Strolling With Ghosts...

Go to practically any city of  significant size and often you will see brochures or advertisements promoting "Ghost tours" or "Ghost walks" or something to similar effect,  These companies decide that they will let you pay them ten or twelve bucks to walk you around the city to spooky-looking locations and then tell you a story about what happened there.  Some may think they are tourist traps, but there are also people who love them and seek them out whenever they can (this humble writer is one of those people...I love a good ghost story).

Now, nine times out of ten, one will not see a ghost on these tours, but the tour guides always prep their tours by telling the tourists they might see something.  The guides will usually reference things that happened on all those other tours (you know, the ones you never seem to be on when cool stuff happens...)

Just last week the humble writer of this blog and his wife were on vacation and traveled around the east coast for a bit.  We spent a big chunk of our time between North and South Carolina coastal areas, and that's how we found ourselves in Wilmington, North Carolina.

Ah, Wilmington.   Wilmington is the home of a tour I had never seen before but apparently is pretty famous.  Yes, the Wilmington Haunted Pub Crawl  (just an aside, if you ever find yourself in Wilmington, I would recommend this tour.  It's a lot of fun if you get the right tour guide, which I feel we did.  This guy was hilarious.)

The breakdown of the tour is this:  you start in one particular pub (and there are a lot of pubs in Wilmington, let me tell you) and have a drink and hear a ghost story.  After your drink you travel en masse to the next pub, where you repeat the actions of the first pub.  Wilmington has a lot of dark history, and the stories were very neat to hear.

It was a drizzling Wilmington night when we went out on our pub crawl.  We started at a place called Orton's, which holds the distinction for being the oldest continuously operating pool hall in America.  After a quick pint, we heard the story of Willie Stephens, a ladies man and all about rascal whose body was found in the wreckage of the building after it burned down in the late 1800's.

The Orton Hotel as it originally appeared before it burned down.

Now all that is left of the Orton is the original basement (where the pool hall is).  Willie haunts the pool hall and if he likes you, he will help your billiards game by moving the balls into the pockets for you, but if he doesn't like you, then you will play the worst game of pool, ever.  The world's record for consecutive pool shots was set in the Orton pool hall (they have a sign and everything attesting to this) and the man who made the records even confessed that some of his shots should never have gone in (but they did!)  The record is 365 shots in a row.

This sign hangs above the pool table where the record was set

We ambled out of Orton's and to the next pub...

The Black Sheep...built beneath an old Masonic Temple.

The Black Sheep tavern shares history with the Orton.  You see, they all used to be part of one huge connected building, but they were divided up into separate parts.  One thing that they have in common is the basement (which was later divided also) but the Black Sheep was built below a Masonic Temple (which seemed to have a shady history).  Another pint, another story, and we were off to...

The Liquid Room!

The Liquid Room...home of the world's crankiest elevator.

The Liquid Room has seen a lot of owners.  Each one sold the bar to the next owner after a bad experience.   The Liquid Room (on Market Street) was the location of the old slave market back in pre-Civil War days.  When the Nat Turner slave uprising happened, the citizens of Wilmington were afraid of a similar slave uprising in Wilmington, so they found six freedmen, charged them with false charges and had them all hanged on Gallows Hill (just up the street).  They put their heads on sticks and displayed them here in front of the slave market so the slaves up for auction would see the heads and take it as a lesson not to try anything themselves.  So, flash forward through the years and the Liquid Room becomes a hotbed of paranormal activity.  Claims of seeing people on stairs (who weren't there) shelves falling on their own accord, and....the elevator that has a mind of its own.

The elevator...to Hell!  Just kidding.   But these are the doors to the elevator that tries to kill people!

The elevator, despite being one of the old ones that you have to slide a little gate in front of to make the circuit connection to operate, moves on its own without having that gate shut.  Many elevator repairmen have checked it out and said it's impossible, but there it is.  One of the waitresses stepped into it and fell down into the shaft and narrowly missed impaling herself on the spikes at the bottom of the shaft.

Another pint, and off to The Blue Post....

Hungry?  Stop in for a bite!

