D© SHADOWICC 2002 - 2008. All Rights Reserved.
DTHE SLASH ROAD FIDDLER - In a forest glen between Upper Slash Rd. and York Rd. outside
Shannonville, On you may be lucky and hear THE FIDDLER . The
woods have a permanent spirit musician.
It has been said that it was the soul of a hunter. Late in the
Fall of 1942 a hunter and his buddies were gathered around a
fire after a day of sport. They were having a bit of the drink
and sang songs as the fiddler played.
Hours and many bottles of booze later , the party was halted in
a sight of horror. The drunk fiddler had fallen into the fire. By
the time his drunken partners had realized what was happening,
it was too late.
The trapped spirit of the Fiddler is another example of a
Residual Haunting. That it when a tragic event has recorded
an imprint in time that is replayed over and over.
This is a entry from John's Journal. Names have not been used
at individuals request.
Sept. 10 /1998 - John's Journal.
It was around 8 o'clock when we packed into the car and headed
to Shannonville. The light was fading fast but the driver knew
where we were going. He had been there many times before. " Is it
real or is it someone playing tricks ? " asked one of the girls.
" Would you want to sit out in the cold, dark forest every night
playing a fiddle ?" giggled the driver. " ha , ha . . very funny."
the girl snapped. " All I know is that I'm going into the woods
to find out . Urban Legend or not" I said . Everybody giggled
and someone said " I dare you , By yourself." I started to feel
the nasty giggle escape my throat as I responded " You have to
be kidding ? You know I'll do it even if you didn't dare me? You
on the other hand . . . why don't you tag along behind me ? I
need a witness ! Come on . . . . you aren't scared are you?" The car
seemed to get quiet and nobody said a word until we arrived.
The last slivers of sunlight were fading away. I grabbed my
flashlight and followed the driver into the woods. The group
was whispering behind us. We had been walking about 10 minutes
when the driver stopped, turned and motioned us to be quiet.
The forest sounds at night can turn the strongest person into
a child. In the bush you could hear twigs snapping, leaves
rustling and in the distance the faint sound of fiddle music.
" No Way " , whispered a girl. " Can you hear it to ?" whispered
the driver. " That's our cue tough guy " I giggled as the group
stood stunned. I then turned off the light and walked into the
darkness. Slowly as the light faded behind me , my eyes started
to adjust to the dark. " Still There ?" I asked. " No problem" came
the answer. As we got closer the music got louder and louder. I
could see the outline of the old rotting hunting camp in the
moonlight. "We're close now " I said but I was met with the sound
of feet running back to the group. I saw the chicken flick his
light on . . . and the music stopped. I hid behind a tree in the
darkness to see if anyone was going to give chase. After 10 min.
I walked back to the group and when I reached them the music
started again. I don't know what we experienced but it was a
definite haunting.
In later years the music has died down. It has been heard only
at times in September. The Slash Road Fiddler is one of many
mysterious places in Shannonville , On.
