There’s this theatre in the park that is known to be haunted.
The stories are quite outrageous from wild zoo-type animals to a satanic cult frequenting the area. Most people discount this by saying “Nothing has been substantiated.” Of course they’re going to say that, they have made a substantial investment in the property with their outrageous homeowners association fees.
I get really strange vibrations from this area, even when I’m driving by a block or two away. Now, there I am right in the middle of the property getting ready to step onto the stage. They were putting on a melodrama and needed a honky-tonk piano player. I wanted to ask what happened to their regular piano player, but knew I wouldn’t receive a straight answer. I also wondered where was everyone. The place looked disserted and I wasn’t sure I had the time right.
What I found strange was all the sound equipment cluttering up the stage.
“Just start playing,” I heard over a loud speaker. “We want to get a sound check.”
I started playing Tiger Rag by Jelly Roll Morton. The speakers behind me started vibrating and bouncing a bit on the stage. I stopped playing and looked around.
“Why did you stop?” demanded the voice over the speaker.
“The vibration of –”
“You’re being paid to play, not talk.” I began playing Chopin’s Nocturn. I started out slowly then put the off beat into the tune to give it a ragtime feel.
“Stop tapping your foot,” the disembodied voice bellowed through the speaker above me.
I didn’t think I was tapping my foot. I felt something behind me. I looked back and all the sound equipment was stacked up. The cords were wound around the legs of the piano bench.
I stood up, walked off the stage and continued walking out of the park and to my car. My cell phone rang as I leaned against my car to calm down
“Why did you leave?”
I answered the question with a question of my own, “Have you looked at the stage?”
“Well, no . . .”
“Where are you?” I asked.
He said he was in a remote location, but could hear what was going on. He had a camera that didn’t have a very wide field of vision except the area where I sat before the piano keyboard and the open panel of the upright piano. Behind me and the floor were out of the camera’s view.
Needless to say I wasn’t pleased by this arrangement and I let him know that either someone was there or the rumors that the stage was haunted were true. This seemed to be typical poltergeist behavior. No way was I returning to that stage.
It was obvious that the spirits didn’t want me or anyone else on that stage playing the piano.
I never heard what happened to make the piano player quit or if this particular melodrama was performed there or at another venue. I didn’t even know why the sound man wasn’t at the park. My friend, Barbara, set this gig up for me — not that I wanted it or needed it. I needed to contact her once I calmed down to get all the particulars of this situation.
On my way home, I had this strange craving for a hamburger and fries. The place I liked was on the other side of town — not that it’s that large of a town, but I didn’t know if I wanted to go that far. There were some old houses I needed to pass by and there was always something strange going on in that part of town — with the spirits and the traffic.
I also had an uncomfortable feeling there was something, not someone, but something in the back seat of the car. I didn’t dare turn around. There was no refection in the rearview mirror.
I decided to call Barbara and have her meet me or just barge in on her at home. Fortunately, she was home and invited me to visit.
That was a relief. I wanted to get out of the car as soon as possible.
Barbara had a smudge stick ready when I arrived. We went through my whole car, including the trunk and even smudged me. I was sure I picked up something at the theatre.
My craving for fast food was gone. The uncomfortable feeling of being watched was also gone. I was no longer upset with Barbara for the fiasco at the park.
“How did it go at the rehearsal?” she asked innocently.
I explained that no one was there except someone giving orders through a loud speaker and poltergeists playing games.
“Alicia said there was a full dress rehearsal and they needed a piano player.”
“Well, during the hour lag time between your call and my arrival at the park, plans were changed.”
I could now feel irritation towards Alicia, but Barbara was ahead of me. She had her on the phone demanding an explanation.
Alicia claimed to not have called Barbara. They had a piano player and their rehearsals were in the evening.
Was this a prank?
I remembered a group of paranormal researchers who asked me a month earlier to help them investigate the park and the theatre in particular. I flatly refused. Could they be behind this?