The Blue Post is one of the older pubs in Wilmington and got its name because it used to be a brothel and a bar.  When the sailors got off their boats in the harbor and ask where they could get some refreshment and some "entertainment,"  Gallus Meg, the owner of the bar, had a post outside the front painted blue, so the sailors were told to "look for the blue post."

Speaking of Gallus Meg, she was a huge woman (about 6 foot 3) and 300 pounds of rock solid muscle.  If any of her customers mistreated or disrespected her ladies, she would take them out the back of the bar, put them in a stranglehold while beating the crap out of them, then she would bend down and bite the customer's ear off.  She then would walk back into the bar with the ear still between her teeth and spit it into a large pickling jar she kept on the counter.

(Just on a side note, if a sailor came into the bar and was hungry, Gallus Meg would offer that poor sailor a snack from the pickling jar.  It was pretty common to see a poor, starving sailor chewing away on a meaty treat from the pickling jar.  The other patrons got a big kick out of watching it.)

Anyway, Gallus Meg's luck ran out and she was found stabbed to death outside the back door of her pub.

Paradise Alley.  The back door where Gallus Meg's body was found

So the ghost of Gallus Meg apparently haunts The Blue Post and is only seen by men.  The story goes if a man accidentally wanders into the ladies' room, he will see a large woman behind him in the mirror who is looking like she is about to strangle him.

So to sum up thoughts about a haunted pub crawl.  It was a lot of fun.  Was it paranormal?  No.  But if you're interested in good ghost stories, it's worth checking out.

Although this wasn't an official Paranormal Investigation Society of Tennessee outing as a whole, sometimes it's good to report on supernatural things as we come to them.  Now, you (as a reader) may have noticed some of the stories are slight on details at various pubs, but to retell the whole story would be to spoil it for yourself if you ever decide to go (and they travel to different pubs on different nights, so it's possible that if you went twice, you wouldn't go to the same pubs as the night before).

So, Ghost Tours are worth the money (in my opinion) but one has to wonder (as one goes to different cities on their tours) that the stories start to seem to sound similar.  Is it a matter of tour companies repackaging common urban legends to fit their locales?  Possibly, but the stories are still cool to hear.

Scooby Doo Never Caught a Ghost Either...

How do chains stay on a ghost?

Faithful readers of this blog (all two of you) know that in  previous posts there has been a lot of discussion (complaining, on my part) about the lack of activity that our last few investigations has turned up.  While this fact may be disheartening to a professional ghost hunter, we, as group, never make the claim that we are professional (that is, we do not have a television reality show).

So, that fact that there has been enough paranormal activity in the world to fill countless volumes of books, fill up no fewer than five different "haunted" type television shows at any given time, and be the subject of endless legends, tales, word-of-mouth stories, etc., would lead one to believe that random spirits just flitter around in the air waiting to be documented.  Well... not exactly.

The collected psychology of our "humanness" (for lack of a better word) makes us believe in a world past our physical realities (dogs, I don't think, have this problem).  So, when everyone (by everyone, I mean people) "buys in" to the belief of a world out there that Shakespeare referred to as "The Undiscovered Country" it is a self-fulfilling prophecy that we as people create.  In that world, spirits would, indeed, exist.  But are they real, or part of our collective subconscious?  A lot of people smarter than I have tackled this topic both from a theological and a secular perspective, so I won't even try to rehash those arguments (that's what Google is for).

So, when thinking about the last house we investigated, was it a Gateway to the Underworld?  (uh, no...)  Did bad things happen in that house? (maybe, but you could say that about almost all houses)  Was there evidence of a black, shadowy figure moving across the bedroom? (one person's black, shadowy figure is another person's trick of the light)  So what was it?  The history of the house had kids playing with Ouija boards.  Did that trigger paranormal activity?  (we should speak with Hasbro about this...)

In the end, it's a matter of perspective.  If a person truly believes something is haunted, then he or she is going to do everything they can to convince others (mostly because that person doesn't want others thinking he or she is crazy).  A neutral, third party comes in to investigate.  This party has no vested interest in the location, no personal ties, so this party can be objective.  Does the owner of the property project his or her belief onto the neutral party?  I believe so, in that we are always influenced by emotions and moods of people around us.  It's what makes us human.  The owner of the property is insistent that things are happening, and, like it or not, the investigative party is swayed by the emotions of the owner.  We all buy into the stories (whether true or not).

