One hundred years ago graves were moved to accommodate the new WarehousePoint/Rockville trolley line. The locals’ bore the burden of this untimely relocation, experiencing some very strange “goings-on” that caused many to leave the area.  However, at some point over the years, all seemed to finally settle down. Now a trolley barn will be built and these graves have been disturbed for a second time. The local residents have been experiencing “terrible happenings”. DO YOU DARE TO RIDE THE RAILS TO THE DARKSIDE? Will you return safely or will you be among the unlucky ones who are never seen again! Can your heart take the strain... will you survive the night, and if you do – can you, will you, ever be the same person?

"Rails to the Darkside" returns after a 10 year hiatus, bigger and better than ever. Relive the scariest ride of your youth. Bring you family to experience the legendary "Rails to the Darkside" that lives on in the memories of those who have experienced it.

Adult - 15 years of age and older

$10.00

Member - $5.00

Youth - 4 to 14 years of age

$6.00

Member - $3.00

LEGEND OF THE HAUNTING

This account of the haunting of the WarehousePoint line is divulged and sworn to be accurate by Mr. Sol Winetrauser, local historian and renowned raconteur.

The area, now known as East Windsor, was once a sparsely populated farming community made up of loose knit intra-relations whose forbearers had settled the land in the sixteen hundreds or there abouts – most wanting to stay as far away from the heavier populated Hartford Town as possible - still seems that way sometimes.

When the new trolley line was being built from the booming Warehouse Point district on the Connecticut River, the aim was to reach far off Rockville, which was dead east and had a somewhat more dense population, at least compared to the Point. Trouble started when the rail line, which was to follow old route 140 as closely as possible, was laid out over a centuries old cemetery. Naturally the poor folks that had been laid to rest there would have to be dug up and moved, as best as possible - now that was, and is, no easy task we might add! The builders of the railway took neither pity nor piety upon the remains and hurriedly moved as many as they thought necessary to clear the track right of way. Well sir, not everyone was moved properly and, in addition, no one thought to bless the new ground in any manner of speaking. There we have - we believe - the key to what was to become the beginning of what the locals called, and still do: “The Month of the Hard Knocks”.

October became the most dreaded month of the year not only because the winter was beginning to settle in but for the strange happenings or “The Incidents” as some have called them. The old timers recollect that with the sun going down so early, night kind of fell hard and fast, especially toward the last days of the month.

Business had to be done quickly and the locals and their families needed to get into the shelter of their homes as soon as possible as the late afternoon approached, standard procedure we are told, especially if they lived anywhere near to the new trolley line. “Still makes the hair stand up on the back of my neck” one old-old timer is quoted as saying as he recounted his experiences to Mr. Winetrauser.

Seems like whenever a trolley would roll by, following a tight schedule and going like a bat out of blazes, the strange occurrences would begin. Loud banging would suddenly occur on any building within earshot of the rumbling of the passing trolleys. At first the folks would open their doors believing that neighbors had "come a-calling" or that some stranger might have lost his way, as frequently happens in the darkened boondocks – no street lights don’t you know - but no one was ever there. At least no one with any shape or form. Sometimes, it was reported, an odiferous fog or mist would be seen hovering just outside. After having this occur to many of the natives it was decided that the best course would be to not answer and to pray that the surmised specter would depart, causing no harm to those inside. And, for the most part this succeeded except, as was rumored, some families came up missing for church the following Sundays and a search of their premises indicated that they may have left in a tolerable hurry as, often was the case, the dinner table was still set with food, long cold but still on their plates.

“We can’t say for sure that anything dire happened to them”, Sol indicates to us; “but it just seems a little too coincidental that they disappeared in late October over those many years. Yes sir just a little too coincidental”.

Now, Sol does tell us that all has been quiet for the last seven or eight decades. We, of course, here at the Museum are relieved to hear this, however, sometimes - in the night – in late October – in the night - some who were doing trolley restoration in the old barns have heard the knocking sounds and swear that a cold breeze stirs through the grease-pit and causes those little neck hairs to stand up just as proud as a southern cracker. It has gotten so that all October work has ceased in the barns in the evenings – in the night - and no one ventures out to them, no matter the reason or need to do so. The smart folks here seem to not want to tempt the fates...

DO YOU?

*Doctor of Phoneyology - Itinerate Spirits Sampler