Contributed by Kathie Schaumburg

    My great great uncle lived on a farm on what is now known as Beaver Creek State Park. The park sits close to the (about 21 miles)  PA state line and next to the Beaver River. When Ohio bought the land for preservation, my uncle refused to sell his parcel, so instead the state said he could continue living on the land with no charge as long as he or his ancestors lived in the house.
   The farm was a mixture of dairy farm and grain farming. He had no sons to help him with the farm, but did have one daughter Abigail. Abby was a beautiful girl with golden blonde hair and a spirit of playfulness. She would help my uncle every day milk the cows and work the land.
    One day as she was doing her early morning chores, she heard a voice coming from the fields. At first she wasn't sure what to make of the sounds and ignored them. A few minutes later the sounds became louder and she decided to investigate. Abby ran out of the barn and through the fields. She stopped, her heart beating so fast she thought it was going to explode. Nothing. She saw nothing. She turned around and started back to the barn. As she was walking she looked down and saw a little girls doll. It looked like an Indian doll, ones she had seen before but how did it get in the field?
    Over the next couple of weeks, Abby would hear the sounds, run out into the field, could find no one and but would return with a child's toy in her hand.
     Abby was doing her chores as usual and my uncle was out in the field baling hay. Abby heard the sounds and again ran out into the field. My uncle did not see her as she bent down to pick up the toy. He ran over her and killed her instantly. He was so grief stricken and sadden by what had happened to his daughter, he was never the same again. He became reclusive and wanted no one around his land.  He wished she would come back to him, that he could undo the past.  Each night as he would retired for the night he would hear voices in the field. He would take his lantern and search in vain. One night, as he was walking through the fields he saw a flash of white and gold. It was Abby! she had come back he thought. He ran and ran to catch up with her but he was too old to run so far. Each night he would wander the fields with his lantern looking for Abby. Returning home after a long night,  he walked through the field on the very spot that Abby died. He looked down and saw a child's doll. It looked like an Indian doll, one he had seen before.
    He scooped up the doll, went into the house, and was never seen or heard from again. The barn is still on the land and if you listen you will hear sounds coming from the fields. You will find yourself being pulled into the field toward the sounds of .....laughter and fun.
  On very dark nights in Beaver Creek State Park, listen for Abby calling. On the spot where she died you will find a toy and every once in a while see a light. The light? my uncle still roaming the fields looking for his Abby. The toys? well, they remain a mystery. Some say they are the toys of Indian children who played on that very spot. Some say they are from the children of the hostages taken by the Indians. What do you think?

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That was a very touching story, Kathie. If anyone would like to write her, you can send an email here.   Thanks! --tbs

This page was last updated on November 18, 2003.
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"Abby" is the property of Kathie Schaumburg. Used by permission.