A woman from Beaumont, Texas shared a great story with me tonight. The story is from her grandmother, who was Miss. Beaumont in 1921 and went on to the Miss America pageant. The story was reported in the local newspaper when everything came to light years after these events.
It all started around 1926. She and her husband lived in a little house, hallway down the middle, rooms on either side. Well, her husband did shift work, so she was alone a lot at odd hours. One night she was sitting in bed reading when a man appeared at the foot of her bed. Top hat, tails, very fancy. She said "What do you want?" and got no response. Again she asked, and he turned and walked into the wall.
She told her husband about it and he told her she was crazy. But later he found himself working nights and they were in bed in the middle of the day and the man appeared again. He just about came unglued, but she asked the man again, "What do you want?" Again, he just looked at her then turned around and walked into her wall.
Months after this her cousin came to visit. One afternoon she was in the bathroom, right off the bedroom, washing her hair in the sink, alone in the house. A shadow passed behind her and she called to Miss. Beaumont. No answer. There was a screened-in porch off the bathroom and the only way to enter it was to go through the bathroom, past her. She saw a shadow moving by the porch and again called out. Finally, she lifted her head out of the sink and standing in the doorway to the porch was the man in the top hat and tails. She fainted.
When the woman's grandmother came back, her cousin told her she could not stay with her anymore and left.
They moved away from the house and in 1938 all the houses on the block were torn down. Miss. Beaumont went to the demolition crew and asked them to let her know if they found anything when they tore down that house and gave them her name and number.
When they got to that wall they tore it down and found a door. They opened it up and there was a small room, inside was a skeleton in a top hat and tails with a bullet between his eyes.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Outside of Dallas
The night before Hurricane Isaac hit the tour was pretty small. But a couple from outside of Dallas joined us and both of them had seen something in their day.
The man had driven down a road through Laurel Land cemetery late one night and saw someone jump over a barrier, cross the road in front of him and jump over the opposite barrier. He turned the car to see where the person was going and there was no one there, just the cemetery. The next day he spoke with a friend who worked there and told him the story. The friend was a security guard, if memory serves, and told the man he was crazy. But sure enough, the next night he was keeping watch and saw the mysterious person cross the road and disappear into the cemetery once again.
The lady had grown up in an old farm house outside of Dallas. The man who built it gets credit for bringing Chalet cows to the US. In her bedroom was a large circular burn mark. The story in town was the family had a daughter who was mentally ill, or handicap, and she was kept in that room. The woman had not seen the girl, but one afternoon in high school her boyfriend drove her home and she saw her father hop onto the wrap around porch and walk around to the side of the house, out of her line of vision. After he disappeared she realized her father was at work.
The man had driven down a road through Laurel Land cemetery late one night and saw someone jump over a barrier, cross the road in front of him and jump over the opposite barrier. He turned the car to see where the person was going and there was no one there, just the cemetery. The next day he spoke with a friend who worked there and told him the story. The friend was a security guard, if memory serves, and told the man he was crazy. But sure enough, the next night he was keeping watch and saw the mysterious person cross the road and disappear into the cemetery once again.
The lady had grown up in an old farm house outside of Dallas. The man who built it gets credit for bringing Chalet cows to the US. In her bedroom was a large circular burn mark. The story in town was the family had a daughter who was mentally ill, or handicap, and she was kept in that room. The woman had not seen the girl, but one afternoon in high school her boyfriend drove her home and she saw her father hop onto the wrap around porch and walk around to the side of the house, out of her line of vision. After he disappeared she realized her father was at work.
Outside Austin
I have never been to Austin Texas, but I hear great things about it. A couple from outside of Austin with two kids had a great ghost story for me, or bits of one.
The woman said that in their old house they had lots of activity: some friends wouldn't even visit because they felt so uncomfortable in the house. But their oldest daughter seemed at home with it. Children seem to be more in tune to these things in general. Frequently their daughter would talk to them about Annie, the little girl in her room. They had a motion sensor video camera in the room. One night they were watching the monitor and saw her get up in her crib and begin to talk. They could see no one in the room, but she seemed to be looking straight at someone. Finally, there was a flash of light, something moving across the room, and she lay down and went to sleep, a moment later the camera shut off.
The woman said that in their old house they had lots of activity: some friends wouldn't even visit because they felt so uncomfortable in the house. But their oldest daughter seemed at home with it. Children seem to be more in tune to these things in general. Frequently their daughter would talk to them about Annie, the little girl in her room. They had a motion sensor video camera in the room. One night they were watching the monitor and saw her get up in her crib and begin to talk. They could see no one in the room, but she seemed to be looking straight at someone. Finally, there was a flash of light, something moving across the room, and she lay down and went to sleep, a moment later the camera shut off.
The slave at the door
An older woman from Chicago, traveling with her grown daughter, came on the tour recently. The woman had a story from when her daughter was just a baby.
She was in Alabama at her in-laws for the first time, a big sprawling house with a service wing. It was 2:00am and she was up in bed for the baby's regular feeding, her husband beside her, when she heard the door open and saw a slave man at the door, a shadowy tall figure with broad shoulders and distinct muscles. She desperately tried to wake her husband but he wouldn't wake. Then she heard her mother-in-law from the other room calling her.
"Do you see him?" her mother-in-law yelled.
"Uh huh," she said.
Apparently the figure had appeared to her mother-in-law as well. Her mother-in-law insisted that the ghost just wanted to see what a girl from the North looked like.
She was in Alabama at her in-laws for the first time, a big sprawling house with a service wing. It was 2:00am and she was up in bed for the baby's regular feeding, her husband beside her, when she heard the door open and saw a slave man at the door, a shadowy tall figure with broad shoulders and distinct muscles. She desperately tried to wake her husband but he wouldn't wake. Then she heard her mother-in-law from the other room calling her.
"Do you see him?" her mother-in-law yelled.
"Uh huh," she said.
Apparently the figure had appeared to her mother-in-law as well. Her mother-in-law insisted that the ghost just wanted to see what a girl from the North looked like.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
Round Rock, Texas
Two older women from Arizona joined my tour this summer and they were great guests. It was not their first visit which is always good to hear.
One of the ladies had a daughter who moved from Rochester, New York to Round Rock, Texas. They had bought a wooden trunk in Rochester and when they moved into a new limestone house in Round Rock they put the trunk in the kids' room and filled it with toys. But the daughter would hear thumping in the trunk and she thought a rat had gotten in the trunk during the move.
She was horrified and made her husband empty out the trunk to find this rat. He cleared the entire thing out and found nothing.
Then one night she saw a child walking up the stairs. She had children and thought one of them had gotten out of bed, but when she checked on them everyone was asleep. After thinking about it she realized none of them had a gown like that, it was long and white and looked very old fashioned.
The woman who shared the story said that of all her children this daughter was the least likely to believe in ghosts. Before, if someone had told her this story she would have told them they were nuts. But she's had a priest out there a few times to get things settled in the house. I don't know how successful it's been for her, you never know.
One of the ladies had a daughter who moved from Rochester, New York to Round Rock, Texas. They had bought a wooden trunk in Rochester and when they moved into a new limestone house in Round Rock they put the trunk in the kids' room and filled it with toys. But the daughter would hear thumping in the trunk and she thought a rat had gotten in the trunk during the move.
She was horrified and made her husband empty out the trunk to find this rat. He cleared the entire thing out and found nothing.
Then one night she saw a child walking up the stairs. She had children and thought one of them had gotten out of bed, but when she checked on them everyone was asleep. After thinking about it she realized none of them had a gown like that, it was long and white and looked very old fashioned.
The woman who shared the story said that of all her children this daughter was the least likely to believe in ghosts. Before, if someone had told her this story she would have told them they were nuts. But she's had a priest out there a few times to get things settled in the house. I don't know how successful it's been for her, you never know.
Highway 5
Highway 5 and Highway 152 in California have a lot of energy about them. A couple from the Bay area joined us a few days ago. They didn't really believe in paranormal activity until a drive down Highway 5. They were near the connection between 5 and 152, it was late at night and up ahead they saw a ball of light. They didn't make much of it at first, but as they got closer there was no oncoming traffic, no explanation for it. When they finally reached it, a wave of cold air passed through the car and was gone. They paused then the man turned to his wife and asked, "Did you feel that?" Both of them were baffled. The children were asleep in the back sear.
That night, after they got home, the couple was asleep in bed, their three year old between them. Suddenly she flew over her dad and hit the dresser. Blood streamed out of a gash above her eye and no one was asleep anymore.
