October 21, 2007

The ghosts of Johnson-Neel House

By O.C. Stonestreet

“Johnson-Neel House. ca 1830 S side of NC 150 0.4 mi. W of jct with SR 1304, Mooresville vic.,” reads an entry in “An Inventory of Historic Architecture, Iredell County, N.C.”

This description of the house is, to say the least, about as exciting as old wallpaper, but it’s a sort of shorthand way of saying that this is a structure of historic interest, built within a few years, either way, of 1830; that it is located on the south side of N.C. Highway 150; that it is about four-tenths of a mile west of the junction of N.C. 150 and State Road 1304, in the vicinity of Mooresville; and that the house has associations with the Johnson and Neel families.

The builder of the house is said to have been a man named Simonton, and the story goes that he left for the West before the main house was completed.

There is, however, much more to the house than this. To begin with, it is one of the oldest, if not the oldest, brick houses in the county, and merely having the financial wherewithal to build a large structure with brick indicates its builder was a person of means. It would have been much cheaper and quicker to have built with the readily available hardwood in the area.

A close inspection of the house and grounds will also reveal to the trained eye that there is something peculiar about the house’s orientation: The front door is at the back, and what is used now for a front door was actually a back door.

Why? Well, when the house was built, the main road, a stagecoach route from what is now Mooresville to the river, ran along the crest of the hill behind the house.

In 1911, the hard-surfaced road now in use was laid down, today’s N.C. 150, going to the spot where two Mooresville gentlemen, Messrs. James W. Brown and Augustus B. Troutman, were building a metal bridge across the Catawba River.

Older residents still call this the “River Road,” although newcomers tend to call it the “Lake Road.” Its North Carolina Department of Transportation correct name is “River Highway.”

Inside the two-story dwelling, one finds fine Federal period details, such as the ceiling medallion of a style known as “Rose of Sharon,” finely crafted banisters, beautiful fireplace mantels and other details, which proclaim that the first residents were people of quality. Ceilings are 11 feet high and the walls are of 18-inch thick brick, probably handmade on the premises.

The original kitchen is in a separate building, as was the custom in antebellum homes. This helped to keep the house cool in the summer. It originally was located between the house and present-day N.C. 150, but has been moved to the back and side. The original porch has also been removed and a modern kitchen added on. 

What the occasional visitor may not see are the ghosts that are said to be residents. Why would one believe the house had spirits? Well, there are the doors that suddenly slam shut.

“Wind drafts” you say.

What about the sounds of someone walking on the second floor?

“That’s just the sound of the house settling, or boards expanding or contracting in response to changes of temperature and humidity. Or perhaps its the plumbing, pipes doing whatever it is that pipes do to make noises,” you reply.

What, then, of the blood stains on the steps?

“Who knows if it’s really blood?” you respond. “Could be almost anything from stove polish to furniture stain.”

Then too, there are the stories associated with the house. One story is about a Tennessee horse trader who, presumably, was killed for his money. After he was shot or stabbed or both, he was dragged up the stairs and his body secreted in an attic until it could be disposed of.

Another story says a Confederate soldier, a deserter perhaps, was shot here by other soldiers. However, whether the shooters were Confederates or Federals is not clear. The two bullet holes said to be in the front door may have something to do with this legend.

A minister who once lived in a house near the Johnson-Neel House told the following story:

One day he was working in his own basement. His wife said she needed to do a little shopping in Mooresville and that she would pick up something for their lunch while she was out, if that was OK with him. He told her that would be fine and he resumed repairing something on his workbench.

A short while later, he heard footsteps coming down the basement stairs and he turned to say to his wife that he hadn’t expected her back so soon. When he turned, however, it was not his wife he saw, but a man in a Civil War uniform. The figure did not say a word.

The preacher turned away, blinked hard, and then turned back. The figure was still there, but slowly began to fade before his eyes.

The minister stated categorically that he had not been thinking about ghosts, the Civil War or anything along that line, and is still at a loss as to what he saw.

As to the present owners, Alex and Daisy Beam, they have heard squeaks and thumps and such in the 10 years they have lived there, but nothing you wouldn’t expect to hear in a house of that age.

Mrs. Beam dismisses claims of the supernatural with a chuckle. “We personally don’t believe in ghosts and such, but to each his own,” she says.

The old Johnson-Neel House still stands by the River Road, as it has stood for more than 170 years. There is still time for more legends and tales to be told, retold or invented about it.