I was on the phone, “Hi Bob, how’s your research going at the theatre?”
Bob hedged, but eventually came clean. “Stuff always happens around you,” was his lame excuse.
“How did you stack up the sound equipment and wrap the cords and cables around the piano bench?”
“I didn’t do that, I was in the van and Pete was locked in the bathroom, backstage.”
They used me to fish out the poltergeists they believed to be causing all the trouble at the theatre. Pete was to record things from backstage, but he followed the sound of footsteps into the bathroom and got locked in. They got nothing for their efforts.
I never did see the entity that was in my car. I was just glad it was gone. I imagine it’s back at the park hiding in the shrubbery scaring people who are dumb enough to be walking around there.
Yes, I do encounter strange people from time to time. And, I do attract some paranormal experiences I’m not especially eager to have, but such is life …
I hope you enjoyed this little paranormal experience I encountered … and enjoyed how the poltergeists did have the last laugh.
During this Halloween week, I thought a real ghost story would be in order.
On this fall evening, I had a few friends over. We were sitting around the fire pit near my patio.
As is usually the case, we started talking about urban legends. I’ve always thought some truth originated from them, but the location is usually never pin pointed and some have been proven false, but retold nevertheless.
Someone mentioned the urban legend “The Babysitter.” I always get a creepy feeling about that story, but I didn’t expect my friend Barbara’s reaction.
“That really happened to me,” Barbara said quietly.
We waited. I was torn between wanting to know and not wanting to hear a story that would keep me up until the break of dawn. Especially an urban legend I already found disturbing. I didn’t need to put a real person’s face on it.
“It’s not exactly like the urban legend, but the similarity cannot be mistaken,” she began. “I was at my aunt and uncle’s house staying with my younger cousins. My parents were having an anniversary party for them. My brothers had dates and that left me to stay with the cousins.”
She quickly added, “No one was killed.” And, the only similarity to the urban legend is the babysitting part … but I’m sure there are numerous variations.
I just knew it had to do with telephone calls or creepy sounds upstairs or in the basement. I had to shut off my wandering imagination.
Barbara’s story took place in the mid 1960’s.
“We were all downstairs. Aunt Harriet had dinner prepared for us. June and I just had to put it on plates. Brady and Mark were watching an old western on television. They wanted to continue watching their program and set up TV trays for all of us to eat together in the living room. During the commercial, the boys got a cold bottle of soda for each of us and made a big production of popping off the caps. They carried in their plates and the sodas just as the program began. June and I followed with silverware, napkins and our own plates.”
“I remember just getting settled when the telephone rang.”
No one was there, but the phone line seemed to crackle.
Barbara returned to the living room and began eating when the telephone rang again. She got up to answer it. This time there was laughing on the line. She decided it was a prank call and said, “Tell me the joke and I’ll laugh along with you.” She heard a distinct click indicating the call was disconnected.
“During the commercial break, we refilled our plates in the kitchen, grabbed another roll or two and the boys opened up another bottle of soda for each of us.”
They were having a pleasant evening together, it was like they were having their own “party” in front of the television.
After dinner and after the television program, the boys searched for something else to watch while June and Barbara washed the dishes. The boys later put the soda bottles in the garage and took out the trash.
They rushed in white as ghosts. “Upstairs, we saw someone in Mom’s sewing room.”
June didn’t believe them at first. She knew her brothers were probably up to something. Barbara immediately believed them. She went outside and the sewing room window was dark.
The boys insisted the light was on and there was someone in the room, walking by the window.
“Let’s all go out for ice cream,” Barbara suggested.
They all got into her car, parked out front. June noticed the light on in the front bedroom window.
“That’s my room!” she said. “I didn’t have my light on.”
They watched the window. Nothing crossed in front of it, but the next window lit up. They were sure someone was in the house.
