Good ghosts of Escanaba
ESCANABA — The October moon hangs like a big orange pumpkin in the sky. All around north Escanaba, attics and basements take on an eerie glow! A chilly wind rustles the jack pines and rusty acorns scatter from the oak trees. Friendly ghosts arise from their slumber! Around brick chimney posts, coffee pots brew on woodstoves that have been gone for decades. Age old aromas of baking bread, cabbage soup, smoking hams and cinnamon from povitica and apple pie, fill the air. In a peaceful attic between an antique steamer trunk and a pile of Iron Port newspapers (one of Escanaba’s ...