Anderson Corner's Haunted History
And the power of rumors
Old Church Lady Whispers
Growing up in a fairly liberal and religious family, church on Sundays was a fact of life. Bible studies, youth groups, vacation bible school, choir, potlucks, pancake breakfasts, and praise band were the adjacent functions that came along with it. My parents were actively involved in all aspects of the church’s operation: My father was head of the Trustees, essentially the governing body of the church, while my mother was the church’s secretary through-out my early childhood. My brother, who is six years older than me, strayed away for a time in his early adulthood, while I became even more involved in my teenage years as head of the praise band and the youth group’s treasurer, whatever that meant. Regardless of appearances, it always amuses me to think of how much trouble I made and the questionable things I did on the grounds of the church with my other young church friends. It seemed like we were always surrounded by scandal and controversy, whether perpetrated by us or not.
There are handfuls of examples I can use, but this is one of my favorites: Once, a tech-savvy villain installed malicious coding on several of the church computers causing them to become crippled upon start-up. Given our knowledge of DOS (it was the mid-90s), when a batch file with the command /CLS cls.bat1, was found in the computers’ start-up, they immediately blamed the youth group while we emphatically denied our involvement. We denied our involvement until the investigation was given up and everyone moved on with their lives. Most of the youth’s parents were involved in the church’s operation like mine, including the pastor’s kids. What were they going to do? We were untouchable.
It was me, by the way. I did it. It was almost 30 years ago. Whatever…
Other supposed scandals were exacerbated by the old church ladies, whispering poison into each other’s ears. Be it the pastor’s divorce, or this church goer’s “strange” son, or which youth was experimenting with drugs2, or which youth were experimenting with each other3, the gossipers were the worst of the lot. I remember their whispers and the wells they filled with their bile, so bad that pastors as well as members of the church were forced to leave due to how uncomfortable they were being made to feel. Real christian of them, right? Much of my contempt for organized religion stemmed from seeing christians taint the teachings of the bible because it was more fun to hate than help. And worse yet, many of the stories they created were filled with obvious inaccuracies that they were perfectly content with.
This isn’t to say that the church doesn’t have the power to do many great things. Of course, it does. This is just the dark side of community. It’s the small-town, everybody-up-in-each-other’s cheese-wiz, vibe that’s created when there are too few people with too much time on their hands and even more to say.
I was born and raised in North Miami, so the church was the closest reflection of a small town that I had before I moved to Redland back in 2018. For those who don’t know, Redland is the historic agricultural district of Miami-Dade, just outside of Homestead. It still has the feel of a small town, which means it takes forever just to drive to a nice restaurant. I’ve since moved back up to Hollywood, a city I greatly prefer, but have the pleasure of driving down to Redland nearly everyday for work at my beautiful park, Castellow Hammock. While Castellow is technically in Redland, historically the area was known as the Town of Silver Palm. Obsessive research is a welcomed perk of my job, so I’ve done my due diligence in learning as much as I can about the area. Today, Silver Palm is only represented by two buildings: The Silver Palm Schoolhouse built in 1904 and still occupied, and Anderson’s Corner built in 1912, essentially abandoned4 and falling to pieces.
The General Store on the Corner
Hazily illuminated by a single street light, and pressed so close to the corner it might as well be in the street, is the dilapidated structure lovingly known as Anderson’s Corner by locals and Google Maps. The building itself rests uncomfortably at the intersection of Silver Palm and Newton - SW 232nd Street and 157th Avenue, respectively - just two or so blocks from where Jimmy Ryce5 was abducted. Anderson himself is long deceased, and his descendants are scattered through-out the United States. Though it technically was the Anderson family’s home, it served the distinct purpose of also being one of only a handful of general stores in the Redland area when development and farming began there at the turn of the 20th century.
William Anderson of Indiana moved to Florida in 1897, and sought work like so many others with the Florida East Coast Railway. By this time, the rail line had reached downtown Miami and was continuing its way south through Homestead before embarking on the Florida Keys. In addition to his work with the FEC, Anderson drove a commissary cart along the dirt roads of Redland selling wares to newly built hotels that were being used to house rowdy railway workers. At one of his stops near Princeton, he met Atka Harper, who was newly-windowed and left with three children. The two were quickly taken with each other, much to the dismay of Atka’s children, who found pleasure in doing whatever they could to scare the horse pulling Anderson’s cart whenever he approached. So, the story goes…
Despite the small annoyance of Atka’s children, they married, purchased five acres of land, and had the store built by 1912. The family resided on the second floor, while the store bustled below on the first. This was a welcome addition to the blossoming Silver Palm, which now had all the amenities it required to truly call itself a town. And in that town, William Anderson became a staple with names such as Uncle Will and Popp Anderson being bestowed upon him. Customers were plenty and they were often welcomed by a smiling and waving Anderson from the second story balcony of the white, shiplap-constructed building. Above him, painted in white letters with a green background, the words “W. M. Anderson General Merchandise.”
