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Paranormal Investigator Etiquette 101

After going on several investigations and meet-ups I got to thinking, what is the proper “ghost hunter” etiquette? Or better yet, what is the proper “Maine Ghost Hunter” etiquette?

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Our .org overhaul - have you noticed?

How are you liking our complete website overhaul?

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The Dark Side of Disney

One might ask, “Why would the happiest place on earth be haunted?”. Well, in my opinion, the answer is an easy one. Why WOULDN’T one want to spend eternity in the happiest place on earth?

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October MeetUp Investigation!

Every now and again Maine Ghost Hunters offers an opportunity to investigate with our team on one of our meetup.com outings.  So far, this October, we have offered the unique investigation experience of spending time in the Mill Agent’s House in Vassalboro, Maine for an overnight investigation in October.   If you would like to join us, register on our meetup.com site and check out the details.

The Mill Agent’s House was one of the season finale featured stories on the 2010 season of A&E Bio Channel’s “My Ghost Story” which ran this past summer.  Our team has pulled some impressive evidence from this location and the owner, who has been gracious enough to allow us to bring our meetup group to his home, has piles of evidence and personal stories that have been collected over the years.

Grove Cemetery

Location: Grove Cemetery, Pleasant Hill Road

City:  Brunswick/Freeport

www.maineghosthunters.org,www.maineghosthunters.net

On Monday October 6, 2008 MaineGhostHunters Tony and Kat took a drive to a location neither had previously been to before, for a short investigation with a primary purpose of using our Ghost Box for the first time.  This is what Kat has to say about the day’s events.

The drive to this particular location was somewhat unplanned. I knew about this cemetery because I had been by it before, but I hadn’t actually gone inside it or anything, so while I knew it was there, it was still virgin ground for us as investigators.  Our reason for being out that day, at this cemetery in particular, was to test out our new ghost box.  Tony had modified the Radio Shack am/fm model 20-125 a while back and we hadn’t gotten around to using it yet so we wanted to take it to a location away from our house where spirit activity might be prevalent.

Now, I’m a firm believer that spirits don’t stick solely with their physical bodies once they pass one from this life, but I also believe that we, as people, know our loved ones visit graves from time to time to pay homage to those people who may have affected our lives in some way or another.   If we know they they’re probably going to be visiting where we’re buried, and we know we can’t make contact with them at other “normal” locations they’d be at, like in their homes or in their cars, or what have you, then what other place would make sense to try and make contact?   At least at a graveyard they’re more likely to be wanting to make contact, why else would they go to a place to visit someone who’s been deceased for however-long?  People go to burial grounds for a few reasons; to make peace, to show respect, to pay homage, to grieve, and sometimes, to receive some sort of sign from the other side. 

www.maineghosthunters.net,www.maineghosthunters.orgSo anyway, we made our way into the cemetery, and I have to tell you, it was really not at all a creepy place.  The cemetery is wide open, bright and airy, and there’s even a couple of new glossy stone benches to sit on.   There are some fantastic monuments to be seen in this cemetery, and the overall area is pretty expansive.   There are old burials as well as new ones throughout the grounds, so you really get a strong mix of time-periods, and in some cases you get a strong sense of family because there’s quite a few generations of similar names and heritage lines buried in close proximity to each other.

When we started our ghost box session we decided to ask for the older generation to step forward.   We had never really done this before so we weren’t entirely sure what we should be doing or how we should be going about it.  After we asked the older generation to communicate with us it seemed we were getting “possible” responses from the box, but being realists we also admitted that those sounds and words coming from box could be just as much “random” as “purposeful”, so we let them go.  We considered our ghost box session up to this point to be uneventful and unsuccessful. 

It was after this failed attempt at making contact with the older, wiser, crowd that we asked them to step back and we appealed to the lesser number of deceased population in the cemetery (at least we hoped that was the case).  We asked the younger crowd to step forward, anyone under the age of 20 was invited to make contact with us.  Here’s how it went:

GB:  Five  (5)

Tony: It just said 5?
Kat: 5? Under the age of 20?

Tony: can you tell us what your name is? your first name?

GB:  TIMMY

Kat: Timmy, did you hear that?

GB: Matt
Kat: Matt?

Tony: Judy

Kat: [Heard it]

GB: 3 of them

Kat: It just said 3 of’em, and then … then it just said Three of’em.

One of the more significant events we experienced while at this cemetery and while using this ghost box is that we continued asking questions about the kids, and learned that “Timmy” (as  www.maineghosthunters.net,www.maineghosthunters.org heard in the above session) was 14/15 years old when he died and no matter where we looked we couldn’t find a “Timmy” anywhere on the grounds.  We chalked this up to a sort of failure, and a learning experience for future sessions, letting this be a reminder that we need to be careful of what we really are hearing and what we’re really not hearing.