The next day his wife was in the kitchen talking to a friend. The refrigerator was on one side of the kitchen, facing a window on the other side of the room. Her back was to both while she talked on the phone then she heard a thump. She turned around and a magnet from the refrigerator had flown across the room and hit the window.
When they first saw the light and their toddler flew across the room, the man insisted that the family ignore it, deny that anything was happening. But soon he changed his mind and encouraged everyone to accept that something paranormal was happening and just respect it. After everyone in the house came to terms with it, the activity stopped.
That night, after they got home, the couple was asleep in bed, their three year old between them. Suddenly she flew over her dad and hit the dresser. Blood streamed out of a gash above her eye and no one was asleep anymore.
The next day his wife was in the kitchen talking to a friend. The refrigerator was on one side of the kitchen, facing a window on the other side of the room. Her back was to both while she talked on the phone then she heard a thump. She turned around and a magnet from the refrigerator had flown across the room and hit the window.
When they first saw the light and their toddler flew across the room, the man insisted that the family ignore it, deny that anything was happening. But soon he changed his mind and encouraged everyone to accept that something paranormal was happening and just respect it. After everyone in the house came to terms with it, the activity stopped.
Mama Rose
Reserve Louisiana isn't far from New Orleans, but I've never had an occasion to go. A couple with two teen-age daughters came out for the tour a few nights ago. They lived in Reserve in his grandparents' house, a four room house that they had added on to. His great-grandmother died in the bedroom off the kitchen, but it is his grandmother, Mama Rose, who died in the hospital, that their daughter sees in the house, not as an old woman, but when she was young and looked just like their daughter does now.
Before they built onto the back of the house, the two girls shared a room. One night the youngest was sitting up in bed and she saw a glowing woman sitting at the foot of her bed. She told her sister to stop messing with her, she was scared. The figure got up and walked to the dresser and her sister mumbled something. The youngest said "raise your hand" and her sister's hand appeared on the pillow beside her.
Often she would see Mama Rose at the foot of the bed or in the kitchen. The rooms were side by side and most of her time, while she was alive, was spent going between the two rooms.
On another occasion the two girls walked into the kitchen and a flood of perfume followed them. Their mother said, "Girls! Do you have to take a bath in your perfume?" The girls shook their heads and denied they were wearing anything. Their father walked in after them and sniffed for a moment before he realized, "That's my grandmother's perfume."
Before they built onto the back of the house, the two girls shared a room. One night the youngest was sitting up in bed and she saw a glowing woman sitting at the foot of her bed. She told her sister to stop messing with her, she was scared. The figure got up and walked to the dresser and her sister mumbled something. The youngest said "raise your hand" and her sister's hand appeared on the pillow beside her.
Often she would see Mama Rose at the foot of the bed or in the kitchen. The rooms were side by side and most of her time, while she was alive, was spent going between the two rooms.
On another occasion the two girls walked into the kitchen and a flood of perfume followed them. Their mother said, "Girls! Do you have to take a bath in your perfume?" The girls shook their heads and denied they were wearing anything. Their father walked in after them and sniffed for a moment before he realized, "That's my grandmother's perfume."
The Big Bang
Locals come out on the tours more often than you'd think. The other night a family from Metairie joined the tour. They lived in an old house and were a joined family, divorced parents and four kids between them. There was a lot of regular activity at their house, most of it minor but consistent.
His children only stayed at the house every other week-end, but they had their own bedroom. Every time they left the beds would be made and everything in the room neat and tidy. Routinely their stepmother would peek in their room to find the comforter turned up, like someone was trying to look under the bed.
Probably the most dramatic thing to happen was one day when the father was up in the attic working, he heard a loud bang, like the kids had knocked over a bookshelf or something--something huge. He ran downstairs, "What did y'all break?" As he was running downstairs the kids were running out of their room, "Dad, are you alright? Did you fall?" Nothing had been knocked over, nothing was broken. There was no explanation at all, but everyone in the house was shaken.
His children only stayed at the house every other week-end, but they had their own bedroom. Every time they left the beds would be made and everything in the room neat and tidy. Routinely their stepmother would peek in their room to find the comforter turned up, like someone was trying to look under the bed.
Probably the most dramatic thing to happen was one day when the father was up in the attic working, he heard a loud bang, like the kids had knocked over a bookshelf or something--something huge. He ran downstairs, "What did y'all break?" As he was running downstairs the kids were running out of their room, "Dad, are you alright? Did you fall?" Nothing had been knocked over, nothing was broken. There was no explanation at all, but everyone in the house was shaken.
The Feather Cap
It's funny how people react to paranormal experiences, some rationalize them away, while others categorize them. This summer I had a group of adolescent students join the tour and one of them told me that he had one experience that he was confident about.
When he was a young kid he was in bed one night and a man walked right through the wall and sat on the bottom bunk. It terrified him. The only thing he knew for sure about the man was that he had on a feather cap.
Years later in eighth grade his grandmother died. While the family was at her house he looked through some family albums. He had never actually met his grandfather. In the album were photos of the whole family including photos of his grandfather wearing the same feather cap.
When he was a young kid he was in bed one night and a man walked right through the wall and sat on the bottom bunk. It terrified him. The only thing he knew for sure about the man was that he had on a feather cap.
Years later in eighth grade his grandmother died. While the family was at her house he looked through some family albums. He had never actually met his grandfather. In the album were photos of the whole family including photos of his grandfather wearing the same feather cap.
Saturday, July 14, 2012
Weldon, IL
People move around so much these days. A few nights ago I had a family from New Mexico on my tour, but the father had grown up in a farm house in Weldon, IL. The house had been built around the civil war. He and his family would see a couple float through the house. A young couple, their heads and faces were distinct but their bottom halves were just flowing mist.
The father was just two or three when they were there and he would see them and hear them more than anyone else in the family. Some people in the town said that a childless couple had built the house, who knows. But whenever his sister would do something mean to him, the ghosts would play a trick on her, so it all worked out in his favor.
There was one room in the house that was always cold and just felt wrong. Since no one would sleep in it, it became the playroom. They had an old fashioned rocking horse, a heavy one on springs and inevitably it would rock at 2:00pm. One night it was so loud that their mother yelled at his older brother to stop. His brother said, "It's not me, I'm in bed." She told the brother to go and stop the noise. When he went to the playroom the rocking horse was bouncing from the ceiling to the floor, up to the ceiling, down to the floor, loud as could be. The ceilings were at least ten feet high. When his brother turned on the light the horse stopped in midair and floated down to the floor.
Many years later, after the family had moved to New Mexico and the man who took my tour was old enough to drive, he encountered the same ghosts. The family was at a restaurant and he left ahead of them. He heard the woman's voice say, "go back." He went back to the restaurant and road home with his family. On their way they saw a huge accident. If he hadn't gone back he would have been in the middle of it.
The father was just two or three when they were there and he would see them and hear them more than anyone else in the family. Some people in the town said that a childless couple had built the house, who knows. But whenever his sister would do something mean to him, the ghosts would play a trick on her, so it all worked out in his favor.
There was one room in the house that was always cold and just felt wrong. Since no one would sleep in it, it became the playroom. They had an old fashioned rocking horse, a heavy one on springs and inevitably it would rock at 2:00pm. One night it was so loud that their mother yelled at his older brother to stop. His brother said, "It's not me, I'm in bed." She told the brother to go and stop the noise. When he went to the playroom the rocking horse was bouncing from the ceiling to the floor, up to the ceiling, down to the floor, loud as could be. The ceilings were at least ten feet high. When his brother turned on the light the horse stopped in midair and floated down to the floor.
Many years later, after the family had moved to New Mexico and the man who took my tour was old enough to drive, he encountered the same ghosts. The family was at a restaurant and he left ahead of them. He heard the woman's voice say, "go back." He went back to the restaurant and road home with his family. On their way they saw a huge accident. If he hadn't gone back he would have been in the middle of it.
Friday, July 6, 2012
Redondo Beach, CA
Parents are funny. The other night I had a couple on my tour celebrating their kid's graduation from 8th grade without him.
Before kids they had rented a house in Redondo Beach, CA. Every night they would hear furniture being moved around upstairs. They were too chicken to go up and check in the night. But nothing was ever moved when they did go up during the day.
One night when the woman was alone it got so loud, and she was such a nervous wreck, that she screamed, "Stop it. Just stop it up there." Sure enough it did.
The neighboring house could see into their windows, and the neighbors would see an old woman milling around their house. But they never saw her themselves.
