Piedmont Phantoms. Daniel W. Barefoot

      Foreword

      “I love North Carolina.”

      A simple statement—and one Dan Barefoot didn’t have to tell me. I could tell it myself while propped in my favorite chair, Haints of the Hills in my hand, Piedmont Phantoms and Seaside Spectres on the table beside me. Ghost stories, sure, but the pages of all three are imbued with Dan’s love of the state. His fascination with it, too. And that’s a powerful combination: love and fascination. So powerful, in fact, I’m afraid I’ve dog-eared my three volumes and bent the corners of several pages—I’m not one for bookmarks anyway. It’s just that I’ve read and reread his accounts, and no, the supernatural tales haven’t kept me up at night, but they have reminded me why I, too, love the state. For it is rich with history, and history is also imbued on the pages of Dan’s books, on just about each and every page, which lends credibility to his ghostly stories. And how about that for a combination? Credibility and ghosts?

      “Do you believe in them?” I ask Dan—I suppose I’m putting him on the spot. “Ghosts?”

      “Well …” he begins.

      I’m not sure how I’d answer, either. I’ve told dozens of ghost stories myself, not in print but on TV, and I’ve looked into the eyes of people who’ve told me of their encounters with the inexplicable. And not just run-of-the-mill inexplicable, not just weird head-scratchers, but experiences far more bizarre and otherworldly. And yet the people I interviewed seemed so genuine and down-to-earth; many were business professionals with nothing to gain by spinning some far-out, cockamamie story.

      “I’m not sure about ghosts,” Dan finally admits, and I can’t say I blame him. I’d probably respond the same way—I’m a reporter, after all; for fairness sake, it’s always best to strike a middle-of-the road position. But Dan doesn’t leave it at “not sure.” He once again dives into the history of the state, and I nod in agreement. His tales are grounded in history, and there’s no getting around historical documentation. Thanks, Dan; reporters love hard facts. With history as foundation, the stories in his books ring … true? Well … maybe … could be … not sure. But aren’t they intriguing to consider?

      Intriguing, in part, because these are little-known ghost stories, and everybody likes to learn something new—especially reporters. “I didn’t want to do stories that were beaten to death,” Dan tells me, and I admire his choice of words when talking about the ghoulish: beaten to death.

      Mr. Barefoot has pricked my curiosity. How did Dan find these hidden stories? I wonder. How did he unearth them? I can only imagine. It must have been like searching for unmarked graves without a flashlight and exhuming the past without a shovel. But, no, turns out it’s nothing that shadowy—or sweaty. Dan tells me he visited libraries, and when their research was lacking, he did his own digging, talked to people, visited places, read accounts. “Just had to do the hard work,” he says. Although he was used to that—the hard work, that is.

      In 2001, Dan was proudly serving in the NC General Assembly when lawmakers considered eliminating North Carolina history for eighth-grade students in public schools—it was taught only in fourth and eighth grades anyway, and this was going to slash North Carolina history in half. Representative Dan must have felt like a scheming demon had suddenly cast a wicked spell. How evil! The only way to break such a curse was to roll up the sleeves, dig down, author a bill. The legislation he drafted mandated that North Carolina history stay put in eighth grade. In the end, he stared the demon down, and his bill became law. (Dan, next time I see a ghost I’m calling you).

      “I love North Carolina, and I did not want to leave any part of North Carolina out,” he says, referring to his three volumes, in which all one hundred counties are represented, a ghost story from each one. And history in each, too. “You can go to all one hundred counties and find something special,” he says. “From Dare County to the Tennessee line. I enjoy every part of it because of its history.”

      I know what he means. I’ve traveled to all one hundred counties myself, and I’m always amazed at what I find: the memorable people, awe-inspiring sights, and great historical nuggets. There’s a pleasant surprise around every bend—well, except maybe when an apparition appears out of nowhere.

      “I love the state because of its history,” Dan says again, and he seems rather passionate, and I like that—the passion. And yet, he pauses a moment, and I sense he’s gathering himself before ending the interview with a final flourish—I bet he was a great delegate and am sure he’s still a stellar lawyer; I’d like to see him in a courtroom sometime.

      He clears his throat, and the end is short and sweet and to the point—with just enough drama, a bit of a cliffhanger.

      “North Carolina …” he says. “It is history steeped in tradition. And mystery.”

      Scott Mason

      Scott Mason is the star and host of the Tar Heel Traveler feature series and specials for WRAL-TV in Raleigh, NC and author of five books about his Tar Heel Traveler adventures across the state.