Harrodsburg Born and Raised

Downtown Harrodsburg, Kentucky

Harrodsburg – what does it mean to you? Is this historic town just a stepping-stone in your life, or is it a life-long destination?

I was born and have live all of my almost 48 years within the boundaries of Mercer County – all but four of these within a five-mile radius of downtown Harrodsburg. I have seen the ups and downs and many of the times in between, and my love for this town only grows with each passing year.

When I was a child growing up in Riverview, most of my world revolved around our small neighborhood. My friends were there and we spent many hours playing together and planning our futures. The Harrodsburg City Pool was a popular spot and I spent glorious summer days splashing in the cool water and soaking up the sun. Back in the 1970s, we didn’t appreciate the dangers of long days spent in the hot sun. I was always tanned to a golden brown – “brown as a berry” as my Granny used to say. Actually, now that I’m older, I’m not sure what kind of berry is brown, and if it is, it is probably well past its peak.

Family weekends were usually spent together and while I enjoyed camping trips and Sunday afternoons at the beach, my favorite times were spent locally. During summer nights we would pile in the car and head to Twin Hills Drive-In to watch a movie or two. I learned to lock Chuck Norris, Charles Bronson and Clint Eastwood movies, and to me, Roger Moore will always be Bond, James Bond. The good, the bad and everything between – the fun of the drive-in was being together as a family and visiting with friends in the twilight before the movies began.

Another weekend activity was Friday and Saturday skate nights at the Mercer Roller Rink. I loved to skate, but more importantly, I liked to show off my mediocre skating skills. To this day, hearing the Jackson 5 song, “Rockin’ Robin” always makes me think of skate night at the roller rink.

By the time I was 16, my family had moved to the, then new, Cherokee Heights neighborhood. Many of my summer and weekend nights were then spent cruising the loop between McDonalds and Mr. Kwik. Now a days, the cruising route has changed to the Diary Queen end of town, but cruising is still a Harrodsburg tradition, as it is in most small towns.

For four months during the summer of 1981, I lived in downtown Cornishville and I loved every minute of it. I was still within the boundaries of Mercer County, but I felt like I was a million miles away from civilization. During this time, I worked at Anne’s Hallmark, so I made the trek into town at least five days a week. I enjoyed meeting and seeing the residents of Harrodsburg and being in town kept me close to the city’s heart. Weekends in the 1980s were usually spent at the home of our good friends, Sandra and Anthony Godbey, playing cards and talking all night.

In 1987, I moved to the center of Harrodsburg and this was the first time I had ever lived “in town.” I raised Amber and Marie in a tiny four-room house as I put myself through college. It was during these tough years I came to love Harrodsburg even more. As a single mother, I depended on cheap entertainment, so we sought out all the opportunities Harrodsburg had to offer. The Picnic in the Park became a favorite place on Fridays during the summer. We would pack our lunch, pick a bouquet of flowers and walk to Old Fort Harrod. Once at the park, we would eat, enjoy the week’s entertainment and then climb on the Osage Orange tree.

During this time in my life, we all grew to love the Grand Ole Mercer County Fair and Horseshow. Amber and Marie loved to paint, draw and make other crafts to enter in the 4-H show and Floral Hall, and I even got into the spirit by entering a few of my handmade items. When August would roll around, we couldn’t wait for Pioneer Days. The girls loved entering the Pet Show, visiting the arts and crafts booths, and watching the cloggers on Main Street. September used to bring Oktoberfest at Old Fort Harrod and the girls looked forward to the Wooly Worm Races and Osage Orange Crochet. The Night of the Great Pumpkin is the only event still ongoing in Harrodsburg and it always meant homemade costumes and decorated pumpkins. Following on the heels of Halloween would be the Holiday Gala at the Fort. The special essence of this night was seeing the hundreds of luminaries lining the park, taking candlelit tours of the cabins and stopping for hot apple cider in the museum. Christmas in Harrodsburg used to mean downtown, horse drawn carriage rides in addition to the parade.

Since 1993, I have lived four miles from downtown. I’ve seen two daughters grow up and move on to their own lives and I have one more ready to leave the nest. Although Harrodsburg has changed dramatically over the years, it will always be home to me. I’m proud of the improvements I see every day on Main Street – with the exception of the huge “hole” where the Courthouse used to proudly stand. I’m proud of the businesses that have moved into the area to give Harrodsburg a try, but I’m sad at the historic buildings we have lost along the way.

