The Witches of Rathdrum

Although I already have posted my dark story on this site weeks ago, I felt that there's still something I could do for the month of Halloween. So I turn to the folklore of my state of Idaho to see what I could dig up as a sort of ghost story to tell on this blog. And what I found is an intriguing mystery, a rumor to some, but one that is creepy nonetheless.

Taking place on the country roads near a small town called Rathdrum. It lays up in the northern part of Idaho where it sits in a valley of farmland, and mere minutes away from the towering mountains and the pines that stretch in every direction. A place so small that today, the town holds a population of just under 9,000. In the day, people often pass by the town, often to get to places like Washington state or towards the resort town, Coeur d'Alene. However, at night people are less willing to drive on its highways. Especially Highway 41. It is a road that at night could prove to be both pitch dark without using one's brights, and that pine trees obscure the landscape on either side. Highway 41 isn't a straight line, but every so often it curves somewhat that, if a driver isn't careful, could hit something - or someone.

In 1972, the was a scare in the region, rumors of a devil-worshiping cult or a coven of witches who practice black magic (to this day, there's no agreement on this). Most likely sparked when a farmer on Sylte Ranch found cattle that were found mutilated. Others say they found freshly skinned cats hanging on branches of trees along the road. Drivers at night claim to see mysterious fires in fields and within the nearby forest. A year later, a couple from the town, Ronald and Rita Marcussen had disappeared within the forest. About a few weeks later after a search, their bodies were found, but oddly enough, their heads were missing. It wasn't until 1995 that Ronald's skull was found miles away south near Coeur d'Alene by hunters. Disturbingly, it had five bullets in it.

It is no wonder why the locals were afraid to go driving at night with the possibility of a cult that did human sacrifices.

But what does it have to do with the highway?

According to the lore, people who were unfortunate enough to drive down this highway at night when it is pitch black wound find hooded figures. People who stood in the middle of the road, holding hands forming a human chain would stand there, forcing the car to stop before they could hit them. They say that if you stop the car in front of these people would come over and drag you out into the forest to perform whatever ritual they have in mind.

Yet, the most intriguing of all I can find from this urban legend was a newspaper article I came across. The article came from a newspaper called Idaho/West. It's dated Friday, November 5, 1982. Down below, I have transcribed here what it says.

Rumors of devil cults once Rathdrum plague

RATHDRUM (UPI) - Unsettling tales about devil worship in Rathdrum circulated about 10 years ago, sometimes driving settlers away from the North Idaho community and often keeping motorists from seeking gasoline at night.

But today, Rathdrum for the most part has regained its image as a sleepy community of 1,361 - and the rumors about a 'true North Idaho ghost story' did not keep the population from doubling since the early 1970s.

Rumors circulated in 1974 about dark figures in a so-called "human chain" that belong to a cult of devil worshippers that had found a home in Rathdrum. Some travelers told stories about hitting one of the fiends along the highway - only to have the cloaked figure disappear without a trace.

"We used to laugh about it," said long-time resident Sandy Jones. "But after a while..."

At the height of the scare, Kootenai County Sheriff F.E. "Merf" Stalder remembers, deputies were getting reports of "skinned cats, bonfires out in the woods, fires in the road, people in the road, you name it."

And Cour d'Alene psychologist Ron Vieselmeyer said that while helping two clients from the Rathdrum area several years ago, he became convinced some form of devil worship was occurring there. The details must remain confidential, however, he said.

Most Rathdrum residents today say they're stumped as to how the town ever got linked to the Prince of Darkness. Theories range from the downright chilling to the ridiculous. Stalder, who was a detective during the "scare," said the closest thing the deputies ever found to a devil worshipper was a 15-year-old boy who had moved to Rathdrum from California with his parents - and stalked around town at night in a tall hat and a black coat, talking about witchcraft.

The boy attracted three or four other teenagers. Stalder said, but after a few times, the group disbanded.

Several citizens said the rumors might have started after the Tridentine Latin Rite religion, an offshoot of the Catholic Church, immigrated into the Hidden Valley area northwest of Rathdrum.

The Tridentines, also known as the Fatima Crusaders, require their female members to wear traditional blue nuns' habits, and they stood out in conservative Rathdrum.

"I know the people did think we were worshipping the devil," said a 22-year-old Tridentine woman who lived in Hidden Valley during the time. "We were very much opposed to that kind of thing and were, in fact, doing just the opposite."

But the woman, who asked that her name not be used, said she heard of other Tridentine members being accosted by the "human chain," a line of cloaked people rumored to be blocking highways at night.

"Everyone was afraid to drive through Trathdrum for a while," she said.

Other residents speculate citizens in nearby Post Falls might have started the rumors out of spite for Rathdrum - or, perhaps, marijuana farmers were trying to scare away visitors.

Stalder said a rash of strange cattle mutilations reported in the North Idaho area and other western states during 1975 fueled the rumors. Cows were turning up dead with their blood drained and their tongues cut out, he said, and one explanation was that satanic cults were to blame.

Rathdrum historians, however, say they've looked for some factual basis to the stories and can't find a clue.

"People are just really interested in bizarre stories," said David Osterberg of the Westwood Historical Society.

But for a 57-year-old Athol woman, the "human chain" was real.

She said one morning at Kootenal memorial Hospital she overheard a police officer tell a woman that he'd found nothing in a road near Rathdrum where the woman claimed she'd hit someone with her car.

Later that day, the woman said, she heard an injured man in a wheelchair tell someone he'd been hit while serving on the "human chain."