Haunted October: The Tillinghast Lot, Exeter, Rhode Island

Posted on October 19, 2026October 16, 2026 by Dusty Roads | No Comments

Old, overgrown cemetery in a wooded area with weathered, tilted gravestones surrounded by bare trees and fallen leaves.

A Quiet Rhode Island Cemetery With a Loud History

October sharpens the edges of New England. The mornings feel older, the woods feel closer, and even the quiet backroads seem to remember things they don’t talk about the rest of the year. Down in Exeter, tucked behind fields and stone walls, there’s a small cemetery that carries one of Rhode Island’s strangest stories — the Tillinghast Lot.

It doesn’t look like much at first. A handful of old stones, a clearing in the trees, the kind of place you’d miss if you weren’t looking for it. But in the late 1800s, this quiet patch of ground became part of a larger fear that swept through rural Rhode Island — a fear that the dead weren’t staying where they were buried.

Why Exeter Was Already on Edge

To understand why the Tillinghast deaths caused such alarm, you have to look at what was happening in Exeter at the time. Tuberculosis was ravaging families, but no one knew what it was. People wasted away slowly — pale, weak, coughing, losing weight — and when multiple members of the same family died, neighbors whispered that something supernatural was draining the life from the living.

The Mercy Brown Vampire Panic

The most famous example was the Mercy Brown case, just a few miles from the Tillinghast Lot. After several members of the Brown family died, locals became convinced that one of the dead was “feeding” on the surviving son, Edwin.

In 1892, they exhumed Mercy Brown’s body. Because she had been stored in a cold crypt during winter, she hadn’t decomposed normally. Her heart still held blood. Terrified, the townspeople burned her heart and liver, mixed the ashes into a tonic, and gave it to Edwin to “break the curse.”

It became the most famous vampire panic in American history — and it happened right here in Exeter.

So when members of the Tillinghast family began dying around the same era, people didn’t see illness. They saw a pattern. They believed it could happen again.

Strange Reports From the Tillinghast Lot

Visitors to the Lot claimed the air turned cold even on warm days. Shadows moved between the stones. Footsteps followed them when no one else was there. Small, unsettling details that linger long after you’ve left.

Standing there today, you can see why the stories stuck. The ground dips in strange places. The trees crowd close, as if they’ve been listening for a long time. The stones are worn down to soft shapes, names fading into lichen and time. It’s peaceful, but not entirely. There’s a heaviness to the place — not threatening, just watchful.

A Place That Remembers More Than It Should

I’ve driven through Exeter more times than I can count, and there’s something about that part of Rhode Island that feels older than the map suggests. The roads curve in ways that make you slow down. The woods feel deeper. And cemeteries like the Tillinghast Lot remind you that history doesn’t always stay quiet.

If you ever find yourself near Exeter, take a moment to stop by. Walk the edge of the clearing. Read the stones. Listen to the wind moving through the trees. Just don’t go alone. Some places remember more than they should — especially in October.

Small historic cemetery enclosed by a low stone wall, with weathered gravestones set in dry grass and a single American flag placed beside one marker, surrounded by bare trees in a quiet late‑fall landscape.

Haunted October- The Redheaded Hitchhiker of Rt 44

Posted on October 5, 2026October 2, 2026 by Dusty Roads | No Comments

A lone figure stands in the middle of a dark, foggy road at night, illuminated by a harsh overhead light while a parked car sits nearby, its headlights reflecting off the wet pavement to create an eerie, suspenseful atmosphere.

Good Morning, Taunton

Let me tell you a cautionary tale of hauntings and spooks — one that has lingered along our back roads for decades, whispered between towns, repeated by locals, and never quite explained.

A Rural Road with a Reputation

A long, wet road stretches into dense fog, flanked by tall dark trees on both sides, with the centerline reflecting faint light and visibility fading into a moody, mysterious haze. If you’re from the area, you already know that Taunton and Rehoboth sit side‑by‑side, connected by the long, rural stretch of U.S. Route 44. Once you leave the glow of Taunton behind, the darkness settles in quickly. The trees crowd close, the houses disappear, and the road becomes the kind of place where you can drive for miles without seeing another car. Some might even call it deserted.

Providence is the nearest city, and after a full day of shopping and errands, it had gotten late. I was heading home, tired, ready to call it a night. My radio was playing softly — just enough sound to keep the quiet from feeling too heavy. It must have been after 10 p.m. The sky was moonless, the woods were deep, and there wasn’t a single streetlight on that stretch of 44.

A Figure on the Shoulder

For reasons I couldn’t explain, I felt uneasy. Not frightened — just aware. I kept my eyes on the edges of the road, watching for deer. They’re known to leap out from the woods without warning, and I’ve had more than one close call along that route.