I don’t like to hear people complain about my town; all the complaints of “There’s nothing to do here,” made me mad. If people don’t like the lack of entertainment or shopping malls, then they should move somewhere else. I like the quiet, historic atmosphere of Harrodsburg – it is what keeps me here. I’m proud of Harrodsburg’s history, and while I also think progress can be a good thing, I think the progress in our town should be toward preservation, not expansion. After all, I’m proudly born and raised in Harrodsburg, the oldest settlement west of the Allegany Mountains.

Kids and Disney

Like most children, my girls grew up loving Disney movies and Disney characters. Amber loved “The Little Mermaid,” Marie loved “The Lion King,” and Christine loved and still loves “Lilo and Stitch.” Most Disney movies were fair game for everyone and our family has a group of favorites – “101 Dalmatians,” “Peter Pan,” “Dumbo,” and “Fantasia.” Although Amber and Marie loved the Disney Princesses, Christine has never been into the foo-foo characters, preferring instead to follow “Alice in Wonderland,” “Winnie the Pooh,” or “Mulan.”

When I was little, I enjoyed watching “The Wonderful World of Walt Disney” on Sunday nights with my family. “Swiss Family Robinson,” “Old Yeller,” “The Scarecrow,” “The Parent Trap” and “Treasure Island” were some of the many programs we watched as a family. Naturally, this was many years before the invention of VCRs or DVD players, so we popped popcorn ahead of time and had our drinks ready before the beginning of each show. Commercial breaks meant bathroom breaks and with only one bathroom, there was usually a mad scramble to see who could get to the bathroom first.

I didn’t get my first VCR until Marie and Amber were 3 and 5 years old, but owning a VCR didn’t mean I could afford to buy movies. We would rent movies almost every Friday night and the girl’s preferences were always Disney or other animated movies. “Pinocchio” was one of the very first Disney movies released on VHS, so it became a mutual favorite, but before long, we were renting “Rainbow Brite,” “Care Bears” and “Dr. Snuggles.”

By the time Christine was born, Marie and Amber were 8 and 10 years old, and we were starting to amass a large collection of VHS movies, with Disney remaining a favorite. During this phase in our family life, I was working 12-hour night shifts, so I’m ashamed to admit, my girls watched lots of movies for entertainment, mainly because I wasn’t home to supervise, but they also watched movies when I was home because I was always so busy. I can probably sing you songs or recite lines from most of their favorite movies because they were always on in the background - I may not have been watching, but I was always listening.

Like most families, my girls grew up and soon Disney movies were replaced with films about teen anguish, romance or horror. I found myself wishing we could leave the teenage years behind and return to the happy, carefree days of early childhood. We continued to have family movie night, but it was becoming increasingly harder to find movies we all agreed on.

Deterring a moment from my theme of Disney movies, my hubby and Christine have almost the same interest when it come to the make-up of a movie. Where I go to a movie purely for escapism and entertainment, they can tell you everything about a movie – the director, the producers, the main actors, the production team, when the film was released, where it was filmed, and the list goes on and on. They are like a walking encyclopedia of movies, my own personal Internet Movie Database (IMDb).

Fast forward to present day and 2010 is shaping up to be a memorable year for our family. Not only are we expecting our first grandbaby – a little girl due in June – but also our youngest daughter will be heading off to college. Even though Christine is finishing up her senior year and making grand plans for the fall, she is also having a resurgence of nostalgia for Disney movies. She has begun her own collection of DVDs with all her favorites; she even has a list of release dates for Disney movies so she is watching for her favorites. She has even invested in a few “stuff animals” for her room, with the newest addition being a large blue Stitch from “Lilo and Stitch.” She is looking forward to sharing her love of Disney with her new little niece.

I have a feeling I will be “knee-deep” in Disney movies again in a few years when my granddaughter, and future grandchildren, will discover their own love of the Disney classics. Some things just never go out of fashion, and in our family the Disney brand is firmly entrenched in our memories.

Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road

Ah, after a long cold winter, spring is finally in the air. All around us is the sweet, aromatic fragrance of ... skunk. Yep, that's right, it's skunk mating season again! This is the time of year when skunks seem to come out of the wood works and they end up ... splatted on the side of the road.