Later on in the ghost box session we had received messages from the device which led us to believe we should be looking for something “red” beside one of the headstones.  There was nothing “red” within site so, always within site of Tony, I set off on a solo jaunt through the cemetery to see what I could find.  While I was walking the grounds Tony was holding the ghost box and began to communicate with it.   When I returned I noticed he was walking around in the center of the cemetery while holding the ghost box out in front of him so he could clearly hear what was being said from it.  He told me the ghost box had told him to look for “Curtis” in the “middle” of the cemetery.  Apparently, “Curtis” was a name that was said repeatedly and Tony couldn’t deny it any more, so he went searching for a headstone by that name.  He hadn’t yet found it when I arrived, so when he told me what he was looking for and how he came to understand where to look for it, I took the direction as well.

From our perception, the box was giving us directions on where to walk.  “Middle”, “back up”, “look”, etc… by the time we were finished we were standing among a family plot area with a large number of “Curtis” headstones.  It was a strange experience and from a skeptical point of view, I suppose it could have been one that started with a subconscious noticing of the headstones as we walked into the cemetery.  It’s a stretch, but I suppose it’s almost as reasonable as thinking a radio could throw out random words and lead us to a cluster of “Curtis” headstones.    At this point, I didn’t know what to think.

During another section of this ghost box session Tony had told me, a couple of times, that he kept hearing the word “Frank”.   He was sure we should be paying attention to this name but it wasn&
#039;t enough to find A Frank, he needed a last name to put the “questionable” nature of this “random shot in the dark” possibility, to rest.  Here’s how this portion of the session went down.

Looking for Frank

Tony:  Ok, I’m gonna ask again.  Can you tell me the first name

GB: Say What
Kat: Say What?
GB: I’ll Keep talking

Tony:  Can you give me the first name of the spirit I am looking for?

GB: [not clear in this recorded audio session]

Tony: did that say Frank?
Kat: Did it say Frank?  Again?

GB: Frank
Tony: You need to make it very clear

GB: Daniel

Tony: Danielle
Kat: Okay. Whe- Daniel? or Danielle?
Tony: Danielle

Tony:  Can you tell me the last name now?

Kat: 3 of’em?

Tony: You need to say the last name very clear.

GB: Byrom
Kat: -
Tony: Byrom

Kat: Oh my god, I’m gonna start to freak out if that was – that was sooo. What was the name?
Tony: Maybe it was Isaac we heard instead of Frank

[we're walking toward the Byrom headstone, looking at all names of headstones that are in the immediate vicinity. we meet up on the left side-edge of the Byrom headstone just as Tony finishes saying "maybe it was isaac we heard instead of Frank"]

Kat: That’s Frank Byrom
Tony: Oh my god.  1957, and his wife Mary, we heard Mary over there.

I find that particular sound file to be a little challenging, but the information is there, and hopefully you can understand what’s being said in it.   We weren’t planning on doing anything with the audio file, in terms of the ghost box session, so we didn’t record for the purposes of replaying the session later.  We were mainly recording for EVP’s and admittedly, some of the lower toned sounds and words spoken from the radio are a little difficult to hear.

At one point during our time in the cemetery Tony decided he needed to hunt down a name the ghost box had said.  Since I had already gone on a solo jaunt through the grounds I decided to let him take this one himself, which left me standing alone with the ghost box in my hand.  In a laissez faire sort of way I asked the ghost box to say my name, and this is what transpired.

“Can you say my name?”

Kat: Can you say my name? My name’s Kathy, can you say it?
GB: Kat

Kat: Thank you…tha-that’s….that made-that’s great
GB: And Michael

Kat: What? What did – wh- …

I have a brother named Michael.   As you might be able to tell, I was a little thrown aback by the fact that my brother’s name was said.  In fact, when I heard it, I was genuinely speechless, and like I’ve said before, that rarely ever happens. 