When a person looks a cloud and sees a horse shape, he will point to his buddy and say "look at that cloud, it's a horse."  His buddy will look up and say, "No, it's not a horse, it looks like a Volkswagen."  The first person will then say, "No, see, there's the legs, and there's the tail and there's the head.  I don't see why you don't see what I see."  His buddy will stare at the sky and finally say, "Yes, I suppose that kinda looks like a tail, and that kinda looks like a head."  The first person will then fill vindicated that he has convinced his buddy to see what he saw (even if his buddy secretly thinks that the cloud still looks like a Volkswagen).  Perspective.  People see or hear what they want and then try to convince others they are right.

The point is this.  Scooby-Doo never caught a real ghost (and just for clarification purposes, we're talking classic Scooby-Doo, not that crap they put on with Scrappy-Doo in the later years).  The idea is that Scooby-Doo and his gang always thought they were chasing a real ghost, no matter how many times they discovered it was a projected image or someone in disguise.  They believed it up to the end (when the old man's mask always came off.)  Their perspective was that they believed it was real, and they kept going on new investigations despite the fact that they never caught a real ghost.

So... I guess that's us.  Pushing onward even though the masks always come off in the end.

"I have heard (but not believ'd) the spirits of the dead / May walk again..."

Of course the title quote is from William Shakespeare (specifically from The Winter's Tale Act 3, Scene 3) and it is telling that Shakespeare wrote so much about ghosts and spirits.  Indeed, the idea of the spirit world is as old as time itself, and so why should the belief be any less in people now than then?

Science is partly to blame.  We now have logical, precise explanations for almost everything.  What was once called "psychic photography" is now a smudge on the lens of a camera or a moth caught in a flash of light.  So in the face of all the scientific advances and explanations, why is the "business" of ghost hunting so popular?

I said "business" because there are hundreds of attractions that draw people in by claiming to be "haunted."  The people who go to these sites are going because they like a good, scary story  (the idea of the "haunted attraction" was blogged about previously:  see "Selling You a Bill of Ghouls" so I will not rehash that argument here).

As a group, we have been to many "haunted" locations.  We've been to the Waverly Hills Sanitorium in Louisville, KY, we've been to Octagon Hall, we've been to the Old South Pittsburg Hospital, we've been to the Thomas House Hotel.  What do these places have in common?

They have built a business about advertising themselves as "haunted."

What have we found there?  Well, besides some good E.V.P.'s at Waverly Hills, and filmed footage of a ball rolling by itself across the floor at the Thomas House, not much.

Where have we gotten the most activity?  Out of the way places and private homes.  The places that do not oversell themselves as "haunted"  (the chilling results we got at the house known as Shackleford Corner still resonate with us today).

This blog post serves as a prelude to our investigation later tonight.  We always hope that this will be "the one" where we find something.  The point is: if a place is actually advertising itself as "haunted" feel free to go to it and enjoy it for the stories and the history, just don't go in expecting Hollywood type scares.

After all, there's no business like ghost business...

"In that tiny, kinda scary house by the woods"

If Hollywood has taught us nothing else, it's taught us to beware the cabin in the woods (or near the woods, or by the woods, or made of wood).  It's that remote sense of isolation and the constant rustling of wildlife all around that makes a cabin in the woods a prime source of paranoia (and a good place for serial killers to hang out, apparently).

This particular cabin is located on about 400 acres of prime woodland in Humphreys County, Tennessee.  It's used primarily as a hunting cabin for people who come to hunt deer and turkey (or fish in the 12 acre lake that's located way back (in the dark and scary woods. . .)

More importantly, this cabin sits on some land with historical significance.  During the Civil War, the surrounding land was occupied by Union troops who were encamped here to guard the railroad after the fall of Forts Henry and Donelson while the rest of the Union troops went farther east to occupy Nashville.  The rifle pits dug by the soldiers can still be seen on the property behind the cabin.

One of the old rifle pits behind the cabin

So what brought us to this cabin and its surrounding woods on a (very) hot summer night?  Like other historical properties, tales of paranormal activity spring up through the years.  On this particular property, there were reports of mysterious campfires showing in the darkness (around the area of the encampments), and the ghostly apparitions of the soldiers appearing here and there.  A lot of soldiers died due to illness in the camps and were buried on the grounds (but were later moved to a proper cemetery). 

