People of the Beaver park district claim that J.H McClure came to live in the city to build a house in the early 1860's. The purpose of building this house was to accommodate the travelers who passed by the small little town. Along side the main road, there was a small road that turned off to get to this house. It was called Glendale Station.
After gold was found in this town, a rush of people came to live in the area. It was those romantic days that preceded the coming of the railroad that Glendale reached its crown of glory. The Glendale station was very well made, with strong sturdy stone walls, attractive winding staircases, two large parlors with well built fireplaces, and flower lined walks. The place was so beautiful some people arranged weddings, parties, dances and social events there.
The station was humming with life during both night and day. Travelers stopped in and out, ladies wearing silks and shawls walked along the shiny hardwood floors, gamblers seeking new riches, the place smelt of ceder logs and pine. Smells of freshly baked bread and nice smelling perfumes flooded the rooms.
One figure stood out of the crowd the most. He wore shiny leather gloves, the best of clothing, and tall black boots. He told stories around the fires, capturing the audience's full attention. But there was a romantic sadness in his voice when he spoke about the new railroads that were going up, afraid that they might effect his job, for he was a stage coach.
June 3, 1921, there was a huge flood in the town which took many lives and destroyed many homes including the richness and beauty of Glendale Station. The only thing left was the house standing alone in the middle of nowhere in a wreck.
People say that when horseback riders pass this abandoned house, they see a ghostly bride standing on the front porch. She looks to be of a very pretty woman, very frail with her long white wedding dress flapping in the wind. Her veil is draped over her eyes, fluttering around her shoulders and she stands there in the moonlight watching them ride by.
It was at one of the parties that the daughter a Glendale landlord met and fell in love with a young man from the south who came by looking for gold. The man also loved her and when he went away looking for gold, and she promised to wait for him to return. He arrived a few months later and plans were set for a wedding between the two. He came back from the mines to wed the lovely lady that evening. Many people were present at Glendale, the house was in it's usual manner and full of life. The groom was to come with his two companions.
The hours came and went. Still the groom had not shown up. The bride stood out on the porch and watched for her lover to appear from the road. For a very long time she stood there in her beautiful white wedding gown. It was midnight and she could still see down the road for some distance in the moonlight. The girl knew that he would arrive horseback and she patiently waited for the sound of the hoofs to come upon the road, but the sound never came. At last she gave up and went inside with the help of her friends.
The night dragged on, men volunteered to get on their horses to search for the groom. They had found that the groom had been robbed of his gold and then murdered, possibly by his companions. A short time later the heartbroken young lady became very ill and died.
The story goes that travelers who go along the rode by horseback on moonlit nights swear that they can see her waiting figure still up on the porch, her white gown flapping in the wind. Some riders claim to hear her sweet voice calling out, and then a heartbreaking sob just before the figure would suddenly disappear.
