When I was in middle school, my mom and stepfather moved us into a house that rested on land that had once been part of a large farmstead in Augusta County. Sometime in the past, the land had been slowly sectioned off — one farm became two, and then an owner of one of those farms split off land that was eventually itself split into three plots.

It turns out that before the land had been neatly carved up, the farm had been in the hands of one family since at least the 1800s, as evidenced by a small family cemetery on a hill behind my house.

When we first moved in, we knew nothing about the history hidden by a grove of trees less than a quarter-mile from our house. My sister and I were preparing ourselves to live in a place so far removed from civilization, in our eyes, that it might has well have been on a remote island. In short, we were concerned only about the boredom this new house would bring to our city-raised sensibilities.

But then our dog led us on a wild goose chase through the neighbor’s field, past cows and cow-pies, until we reached the top of the hill. There among the stand of trees, we discovered several headstones, some legible and some not.

From young men who never came back from the Civil War to babies who had died before their time to one stone that, judging by it’s monolithic size, marked the resting place of the clan’s patriarch, the cemetery represented a turning point in our opinion of the house.

Suddenly our land held a spooky allure. Sleepovers at our house always included trips to the cemetery and Halloween was marked with newer and scarier stories that we shared with our neighbors and friends.

On one particularly entertaining night, we had our friends — and ourselves — so spooked that I still to this day swear that we actually saw the ghost we made up. I still think about the misty apparition we imagined wandering in our neighbors’ backyard with a mix of nostalgia and amusement.

News that Suffolk has its own share of ghosts brings back fond memories of childhood wonder.

Tonight marks the first of this year’s “Legends of Main Street: A Suffolk Ghost Walk” events. From the Suffolk Visitor Center down Main Street, a knowledgeable sage will share the legends of downtown with a rapt audience.

And this can only mean good things for downtown, which has walked a fine line between developed and abandoned. Since I’ve been here, it seems that every new storefront that has opened has been mirrored by one that has closed. And unlike many thriving downtowns in other localities in Virginia, Main Street remains largely empty of the foot traffic that can bring money to the businesses that have survived.

As more people take to Main Street for the Suffolk Ghost Walk, it follows that they may encounter more than ghosts.

Maybe participants will end their evening at Rosa’s Cantina to discuss a particularly spooky apparition over coffee, or maybe they’ll grab a late pizza at Amici’s or drink at the Plaid Turnip.

Whatever you think of ghosts, it’s not hard to believe that all downtown Suffolk needs is a good ghost story to get an injection of life.