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| George Buster Singleton |
(For decades, local historian and paranormal investigator
George “Buster” Singleton published a weekly newspaper column called “Somewhere
in Time.” The column below, which was titled “Black cat, full moon woven into
ghost tale,” was originally published in the Oct. 31, 1985 edition of The Monroe Journal in
Monroeville, Ala.)
The house was different from most of the houses that I had
seen. It looked more like a small church or chapel because of the belfry that
sat on top.
The judge had been a cripple for many years prior to his
death. He was a very powerful man in local politics of the county, located in
New Mexico. Due to his physical condition, many times he would “hold court” in
the large room of his house.
The house, large as it was, had only three rooms. The large
room consisted of a huge fireplace and several benches that were built around
the walls. In the center of the room was a long table. On each side was a bench
that was the same length as the table. At the end of the table, nearest the
fireplace, was the only chair in the room. This was the judge’s chair. Here the
judge would sit and administer justice to those who came before him.
In the middle of the table, hanging down through the tall
ceiling, was a rope that ran up to the belfry. When court was in session, after
a conviction, the judge would ring the great bell, announcing his decision. The
bell could be heard all over town and out into the countryside that surrounded
the small township.
The rest of the house consisted of a large bedroom, where
the judge slept, and a small kitchen.
The story is that all the judge’s activities centered around
the large table in front of the fireplace. His housekeeper served his meals to
him at the large table.
Over the fireplace, above the great mantle that was carved
out of a giant cottonwood tree, hung a large painting of the judge. Many years
after the judge’s death, one could enter the room and the eyes of the painting
were upon you. It seemed that everywhere you went, the eyes of the judge would
follow as you moved from one location in the room to another.
Rumor had it that the judge had left a considerable amount
of money. Some of it was to be used to maintain the house and grounds. This was
not done; the house and yard were in shambles. The house and the rest of his
fortune would be claimed by his nephew at some later date.
The judge’s housekeeper had been dead for several years. The
only remaining life around the judge’s house was a very large black cat. This
cat had been seen in the large room many times, sitting in the judge’s chair.
The eyes of the cat covered the room, as did the eyes of the judge from the
painting above the mantle over the huge fireplace.
No one knew how the large cat survived; some speculated that
it lived off the many rats and mice that were abundant within the shadows of
the judge’s house.
One evening late, a man walked into town and announced that
he was the judge’s nephew. He was shown to the old house. All he carried was a
few items of old clothing that were packed in an old, dirty sack.
Nothing was seen of the judge’s nephew for the next few
days. Sometimes at night, a small flickering lamp could be seen near the window
of the large room, near the judge’s chair.
Late one night during the last days of October, as patches
of clouds passed across the face of the full moon that created a ghostly effect
over the small town, the huge bell that hung in the belfry of the judge’s house
began to ring.
Louder and louder it rang, as though someone was jerking
hard on the old rope that hung above the huge table. The sounds of the great
bell echoed through the streets and buildings of the small town. People awoke,
many jumping out of bed and running half-dressed to the judge’s house on the
edge of town.
The sounds of the bell had ceased by the time the first of
the townspeople reached the house. All was quiet within the house. A small lamp
flickered on the huge mantle, casting a weird light on the painting and the
eyes of the judge. The large black cat sat at the head of the table in the
judge’s chair, looking up at the long, frayed rope that ran through the ceiling
to the belfry, and from which the body of the judge’s nephew hung…
The old house is gone now. Two nights later in the wee hours
of darkness, the judge’s house burned. Those who witnessed the end of the old
landmark said that the huge bell continued to ring as the house was burning,
and the structure of the belfry crumbled in the flames.
Even now, late at night when the clouds pass across the face
of the full moon, the sounds of the old bell can be heard on the evening winds.
And some say that the eyes of the judge and the eyes of the cat can sometimes
still be seen as they stare from the rubble of what was the fireplace, and the
judge’s chair.
(Singleton, the author of the 1991 book “Of Foxfire and
Phantom Soldiers,” passed away at the age of 79 on July 19, 2007. A longtime
resident of Monroeville, he was born on Dec. 14, 1927 in Marengo County and
served as the administrator of the Monroeville National Guard unit from 1964 to
1987. He is buried in Pineville Cemetery in Monroeville. The column above and
all of Singleton’s other columns are available to the public through the
microfilm records at the Monroe County Public Library in Monroeville.
Singleton’s columns are presented here each week for research and scholarship
purposes and as part of an effort to keep his work and memory alive.)
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