by Sharon | Mar 9, 2019
Here’s a true story about a haunted house by the railroad tracks.
I love haunted house stories, but add the railroad tracks and I’m thrilled. I do love old railroad tracks and railroad depots. I love model railroad trains. There is just something extremely special about them. It may be all the old movies I saw or old books I read as a kid, or that my grandmother’s house had the railroad tracks and depot beyond her backyard. I loved climbing on the fence to wave at the conductor when he’d pull into the station. It was a thrill I’ve never forgotten. This is where my brother taught me to climb the old walnut tree in the backyard, but the conductor couldn’t see me, so I’d hang on the fence. We’d also have a great view from the back upstairs bedroom window, but I preferred the fence.
Was my grandmother’s house haunted? Is this a story about that? No, this was just an introduction. I have shared some experiences about my grandmother and her sister, but this isn’t my story, it’s from JoAnne who came to the coffee shop one morning to share her story.
The house came alive at night.
That was an excellent opening that got everyone’s attention right from the start. When JoAnne was a child, she and her mother would visit her Aunt Louise and cousin Sadie. They had great fun together and were almost like sisters.
At breakfast one morning, Aunt Louise whispered to her sister Martha, I heard it again last night. There was a bouncing ball on the stairs and she heard a man yell, “Billy, stop bouncing that ball down the stairs, you’ll break the window.”
Martha was uncomfortable talking of ghosts in front of JoAnne, but Sadie didn’t seem to be bothered or traumatized by living in a haunted house. Nevertheless, Martha said it must be the train rattling the whole house when it came by. It was all she could think of to say since she didn’t hear the bouncing ball or the man shout out. The house was well insulated and some distance from the tracks, but if you listened, you could hear the train whistle while it passed to warn travelers when it crossed the road down the street. JoAnne always found the sound comforting.
She asked her cousin if the house was haunted and she answered in the affirmative. She saw a woman in her bedroom a few times looking for something. At first, she thought it was a burglar and shouted out to her mom, but when she came in the room and turned on the light, no one was there. Her father, Uncle Fred, looked throughout the house and checked the windows and the doors, but nothing was there. Sadie remembered seeing her several more times and finally she stopped coming, but there were others.
JoAnne was intrigued and wanted to see a ghost. They thought they arrived on the train. At one time the old house was a boarding house a several decades before they moved in. Neighbors spoke of all the interesting people who stayed at the boarding house for one night or longer. There was a wedding there once and one elderly woman did die in her sleep in one of the middle bedrooms with windows on the side of the house. One particular neighbor claimed to see a woman looking out the window.
JoAnne had to check that out, but never saw anyone in the window, but she did see shadowy figures in the stairway when she looked through the large window on the other side of the house.
A few years later, JoAnne and her mother moved into the old haunted house near the railroad tracks.
JoAnne’s father was a traveling salesman and was in a serious accident. He was in the hospital for several weeks, but didn’t survive the internal injuries he suffered and never awoke from the coma due to the head injuries sustained in the accident.
It was a sad day when they arrived. Sadie was welcoming and for a few months the girls shared a room before JoAnne decided to move into the room next door overlooking the front of the house.
JoAnne’s mother moved into one of the middle bedrooms. Her aunt and uncle had the master suite at the back of the house.
There were six bedrooms upstairs with three bathrooms, not counting the one in the master suite. There were two bedrooms downstairs with an adjoining bathroom. There was a full basement that had old furniture and numerous boxes filled with a variety of items. No one went into the basement and no one spoke of the basement. One of the downstairs bedrooms was used as Uncle Fred’s office and the other was Aunt Louise’s sewing and craft room. The two remaining upstairs bedrooms were guest rooms available for visiting relatives.
JoAnne became aware of the noises outside her bedroom door and the sound of the bouncing ball on the stairs. She remembers it was a Saturday night, just about a week after she moved into a room of her own that she heard the breaking of glass. “Now you’ve done it!” she heard a man’s voice boom. Joanne slipped under the covers and tried to cover her ears. The fearful cries and screamed that came from the child brought goose bumps to her arms. She wanted to help, but was too afraid to leave the security of her bedroom.
She listened to see if her mother, aunt or uncle would investigate, but no one seemed to hear what she did. She heard what she believed to be the basement door open and slam closed, then the bolt slide into place. “Stay there until I calm down,” the man said. Then she heard the back door open and close.
JoAnne knew the child, the bouncing ball and the man were ghosts that had been there for a long time, but this was different.
