The Haunting Of Quay
                                    House
                                     
                                    By James Donahue
                                     
                                    About 100 miles north of Detroit, Highway 25 winds along the shore of Lake Huron on its way to the tip of Michigan’s
                                    Thumb District. Among the small towns and settlements it passes through is the small community of Richmondville. 
                                     
                                    Once an active port lumber town and stagecoach stop, Richmondville was all but destroyed during
                                    a forest fire that swept much of the state in 1871. Today the place is comprised of a bar, general store, a few summer homes
                                    and a row of abandoned buildings. Across the highway from the bar stands the Quay House, a building that once served as a
                                    stage coach stop, inn and town Post Office.
                                     
                                    Some years
                                    back I was fortune enough to meet and interview an elderly woman who then occupied the building, by then converted to be a
                                    rambling old home. She was a direct descendent of the man for whom the building bore its name, Captain Quay. I have since
                                    forgotten his first name, or hers. The woman had an interesting ghost story to tell that not only involved the house, but
                                    the town.
                                     
                                    It seems that the Quay family always occupied the house, even when it was an inn. There was a young
                                    teenage daughter that fell in love with one of the sailors that worked on a ship making regular calls at the town’s
                                    dock. 
                                     
                                    The mother did not like the thought of her fair daughter getting involved with a traveling sailor
                                    and ordered her to stop seeing the man. When the daughter disobeyed, she found herself locked in her upstairs bedroom each
                                    time that particular ship moored at Richmondville. 
                                     
                                    Like all
                                    teens, the daughter found ways to escape and continue with nightly rendezvous with her lover. In a frantic effort to break
                                    up the relationship, the girl was moved into a bedroom that could be entered only through the master bedroom where the mother
                                    slept, and that mother kept a watchful eye on her whereabouts the next time the ship made a stop. 
                                     
                                    The girl pleaded and sobbed, but was prevented from reaching the arms of her love that day. The
                                    ship sailed. There was a storm, and the ship was lost. The young sailor was never seen again.
                                     
                                    The girl
                                    was heart broken. She spent her days walking the shore, and standing on the dock waiting for her lover to return. One day,
                                    when the news of the loss of the ship reached Richmondville, she waded out in the water and drowned herself. To this day her
                                    spirit is said to walk the beach at Richmondville. Summer vacationers report seeing the pale white image of a weeping young
                                    girl in a flowing white gown, on misty dark nights. 
                                     
                                    Quay House
                                    also is quite haunted. The old woman said things have a way of falling from tables, pictures drop from the walls, and electrical
                                    appliances sometimes turn on without anybody being in the room. 
                                     
                                    There is a contemporary part of this story that makes it even darker than it already
                                    is. After I wrote this story for the newspaper I worked for at the time, a group of religious fanatics from a Detroit area church decided to come to Richmondville and conduct an exorcism. 
                                     
                                    Since it involved spiritual matters, they assumed
                                    it was “of the devil.” The event received a lot of publicity when the Detroit
                                    newspapers picked up the story. The whole affair was turned into a circus, and the people of Richmondville wanted no part
                                    of it. 
                                     
                                    I doubt if that bunch of loonies found a trace
                                    of that spirit. As far as I know, it still walks the beach along Highway 25, waiting for a ship that will never return.