We set out for a quick tour of the woods and the area around the cabin and were taken back to where  an old cistern was located.

The remains of the cistern at the site of the main Union camp

 This cistern area was supposed to be one of the "hotspots" on the property.  It was near the location of the mysterious campfires that could be seen in the distance.  We also walked through the rifle pits (where we later caught an interesting E.V.P. that hopefully we can post later) of what sounds like rifles clicking, as if being primed to fire.

The rifle pit where we caught the sound of "rifles clicking."

 One of the most difficult things about an outdoor investigation in Tennessee in the summer is the sound of the bugs interfering with recording.  You also get a lot more insects flying through your photographs and dust floating through the air.  In fact, recording outside is almost impossible.  Nevertheless we set out in teams to explore the property later that night.  A few of us went to the cistern, some of us went up to the rifle pits.  

Then the exciting part happened near the cistern closer to midnight.  As we stood with our recorders ready, conducting our E.V.P. session (despite the bug noises)  there was a tremendous rustling that started through the trees.  As we continued asking questions, the rustling grew closer and louder.  Were we about to make contact?  Was something about to materialize out of the woods?  Was it. . . an armadillo?

Two armadillos crashing through the woods

 After the shock of seeing not one, but two, armadillos coming through the woods wore off, we started the long hike back towards the cabin to review our evidence.

Returning to the cabin after dark

 As we sat in the cabin later that night reviewing our recordings, it was apparent that we didn't really catch that much in way of paranormal activity.  The rifle clicking E.V.P. will undergo further scrutiny, but overall, a nice hot summer night with good company once again showing that investigating sites around the area is more about the experience, rather than the results (which are not always promising).  Still it was a good time, and as always, we want to show our appreciation to the owners of the property for letting us tramp around for a night.

The Ghost Factory

There is a certain grain of salt one has to take when going out on an investigation. Either one can believe in the hype of a site and trust that the dozens of groups that have gone before have done their jobs and can verify the truth of the claims of a haunting, or one can go not believing anything and trying to find out things for himself. Most of the time the hype is a a marketing ploy (which was mentioned in a previous blog post), sometimes the hype is worthwhile.

This brings us to the story of the Old South Pittsburg Hospital in South Pittsburg, Tennessee. Up until the late 90's, this was the only hospital in the area for about 50 miles. This meant, of course, that the local residents had little choice in where to go for medical care. Since the hospital was already in an economically depressed area, the need was double. Unfortunately, many of the residents and employees of this facility did not get the care they needed. Due to various lawsuits and overall lack of (reported) care of its patients, the hospital was closed while a new hospital was built nearby.


Places that advertise a haunted history generally have things in common such as being a place of great shock or trauma (many atrocities may have happened on site). The result is a combination of legend and fact that mingles together in an urban legend type of stew. As the lines continue to blur around what might have happened and what actually happened, the legend grows and stories begin to develop.

Was the Old South Pittsburg Hospital a place of great suffering? Most likely, yes (it was a hospital, after all). Were atrocities committed there? That is debatable. A lot of former employees seem to have been mistreated while working there. A great number of employee deaths occurred while on the job. Were the patients abused? Well, some wrongful death lawsuits say probably so, as well.

Needless to say, the stories around the hospital began to grow after its closure. A local doctor purchased the property and so it sits today, billing itself as a "para-alternative research facility." What sort of things haunt this hospital? Most hospitals around the world have seen their share of trauma and shock. What makes the Pittsburg Hospital special?

Well, as with many sites in the southern part of the country, there are traces of Native American and bloody Civil War history in and around the area of the hospital. Some say these things amplify spirit activity, but if that were the case, the South would be swarming with ghosts and spirits everywhere you look.

We came to the hospital after having booked it for the 22 hour lockdown. Once inside we upacked the gear and decided which teams would cover which parts of the hospital. It was a big job (68,000 square feet is a lot of ground to cover!) This would be a good opportunity to do an extensive investigation. Spending the night in a haunted hospital? How could anyone pass that up?