After the “Frank” & “and Michael” incidents happened, our time there was quite limited – by choice.   We were getting pretty anxious to head out of the grounds and to put this box away for another time.  A time when we could really come to terms with what did, or what did not happen there in that cemetery on this day.   Did we really hear what we thought we did?  Did the ghost box send us to the “Curtis” memorials?  Did it tell us to look for “Frank… Byrom”. Afterall, when it said the name “Byrom” I was certain it was saying the name “Byron”.  Byron is n’t a common name, but it is a name.  And while I was trying to bring some sort of order to all that was running through my mind about how we could justify that what we thought was happening, wasn’t happening at all, I had to be honest and admit that “Byrom” is extremely www.maineghosthunters.net,www.maineghosthunters.org close to the name “Byron”, especially when you hear it on a radio, outdoors, and have never heard the name “Byrom” before.  You’re far more likely to translate a word you haven’t heard before, into a word you are more comfortable with hearing.  Hence, the reason “Byrom” was heard (or even said) as “Byron”.

We were discussing all of this, and much more, as we made our way back to the car and came upon a large family monument with the name “James” Small on it.  The man had lived into his 80′s or 90′s and had a grandson who was also named “James” who had lived only to the age of 14 or 15  (we didn’t actually take note of the months of birth/death, so we aren’t sure if he was 14 or 15 when he died).  And on the younger James’ small square individual grave marker was written … “JIMMY”, which brought us back to the very start of our ghost box session when we reached a boy by the name of “Timmy”.   On our way out of the cemetery we had heard the name “James” a couple of times, which is the name of a dear and close relative of ours, so we weren’t sure what to do with the information.   In this very same sequence we had heard the words “Oh – Seven”.  Young Jimmy Small lived to the year of 1907 and died a young boy under the age of 20. 

Our final conversation with the ghost box ended like this:

Tony:  This is where you need to stay, this is where you were buried after you died.

GB:   We’re Buried?  or You’re Buried?

Kathy:  ?What?

Tony:   We’re Buried?

Kathy:  Oh my gawd Tony… I’m sorry but yes, you are, you’re buried.

GB:  Moved On?

Kathy:  Moved On?  Did it just say “Moved On”?

GB :  (faintly) Make it stop.

Kathy:  Make it stop?

GB:  Save(d) Us.

Tony:  This is graveyard, this is where people are buried when they’ve died.

GB: (faintly male voice) SO cold

Kathy:  So Cold?  Did you hear that?

Tony:  Uh huhh.  You need to move on, you shouldn’t stay here if you don’t like it here.

GB:  (Female voice) We need your HELP

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Spider Gates - Leicester, Massachusetts

Location:  Spider Gates Cemetery
City:  Leicester, Massachusetts

This was one of those investigations that reminds me of how awesome it is to be a member of Maine Ghost Hunters. On this particular investigation day, I have to tell ya, “I’m lovin’ life”.  We left Maine somewhere around 8:00 in the morning and made a leisurely commute to the great state of Massachusetts where the much-rumored-about “8th gate to hell” resides. Tucked in the back woods of a somewhat remote area, surrounded by brush, trees, and fields of farmland lay the prize; Spider Gates Cemetery.

Spider Gates Cemetery is one of those graveyards who’s reputation precedes it.  It’s sad, really, when I think about it, because at the root of all the stories lay the relative of someone who’s ears these rumors may meet.  It’s my perception that people forget that they’re talking about someone’s mother, father, brother, uncle, cousin, or otherwise, when they tell these stories of evil that take place within cemeteries such as Spider Gates.  I’ll tell ya, when made the trip to the Friend’s Meetinghouse Cemetery in Leicester, Massachusetts I was wholly preparing myself for a downright menacing experience.  I had heard of ooze emerging from the ground, apparitions of small children, a “hanging tree” which sometimes reveals the reason it bares the name, satanic rituals and cults, and the manifestations those satanic rituals produce.

What I found when we finally arrived at the entrance to Spider Gates Cemetery was a beautiful, serene atmosphere who’s grounds are impeccably neat, clean, and obviously cared for by people who are wholly vested in honoring those interred persons at rest here.  I can’t tell you how wonderful the area looked and felt.  It was simply breathtaking.  It makes me want to give a scowling look of disapproval to people who pass such awful rumors about this location.   The grounds are absolutely stunning.  The stone wall that encompasses the outer perimeter of the cemetery has been neatly hand made by stacking rock upon rock, stone upon stone, and each one appears to be laid in place and held there by gravity and the weight of those stones above.  There is no cement holding this wall together.  It is meticulously maintained and rarely did we observe a stone out of place.

The headstones aren’t nearly as ornate as those stones in Puritan based cemeteries I’ve written about in the past, but they do depict a burial period that transcends the past couple of centuries.  The rumor that this burial ground is no longer used is a flat out lie.  We observed that a person was buried here as recently as this past year, 2008.  The headstones themselves may be simple, lacking much more than simple epitaphs, names, and dates of birth and death, but their simplicity exudes a certain level of beauty that is entirely communal. It’s as though the message you receive in this place is that these people lived as a community and they rest in peace, for eternity, as a community.  We have been to a few cemeteries in the past, and none have felt as warm and inviting as Spider Gates.