Before kids they had rented a house in Redondo Beach, CA. Every night they would hear furniture being moved around upstairs. They were too chicken to go up and check in the night. But nothing was ever moved when they did go up during the day.
One night when the woman was alone it got so loud, and she was such a nervous wreck, that she screamed, "Stop it. Just stop it up there." Sure enough it did.
The neighboring house could see into their windows, and the neighbors would see an old woman milling around their house. But they never saw her themselves.
Sunday, July 1, 2012
Indianapolis tucking in
Tonight I had a local woman entertaining her family from Louisville, Kentucky, a sister and two guys.
The sister's godmother lived in a hundred-odd year old house in Indianapolis. Once when she was sleeping over, she felt something tapping all along her side, like the cat was walking on her, or someone was tucking her it. She opened her eyes and peered over her shoulder at the arched doorway. She saw a woman standing there in a long white dress, like a nightgown. The woman was looking at her, kind, checking on her.
In the morning she asked her godmother if the cat had gotten out in the night. "No" she said. "Well did you check on me in the night?" No.
When she told her godmother what had happened, her godmother nodded. Then she admitted that other people who slept in that room in that room had seen the same thing. Her godmother hadn't mentioned anything for fear of frightening her, which the sister confessed, would have completely freaked her out. Her godmother thought that the fact that she didn't know made her more open to the experience.
The sister's godmother lived in a hundred-odd year old house in Indianapolis. Once when she was sleeping over, she felt something tapping all along her side, like the cat was walking on her, or someone was tucking her it. She opened her eyes and peered over her shoulder at the arched doorway. She saw a woman standing there in a long white dress, like a nightgown. The woman was looking at her, kind, checking on her.
In the morning she asked her godmother if the cat had gotten out in the night. "No" she said. "Well did you check on me in the night?" No.
When she told her godmother what had happened, her godmother nodded. Then she admitted that other people who slept in that room in that room had seen the same thing. Her godmother hadn't mentioned anything for fear of frightening her, which the sister confessed, would have completely freaked her out. Her godmother thought that the fact that she didn't know made her more open to the experience.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Angelic Chandeliers
While I've heard a lot of ghost stories over the years, I cannot say that I hear that many deliberate (for lack of a better word) ghost stories.
The other day a woman, a professional Washingtonian, and her daughter joined me in the Garden District. They lived in Northern Virginia and their visit was a treat for her daughter's high school graduation.
The woman told me that when her older kids were young (before the daughter with her had been born) every time she and her husband would sit down to dinner at the dinning room table and have a conversation about religion the chandelier above them would swing. They were Catholic and it would be anything from prayer to angles, whatever. Any secular chat and the chandelier was completely still.
She also said that many nights when they were upstairs in bed, it would sound like a cocktail party was going on downstairs. It happened for a while before she mustered up the courage to ask her husband, "Is it just me, or does it sound like someone is having a cocktail party in our living room?" he paused, then said "yep."
For all the consistent activity in her house, none of it was frightening. On the contrary, she found it a comfort, not unlike being a child and knowing that you can count on your parents being downstairs if you should need them.
The other day a woman, a professional Washingtonian, and her daughter joined me in the Garden District. They lived in Northern Virginia and their visit was a treat for her daughter's high school graduation.
The woman told me that when her older kids were young (before the daughter with her had been born) every time she and her husband would sit down to dinner at the dinning room table and have a conversation about religion the chandelier above them would swing. They were Catholic and it would be anything from prayer to angles, whatever. Any secular chat and the chandelier was completely still.
She also said that many nights when they were upstairs in bed, it would sound like a cocktail party was going on downstairs. It happened for a while before she mustered up the courage to ask her husband, "Is it just me, or does it sound like someone is having a cocktail party in our living room?" he paused, then said "yep."
For all the consistent activity in her house, none of it was frightening. On the contrary, she found it a comfort, not unlike being a child and knowing that you can count on your parents being downstairs if you should need them.
Wednesday, June 27, 2012
The hallway in Meraux
A woman who'd grown up in Meraux, Louisiana, joined me the other night. She brought her son with her; she was showing him around her birthplace. If memory serves, she'd left on account of Katrina.
In one of the houses she'd lived in she had repeately seen a young woman in a white dress. The figure was young, 18-20 years old, and the white dress was long and flowing. As a young woman, she would often see this figure float down the hall.
Her mother told her she was crazy. Until one day they were sitting together in the living room and she saw the figure pass in the hallway again. She turned to her mother. "Did you see that?" Her mother nodded.
In one of the houses she'd lived in she had repeately seen a young woman in a white dress. The figure was young, 18-20 years old, and the white dress was long and flowing. As a young woman, she would often see this figure float down the hall.
Her mother told her she was crazy. Until one day they were sitting together in the living room and she saw the figure pass in the hallway again. She turned to her mother. "Did you see that?" Her mother nodded.
This is wild
A tour guest took this photo a few days ago. There is nothing but air where those two balls of light are. The post is just a post that I walk past everynight. I don't know that anything has ever happened in this location, but it is Jackson Square--anything could have happened there.
Friday, June 1, 2012
No boys allowed
Number 3
A family of four from Panama City was also on the tour tonight, but the woman has gone to college in Hays, Kansas. In school she and a friend rented a two story house next to a frat house. The story around town was that a couple bought the house in the early 20th century and both were happy there until a fraternity took over the house next door. The woman wasn't happy but the fraternity just kept growing and she wouldn't move. After her husband died she became even more unhappy, but still wouldn't leave the house.
When the woman and her roommate wanted to rent it the landlord interviewed them. He said, "I'm sorry but I have to ask you some strange questions." Then he went on to ask about how often they had young men over and did their boyfriends spend the night. The young ladies thought it was rather strange but maybe it was just that the town was very Catholic. He said that he couldn't seem to rent the house to boys; they just never lasted. The young ladies answered the questions and got the house.
The day they unpacked they arranged the kitchen, glasses above the sink, spices to the right of the stove, etc. The next morning the woman went into the kitchen and everything was in a different cabinet. "Why did you move everything?" she asked her roommate, but the roommate hadn't moved a thing. They changed everything back. Sure enough, the next morning everything had been rearranged again.
The woman had brought her family's old furniture into the house and set a rocking chair in the library surrounded by books. When she would walk down the hall, she would turn to glance in the library and the chair would be rocking all by itself.
The landlord couldn't find any women to rent the basement apartment, so he finally rented it to a few guys. Over the course of the school year, three sets of young men moved in and moved out. And every boyfriend that they ladies had over would spend the night once, and that was it. They would insist on having the girls come to their house. They guys could never explain why.
That summer the woman worked at a dairy farm. Everyday she went over and milked cows. One beautiful day she decided to leave all the windows open to air out the house. Her roommate was gone, the land lord was gone, everyone was out of town. She was the only person within miles who had a key to the house. While she was milking cows a storm blew through, no one saw it coming. She was frantic, there was no time for her to go back to the house and close all those windows she had left open. That evening she went home dreading all the mopping she would have to do, but when she arrived every window, every screen, every storm window, was closed and sealed shut.
A family of four from Panama City was also on the tour tonight, but the woman has gone to college in Hays, Kansas. In school she and a friend rented a two story house next to a frat house. The story around town was that a couple bought the house in the early 20th century and both were happy there until a fraternity took over the house next door. The woman wasn't happy but the fraternity just kept growing and she wouldn't move. After her husband died she became even more unhappy, but still wouldn't leave the house.
When the woman and her roommate wanted to rent it the landlord interviewed them. He said, "I'm sorry but I have to ask you some strange questions." Then he went on to ask about how often they had young men over and did their boyfriends spend the night. The young ladies thought it was rather strange but maybe it was just that the town was very Catholic. He said that he couldn't seem to rent the house to boys; they just never lasted. The young ladies answered the questions and got the house.
The day they unpacked they arranged the kitchen, glasses above the sink, spices to the right of the stove, etc. The next morning the woman went into the kitchen and everything was in a different cabinet. "Why did you move everything?" she asked her roommate, but the roommate hadn't moved a thing. They changed everything back. Sure enough, the next morning everything had been rearranged again.
The woman had brought her family's old furniture into the house and set a rocking chair in the library surrounded by books. When she would walk down the hall, she would turn to glance in the library and the chair would be rocking all by itself.
The landlord couldn't find any women to rent the basement apartment, so he finally rented it to a few guys. Over the course of the school year, three sets of young men moved in and moved out. And every boyfriend that they ladies had over would spend the night once, and that was it. They would insist on having the girls come to their house. They guys could never explain why.
