EDITOR’S NOTE: Strangeville explores the legends, folklore, and unexplained history of Western North Carolina. From Cherokee mythology and Appalachian ghost stories to Bigfoot sightings and UFO encounters, the Blue Ridge Mountains have long been a hotspot for the strange and mysterious. Join us as we dig into the past and uncover the truth behind the region’s most curious tales.
ASHEVILLE, N.C. — On a warm June morning in 1926, people gathered along Asheville’s streets, drawn by something uncanny. Heads turned, necks craned, and then it appeared.
A Ford coupe glided into view, polished and shining in the summer sun. Its wheels turned smoothly. It shifted lanes. It slowed at intersections. There was no one behind the wheel.
The Asheville Times called The Royal Pines Mystery Car “the latest mechanical wonder.” Inside sat Miss Mary Farrell, billed as “Asheville’s Sweetheart,” her hands resting calmly in her lap. She smiled, but made no move to touch the controls.
The buzz began the day before, when local newspapers promised a sight unlike anything the city had seen. The coupe would broadcast radio programs from inside and even refuel “without the aid of an operator.” A second car, a Hudson Brougham, would trail behind. Most assumed it was simply there for safety. Few suspected it might hold the real secret.
When the coupe rolled through downtown on June 14, people spilled off sidewalks to get a closer look. It pulled up to a filling station, took on gasoline, and pulled away again. Still, no one could see how it was being driven.
The next day headlines declared the mystery remained unsolved. Royal Pines Casino, sponsor of the event, upped the stakes: $25 to anyone who could figure it out. The offer lit up the city. Speculation swirled in barbershops, over lunch counters, and in living rooms.
Was there a hidden driver crouched inside? Clever mechanics disguised as a backseat cushion? A system of pulleys and gears? The car returned each day that week, moving with eerie precision through dealerships, tire shops, and gas stations. No one had an answer.
Behind the spectacle was a concept just a year old. Francis P. Houdina, a former U.S. Army electrical engineer, had outfitted a Chandler sedan in 1925 with electric motors that responded to radio signals from another car. His “American Wonder” navigated Broadway and Fifth Avenue in New York City without a driver in sight.
The Royal Pines Mystery Car worked the same way. The trailing car was no escort. It was the real driver’s seat, its operator sending wireless commands that made the coupe respond as if guided by invisible hands.
The choice of sponsor was no accident. Royal Pines Casino was the centerpiece of a new planned community built around the historic Blake House, an 1850 Gothic Revival and Greek Revival structure. Developer William I. Phillips had grand plans for Royal Pines: paved roads, electric lights, parks, tennis courts, a swimming pool, and a casino and dance hall inside the old house.
The Mystery Car added something more. A sense of wonder and a touch of the impossible.
On Friday, June 17, the car made its final run. Crowds gathered, hoping for one last clue. The coupe turned a corner, slowed to a stop, and then was gone. The $25 prize went unclaimed.
The truth eventually became common knowledge. The car was not self-driving in the modern sense, but an early example of radio control. The real “driver” sat in the trailing car, sending commands through a transmitter to electric motors inside the coupe. In its time, it was cutting-edge technology.
Royal Pines changed quickly in the years after its debut and the sensational mystery car spectacle of 1926. The Great Depression left many lots abandoned, and by 1940 the William Phillips Company had defaulted on its loan. Parkway Properties took over the remaining land.
The casino and pool closed during World War II and sat vacant until 1947, when Jake Rusher purchased the property. By 1961, the casino became The Pines, while the pool kept the Royal Pines name and grew into a popular summer gathering spot for south Asheville.
In 1997, Rusher began working with the City of Asheville to turn the property into a public park. Today, it is Jake Rusher Park, a lasting gift to the community.
Nearly a century after the Royal Pines Mystery Car rolled through Asheville, the neighborhood looks very different, yet that week remains a distinct chapter in the city’s history. Today, autonomous vehicles are a reality. In the summer of 1926, Asheville caught a glimpse of that future — and for one remarkable week, believed it had arrived.
-
Strangeville: Ghost stories and unearthed history at Erwin High School
Clyde A. Erwin High School in Asheville is more than a campus. Built over a potter’s field, the school’s haunted reputation blends verifiable history with enduring folklore.
-
Strangeville: The day Babe Ruth was rumored to have died in Asheville
In April 1925, Asheville briefly became the center of a baseball mystery. Babe Ruth collapsed at the train station and rumors spread worldwide that he had died here. Newspapers even printed his obituary before the truth emerged. Discover how the “death” of the Babe in Asheville became a strange piece of local folklore.
-
Strangeville: Haunted History of Calvary Episcopal Churchyard in Fletcher, NC
Local legends at Calvary Episcopal Church in Fletcher, N.C., tell of a headless horseman, a gentle woman in white and a phantom rider whose stories have been passed down for generations.
-
Strangeville: The Royal Pines Mystery Car: Asheville’s 1926 driverless sensation
In the summer of 1926, Asheville was captivated by the Royal Pines Mystery Car, a driverless coupe that stunned crowds and left them guessing how it worked.
-
Strangeville: The eerie legend of Hendersonville’s Sunshine Grave
Yesterday’s Tombstone Tales uncovered the unusual grave of Hendersonville’s “Sunshine Lady”. Today’s Strangeville follows the eerie legends that grew around it, from ghostly sightings to whispers of a lingering presence.