She went downstairs and opened the basement door.
Old furniture and boxes were scattered around the basement. She was afraid to go down into the basement alone, so she closed and bolted the door before returning to her room.
At breakfast she shared her experience of the night before. Uncle Fred told her never to go down into the basement again. JoAnne had never seen her uncle angry before.
At church a few hours later, she couldn’t sit still and slipped out the back to walk in the garden and cemetery a short distance from the church. It was quiet and peaceful.
“You staying at the old Corwin place?” an old man asked.
“I’m staying with my Aunt Louise and Uncle Fred,” she answered.
“Yes, that’s the old Corwin place.”
JoAnne thought their conversation was over when he asked, “Any strange things going on over there?”
She knew exactly what he meant and told him of her experience and how angry her uncle became when she told him she opened the basement door.
“Aw, the basement,” the old man said and walked away.
JoAnne didn’t follow the old man. Part of her wanted to know about the basement and another part didn’t. She wanted to forget the whole thing ever happened.
Activity escalated in the old house.
JoAnne thought it was her fault for opening the basement door. Her mother found a furnished apartment they could move in during the following week. Her mother was working and felt it was time for them to have a place of their own.
They had just gotten settled into their apartment when Sadie called and asked her Aunt Martha to come to the house. Something terrible had happened.
Sadie had attended summer church camp that weekend and when no one came to pick her up, she decided to walk home. When she got there, the house was dark and she found both her mother and father at the bottom of the basement stairs.
Martha called the police and they waited out on the front porch.
After the funeral and the reading of the will, Sadie gathered up the remaining clothes and personal items and walked out of the house for the last time.
Fred and Louise left the house and all their belongings to Martha. Sadie could choose to live with her Aunt Martha or her Aunt Brenda and Uncle Ralph in Kentucky. After dinner at the apartment, Sadie left with her aunt and uncle.
JoAnne was afraid of the old house, but she and her mother moved back in.
They cleaned the house from attic to basement. They had a huge yard sale. They had a priest bless the house. They donated some of the old records and photographs of the house and families that left albums in the basement to the historical society.
There didn’t seem to be anything unusual about the basement. Sadie had remarked about hearing chains rattling down there, but no one dared go in there to investigate. That’s why it was so strange for Louise and Fred to be found down there.
The old man JoAnne met at the church cemetery came for a visit about a month later to see how they were getting along. JoAnne asked him about the basement.
He explained that in the 1950’s the house belonged to a couple with a small boy. The couple were a bit strange. They practiced some kind of black magic and had several people staying there that shared their interests.
“Something was always going on there at night and lasted until just before dawn.” He paused for a minute then continued. “That big window was broken in the stairwell I noticed one day and asked the man if he needed help fixing it. He said it didn’t need fixing and told me to mind my own business. After that, the place was empty, but a neighbor complained of hearing a child crying. The police found nothing except some cats behind the house and thought that was what the neighbors had heard.”
“Later there was a stench about the place and the police were called again. They entered through the broken window and discovered the little boy chained to the wall, dead.”
The house remained empty for quite awhile, then someone fixed up the old place and sold it. People lived in the house for awhile and then moved out. It was sold about a dozen times before Louise and Fred bought it.
What lured them to their deaths in the basement remains a mystery. Sadie still blames JoAnne and Aunt Martha for the death of her parents. She’s happy in Kentucky with her father’s brother and his wife and three boys. Did opening the basement door escalate the haunting activity? It seemed to stem more from what Louise and Fred were doing than with opening the basement door. They were practicing some black magic that got out of hand. They found some old books they’d been reading before Martha and JoAnne arrived. Every evening they’d go down in the basement and perform their rituals. The residual ghosts of the previous residents replayed the bouncing of the ball and the breaking of the window. JoAnne believes it was a warning to her to make her aware of what was going on in the basement. Fred’s anger was due to the possibility of JoAnne learning what he and his wife were doing in the basement during full moons and solstices.
This was discovered when Martha and JoAnne cleaned the basement.
JoAnne soon grew to love the old house. Yes, it is haunted, but those who haunt the house cause no trouble. There’s a ghostly priest who comes by in the evening, but several ghostly nuns stay there. At night they hear prayers. It is as comforting as the train whistle she hears in the distance.
Was that creepy enough for you?
Thanks for stopping by!
Sharon
by Sharon | Mar 7, 2019
My Ghost Hunting Group met at our favorite coffee house the other morning.