That summer the woman worked at a dairy farm. Everyday she went over and milked cows. One beautiful day she decided to leave all the windows open to air out the house. Her roommate was gone, the land lord was gone, everyone was out of town. She was the only person within miles who had a key to the house. While she was milking cows a storm blew through, no one saw it coming. She was frantic, there was no time for her to go back to the house and close all those windows she had left open. That evening she went home dreading all the mopping she would have to do, but when she arrived every window, every screen, every storm window, was closed and sealed shut.
Neosho Underground
June 1, 2012
Number 2
A woman from Neosho, Missouri also joined me this evening. Famous as the capital of the Confederacy, for one day. Her grandmother's house had been part of the Underground Railroad, but the tunnels had long been sealed up.
Still, when the woman visited her grandmother she would hear people whispering in the basement. Just a girl at the time, it was unmistakable. Her father had heard the whispering too, when he was growing up. Sometimes when he was in the basement he would even see a person out of the corner of his eye, then he would turn and look and nothing.
Number 2
A woman from Neosho, Missouri also joined me this evening. Famous as the capital of the Confederacy, for one day. Her grandmother's house had been part of the Underground Railroad, but the tunnels had long been sealed up.
Still, when the woman visited her grandmother she would hear people whispering in the basement. Just a girl at the time, it was unmistakable. Her father had heard the whispering too, when he was growing up. Sometimes when he was in the basement he would even see a person out of the corner of his eye, then he would turn and look and nothing.
Equator Estates
June 1, 2012
Number 1
What a busy evening for ghost stories. I had a regular tour group, but they were full of great stories.
A mother and daughter joined me this evening. The mother said that while her father was growing up in Equator in the 1950s, he and some friends visited a big fancy estate in the country. The house was built in the 17th century. The estate one of many granted by the Spanish government in the 16th century. Her father and his friends were teen-agers and they were taking a tour, visiting one of these estates then bicycling to another.
One of their friends went on his own. He was on his bicycle and got lost. A man was walking ahead of him, so he cycled up to the man and asked for directions. The man gave him detailed instructions on how to get there and soon the young man arrived at the estate. His friends were waiting on him and when he arrived they all took a tour of the house. Above the mantle in the library was a beautiful painting of the man he had asked directions from on the road, right down to the clothing. The owner shook his head, no way, that was one of the old owners, dead for at least fifty years.
Number 1
What a busy evening for ghost stories. I had a regular tour group, but they were full of great stories.
A mother and daughter joined me this evening. The mother said that while her father was growing up in Equator in the 1950s, he and some friends visited a big fancy estate in the country. The house was built in the 17th century. The estate one of many granted by the Spanish government in the 16th century. Her father and his friends were teen-agers and they were taking a tour, visiting one of these estates then bicycling to another.
One of their friends went on his own. He was on his bicycle and got lost. A man was walking ahead of him, so he cycled up to the man and asked for directions. The man gave him detailed instructions on how to get there and soon the young man arrived at the estate. His friends were waiting on him and when he arrived they all took a tour of the house. Above the mantle in the library was a beautiful painting of the man he had asked directions from on the road, right down to the clothing. The owner shook his head, no way, that was one of the old owners, dead for at least fifty years.
Tuesday, May 22, 2012
The Dog
Part 1
Ghost stories from tour groups seem to come and go, but like so many other things, they seem to come in waves. A few Sundays back I had a tour group with three excellent ghost stories, and during the evening tour there were more. I will split them up into separate posts.
A young man from Austin told me that growing up he spent his summers in Fall River, Massachusetts at his grandmother's old house. He slept in a room up in her attic which was suprisingly, not too creepy. The only thing he remembered was seeing a big black dog in the corner of the room, like a Rottweiler, always watching him.
Ghost stories from tour groups seem to come and go, but like so many other things, they seem to come in waves. A few Sundays back I had a tour group with three excellent ghost stories, and during the evening tour there were more. I will split them up into separate posts.
A young man from Austin told me that growing up he spent his summers in Fall River, Massachusetts at his grandmother's old house. He slept in a room up in her attic which was suprisingly, not too creepy. The only thing he remembered was seeing a big black dog in the corner of the room, like a Rottweiler, always watching him.
Sage in the closet
Part 2
The woman who was visiting with the young man from Austin had trouble with her closet. She lived in a trailer, I believe in New York or Long Island, and she would see orbs in her closet. As far as I could tell it was during those half awake times of the day, out of the corner of your eye, not so much fully awake and head on. She didn't have any trouble anywhere else in the house. Although, she had a few pagan friends who'd seen figures in her trailer and told her to burn sage. "It didn't do anything," she told me. But she'd only done it once, no surprise it takes time and repetition to get results.
The woman who was visiting with the young man from Austin had trouble with her closet. She lived in a trailer, I believe in New York or Long Island, and she would see orbs in her closet. As far as I could tell it was during those half awake times of the day, out of the corner of your eye, not so much fully awake and head on. She didn't have any trouble anywhere else in the house. Although, she had a few pagan friends who'd seen figures in her trailer and told her to burn sage. "It didn't do anything," she told me. But she'd only done it once, no surprise it takes time and repetition to get results.
Upstate New York
Part 4
That evening...
I hear that upstate New York is lovely, driving through I must agree. One of these days I hope to stop. But on my busy Sunday a few weeks back I had a family from there, although they had a Seattle connection too. People move around so much these days.
The young man in the group, while living in a house in Upstate New York, had been at home, walking down the second floor hallway, a narrow old hallway, and suddenly he felt compelled to turn around. Behind him a man walked out of the wall, carrying an axe, looked at the kids, and continued through the opposite wall.
One of the women in the group said that when her son was young, 4 or 5, and not reading yet, they had walked through an old grave yard in Washington State. There were leaves everywhere, and the graves were really old, late nineteenth century. Her son started talking to someone, though it was just the two of them. She asked him who he was talking to and he gave her a name. Then she asked how old the boy was and her son told her. On a hunch, she moved the leaves on the grave he was standing next too. The name was the same and the dates matched the age.
That evening...
I hear that upstate New York is lovely, driving through I must agree. One of these days I hope to stop. But on my busy Sunday a few weeks back I had a family from there, although they had a Seattle connection too. People move around so much these days.
The young man in the group, while living in a house in Upstate New York, had been at home, walking down the second floor hallway, a narrow old hallway, and suddenly he felt compelled to turn around. Behind him a man walked out of the wall, carrying an axe, looked at the kids, and continued through the opposite wall.
One of the women in the group said that when her son was young, 4 or 5, and not reading yet, they had walked through an old grave yard in Washington State. There were leaves everywhere, and the graves were really old, late nineteenth century. Her son started talking to someone, though it was just the two of them. She asked him who he was talking to and he gave her a name. Then she asked how old the boy was and her son told her. On a hunch, she moved the leaves on the grave he was standing next too. The name was the same and the dates matched the age.
I'm going now
Part 3
Along with the man and his ghost dog and the woman with the crowded closet, I had a couple visiting from California. Only the man had grown up on the West Bank of New Orleans. He said that years ago his grandfather and his father were in the hospital at the same time, same hospital. His father was having surgery and under deep anesthesia when his grandfather passed away on the floor above him.
When his father woke from the anesthesia they told him the grandfather had died. He said, "I know."
When his father was under the grandfather had appeared at the foot of his bed and tweaked his toe, just like the old man had done every morning of his childhood.
"Hey, I'm going now, you want to come?" he said.
"No, I'm gonna stay here."
"Okay."
And he was gone.
Along with the man and his ghost dog and the woman with the crowded closet, I had a couple visiting from California. Only the man had grown up on the West Bank of New Orleans. He said that years ago his grandfather and his father were in the hospital at the same time, same hospital. His father was having surgery and under deep anesthesia when his grandfather passed away on the floor above him.
When his father woke from the anesthesia they told him the grandfather had died. He said, "I know."
When his father was under the grandfather had appeared at the foot of his bed and tweaked his toe, just like the old man had done every morning of his childhood.
"Hey, I'm going now, you want to come?" he said.
"No, I'm gonna stay here."
"Okay."
And he was gone.