Barbara carefully drove to the store. She found a telephone booth and all four of them crammed inside as Barbara called her house. Her father answered. She told him what was happening and she and her cousins were at the grocery store. He told her to come home with her cousins.
She had to pass the house on her way home and saw her uncle’s car parked across the street. She parked behind him. He was relieved they were safe and said he was waiting for the police.
A couple of police cars pulled up and parked a couple of houses away on the same side of the street as her aunt and uncle’s house. Her uncle got out of the car to join them.
The police went inside. When they stepped on the porch, the porch light went out. Two other officers went around back.
Barbara remembered leaving the kitchen light on when they left. It was now out.
The police went inside and through every room in the house. What they found was disturbing.
Uncle Roy told Barbara to go home with her cousins.
“Daddy’s going into the house,” Brady said.
“What’s in the house,” Mark wanted to know.
That’s what everyone wanted to know. They waited for Uncle Roy.
He returned with the police. Neither Uncle Roy, nor the police gave much information, but they asked plenty of questions from what they did that evening to what they had for dinner. Barbara explained about the telephone calls. The boys spoke about the light being on in the sewing room.
Aunt Harriet remembered checking the bedrooms before she and Roy left for the evening after Barbara arrived. Nothing was out of place she insisted.
Barbara could attest to the fact that no one went upstairs. The bathroom downstairs was used. All the children were in agreement. Either the boys were together or June and Barbara were together when they were all in the living room.
They didn’t hear anything upstairs.
Years later Barbara found out what the police found and why her aunt and uncle moved out of the house.
No windows were found open. All the outside doors were locked, but something strange had entered the house or been in the house when Harriet and Roy left the children in the care of Barbara.
It was strange no one heard anything, but the television was on and they were watching a western with galloping hoofs and gun fire.
Upstairs was a complete mess. Toys were thrown around the room, beds were set upended against the wall, some toys were broken and all the heads of June’s dolls were gone — not in the trash or anywhere in the house. Clothes were ripped, not slashed with a knife while still on their hangers. Drawers were dumped out and the contents ripped up.
This was impossible for Barbara and her cousins to have done during the two to three hours they were alone in the house.
It was concluded that it had to be poltergeists.
Harriet and Roy didn’t return to live in the house with their children. They hired someone to clean the house and remove all the furniture to the dump. They stayed with Barbara’s family for a couple of weeks before moving into an apartment while they were selling the house.
Whatever was in the house may not have wanted to harm Barbara and her cousins, but since Harriet and Roy were away, it made it very clear that it didn’t want them in the house.
Barbara has never forgotten that night and still gets chills remembering the laughter she heard over the telephone.
This has been some weekend with Halloween Parties . . . and All Hollows Eve is still a few days away …
I don’t know about trick-or-treat-ers running around the neighborhood.
I have noticed there are some strange things going on … last week and over the weekend … This is the reason for sharing this real ghost story with you.
And, I don’t have an explanation as to the strange paranormal experiences others are having … the veil must have lifted to a degree … or our imaginations are on overdrive …
Everyone has quirks. My friend Joan has a thing for leaving doors and cabinets half open.
Doors are to be either opened or closed. Cabinets, she prefers to have closed, drawers, too.
Everyday when she came home from work, doors were half open, cabinets half open, and drawers pulled out.
She decided she had a ghost that was messing with her.
A few days later, at work, she noticed her desk drawers were opened, the door to her office was half open and the filing cabinet drawers were opened and pulled out. She locked her office, desk and file cabinet before leaving. It was something she did every evening as did others in the office.
The janitorial service the company used would lock the doors of the offices. All the employees had separate keys to their desks and file cabinets.
Joan lived alone and no one had keys to her house.
When Joan’s sister, Holly, accepted her invitation to visit the following weekend, Joan asked her to bring her ghost hunting equipment with her.
Holly arrived with her ghost hunting team late that Friday night. Some were going to investigate the office and others Joan’s house.
