Before the time men walked the earth, Indians believed there was a primeval era when strange and awful creatures existed. Perhaps it was their way of explaining the Age of Dinosaurs. Today they only remain in legends. Or do they?
Lake Manitou (from the Algonquian word ma-ne-to, meaning spirit or supernatural force), a 731-acre lake one mile east of Rochester, hides a secret— the Manitou Monster! According to an Indian legend, the lake was—and may still be—the home of Meshekenabek, a serpentlike water creature, much like that of Scotland’s Loch Ness.
Before the white man came to the area, there was an Indian village near the lake. One day the Indians heard a great disturbance coming from the lake. The water became agitated and churning and waves rushed from the vortex lapping at the shore. With a thunderous heave a giant creature rose from the core of the maelstrom. Meshekenabek, the devil serpent!
Meshekenabek came out of the lake and wrought havoc on the village. One Indian, Messou’s cousin, one of the villages finest young braves, was killed during the quaking event.
Fearfully the Indians watched the great hulk sink back into the depths of the lake. Then they saw Messou pushing his canoe into the churning waters. The whole village begged him to return. He didn’t listen. He was intent on seeking vengeance on the creature that had killed his cousin. The villagers watched as he paddled toward the middle of the lake and disappeared.
The Indians had lived close to the lake and fished its waters for generations, but now they left, moving their villages away from the “dark lake,” never to fish its waters again.
When the first white men came to the shores of Lake Manitou, they built a mill and a settlement. The Indians tried to warn them of the monster and the bad luck in the lake but to no avail. John Lindsay, the first blacksmith in the area, noticed a disturbance on the surface of the lake. He couldn't believe his eyes. It was a monster.
In recounting his tale he described the creature as a snakelike beast, about sixty feet long and dingy in color with large yellow spots. The head was about three feet across the frontal bone and had the shape of a cow's head. No one believed Lindsay. A few who heard the story commented that he must've been looking through a glass—a glass of whiskey.
In 1838 a boatload of men were fishing when they saw the monster and quickly rowed to shore. The description was the same as that of Lindsay’s. This time someone did listen. The Logansport Telegraph reported the sighting. George Winters, the artist, sketched his conception of the monster for the Telegraph article, which was published August 11, 1838.
There was a great deal of talk about forming an expedition and making an attempt to capture the monster. The newspaper article “traveled” to New England’s east coast where “men of the sea” offered their services. Some even came to the area bringing huge nets and whaling harpoons. But the monster refused to surface again. After several days they grew weary of waiting and returned to New England.
No more sightings were reported until 1849 when the Logansport Journal ran a headline: “The Devil Caught at Last.” Could this be true? People traveled miles to just get a glimpse of Meshekenabek. The monster turned out to be a huge buffalo carp weighing several hundred pounds, with the head alone weighing thirty pounds. A few remaining Indians did not believe it was possible, insisting the monster was supernatural, unable to be caught by Indian or white men. The town became skeptical of the monster found.
Then in 1888 Phillip Cook caught a giant spoonbill catfish in the lake. It was so large he enlisted the aid of three others to help him bring it in. Once the fish was landed the men estimated its weight to be 116 pounds. Could this then be the real Lake Manitou Monster? For a time Cook exhibited the huge fish. Then he cut it up and sold it for ten cents a pound, at the time a high price. He had no problem selling the fish—it seems as if nearly everyone wanted to have a piece of the Manitou Monster.
There hasn’t been a sighting in over a hundred years. But longtime residents whose families have lived in the area since the first sightings say that the Manitou Monster is still lurking in the depths of this largest lake in Fulton County. They and their relatives have heard a deep booming roar, especially in the quiet of winter nights.
Others will smile and shake their heads; “It's just the ice shifting on the lake.”
We can all wonder.
Silently she enters the room. As the man and his wife sleep she watches. Who are these people? Uninvited they and their children have moved into her home as if they belong there.
True, they haven’t interrupted her nightly routines nor do they get in her way. Still she can’t help wondering if they know this was her house!
The inhabitants of Sister Sarah's house described the apparition as a female with long hair, wearing a light-colored dress. She is more like a shadow than a real woman.
Bob Bradway had been looking for a house to buy. The old two-story farmhouse on Fort Wayne Road, east of County Road 825 East, not too far from Rochester, was just the place the family of seven needed. There was plenty of room for their five little girls to play both inside and outdoors. Nobody mentioned the house was haunted. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway because the Bradways didn’t believe in ghosts.
One day shortly after the family moved in, they were exploring the grounds when they noticed some pine trees in a field behind the house. Almost buried in the thick brush between the trees they discovered an old family cemetery. One of the stones bore the weathered inscription:
Sarah McIntire
Wife of R. McIntire
Died Nov. 4, 1873 at the age of 33
Not too long after that discovery they were first visited by the specter.
Often during the night when the children were in bed and the parents were relaxing downstairs, they’d hear someone walking upstairs. “It wasn’t an old house’s floor creaking.” Bob said, “We heard footsteps.” They accused all of the girls; everyone denied making the noise.
As the days turned into weeks the parents still heard someone walking upstairs long after the children had been put to bed. Late one night they heard a different noise. The door at the foot of the stairs leading to the second floor squeaked open. They then heard the familiar footsteps. Bob was certain that this time he would catch one of the girls.
Quietly he made his way up the stairs. He didn’t encounter one of his children in the hallway but instead the ghost! Both stood looking at each other. Then the phantom disappeared like a puff of smoke.
After the parents discussed the sighting and after many nights of hearing someone walking across the upstairs floor they began referring to the ghost as Sister Sarah. They chose this name because of the name on the moldering tombstone nearly hidden in the pine trees.
“Whether she really is Sarah, that’s something only the ghost would know. We named her Sister Sarah because she had become a part of the family,” Bob explained. Sometimes she visited without materializing, appearing as a burst of warm air.
They never had any real problems with Sister Sarah. She didn’t seem to be malicious or angry, just as much a part of the house as the floors she walked during the day and late at night or the squeaky door she felt compelled to open from time to time.
The only time Sarah made her displeasure known was when she overturned a Christmas tree one night. All the family was in bed asleep when they were awakened by the sound. Rushing downstairs they found the tree had been toppled over. Many of the ornaments and bulbs were broken. At first the family blamed