Many of them keep a journal of their paranormal experiences. I don’t keep one and neither does my friend Barbara. We usually remember our experiences when prompted by another member who shares something or asks a question. Maybe this blog is my paranormal journal of sorts.
My experiences seem to repeat from time to time. For example, there’s a place where I pick up “ghosts” in my car. This is the route I take to go to the bank and to the vet. This particular corner seems to be where they hitch a ride. I don’t especially like it, because they seem to suck the air out of the car. I open the windows and the moon roof to bring more air in. I’m also hoping the added air will suck them out. They don’t need to hitch a ride with me. They can get where they want to go on their own.
I did share this experience at one of our gatherings and others have experienced the same thing on this same corner and also when they leave the cemetery.
Spirits do attach themselves to you.
That’s why it’s a good idea to let spirits know they can’t hitch a ride with you, especially when you’re on your way home.
I know on my recent trip to the vet, I had a few spirits with me. For one, my little Yorkie was barking and growling at something that wanted to get in her seat. She was having no part of it. For two, before we walked into the waiting room, several dogs were barking and whining. I just hope they don’t connect the mayhem with me –I may be looking for another vet.
I do tell my hitchhiking ghosts to get out and not to follow me, but they do what they want. Some follow others out the door and hitch a ride home with someone leaving the vet’s office. Or they go to the various examination rooms snooping around and causing havoc.
I’m wondering if these spirits just want to have fun or if they are looking for a place where they can be comfortable. I always make it a point to drive by mortuaries so they have a chance to find their way to the light and go where they belong, but who am I to say where they belong.
Carla has been plagued by a ghost.
“It started when I was a little girl,” she began. “We were on a camping trip with my aunt and uncle and cousins. We had separate tents — one for each family, but I wanted to be with my cousin, so I was allowed to set up my sleeping bag next to hers.”
After dinner, sitting around the campfire, Carla’s aunt told of a ghost of a little girl that has been with her her whole life. She sees her reflection in the mirror or in a window. It’s odd when she doesn’t see her from time to time.
Carla’s mother remembers that little girl and when she first attached herself to her sister.
“I remember when you were having trouble at school,” Carol said.
“Yes,” Candy said with a faraway look in her eyes — remembering. “I remember when these boys used to follow me around and tease me. Sometimes they would push me. I don’t know why they targeted me to pick on, but it was horrible.”
This little ghost girl was able to knock them down and kick sand in their faces. Instead of this helping Carla, it made me more angry and escalated the situation.
“Come to think of it,” Candy said, “This little girl was not helping me at all.”
But as the story goes, this little girl had been taunted years earlier by another group of boys who were responsible for her death. It was claimed to be an accident, but many believed it was murder.
Ruth Ann, the ghost girl, was a good student and a pretty girl. She lived on the poor side of town, but with the busing, she was assigned to that school along with a whole bus load of other kids. They may have been picked on, too, but Ruth Ann was the main target for this group of bullies.
Ruth Ann missed the bus one afternoon, because she was locked in the bathroom. By the time the janitor heard her pounding on the door and screaming, the bus had already gone without her.
She had no choice, but to walk home.
Rocks were thrown at her — it seemed from all directions. Ruth Ann took off running, but one hit her in the head. When she fell to the ground, the boys circled around her and continued throwing rocks. Some were grabbing at her clothes.
It’s a tragic story and days before DNA testing, but since those accused were from a “good family” and Ruth Ann was from the wrong side of town, nothing much was done about it.
Ruth Ann attached herself to Candy, Carla’s aunt to protect her from the bullies.
Why did she attach herself to Carla during that camping trip?
Carla was having a bullying problem at school. She was a good student and the girls and some boys were calling her a geek and other unflattering names.
It seemed over the years with Aunt Candy, Ruth Ann acquired more skills of protecting the human and seeking revenge upon the bullies. In the lunch room she became quite adept at exploding the catsup and mustard packets to soil the users shirt or blouse or to dump their food on the floor. She thought it great run to have tatter tots scattered in the path of the bullies and watch them slip on them while they were carrying a tray of food.
Eventually, the bullies stopped tormenting Carla, but Ruth Ann continued bothering them.
Carla and her aunt do see Ruth Ann from time to time, but she may have moved on to other children who are experiencing bullying. It may be Ruth Ann’s calling in her afterlife to help others and encourage bullies to change their ways.
Thanks for stopping by!
