For nearly 150 years, people have been disappearing without explanation from a hauntingly beautiful corner of rural Vermont — and nobody has ever been able to explain why.

Some suspect a serial killer. Others blame the paranormal. But no one has fully unraveled the eerie web that stretches over the Bennington Triangle and Glastenbury Mountain.

Followers of folklore are usually familiar with places like the Bermuda Triangle or Massachusetts’ Bridgewater Triangle. But tucked away in southwestern Vermont is a lesser-known, equally unsettling cousin: the Bennington Triangle.

Dubbed by author Joseph A. Citro, the Bennington Triangle refers to the remote wilderness around Glastenbury Mountain and the nearby ghost towns like Glastenbury itself — once a logging boomtown, now little more than untouched forest. Even by Vermont standards, this area feels isolated, wild, and uneasy.

The stories start in the mid-20th century, but the unsettling energy goes back far longer.

The Disappearances That Shaped the Legend

In 1945, a string of vanishings began with Middie Rivers, a 74-year-old hunting guide who led a group through Hell Hollow in Glastenbury’s woods. He fell behind — and was never seen again. Despite a massive search effort involving locals and Army soldiers from Fort Devens, no trace of him was found aside from a discarded handkerchief on a trail.

A year later, in December 1946, 18-year-old Paula Jean Welden, a college student from Bennington College, went hiking alone on the Long Trail. She was last seen entering the woods near Glastenbury Mountain, wearing an easy-to-spot red jacket and sneakers — wildly underdressed for a winter trek. Her disappearance triggered an enormous search, one of the biggest in Vermont history, and even led to the founding of the Vermont State Police. No trace of her was ever found.

Exactly three years after Paula disappeared, the mystery deepened. James E. Tedford, a 68-year-old veteran, boarded a bus to Bennington after visiting relatives. Witnesses swore he was still in his seat at the last stop before town — but when the bus arrived, Tedford was gone, his luggage untouched, an open bus timetable still resting on his seat. He had vanished while the bus was moving through the Bennington Triangle.

Then, in October 1950, eight-year-old Paul Jepson vanished. His mother had left him playing in the family truck while she fed pigs at a local dump. When she returned, he was gone. Bloodhounds traced his scent to a crossroads — and then it vanished, cold.

Finally, just two weeks later, 53-year-old Frieda Langer disappeared while hiking with her cousin. After slipping into a stream, she returned alone to their campsite — but never made it. Her remains were found six months later in an area that had already been thoroughly searched. The cause of death could never be determined.

These five cases — collectively known as the “Bennington Five” — are the heart of the Triangle’s reputation for unexplained disappearances.

Theories Behind the Vanishings

Speculation around the Bennington Triangle runs wild.

Some believe a serial killer was responsible, but the victims’ wide range of ages, genders, and circumstances challenges that idea. Others point to dangerous terrain, suggesting the rugged, rocky forest simply swallowed them up — though it’s strange that search teams found almost no evidence.

Then there’s the weirder side.

The area has long been considered cursed. Native American folklore warned of “man-eating rocks” in the region — strange stones that could supposedly devour people whole. Sightings of mysterious lights, UFOs, and even Bigfoot-like creatures, often called the “Glastenbury Monster,” have been reported for centuries. One 1879 account even described a creature covered in “bright red hair” roaming the woods.

In 1943, years before the cluster of vanishings, a hunter named Carol Herrick was found dead near Glastenbury after going missing — his body surrounded by massive, unidentified animal tracks. Some say he was squeezed to death by something that wasn’t human.

Other tales hint at cursed colors: both Paula Jean Welden and Paul Jepson were wearing red when they disappeared — and many locals now see the color as bad luck.

More recent stories tell of strange voices heard over dead-air radio channels, ghostly figures glimpsed in the woods, sudden, unexplained disorientation while hiking, and even plane crashes linked to navigation mishaps in the area.

In other words: if the wilderness itself doesn’t get you, the Triangle’s legends might.

Separating Fact from Folklore

Even Joseph Citro, who coined the “Bennington Triangle” name and has written extensively about it, admits that the disappearances leave him baffled.

“If you ignore the monster stories, the ghost stories, the curse stories, and the UFO stories — you’re still left with the vanishings,” he says. “Those are real. Those are history. And there are some monumentally weird elements connected with some of them.”

Historical researcher Michael Dooling, author of Clueless in New England, tried to sift fact from legend by combing through police reports, newspaper archives, and morgue files. He found no strong connections between the five cases beyond proximity, time of day (most vanished between 3 and 4 p.m.), and season (fall and early winter).

In fact, Dooling argues that Paula Welden’s disappearance has more in common with other young women who vanished around the same era, like Connie Smith in Connecticut and Katherine Hull in New York — suggesting a broader pattern along old travel routes rather than something unique to Glastenbury.

Still, the Bennington Triangle continues to draw attention from those with a taste for mystery. Whether you believe the land itself is cursed, or simply that the wilderness has a way of swallowing up the unlucky, the facts are unsettling enough on their own.

No bodies (except Frieda’s). No answers. Just questions that still linger in the cold Vermont woods.