The Haunted Oak of Gowen City

In the winter of 1906, tragedy struck the small village of Gowen City in Northumberland County. Monroe Whary, a prominent local miner, ended his life beneath a great oak tree on the outskirts of the hamlet near Shamokin. In an act both shocking and terrible, he tightly secured a stick of dynamite to his head. Whary then lit a match, ignited the detonating cord and waited. Only the distraught miner knows what went through his mind before the detonation took all his worries away. The explosion shattered the stillness of the winter night and left the oak scarred—both in bark and in memory.

Several months passed. Then, in early 1907, newspapers across the county began reporting unsettling accounts.

The February 21, 1907 edition of the Bloomsburg Columbian described lights about the oak—dancing, now wan and nebulous, now bright and glaring. Villagers spoke of low, moaning sounds drifting through the darkness, and at times the distinct report of a heavy explosion, as if the dreadful act were being replayed in the night air. Those who passed the tree after dusk hurried by, casting uneasy glances at its shadowed limbs.

So firmly did some residents believe that Whary’s spirit had returned to haunt the scene of his horrible end that they refused to go near the oak after dark.

At last, four of the bolder men of the village resolved to investigate. They kept vigil one night beneath the tree, determined to settle the matter. Hour after hour they watched. No lights appeared among the branches, nor did any shape stir from the roots.

Yet as the moon sank behind the hills, one of the watchers later declared that a cold hand pressed across his face. He found himself unable to move or cry out, frozen in terror until the unseen presence withdrew. When the moonlight returned, he was free—but pale and shaken.

The men found nothing they could prove. Still, the stories persisted.

And long after 1907, when the wind moves through the old oak at Gowen City, some say the lights flicker still—wan and nebulous, then bright and glaring—and that the miner who met his violent end beneath its branches has never fully left the place.