Way Out There
(This is from April 27th)
Lower Brule is a new reservation to me. When I think of South Dakota reservations, I think of Pine Ridge and Rose Bud. But tonight a woman who lived on Lower Brule came on the tour. "There are a lot of stories out there," she said. Not a surprise, but not something I'd heard much about. Though I must confess, I feel I've met a lot more people from reservations out west then your average New Orleans guide. And then again I might be diluting myself. She didn't have any personal stories. But she did say that she worked in an alternative school out there, and she had one student who never got enough sleep. Hard to believe that she only had one student short on rest. But this girl seemed even more exhausted than her peers. The woman told her "Look, you need to get some more sleep at night." The girl closed her eyes and shook her head. "I try. Really I try. But in the middle of the night a boy comes and wakes me up. He spends all night dribbling his basketball and I can't sleep."
Lower Brule is a new reservation to me. When I think of South Dakota reservations, I think of Pine Ridge and Rose Bud. But tonight a woman who lived on Lower Brule came on the tour. "There are a lot of stories out there," she said. Not a surprise, but not something I'd heard much about. Though I must confess, I feel I've met a lot more people from reservations out west then your average New Orleans guide. And then again I might be diluting myself. She didn't have any personal stories. But she did say that she worked in an alternative school out there, and she had one student who never got enough sleep. Hard to believe that she only had one student short on rest. But this girl seemed even more exhausted than her peers. The woman told her "Look, you need to get some more sleep at night." The girl closed her eyes and shook her head. "I try. Really I try. But in the middle of the night a boy comes and wakes me up. He spends all night dribbling his basketball and I can't sleep."
My Haunted Kid
(This is from April 21th)
It is Navy week and there are a few ships docked on the river, including an amazing one from Indonesia full of beautiful teak carvings. The French Quarter is full of men and women in uniform, though I haven't had any join me on a tour: last night I had a lot of family groups with me. One was a family from Tennessee. Their son looked like he might be in the military, although he wasn't dressed for it and they never mentioned anything. His mother told me he was haunted. Wherever they went, if she snapped a picture of him there would be an orb in it. Once they'd visited Colonial Williamsburg and he said, "Mom, take a picture over my shoulder." It was dark out and he wasn't close to any buildings or light fixtures. In Colonial Williamsburg it gets really dark. Just a kid in a black hoodie in the dark, she snapped the picture.
Next to him there were three orange figures silhouetted. They looked just like kids in hoodies.
It is Navy week and there are a few ships docked on the river, including an amazing one from Indonesia full of beautiful teak carvings. The French Quarter is full of men and women in uniform, though I haven't had any join me on a tour: last night I had a lot of family groups with me. One was a family from Tennessee. Their son looked like he might be in the military, although he wasn't dressed for it and they never mentioned anything. His mother told me he was haunted. Wherever they went, if she snapped a picture of him there would be an orb in it. Once they'd visited Colonial Williamsburg and he said, "Mom, take a picture over my shoulder." It was dark out and he wasn't close to any buildings or light fixtures. In Colonial Williamsburg it gets really dark. Just a kid in a black hoodie in the dark, she snapped the picture.
Next to him there were three orange figures silhouetted. They looked just like kids in hoodies.
The pile in the attic
I am just starting to emerge from the madness of final exams and grading. The last few weeks it has been impossible to focus on posting, but I have been collecting.
A woman from Columbus Mississippi came on the tour Sunday, on a girl's weekend with a friend. She said when she was growing up she would complain to her parents about someone coming in her room at night. Her brother told their parents he prayed with a man every night. Her mother would often hear crying upstairs and come to check on them only to find them fast asleep. And other times she would here a music box, one that they did not have. I'm not sure if the hauntings were what motivated her family to move or not, but when they did pack up and leave, they found all the pieces to the children's toys, hopelessly lost for all the time they lived in the house, plied up neatly in the attic.
A woman from Columbus Mississippi came on the tour Sunday, on a girl's weekend with a friend. She said when she was growing up she would complain to her parents about someone coming in her room at night. Her brother told their parents he prayed with a man every night. Her mother would often hear crying upstairs and come to check on them only to find them fast asleep. And other times she would here a music box, one that they did not have. I'm not sure if the hauntings were what motivated her family to move or not, but when they did pack up and leave, they found all the pieces to the children's toys, hopelessly lost for all the time they lived in the house, plied up neatly in the attic.
Thursday, April 19, 2012
Salt and Swarms
A young couple from Colorado joined me this past week-end. They had brought a few relatives with them to enjoy New Orleans. The women, who looked especially young to me, said that both she and her beau worked in a golf course. There was a two story building there, visiting upstairs and golf shop downstairs. There were also offices downstairs, down dark corridors.
The used to work in the store and plenty of the time it was empty. Often they were not behind the desk, but equally often they would here footfalls on the stairs and children's laughter in the stairs and the hallways. They would hurry behind the desk only to realize the were alone in the store.
Apparently they were not the only ones who thought something was amiss in the building. One of the pros had died, had a heart-attack at his desk in a back office. By all accounts he was not a kind person. The administration decided they needed to exercise the place after his death. They called in a professional. They didn't mention if she was a priestesss, demonologist, etc. But she decided to exercise the place with sea salt. The young lady on my tour was her assistant. It is amazing was minimum wage will get a teenager to agree to. But she helped out this professional, got the sea salt and followed behind her. They circled a long drive that curved into a circle with a fountain in the middle. As soon as they sprinkled the last of the salt to complete the circle, a swarm of bees burst from beneath the fountain and chased them away.
In the months immediately following a few tragedies happened on the course. A father was struck by lightening while golfing with his son. No lightening was in the area for a twenty mile radius, just one bolt hit and killed him. Later a women was showing one of her friends how to drive and mistook her distance. When she swung the club back she hit her friend, shattering her face.
The used to work in the store and plenty of the time it was empty. Often they were not behind the desk, but equally often they would here footfalls on the stairs and children's laughter in the stairs and the hallways. They would hurry behind the desk only to realize the were alone in the store.
Apparently they were not the only ones who thought something was amiss in the building. One of the pros had died, had a heart-attack at his desk in a back office. By all accounts he was not a kind person. The administration decided they needed to exercise the place after his death. They called in a professional. They didn't mention if she was a priestesss, demonologist, etc. But she decided to exercise the place with sea salt. The young lady on my tour was her assistant. It is amazing was minimum wage will get a teenager to agree to. But she helped out this professional, got the sea salt and followed behind her. They circled a long drive that curved into a circle with a fountain in the middle. As soon as they sprinkled the last of the salt to complete the circle, a swarm of bees burst from beneath the fountain and chased them away.
In the months immediately following a few tragedies happened on the course. A father was struck by lightening while golfing with his son. No lightening was in the area for a twenty mile radius, just one bolt hit and killed him. Later a women was showing one of her friends how to drive and mistook her distance. When she swung the club back she hit her friend, shattering her face.
Monday, April 16, 2012
Pounding Riffles
I had a couple from Alabama on my tour tonight. The lady had a great story form when she lived in Tallahassee, Florida. She and her first husband had bought a house brick house, the last to be built in a cul-de-sac. A new house, they were only the second owners. It had been built on an old Seminole burial ground. She knew about the burial ground, but not the full size of it, and not that her house was sitting on it. When the first owners had moved in they had a 'game room' and they painted the FSU Seminole Indian on the wall. While doing it the man had a lung collapse. He had never had lung problems.
Who knows.
But she didn't feel alone in the house. There was one bedroom she didn't like to go in, ever. An old friend came to the house to see her every so often, but would never cross the threshold. She would just stand at the doorway and talk.
Sometimes the woman would wake up in the night to what sounded like someone pounding on the outside of her house, her brick house. Her husband insisted that if anything was going to hurt them it would have by then.
Then one night when they were asleep her husband woke up partially and saw a pitch black figure walking down the hall. It came right into their bedroom. It walked past their bed and into their walk-in closet. Her husband kept a riffle in the closet and the figure reached up and took it down. As the figure left her husband saw the shadow of the riffle, as if the figure was carrying it. Her husband leapt out of bed and went to the closet.
The riffle was there.
Who knows.
But she didn't feel alone in the house. There was one bedroom she didn't like to go in, ever. An old friend came to the house to see her every so often, but would never cross the threshold. She would just stand at the doorway and talk.
Sometimes the woman would wake up in the night to what sounded like someone pounding on the outside of her house, her brick house. Her husband insisted that if anything was going to hurt them it would have by then.
Then one night when they were asleep her husband woke up partially and saw a pitch black figure walking down the hall. It came right into their bedroom. It walked past their bed and into their walk-in closet. Her husband kept a riffle in the closet and the figure reached up and took it down. As the figure left her husband saw the shadow of the riffle, as if the figure was carrying it. Her husband leapt out of bed and went to the closet.
