QUOTE(goalienan @ Jul 6 2007, 06:59 AM)

Hi rosenrot...why don't you give us a story on abandoned buildings (mental institutions are one of my favs.), or local heros and legends..Even weird houses...In Jersey we have the "bowling ball house", the "rocking horse house" and two "Pink Ladies", where needless to say everything, and I mean everything is pink...Or give us one of your own...I'm sure it will be good reading...

Hmm, an abanoned building, local hero, local legends, or weird houses. You give me too many topics to decide, so I'll tell a long-standing legend from Southern Virginia.
This is the tale of the Wreck of the Old 97. It takes place in Danville, VA where my mother lives. It is a very popular local legend. 1903: Train number 97 was behind time; it was 1p and she was due in at the Danville Station at 1.40p with 64 miles still to cover. The conductor was pushing the train to her limits. As he neared the most dangerous part of the trip, a three-mile, curving, down grade that lead to the trestle crossing the Dan River which was at the time, on the outskirts of Danville. At the bottom of the descent was the most curve of all which veered sharply to the east. Below the trestle at this piont was a 75-foot drop into the deep chasm ovver Still House Creek. On each side of the rails were warning signs that read "Sharp Curve. Speed Limit 15 Miles Per Hour." Only when the conductor saw the signs did he attempt to stop the 97; but all this efforts failed because of the way he had been pushing the engine. As described by an eyewitness, "The engine struck the first rails of the curve, wavered and swayed for a moment ... then continued straight ahead. With a sickening lurch, the stampeding locomotive left the track and bounded onto the trestle, bounding and skipping along the crossties while wood and splinters flew in every direction. The mail car left the rails, then the second, the third, and the fourth. The runaway express rolled to the right, leaped above the yawning chasm and fell to the bottom. The left side of the engine struck the creekbed and half-buried herself in the mud. For a long moment, there was an eerie silence as the wheels continued to spin. It was broken by the cries of rescuers and the calls of the hundreds of canaries that had been carried in one of the mail cars. The conductor and his engineers were found dead almost scalded beyond recongition. The engine was raised and run on it's normal route from Richmond to Danville until 1935 when it was scrapped. The tracks were rerouted and part of the ravine was filled in to make way for the modern highway. It has been told that if one stands on an autumn afternoon a little after 2p at the foot of that three-mile down grade and listens closely Old 97 echoes throught the Valley of the Dan.
But as far as weird houses go, most of the unusual houses are the mansions that sat on plantations in the colonial ages. And abandoned asylums, I have never heard of any in the area.