The Burnt Man was real. At 5 or 6, I had no reason to doubt the tale and believed in him absolutely. He haunted the woods above Double Bluff, and if I wasn’t careful he’d get me!

It’s a family ghost story, one that was told to my sister and me around driftwood fires on the shores of Useless Bay. That was back when one could do such a thing without ending up in the police blotter.

While the details seemed to change with every telling, the general story line was the same: a man was tragically burned and ran up the bluff, never to be seen again. Seems silly now, but it was downright creepy at the time, especially for young trespassers like my sister and me.

For us, South Whidbey was a summer retreat. For more than 50 years my family owned a tumble-down old beach cabin on Shore Avenue. The place was really nothing more than a fishing shack, a far cry from the multi-million-dollar mansions so common on the street today, but here we made annual retreats from life, visiting grandparents, digging for clams, catching crab, fishing for salmon — all that good Whidbey Island stuff.

And no trip was complete without an ascent up Double Bluff (a feat too dangerous to attempt today) and a trek to Oliver Lake. Making the climb, sneaking onto Henny property and, of course, the prospect of bumping into The Burnt Man; it was all very exciting.

So, with Halloween this week, I set out to find the truth behind this local legend and see if I could dig up a few other hair-raisers as well. And in doing so I learned that the Smith family — my mother’s surname — has a great claim to fame on South Whidbey. Apparently, we are the keepers of the area’s only ghost story. Sounds hard to believe, that we should deserve such a mantle, but it seems to be the case nonetheless.

Hunting for a real gasper for today’s paper, I spoke with the historical society, members of old families and other various founts of knowledge across the South End, all to no avail. A few memories of formerly vacant homes in Langley once used to scare the pants off high school freshman, but no real blood chillers, nothing to keep you up at night.

Surely there are a few out there, and perhaps this will bring them to the surface, but it appears this year belongs to the Smiths and the The Burnt Man.

Happy Halloween.