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Picture of Early Clinton Street Scene
    The above Lowden street scene was taken during the gas street light era. Note that what we now know as Main Street was called Clinton St.

The Frightened Ghost

    Halloween evening had arrived in Lowden, the gaslights were to burn brightly. A light rain had been falling for a few hours and the assistant Town Marshall was assigned to light the lamps. He carried a two-step stool as he walked from one light to another. As he approached the lamp-post at the corner of Washington Ave. and Fifth street, where the Methodist church stood, he noticed a white clad figure peering from behind the church building and then ducking back to stay hidden. The Marshall suddenly realized he was to be the recipient of a scare, so he decided to play along with it and give the “ghost” a chance to sneak up behind him. The Marshal glanced back and saw the white hooded and sheeted creature approaching. The Marshal also had his plans, as he intentionally fumbled for a match to light the lamp, he also took a pistol from his pocket. The white character was now only a few yards behind him as the Marshall quickly turned and yelled, “Look Out”! And fired a shot skyward. A scared rabbit could not have taken off and run any faster than did this “ghost”. For a fast getaway, he ran in the direction he had come. This was towards a board walk that led from the street to the front of the church. The walk was a bit higher than the grass and mud. It tripped him enough, so that he sprawled flat on his stomach in the wet grass. He scrambled to his feet as the Marshal fired in the air again. Now he raced to the corner of the church where a downspout had funneled a goodly amount of water from the light rain. At this spot he tried to make a sharp turn when both feet slipped in the mud and he did a slide on his back similar to a baseball player stealing second.

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    Now of course he was wet and muddy, front and back, head to foot, but this didn't slow his pace. Evidently, the holes in his hood had moved some so his vision was impaired enough so that either his head or his shoulder had hit the downspout, because the Marshal heard a metallic thud, as the poor fellow disappeared.

     The Marshal had not moved from his spot by the lamp-pole because he was laughing so much he couldn't move. For him it was truly a hilarious comedy.

     I heard him relate this story several times, and each time he would giggle all the way through it. He would laughingly say: “That was one time that a ghost got scared.” For several days he tried to discover the identity of his friend or (foe), but he got no one to admit the caper.

     I fondled his “Deputy Marshal” shiny star when I would see it lying on the dresser at home, because the Deputy was my Dad – George Twachtmann.

              Henry (Hank) Twachtmann