## I: The Subtle Haunting

In the town steeped in history, adorned with its Spanish fortress and cobblestone streets lies the monolithic sentinel of St. Augustine’s coast—the hauntingly beautiful, yet subtly chilling, St. Augustine Lighthouse. Its towering shell, lit lamely by the sun’s bitter kiss in the day, stands forebodingly, hiding within it a narrative rife with spectral worries and ghostly tales. Not even the beautiful coastal marshes that glisten in the soft light can quite chase away the gloom that clings desperately to the old lighthouse.

The whispers of the past roll in like the ocean waves, brushing against its base, each tide carrying tales of spectral lighthouse keepers who never left their duties—their chains of responsibility wound too tightly even in the afterlife. ‘Tis not only the spectral sentinels, though. Some stories speak of footsteps echoing in long-abandoned rooms, lights flickering erratically despite the absence of electricity, and the chilling, prolonged laughter of children carried in on the salt-laden breeze.

At the heart of this spectral congregation, are the pitiful phantoms of two innocent souls—daughters of Hezekiah H. Pittee, a site superintendent during the lighthouse’s construction—and their tragic, untimely demise. It is tremendously unfortunate that their lives, cut short by an all-consuming accident, now exist forever in the shadow of the great sentinel, forever bound to the place of their last earthly breaths.

## II: The Daughters of the Lighthouse

The story tells of two sweet-tempered little girls, Eliza and Mary, who perished much before their time. Their father, Hezekiah H. Pittee, was a man of construction, his hands hardened from labor, but his heart tender toward his children. Entrusted with the task of constructing a new beacon of safety for St Augustine, he became the lighthouse’s superintendent. This required him to relocate his family onsite, setting into motion the horrifyingly tragic events of the girls’ demises.

While their father worked under the harsh Florida sun, Eliza and Mary played in the surrounding meadows or explored the area around the site. Their laughter often filled the air, adding a lightness to the otherwise serious environment. Even the hardened workers would find themselves smiling at the evidence of the children’s joyous existence.

However, one fateful day, their childish laughter fell silent. The cart they were playing with near their riverside path slipped and fell into the water, pulling the helpless sisters in its cruel embrace. The workers dove in to save them, but the unfathomable depths of the river, teeming with unpredictable undercurrents, held a fatal attraction to the sisters, pulling them in a grotesque water ballet toward their inevitable deaths. Despite the men’s best attempts at rescue, Eliza and Mary did not survive. Their playful laughter transformed into ghostly whispers, haunting the place that saw their last earthly play and conquests.

## III: Unsettling Encounters

As years turned to decades and then centuries since their unfortunate fate, the sisters’ spirits refused to find rest. Visitors and residents of the nearby town of St Augustine speak in hushed tones and fearful whispers of their encounters with the spectral twins. In the dead of night, the giggles of the young girls echo ominously off the towering lighthouse walls, piercing the silence with their intense melancholy.

Kevin and Joan, two out-of-town visitors on a haunted history tour of the lighthouse, recounted their chilling interaction with the doomed sisters. As they climbed the long spiral staircase to the lighthouse’s top, they heard the sounds of children running and playing. Blocking it out as simple imaginations, they continued. Suddenly, the gentle laughter turned into helpless screams echoing from the top of the staircase—a terrifying testament to the past accident.

## IV: The Lighthouse Keepers

The spectral children were not the only residents of the lighthouse, however. Visitors also tell tales of ghostly figures of yesteryears’ lighthouse keepers—spectral sentinels, eternally manning their deserted posts.

Peter, a local historian and lighthouse keeper, has lived in St Augustine for decades and has seen and heard things that would make even the hardiest souls shudder. He describes the haunted lighthouse as a living time machine, echoing with the footsteps of those long deceased. On moonlit nights, he says, faint outlines of men in uniform can be seen walking up and down the winding staircase in a never-ending loop, their heavy boots echoing with a chilling resonance in the empty lighthouse.

## V: The Lingering Legacy

The ghostly phenomenon at the St Augustine Lighthouse has been so persistent that the lighthouse has been scrutinized and studied by professional paranormal investigators. Oscillating between hard believers and skeptical inquirers, people have recorded spectral movement, inexplicably cold patches, and sudden energy spikes.

As the spectral legend continues to grow, the lighthouse at St. Augustine stands—the ethereal hand of history clinging to its walls. The lighthouse showcases a haunting tale where the laughter of children mingles with the silent footsteps of ghost keepers. Today, this chilling monument continues to fascinate and horrify visitors, locals, and paranormal investigators alike. Generations may pass, but the ghostly tales of the lighthouse continue to linger—as long-lasting as the lighthouse itself, casting as big a shadow over the city as its tall, towering structure.