“Two and a half hours? I have time…..”

This was my last thought before putting my foot to the floor and heading up the desolate Interstate. New Mexico is always a seemingly open landscape, but this drive felt particularly lonely. Appropriate though when one is going to walk the ground of an abandoned ghost town from the 1800’s, and home to a centuries old serial killer…

Elizabethtown once was a thriving town with a population around seven thousand, back in 1866. Panning for gold flakes in the river lead to a booming mine operation. But as the gold rush faded, so did it’s townsfolk.

Whilst at it’s height though, travelers would come from far and wide. Those that wanted to make a permanent residence in the Moreno Valley would open their doors to those looking for a warm bed and a hot meal for the night.

Those that stayed with the Kennedy household found more than they bargained for however. Charles Kennedy had a penchant for killing, and the unlucky folks that entered his doors never left.

As I drive down the muddy dirt road to the remains of Elizabethtown, two horses greet me at the gate. I see distrust and curiosity in their eyes. The crunch of the snow under my footsteps is as loud as thunder in the quiet afternoon.

No one may have ever known about Charles’s desire to kill if it wasn’t for his terrified wife fleeing their home in 1870 to confess to the local law enforcement about the atrocities her husband was committing.

Fourteen people, at least, were either burned or buried by Charles Kennedy, perhaps many more….

I walk the grounds that may very well house the remains of these poor souls, and it chills me to the bone.


Wench, bring my ale, what say you?

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