The riffle was there.
Little May
I had a couple from Virginia on my last week-end and they had a great camping story. They had gone tent camping at Kerr Lake in Virginia. It is a simple gravel campground and on the site is an old church and a graveyard. The church, graveyard, and campground are all encircled by a short wrought iron fence. The graves are old and sunken, mostly from the beginning of the 19th century. One is for a 9 year old girl and all that is engraved on the stone is "Little May."
Well the man said that he was lying awake one night and heard the ice chest open and close, open and close then someone walking outside their tent on the gravel. Only the footfalls never went off into the woods, he would have heard the leaves and the rustling of the trees. None of that, just footfalls on gravel. Well he leaped out of bed with his flashlight, it is freezing, he can see his breath in the tent, even though it is July in Virginia. When he goes outside and searches the campground, of course there is no one there.
The next day his whole extended family laughs at him.
The following night his wife, who never wakes in the night, pulls on his arm in the middle of the night. There is someone outside our tent, she says. He insists, not this again. But the tent is freezing. They hear footsteps come right up to their tent and stop just outside. Then they hear a little girl's voice, like she is talking to her father, only it is very faint. He takes a deep breath, grabs his flashlight and in a great woosh opens the tent.
Outside there is nothing but dark night.
Well the man said that he was lying awake one night and heard the ice chest open and close, open and close then someone walking outside their tent on the gravel. Only the footfalls never went off into the woods, he would have heard the leaves and the rustling of the trees. None of that, just footfalls on gravel. Well he leaped out of bed with his flashlight, it is freezing, he can see his breath in the tent, even though it is July in Virginia. When he goes outside and searches the campground, of course there is no one there.
The next day his whole extended family laughs at him.
The following night his wife, who never wakes in the night, pulls on his arm in the middle of the night. There is someone outside our tent, she says. He insists, not this again. But the tent is freezing. They hear footsteps come right up to their tent and stop just outside. Then they hear a little girl's voice, like she is talking to her father, only it is very faint. He takes a deep breath, grabs his flashlight and in a great woosh opens the tent.
Outside there is nothing but dark night.
Gifts?
This week-end I had a couple on my tour who were from Dallas, but used to live in California. When they were there they lived in a house and had a few strange occurrences. One night the gentlemen had an episode of sleep paralysis and saw a dark figure walking down the hall. His wife saw it, she was terrified and tried and tried to wake him. At the time she didn't realize the state he was in, she was just upset he wasn't helpful.
One year at Christmas, they had the kids' presents packed up and hidden in an upstairs closet. The kids were young, too young to sneak around looking for gifts. On Christmas Eve, the gentleman went upstairs to the closet to get the gifts. It was empty. He thought his wife had done something with the gifts, but she denied it. Years later they still have no idea what happened to them.
After I met this couple I went home and did my taxes. I think the process sucked my memory because I believe they had more stories. But I cannot remember them for the life of me.
One year at Christmas, they had the kids' presents packed up and hidden in an upstairs closet. The kids were young, too young to sneak around looking for gifts. On Christmas Eve, the gentleman went upstairs to the closet to get the gifts. It was empty. He thought his wife had done something with the gifts, but she denied it. Years later they still have no idea what happened to them.
After I met this couple I went home and did my taxes. I think the process sucked my memory because I believe they had more stories. But I cannot remember them for the life of me.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Dark Orb
(This is from Wednesday March 14th. For some reason this post has been giving me a lot of technical problems.)
I had lots of families on spring break tonight, great photos and great stories.
On of the families was in from Dallas, Texas, a family of three with a very outspoken little girl. They took a stroll through Jackson Square earlier in the day and snaped a photo of her under a tree. I don't recall ever seeing a photo anything like it. Above her, in the tree, is a dark orb.
I've seen videos where shadows move and look completely like the shadow of a livign person. But I have never seen a still photo where a shadow made that much effort to be noticed.
I had lots of families on spring break tonight, great photos and great stories.
On of the families was in from Dallas, Texas, a family of three with a very outspoken little girl. They took a stroll through Jackson Square earlier in the day and snaped a photo of her under a tree. I don't recall ever seeing a photo anything like it. Above her, in the tree, is a dark orb.
I've seen videos where shadows move and look completely like the shadow of a livign person. But I have never seen a still photo where a shadow made that much effort to be noticed.
Robo Dog
The French Quarter is teaming with spring break visitors, Final Four enthusiasts, and everyone else you can imagine. A week or so ago I had a first--a random tour group (as opposed to a private group) where everyone was from Texas.
Just this past Saturday I had a family in from El Paso and one of the women said that wherever she lived, there was a ghost. Presumably something has been following her. When her son was little lots of little things happened, toys moving and going missing, things many of us write off. But once he had a toy dog, a robot dog, that kept turning itself on. The toy was driving her nuts, so finally she took the batteries out.
The toy turned itself on without the batteries.
Just this past Saturday I had a family in from El Paso and one of the women said that wherever she lived, there was a ghost. Presumably something has been following her. When her son was little lots of little things happened, toys moving and going missing, things many of us write off. But once he had a toy dog, a robot dog, that kept turning itself on. The toy was driving her nuts, so finally she took the batteries out.
The toy turned itself on without the batteries.
Wednesday, March 14, 2012
I'm in here
Tonight I also had a mother and daughter from Mississippi on my tour. (They were outnumbered by Texans hands down.) They got an extrodinary photo at Muriel's restaurant and if they send it to me I will post it. But the mother also said they had a disembodied voice in their house.
About a year ago the mother was taking a bath, chatting with her daughter, and waiting on the grandparents to come over. Twenty minutes went by and they heard a car pull up. She told her daughter to go get the door. When her daughter went downstairs, the door was wide open, but no one was there. She stepped toward the door and heard "Tada." The sound came right at her.
Her mother told her she was imagining things.
Two weeks later the mother was alone in the house taking a shower. The shampoo was just about out, so she knocked it against the wall a few times. A voice said "come in." It was really faint, so the mother shook her head thinking, no way, I must be imagining things. But the shampoo was still stuck at the bottom of the bottle. Again she raised it to the wall, but this time she hesitated. A moment later she reluctantly knocked again. "I'm in here." This time the voice was loud.
At this point she's convinced someone is in the house with her. She drops the shampoo bottle, jumps out of the shower and throws a towel around her. A moment later she is out of the bathroom.
The house is empty.
Her daughter was glad to hear it.
About a year ago the mother was taking a bath, chatting with her daughter, and waiting on the grandparents to come over. Twenty minutes went by and they heard a car pull up. She told her daughter to go get the door. When her daughter went downstairs, the door was wide open, but no one was there. She stepped toward the door and heard "Tada." The sound came right at her.
Her mother told her she was imagining things.
Two weeks later the mother was alone in the house taking a shower. The shampoo was just about out, so she knocked it against the wall a few times. A voice said "come in." It was really faint, so the mother shook her head thinking, no way, I must be imagining things. But the shampoo was still stuck at the bottom of the bottle. Again she raised it to the wall, but this time she hesitated. A moment later she reluctantly knocked again. "I'm in here." This time the voice was loud.
At this point she's convinced someone is in the house with her. She drops the shampoo bottle, jumps out of the shower and throws a towel around her. A moment later she is out of the bathroom.
The house is empty.
Her daughter was glad to hear it.
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Got your camera?
Last night was the St. Joseph's Day parade, so hats off to all the Italian's out parading last night. I don't think our visitor's knew quite what to expect.
I had a couple from Pennsylvania last night who's stayed at Gettysburg in a very old hotel. During their visit they took a ghost tour and the guide asked about where they were staying. When they told him, he asked what floor they were one. The fifth they told him, why. Oh that is supposed to be the haunted floor, he replied. They thought that all sounded a bit too convenient, so they blew it off. Before they got into bed that night the gentleman took the battery out of the video camera and hooked it up to a charger. They both slept soundly all night. He woke up around six o'clock in the morning, to find the battery already in the camera, ready to go.
I had a couple from Pennsylvania last night who's stayed at Gettysburg in a very old hotel. During their visit they took a ghost tour and the guide asked about where they were staying. When they told him, he asked what floor they were one. The fifth they told him, why. Oh that is supposed to be the haunted floor, he replied. They thought that all sounded a bit too convenient, so they blew it off. Before they got into bed that night the gentleman took the battery out of the video camera and hooked it up to a charger. They both slept soundly all night. He woke up around six o'clock in the morning, to find the battery already in the camera, ready to go.
