
A Boyer family Halloween circa 1992. I have gangrene on my face, and my sister Casey, the provider of this photo, looks like one miserable pumpkin. Those were the good old days. ©
I love ghost stories. In fact, I dedicated an Sunday enterprise piece to a few local ghost hunters and the business that could be brought to several in-need historic sites, if they only marketed themselves as “haunted.”
Last night, the partner-in-crime and I had tickets for a historic ghost tour of downtown York. I couldn’t wait.
When we got there, the tour was, more or less, a history lesson with a few “…and this place might be haunted” statements tossed in. Continue reading