at first believed it to be absent-mindedness—then they all-but turned over their entire room in search of them only to discover that they were still nowhere to be found. The keys reappeared miraculously on their bedside table, which only the night before was completely bare. They reported their experiences to the lodge’s staff, they were told they were one of several of such similar reports—they were even allowed to borrow a binder that was full of witness statements to learn more about all of the ghostly experiences that had occurred inside of those walls.
So it’s true that the McMenamin’s Grand Lodge in Forest Grove is supposedly haunted, but what you may not realize is that there is another McMenamin’s location that is haunted as well! The White Eagle Saloon—the other McMenamin’s location—is home to a couple of apparitions, the ghost of an old housekeeper and Rose, the prostitute that was killed by one of her lovers.
Georgia-based author and artist, Mary has been a horror aficionado since the mid-2000s. Originally a hobby artist and writer, she found her niche in the horror industry in late 2019 and hasn’t looked back since. Mary’s evolution into a horror expert allowed her to express herself truly for the first time in her life. Now, she prides herself on indulging in the stuff of nightmares.
Mary also moonlights as a content creator across multiple social media platforms—breaking down horror tropes on YouTube, as well as playing horror games and broadcasting live digital art sessions on Twitch.
In the Historic Fort Stevens State Park, you can probably expect to run into the ghost of a soldier who patrols the area at night with a flashlight. There have been so many stories recounting the encounters that witnesses have had with this fallen soldier, who, when approached ends up disappearing into thin air.
Located on-site at the far end of the battery is the Pacific Rim Peace Memorial, which commemorates the American and Japanese soldiers that were involved in the attack on Fort Stevens and called for everlasting peace between these two countries. Despite its importance in the defense of the Columbia River, it was never a favored station of the soldiers who ended up there; it got the unfortunate name of Squirrelsville, due to the fact that many soldiers didn’t want to stay there, possibly because of the quickly built soldiers quarters, and because of the rotations in and out every few days. It wasn’t until after the attack on Pearl Harbor in World War II that Battery Russel was manned full-time.
The Attack on Fort Stevens During World War II
In 1942 on June 21st, at 11:30 pm, an enemy Japanese I-25 submarine attacked Fort Stevens, it had somehow gotten through the mouth of the Columbia River and resurfaced just ten miles offshore. It began its attack by firing haphazardly towards the fort. Fortunately for the soldiers who manned Battery Russel, only a few of the submarine’s missiles landed near to their station, they held their ground and their fire—while the missile fire didn’t injure anyone, it did scare the local population. This led the local communities to set up a citizens patrol, they strung barbed wire up and down Clatsop Beach and even through the Wreck of the Peter Iredale. Oddly enough, this unsuccessful attack was the only action that Fort Stevens saw during the Second World War. This also made it the only mainland military base in the United States to be fired upon since the War of 1812 in which Canadians burned down the White House.
The Function of Battery Russel
One of nine batteries at Fort Stevens, Battery Russel was active for forty years, from 1904 to 1944, where Fort Stevens itself was in active service for eighty-four years, from the beginning of the Civil War all the way through World War II. It was named after Brevet Major General David Russel who fought during the Civil War. While it once protected the mouth of the Columbia River, it was one of three forts that created the Triangle of Fire—the other two being Fort Columbia and Fort Canby in Washington. This three-sided defense made it nearly impossible for enemy boats to go undetected into the Columbia River.
Photography by Gary Halvorson, Oregon State Archives
While there are many batteries at Fort Stevens, Battery Russel is one of the few that is open to the public to explore—literature is available on location that educates anyone, who is willing to look into a piece of our past, about the purposes of each of the rooms, as well as the history of the battery itself. There are two levels to this particular battery, the lower of which contains old ammunition rooms, offices, guardrooms, as well as storage facilities. The upper level is where the old gun pit is located, it housed two 10-inch disappearing guns; these guns would retract from view while soldiers reloaded, which provided ample cover from attacking enemies and each gun required a thirty-five man team in order to run.
Even though Battery Russel is an entirely unsupervised location it is well maintained, people are free to explore the historic battery; there is no electricity, so visits during the day are well-light by natural sunlight, but the lower level can become quite dark, so you’re better off carrying a flashlight if you insist on exploring for ghosts.
What is truly curious about this haunting is that no soldiers actually died at Battery Russel, Fort Stevens during World War II, but seeing as it was active during the Civil War, it is believed that he could have been a soldier that passed during that time.
Georgia-based author and artist, Mary has been a horror aficionado since the mid-2000s. Originally a hobby artist and writer, she found her niche in the horror industry in late 2019 and hasn’t looked back since. Mary’s evolution into a horror expert allowed her to express herself truly for the first time in her life. Now, she prides herself on indulging in the stuff of nightmares.
Mary also moonlights as a content creator across multiple social media platforms—breaking down horror tropes on YouTube, as well as playing horror games and broadcasting live digital art sessions on Twitch.
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