Sharon
by Sharon | Feb 2, 2019
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Is the Winchester Mansion really haunted?
Psychics have visited the mansion and believe spirits still roam around the grounds and the mansion. The ghost of Sarah Winchester has been seen by many over the years.
On one particular visit, I’ve been there several times, there was a séance I attended. Sadly we didn’t contact Sarah Winchester that night, but I gathered she wasn’t going to be summoned by the likes of psychics and amateur “ghost hunters.”
I didn’t like the way the séance was going so I excused myself and followed footsteps I heard in a corridor. With the echo, your guess would be as good as mine as to where I was going and, of course, I got good and lost. I heard doors open and close. I felt cold spots. I saw orbs of light dancing around. I even saw groups of women in black scurrying away. Door knobs turned. Windows rattled. I was given quite a show of activity, I can’t claim was all of the paranormal nature.
I found the kitchen. I heard someone ask, “Would you like tea, dear?”
I promptly answered, “No thank you.”
I looked around, but no one was there. The kettle wasn’t on and I didn’t want to find out what would happen if I answered, “Yes, thank you.”
I went into another room and sat down. I wanted to take in my surroundings.
I heard someone playing the piano off in the distance. I understood Sarah Winchester was an accomplish pianist. Would I be so lucky to hear her play?
I sat stiffly in the chair. I could feel the movement of cold air moving around me. I thought the spirits were as curious about me as I was about them.
“Why aren’t you at the séance?” I asked to no one in particular.
“Follow,” was the disjointed EVP sound I heard.
I wasn’t sure if it meant I was followed or I was to follow. To be honest, I wasn’t leaving the chair. I wasn’t going to be led around that house of mystery and step out a door that wasn’t at ground level or get any more lost than I already was at the moment.
“Is Mrs. Winchester receiving guests this evening?” I asked, just to break the silence.
A door opened to my left. The piano music had stopped quite awhile ago.
I felt the room turn icy cold.
“This can’t be good for Mrs. Winchester’s arthritis,” I said absently.
“No longer a problem.” I heard distinctly. I quickly turned around to see who had spoken to me.
Nothing was there.
“Are you Mrs. Winchester?” I asked hopefully.
I received no response, but a fire started blazing in the fireplace.
“Better?” I heard.
“Yes, thank you. Can you tell me how to get back to my friends and the séance?”
“No.”
All right, I was just going to sit tight until someone came looking for me.
I don’t know what happened, other than falling asleep with the cozy fire blazing.
My friends found me after the séance and we headed for the motel.
I can’t really tell you much about the séance and the rest of the weekend. I did have a lovely walk in the gardens before we headed for home, but I felt as though I was walking in my sleep.
Once I arrived home, I felt refreshed, but had a very sketchy memory of the Winchester Mystery House.
Thanks for stopping by!
Sharon
by Sharon | Jan 22, 2019
There’s a legendary haunted estate not far from my home.
Many of my ghost hunting friends have visited this place several times over the years, bringing in psychics and other paranormal investigators who have all experienced the same creepy feeling … some even refusing to walk inside.
That’s basically the my feeling when I was invited to visit the place. I could feel my heart racing before we even arrived on the property. I could also sense that we were not welcome — even though we received permission from the home owner.
I’ll admit I’m not all that brave when it come to exploring haunted places. I do have a fascination about the whole paranormal realm, but I won’t put myself in harm. I don’t like being pushed or knocked down — which has happened.
I’m not immediately prone to anger, but with whatever was in the basement of this house wanted to provoke anger and feed off of it.
I mentioned this to my friends before entering the house.
I’m not sure if they heard me or just ignored me because I’m usually the first one to leave an investigation.
We heard very clearly “Get Out!” and much profanity … but we continued investigating the house. I loved the antiques and was surprised by how neat and tidy the house appeared since no one was physically living there.
It was interesting that the farther away from the basement I moved, the calmer I felt … until I opened the door to one of the bedrooms and immediately jumped back.
I later learned of family members who occupied that bedroom were into the dark arts. It is believed they invited some evil entity into the house and it decided to occupy the basement … But there was definitely something going on inside that bedroom.
I heard growling and saw dark shapes moving around. There were knocking sounds coming from a clocked closet door. I heard voices of crying out for help, but I wasn’t stepping foot in that room.
I did call out to them to move into the light, but informed there was no light only darkness and it was blazing hot inside.
I explored some of the other upstair bedrooms.
