Friday, October 2, 2026

A Haunting in Central Virginia

Recently, friend and fellow Virginia writer, Joe Maddrey, suggested that we should catch up after a long spell without seeing each other. This sounded good to me, so we decided to meet somewhere between our respective domiciles, which are several hours apart. He's become acquainted with another Virginia writer, Michael Gray Baughan, who has a place out in the sticks near Appomattox, so we settled on meeting at Mike's place for lunch. And yesterday, that is what we did.
 
From here, it was about a two-hour drive, mostly on two-lane back roads, which took me through the little towns of Gretna and Brookneal. On the geocaching map, I saw a cache at a place called Johnson's Mill that looked interesting, so I took a short detour to go after it. And it was cool. The hunt led me down a tiny road with a single-lane bridge (see photo above) and into the woods, where I discovered an old stone dam. Happily, I found the cache, which is pretty old, with no difficulty and in good condition. This set the tone for the day, as the trip went swimmingly.
Mike's place (which is not his full-time home but his wife's family's ancestral dwelling) is way the hell out in no-man's land, and while the GPS map came in handy, the directions Joe sent me in advance were most useful. There's a couple of hundred acres here, some of it farmland, but most of it wooded. The house itself is well over a century old, and Mike has been busy with a one-man restoration project — and, as far as I'm concerned, his progress is phenomenal. He's put on a whole new roof, rebuilt the front porch, constructed a few outbuildings (including a first-class outhouse) with wood from trees he cut and made into lumber, refurbished the full interior, and much more. If ever anyone defined "handy" to me, Mike is that gentleman — and he is a most gracious host.
 
Not to mention he's a writer. Joe sent me his story collection, The Ana Log & Other Anomalies, which I've not read yet, but it's coming in the queue.
 
He gave us a detailed tour of the house and a portion of the grounds, regaling us with tales of the place's history as well as many engaging personal anecdotes. Since there aren't any dining establishments anywhere nearby (and you can sure there's no Doordash or other food delivery), Joe and I brought our own lunches (I picked up some chicken tenders in Brookneal), and we sat outside at a lovely wooden table Mike had made by hand. Then we sat, drank beers, and shot the shit for the better the part of the afternoon.
 
A most excellent meeting of the minds, I'd say. I'd be hard-pressed to imagine much better than than three scary writers together in a lovely, remote location swapping stories. Silly me, though; I took plenty of photos of the location, but none of us together. I reckon the three us will have to meet up again sometime soon and have a regular author photo shoot.
 
I could cope with it.
Mike's home away from home out in the wilds of central Virginia
One of the lovely views inside the house
The only photo I took featuring Mike (left) and Joe (right)
This is one of Mike's photos from a while back, but it's essentially the view we had while sitting and shooting shit