We were able to take a walk around the grounds and check out the different rumored sites of interest.  For instance, the “altar” location in the center of the cemetery.  It is said that Satanic Rituals may be performed here on a regular basis by visiting Satanists, which is why the area appears to be cordoned off in some purposeful way.  That “purposeful way” , according to rumor, is supposedly designed by the Satanists. The more historically accurate version of this “altar” area is that it’s almost certainly the footprint of the original Friends Meeting House foundation.  I was overtaken with the sheer beauty of the trees that grace the center of this beautiful cemetery and was somewhat affronted by the notion that anyone could consider this place to be any level of “evil”.

We ventured toward one of the back walls of the cemetery where we noticed some upright-standing granite blocks averaging a height of roughly 3 to 4 feet tall.  TonyL thought this area could have been considered the “altar” area, or an “altar” area as well, but we were at a loss for an ultimate conclusion as for what this was more likely used for.  We took notes of “the hanging tree”, and the “note” we took was that the limb used for the hanging is quite a distance off the ground.  The breadth of the tree would make it very unlikely that anyone who hung themselves from it “shimmied” their way to the limb.  Basically speaking, you’d have to really, really, want to hang yourself from this particular tree in order to get the job done, because the effort you’d have to go through to actually do it, is quite an involved process.  I’m not saying a young boy didn’t hang himself from this tree, I’m just saying he had to be exceptionally tall, incredibly talented at climbing the, virtually, un-climbable – or both.  We didn’t see any apparitions of ghostly children while visiting Spider Gates, but we did hear sounds that sounded like eerie children for a brief second.  Turned out to be high pitched birding vocals.  I’ll admit, it took me by surprise for a brief second, but once the sounds were identified as birds, and were repeated often throughout the rest of our time on the Quaker grounds, all was fine.

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The apparitions we had read about that appear in this area were basically a little girl, a little boy, and a slightly pre-teen or early teen boy.  There’s an awful story, that dates a few decades back, of a 6 year old boy from a nearby boy’s home that was beaten to death by one of the older teen-boy’s from the home.  His body was dragged through the woods and stuffed into a culvert.  The story is heartbreaking and the location of the culvert, which we found, intensified the grisly nature of the crime, start to finish.   The culvert was so small in its initial opening that it’s hard to imagine the condition the boy’s body was in if he was, indeed, stuffed into this culvert as we saw it.   As TJ explained, the culvert’s initial opening is small, but it “opens up” when you look farther inside.  It’s a dark hole under a less-than-busy dirt road.  I’m doubting many people, if any at all, traveled this route on a regular basis.

We took notice of the beautiful Kettle Brook, at a few different points, as well as the gloomy and buggy swamp areas that lay beyond the burial ground.  It’s important to note that there are 2 swampy areas, only 1 of which claims the paranormal activity.  Spider Gates Cemetery, itself, is not the location much of the paranormal activity in this area is reported.  It’s at the bottom of the hill near the swampy area that is a brief walk past the Spider Gates Cemetery.

Now, as for the term “the 8th gate to hell” or Spider Gates Cemetery contains “8 gates to hell”, both are preposterous accusations.  The cemetery itself has only 1 official entrance and that entrance is enclosed by 3 gates, each of which contain a wrought iron decoration in the center which resemble what many have compared to “the sun’s rays” or “a spider web”.    It is a fact that at least one of the gates is a reproduction since the original was stolen, and it is also a fact that that 1 gate does not “equal” 8.  I have read many variations of the “8 gates”, my favorite tall-tale version being the one where “the close you get to the 8th, and last gate…” the more apt you are to pass out.  And that people have not only passed out when approaching the 8th gate, but there are people who have suffered heart attacks upon reaching the 8th gate, and there has also been the occasional death-upon-reaching-the-8th-gate.  The short of it is, it’s all pretty insulting to the community of Quakers this place exists to serve, and to those community members buried within.  I was a little warmed by the notion that the official position of the Quakers, concerning these rumors about their cemetery, is that they find it all very humorous.

All-in-All the trip to Spider Gates was definitely a wonderful experience.  On the way out of the cemetery, as we were wrapping things up and approaching our car, 6 more people in 3 different and unrelated cars, were making their way to parking their various vehicles so they could get a good look, and personally experience Spider Gates for themselves.  We were even fortunate enough to meet people who had heard of us from our internet site.  What a treat that was!  If you’re out there and you’re reading this, thanks for complimenting our site!  We were tickled pink, to say the least!  Join our forum, let’s chat!