Over the next several years, Atka and William had five more children, eight in total, but it wasn’t long before cracks seemed to form in the facade of the happy family on the corner. In 1936, Atka filed for divorce and moved out of the home taking most of the children with her. Oddly, her oldest daughter, Annie, who had recently returned from college in Gainesville6, moved in with Anderson. Rumors began to circulate through-out the small town that a relationship beyond that of a father and stepdaughter had formed between Anderson and Annie. Neighbors also whispered how withdrawn and somber Annie always seemed in the rare occurrences that they would see her. In 1940, four years after William and Atka’s divorce, Annie ended her own life, apparently overdosing on pills. Anderson allegedly found her body on the back porch after she’d fallen from the second story. Despite this, he continued to live in the building until his own death.
Things weren’t going well for the rest of Anderson and Atka’s children either. The rumor mill labeled it “Anderson’s Curse” and, while details are grisly and at times questionable, it did not seem that any them would escape some sort of tragedy through-out their lives. There are stories of gang violence and gang rape, abuse, prostitution, mysterious deaths, orphans, and more. That said, they are mostly anecdotal, and there isn’t a whole lot documentation to suggest that they are completely accurate.7
Following Anderson’s death in 1961, the general store would go through a series of transformations. By the 1970s, the first floor of the building had been converted into two apartments. Beulah Glenn8, who lived in the one with her family, was the first person to make claims that the building was haunted. Besides lights seemingly turning on and off by themselves, her family often heard noises on the upper floor, which was padlocked and restricted. They would attribute this to pranks from the neighborhood kids, but would never find the culprits whenever they’d investigate. The strange occurrences continued culminating to a night when Beulah claimed the family heard a young women upstairs screaming “Help! Help!” They moved out of the apartment shortly thereafter.
Stories of hauntings did not emerge again until after Anderson’s Corner, and Redland alike, was devastated by Hurricane Andrew in 1992. By this time, the building had been condemned, restored, deemed a historic structure, reopened as an inn and a restaurant, and then condemned again. The new owner, intent on repairing the building and reopening her restaurant, The Harvest House, hired several workers in 1993 to restore it. Among them were two brothers, Hawk and David Hawkins, who were said to be of Iroquois ancestry. While the true reasoning for the brother’s hiring is unknown, it was rumored that it was because of their perceived connection to the spiritual world. During this time, Hawk would keep a journal logging his daily observations. This included some that were paranormal in nature.
The first happened in January of 1994. While working to stabilize the building, Hawk wrote that he had a vision of a girl in her mid-twenties, five feet tall with long, light hair. Despite what he claims to have seen, Hawk and his brother continued their work but gradually found themselves becoming more unsettled when inside the building. The negativity within David became so intense that he began to feel the compulsion to hurt his brother. In Hawk’s journal, he describes suspicion that David wanted to bash his head in with a hydraulic jack, while David at one point, ran from the house claiming to have been chased by evil spirits. According to their story, work was halted for some time, though it’s not specified why. When they returned and began working again, so did the hauntings. In one entry, Hawk describes a persistent tapping sound coming from behind a mirror. The noise became so irritating that they removed the mirror only to find empty space behind it. Shortly after, the wildest claim was made in the journal. In it, Hawk describes witnessing a vision of an older man sexually abusing a young woman while she was taking a bath.
The owner of Anderson’s Corner arrived one afternoon to check on progress and discovered the building filled with smoke. Her initial shock was only worsened as she entered and found a noose hanging from the second floor. She demanded an explanation from Hawk, who was the only one there at the time. He began to tell her what had been happening to him and his brother. The smoke and noose were part of a ritual he was performing to cleanse the house of evil spirits. Upon learning about the vision of the older man and young woman, the owner presented the brothers with a photo of the Anderson family. They picked out William and Annie as the people they had seen.9
Unfortunately, the Harvest House never reopened. Only rumors persist as to the fate of the other characters involved in this story. David Hawkins, for instance, seemed to have predicted his own death - getting hit by a truck while on his motorcycle. Supposedly, it actually happened and he recovered, only to get hit again. I’ve heard the former owner of Anderson’s Corner is still around, which is why I’ve neglected to print her name. I would LOVE to talk with her, though! Anderson’s Corner itself, struggles to stand. The roof of its kitchen is caved in, and the second story balcony where William once stood waving at customers leans as it weighs heavy on what little support there is left. Wedged in the sliver of grass between its front porch and SW 232nd Street, is a for sale sign10 that has been tagged with graffiti. Its windows are boarded with plywood, painted white like the shiplap panels that slowly rot away on its facade. Inside, it is empty, a shell of its former self.