But then I saw something ahead.

A figure. Standing on the shoulder. A man — or at least the shape of one. A lone figure in a long coat stands on a dark rural road at night, facing an approaching vehicle whose bright headlights illuminate the wet pavement, creating a tense, mysterious atmosphere.

A hitchhiker. At this hour?

I slowed down, instinctively, thinking maybe he needed help. As my headlights swept across him, I saw his hair — unnaturally red, almost glowing in the darkness. It didn’t look right. It didn’t look real.

And then he was gone.

Just gone. One moment there, the next… nothing but empty road.

The Voice in the Static

I pulled forward, heart thudding, trying to make sense of what I’d seen. That’s when the radio cut out. The music vanished, replaced by static — sharp, loud, crackling through the speakers. Beneath it, a distorted voice began to form. My name. Spoken slowly. Drawn out. Wrong.

“Stop the car,” it said.

But I knew — deep down, in a way you don’t question — that if I stopped, I would never make it home.

I had just encountered the Redheaded Hitchhiker of Route 44.

So if you ever find yourself driving between Taunton and Rehoboth late at night… don’t pick up any hitchhikers.

Haunted October: Rockafellas Restaurant, Salem, Massachusetts

Posted on October 1, 2026September 30, 2026 by Dusty Roads | No Comments

A historic brick building in Salem with a large skeleton decoration mounted above the entrance, signage reading “Daniel Low & Co.” and “Rockafellas,” and additional Halloween skeletons near the upper windows.

🎃 Welcome to Haunted October

Good evening… and welcome.

Outside, October wind drifts through Salem’s narrow streets, brushing past brick façades and stirring the last leaves on the Common. Inside this handsome Derby Square building, warm light pools across polished wood, and conversation hums softly. Yet beneath that modern glow lies a history that never quite settles.

Tonight, we step into Rockafellas, a contemporary restaurant housed within a structure whose past stretches back two centuries — and whose roots reach even deeper.

🏛️ A Meetinghouse With Shadows Behind It

A group of visitors standing near the historic Witch House in Salem, a dark wooden 17th‑century structure with steep gables, set beside a large Gothic stone building with arched windows and battlements Long before diners filled these rooms, the site belonged to Salem’s First Church, a congregation whose earlier meetinghouses stood witness to the uneasy tensions of 1692. Within that lineage, John and Elizabeth Proctor were questioned during the Salem Witch Trials, their futures hanging by a thread as fear swept through the town.

The building standing today rose in 1826, later reshaped in Victorian Gothic style. Though its architecture changed, the memory of those earlier meetinghouses clings to the space like a faint, persistent echo. Visitors often describe a subtle shift in the air — a quiet reminder that this corner of Salem has seen more than its share of troubled history.

👻 A Presence That Doesn’t Announce Itself

Rockafellas doesn’t lean into theatrics. Its décor is modern, its atmosphere lively, its energy warm. Diners seated at a Halloween‑decorated restaurant table surrounded by oversized spider webs, hanging spiders, and life‑size skeleton figures, including one dressed like Jack Skellington in a witch hat.

Even so, certain moments give guests pause: a sudden chill, a brief hush, the feeling that someone has paused nearby. Staff speak softly about the building’s “regulars,” the ones who never appear on the reservation list.

Among them is the Lady in Blue, glimpsed in an upstairs window after closing time — a figure who vanishes the moment anyone looks twice. Footsteps drift across the second floor when no one is there. A knock sounds against a wall with no door behind it. And stories linger about Daniel Low, the jeweler who died within these walls and, some say, still keeps watch.

These aren’t dramatic hauntings. They’re whispers. Echoes. Small reminders that history rarely stays quiet in Salem.

🕯️ Where Past and Present Share the Same Room

Rockafellas may not resemble a haunted house, but it carries the weight of a haunted place — shaped by centuries of worship, fear, tragedy, and transformation.

The witch trial lineage. The meetinghouse legacy. The quiet spirits said to linger. The Lady in Blue watching from above.

Together, they create an atmosphere that settles gently, like a familiar guest returning to a room they once knew well.

🎃 Welcome… to Haunted October

As candles flicker and the wind presses against the windows, remember: this is Salem. The past never wanders far. Sometimes it sits at the table beside you.

Welcome to Haunted October — and together, we’ll explore the myths, legends, hauntings, and mysteries of New England.

A glowing carved pumpkin with large eyes and a wide toothy grin, surrounded by other illuminated jack‑o’‑lanterns creating a warm, festive Halloween display.