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Reincarnated Children

Today's topic is Children who claim to have been reincarnated.  If there's one thing that bothers me, on a personal level, it's the thought of children being trapped "in spirit" within this physical plane.  If there's one thing that truly intrigues me, it's those stories of children who claim to have been reincarnated, and that they remember their past lives.  The mere thought of it sends chills down my back while simultaneously sparking an entirely new level of interest and curiosity.  I remember spending a short period of time in the bookstore not too long ago, and becoming so entranced by this random book I happened to pull off the shelf that I actually read through, almost the entire thing, before we left the store.  It was fascinating and I highly recommend it.  It's called Children's Past Lives and it's written by past life therapist Carol Bowman, a specialist in her field.  The book is filled with anecdotes of children who remember, in detail, their lives before they were born into their present one.

Sometimes I wonder if everyone has this natural curiosity, as I do, about kids who claim to have memories of a past life.  It wasn't too long ago that the thought of reincarnation was considered blasphemy, and still today, by Roman Catholic standards it's considered some degree of sacrilege.  The whole concept of "life after death" challenges the modern standard of "science" as the ruling faction of thought and thinking.  It's hard to believe that we are taught, and we continue to teach, that the Dark Ages were so far away.  That the intellectual problems of the past are not the intellectual problems of our present.  Society, as a whole, embraced the Renaissance with open arms and condemned the age of darkness as oppressive and a hindrance to intellectual progression yet, metaphorically speaking, by "tomorrow's" standards we very well may be existing in the same manner of "darkness"  in today's day and age.  Maybe these children are remembering past lives in ways we can't explain, not just because they have the ability to do so, but because they are proving to us that we are, as human physical beings, are evolving into spiritual creatures with a grasp of life as it exists in a different dimension… a different time… a different space.  The whole concept of science, as we know it right now, is being challenged by 4 year olds all over the world.

World society watched thousands, possibly tens of thousands, and maybe hundreds of thousands of people through

time, die because they fought for science to outweigh the importance of religious faith.  And today, we watch as a strikingly similar template is being followed by thousands of people worldwide, maybe more.  Children, the most innocent of all people simply because they are ignorant and innocent at the same time.  They have no agenda, they have no knowledge or ability to gain such knowledge of spirits they may have contacted, or have had encounters with; or of the historical accuracies of the events, timelines, occurrences, or physical objects they claim to have had experiences with in their "past life", and yet they spill parts of "their" past-life stories with color and flare as though they just had these experiences yesterday.  They long for parents and siblings they've never met in this life, and in certain cases, it's been proven that those relatives are still alive.  I remember reading one particular care where a boy actually brought a present-day relative to the home of his past-life, and when he explained himself to the residents at this home – who he was in a past life, and what happened to himself, and how he remembered many of the people who were there to hear what he had to say – he was freakishly "right on".  This child wasn't even 7 years old yet.

The pattern of today's "shift" away from hard-core science, and rigid ritualistic religions is as much a sign of the times as The Crusades and the Spanish Inquisition were to the centuries before us.  We like to consider ourselves a tad less barbaric than we were back then, and this may be true, but by "tomorrow's" standards, who knows what the truth may really turn out to be?  Perhaps 1,000 years from now we'll consider that torturing the soul and a person's faith is far more painful than inflicting physical discomfort, or causing physical death.  We may be in the midst of watching a slow, but steady, transition into a more spiritual existence taking place.  Maybe it's because we're reaching into ourselves, or maybe it's
because we're understanding and grasping the reality that the spiritual realm has been reaching out to us for longer than we were willing to allow ourselves, and each other, to accept, or believe.  And these kids… these reincarnated kids, who throw us into a Buddhist sort of existence, for just a moment if we let them, make us realize that it's not a cliche to say "anything is possible".  Anything is possible, and some things step beyond "possible" and make us feel we need to have the confidence that they're actually "probable".  

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The Skeptic Eye

If there's one thing I've learned through my years of studying the topic of "the paranormal", it's this; you have your believers, and you have your non-believers.  Your typical non-believer, or "skeptic", carries with him/her the uncanny ability to rationalize, normalize, or otherwise "realize" events which may not have an initial, or obvious, explanation.  The typical "believer" is more likely to "reason" that "anything is possible" and if they can't find an explanation for what's happening, then it could quite possibly be "paranormal" in origin.  There are extreme varieties of both categories and your fanatics come in all flavors.  We see people who will never be convinced of anything paranormal, and we see people who believe a grand majority of "the unexplained" can be reasoned as "paranormal" with little more than a 2nd look into an occurrence which lacks an immediate logical basis.  I've had personal experiences with both types of personalities, as I'm sure is the case with many of you.  As paranormal researchers we find ourselves in a position to represent our chosen field(s) of study.  Are we doing this to convert the skeptic?  Are we doing this to hush the believer?  Are we doing this for ourselves and our own curiosities?  Do we find ourselves in a position of being held to a higher standard than thrill seekers and overnight ghost hunting groups?  It's a challenge to our sense of why we do what we do, to ask this question of ourselves, honestly.   "Why?"

