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A Connecticut Ghost Story

retold by

S. E. Schlosser

He smiled as he sipped at his coffee. It had been an excellent hike. He was glad his friend had recommended coming to the Hanging Hills in Connecticut; not the first place that had come to his mind when considering a vacation. But it was beautiful here. When his friend arrived tomorrow they would tackle some of the more challenging terrain.

"Did you have a nice hike?" asked the innkeeper as she refilled his cup.

"Yes indeed. I had some unexpected company," he said with a smile.

"Really? I thought you were the only one crazy enough to go hiking in the rain," she teased.

"It was a little black dog," he said. "Cute fellow. Followed me all the way up the mountain and down again."

He looked up from his coffee to see the innkeeper's face had gone pale.

"A black dog?" she asked. "That's not good."

"Why not?"

"We have a saying around here," she replied. "'And if a man shall meet the Black Dog once, it shall be for joy; and if twice, it shall be for sorrow; and the third time, he shall die.'" He laughed. "That's just superstition."

"That's what Mr. Pynchon said. He saw the black dog twice. The second time he saw the dog, the friend he was climbing with fell to his death. And later, Mr. Pynchon decided to climb the same mountain, and he died too. Everyone here believes he saw the dog just before he fell."

"Nonsense. It was just a cute stray," he said uneasily. She shrugged and took the coffee pot over to her other customers.

His friend arrived the next morning and they both laughed about the story of the black dog. They set out on their climb. About halfway up the mountain, he looked up and saw the black dog.

"There's the dog," he called to his friend.

And then his foot slipped and he plunged down the side of the hill, desperately grabbing at saplings and rocks, trying to halt his descent. It seemed to take forever for him to stop sliding. There was a stabbing pain in his leg. When he looked at it, his head swimming, it was bent at an odd angle. They had to send in a mountain rescue team to get him down. At the hospital, they told him his leg was broken in two places and he was very lucky it wasn't worse.

"You know, that was a very strange fall," said his friend uneasily. "You don't really think it had anything to do with that black dog?"

He looked down at the cast that extended all the way up to his hip.

"I don't know. But I don't really want to find out. Next time, let's go to Colorado."

His friend agreed.
You can read a longer version of this spooky Connecticut ghost story in Spooky New England by S.E. Schlosser.

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A Connecticut Ghost Story retold by S. E. Schlosser He smiled as he sipped at his coffee. It had been an excellent hike. He was glad his friend had recommended coming to the Hanging Hills in Connecticut; not the first place that had come to his mind when considering a vacation.

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If you live near Meriden, then you've probably heard the legend of the Black Dog of the Hanging Hills. Here's the full story of this Connecticut myth.

"If you meet the Black Dog once, it shall be for joy; if twice, it shall be for sorrow; and the third time shall bring death." -W.H.C. Pynchon

The legend of the Black Dog has been told by those living near the Hanging Hills of Meriden for over 100 years. Those who claim to have seen the dog describe it as a supernatural creature who supposedly leaves no footprints and remains completely silent as it travels along the ridges of Meriden's Hubbard Park. At least six deaths have been blamed on third meetings with the Black Dog.

History of The Black Dog

One of the earliest accounts of the dog was published in the Connecticut Quarterly, (April-June, 1898) by New York geologist W.H.C. Pynchon. According to Pynchon, in February 1891 he and geologist Herbert Marshall of the USGS were conducting geologic research in the Hanging Hills when they saw the dog.

But this was not the first time for either man. Years earlier, while Pynchon was studying some rocks near the Merimere Reservoir, he happened to notice a little dog standing on a boulder nearby. When Pynchon finally moved on, the friendly little dog trotted eagerly alongside him all the way up to the West Peak and later down into Southington, where Pynchon entered a restaurant for lunch.

Later, the dog began following Pynchon back to his hotel, but by the time the two got back to the spot where they originally met, the dog was suddenly gone. Pynchon whistled for his new found sidekick, but the little dog seemed to have vanished into thin air.

Marshall, who had seen the dog twice before, scoffed at the legend. While the two men were studying a rock formation near the ledge of a cliff, they noticed the dog approaching them; wagging its tail excitedly without making a sound. As the dog drew closer, Marshall slipped on the ice and plunged to his death.

His body was later recovered by authorities. This was the 3rd time Marshall had seen the dog, and the second time for Pynchon. Reports of the Black Dog continue to circulate today.

Hubbard Park and Castle Craig

If you decide you'd like to go in search for The Black Dog of The Hanging Hills (though, seriously, why would you?) then you should be sure to check out the rest of Hubbard Park.