I swear, I drive less than five miles into town to go to work, and there were at least 8 dead skunks along the way. Some of them were on the sides of the road, some in the middle of the road. All those dead skunks makes me think of the old 70s song, *"Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road" by Loudon Wainwright.

"Crossin' the highway late last night
He shoulda looked left and he shoulda looked right
He didn't see the station wagon car
The skunk got squashed and there you are!
You got yer
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
You got yer dead skunk in the middle of the road
Stinkin' to high Heaven!"

Skunks are mammals best known for their ability to secrete a liquid with a strong, foul-smelling odor. Also known as "polecats" in many regions, skunks are actually a form of weasel known as Carnivora. Naturally, the word Carnivora refers to any meat-eating mammal, but skunks not only eat meat, they also eat many forms of plants, changing their diet with the seasons. It is the skunk's omnivorous diet that leads them to garbage cans in many urban areas. They have also been known to enter garages and out-buildings, especially of people who own pets because skunks have developed a taste for cat and dog food. They also like to lounge under porches, away from prying eyes.

A few years ago, Christine and I decided to take a paper route during the summer and although we delivered papers every afternoon, Monday through Friday, we also had to deliver at 3am on Sunday mornings. On these early morning deliveries, my wonderful hubby usually went with us. Of course, out in the county we saw all kinds of wildlife, but one of our routes was in the heart of Harrodsburg and we were privy to all kinds of nocturnal life roaming the city streets. I swear, there was one skunk that was in the same yard week after week after week – it must have been his home territory.

Skunks must be creatures of habit because we usually knew exactly where the skunks would be. They had a tendency to be in the same areas every Sunday morning and these were the homes we always used a flashlight to light the sidewalks. Once you've been startled by a skunk standing two feet in front, you learn to be careful about where you step.



Considering the number of dead skunks that line highways and roads during mating season, you would think skunks run in packs, but skunks are solitary creatures during the warm months of the year. During colder winter months, they will also seek shelter in the crawl spaces of homes or under porches close to a house's foundation. They will dig burrows for dens, or occasionally inhabit man-made or natural hallows.

Most people think skunks hibernate during the winter, but they are not true hibernators. They go through long dormant periods, but venture out every few weeks to find food. Female skunks may "den up" together for warmth, but males prefer to den alone. Mating season usually begins in late January and ramps into high gear by the middle of February.

Skunks range in appearance from species to species - some are black-and-white and some are brown or cream colored. Although they have an extraordinary sense of smell and hearing, they have very poor eyesight. This may account for the number of dead skunks on the roadways - the poor little things can see the huge motor vehicles coming. Skunks also have an extremely short life span, with very few living over three years.

"Take a whiff on me, that ain't no rose!
Roll up yer window and hold yer nose
You don't have to look and you don't have to see
'Cause you can feel it in your olfactory"

Anyone who has ever had a run in with a skunk will know that the most notorious feature of skunks is their anal scent glands, which they use as a defensive weapon. These glands produce a mixture of sulfur-containing chemicals which give off a highly offensive "rotten egg" smell. They can spray up to 15 feet away and the odor of the fluid is strong enough to ward off bears and other potential attackers and can be very hard to remove from clothing

"Yeah you got yer dead cat and you got yer dead dog
On a moonlight night you got yer dead toad frog
Got yer dead rabbit and yer dead raccoon
The blood and the guts they're gonna make you swoon!
Dead skunk in the middle of the road
Stinkin' to high heaven!
All over the road, Technicolor man!
Oh, you got pollution
It's dead, it's in the middle
And it's stinkin' to high, high Heaven."

So, when you're driving down a country lane on a warm spring night and are overcome with an intense feeling of nausea, chances are it's the overwhelming scent of "od 'de skunk" wafting through the air. Ah, springtime in Kentucky ...

*“Dead Skunk in the Middle of the Road” lyrics copyright Loudon Snowden Wainwright III from “Album III,” produced by Thomas Jefferson Kaye for Columbia Records.

A New Decade is Dawning

Another year is here – where did the time go? 2010 is gearing up to be a great year, but it is also the ending of another phase in my life.