Pools and Airplanes
Recently I had a group from Beloit, Wisconsin on my tour. One of them owned a bar that used to be a hotel with a pool. The pool area had been filled in a turned into a dance floor, but on more than one occasion it would seem that the pool hasn't gone anywhere. When men have come to finish the floor, a process that uses no water at all, they have finished their work and begun to pack up the truck only to step back in to the building and find wet foot prints on the floor.
On a separate occasion they had a paranormal investigation team put a video camera in front of the bar. The bartender would come and go behind the bar while the camera watched. Behind the bar they had a few airplanes made out of soda cans dangling from strings. When the bartender left the room the airplanes would move back and forth. He came back the movement would stop. He turned his back to reach down into the ice chest, and the airplanes would move back and forth again. As soon as he stood up they would stop. Over and over again this happened. The bartender was never bothered; he never saw a thing.
On a separate occasion they had a paranormal investigation team put a video camera in front of the bar. The bartender would come and go behind the bar while the camera watched. Behind the bar they had a few airplanes made out of soda cans dangling from strings. When the bartender left the room the airplanes would move back and forth. He came back the movement would stop. He turned his back to reach down into the ice chest, and the airplanes would move back and forth again. As soon as he stood up they would stop. Over and over again this happened. The bartender was never bothered; he never saw a thing.
Saturday, March 3, 2012
Zombie Road
My day job has been keeping my busy, but I have been gathering stories. I had a gentlemen recently who'd been to Zombie Road in Missouri. This was the first I'd heard of the place, but apparently it's got quite a presence, enough presence to follow his family home to Texas.
He told me that ever since their visit there things have been odd and sometimes scary in his house. One day he came home to find his dinning room table upside down. One evening while he was sitting at the computer his son saw him, or a man like him, walking down the hallway. He said his son is scared a lot, and sometimes in his own bedroom. One day he took a picture of his son's bedroom door and it looks like a little boy peeking out from behind the door. His son doesn't feel comfortable at home anymore.
One evening his wife decided to take a photo of herself in the mirror. She got ready, posed, and pressed the button. At the very moment she pressed the button she saw something in the mirror. When the picture came out she saw behind her a huge black shadow, extending from the ceiling down like wings on either side of her.
He said that he hadn't had these problems before his visit to Zombie Road. He never saw a ghost in his life.
He told me that ever since their visit there things have been odd and sometimes scary in his house. One day he came home to find his dinning room table upside down. One evening while he was sitting at the computer his son saw him, or a man like him, walking down the hallway. He said his son is scared a lot, and sometimes in his own bedroom. One day he took a picture of his son's bedroom door and it looks like a little boy peeking out from behind the door. His son doesn't feel comfortable at home anymore.
One evening his wife decided to take a photo of herself in the mirror. She got ready, posed, and pressed the button. At the very moment she pressed the button she saw something in the mirror. When the picture came out she saw behind her a huge black shadow, extending from the ceiling down like wings on either side of her.
He said that he hadn't had these problems before his visit to Zombie Road. He never saw a ghost in his life.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
The Bridge
Mardi Gras has just wrapped up and things are getting back to normal, French Quarter normal. In the madness leading up to the holiday I had a few visitors share stories, but I must confess it has been a crazy few weeks, so bear with me. This is how I remember the stories, if there are any discrepancies please pardon my memory.
A week or so before Mardi Gras I had a man on my tour who was visiting with friends. He seemed a relatively quiet working man. A few years back he was working in Northern California. One evening, around dusk, he and two other men were riding from Oakland to San Francisco and they were driving over a bridge. Well, he looked across the water and noticed another bridge being built. Only the bridge was kind of grey and very thin, only maybe fours inches thick, nothing like the average thickness of a bridge. He was amazed and turned to his friend, "Hey, check out that bridge. Can you believe they can build something that thin? Wow." He friend agreed it was amazing. They asked their friend in the backseat what he thought and he glanced up briefly and mumbled in agreement.
They went to San Fransico and finished up their job. A few days later they drove back to Oakland. They crossed the same bridge and looked over to see how construction on that mysterious thin bridge was going. There was nothing there.
A week or so before Mardi Gras I had a man on my tour who was visiting with friends. He seemed a relatively quiet working man. A few years back he was working in Northern California. One evening, around dusk, he and two other men were riding from Oakland to San Francisco and they were driving over a bridge. Well, he looked across the water and noticed another bridge being built. Only the bridge was kind of grey and very thin, only maybe fours inches thick, nothing like the average thickness of a bridge. He was amazed and turned to his friend, "Hey, check out that bridge. Can you believe they can build something that thin? Wow." He friend agreed it was amazing. They asked their friend in the backseat what he thought and he glanced up briefly and mumbled in agreement.
They went to San Fransico and finished up their job. A few days later they drove back to Oakland. They crossed the same bridge and looked over to see how construction on that mysterious thin bridge was going. There was nothing there.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
Sleeping on the couch
A few weeks back I had a couple who lived outside Tyler, Texas on my tour. They told me that they used to live in town in a very haunted house. They didn't tell me much about the history other than the owner was very attached to the house and the garden, an amazing garden by all accounts.
The woman said she would always find the greenhouse door open, after she'd locked it up. Once she had seen a man floating outside her window. But they managed to live in the place for a while, dismissing the activity, until their daughter asked to leave.
One night she was asleep in her bed when someone picked her up, carried her out of the room and put her on the couch. In the morning she asked her mother why she'd moved her in the middle of the night and her mother hadn't done any such thing. The little girl told her that she didn't want to live there anymore because there were too many ghosts in the house.
The woman said she would always find the greenhouse door open, after she'd locked it up. Once she had seen a man floating outside her window. But they managed to live in the place for a while, dismissing the activity, until their daughter asked to leave.
One night she was asleep in her bed when someone picked her up, carried her out of the room and put her on the couch. In the morning she asked her mother why she'd moved her in the middle of the night and her mother hadn't done any such thing. The little girl told her that she didn't want to live there anymore because there were too many ghosts in the house.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
Peek-a-Boo
I had a couple from Louisville, Kentucky on my tour a few nights ago. They had one son and a few daughters, and their son was partial to spending the night with friends. One night the young man was at a friend's and the father was playing peek-a-boo with the girls. He sat in the bed, resting on the pillows, and they hid at the foot of the bed. Every so often they would peek out and say "boo." Well this went on for a while and the father was playing along, everyone was getting excited then a little boy peeked out from the foot of the bed and said "boo." It happened so fast and unexpected that the father didn't notice. He told his wife that he thought their son was staying with friends. Yes, she said, rolling over for a moment. He jumped to look over the foot of the bed and there wasn't anyone there.
They've seen this little boy at least three times in different parts of the house. The wife calls him "Bobby" simply because that seemed right to her. But her husband calls him "Cody" because when they moved into the house that name was written on one of the doors.
They've seen this little boy at least three times in different parts of the house. The wife calls him "Bobby" simply because that seemed right to her. But her husband calls him "Cody" because when they moved into the house that name was written on one of the doors.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
The Bank Deposit
It has been a busy few weeks, but I have been gathering stories nonetheless...
A few weeks ago I had a man on my tour with many awesome ghost stories. I'll only share one for the moment. He said that his mother died when he was nine years old. When he was a young man (he's a grandfather now) he worked at a gas station. Every night he had to deposit money in the after hours deposit box at the bank. One night he was driving there when he was overcome by this feeling that he should not go. As if someone was screaming, "Don't go to the bank!" He pulled over to the side of the road: the feeling was that strong. Well he had to go, how could he not. Finally, he got back on the road and went to the bank. He got out of the car and was on his way to the deposit box when a man jumped out of the bushes with a gun, took the money from the gas station and demanded his wallet. He told the man that he only had a dollar to his name and opened up his wallet to prove it. The robber took his dollar and ran.
Needless to say, he was convinced that it was his mother who was warning him not to go to the bank that night.
I have more ghost stories in the pipeline that I'll be posting soon as I can.
A few weeks ago I had a man on my tour with many awesome ghost stories. I'll only share one for the moment. He said that his mother died when he was nine years old. When he was a young man (he's a grandfather now) he worked at a gas station. Every night he had to deposit money in the after hours deposit box at the bank. One night he was driving there when he was overcome by this feeling that he should not go. As if someone was screaming, "Don't go to the bank!" He pulled over to the side of the road: the feeling was that strong. Well he had to go, how could he not. Finally, he got back on the road and went to the bank. He got out of the car and was on his way to the deposit box when a man jumped out of the bushes with a gun, took the money from the gas station and demanded his wallet. He told the man that he only had a dollar to his name and opened up his wallet to prove it. The robber took his dollar and ran.