I could feel a lot of sadness throughout the house.
There had been suicides in the house as well as deaths of natural causes. So, this estate was haunted by a number of entities.
I was curious about those people who had lived and died there and their feelings about the place. I did hear one woman say it was a great place to raise their family, but when some cousins came to stay they got into the dark arts and left the chaos from their rituals behind them when they moved out.
I heard arguing downstairs and decided to see what was happening among my friends and suggest we leave … or at least step outside.
We didn’t need to feed the anger and rage that fed the “beast” in the basement.
It was interesting to see how everyone was on edge after exploring the basement. I suggested they go upstairs and explore there or explore the grounds … but they wanted to stay and argue.
I took the arm of my friend, Barbara, and forced her to come with me outside.
It was almost as though she was in a trance once we got outside on the porch. We sat down on some chairs and after a few minutes Barbara was back to her ol’ jolly self telling me how scared she was in the basement.
“There was something growling at us and swearing … I wanted to leave, but Hank insisted we all stay together and explore every inch of the basement.”
Barbara did return inside the house to get everyone else outside.
It was interesting to watch how at first they continued arguing … but then suddenly stopped … They didn’t seem to know where they were or what was going on.
After a few minutes in the fresh air, everyone was calm and back to “normal”.
I think in some ways that scared me more than what I heard and saw inside the house.
I thought it funny how at one point the “house” wanted us to leave and when we decided to leave the “house” wanted us to stay and explore some more. The front door even opened for us.
Fortunately, we’ve all had enough and were soon on our way back home to have another Real Ghost Story to share.
Thanks for stopping by.
Be sure to check out some of the ghost hunting equipment below to see what you can discover in your own home and surrounding area.
Sharon
by Sharon | Jan 21, 2019
Jill worked the night shift at a convenience store.
There were gas pumps and a car wash.
Right at midnight, every night the car wash would start . . . but there was no car . . .
The manager thought it might be a timer he wasn’t aware of, so he checked it out. Nope! No timer . . . just the detectors when a car came through the door.
Of course, Jill thought of a phantom car which creeped her out. She was busy with customers and restocking as necessary. She knew when the shifts at the hospitals and nursing homes changed there would be some hungry customers. They would fill up on gas, but rarely used the car wash.
Jill was going through her normal routine when there was a lull in business . . . washing down the front of the walkway, sweeping up any debris, emptying the trash barrels, etc.
Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a black hearse ease its way into the car wash.
It didn’t seem solid to Jill . . . it was a dark shadow shaped like a hearse . . . She was the only one there at the time, too scared to move . . . but her body and neck tried to have a look inside the car wash.
When a customer came in with a half dozen kids, Jill went back in the store.
“You’re out late . . .” Jill said as she rang up the purchases.
“Yes, we had a fun day at the zoo,” the woman answered. “My husband should be in shortly, he’s filling the car with gas.” She left with the kids.
Jill watched as the woman got the kids in the mini van. The man’s attention was drawn to the car wash. He finished pumping the gas and quickly got into the mini van and drove away. He paid at the pump, so it wasn’t as though he was leaving without paying . . . but something spooked him . . . and it had something to do with the car wash.
She told Rick, the night manager what had happened.
He confirmed that something strange was happening. He saw what looked like an old-fashioned undertaker in a black suit walking out in the field with a shovel. Rick said it was clear . . . but it wasn’t . . . The man looked right at him, he nodded and gave him a strange smile before taking off in the field with the shovel . . . That was when the apparition was wispy and not as clear.
Rick was shaking from his experience, but when the customers were coming at a steady pace, he settled into work and was greeting the regulars and helping them in record time.
Jill was busy, too . . . but she still wondered about the hearse and the mortician . . .
She did some research in the library the next day and discovered that over a hundred years ago there was a mortuary on that property. The county bought the land to enlarge the road.
From the old photographs, the carriage house was located where the car wash was built.
That was evidently residual energy that repeated an event over and over again . . . But what doesn’t fit is that the mortician saw Rick and nodded to him . . . and maybe to the man in the mini van . . .
Thanks for stopping by!
Sharon
by Sharon | Jan 19, 2019
I like to give my ghost hunting friends something to think about while we’re at my favorite coffee shop.
I was surprised they didn’t laugh me out of the coffee shop. I just got thinking about different hunting seasons and different holiday seasons along with the seasons of the year. Is there a season that is better for ghost hunting? Fortunately, they took me seriously and we had an interesting discussion about their various ghost hunting experiences.