Internet searches of Anderson’s Corner list several YouTube videos featuring thrill-seekers, would-be paranormal investigators, and lovers of abandoned places, who break into its husk and explore its skeletal remains. Some call out to Annie and ask if she can hear them, begging for a sign. Others tell the story of the Anderson family with such assurance you’d think they were there in the 1930s. I admit, I have also been inside the structure and can attest to the creepy feeling one gets standing amongst its innards. I think that it has more to do with mold and past shoddy electrical work, personally11. Being a lover of South Florida history as well as myth and lore, I can’t help but be bothered by some of these folks. It’s like a terrible game of telephone, with the story becoming more and more inflated and inaccurate as folks add their own twists and turns. It’s that fish that gets bigger and bigger each time you tell the story of its capture. But such is the nature of rumor.
Inaccuracy = Interesting?
Some consider the study of history to be a bit tedious because if you want to be completely accurate, you can’t fill the gaps in a story with rumor, gossip, and hearsay. Were William, Atka, and their eight children real people? Yes, but were William and Annie in a romantic relationship? Enter the word “allegedly.” Was Anderson’s Corner built between 1911 and 1912 to serve the people of Silver Palm? You bet. Did Annie kill herself? Yes, but was it because of abuse she was receiving from William? So, they say. Remove every allegedly, supposedly, apparently, they claimed, and so on, and you’re left with a pretty mild story, if any story at all.
I’ll leave with a few questions: Is it possible that Annie was so sullen whenever seen by the townsfolk because she was well-aware of the rumors about her and her stepfather? Think about what that would do to someone if untrue. Could they have driven Annie to kill herself? I’m reminded again of the former pastors and church members that were driven out because of similarly hurtful rumors. One person’s pleasure is another’s pain. Could it just have been a coincidence that the Hawkin brothers picked out Anderson and Annie from the photo? They were quoted as saying the man was much older than the one pictured, and Annie easily fits the description of “young girl with blonde hair.” They never outright said they saw apparitions and were careful to describe them as visions. I’m not discounting their experiences, I’m just curious if the rumors of the past lent to their claims. Now, because of those claims, a whole new generation of people are sharing a story that could very well be complete BS, or at least partially so. All that said, if it did turn out to be a bogus story, would we stop telling it? Or is life just that much more interesting with a little bit of scandal in it?
/CLS
Oh, DOS, how I love you. For all my readers who grew up in the 90s and experienced computing before Windows, I’m sure you knew a little bit of MS-DOS. The batch file I created featured the /CLS or clear screen command, followed by the command, cls.bat. Since the batch file was named cls.bat, when it would run, the computer would clear the screen and run the batch file again, infinitely. If you installed the code within the computer’s start-up file, the computer screen would just go blank, leaving it incapacitated. Innocent enough, and easily fixed, but a big headache. I’m such a rebel.
Me.
Also me.
Over the years, many people have taken a great interest in the preservation of Anderson’s Corner. The former owner of the Harvest House was unable to meet the demands of county building code post-Andrew, and eventually sold it. Before she did, however, she put a thorn in the side of many developers wishing the building would just collapse. If it did, it would potentially lose the historic designation it received in 1981, leaving it open to development. Part of what the Hawkin brothers were doing in 1993-1994 was installing massive steel girders within the structure of the building. This means it’s nearly impossible for Anderson’s to come tumbling down.
There’s a memorial for Jimmy on the corner that is still maintained to this day, nearly 30 years after he was abducted and murdered.
Annie was in Gainesville studying to become a teacher. Apparently, she was married as well. It is unknown to me what happened to her husband. Hmmm…
Most of these stories are cataloged in a poorly-written book called A Home in Homestead. While I do believe the book has value in terms of filling in some historical gaps, it loses a lot credibility to shock value and unnecessarily vivid descriptions of heinous acts.
Beulah apparently also worked at the Harvest House at some point. She died in 2020 at the age of 86.
Most, if not all, of the stories of Anderson’s hauntings are described in a South Florida History Magazine essay entitled, Who’s Haunting Anderson’s Corner?. The magazine is no longer being published, but archives of it can be found on History Miami’s website. I highly doubt most of the would-be ghost hunters who trespass at Anderson’s have read it. Nonetheless, it’s an incredibly fascinating and well-written essay with lots of great photos.
When I initially started writing this essay, Anderson’s was still for sale. It has now been purchased again with the intention of being turned into a general store and restaurant once more. The new owner has experience with historic buildings, so interested parties are watching closely.
I’m kidding. Half kidding. There is truth that strong electromagnetic fields can cause feelings of pressure and uneasiness. These are symptoms that are often described by people when they enter haunted buildings. I would surmise that no electricity was running to the building when I was inside. The mold, however… well, don’t get me started on mold.