For the past 27 years, I’ve had at least one child at home. From infant care, toddler days, preschool adventures and after school activities, Mom’s taxi service has hauled kids from one event to the next and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it. But 2010 will see my youngest child leave home to begin her college years, and I’m going to be left with an empty next. What am I supposed to do? How do you change a lifestyle you’ve had for 27 years?

The Rightmyer family circa 1999 - Marie, Christine, Amber, Bobbi and Keith

I already miss the days I used to volunteer at school. I always made time to help out several days a month when my girls were in elementary school. I’ve helped with Girl Scouts, band, choir, dance, soccer and academic practice as well as multiple church activities. When the girls got too old to want me at school, I found other ways to volunteer to show them the joy of giving your time to help others.

At least my girls have left me a little at a time – this has helped my adjustment period somewhat, but it doesn’t take the pain away entirely. Marie was the first to leave and it nearly killed me when she moved out, but I realized I was going to have to let her go eventually. Two years later, Amber was gone and the pain was just as acute, but I knew I would survive.

Christine, Marie and Amber - circa 1999

For the past 8 years, Christine has been my only child at home and we have grown very close. She sometimes complains she feels like an only child because there is such a large age difference between her and her sisters. Of all my children, Christine and I are most alike. We both enjoy reading and many times we will spend an afternoon reading, even though we are reading separate books. Or we have been known to brain storm ideas for writing projects, bouncing ideas off one another to see what we think might work for a story. We both enjoy volunteer work and Christine has been a big help to mean with many of the tasks I’ve taken on.

Of course, Christine has inherited the “worry gene” from me; she worries about everything, just like I do. She is more concerned about keeping everyone else happy than she is doing things for herself. She is a true friend and someone you can count on when the times are hard. I really wish she wouldn’t worry so much – I want her to enjoy her happy teenage years while they’re here. But just like I know I can’t stop myself from worrying, I can’t keep her from worrying either.

Looking forward into 2010, there are many things I am actually looking forward to. First and foremost is the fact that I will be a grandmother for the first time. I am so excited and I can’t wait to hold this little bundle of joy in my arms. My middle daughter, Marie, is expected in June and we are all eagerly awaiting this newest addition to the family.

My first grandchild, the Tadpole - 12 weeks gestation, due June 2010

This will also be the first year I have sent a child to college. As much as I wanted Amber and Marie to attend college, they had no interest in continuing their education. Although this saddened me at first, I realized it was their life and they should have a choice in what they wanted to do. So, instead of seeking a college education, they both entered the work force and they seem content with this decision.

Christine, on the other hand, has been looking forward to college for many years. She plans to seek a degree in Art Administration and she also wants to study abroad, hopefully in Japan. At some point after graduation, she wants to join the Peace Corps before settling down with a career. This past fall was full of applying to colleges, filling out scholarship forms and researching all grant opportunities; I know this spring will be full of last minute preparations, but it will be a fun experience.

This year is also the year I plan to have a book published. I have been working on many things, but can’t seem to narrow my focus down to one thing, so I’m not exactly sure what the book will be. I do know it will be one of the following possibilities: a collection of my Mercer’s Magazine essays, a poetry collection, a book about Harrodsburg, or a young adult book I am almost finished with. Because I’m interested in so many areas, it is hard for me to work on any one project for a long period of time, so I catch myself working on each one for a short period of time. This may not be ideal for most writers, but it is the techniques that work for me.

I guess the most special thing I’m looking forward to is celebrating my 20th wedding anniversary and being able to spend more time with my hubby. Keith and I have been together for 24 years, but we’ve only been married for 20. Since we have been together, there have always been children in the house. Even though we had a wonderful week long honeymoon, we’ve never really had any time alone with children. And as much as I miss the kids being around all the time, I’m excited about the new status in our relationship.

Where did the time go? I don’t know, but I do know that the older I get, the faster time seems to speed by. You’ve got to reach out and grab a piece of life while it’s spinning by, because if you wait for things to happen for you, it may be too late. I hope everyone has a Happy New Year and enjoys the fruits of a new decade.

Baby’s First Christmas – Again

(Desiree Carter Semones; born October 28, 2009)



The Christmas season is upon us again – where did the time go? It seems like the older I get, the faster time flies by. I no longer have any little children in the household, so our Christmas routine is somewhat different than it was years ago. I can remember the kids being so excited to get up early Christmas morning and open their presents. Christmas really is for children.

