Wayne County Wanderings: Book recommendations from a good-natured ghost

Silence reigned in the second floor reading room of the Wayne County Public Library, and that was fine with me.

It was mid-afternoon and for the next half hour or so, it appeared I’d be alone. Owen, our intrepid reference librarian, had just stepped out for lunch and visitors on this rainy spring day were few and far between.

I was deep into research for my next column and needed a bit of solitude, so this little “break in the action” came at the perfect time. It was 15 minutes after Owen left, though, while I was laser-focused on my notes, that things began happening.

Now, I’m not much of a believer in ghosts or the supernatural … but, after my unexpected experience in this pre-Civil War building, that opinion may be changing.

Why hello, Hortense!

The initial feeling came over me gradually, just a little bit at a time.

At first I did my best to ignore it, but after a couple of minutes that became impossible. I stopped writing, put my pen down and took a deep breath. There was absolutely no one in the room. I was sure of that. Nevertheless, I couldn’t shake the feeling that I was being watched.

Summoning up a bit of courage, I looked over at Owen’s desk. Empty.

I swiveled around in my chair, scanning the stacks. Nobody.

Shaking my head and chuckling, I tried to focus once again on the notes spread out on the table.

It was at that moment when I caught a flash of movement out of the corner of my eye. A split second later, before I even had a chance to turn my head, a loud thump echoed through the room.

“What the hell?” I exclaimed, jumping up out of my chair and walking toward the sound. “Haha very funny whoever you are!”

It only took a few seconds for me to cover the short distance, but when I arrived at the spot no one was there. The room was just as empty as it had been since Owen left.

One thing was definitely different, though: There was a book lying facedown on the carpet. I looked at it, then up to the shelf where an obvious gap revealed where it had come from.

“Seriously, what the hell?” I whispered, bending down and picking up the book . It was entitled A People’s History of the United States, written by Boston University professor Howard Zinn.

While I’d never heard of the book or its author, I admit to being a little bit intrigued because it fed right into the column I’d been researching. In fact, it was almost as if someone had decided that I needed to read it. But, who?

So, I headed downstairs with book in hand to try and figure out what was happening. Fortunately, I ran almost headlong into Tracy Schwarz.

Our indefatigable Library Director was headed toward her office with an armful of files, but she happily stopped when I called out to her. Tracy listened patiently as I showed her the book and recounted my story.

“Oh don’t worry about it,” she said with a smile and a mischievous twinkle in her eye. “That’s just Hortense.”

“Hortense?” I asked incredulously. “Who the hell is Hortense?”

“Well, it’s kind of a long story,” she said. “Come on. Let’s go talk in my office.”

Ahead of her time

Hortense Strongman was born at East Barnet, Vermont, in 1874, the daughter of John and Caroline Strongman

Several family members were among the founders of FW Woolworth, including her husband, Byron DeWitt Miller, who eventually became company president.

Hortense was raised and educated in an elite, affluent environment. She lived for a time in London where she’s still remembered for her volunteer efforts during World War I.

After marrying Miller and returning to the States, Hortense became deeply involved in many philanthropic endeavors.

The family eventually settled down in Greenwich, Connecticut. However, they spent the summer months of every year in Wayne County on a sprawling country estate known back then as Bethany Homestead Farms.

At the height of its fame during the 1930s, the property featured 350 acres, a dozen buildings, and employed more than 30 workers. The main house was a bona fide mansion that boasted 72 rooms, swimming pool, gardens and even a theatre.

Hortense died on November 18, 1961 at the age of 87. She left behind many generous bequests in her will .. including one that funded the Wayne County Public Libraries in Bethany and Honesdale.

Years later, the former Seven Maples retirement home, which Hortense had bankrolled, was also deeded to the Wayne County Public Library. That beautiful building, located at 1406 North Main Street, is the library’s current home.

It also appears to be Hortense’s favorite “haunt” … or at least one of them.

Ghostly footfalls

Whispers and rumors of Bethany Homestead Farms possibly being haunted began not long after Hortense’s death.

Nearly all of these stories feature mysterious sounds on the mansion’s second floor. Witnesses typically claim to hear Hortense opening and closing what was once her bedroom door, then walking down the hall to the former nursery.

In 1982, a reporter with United Press International (UPI) and several paranormal investigators spent a night in the mansion. They were accompanied by the former property caretaker Jack Edwards.

Two years earlier, Edwards had been forced to stay overnight during a snowstorm. It was his tale that brought the national press and professional ghost hunters to Bethany.

“I heard footsteps going back to the bedroom, and I heard Mrs. Miller's door close,” Jack told UPI. “There was no one in the mansion, except me.”

Norm Gauthier, the director of the Society for Psychic Research in New England, led the investigation. And, while he couldn’t prove or disprove Edwards’ specific claims that night, Gauthier was quoted as saying he did indeed sense some sort of presence.

“I certainly felt no hostility,” he informed UPI. “The ghost, if there is one, is probably warm and compassionate, perhaps even loving.”

That’s an assessment Tracy Schwarz agreed with whole-heartedly as we sat in her office in the library that would not exist without Hortense.

“I’m here at all hours of the day and night and never once have I felt anything even remotely scary,” she said. “It’s more like a friendly, comforting presence.

“We’ve always thought of Hortense as more of a guardian angel than anything else.”

Coming full circle

And so the end of our story circles right back to where we began.

Tracy and I spent a thoroughly enjoyable half-hour chatting about the supernatural, the library and a fascinating bit of local history.

A beautiful portrait of Hortense has hung for many years just to the left main circulation desk. Some folks claim that she bears a strong resemblance to Tracy, as if she were a long-lost grandmother.

In addition, many of the library’s employees and volunteers claim to have felt Hortense’s presence.

“I actually kind of love the idea of Hortense still being here in some form,” Tracy said. “It seems like she was a strong, independent woman who was definitely ahead of her time. Why wouldn’t we want to celebrate that?”

For my part, I’m genuinely grateful to have crossed paths with Hortense. Even if there turns out to be a logical, scientific explanation for my little episode, the fact remains that her book “recommendation” led to an exhilarating adventure.

More on that in a future column! In the meantime, though, I’ll let Tracy close out today’s installment with these eloquent words of wisdom.

“We all talk to Hortense,” Tracy said with a laugh. “Every time we sense her presence it’s just a warm, comforting feeling. If there are such things as guardian angels or guiding spirits, then I think Hortense is just about perfect for us here.”

This article originally appeared on Tri-County Independent: Could the Wayne County Public Library be haunted?