I know when we were having a founders day celebration in town, there were ghostly spirits all over the place. When there are concerts in the park, you’re apt to see ghostly apparitions. Just about every event attracts spirits to them. This got me wondering if these spirits were just having a good time with the crowd of people, sucking up the energy or if they were there because of something else.
It seems one question always leads to another.
Matt didn’t think there was any particular time that was better than any other, but it may have to do with the location and how many other people have been there.
Some people are looking for the “thrill of the moment.” They hope to capture an EVP or have something happen so they can share the experience with friends. “Ghosts aren’t trained animals that follow your commands,” he said. Many times amateur ghost hunters will say such things as move the chair or close the door or move an object. For some spirits it may be difficult to do that and to be honest, would you want to move a chair, close a door or move an object at someone’s command?
If spirits want you to know they are here, they may speak to you or move something. We need to use common sense and treat these entities as humans who are no longer with us.
It seems I got a bit off track, but it explains why Matt believes Halloween isn’t the best time for ghost hunting. All the time up to Halloween, people are visiting haunted sites and making demands and acting like complete jerks. This turns off spirits as well as turning off the living.
Matt did share an experience he had to a known haunted theater.
He got permission and went in with several people who were both curious about the theater and what Matt was going to do. He was upset as were the others by how someone got into the theater and vandalized it.
He spoke with those with him and then spoke to the spirits that were supposed to haunt the old theater. He didn’t speak to them about the vandalism, but of the various plays that were presented on that stage. He spoke of the conversion to a movie theater and mentioned how his father used to go there with his brother and sister on a Saturday afternoon while their parents were in town doing their shopping or his dad was at the barber shop.
As Matt could feel the nostalgia of the moment, he could also feel spirits gathering. The room took on a definite chill. He mentioned many old movies and the various stars. He spoke of how his father told him about the pop corn and the ice cold root beer with so much carbonation that the bubbles wet his nose, but the heady fragrance added to the taste. There was never anything as refreshing.
He was definitely making a connection with the theater ghosts. He thanked the spirits and those who accompanied him and left. He made arrangements to visit again. Matt prefers to make several visits to a location. He does his research between visits. He doesn’t draw any conclusions until his investigation is done, but he admits he has never completed an investigation because he enjoys the spirits he finds and there is always something new to learn.
I remember being in a local cemetery delivering flowers to various grave sites.
It was before Halloween with a nice nip in the air. I could hear movement that echoed throughout the cemetery. I tried to concentrate on where I was going and what I had to do, but the crunch of fallen leaves seemed to get louder and closer to me. I called out saying I had two more deliveries to make and I’d be on my way. I honestly thought it was the caretaker or someone else who had permission to be there. And if it was kids who got in somehow, I’d alert them to the fact that I was aware of them and they weren’t going to scare me.
As soon as I spoke, the crunching of leaves stopped. It seemed more frightening to me to not hear anything than to suspect that someone was out there watching and waiting. I tried to shrug it off, but the longer it took me to locate the right grave site, the more frightened I became.
I started talking again. “Have you seen the grave site of Mrs. Emma Lindquest?” I asked. “It seems she’s around here someplace, but I can’t seem to find her. Her son will be disappointed if this isn’t delivered on her birthday.” I rambled on about what a wonderful mother she was and how her son told me how he liked to surprise her on her birthday with breakfast in bed. He would pick a flower out of the yard and put it in a vase or have it on the tray.
I heard some scuffling of leaves and followed the sound. Someone had cleared away the fallen leaves from her headstone assisting me in making my delivery. I expressed my thanks and gratitude that I never would have found it without their assistance.
Off in the distance, I heard a hollow sounding voice ask, “Who else?”
I immediately said the name and the grave site number. I followed the sounds to my destination.
I believe there had been some Halloween-type pranks being pulled and the spirits that were present at the cemetery when I got there were going to take the upper hand and scare me away, but once they realized I had a job to do and I wasn’t there to cause trouble, they came to my aid.
I was curious about the ghost who helped me, but this didn’t seem to be the time to poke into his business. I know I’ll be there again and if it is meant to be, I’ll make his acquaintance.
Since ghost hunting doesn’t seem to have a definite season, it is good to note that it is best not be frequent places during times of high tourism when some tourists may have personal agendas that chase ghosts away. It’s also good to remember to treat ghosts as we would like to be treated — with kindness.
Thanks for stopping by!!
Sharon
