Dalton, Georgia is best known as the Carpet Capital of the World, but some Daltonians claim it is also rich in supernatural history and legend. A discontent Indian chief buried below railroad tracks and The Wink Theater are two examples of local sites that reportedly abound with paranormal activity.

Chief Red Bird is perhaps the most famous ghost of the area. The Cherokee Indian chief loved horse racing. His track ran south from his home, the length of what is now Thornton Avenue. During a race, he was thrown from his horse and died from the injuries. According to local legend, he's buried under the railroad tracks of downtown Dalton, and his spirit still haunts the area.

Train crews have reported seeing an eerie light on some dark nights as they round the bend near the Crown Cotton Mills. Some believe it is the manifestation of Chief Red Bird upset with the tracks covering his grave.

Marcelle White, of the Whitfield-Murray Historical Society, doesn't believe there is any truth to the legend. While she admits there have been a number of automotive wrecks on the road crossing the point where the chief is reportedly buried, she is convinced it's merely coincidence.

"There's never been a train wreck," she says. "If he were as powerful as they say, why does he allow them to keep running over him?"

Once a skeptic himself, Dale Hurst of Dalton is now a firm believer in another reportedly haunted site, the Wink Theater.

"I think anybody who goes inside that theater, whether or not you believe in ghosts or not, will sense a presence. What kind, I don't know," Hurst says.

The theater, located on West Crawford Street in downtown Dalton, was built in 1938 by J.C.M. Wink. The first air conditioned building in town, it operated as a movie theater with a removable screen for live performances.

Local legend tells of a black man who was killed during the construction of the theater. He is said to have been buried on the site.

Hurst and his family came to Dalton in 1971 when his father, Leon Hurst, took over the management of The Wink.

The theater underwent remodeling in 1972. That's when the senior Hurst began to speak of hearing strange noises, like hearing things running up and down the stairs at night after the theater was closed.

One night, Leon Hurst was alone upstairs in his office located behind the lobby. He had already checked to make sure no one else was in the building and that all the doors were locked.

Off to the side of the lobby is a stair way that goes from street level to the projection room. It was the entrance used by blacks during segregation.

On this particular occasion, Hurst heard the unmistakable sound of the large metal containers, which film used to be sorted in, bumping noisily down the stairs.

Upon investigation, he found nothing.

Dale Hurst brushed his father's tales off as figments of his imagination.

"I have two college degrees," the junior Hurst says. "I consider myself to be pretty well educated and scientifically oriented. You've got to prove something to me. Just because something goes bump in the night doesn't mean I think there's a ghost, spirit or something like that."

It wasn't long before Dale Hurst was presented with the proof he needed to become a believer.

He was working as the projection operator and janitor at The Wink during this time, which left him alone in the theater up until three a.m. on some occasions.

He remembers one night vividly.

"I was almost finished cleaning up," Hurst says. "The isle ways are long and sloped, running 120-130 feet to the screen. I was down front sweeping. I had music playing. My back was to the seats. I was on the far left side facing the wall. For no apparent reason the music got real quiet."

At first he didn't really pay much attention to the decreased volume of the music. Then he heard something that demanded his full attention.

"It sounded like a tall guy, with about a size 15 shoe, running so clumsily that his feet slapped the floor as he ran," Hurst recalls.

He fearfully waited for it to reach him, convinced he would suffer a heart attack when the moment arrived. He knew he had to turn around, but was afraid to.

Suddenly the music returned to the level Hurst had it set on. He turned, and saw nothing.

On another occasion, the junior Hurst claims to have felt a presence in the projection room.

Every 20 minutes or so he was required to change over the reels. After completing a change over he went outside the projection room where a few seats are located just behind the other balcony seats. Hurst sat down to watch the movie.

It was summer time. It was a nice, sunny weekend day. He had no reason to be afraid. After all, it was broad day light.

"There was a metal stool in the projection room. Suddenly it sounded as if someone had picked up the chair and started beating the walls with it," he says.

Hurst describes the noise as very loud and terrifying. Based on the construction of the theater and the location of the projection room and where Hurst sat, it is impossible to imagine how anyone could have entered the projection room with out his knowledge.

Hesitantly, he went to investigate only to find everything just as he'd left it moments before.

The historic theater was purchased by Dalton native Troy Hall in 1997. It is currently under renovation, and is expected to be completed within the next few years.

Hall does not believe in ghosts.

"I believe everything is explainable," Hall states. "I have never seen a ghost. If I see one, I'll believe it then."

Hall has heard strange sounds in the building on occasion but says, "You hear sounds in old buildings. This is not unusual."

However, a man working on renovations for Hall isn't as confident about the noises he hears and doesn't like to be alone inside.

To this day, Hurst believes something other worldly is going on behind the walls of the theater.

"There's no doubt about it," Hurst says. "There's something there. Whether it's good, bad or indifferent, it's there."

Copyright © 2002 Connie Scott

About the Author Connie Scott is a freelance writer who periodically does features stories for "The Daily Citizen-News" and "The Whitfield-Murray Advertiser." She resides in Tunnel Hill, Georgia with her husband and three small children, where she is currently working on her first novel, entitled "A Family Thing." Concerned that she's not busy enough, she's recently become responsible for the "lifestyle" section of her local newspaper. And, yes, when told that we needed a photo of her forthwith for this article, what did this literary lioness do? Why, she marched her brood right down to the mall and got the shots you see here in a photo booth! Maybe she didn't think Kudzu Monthly would run the pictures. Heck, we'll run anything that's in good taste...