on this road that runs north-south between the Ninth and Tenth Concessions. Since the road is seldom travelled, many romantically-inclined young people find it a convenient place to park. A long stretch of road such as this tends to appeal to anyone with a yen for speed. As the story goes, a young motorcyclist from out of town chose to test his speed here one night. Travelling southbound and much too fast, he suddenly caught sight of the end of the road, the Ninth Concession. Approximately 100 metres from the south end, near a large, old willow tree, he lost control and barrelled off into a corn field where he struck a rusty wire fence and was decapitated.
Island Road resident Allene Kane, who lives just north of the Ghost Road, believes in the existence of the ghost. Mrs. Kane was quoted in the Port Perry Star in 1988: “I don’t know why, but there’s definitely something out there, a spirit of some kind.”
A number of years ago Mrs. Kane had invited two psychics to investigate the “ghost light.” Many people had seen (and still do see) a small red light, just a few inches in diameter, supposedly the tail-light of the bike, moving south down the road. Mrs. Kane said, “When we see the light coming toward us, he’s returning up the road (near the willow) to turn around, gather speed, and tear down the road and back into the field. I was standing on the road when this red light just simply went right by me about three feet away.”
The two psychics agreed that there was a presence on the road and it was a young man in his early 20s, with curly light brown hair, riding a motorcycle and wearing a gold helmet. A third psychic from Oshawa visited the site three times and also sensed a presence on the road. She even felt she knew his name: Don or Dave Sweeney.
Mrs. Kane herself admitted to seeing the light several times and firmly believes it to be the headlight of the motorcycle. Naturally, the Ghost Road is frightening to her. Even during daylight she prefers not to travel the road alone. Her fear escalates when she is near the overhanging tree at the south end of the road, the spot where the motorcyclist lost control. She and her son saw an apparition there, together, one summer morning at 6:30 a.m. She described the experience this way: “A very large, ugly, mangy, humongous black cat appeared out of absolutely nowhere. Now, I’m a great cat lover but I didn’t like this cat. It walked down the centre of the road toward the car. I backed up and it kept coming, I backed up again and kept backing up, but the cat still came. Finally it backed me the full mile to the north end of the road, looking at us the whole time.” Mrs. Kane felt that the cat had been an embodiment of the negative spirit of the place.
In 1984, Matt Grant, a Port Perry high-school student, parked on Ghost Road with his girlfriend and two other couples. He thought it would be a great idea to scare the girls with the story of the decapitated ghost rider. He got more than he bargained for when he had the most frightening experience of his life.
They were in the only car parked on the Ghost Road. For one hour they sat, waiting for the light to appear. Suddenly the dashboard lights lit up and the radio began to turn on and off. Everyone in the car started screaming, especially when the door locks began to move up and down on their own as well. Matt later said, “The crazy part of this was that I didn’t know what to do. You see the keys to the car were in my pocket. I couldn’t believe this was happening to us. Next the headrest started rocking me back and forth in my seat and then it ended.” To add to their fear, Matt said that wolves were howling during the whole ordeal.
Some skeptics are convinced the ghost light is just a case of car headlights, travelling down the hilly West Quarter Line, which runs almost directly in the same north-south line as the Ghost Road. They think that when a vehicle travels down the West Quarter Line, at an elevation of more than 1,000 feet, it appears on the lower Ghost Road as a single light coming out of the darkness near the treeline, slowly moving downward and seeming closer than it really is.
In July 1983 Cathy Robb, a journalist with the Port Perry Star, began an investigation into the Ghost Road story. Ms. Robb contacted a retired Ontario Provincial Police officer, Harold Hockins, who had patrolled the island for many years. Mr. Hockins told Ms. Robb, “I’ve policed the island since 1954 and I’ve never heard tell of any fatal accident involving a motorcycle.” Ms. Robb also interviewed the psychic who tried to put a name to the ghost; this psychic pegged the time of the accident at 1973 or 1974. The community hospital records for the time, however, revealed nothing.
In August 1983 a ghost hunting team gathered at the newspaper office in Port Perry armed with walkie-talkies, CBs, a camera with infrared film, two cameras with regular film, a high-powered flashlight, and three vehicles. Part of the group with walkie-talkies and CB radios set up on the Ghost Road.
The other members of the group drove up and down the West Quarter Line. Their headlights soon appeared on the Ghost Road as one light floating out of the night sky. Then they stopped, turned off the headlights, and figured they had just put the phantom out of business.
Then the radio started chattering. “Okay, we see your lights,” said a voice on the Ghost Road.
“We don’t have our lights on,” replied the group on the West Quarter Line.
“Well, we see the light.”
In 1986 six Niagara College film students showed up to do a short documentary and capture the ghost light on film. The first evening everyone prepared for the arrival of the floating light. One student, stationed in the field at the south end of the road where the rider supposedly hit the fence, claims a sphere of light the size of a basketball popped out of thin air and hovered about 60 feet away for a few seconds.
The students not only managed to photograph the light, but to video tape it as well. When the photograph was developed it revealed the fuzzy outline of a human figure bathed in a strong white light — an aura. On the video take the figure is more defined and appears to have legs.
One of the students, Richard Douglas, stated, “We were shocked, quite frankly. It could just be a one-in-a-million sort of thing, but whatever that shape is, it’s certainly coincidental.”
Perhaps the next time you find yourself travelling east on Highway 7A, out of Port Perry, sometime shortly after dusk, you will head left up Scugog Island and test your own ability to see the lights on the infamous Ghost Road.
The Jester’s Court
Restaurant and Pub
~ Port Perry ~
… And he could roast and seethe
And boil and fry
And make a good thick soup
And bake a pie.
Chaucer, “A Cook”
Can you see it, the grand old hotel that sits on the historic main street of Port Perry? Most people have lost sight of it and see instead the building that has taken its place — a restaurant and pub, once the Murray House, now The Jester’s Court. The old hotel is no longer visible yet something remains — the people who once inhabited it!
The Jester’s Court Inn as it appears today.
Imagine for a moment, this hotel as it once was — a two-storey wooden structure with white lace curtains flowing in the window breezes, a genteel lifestyle long-forgotten. Enter by the front door and see the large main foyer graced by an elaborate oak staircase leading to the second floor. To the right is the elegant dining area which overlooks a sparkling stream and the main street. A parlour is located to the left where the amazing price of 25 cents fetches a gallon of whiskey. As evening approaches, the hotel staff routinely lights the candles on the tables and on some of the window sills.
A young couple, here for the night, are seated at the far end of the dining room overlooking the street. They converse with an elderly female staff member with bright eyes and greying hair. A white cotton apron hangs to her ankles. Her job is to welcome guests and to serve them delicious meals. Her smile is genuine and infectious. A single candle flame illuminates the moment.
A young girl plays on the staircase landing with some imaginary friend, all the while taking in the