It's surprisingly large for being in the middle of urban Meriden (roughly 1,800 acres), and is beautiful in it's wooded and mountainous scenery. It's "centerpiece" so to say, Mirror Lake, is a popular destination for picnics, family outings, and romantic strolls.

On the east peak, is a tower called Castle Craig, which was built to resemble the towers that the Turks built along the Danube River 12th-century Europe. An observation area at the top of the tower is accessible by stairs and offers amazing views of the whole park (perfect for trying to spot the mysterious black dog).

Though the park is free and open to the public year-round, it is at it's best from March to October (it gets chilly in the winter!). You can find the entrance at 199 Notch Road, Meriden. You can read more about the park here, and a map of the area and trails can be found here. Just keep your eyes peeled for any suspicious little dogs!
Note: This post was originally published in June of 2008, but has been updated for accuracy and style.

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Go Searching for the Legendary Black Dog of the Hanging Hills

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If you live near Meriden, then you've probably heard the legend of the Black Dog of the Hanging Hills. Here's the full story of this Connecticut myth. "If you meet the Black Dog once, it shall be for joy; if twice, it shall be for sorrow; and the third time shall bring death."

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November, 2008 by Ray Bendici

The Damned Story: Animal lovers, beware! Looming over the city of Meriden are the scenic Hanging Hills, allegedly the highest spot on the East Coast that's within 25 miles of the shoreline. A range of rocky peaks created by an ancient lava flow, they have drawn countless visitors over the years to Hubbard Park thanks to their rugged beauty and spectacular views. The distinctive Castle Craig (yes, that castle thingy you see from I-691) is a century-old stone observation tower and sits atop East Peak, over 1,000 feet above sea level. On a clear day, you can literally see from Long Island Sound to the south all the way to the foothills of the Berkshires in Massachusetts to the north. But it's not the panaromic beauty you see from Castle Craig that's the problem. It's the supernatural canine of West Peak that can cause you despair -- and possibly death -- if it comes your way. Over the years, people have told of encounters with a small, vaguely spaniel-like, short-haired black dog. Often, it is described as having come out of nowhere, and despite its sad eyes, being quite happy to have human companionship. Like any good phantom, it leaves no footprints and makes no sound when it barks or howls, yet it leaves quite an impression. For it is said of the Black Dog:"If a man shall meet the Black Dog once, it shall be for joy; and if twice, it shall be for sorrow; and the third time, he shall die." As you might expect, there are numerous tales of those who have met their end after seeing the Black Dog a third time -- it wouldn't be a proper legend if there wasn't, right? Stories of the Black Dog's victims go back as far as the 1800s; as many as a half dozen people are believed to have been cursed to death by the creature, including as recently as the 1970s. Our Damned Experience: I've hiked stretches of the Metacomet Trail, which runs through Hubbard Park, and have visited both peaks as well as Castle Craig. I can't recall ever having seen a black dog in my visits, but I do know that the Hanging Hills can be a hazardous hike if you don't pay attention -- there are dramatic elevation changes, deep gorges and treacherous rock formations, all of which can be quite treacherous even under ideal conditions. It's not hard to picture someone getting seriously hurt or killed while hiking, especially if they are distracted by a friendly dog and don't watch their step. If You Go: Hubbard Park is open to the public year-round and offers over 50 miles of blue-blazed hiking trails. For the lazy, a road runs up the Hanging Hills between East and West Peak and right to Castle Craig, and is open during daylight hours from April to October. Make sure whenever you visit to bring a camera -- if you don't see the Black Dog, you'll at least get some great images from a gorgeous vantage point. By the way, as far as we know, the Black Dog of Meriden is not related to the " Black Dog" of Led Zeppelin fame. Although with spectral creatures, one can never be sure. View Hubbard Park in a larger map

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Animal lovers, beware! Over the years, people have told of encounters with a small, vaguely spaniel-like, short-haired black dog. Often, it is described as having come out of nowhere, and despite its sad eyes, being quite happy to have human companionship.

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legend of the black dog hubbard park castle craig

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The Legend of the Black Dog - Meriden CT

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Diane Smith of Action News 8 describes the origin of the "Legend of the Black Dog" from Meriden CT. Video complements of Chuck King who is shown climbing with his father Roger King. Chuck's dog "Chaos" stars as the Black Dog and ECSU Professor David Philips and Warren Gardner are interviewed...circa 1982.

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Truckers love to tell stories. The seasoned vets especially love to booger newbies with awful tales, full of ghastly appearances and cops who tell them to run over parked cars or be issued tickets. You can't get truckers to agree on much of anything other than their urban legends, and even those have endless variations, depending on what part of the country you happen to be in. As it turns out, most of these stories have origins rooted firmly in ancient tales that have been told for hundreds of years.

