Abram Simons
 
 
About the turn of the 19th century, settlers of Washington Ga., had begun hiring wagoners
to make the week long run to Augusta for goods and supplies. A man named Abram Simons,
lived on a hill located just outside of town on the old Washington/ Augusta Road, which is now called
South Smyrna Church Road. Although much of the tale surrounding Mr. Simons has been passed down
as local folklore, much of the story has been proven through court records, as some of Mr. Simons
victims apparently reported him to the authorities.
 
A Revolutionary War veteran,  Capt. Abraham Simons had a legitimate business as a cotton farmer.
 He lived in a two-story house about 150 feet off the Augusta Road. When Mr. Simons told people
 that he was going to open an Inn, few believed that it would be successful.
It wasn’t long, before they were proven wrong.
 
Rumor had it, Mr. Simons ordered his slaves, after dark, to douse the dirt road with buckets of water from Upton Creek. Wagons would get stuck in the mud, and the drivers would be forced to seek shelter at the Simons “ Inn.”  He would charge them for spending the night in one of the rooms. Over the years,  as another way to separate customers from their money, other rooms in the house were made into a tavern
and a gambling den. Simons took great pride in raising and racing his own horses, his favorite being a
black horse called Babylon, which lead to him building a race track and stables nearby,
to pry even more money from his guests.
 
Simons’ wife was a deeply religious woman and regularly attended mass at nearby Smyrna Church. Simons never chose to attend, instead choosing to drop her off at the door and then picking her up afterwards.
One morning, as Simons prepared to pick his wife up in front of the church, he was stopped by the pastor      (some versions of the story say it was a traveling preacher). Regardless of who it was, their message was clear: change your ways, Abram Simons, or the devil may take you.
Simons was incredibly shaken at the foreboding warning he had been given. By all accounts, he started cleaning up his act. The slaves stopped watering down the road, the gambling at the inn became less and less frequent,  and even the horse racing stopped... almost.
Locals say that it became a common sight to see Abram Simons riding atop Babylon and racing down the dirt road in front of the church at the speed of light. Simons would also race Babylon faster and faster around the old racetrack behind the inn. When asked why he was pushing his horse so hard, Simons would reply to the effect that "if the devil comes for me, I want a chance to outrun him."
Simons also put specific instructions in his will. They specified that Simons wished to be buried on top of the hill overlooking his inn. He also wanted the grave site enclosed by a large stone wall with a gate in front,              some say so that he could look out over his land.
Mr. Simons died in 1825. In his will he left $5,000 to each of his stepchildren,                                             signifying great wealth for that era.
The house has since been taken down, but Mr. Simons' grave remains, surrounded by a moss-covered stone wall with an iron gate. It is on a dirt road at State Routes 12 & 47, near Smyrna Church, and would be difficult to find without a guide.
Legend says the wall was put up to keep the devil away, and that Mr. Simons was buried standing up,          with a musket in one hand and a whiskey bottle in the other. He wanted to be ready if the devil came,            and if he couldn't bribe him with a drink, he'd shoot him.
There is no way of telling whether or not the devil ever chose to come calling on Abram Simons.                Locals, however, say that Simons has not stopped preparing for that day. For on certain nights,                             it is said that you can hear the sounds of a horse racing down the old dirt road, spurred on by an invisible rider. The same sounds are heard in the woods where the inn once stood. And within those same woods,                 sitting atop a small hill, is a stone enclosure that houses a single, solitary grave.                                                 And inside that grave stands the body of a man still watching and waiting for his meeting with the devil.