SALEM, Mass. -- Bonnie Johnson is a long way from home, her trip from Columbia, Md., more pilgrimage than vacation.
Johnson shudders when she looks around. The witch-on-broomstick logos that she sees everywhere are to her far more disappointing than scary.
An ancestor 11 generations back on her mother's side, Susannah Martin, was one of 14 women and five men who were swept to the top of Gallows Hill by the storm of the witchcraft trials of 1692.
Another man was pressed to death after refusing to plead guilty or innocent in one of the most bizarre chapters in American history.
Johnson and others would like to close the book -- and if they get their way in the Massachusetts Legislature, they will.
A general amnesty in 1711 exonerated many victims and offered monetary compensation to their families, but only to those relatives who came forward.
In 1957, the Legislature named another victim, Ann Pudeator, when one of her relatives came forward. It also attempted to clear others, but neglected to name them. That left five women yet to be cleared individually by name, Susannah Martin among them.
More than 300 years after the atrocities were committed, a bill before the Massachusetts House of Representatives finally would address the situation, amending the 1957 legislation to insert the names of Martin, Bridget Bishop, Alice Parker, Margaret Scott and Wilmot Redd in place of "certain other persons."
Johnson and other descendants of victims of the hysteria, who insist they're not seeking any further compensation, say it's time.
"Those five souls can't rest until their names are officially cleared," said Johnson.
Sandra Gingery, another of Martin's descendants, lives on a ranch in Montana. She said that her thoughts often stray to a faraway place she has never been. "I hope that before I die I will get to Gallows Hill," she said.
She also hopes to see justice for her ancestor, who was convicted without a proper defense on dubious evidence by an arguably illegal court. Like others, Martin was shackled to a dungeon wall and hanged after refusing to lie and admit that she was a witch. Martin was treated just as poorly in death, unceremoniously dumped in a common grave that might have been a shallow ditch or a rock crevice.
"It's as though they're still hanging up there on that hill," Gingery said. "Let's finally cut that rope and call them mothers, fathers, and grandmothers and grandfathers, which they (were), and do this out of respect."
Thoughts of Martin make Gingery sad. "Susannah loved animals, and cats followed her around," she said. "She probably fed them, and that's why they liked her. But at the time, that probably raised suspicion."
Some descendants credit Salem native Paula Keene with raising awareness of the unredeemed victims. An art teacher in Salem, Keene was studying the trials in a graduate course at Salem State College when she learned of the oversight.
"It was a terrible injustice," said Keene, standing near the rocky crest of Gallows Hill, just steps from where she lived as a child. "When I was little, I didn't even know that they weren't witches. We would run around looking for bones."
Keene approached state Rep. J. Michael Ruane, a Salem Democrat, about filing a bill. He did so in the 1997-98 session, but it stalled in committee. Since then, it's been refiled twice, and is now before the Judiciary Committee, which has a Dec. 15 deadline to act on it. If the legislation passes, it would go to Gov. Jane Swift for her signature. Swift spokeswoman Sarah Magazine said last week it was premature to comment on the bill.