Frequent visitors to Exchange Place might be well acquainted with the site’s resident ghost: Aunt El.  She is a mischievous and sometimes moody “haint,” who enjoys playing tricks on the living.  If you’ve lost your keys or seen a door mysteriously open or close, a volunteer might say, “Oh that’s just Aunt El.”

So, who was this woman whose spirit lingers beyond the grave?

Amanda Ellen Steadman was born in 1860 and lived most of her adult life at Roseland, the massive triple pen log house that was moved to Exchange Place in the 1990s. Amanda Ellen remained single all her life and was known affectionately by her family as “Aunt El.”  She was very gifted with spinning, weaving, and sewing (as was common for “spinsters” in the 19^th century).

Though Aunt El never bore any children and generally remained aloof to them, she was very fond of her niece, Mary Lee Shipp. Tragically, Mary Lee died at just four years old after—according to family lore—she licked the wooden paddle clean at an apple butter stir. (Oddly, she died in July, while apple butter stirs generally took place in the autumn.)  Aunt El was so distraught at Mary Lee’s death that she worked day and night to make a coverlet for the coffin and interwove the threads with fresh flowers.

Aunt El died in 1939 and was buried in the family cemetery on a ridge overlooking the original site of Roseland—off Wilcox Drive near Eastman Chemical Company. But her spirit supposedly never left her home. Steadman family members recalled strange occurrences around the house after Aunt El passed. Mary Birdwell and Carole Carroll, great-nieces of Aunt El, recalled a particular red quilt that would be jerked off the bed, which left them shivering in the winter cold (and with thoughts of Aunt El’s ghost lurking about!)  They also remembered organ music coming from Roseland’s parlor when no one was playing the instrument and sounds of glass breaking throughout the house. Clearly, Aunt El could not rest.

When Roseland was moved to the Exchange Place farm, Aunt El’s spirit apparently traveled with it.  She continues to taunt volunteers and guests and has become quite the scapegoat for anything that goes amiss on the site. She often gets blamed if the burglar alarm goes off or a light is left on. She has even been known to lock people in her old bedroom in the upstairs of Roseland! Overall, though, Aunt El is a comforting, albeit sometimes prankish, companion.