Period ghost stories

[Capt. Bo of the WTF co.]

Back in elementary school I read a ghost story book from the school library i wish I had now. It was full of those really old ones. The one that comes to mind first ,(I can only remember bits of it), is about the devil wrestling with a preacher somewhere back east in early colonial times. They wrested around all over the grounds of the church and they even went onto the roof at one point. They both rolled off and when the devil hit the ground he left a foot/hoof print in the sandstone around the grounds of the church. There was even a photograph in the book that showed the "foot/hoofprint". Anyone familiar with this one? I'd love to hear it again.

Bo

[Red Sea Trade]

Not a supernatural story (although one participant might disagree), but a spooky nautical yarn regardless:

My father was in the US Navy in the Second World War. He had not been to sea before, but his father had been a sailor and he had read about nautical history extensively. His ship left Norfolk for the long voyage to the South Pacific. My father was a Gunner's Mate, and one of his gang was a big, mean, swaggering bully named McCoy. My father was no match for McCoy physically, but he knew that he could out think him any day.

My father quietly watched McCoy, looking for his weakness. It took some time, but my father realized that McCoy, for all his bluster, was both extremely ignorant and extremely superstitious. Now, it was just a matter of time before my father could spring his trap.

The ship was sailing toward Guadalcanal with a load of Marine fighter bombers. The ship was steaming west in hot, humid weather. One night, after lights out, my father and some of the Gunners Gang were trying to get some fresh air topside. McCoy was there, blustering and bullying as usual. Suddenly, a voice from the watch cried out "Shut off those damned lights!"

My father looked up, and he saw faint, greenish lights rolling up and down the radio antenna and the masts. Not lights, but Saint Elmo's Fire. A few of the experienced sailors knew what it was, but none of the fresh fish. None, that is, except my father.

My father leaned his arm out over the side of the ship, letting it trail in the breeze as it blew by. Slowly, green fire began to shine along my father's arm and drip from his fingers in the wind. McCoy's eyes grew as big as saucers. My father swirled his hand in the air, letting the liquid pool in his palm like mercury. He "scooped" it up into a ball, then called out to McCoy, who was standing close by. "Here, why don't you try. You aren't AFRAID, are you?"

By now, McCoy's primitive mind was almost overcome with horror. He couldn't speak, but merely gibbered in abject terror. My father grinned like a maniac, scooping up more of the magical fire and, with a flourish, thrust it at McCoy. The bully screamed and ran, cowering below decks until daylight. And his bullying days were over.

Oh, and Captain Bo, I wonder if the book you are thinking of was called "Strangely Enough". I read that in elementary school around 1973 and vividly remember the Devil's footprint. The author's name was Colby and, until my last move, I actually had a paperback copy of it in my collection.

[Capt. Bo of the WTF co.]

YES!!! That was the book! Thanks.

Bo