Article Discussion

My family and I lived in Ceredo/Kenova most of my childhood days. I am now 63, and I have so much I can add about the Ramsdell House as we lived there when I was a teenager. There was my dad, Paul Larrowe, my mom, Imogene (Brewer) Larrowe, my brothers, Eugene, Jimmy, and Melvin, my sister, Carolyn, and myself. My brothers were in their 20s, and I was 13. They got to scouting around the place shortly after we moved in and found way more than they wanted to. In the attic were four unused wood coffins, military books, records of drugs being given to troops, food supplies, and clothing. Then they went to the basement to see what was there, and that’s when they found the tunnel. They ran back in the house and got lanterns, flash lights, and away they went. When they came back they said they had gone to the Ohio River. Our dad was a lawyer for General Motors and was gone during the week and home on weekends, so when he came home the boys showed him the tunnel. They were told never to go in there again.

Our yard was a graveyard, and there were several military graves under a large oak tree. Inside the home there were all kinds of activity at night mostly. A little girl would roam up and down the upstairs hall, crying for her mother. Someone would sit on my bed and cry. Downstairs in the entry hall was a small closet under the stairs, and twice my dad tried to go into the dining room and was stopped by someone. My cat Jo Jo would raise her fur and growl, and soon after she did that, you would hear the kitchen door open and close. My girlfriend, Thelma Kimbler, stayed all night with me one weekend, and I had not told anyone of these happenings, fearing they would think I was crazy. We were in my bedroom when we heard the little girl. Thelma turned white, started crying, and went home.

There is so much more to be told of this wonderful home. My great-grandpa, Robert (Poppy) Carver, and my granny (his daughter), Erie Brewer, came to stay with me one night while my parents were gone. Poppy was blind, but he did everything for himself. He was going into the kitchen, and we heard him say, “Please move so I can pass.” I asked him who he was talking to, and he said, “I don’t know, but they don’t want me in the kitchen.”

My oldest brother, Eugene, and his wife, Norma Cannady, had lost their first-born daughter, and he brought her back to Ceredo to be buried. So they placed her in our living room for viewing, and on the second night my dad heard a woman crying. Thinking it was mom, he ran downstairs to find no one but baby Trisha Marie on our sofa all wrapped in a pink blanket. Daddy asked, “Why did you move my granddaughter?” All we heard was our front door close.

Yes, I can say it was very interesting living there, and I wouldn’t trade it for the world. I would write a book, but I have no idea how to even start. I have been back in my old home twice, and I am going back again to see if they will permit me to stay overnight one more time with my husband. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it.

Views expressed in comments to e-WV articles are those of the commenter.