Capt. Sluman Gray's final whaling voyage was a long, strange trip.
According to local history, notorious pirate Captain William Kidd visited Milford during his final voyage in 1699, a stop along the way to Boston (where he would be subsequently arrested and imprisoned before being returned to England for trial and execution). Although he actually buried treasure at Gardiners Island just off of Long Island, it's always been believed that he also hid a portion of his fortune on Charles Island, possibly beneath a giant boulder known as Hog Rock. And of course, being a good pirate, he cursed anyone who would go looking for his treasure.
The controversy over the exhumation of the Old Leather Man's remains has come to a conclusion, but the mystery continues ...
Courtney McInvale, author of "Haunted Mystic," talks about growing up in a haunted house, writing her new book and the legend of the Pig Man!
Historian and author Dan W. DeLuca is the leading expert on The Old Leather Man. He recently took the time to answer some questions about everyone's favorite legendary leather-clad wanderer.
For nearly 300 years, this red cape was inhabited by six generations of Bentons -- a few of which apparently still like to call the place home!
Gardner Lake in Salem is known for many things -- its natural beauty . . . its excellent fishing . . . an entire house sitting on its murky bottom . . . and of course, its mysterious piano music that seemingly rises from the depths.
When she was alive, Hannah Cranna was known as "The Wicked Witch of Monroe," a reputation that continues to follow her over 150 years after her death.
If you grew up in the Valley, you’ve probably been to Hookman’s Cemetery (Great Hill Cemetery) in Seymour late at night looking for paranormal activity.
Just because an anonymous wanderer has been dead for over 130 years doesn't mean he can't still be in the headlines.
Just off the coast of Fairfield, a lonely light sits in the Sound -- a safety signal for ships or a beacon for spirits?
On a recent trip to Ossining, New York, we visit the NEW resting place of the Old Leather Man, and were happy to see that Ol' Leathery is doing just fine.
With its long and rich maritime heritage, Connecticut has witnessed more than a fair share of sea monsters and serpents in the waters off its coast.
One of the most popular hiking destinations in Connecticut, the story of Sleeping Giant State Park in Hamden includes Native American legends, dead bodies and, in our case, a sea of poison ivy!
Animal lovers, beware! Over the years, people have told of encounters with a small, vaguely spaniel-like, short-haired black dog. Often, it is described as having come out of nowhere, and despite its sad eyes, being quite happy to have human companionship. Like any good phantom, it leaves no footprints and makes no sound when it barks or howls, yet it leaves quite an impression. For it is said of the Black Dog: "If a man shall meet the Black Dog once, it shall be for joy; and if twice, it shall be for sorrow; and the third time, he shall die."
Here in Connecticut, we've gotten used to wild storms and freak atmospheric events, but none were as unusual as the darkness that descended upon May 19, 1780.
When it comes to eccentric Connecticut vagabonds, none is more renowned than the curious case of the Old Leather Man. But the mystery of the dapper Darn Man of eastern Connecticut is just as compelling.
From its demise in 1646 to this day, there are those who believe a giant ship can be seen after a thunderous gale in the clouds over New Haven harbor, doomed to continually replay its tragic demise forever.
Described as a fearsome cross between a dog, panther and a bear, the legendary and mysterious Glawackus terrorized Glastonbury and the surrounding areas during the middle part of the 20th century.
New York isn't the only state to have a headless, horse-riding phantom who terrorizes hapless travelers.
Although Connecticut has seen -- and burned -- its fair share of "witches," other wielders of dark forces have been alleged to inhabit our fair state. Case in point: The Jewett City Vampires. UPDATED: We recently paid a visit.
Like many cultures around the globe, Connecticut has its own race of magical little people who live on the periphery of civilization.
Growing up in Milford, one of the local stories we all heard about was about a group of giant-headed mutants who lived on the outskirts of town, a band of inbred freaks who were ready to prey Deliverance-style on whoever was careless enough to wander into their midst....
The Damned Story: For centuries in the town of Moodus, odd noises have been heard -- spooky rumblings that have been described as sounding like everything from thunder to trees falling to the Earth itself belching.
One of the most unusual legends in Connecticut history is the story of The Old Leatherman, who was a very real, if unusual, individual. Update: We visit Ol' Leathery's final resting place.
In addition to countless tons of iron, Mt. Riga in Salisbury also gave birth to a more curious commodity, a breed of "damned" mountain folk who would become known as The Raggies.
We know the State Capitol is full of political skeletons, but could it also be the home to the ghost of a governor past?
Bigfoot? Bear? Hoax? The Winsted Wildman may be all or none of these, but it definitely is one of the state's more fun legends.