This is the story, as was told to me around at Camp Beisler, while on an over night camp-out in the woods. We had set up our tents, eaten a dinner of grilled corn on the cob and a stew called “Ghetto Goulash” and had gathered around the fire as it was getting dark and the insects began to make their noise:
The Purple Bishop was actually a Parish Priest who served a congregation near Califon, New Jersey. Don’t ask me what his real name was or when he lived, that was not part of the story. However, he did love the color purple and often dressed in a purple cassock as he performed his Priestly duties. From what I was told, it was a hard time for the local farmers and merchants, there was illness, failed crops and poverty.
Seeing all the trouble, the Priest went to work to help the people of his community, bringing them medicine, helping them get food, and giving them the hope and faith to keep going. He worked hard day and night to serve the community to the point of exhaustion. Then one night, while he was out visiting a sick member of his congregation, he got caught in a storm and soon came down with pneumonia. They took him to his room in the basement of the church, where he was put to bed and the doctor was called.
Sadly, the doctor did not come until the next day, and by then there was nothing anyone could do to help the Priest, he was dying. Members of his church and the community gathered by his bedside and thanked him for all he did for them and their families. Then someone asked if there was anything that they could do for him. The Priest looked up wearily from his bed, and told them that he wanted them to build a large Church for the community and have it all painted in purple, and to ensure that the church would always be a place where all those in need could get help: food, shelter and hope.
The people gathered around the Priest promised that they would carry out his wishes. Shortly afterwards, the Priest breathed his last.
Sadly, after the Priest died, some of the wealthier townspeople balked at the idea of spending the money to build the church, and of helping the poor. Instead, they actually closed down the small church that the Priest had served and placed his coffin in a simple vault built in what had been his basement room.
The church was then sealed and basically forgotten…until people began to report sightings of the Purple Bishop in the area, and he was angry!
Supposedly, he was seen surrounded by a purple glow, wandering around the abandoned church, and walking along the dark country roads. Horses were scared and cars went off the road when their drivers saw the Bishop materialize in front of them.
Then Dogs, cats, and some farm animals began to disappear, then some people also went missing. The community was scared, and began to say it was the ghost of the Purple Bishop, who was seeking revenge for being disrespected and having his promise broken.
Over the years, he was seen all around the area, including Camp Beisler, where stories of the Purple Bishop went all the way back to the days when it was a Socialist Workers camp. Counselors and campers alike claimed to have seen the Purple Bishop in the woods, and even in some of the cabins and camp buildings!
One story from the ’70s was that two counselors were on a hike and got lost in a storm. They took shelter in an old barn, where they sat in the hay, listened to it rain and told stories about the Purple Bishop. One of the guys was making fun of the story, when suddenly, the inside of the barn turned into a beautiful Purple Church, and the two counselors were stunned into silence. Then the one who was making fun of the Bishop was picked up by an unseen force and thrown across the barn where he slammed into the wall. The other counselor ran for the door and once outside kept running until he was well down the road. It was then that he realized that his friend was not with him. Although he was scared, he went back to find the barn, but as it was night, and raining, he did not find it, and eventually turned and went back to the camp.
The Police were called, a search was conducted, but the missing counselor was never found, and neither was the barn!
The day after hearing this story, while hiking back to the camp we stopped by the Purple Bishop’s church (pictured). Outside there were signs that said “No Trespassing” and notices from the Police to stay away from the building, and to report anything strange in the area. Of course, we went right up to the building, and one of the sheets of plywood that covered the basement windows was half off, and we were able to look inside, and sure enough, there was what looked like a crypt! We were told that if you tossed a rock onto the crypt you might wake up the Purple Bishop and find him standing over your bunk that night!
Of course, we all had to try it…fortunately (?) I never got a visit from the Purple Bishop.
The stories continued to be told for many years after I went to camp there, even as an adult when I went back with the youth group from my church, I heard the stories. Now though, the camp has changed hands, and the stories are no longer told, but that does not mean that they have gone away…
Or that the Bishop has either. I like to think that he is still wandering around the area, seeking those who betrayed him.
Ordinary Adventures 