Needless to say, he was convinced that it was his mother who was warning him not to go to the bank that night.
I have more ghost stories in the pipeline that I'll be posting soon as I can.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Washington's Farm House
Last night, I told some of my fellow tour guides about this blog, and, bless their hearts, they sent a story my way. This gentlemen was not on the tour last night but was considering it for later in the week. (Last night LSU played Alabama for the championship and this translates to myself and the tour group -- 6 foreign students, and 2 disinterested wives -- tiptoeing around the French quarter peering into every bar we pass to see if a fight has broken out, nothing like the double or triple digits that normally show up for a ghost tour.) Nonetheless, this gentlemen wanted to share his story with us. Really, it’s his sister’s story.
She worked for a historic house somewhere in New Jersey along the Pennsylvania line, or maybe vice versa. A farm house Washington may or may not have stayed at during the American Revolution but certainly his officers did. Every night she had to close up. She would lock the door, deadbolts, chains, bars, top bolts, bottom bolts, and ten minutes later she would go upstairs to the office and wrap up the day’s books. Well, one night she was doing this and while sitting at the desk she could see someone out of the corner of her eye, standing in the far corner of the room. Unsure, she continued her work. Finally, she knew she would have to turn and look; at the same time whatever it was realized that it had been seen. Just as she turned, the figure bolted down the stairs and she ran after it. She could hear footfalls on the stairs, but when she got to the front door it was wide open and no one was anywhere in sight.
She worked for a historic house somewhere in New Jersey along the Pennsylvania line, or maybe vice versa. A farm house Washington may or may not have stayed at during the American Revolution but certainly his officers did. Every night she had to close up. She would lock the door, deadbolts, chains, bars, top bolts, bottom bolts, and ten minutes later she would go upstairs to the office and wrap up the day’s books. Well, one night she was doing this and while sitting at the desk she could see someone out of the corner of her eye, standing in the far corner of the room. Unsure, she continued her work. Finally, she knew she would have to turn and look; at the same time whatever it was realized that it had been seen. Just as she turned, the figure bolted down the stairs and she ran after it. She could hear footfalls on the stairs, but when she got to the front door it was wide open and no one was anywhere in sight.
Monday, January 9, 2012
Inexplicable Weirdness
New Orleans is hopping this week-end, full of football fans. On Friday night I had a family of three from Lafayette, LA on my tour.They were one of the few who didn’t claim to be here for the football game, just frequent visitors.They had a son, maybe twelve or thirteen. The lady told me that a few years back she’d had a strange experience on Frenchmen. She hadn’t told her husband about it before because she wasn’t sure how to tell it, and it seemed a lot to expect someone to believe. He and I both heard her story for the first time two nights ago.
A few years back they went to Frenchmen Street to listen to music, as many people do, walking all the way down Decatur to the fire station. It was their first time. When they crossed Esplanade she felt a wave of, she couldn’t really explain, inexplicable weirdness. She didn’t say anything to her husband at the time because she felt ridiculous. They walked down the street and went into a club to listen to the band. They were probably there five minutes, but the band, the room, everything made her uncomfortable. Her husband agreed; he didn’t feel quite right either.
When they walked out on the street and there were oddly shaped people everywhere. A woman who looked like she was covering a strange growth underneath her tee-shirt came up to the lady and began talking to her, but none of the words made any sense. Everyone on the street seemed to be misshapen, elongated limbs, droopy eyes, lumpy bodies, and all of them were talking, but none of the words made any sense to her. She and her husband walked quickly back to the fire station and across Esplanade. As soon as they were off Frenchmen the atmosphere lifted, like nothing had happened.
Just a note:
Before I began doing ghost tours in the French Quarter I wouldn’t have understood what she meant by this wave of “weirdness.” But after years of night walks, I do. Some nights just have their own character, strange people lurk around corners, and everyone’s mood is off. There’s anxiety in the air. When I pick up on it, the first thing I do is look to the sky and often there is a full moon, but not always, and there are plenty of full moons that don’t seem to have this effect. I haven’t noticed many nights like this, but the few I have made quite an impression.
A few years back they went to Frenchmen Street to listen to music, as many people do, walking all the way down Decatur to the fire station. It was their first time. When they crossed Esplanade she felt a wave of, she couldn’t really explain, inexplicable weirdness. She didn’t say anything to her husband at the time because she felt ridiculous. They walked down the street and went into a club to listen to the band. They were probably there five minutes, but the band, the room, everything made her uncomfortable. Her husband agreed; he didn’t feel quite right either.
When they walked out on the street and there were oddly shaped people everywhere. A woman who looked like she was covering a strange growth underneath her tee-shirt came up to the lady and began talking to her, but none of the words made any sense. Everyone on the street seemed to be misshapen, elongated limbs, droopy eyes, lumpy bodies, and all of them were talking, but none of the words made any sense to her. She and her husband walked quickly back to the fire station and across Esplanade. As soon as they were off Frenchmen the atmosphere lifted, like nothing had happened.
Just a note:
Before I began doing ghost tours in the French Quarter I wouldn’t have understood what she meant by this wave of “weirdness.” But after years of night walks, I do. Some nights just have their own character, strange people lurk around corners, and everyone’s mood is off. There’s anxiety in the air. When I pick up on it, the first thing I do is look to the sky and often there is a full moon, but not always, and there are plenty of full moons that don’t seem to have this effect. I haven’t noticed many nights like this, but the few I have made quite an impression.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Maiden Voyage, January 6, 2012
Everyday ghost stories have been a guilty pleasure of mine
for years. In 2004 I started doing ghost tours in the French Quarter. I met a
lot of people from all over. As we chatted some shared their own ghost stories
with me. I think simply to share such a story with someone who would not think
they were crazy. Well, I’ve been collecting them over the years, and I fear I’m
becoming something of a hoarder, so I’ve started this blog to share my own
guilty pleasure with whomever is as curious as myself.
This is the story that got me started. I’m afraid it wasn’t in the French Quarter but during a Garden District ghost tour. Just as the tour was wrapping up one of the participants offered up his own ghost story. If I remember correctly he was from Ohio and in the landscaping business. His brother married a girl from China, right off the boat as it were: she knew little of America
and nothing of his family. One night she woke up and saw a man standing at the
foot of the bed. She screamed and woke his brother, made him search the house
top to bottom. No one. It must be a ghost she said, it’s a warning, be careful.
Well a few days later he was waiting at a traffic light and when the light
turned green he hesitated. A spilt second later a Mac truck blew through the
red light. He would have been killed. It got his attention, but it was still
something he could rationalize away. Well months later it was Thanksgiving, his
new wife’s fist Thanksgiving with his family, and she was meeting everyone for
the first time. His mother sat her on the couch and gave her a family album to
look through. Moments later she called to her husband, “This is him. This is
the man I saw at the foot of the bed.” She pointed to a picture of one of his
cousins, a young man who’d been killed in a car accident over four years before
his wife had arrived in America.
for years. In 2004 I started doing ghost tours in the French Quarter. I met a
lot of people from all over. As we chatted some shared their own ghost stories
with me. I think simply to share such a story with someone who would not think
they were crazy. Well, I’ve been collecting them over the years, and I fear I’m
becoming something of a hoarder, so I’ve started this blog to share my own
guilty pleasure with whomever is as curious as myself.
This is the story that got me started. I’m afraid it wasn’t in the French Quarter but during a Garden District ghost tour. Just as the tour was wrapping up one of the participants offered up his own ghost story. If I remember correctly he was from Ohio and in the landscaping business. His brother married a girl from China, right off the boat as it were: she knew little of America
and nothing of his family. One night she woke up and saw a man standing at the
foot of the bed. She screamed and woke his brother, made him search the house
top to bottom. No one. It must be a ghost she said, it’s a warning, be careful.
Well a few days later he was waiting at a traffic light and when the light
turned green he hesitated. A spilt second later a Mac truck blew through the
red light. He would have been killed. It got his attention, but it was still
something he could rationalize away. Well months later it was Thanksgiving, his
new wife’s fist Thanksgiving with his family, and she was meeting everyone for
the first time. His mother sat her on the couch and gave her a family album to
look through. Moments later she called to her husband, “This is him. This is
the man I saw at the foot of the bed.” She pointed to a picture of one of his
cousins, a young man who’d been killed in a car accident over four years before
his wife had arrived in America.
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