Although I can’t remember back to my first Christmas, after all I was only four months old, there is one picture of me I vividly remember from the Christmas of 1962. I am lying on my Granny Devine’s couch and there is a huge stocking next to me, the old-fashion type of man’s stocking. My Granddaddy had filled it with lots of baby food, or that’s what everyone has told me. I have no memories at all of my Granddaddy; he died when I was still a baby. What knowledge I have of him is from the stories my Mom has told me and the few precious photographs that still exist.

I can remember so many details of my first daughter’s Christmas in 1982 – Amber was only three months old. Of course, she was too young to know what was going on, but I enjoyed making memories and taking photos. She got lots of clothes and toys that have long been forgotten, but there is one precious gift that holds special memories. My parents gave her a solid white stuffed kitten – it was almost a duplicate of one I had as a child. I can remember Amber carrying this kitten when she got older, and I eventually had to store it away in a closet, least it fall apart and be gone forever. Since then, my other two girls have been given white kittens and this will be a tradition I will carry on with my grandchildren. My girl’s cats are all lovingly packed away with my own kitten and they will eventually end up in a shadow box or some type of display, but until then, I’ll keep them safe and sound.

When Marie’s first Christmas arrived in 1984, she was already walking and talking. At nine months old, she was a little pistol, trying to do everything her older sister was doing. This was an exciting Christmas for our family because Amber had just turned two and she was starting to understand what Christmas was all about.

This year, there were toys galore under the tree – rocking horses, Strawberry Shortcake, Gizmo and more. Although the He-Man castle was technically Amber’s, we had a hard time keeping Marie out of all the paraphernalia that went along with He-Man and Skeletore. This was also our first Christmas in our brand-new house – it seems like such a lifetime ago.

Christmas 1988 brought us the first Christmas of my niece, Ashley, the only child of my sister, Amy. Being a baby of three months, I’m sure Ashley doesn’t remember much, but she was the newest addition to the family and we were all happy to have another baby to love on. We’ve stored away memories and photographs, which are fun to look back on and remember.

When Christine’s first Christmas rolled around in 1992, our lives had changed so much for the better. We were a happy family blended together and the holidays were a joyous time. Christine was only three months old, but Amber and Marie were 10 and 8, so Christmas fever began before Thanksgiving was even over with. Again, Christine was too young to remember this first Christmas, but like the other girls here are tons and tons of photos, plus descriptions in her baby book.

Christmas 1993 brought us the first Christmas of a baby boy, my nephew, Ethan, son of my brother and sister-in-law, Brent and Patty. Like Marie, Ethan was nine months old, so he was almost walking and talking and enjoyed the excitement from his first Christmas. Now there were five grandchildren to fill my parents home and we all loved being together.

As the years have passed, we continue to gather at my parent’s home on Christmas Eve. A hearty meal my Mom slaves over all day gives us turkey and ham, mashed potatoes and dressing, corn and macaroni, broccoli casserole and oysters – we eat until we are so stuffed we’re miserable. When the kids were all younger, we had to rush through the meal because they were so anxious to open gifts. Now that the kids are older, the meal is more relaxed and less hurried. We have time to clear away the meal and spend time together before the rush of wrapping paper and ribbons start to litter the floor.

Although I continue to love spending the holidays with my family, it has just not been the same without little children in the house. I long for the days when my own grandchildren will gather around on Christmas Eve to celebrate the season. There is just something magical about a child at Christmas – a wonderment you can only see through their eyes.

Christmas 2009 will again have a new baby in the family, Desiree Carter, daughter of my niece Ashley. Although she is less than two months old, it is such a joy to have a baby at Christmas again. There will be lots of presents she won’t remember, lots of memories that we will remember, and plenty of photographs to show her when she’s grown. I know this is the beginning of a new phase in the life of my family, a new generation of babies to love and enjoy and I look forward to entertaining them all, not just at the holidays, but all through the year.

Giving Thanks

Although I’ve never really taken Thanksgiving for granted, I have sometimes glossed over the true meaning of the holiday in favor of yummy turkey and mouth-watering dressing. I enjoy being with family and friends and remembering all that we have to be thankful for, but am I really giving proper credit to the things I am thankful for?