We arrived at the hospital amid a thunderstorm. The air was crackling with lightning. It seemed a little cliche, but we were excited, nonetheless. A quick tour gave us the history and the layout of the place. One of the advantages of a facility like this was the strategic placement of IR cameras down various hallways. The administrators of the hospital actively record and stream live camera feeds for viewing on the internet (and will sell you footage of your investigation for a small fee). It would be worth it if you managed to catch something on your cameras or your DVR's and needed a secondary confirmation from another source.

That is, if you caught something.

We set out in teams of two, each team covering a different floor. The third floor was reported to have the most activity, but other paranormal groups reported the basement was were the action was. We spread out and began to investigate.

The third floor contained the operating rooms, the nursery, and the labor and delivery department (a little bit farther down the hall was the psych ward). Many reports of the sound of babies crying and children had been reported around the nursery area. This is an image of the nursery viewing area.

Down the hallway a bit is the psych ward. At the end of the hall is room 305, home to a woman named Nellie who had slipped into dementia in later life before she passed. The room is kept made up out of respect for her (who was apparently a beloved community figure.). This is an image of her room:
We did a lot of E.V.P. sessions in Nellie's room. Nellie's room was also the room of a woman named Irene who apparently was quite hateful towards women (naturally, our first inclination was to put our female investigators in there to get a response).

One of the prime ways to get a response from "the other side" is to fabricate a story and see what the response is. One of the early E.V.P.'s we caught was on the third floor near the nursery. Our story was that there was a tornado headed towards the hospital and everyone needed to find shelter. We caught a voice clearly saying "this way" as we headed toward the stairs. Because we were going to be in one investigative spot for an extended period, it was easier for us to do a couple of quick E.V.P. sessions (about 15-20 minutes) then stop and review the tape. It saves a lot of time consuming evidence review later on when one has to sit and review 12 hours of recording and try to remember what the context was.

We continued down into the basement. One of the hospital administrators had told us that there was a lot of poltergeist activity in the basement (one of the maintenance men had died down there of a heart attack). In the engineering room (with the open door) is where the death happened.Although we did not see evidence of any poltergeist activity down there, we have not yet reviewed all of the video footage. Something might show up.

So we reviewed evidence late into the night and took a quick nap (if 3 hours is a quick nap). Most of the images we have seen of the "shadow people" seem to have been snapped during the daylight, so we prepared to make another sweep of the hospital to snap some more still pictures.

Unless the audio review shows us more evidence, the experience of Old South Pittsburg Hospital might go down as a busted investigation. For a place that advertises itself as "one of the South's most haunted hospitals" there seemed to be very little going on. Of course, we understand that not everything is going to happen every single time. But this is the second investigation in a row where a place has billed itself as almost "super haunted" and our investigation turned out little to no evidence.

So most paranormal investigating comes down to a roll of the dice to see if you're there on a lucky night. The places we've been to that no one has ever heard of has yielded very good results, and the "over-hyped" places (like Octagon Hall) seem to fizzle. Does the mere fact that word is out that a place is "haunted" and celebrity investigators come drive spirits away? Is it all just smoke and mirrors and a money game? Like I mentioned in the opening paragraph, can dozens of groups come through, get all kinds of evidence, and then we show up and. . .crickets chirp?

A Night at the Hall

There are really only two things you need to be a successful ghost hunter (or "investigator" if you want to sound academic). They are, simply put, the ability to sit still and be quiet. Needless to say, this is easier said than done, especially when your investigating group is made up of social beings.

Most seasoned investigators will tell you that to have a conversation with a ghost and capture its response on a recording device, you just need to sit and talk casually and try to draw out answers. If you have a team of social beings this can be a problem when reviewing evidence because the listener has to sit and replay all the conversations picked up during the course of the evening among the investigating team.

So again, one needs to learn to sit and be quiet. Ambient noises (footsteps of people walking around, bumps, random bits of conversation) can kill an E.V.P. session.

Older buildings (primarily houses) have an unnerving tendency to carry sound through the walls and floors in unusual ways.

Which brings us to Octagon Hall.