Joan accompanied half the group to the office (three others) and Holly stayed at the house to investigate with the other half of the group (also three members).
At each location cameras were set up. They also had EMF sensors (also referred to as The Ghost Meter).
They both saw what they believed to be poltergeist activity opening doors and drawers. It appeared to be almost earthquake activity of doors swinging freely half opened or half closed and the drawers made jumping movements — not smooth openings. The kitchen cabinets swung open smoothly and adjusted to closing halfway.
It was all quite odd.
The group decided to do some research about both locations.
The strange thing was that both Joan’s house and the office building were once owned by the same man in the 1920’s. He was an attorney who was rumored to have poisoned his wife so he could marry his secretary. It does seem fitting that she would haunt both locations, but why Joan’s office and not the one used by her former husband?
With more research and consulting a psychic it was uncovered that the annoying ghost had once worked in the office Joan occupied before her marriage.
As has often been believed that poison is a woman’s means of murder, the psychic reasoned the annoying ghost was slowly poisoning her husband, but he discovered her putting cyanide in his food and drink and would switch plates and glasses with hers. So, in the end she poisoned herself.
It is a strange tale, but why was she taunting Joan who was not a relative and how did she know of Joan’s quirk of not liking doors, cabinets and drawers half or partly opened?
The simple answer is observation. This is how she decided to get Joan’s attention.
The annoying ghost didn’t stay with Joan much longer after the truth was uncovered. Did she want Joan to believe her husband poisoned her? Or to acknowledge that she actually poisoned herself?
Does the truth set one free?
Joan still lives in the same house and works in the same office. She thinks of the annoying spirit from time to time and wonders if she’ll return.
She’s relieved that the ghost only messed with her obsession and didn’t try to poison her.
I hope you enjoyed this real ghost story. I did. It had a happy ending … and gave us a bit of insight into the paranormal.
I’m always searching for answers or some insight into the realm of the paranormal … I’m not so much in getting the wits scared out of me … that has happened, but not something I seek …
I do hope this Halloween Season you and your family will be safe …
Can an obsession be caused by tragic events from long ago?
There’s an old song that came out in the late 1950’s by the Rays called “Silhouettes”.
Brian and Karen are a young couple in their mid to late 20’s. Neither of them had heard the song until they went to an oldies sock hop a friend of theirs was having. It was a Friday night in late July, 2010. They were both in college, but hadn’t met until that night.
They danced to that song. They went out on the patio for some fresh air and they did see “Silhouettes” on the curtain, but when they returned inside, there were no curtains on that particular window. They could clearly see through onto the patio and the pool beyond which were lit up.
It seemed as though they went through some “time warp.”
Karen began to feel uncomfortable and went home. Brian promised to call her in a couple of days.
“That song kept going through my mind that night,” Karen recalled. “I could feel myself dancing with Brian.”
She heard someone whisper her name. When she opened her eyes and looked around the room, she saw two silhouettes dancing. (Her mother always kept the hall light on at night.)
Karen became frightened. Turned on the lights in her bedroom and thoroughly looked around, even under the bed, in the closet and checked the windows to make sure they were locked. Of course, she found nothing out of place, but that creepy, cold, yet clammy feeling enveloped her.
Early Saturday morning Karen got up. Her father was at the kitchen table drinking coffee and finishing his breakfast. Her mother was upstairs packing for their overnight stay at the cabin they bought years ago.
“How was the party?” he asked. “Have a good time?”
“Oh, the party was fine.”
Her father knew her words didn’t match her behavior so he looked her straight in the eyes and asked, “What happened?”
Reluctantly, Karen told him about dancing with Brian, going outside, seeing the silhouettes . . . and the strange silhouettes she saw in her bedroom after someone called her name.
Her father told her it was just a dream, but Karen didn’t contradict him.
“Why don’t you come to the cabin with us?”
Karen knew her father was concerned, but she declined the invitation. She had a part-time job at Target and wanted to go to work. She did, however, feel uncomfortable staying in the house alone that night.