Here's a picture that was taken of 2 Maine Ghost Hunters during an investigation in early 2008.  At first glance, it's a fascinating sight to see.  A "light rod" either originating, or ending, into the mid-section of current Maine Ghost Hunter TonyL.  Amazing, isn't it?   The home we were investigating at the time was a hotbed of activity.  We'd heard many stories of strange and unexplainable incidents from the residents, and during our investigation each of us had personal paranormal experiences that, while not harmful, were difficult to pass off as bad wiring, or drafty windows.  Surely, those reasons alone were enough to give this fantastic picture a more solid base for us to view as our best piece of evidence yet!  I believe, in a moment of excitement, we might actually have been able to use the word "jackpot" when considering what we'd come across with this magnificent light-rod specimen.  Hoo-Rah!  Am I right?  

Let's take a second look at this picture, shall we?  I found the photo, personally, stunning.  It was shocking to me on a

few levels, the most impressive being that the home itself felt very thick with some sort of energy; "be it" true electrical energy due to poor, or old, wiring, or due to some other paranormal source.  I'll be honest and say that it wasn't exactly an "inviting" environment to investigate.  The people were great, but I perceived the environment to be dismal and oppressive, and I'd been to this home (ironically, having nothing to do with this particular ghost investigation, and having not known this home was haunted when I had previously visited) on a few different occasions.  For me, the word "foreboding" could best describe the outside appearance of this home.  Given that unshakeable "feeling" of how this house presented itself to me, I was less than thrilled to see this "light rod" entering, or exiting, investigator TonyL.  Another, more concrete, reason I was less-than-thrilled was the fact that I had been physically touched (lightly grabbed) by an unseen force during my time inside the home.  The incident was chalked up as "par for the course", and isn't something I'm necessarily afraid of, per se.  But a force strong enough to physically wrap it's "hand" around a person's arm or leg, and squeeze, is a force not to be taken lightly.  The "light rod", under these circumstances, while still fascinating, could also be understood as a type of threat, given its direction appears to be either entering, or exiting, the investigator.   I've seen light rods in pictures from other investigators on the internet and a grand majority of them appear orange, and as squiggle marks smearing across the photo, not entering, exiting, or otherwise appearing to be targeting the people in the pictures.

So what did I do with this picture?  Well, at first, I admired it for all it's paranormal awe and wonder.  That lasted a few days, until I came across an EVP that raised my eyebrows (let's just say it sounded… less than pleasant).  After editing, reviewing, and reviewing the EVP some more, I developed an understanding that the voice(s) I was hearing – no matter how I tried to rationalize it – weren't sounding "friendly".  So I took the picture and I started asking around for advice and expert opinions.  To my chagrin, what I was looking for was quite difficult to find.  I'll follow that up with a statement that "opinions", on the internet, are not at all hard to find.   Lots of people think they're experts, and yet, the only as-close-to-experts I actually had the pleasure of dealing with were the first people to admit to me that they weren't, "experts", at all.  The information these people gave me about their knowledge of cameras, shutter speeds, lighting conditions, EXIF, stability issues, etc… was downright amazing.  The skeptics, on the other hand, presented themselves so brashly and rudely that I could hardly believe what I was experiencing.  Thank goodn
ess I received private e-mails from people who had also been targeted by these same skeptics, letting me know the heavy dose of skepticism I was seeing was not the general consensus of the forum(s) itself.  The problem with the skepticism we were witnessing, and trying to discuss through, was that the skeptics were extremists.  It seemed I couldn't explain myself thoroughly enough for their understanding.   I wasn't looking to prove the photograph authentically paranormal, I was looking for information on how to decipher what was written within the photograph itself.  No matter how I presented that question, I was bombarded with accusations of (1) creating a hoax (2) doctoring the photograph with Adobe Photoshop (3) removing the EXIF information manually so the authenticity could not be proven, and the list continued on from there.  I even had 1 person send the photo to a "friend" who specializes in scrutinizing doctored photographs, who told me he could "prove" I was presenting a hoax because of pixelation issues within the photograph itself.  He went on to explain that the lighting patterns and the pixelation do not occur, naturally, as I had presented in this photograph.  My reply was that I didn't doctor the picture, so that left only 2 options.  The first was that photograph is, indeed, of a paranormal light source.  The 2nd was that his "friend" didn't know what he was talking about.  And I voluntarily opened myself up to accepting one of those 2 choices from this not-so-nice skeptic.

