Beneath the hum of traffic and the glow of a Pennsylvania casino lies a mystery that predates it by more than a century and a half. Three Confederate soldiers rest in quiet obscurity on the outskirts of Grantville—buried in Northern soil, hundreds of miles from home, their story unmarked and nearly forgotten.

In this premiere episode of Mysteries Along the Manada, host Jaratt Dill peels back the layers of local legend and historical record to uncover how these men—once enemies of the Union—found their final resting place in the shadow of Manada Creek. What begins as a roadside curiosity quickly turns into a haunting pursuit of truth, blending Civil War history with the strange echoes that still drift through small-town cemeteries.

From the roar of the old iron furnaces that once fueled Pennsylvania’s wartime industry, to the whispers of Confederate prisoners who labored and died far from home, this story traces how the past embeds itself in the landscape—and how the dead sometimes refuse to stay silent.

Armed with his curiosity, research, and a spirit box that blurs the line between static and the supernatural, Dill retraces the long, winding path from Antietam to Grantville. Along the way, he confronts the eerie intersection of fact and folklore: a deal struck between iron magnates and state officials, rumors of Confederate labor in Union territory, and the unnerving possibility that something beneath those stones still remembers.

Part history, part investigation, and part séance, Confederates by the Casino captures the uneasy beauty of Pennsylvania’s hidden past. It’s a story about what lingers when history is half-buried—about memory, guilt, and the strange persistence of place.

Join Jaratt as he steps into a forgotten graveyard armed with a spirit box and a skeptic friend, testing whether the voices of war ever truly fade. Through his investigations—both historical and paranormal—he discovers that the story of these three soldiers isn’t just about how they died, but about how easily we forget what’s buried in our own backyards.

As the signal fades and the static deepens, one thing becomes clear: some ghosts don’t haunt—they endure.