The Big House at Equen Plantation in Minter City, Mississippi, held significant historical and cinematic value before its unfortunate destruction over three years ago. This grand structure was a part of the rich tapestry of the Mississippi Delta, and its inclusion in the movie The Help further cemented its cultural legacy.
One memorable kitchen scene from the film was shot there, showcasing the light green-colored kitchen that added a sense of authenticity and nostalgia to the setting. While the house is no longer standing, its memory lives on through stories, photographs, and its role in cinematic history.
The Big House. Equen Plantation, Minter City. Unfortunately it burned down over 3 years ago.one of the kitchen scenes from the movie, The Help, were filmed here. The kitchen had a light green color.
Have you ever visited or explored Chalk Mine Hollow in Iuka?
Located near Pickwick Lake, this abandoned chalk mine is about the size of a Wal-Mart and includes three long tunnels, which are connected by numerous passageways. Although the site is not attended, locals have hiked to the mine and explored its interior for years now.
The site was originally used during the Civil War to mine for chalk. The chalk was then used to make gunpowder.
The Hauntings of Davenport House
Inspired by true events
The Hauntings of Davenport House
Inspired by true events
Not far from the heart of Ocean Springs, where time seemed to crawl slower than anywhere else, stood a house painted in a bright canary yellow with white trim. This house, surrounded by centuries-old oak trees and azaleas in perpetual bloom, was known as the Davenport House, a relic of the 18th century once owned by Dr. Davenport himself. The road leading to it, aptly named Davenport Lane, whispered tales of its past with every leaf that fell.
The house had seen many renovations, each one more ambitious than the last. Around 1972, a new resident, filled with dreams of grandeur, decided to modernize it, but the spirits that lingered within did not take kindly to these changes.
The first realized spirit was thought to be that of Dr. Davenport himself. On the nights when the moon hung low, his ghostly figure could be seen sitting on the newly constructed staircase, his eyes filled with silent rage. His life's work, his architectural masterpiece, had been altered, and he sat there, a sentinel of sorrow, for the disruption of his peace.
Then there was the spirit of his wife, Mrs. Davenport. She walked the porch with an ethereal grace, her presence felt but seldom seen. Her spirit roamed, always vigilant, ensuring that no further harm would come to their beloved home. Her protective nature turned malevolent when a grand party was thrown to celebrate the renovations' completion. With 200 guests, the laughter and music drowned out the usual creaks and whispers of the house, stirring the spirits into a frenzy.
Later haunting intensified. Objects moved on their own, cold spots roamed the corridors, and the air grew thick with dread. The most chilling event occurred during a sleepover when a visiting little girl, forced awake from her sleep,saw a woman in Victorian attire, clutching a parasol, walking through the azaleas. The girl described how the woman's eyes were hollow, her face a mask of sorrow, as she glided silently through the bushes. The little girls story, like so many before hers, fell of deaf ears except for her mother who would never allowed her daughter to enter the house again.
The mother of the house, unnerved by the thought of these stories, encountered a spectral child within the walls of their home. This ghostly little girl played with toys that vanished when approached. Her laughter, though innocent, chilled the air around it.
The terror reached its peak when the father, driven by sheer terror after witnessing spectral figures moving through the house, armed himself. In the dead of night, believing he was defending his family, he fired shots and swung wildly with a knife at shadows that seemed to take form, only to dissipate into thin air.
Not long before the residence decided to sell, the grandmother, who stayed in the now renovated slave quarters, had her own horrifying experience…. The grandmother was an old, kindly woman who missed her late husband deeply. She had stories of the past more vivid than memories themselves. That night, she awoke to the sensation of being watched. Opening her eyes, she saw, standing at the foot of her bed, a figure a ghastly humanoid figure whose eyes not angry but filled with a longing gaze, as if pleading for peace for his beloved home. The sight was so unnerving that even her screams filled the air all night. Once she calmed, with a clearer mind, she knew then, as surely as she knew her own name, that the house was beyond saving.
The family, unable to bear the continuous terror, fled the house. The old mansion, now a beacon of dread, stood empty for years until it was eventually torn down. But the spirits did not leave with the demolition. They remained, tethered to the ground where the house once stood, waiting for another home to rise, another family to torment.
Locals say that even now, on quiet nights, if you listen closely, you can hear the faint echoes of music from forgotten parties long past, and see fleeting shadows moving through the azaleas, forever guarding the memory of the Davenport House.
Author’s notes:
These events did happen! They were only changed and shortened for the enjoyment of the reader. Happy Halloween