Everyone on the road has heard the "Legend of the Black Dog." The black dog supposedly comes when a truck driver has been driving too long and starts to fall asleep at the wheel. He or she will see the ghoul running toward the truck, just before the crash. The apparition causes the driver to steer off the road, or into traffic, and results in an accident that kills the truck driver or an innocent person.

The origins of the black dog are difficult to pin down, though in various pieces of European mythology dogs have been associated with death. Their scavenging habits may attribute to these beliefs, as well as the fact that black dogs are seen almost universally as malevolent. It's possible the black dog legend is a throwback to a belief held by couriers of freight as far back as Egyptian times.

The vanishing hitchhiker is the story of a hitchhiker who has died in a terrible accident and returns in ghostly form to the scene. In some versions of the legend, a truck driver will stop to pick the hitchhiker up and take them to their designated location. When dropped off, the hitchhiker leaves some kind of personal article on the truck, like a sweater or a book bag. The driver will return the object to the place they dropped the hitchhiker off, only to be told the owner of the personal item is a child or friend of whoever lives there and they've been dead for some time, due to a tragic accident on whichever road the trucker picked them up on.

In the song "Phantom 309," Red Sovine sings about thumbing a ride with a trucker who tells him to make sure the people at the truck stop he drops him off at know who sent him. When Red informs the truck stop crowd of his driver, a waiter tells him the story of a driver who died after crashing his rig to avoid a school bus full of kids at the intersection he was picked up at. The waiter tells the hiker that he wasn't the first; the ghost of Big Joe had been known to pick up other hitchhikers over the years.

Sovine also recorded "Bringing Mary Home," in which he picks up a young woman standing by the road on a stormy night, only to have her disappear before he reaches the address she gives him. Her mother answers the door and tells him that he is the 13th man who has come to her, bringing Mary home.

According to folklorists, the vanishing hitchhiker/driver stories may have evolved from earlier European yarns, usually about travelers on horseback. A version of the story actually appears in the Bible (Acts 8:26-39), wherein an Ethiopian driving a chariot picks up the Apostle Philip, who baptizes him and disappears. As time rolled on and the story continued to be told, the chariots, wagons and horseback of yesteryear became the big rigs of today.

Truckers can also be the heroes of urban legends. In one such story, a nasty biker gang harasses a trucker in a restaurant. The trucker says nothing, pays his bill and leaves. One biker brags to the proprietor, "He wasn't much of a man, was he?" Looking out the window, the owner says, "No, he's not much of a driver either. He just backed over your bikes."

This basic plot line shows up in our favorite trucking movies like Smokey and the Bandit and Every Which Way But Loose, and versions of the story have been set in the United States, Canada and Great Britain. Rather than preach the Christian message of "turn the other cheek," these stories encourage temporary meekness, only to strike back against the prized possessions of the tormentor. Again, there are several European legends involving the same methods, dating back hundreds of years.

Reports of spirits leading truckers to safety are varied and different versions develop as they are told by different drivers. One particularly inspiring story involves a young man, fairly new to trucking, who gets hung up in a blinding snowstorm in the Kansas flat lands. Just as he's about to pull over and stop on what he hopes is the side of the road, someone comes on the CB who sounds remarkably like his deceased father (who had also been a trucker) and tells him to follow the taillights, which he des, and they lead him safely to a truck stop. The guy grabs his jacket and jumps out of the truck to tell the other driver thank you, and even though there were two sets of tracks in the snow, his is the only truck around.

Soldiers in battle often relate these types of experiences, either being warned of danger or directed away from danger by familiar spirits who have passed. The Vikings had tales of the Goddess Vor (meaning "careful one" or "aware"), who assisted in their conquests by warning of treachery and ill-will before it befell them.

Mark Twain said, "There is no such thing as a new idea. It is impossible. We simply take a lot of old ideas and put them into a sort of mental kaleidoscope. We give them a turn and they make new and curious combinations. We keep on turning and making new combinations indefinitely; but they are the same old pieces of colored glass that have been in use through all the ages."

The same holds true for our legends and stories, which is why they continue to be told throughout the ages of time. So beware, newbies, you're not the first and you won't be the last to hear about Large Marge....

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How old is that story, bro?: Trucking tales, legends, ghosts

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Truckers love to tell stories. The seasoned vets especially love to booger newbies with awful tales, full of ghastly appearances and cops who tell them to run over parked cars or be issued tickets.