This year has brought us two new members to our family and an expanding family is one to be grateful for. First is our new son-in-law, Jason Wilham, and although he an Amber have only been married a few months, he is the perfect fit for our family. Our second addition is a brand-new great niece, Desiree Carter, precious daughter of my niece, Ashley. Desiree is the first new baby in our family in over 16 years and we are thankful to be celebrating her first Thanksgiving. A new son and a new baby – my family is truly blessed

During this past summer, my family lived through a traumatic time in our lives - a fire at our home. This was not a total loss fire, but it did enough damage to disrupt our lives for several months. In addition to redoing the laundry room – where the fire occurred – we also had smoke and water damage to clean in the kitchen and living room. You don’t realize how much of a packrat you are until your pack-ratty ways are staring you right in the face.

Really? There are just so many file folders of corrected stories I can keep – why do I feel the need to hold on to every corrected copy? Really? There are just so many foam cups from Speedway my hubby can bring into the house – why do I feel the need to save every one? Really? There are just so many glass jars one family can own and use – why do I feel the need save them all instead of placing in the recycle bin?

Our clutter problem probably wouldn’t be so bad if it were just me, but my hubby is a packrat, too, and between us, we have a hard time letting anything go. Both of us can see objects in a new light, with a new purpose and we know that one day, we will need this item. The problem is, we never have enough time or energy to do anything with the item. I’ve saved old furniture thinking I can refurbish is, I’ve saved old pots and pans thinking I can use them as flower pots or seed starters and I’ve saved plastic bottles thinking to make mini-greenhouses for spring plants. I really do have good intentions, but for some reason, life just gets in the way.

For many years we used to eat Pizza Hut pizza every Friday night – it was a family tradition to have pizza and a movie on Fridays. I always saved the boxes because they could be used to make stepping-stones. At one time, I had a stack of boxes in my kitchen I called the “leaning tower of pizza.” I did make some stepping-stones with a few of the boxes, but the process took so long and the stones were so heavy, I couldn’t move them by myself. I did use some of the boxes as a weed barrier in a new garden bed and they worked beautifully when covered with mulch, but I could never use all the boxes I had saved.

After the fire, I was surprised to find a small stack of pizza boxes in the kitchen that had escaped the fire. It has been almost two years since we’ve routinely had Pizza Hut pizza on Friday night – two years! With the economy so bad, I’ve started making homemade pizza because it is cheaper and we can control the toppings. Why was I still holding on to old pizza boxes? I don’t know, but I took a deep breath and threw them in the trash.

Although I realize possessions can be replaced, we did lose a few things of sentimental value that will be greatly missed, our cedar wardrobe being the largest. The wardrobe actually belonged to my mother-in-law, but we’ve been using it since we were married over 20 years ago. I loved that wardrobe and I had always planned to have it turned into an entertainment center for our living room so we could see the beautiful wood. Inside the wardrobe were my wedding dress and the first quilt I ever made. I’ve saved them both, but they will never be able to be used again. Part of my packrat mind won’t let me throw them away because I may be able to turn them into a pillow or something, but who knows?

Other things, like the washer and dryer, deep freezer and clothes organizer – these will all be replaced. No sentimental attachment to these things. Old winter clothes waiting to be put back into use; we can always buy new clothes. Some Halloween decorations were also in the laundry room waiting to decorate for fall, but maybe I had too many decorations; maybe the universe is trying to tell me simple is really best.

This year at Thanksgiving, I’m thankful the rest of our house was spared. I’m thankful my husband, my daughter or myself were not at home. We grieve for the loss of our three beautiful cats, but we have lost pets before and I’m sure we’ll lose pets again. I am thankful for the love and support of our family and friends and I am grateful for all their thoughts and prayers. This year, Thanksgiving is blossoming in a new light. This year, it really is a season to give thanks.

Hallowed and Hushed

Unknown. Hallowed and Hushed be the place of the dead. Step Softly. Bow Head.

Living in Harrodsburg my entire life, I have a sentimental attachment to Youngs Park, located on Linden Avenue, between the Mercer County Fairgrounds and Haggin Memorial Hospital. I have so many memories of playing in the park, eating picnic lunches and attending family functions. My Granny Devine lived within walking distance of the park and I’ve walked the short block from her home so many times, I could walk it blindfolded.