One of the other, most impressive, responses I received was from a paranormal researcher who had experience with different camera types and lighting conditions.   He reviewed all of my EXIF data, thoroughly and with an open mind.  He asked me pertinent questions, such as; time of day, lighting conditions, weather conditions, moisture levels, time of year, etc… He made astute observations of the shutter speeds and stability issues related to the camera itself, which allowed me to come to the conclusion that this was most likely nothing more than an extended light streak from an LED light source.  Incidentally, all investigators on-scene were certain there was no light source present during the investigation, however, we were wrapping it up and heading home when this picture was taken.  It is very possible, and quite probable, that investigator TonyL had turned on his cell phone, which caused the resulting light streak.  

The point of this blog is multi-fold.  First, it's aimed at addressing the concept of having an "open mind".  When investigators are in a particular environment "investigating", it can be very easy to perceive, even the slightest of odd incidents, to be paranormal.  An open mind is something that helps the client as much as the investigative team because in the end, hopefully, both parties are seeking the same end – knowledge through truth.  The 2nd point is aimed at the belief structure of the individual, be they an investigator or not, and how that belief system is presented to someone with opposite or opposing viewpoints.  An exchange of knowledge is how we become enlightened on subjects of shared interest. Reciprocal respect is not something we should take lightly, and will hopefully be that one thing we have in common when we can't agree on anything else.

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Why We "Hunt"

Waverly Hills Sanatorium.  I have to tell ya, I can't wait until we make a trip there; there, and to the Eastern State Penitentiary.  I ran across this Waverly Hills website, not too long ago, where Tom Halstead of the Missouri Paranormal Research group posted quite a few incredibly disturbing spirit photos.  Full bodied apparitions in a few cases, and I'll post those here for you to catch a quick glimpse of.

The topic of "haunted places" these days seems to be more of something people talk about when they're looking for a "rush" or a "scare" than they are of places of wonder and curiosity of the human condition.   There was a time in this country, and all around the world, when people considered a haunted environment to be a friendly one.  Where spirits of past relatives came back to such places as old family homes – homes that stayed in a family for generations – to "check on" still-living relatives.  Rarely were there cases of demon possessions or evil hauntings reported, but, with the rise of modern media came the rise of modern "hauntings".  Perhaps they were always there, the demon possessions and evil spirits, and were poorly reported, or perhaps they're simply more prevalent now because, either, media sources have allowed us to become knowledgable of them, or because there are more "beings" presently in spirit form than there ever were before… who knows what the real reasons could be?

When I look at a place like Waverly Hills, or the Eastern State Penitentiary, or a more local environment such as the

Pinelands facility in Maine, I think of the people who were condemned to live their last days on earth in such deplorable conditions that their spiritual well-being never fully recovered.  People who lived a misunderstood life and who died, often times, forgotten.  I remember investigating the cemetery out at Pineland (in Maine) and feeling such a sense of grief and depression for those unnamed, forgotten souls who's only mark made in this world was the one left behind with their anonymous "number" carved on their gravestones.  They lived anonymously, died alone, and seem to exist in a  perpetual state of solitary state of irresolution.   I think that's the human connection thrill seekers lack when they walk into the space of a haunted environment looking for that perfect picture or that perfect EVP.   The thrill of the hunt supercedes the displacement of energies, which we cause as physical beings, when we put ourselves into the space of a restless soul.  We forget how to be human because we forget, lose touch, or have lost touch, with why it is we do what we do – "ghost hunt".  Is it to make a connection with the spirit world?  Or is it just to prove that spirits exist.  Because one of those options shows respect before personal satisfaction, where the other is just self-centered.

Waverly Hills represents a dying ground of immense proportion.  There's no other way to describe it.  No matter how protective the medical staff was, no matter how desperate the situation became, no matter how badly they wanted to succeed, it just wasn't meant to be at the time.  People who weren't ready to die, died miserable, long, drawn out deaths which probably resulted from a slow suffocation they could feel invading their airway(s) for … who knows how long.  Good people, strong people, kids, adults, teens, rich, poor, innocent and guilty… they all died in the same place and in a similar way.   So many, in such large numbers, that no matter what their contribution to society was, they were still a number among numbers.  Good people who'd lived Godly lives, who put family above self, watched as their livelyhood – their mothers, fathers, sons and daughters – died before their eyes, before they, themselves, passed from this world scared, alone, and probably a little ticked-off at the unfairness of the whole experience.