Every investigation can run the risk of being hit or miss. It seems that the more hyped up a location, the less likely evidence will be forthcoming. Of course, a lot of places these days seem to use the label of "haunted" as a marketing tool (see the previous entry "Selling You a Bill of Ghouls" for my thoughts on this phenomenon) more than anything else. A few blurbs on the paranormal television shows (which seem to be on all the time) and the location has been "labeled." This, in turn, attracts all kinds of amateur paranormal groups to line up and take their turn to try to find the holy grail of paranormal investigation: undeniable proof of the spirit world.

Most of these locations are historical in nature (such as The Waverly Hills Sanatorium in Louisville, KY) and they use money raised for preservation purposes, which is a noble and good cause. Octagon Hall in Franklin, KY is also one of these places.

Octagon Hall itself is a remarkable building. From the outside, it doesn't seem very large, but it's an optical illusion. On the inside are fifteen rooms with stairs that wind up and down and rooms that connect to one another and create a kind of "flow" to the house. From an architectural standpoint, octagon-shaped houses were cheaper to build, had more living space (since it's hard to build a house in a circle shape, the octagon shape was the best alternative), received more natural light and was easier to heat and to cool in the summer. Needless to say, they were a popular design in the 1850's (for all of the above reasons).

So what is special about this particular octagon-shaped house on the outskirts of a small Kentucky town? Why did it get the "label" of one of the most haunted places in America?

Typically, historical places, such as this house, have their roots in tragedy and trauma. In this case, the house was the home of Andrew Jackson Caldwell and his wife, Elizabeth. Caldwell began building his house in 1847 and finished in 1859. Caldwell himself was a Confederate sympathizer and harbored many wounded Confederate soldiers in the attic and in hidden passages beneath the stairs. One of the wounded Confederate soldiers was shot in the leg and hidden in the attic. While he was up there, he apparently removed his boot (which was putting pressure on his wound it seemed) and bled to death in the attic.

His is one of the spirits said to be seen roaming the grounds. But the real story of the house and its sad history belongs to Caldwell's seven-year-old daughter, Mary Elizabeth.

In our last two investigations (The Thomas House Hotel and the house at Shackleford Corner) we have heard the stories of children dying young and tragically. Consequently, theirs are the spirits that are said to be most active in these locations. Octagon Hall is no exception.

On an aside, in future rumination on this blog I will be examining the question of why the spirits of children seem to be more active in these types of places, but for now, back to our story.

Mary Elizabeth and her cousin were down in the winter kitchen of the house, which was in the basement (the summer kitchen being outside in a separate building as not to heat up the entire house in the warm summer months). They were poking at the fire when a spark or an ember popped up and ignited Mary's dress. She was horribly burned and died a few days later (most likely from infection caused by severe burns).



This is a photograph of the winter kitchen in the basement of Octagon Hall. The fireplace in the photo was the one that Mary was poking at. She burned in this very room (but she most likely died in her bedroom upstairs a few days later.)

Mary Elizabeth is buried behind Octagon Hall next to her mother and her infant brother (who died before turning one).


Elizabeth Caldwell (Mary's mother) is marked by the grave in the center. Mary and her brother are marked by the field stones on either side of her.

The stories of Mary haunting Octagon Hall are endless. There are reports of her singing, talking, moving things, etc. There are also reports of things moving around the fireplace where she was burned (primarily the arm holding the kettle tends to swing out on its own).

So, take a house with historical significance during a time of upheaval for the nation (the Civil War) add a few incidents of death in the house by soldiers (the Confederate bleeding to death in the attic, the house being used as a hospital) and top it off with the sudden and tragic death of a young girl (Mary Elizabeth) and countless reports of paranormal activity, and you have a perfect mix for an exciting night of supernatural wonder.

What happened? Our team went in, met the director (a super guy named Billy Byrd), got the layout of the place, and set up our command center in the dining room of the house. We decided where to put our cameras and equipment and settled in for the evening.

Because sound carries so well in these old houses, our initial E.V.P. breakout sessions (some in the basement, some on the first floor, some on the top floor) got a lot of crossover from the other teams (we generally were in pairs throughout the night).

Remember, you really only need the ability to sit still and be quiet.

It could have been we were there on an "off" night. It could have been that we just didn't connect with anything. We decided later in the evening to leave the house and go back in with just teams of two in the entire house.

