Hold My Sweet Tea
Where True Crime collides with chilling ghost stories and Southern folklore. Join us, sip sweet tea, and uncover shocking tales of murder, mystery, and the supernatural, all with a healthy dose of Southern charm and a touch of sass!
Hold My Sweet Tea
Ep. 60-The Witch of Hinds Road: Alabama's Bloodiest Legend
The Witch of Hinds Road haunts a lonely four-mile stretch of gravel cutting through the dense forests near Gadsden, Alabama. As legends go, this one drips with blood and bone—the tale of a woman named Torbit whose pursuit of eternal beauty led her down the darkest path imaginable.
Beautiful beyond measure but desperate to preserve her youth, Torbett allegedly struck a deal with the devil. The price? Human sacrifice. Children would disappear from nearby communities, lured to her isolated shack at the bottom of a holler where unspeakable horrors awaited. She would bathe in their blood to maintain her youthful appearance and decorate her home with their bones, while disposing of their remains in a pond that locals claim ran red for years. Most terrifying of all was her guardian—a massive black hellhound with glowing red eyes and razor-sharp teeth conjured through dark magic to protect her unholy sanctuary.
The townsfolk's vengeance came in 1939 when they stormed her property, finding her rocking on her porch, laughing beside the blood-red pond. As they burned her alive alongside her hellhound, she screamed that she would never leave this place. Perhaps she kept her word. Drivers report seeing a legless woman gliding across the road, cars stall inexplicably, and disembodied voices warn travelers to "go back." Faces—perhaps those of her victims—stare out from the tree line, and paranormal investigators have recorded countless EVPs in the area. The Witch of Hinds Road joins other famous Southern witch tales like Tennessee's Bell Witch and Mississippi's Witch of Yazoo, forming a rich tapestry of folklore that continues to both terrify and fascinate. These stories serve as cautionary tales, preserve local identity, and perhaps reflect historical fears about women who lived independently outside social norms.
Roll up your windows if you're driving through Gadsden at night—unless you're brave enough to stop and ask if you can pet that hellhound. After all, some stories remain just stories until you're the one driving down that haunted gravel road.