Youngs Park has always been one of my favorite places to escape to when looking for a nice, quiet lunch. Many times I have driven behind the park to the lower picnic tables and enjoyed a sandwich while watching the antics of the squirrels. The squirrels have become so used to human contact, they will sit within easy reach of picnic tables or cars, eagerly waiting for a scrap of bread or a French fry to be thrown their way.

Many of my fondest memories of Youngs Park occurred during my Girl Scout years and our annual summer Day Camp. One week of each summer was dedicated to numerous scouting projects with a different theme for each day. I can remember tie-dying T-shirts, painting pictures, cooking over a campfire, learning how to mark trails, just to name a few activities. During the summer of 1971, our favorite song to sing – and we sang it at the tops of our voices – was Three Dog Night’s “Jeremiah Was a Bullfrog.” We thought we were so cool.

The highlight of the Day Camp would be the sleepover on Friday night. For the sleepover, the Boy Scouts would come and help us set up tents in the back portion of the park. Camping out was exciting and we looked forward to it every year. Campfires, homemade stews, and s’mores were all on the list of activities.

Another eager awaited tradition for the sleepover was the telling of ghost stories. Because most of the Girl Scouts ranged in age from 8 to 14, we were all susceptible to having the beegeezus scared out of us! And Youngs Park was the perfect backdrop for these scary stories because of the legend of the “girl who danced herself to death.”

I’ve heard the story all my life – an unknown young girl arrived at the long-gone Graham Springs Hotel and attended a lavish ball where she danced all night. She eventually danced herself to death, collapsing onto the ballroom floor at the feet of her partner. She was buried in an unknown grave on the Graham Springs property. It is only as I’ve gotten older that I’ve had the desire to check more into this legend.

Historic Graham Springs was located in the area of the current Physician’s Park and Haggin Hospital and was on the site of a natural spring. There were numerous springs in the Harrodsburg area and they were reported to have healing and restorative properties.

This Spring, that would eventually be called Graham Springs, was turned into a spa as early as 1807. In 1827, Dr. Christopher C. Graham purchased the Springs and in 1842 constructed the main hotel, Graham Springs Hotel. The hotel was a brick four-story building which Graham said would hold one thousand people.

Graham charged a fee of $20 per month to stay at the Springs and “take the waters.” Not only did guests enjoy and benefit from healing waters, they also joined in a lively social season which lasted from June until September. Balls and other entertainment occupied the guests while they drank the mineral waters. Graham claimed the waters helped to alleviate the aches and pains of people who suffered from such aliments as gout, rheumatism, dropsy, neuralgia, and “Autumnal fevers.”
Often called the “Saratoga of the West,” Graham Springs flourished until 1853, when it was sold to the United States Government for use as a military asylum for aged and invalid soldiers. Fire later destroyed main buildings and the place fell into disuse.

Sometime between 1842 and 1853, legend says a beautiful young lady appeared at the Springs. No one knew who she was, but it is rumored she came from “down South.” When arriving at the Springs, she signed the guest register with a fictitious name. After her dancing death, she became known as the “unknown lady,” although most people from Mercer County still refer to her as “the lady who danced herself to death.”

After her death and burial at the Springs, a monument honoring her was erected. Currently, the tomb is located between the road and the shelter house, with a sign bearing the words:

Unknown
Hallowed and
Hushed be the
place of the dead.
Step Softly.
Bow Head.

As I child, I thought I saw the ghost of this mysterious lady on numerous occasions, but as I’ve grown older, I realize it was probably mass hysteria brought on by ghost stories around the campfire. Although, there was one night in 2004, as I was leaving work at the Haggin Hospital at three o’clock in the morning, I would swear I saw a woman dancing through the park. She appeared to be dressed in white and was walking near one of the large oak trees in the middle of the park. Thinking back, it was probably exhaustion or my mind playing tricks on me. But then again …



Added note: As recently as 2002, an article appeared in the Mercer’s Magazine claiming to have finally learned the identity of this unknown woman. This article can be read in its entirety at: http://www.angelfire.com/tn3/masterdetective2/Old_Mystery1.pdf.

Acknowledgement: I would like to thank my brother-in-law, Don Rightmyer, from the Kentucky Historical Society for helping me find information on Graham Springs.