Karen ate her breakfast in silence.
Her father left her to her thoughts.
Her mother came in and sat down beside her with a cup of coffee.
“Your father told me about the party and your bad dream,” she said. “Is Brian a nice boy?”
Karen confided in her mother about Brian’s family owning the local jewelry store and his older sister worked part time in the archives at the library. Her husband was an investment broker. She added, “I hope he calls.”
“I remember Marian, we went to high school together.” Marian is Brian’s mother. “I haven’t seen her for years.”
Karen’s father found his wife and daughter sitting at the kitchen table deep in thought.
“Are you ready to go?” he asked his wife.
Karen was hoping they’d decide not to go, but she also knew there were some repairs her father wanted to make at the cabin.
After her parents left for the cabin, Karen got ready for work.
She stopped by the library to look up any information she could find in the archives about the house on Birch Street. It was one of those restored old homes. Nothing fancy like a Victorian, but one that was built in the 1930’s and had been completely upgraded and modernized. It was on a half acre lot near the country club.
When Karen entered the library, she saw Brian sitting with a woman, studying some old books. She immediately went to the back of the library where the archives were stored.
The woman who had been sitting with Brian walked up to her and asked if she needed any help. Karen assumed the young woman was Brian’s sister. She inquired about the houses on Birch Street and was told those books were being reviewed by someone at the moment.
Karen wanted to know if Brian was having any weird experiences when she very clearly saw the silhouette of two dancers in an aisle to her left.
She became so unnerved by the experience that she ran out of the library without saying anything.
Karen arrived early to work. She hoped her friend who invited her to the party could help her with the history of her parent’s house.
There were others at work, who had also attended the party stocking shelves, folding clothing and straightening up displays. Karen saw her friend and assistant manager, Chelsea, working on a display of Halloween decorations.
That creepy, cold, clammy feeling came over Karen once again. She didn’t see the dancing silhouettes, but she felt as though she was being watched. The whole store was eerily quiet. A few customers were milling around, the canned music was playing softly in the background.
All of a sudden a display of toys fell from the shelves making at first a crashing sound, then beeps, chirps, whirls and screeches. Karen followed Chelsea to the toy department. It looked as though all the items inside the boxes were trying to get out.
“What on earth . . . ” Chelsea whispered. Her eyes were huge as she looked from the mess to Karen.
Chelsea’s boyfriend, Frank said, “Stand back, I’ll take care of this.” He was calm. Almost too calm, as though things like this happened all the time.
The truth was, things like this did happen all the time to Frank.
The background music immediately started playing “Silhouettes”. Chelsea burst into tears.
Karen and Chelsea went to the employees lounge.
When Chelsea composed herself she explained, “When we first moved into that house, I found a box of old 45 records and an old record player in the basement. I fell in love with that silhouette song and many others recorded in the 1950’s. I believed that era was the best thing ever. I studied everything I could get my hands on about the 50’s and 60’s. It became an obsession that my parents thought was weird and sent me to a psychiatrist.”
She explained how she saw kids dancing in the living room with the furniture pushed back and shoes off.
“I could hear the music in my mind. I would even dance with them. Then things started to get strange.”
Chelsea started seeing silhouettes of dancers everywhere she went — school, home, the mall, even at the psychiatrist’s office. She was sent away to a psychiatric facility for extensive therapy.
“After being away for a year,” Chelsea explained, “I returned home and continued therapy.”
She didn’t see the silhouettes of dancers and she no longer was obsessed with the 50’s and 60’s until she met Frank.
“All that therapy down the drain,” she lamented. “Frank had an old restored T-bird. He had all the old songs on CDs and played them constantly.”
Chelsea fell right into the trap of Frank’s obsession which rekindled her own. It felt so natural to her. She thought she had a past life in that era and had some unfinished business her soul needed to work out.