In our modern houses in our modern society, we are used to the constant barrage of background noises: the hum of an air conditioner, the buzz of some lights, the drone of a television on somewhere in the house. In older houses, in a "lights out" environment, it is amazing how eerily quiet things are. It was the kind of stillness that would allow you to hear something if something was happening in the house: a random thump, a voice, a whisper, anything.

Now, as of the writing of this, admittedly we have not gone through all of our recorded evidence, and it's completely possibly that we caught voices on tapes. But the impression overall we got of the house was. . .not much.

So either the house is not haunted (which is probably unlikely considering the evidence presented by other paranormal groups) or we just weren't there on an "on" night.

Okay, so we never really expect sparks to shoot out of light sockets and doors to slam on their own and strange gusts of wind to blow through the room at dramatic pauses. Those are all Hollywood stereotypes of haunted houses. And any of the "ghost hunting" shows you watch are carefully edited to appear that everything happens instantaneously (voices "did you hear that?" visions "did you see that over there?" feelings "dude, I just felt a cold chill right here!").

Well, sadly, we didn't really get any of that at Octagon Hall. It was a fun night, and it's always good to go out with the idea that we are going to be that team to find that holy grail, especially at a place that has marketed itself as one of the most haunted places in America.

There's always the next investigation to look forward to.

If we could only master the art of staying quiet and being still.

Selling You a Bill of Ghouls

Everyone likes a good ghost story. Even if people don't believe in ghosts, they see it as entertainment. A lot of this has to do with Hollywood, but there is something else, too: a trigger in the psyche that makes something much more interesting if it’s labeled as “haunted.”

Is it really anything more than a marketing hook? A lot of cities offer ghost tours or candlelight walks through old cemeteries. A lot of people want so badly to believe in the paranormal that they’re willing to buy into the story. Case in point: a few years ago my family and I were on vacation in Savannah, Georgia, a city that likes to advertise itself as “the most haunted city in America” (take that, New Orleans!). A quick search at the visitor’s center turned up about twelve brochures for ghost tours and walking tours of the city. There was one in particular that caught our attention: one that advertised the fact that they were the ONLY ghost tour in Savannah that was allowed to actually go inside a real haunted house. How interesting, and, of course, that was the one we went on.

The house itself was the Sorrel-Weed House and outside of the house, a small plaque proudly proclaimed that it had actually been certified as “haunted” by T.A.P.S. (the guys from the show Ghost Hunters). This was a fact that was also used in the brochure. On the outside, the house looks quite similar to the houses around it. Pre-Civil War architecture, sort of a gothic feel to it.

I remember standing there on the sidewalk waiting to go inside and looking at all the houses around it. What made the Sorrel-Weed house “feel” different? A psychological seed had been planted. I had been told before I ever saw the house that it was haunted. Suddenly, the house seemed different. I started looking for things: shadows in the windows, perhaps, or small noises, or flickers of light. My brain had been wired to start interpreting this house as haunted, and therefore, I started looking for signs of it. (on a side note, the house itself was neat, but the owners of the house had obviously made the house feel like what a normal tourist group would expect a haunted house to feel like: dim lighting that threw strange shadows around the rooms, a lot of mirrors that threw reflected light from camera flashes, etc).

But to my original point, and I do have one. Selling something as haunted is a good way to increase business, no doubt, but how different does one react when one is standing outside a quaint little bed and breakfast and says, “it’s nice.” Someone else says, “yes, and it’s haunted.” Suddenly the interest factor increases tenfold. What’s the story behind it? (and the more gruesome the better). There is usually a tragedy involved as in most good ghost stories. The point is that a perfectly normal building or house changes once that “seed” is planted. All perceptions of the house are changed. Your brain is now told, “this place is haunted. Look for signs.” Every bump becomes a poltergeist. Every wind draft is a spirit moving through. Every flicker of light is a ghost communicating.

This is the problem with a lot of paranormal investigations. One has to be able to separate that power of suggestion from “it’s haunted” to “just the facts.” Granted, it’s hard to do. Once someone tells you something, you can’t exactly “unhear” it. Many scholarly articles have been written on the power of suggestion (which is something I won’t go into here.)

At the end of the day, everyone just likes a good ghost story.