And so here it is, the very tractor. It sits in a field, surrounded by a gantlet of carefully placed stones and flowerbeds, near the house where White, now 48, lives on the property.
"Right there is where he got off of it. Right there is where he put everything so we don't move it. And that's where it stayed. Now, that's a powerful ghost, when you can talk to them," he adds.
The spirit girl is nowhere in sight, but perhaps she only comes out at night to play with her tractor. Nighttime is when things get interesting.
"My house - doors open and shut, lights turn on. TVs turn on the middle of the night. Sometimes you take pictures out here and the orbs are so thick it looks like it's snowing. But a lot of paranormal groups rule them out because they can't explain 'em."
Or maybe they can - got Photoshop? - and the answer spoils the fun. Which brings us to the reputation of Lake Shawnee - and White - on the web.
Discovery Channel's GhostLab aside, there's a whole subculture of amateur ghost-seekers. Many find their way to the property for an overnight stay, then post breathless accounts and videos. (Search YouTube with the two phrases 'Lake Shawnee' and 'WV Paranormal Investigation,' for one spirited Q-and-A.)
One ghost-hunting group became so enamored of the bearded White's avuncular style and helpfulness (he plays a mall Santa Claus at Christmas) they named their MySpace site after him: myspace.com/gaylordsdigitalsghosts.
They added this paean of praise: "We've become dedicated to this stretch of land, enthralled by the mystery and death that surrounds it, and we've grown to care about the souls which have contacted us ..."
But another poster on a poltergeist forum on Topix.com serves up another, not uncommon, thread of commentary: "Lived around here all my life and never seen or heard a ghost at Lake Shawnee. Money, money, money is the name of the game."
White, in the manner of unperturbed, seasoned showmen everywhere, shrugs off the naysayers.
He has other businesses, besides, including Twin Arrows in the Mercer Mall, an American Indian jewelry and gift shop, and Gaylord's Custom Signs in Princeton.
Even were it true that he is just working an alternative business plan for the old amusement park property, he seems to genuinely enjoy the thrills and chills the place continues to offer with him as its master of ceremonies.
One of his brothers, he notes, wants to bulldoze the rattletrap rides, put in townhouses and develop the place. Not over his dead body, he says. Or not until he's dead - which conjures the delightful image of White haunting his own property.
"I have fun doing it. I love the place," he says.
Just be sure you ask permission for a ghost tour. And most assuredly do not try sneaking onto his property after dusk, as some foolhardy souls have attempted.
Then, you'll really be in for a fright, says White.
"The scariest thing they'd ever meet is me in the middle of the night."
For information on ghost tours, call White at 304-487-1819.