But, what did this have to do with Karen? Why was she seeing silhouettes and dancers? She knew she had to see Brian and wondered if he was still at the library.
Karen volunteered to take Chelsea home and before returning to work stopped by the library. Fortunately for her she saw Brian leaving the library. They met at a restaurant to talk.
“I couldn’t get that silhouette song out of my mind,” Brian began. “Or what we saw.”
He contacted his sister at the library and told her what had happened. She looked through the archives at the library looking for anything that shed light on the situation. The only thing he found was about a fire in the old high school gym back in 1959. It was believed to be arson, because the doors to the gym were chained with padlocks. There was a spring dance in the gym at the time. Many students and chaperones had died in the gym from smoke inhalation before the fire trucks arrived.
They crossed referenced the list of names of the deceased students and found that Chelsea’s great-aunt had died that night in the gym.
The strange thing was that Frank’s great-great-grandfather owned that house on Birch Street and he lost a son in that fire.
Brian and Karen believe that Chelsea’s great-aunt and Frank’s great-uncle are the silhouette dancers they saw that Friday night.
Were these spirits trying to give Brian and Karen a message? Or were they just caught up in the energy of the moment?
There are still unanswered questions for the young couple, but fortunately they are no longer bothered by the silhouettes, but they will never forget their experience.
Cemeteries mean different things to different people.
Lori moved back home to live with her parents after a bitter divorce. She didn’t want to burden her parents with her sadness and bitterness, so everyday she went to the cemetery and just poured her heart out on the grave of someone she didn’t know.
She would go to the oldest session, knowing it was the quietest and least visited. There was the headstone of Rosemary who was born in 1823 and died in 1848 at the young age of 25.
Lori forgot about her sadness when she read the dates on the headstone.
“Excuse me Rosemary, but why was your life cut short?” she asked as she sat down. Then she apologized. “I’m sorry, where are my manners. I’m Lori and I’m 25. My husband divorced me and I’m now living with my parents.”
Lori didn’t expect an answer, but she was hoping for one. She imagined how great it would be for a ghost to come out of her grave and have a heart-to-heart talk with her.
She heard a whispered “Divorce?”
It did sound like a question, so Lori answered. “I married too young as my parents kept telling me. Ray’s parents said the same thing to him. We just graduated from high school. It seemed to be the right thing to do.”
Lori explained how she worked full-time in a little boutique owned by a woman who became ill and needed someone to manage the shop. “I loved my job and took some night classes to learn about managing a dress shop and about keeping the books and ordering merchandise.”
Ray was able to quit his part-time job and attend college full-time since Lori was working and making good money to support them.
The owner of the boutique passed and left the store to Lori.
“I was both scared and excited, but the stress of owning a store got to me.”
She worked night and day at the boutique. Ray was understanding at first. He’d bring take-out and they’d eat together and talk.
“Ray insisted I sell the boutique. He wanted to buy a house and begin a family after he graduated from college. He had a job waiting for him.”
Lori agreed to sell the boutique and to use the money to buy a house. The extra money was to get them through until Ray’s graduation and his employment. Things, unfortunately, didn’t go as planned.
She found out that she couldn’t have children and this was the deal breaker for Ray. He wanted a divorce.
Lori heard “No children.”
It was a statement. She felt Rosemary was interacting with her, but she didn’t know if it was just a response to what she had said or if Rosemary was trying to tell her something.
“Rosemary, were you married?”
“Almost,” was the reply.
Communicating with the dead was not at all how Lori imagined it to be. She needed to ask the right questions or do some research in the newspaper archives.
Lori decided to stay and try to get answers from Rosemary.
“Did you die on your wedding day?”
“Before.”
“Can you give me more than one word answers, Rosemary?” Lori asked frustrated.
“Murdered.”
This was getting interesting, but Lori was impatient.
Fortunately, someone passed by and asked, “Are you related to Rosemary?”
“No, I was just sitting here. Are you a relative?”
