Wednesday, November 6, 2002

I was 14 years old when my family and I moved to Fayette County. Of course everybody thinks that I am pulling their leg whenever I mentioned the "Peter's Road" story. I was so glad to see that after years of sharing my story about the things my friends and I had seen on Peter's Road that someone else acknowledged strange happenings on Peter's Road.

My brother Joe, who now resides in Melbourne, Fla., was just here last weekend for a visit and sat around a campfire roasting marshmallows and telling ghost stories to my three kids. Of course he had to tell the "Peter's Woods" story, which is what we called it instead of Peter's Road.

Joe told my kids that the story he told them was very true. I think it kind of scared my two youngest kids, Kaylee and Cody. But my oldest daughter Mandy, my stepmom Gail and my father Dee laughed about it with a big, "Yeah, right, that's what they all say after a good ghost story."

Thank you, Mr. Lexington, for sharing your story about Peter's Road. Now my dad and stepmom want to visit Peter's Woods. My oldest daughter Mandy is still skeptical about it, but now is curious since she read your article. My side of the story is somewhat different, but as far as the cemetery goes, I have been there myself and seen it. So to all you readers, buckle down and enjoy my story.

About a year after we had moved to Fayette County, some friends of ours told us a little about some creepy things that they had heard about Peter's Road and wanted to know if we wanted to go and visit there. I was a little scared but I went. It was on a rainy day. There was a car-sized trail leading back into the woods off of Peter's Road. It was so creepy, even though it was daylight.

We drove some distance into the woods until we finally saw some things hanging from a tree limb. We stopped the car and got out to observe what we had spotted with our eyes. Which it turned out to be [were] old, tattered woman's underwear. We got close enough to them to see dark smudge prints on them that we thought was blood.

I was really getting antsy and wanted to turn back. The others were laughing and said, "Somebody is probably living back here." Then on another tree we saw other objects hanging from it that we never could figure out what they were. Then we saw a part of an old shredded rope on the ground and above it on a limb was the other part.

One of the group that we were with wanted to keep following the trail. And so we did. And came upon some headstones on which the writing was illegible. Some of them were broken off on the corners. I was really scared then, and I said, "Let's go back to the car and get out of here." I think the others were scared too. I know my sister Cindy was because she agreed with me.

As we were all running back to the car, it started to really pour down rain, along with thunder and lightning. Everybody at once heard the strangest sound that sounded like someone screaming from far away. My brother Joe said, "It's just a wildcat." But nobody believed him.

We got into the car and locked the doors, and headed back off the trail. But midway back to the road we got stuck. All I could think about is all of the horror movies I have seen this very same thing happen in. Everybody's adrenaline was pumping so hard that nobody wanted to get out of the car to get it unstuck, except for good ol' brother Joe. I thought that we would never get out of there, but thank God we did.

A couple of weeks later I and some of my friends, along with my brother Joe, again were headed to a party and had to turn down that road. This time it was extremely dark outside. We came across the one and only bridge on that road and someone yelled, "Stop, go back. Did y'all see that?"

So we put the truck in reverse and backed up on the bridge. Everybody looked to the right and saw this big weird-shaped thing that looked like a deformed head with green eyes. We all freaked out and left there quick.

After that night we were told that what we had seen were water heads that live under that bridge. Whatever those are. But one thing is for sure, I haven't been back down that road at night time since that night about 20 years ago, and I don't make a habit to go down it during the day, especially if it is raining.

I know it sounds a little farfetched, but we were told that a man named "Peter" killed himself in those woods and it has been haunted ever since. It made a true believer out of me, that is for sure. I will never be brave enough to go back into those woods again.

I hope that you enjoyed my story. If you want to try and visit there, all I can say is, good luck! If anybody else has other information about Peter's Road or Peter's Woods, please share it with me.

Holly Spivey

Fayetteville

just4holly@earthlink.net