KENDALL KESSLER'S OIL PAINTING DIARY

Thursday, April 24, 2014

Radford City Ghost Story near The Blue Ridge Parkway and Clyde Kessler poems published in Rose Red...

My Artwork


pinkwavecopyrightPink Wave   Original 30"x40" Oil Painting            $2425.00

Prints on Paper or Canvas Available at   KENDALL KESSLER ART

I thought it would be a good idea to put up a Spring painting.  Pink Wave was inspired by the beautiful Cherry blossom trees at the Radford Public Library.



bridgewildwoodcopyrightView from Bridge at Wildwood Park   Original 30"x40" Oil Painting   $2425.00

Prints on Paper or Canvas Available at    KENDALL KESSLER ART

Wildwood Park is becoming more beautiful each Spring Day!






Radford City Ghost Story


I had no idea there were so many ghost stories in Southwest Virginia!  Here is another one!


A Former employee of Macados on main street in Radford wrote about a ghost story in 2005.  The restaurant is modern and beautifully decorated on the outside but there is an old basement section with two pantries. 

In one section there is a window with glass that is not visible from the outside.  The restaurant was once The Radford Veterans of Foreign Wars.

Supposedly there is a woman dressed in grey in the downstairs section and employees are told not to talk about her.  Articles fly off the shelf at times and one cook says he did actually see her.  They were face to face and then she faded away!

I got this ghost story from ghostvillage.com

Life with The Word and Bird Man - Clyde Kessler

My husband is really tearing up the publishing turf these days!  He just published two poems in the online magazine Rose Red!  This is the third issue of this publication that he has had work in! 


Yea Word Man!

It is an interesting coincidence that one of the poems he published is about ghosts since I have been having a great time researching local ghost stories!

A Mount Juliet Ghost
Clyde Kessler
An old lady drowned in Nashville.
She was almost ghost of the year, blind.
Somebody heard a twanging in the oaks
and said she’s home by the soul’s voice
dreaming a tree that walks through stars.
None of a moonrise’s gold could fetch
her mind in a séance. A photographer
leased her apartment above a salon,
threw his best camera at a cop car,
it struck and killed a deputy by no luck.
You see vengeance spelled with a flood
is still the soul prying itself from hate.
You can build a new house in Mount Juliet.
You can throw parties that marry you off
imprisoned. The old lady walks you home.

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