“Yes, as a matter of fact, I am. Rosemary had a tragic life. She was planning to get married, but she died before the wedding.”
“What happened?”
“No one knows.”
“Was she murdered?”
“What made you ask that!” The woman was so indignant that she walked away in a huff. Lori knew she had to solve this mystery. She knew it would take a long time trying to get at the truth with Rosemary, but she was determined to try.
Everyday Lori visited Rosemary’s gravesite. She’d ask questions, some days she’d receive cryptic responses and other days receive nothing at all.
After a month, Lori decided to consult a psychic.
She learned that the man Rosemary was planning to marry was named Jonathan Westlake. He had a wife and four children in another state. That was during the time he was courting Rosemary and asked her to marry him.
According to the psychic, Mrs. Westlake, Jonathan’s mother, came to put a stop to Jonathan’s adulterous affair by arranging the disappearance of Rosemary.
“But Rosemary told me she was murdered,” insisted Lori.
After several more sessions, Rosemary was able to communicate the actual facts of her death.
Yes, she did meet with Mrs. Westlake and learned of Jonathan’s wife and family. Rosemary was devastated by the news. She walked home to her parent’s house after the meeting.
Rosemary’s parents lived on a farm outside of town. She walked that lonely deserted road hundreds of times while growing up there to go to school and to visit with friends. It never bothered her. She enjoyed the exercise, but her mind focused on the betrayal. She plotted in her mind how she would ruin Jonathan Westlake. He sold farm equipment to the various farmers. That was his reason for being there. Her parents were well-known and influential in the town. It was because of her parents and the announcement of her marriage that persuaded other farmers to buy from Jonathan.
Evidently, the elder Mrs. Westlake and her son knew Rosemary could cause trouble for him. Rosemary had to die before she reached the farmhouse. And that was exactly what happened.
“I knew I was being followed,” Rosemary told the psychic. “I heard my name being called by Jonathan. I wasn’t about to stop. I never wanted to see him again. There was nothing he could say that would make this right. He used me!”
“I heard a loud buzzing in my head. It sounded like a swarm of hornets,” Rosemary said sadly.
Lori concluded that Jonathan shot Rosemary in the head. It was confirmed by the psychic.
Jonathan and his mother left that night never to return.
Lori still visits Rosemary’s gravesite. She still finds comfort at the cemetery. She no longer dwells on her failed marriage with Ray and all she gave up for him. She goes to learn what she can about the lives of the men, women and children buried in the old section of the cemetery.
I found this real ghost story interesting — not only to learn about Rosemary, but to learn how Lori’s life turned around. She began volunteering at the Historical Society and writing stories about the lives of those who lived, died and were buried in the local cemetery.
I was shocked when Molly and Kevin came into the coffee shop and sat down across from me.
I was having my coffee and a blueberry muffin while working on my laptop. My ghost hunting friends were busy doing other things and we hadn’t planned to meet at the coffee house. I thought this would be a good time to catch up on my websites.
Molly and Kevin came to my table, sat down and began talking. No preamble of any kind. It was a bit unnerving for me to have a young couple sit down and begin talking as though they knew me … and I them.
It was as though I should have know they spent the weekend in San Francisco and took a tour of Alcatraz and the prison.
Kevin was very precise about mentioning the prison hospital. In particular, the pharmacy. I immediately felt a cold chill run down my spine. There was something in his eyes and demeanor that told me the impact of that tour disturbed him.
I was immediately drawn into what Kevin had to say. I glanced at his wife Molly who was quietly sipping her coffee.
Very quietly, Kevin said, “I was touched by something in that room.”
I turned to Molly, who remained quiet.
Although there were many on the tour, Kevin insists he wasn’t the only one who felt something. Several cried out, announcing that they had been stabbed. The room became freezing. Many ran for the exists, insisting that some sort of riot was about to take place. They felt an urgency to escape.