Yet when we think of Waverly Hills Sanatorium today we're more likely to think of TAPS and the gang "going back to Waverly", or of reality shows like "World's Scariest Places" and the rush we get when we see people walking around the place in the dead of night.   Who do we ever see walking into a spirit's "space", a space they've either chosen to walk for … eternity… or a place they've been condemned to for reasons we cannot explain, and cannot remedy for them?  Who?  As Ghost Hunters we're not looking for inanimate objects with no consciousness, we're looking for
proof of spiritual life, life-after-death, and in order to do this we must accept the possibility that if, and when, we run into something spiritual in nature, it's roots are deep within the consciousness of the human experience.  In other worse, "that's a person without a body".  The spirit isn't a thing, it's energy, it's emotion, it's all of those intangible things that make us human.   Why this is so easy for some of us Ghost Hunters to forget, is beyond me, personally.

And the Eastern State Penitentiary?  Sheesh, I didn't even want to start in on this place, but I'm here now so I might as

well do it up.  The Eastern State Penn was designed in good faith with a solid plan for psychological rehabilitation.  The model was extremely progressive.  Basically, the plan was to build a very large institution with extra thick (2+ feet) concrete walls in a strong effort to recreate the conditions of a super-quiet monastery.  This way, the criminals interred there could spend their rehabilitative time focusing on their future successes as responsible and respectful members of society.  The entire facility, from its building design to its daily breakdown of structured, rigid routines of exercise times and meal times, was focused on that 1 goal of maintaining a meditative silence which would last 24 hours a day, 7 days a week.  Prisoners were not allowed to communicate with each other, or the guards and any attempt at doing so was cause for strict and immediate disciplinary action.   The consequences would start with removing the prisoner's only source of light, "the window to God" which was located in the concrete ceiling.  This "window" was the only window in the prisoner's rooms, and the only thing keeping them out of complete and total darkness.  If removing this light did not work, then the physical torture began.  The torture was "by the books", not something the guards or warden made up on the spot, so it was methodical by design and follow through, which meant that all prisoners were subject to similar disciplinary standards, but that didn't make it any less tragic or traumatic.  

People, by nature, are social creatures.  To deny social creatures the inability to socialize is to deny them the right to be human.  It is also a means of torture the likes of  "no other" because verbal self expression of personal unhappiness falls on deaf ears.  There's nothing more tragic for people, or a person, than the feeling of "loneliness"; of being alone in a struggle in life or -  as we experience in our paranormal investigations – in death.  A person who truly doesn't care about the human experience of others, or of themselves, isn't just a criminal, they are a sociopath.  The criminals at the Eastern State Penitentiary may have done "bad" things, they may have done evil things in life, but if there was one thing many of them did not lack, it was a "will" to have that all important human connection.  If they didn't care about it, many of them wouldn't still be there today.  Whether they're searching for personal resolution, acceptance, or forgiveness… whether they're just looking to be recognized, or looking for a way to take care of unfinished business, the one thing most of them have in common is that they're looking for that "connection".  They're still looking for that "human connection", that "social connection".   You know a place has to be representative of abhorrent conditions when Charles Dickens, the author of some of the most bleak and depressing novels to hit bookshelves world-wide, tours it and subsequently chastises it as a place so deplorable he never wants to hear its name again.  That's the Eastern State Penitentiary; it's a good place gone bad.  Gone very, very bad.

I guess this posting is really about keeping that in mind.  That we ghost hunt, not primarily for ourselves and not primarily for the evidence or the data or the "look what I found!" factor.  We do it because we long to make that "connection".  We want the rewards that come with the struggle to find that connection, yes;  but what we really want is validation that when we reach out, we're reaching out "to" someone.  That the someone we're reaching out to is more than a concept, they're real, and they're wanting to reach back and communicate with us, in return.  If we didn't do it for those reasons we'd be better off chasing Bigfoot or hunting down UFO's because those "things" have been deemed as "physical", in nature. No, we hunt outwardly because we're constantly hunting "inwardly", and it's a good thing for ghost hunters to keep in mind.  Hunt a spirit as you would appreciate being hunted.

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What, exactly, *is* "paranormal"?

In all honesty, I think this might apply.  I find myself staring at it with a combination of confusion and childlike delight.  Naturally, I had to share.  Comments welcome, of course.

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