The Haunted History of Bingham’s Light

A Southern Ghost Story Rooted in Fog, Folklore, and Forgotten Tracks

In the quiet outskirts of Latta, South Carolina — where pine forests hem the roads and the night sky still gets truly dark — there sits a stretch of old earth that once held the steel rails of a railroad line long since dismantled. The rails are gone, the trains silent, but according to decades of local stories, something else still walks the path: a wandering, ghostly light that locals call Bingham’s Light.

It is one of the Pee Dee region’s most enduring hauntings, a tale passed down through generations, whispered during sleepovers, repeated on late-night drives, and tested by countless groups of teenagers armed with nothing but flashlights and courage.

People say that if you stand on the old track bed at night and wait — long enough, and still enough — a pale lantern-like glow will appear, swaying as if carried by invisible hands.

But whose hands? And why?

That is where the legend deepens.

The Legend Behind the Lantern

Version 1: The Tragic Lantern Keeper

The most widely told origin centers on a man — usually said to be named Bingham — who walked the tracks at night carrying a lantern. In one version, he was a railroad worker heading out to inspect a damaged rail. In another, he was simply using the tracks as a shortcut home through the swampy woods.

No matter the reason, his fate was the same:

A train rounded a curve in the darkness, and Bingham didn’t hear it until it was too late.

According to the old story, the lantern was found shattered, but Bingham’s body lay further down the line — headless. And some say that ever since that night, his spirit still walks the abandoned route, searching for his missing head, his lantern glowing in the dark.

Version 2: The Sinister Bingham

Another, darker version paints Bingham not as a victim, but as a villain — a man who wandered the tracks late at night to find secluded spots in the woods. According to this telling, he used those lonely areas to hide his crimes, burying victims in shallow graves along the railroad line.

When he died (some say by violence, others by illness), the land refused to forget. His lantern still appears in the night, swinging slowly back and forth, as if searching for more victims — or perhaps searching for redemption he will never find.

These stories contradict each other, but that contradiction is exactly why the legend is so persistent. No one knows which version came first. No one agrees on the details. And that uncertainty gives the haunting its power.

What People Claim to See

Whether visiting at dusk or just past midnight, those who’ve gone looking for Bingham’s Light describe remarkably similar experiences.

A Floating Lantern That Moves on Its Own

Witnesses say the light appears suddenly in the distance — a white or bluish glow about the size of a lantern flame. It hovers, moves, retreats, and sometimes grows brighter as if approaching. Some people claim the light changes colors, shifting from white to a deep blue or even red.

A few claim it comes close enough that you can make out its bobbing motion, as if someone is walking with it.

Then, just as quickly, it vanishes.

Apparitions in the Fog

Some visitors say that on humid summer nights — when the air clings heavy to your skin — they’ve seen the suggestion of a figure standing in the mist, a dark silhouette behind the lantern’s glow.

Others swear they’ve heard soft footsteps in the brush or the metallic clink of something tapping the old track bed.

When Nature Goes Silent

Perhaps the most chilling reports come from those who say the woods abruptly go quiet right before the light appears. Crickets stop. Frogs hush. Even the wind seems to pause.

It’s as if the forest itself is holding its breath.

Natural Explanations — Or Are They?

Skeptics have offered several theories over the years:

1. Swamp gases rising from the wet soil sometimes emit faint, flickering light.
2. Fireflies, especially rare blue-glowing species, could easily be mistaken for something paranormal.
3. Distant car headlights can bend and shimmer across marshland in odd ways.
4. Atmospheric reflections in heavy humidity can distort small light sources.

These explanations make sense — until you talk to the people who swear they saw something that behaved nothing like any natural phenomenon. Many of them grew up in the area. They know the woods, the swamps, the insects, the fireflies.

And they insist:

Bingham’s Light moves with purpose.

A Local Rite of Passage

For decades, visiting Bingham’s Light has been a tradition among local teenagers. Some went in trucks, some on foot, some dared each other to walk the old path alone. Couples visited on dates to test their bravery. Families sometimes went just to see what the fuss was about.

Not everyone sees the light.

Not every night brings a story.

But enough people have been convinced to keep the legend alive — and that’s how folklore survives.

It’s not just a ghost story.

It’s a shared experience. A memory. A test of nerves.

A Place Where History Blurs into Myth

Even though the railroad tracks are gone, the landscape still holds a certain hush — the kind of stillness that makes your imagination flicker. The pine trees lean close. The grass grows tall where iron rails once lay. And the air smells of damp earth and old stories.

Every ghost tale has a birthplace. Some come from tragedy. Some from fear. Some from imagination.

Bingham’s Light, though —

It lives in the boundary between them all.

Something happened here long ago.

No one agrees on what.

But late at night, when the fog hangs low and the woods grow silent, the old lantern sometimes returns.

And those who see it never forget the way it moved — slowly, steadily — like a man who still has somewhere to go.