Cell Block D, solitary confinement, was also a place where people felt uncomfortable. There was a sense of hopelessness that disturbed many.
They heard scuffling of feet throughout the prison, but discounted it, thinking it could be other tourists.
There was a paranormal investigation group there who were given permission to use their equipment to measure room temperature and set up voice recorders and cameras. Some tried to make contact with entities. Some recorded EVPs, but there were no ghostly apparitions caught on their video cameras. This I found out from other ghost hunters who networked with other ghost hunters to find out who had visited Alcatraz that weekend.
Molly finally spoke, “I saw something out of the corner of my eye. It wasn’t of this world.”
I waited for her to explain, but she said nothing more. I wanted to question her, but I knew she would speak when she wanted to share without any prompting from me.
Quite frankly, I was feeling creeped out by the couple sitting with me. I wanted to bolt out of there.
Suddenly a college student working on her lapgop shouted, “Stop touching me!” She was sitting near the back wall, quite a distance from us. It was impossible for someone to be behind her, but she looked behind her anyway and waved her hands above her head. She got up and left the coffee shop with all eyes following her out. Molly’s eyes followed something invisible to the rest of us walking out the door, following the college student.
It became clear to me that something followed Molly and Kevin from Alcatraz.
Both Kevin and Molly became much more animated and spoke about their trip to San Francisco, but said nothing more about Alcatraz. Whatever possessed them, evidently released them.
I was worried about the college student who just left. I hadn’t seen her before or since.
I did ask the barista about her, if he remembered her. He said she was in a few times before her outburst that morning. The few times he walked by her, she would close her laptop so he couldn’t see what she was looking at, then she started sitting with her back to the wall.
I inquired if she ever came in with friends. The barista couldn’t remember anyone ever sitting with her. She spoke to no one and ordered regular coffee, black.
A few days later, couple of college students came forward to join the barista and me. “Shelley’s her name,” one said. “She was in my abnormal psych class.”
“Was?” I inquired.
“I haven’t seen her since she lost it here that morning.”
“She was weird,” volunteered her companion.
“Weird in what way?” I asked.
He shrugged and said, “Just weird.”
“She was interested in serial killers. Always wanting to know what made them behave as they did. She studied them constantly. That’s probably what she researched here each morning with her coffee.”
It seemed to fit that her interest in murderers and the entity that followed Molly and Kevin from Alcatraz could hook up.
I didn’t say anything to the barista or the young couple about what I was thinking.
I left the coffee shop and the young couple followed me to my car.
“I did see her wandering around campus a few days ago, muttering to herself,” he volunteered. “She looked awful, like she hadn’t showered or washed her hair or changed her clothes.”
The only name I had to go by was Shelley. I tried locating her with the help of friends.
I knew she needed professional help.
It’s unfortunate that there are entities among us that are waiting for a perfect prey to possess. They seem to hitchhike with those who don’t protect themselves with a white light. They can also get into objects and hide out in them. That’s why everyone has to cleanse everything they purchase before bringing it into their house or wherever they’re staying.
A couple of years later, I heard about Shelley. She frequented the mental ward of the hospital. She knew how to play the system and was usually released after a week. She would show up there monthly. Then, she stopped coming in. Many speculated she finally succeeded in committing suicide, but there were no police reports.
Upon further investigation, my friends told me she left the area. They contacted others to see if she was in a mental ward of a hospital, but it seems she succeeded in disappearing.
I haven’t seen Molly or Kevin for years. I don’t know if they’re avoiding me or if the entity is back with them and tormenting them when Shelley seeks help. Or there could be more than one entity.
I have no desire to visit Alcatraz. There have been many reports that the place is haunted and there are many people who have had scary experiences there.
I do hope you enjoyed this Real Ghost Story and will tell your friends and family about TwoCansOnAString.com
If you’ve been to Alcatraz and have a true paranormal story to tell, please leave me a comment or email me admin@twocansonastring.com
