I think many of us have had strange things happen in our lives that have made us take a step back and say "What the heck?!" A door opens unexpectedly; you hear a voice calling your name but no one is there; you catch a shadow or silhouette but when you turn you don't see anyone; music playing from out of nowhere; footsteps with no one around, etc. For the most part our logical minds have been trained to discount events which defy logical explanation, and so we move on without clear understanding. Sometimes we walk away feeling fearful or creeped out. Sadly we tend to learn, as we age, to ignore those things that we can't see, smell, taste, touch, or hear. So what of the supernatural/paranormal? Do you believe? Do you disbelieve? Are you a fence sitter? You'll believe it when it really happens to you, and you can't discount it? For me, I believe that ghosts and other paranormal events are possibilities. I can't swear they are real but, I can't prove they aren't either. So I have to say I am somewhat of a fence sitter.
I don't have any special abilities, at least none that I would dare boast about. There have been many occurrences in my life that have given me pause or made me say WTH. Because of these events I have developed a healthy respect for things that are inexplicable. When I discussed these past happenings withother explorers, they pointed out that there were many that were potentially paranormal experiences. To me they were just coincidences, or perhaps even "maybes".
The most recent incident happened when I spent a night at the Pack House Inn located in Edenton, NC. The Pack House Inn, built in Nineteen-fifteen, was originally a Tobacco packing house at the Seventeen Eighty-five Strawberry Hill Plantation. In Nineteen eighty-seven the building was cut in half and moved to its present location., where it was converted into a Bed and Breakfast. The rooms at the Inn are very homey and comfortable, with a lovely touch of luxury.
I was given lodging in a separate building, called the Tillie Bond Cottage. This is where the kitchen is located and the continental breakfast served. My room in the cottage, room twenty-two, was originally Tillie's own bedroom. You can see pictures of it via the link we have posted. Each room at the Pack House Inn/Tillie Bond Cottage offers a split of wine upon check-in. Sadly I could not locate mine and - being the wine connoisseur that I am - did not want to miss out on this treasured amenity. Determined that I had simply overlooked the split, I began a thorough search of the room. During my efforts I discovered a small, narrow door that I assumed to be a coat closet. When I opened it I was amazed to find a dark, cobweb-filled, narrow stair that rose into the lightless blackness above me. I remember thinking, "This is creepy", while pondering whether it would be worth exploration. It was obvious from the dust on the steps that no one had climbed those stairs in a very long time. Not having a flashlight with me, and not wanting to violate the trust of the owners, I closed the closet deciding it was simply none of my business.
I still had luggage to retrieve, and I wanted to see the remainder of the Pack House Inn prior to dark, so Rowdy and I wandered out to explore. Upon returning to the room I discovered the closet was open about three inches. I decided that I may not have latched it securely and the air movement from closing the room door had pulled it open again. I re-secured the door, checking that it was indeed latched, and went about the evening. I returned to the room on three more occasions to find the closet door once again open. Finally, accepting defeat, I left it as I had found it. Before I retired for the night I closed and latched the door and slid a chair beneath it. If I were going to have a late night visitor I wanted to have some early warning. When I awoke in the morning the door remained closed and secured.
This was not the first of the diverse and strange experiences in my life. I remember knowing something was wrong the moment my grandfather died, and making my date take me home. My sister told me that Mom and Dad had left because Grandpa was sick. I told her with absolute certainty that Grandpa had died. I had felt it as we were crossing the Tenth Street Bridge in my home town. She argued that I couldn't know that. Sadly, I knew absolutely that I was right and that our beloved grandfather was gone.
I recall an incident in which I removed my rings for a shower and placed them on the front of my dresser. When I got out of the shower they were gone. I even had someone else search but they were not to be found. About two weeks later, as I was getting out of bed, I found the rings laying in the exact spot I had left them before they disappeared.
I also had a visitation from a beloved pet. My cat of sixteen years used to comfort me whenever I was upset by kneading her paws on me. One day, a few months after she had passed away, I was upset and crying in bed. This was early in the morning, after getting off a night shift. I had just laid down, quietly weeping, when I felt something jump onto the bed, walk across it, and start kneading on my leg. I was certain that I would be able to see Princess if I opened my eyes. Sadly, when I did open them, the kneading stopped and she could no longer be felt. I thanked her outloud for that comfort, and bid her safe travels. I have never had a visitation from her again, perhaps because I moved away from that house.
There are several encounters which have occurred in different hospitals where I've worked. In one hospital, on two separate occasions, I saw a young girl with long blond hair walking into a room in the ICU. Each time she went into the same room, and I saw her either out of the corner of my eye or in a reflection. I only saw her from the back and she resembled one of the respiratory therapists that worked there, and so I assumed that was who I was seeing. The room the girl walked into was the area where we stored extra respiratory supplies. Both times I followed the girl into the room to discuss some aspect of patient care that I needed her help with. The first time the room was empty and dark. The second time the room actually had a patient in it, but the family denied that anyone had entered the room. When I later spoke with this respiratory therapist she informed me she had not been in the area either time. On one of those two occasions she wasn't even working. The other she was at the opposite end of the hospital, and had documentation to prove it. I subsequently asked other employees if they had noticed anything similar. They reported that there had been numerous sightings of a young blond girl over the years. They believed it was a 15 year old who had passed away in that particular room of the ICU.
The second eerie occurrence happened at a different hospital in the same city. A co-worker and I had to bring the morgue cart to the ICU for a patient who had passed away. We had to retrieve the cart from the basement morgue cooler, and on the way down the co-worker was talking about the creepy events that have happened to her in the basement. When we pulled the cart from the cooler and started back to the ICU we noticed that condensation was occurring on both rails of the cart. We were both pushing it from the right side. We then noticed the absence of condensation at the head of the left rail. There we observed a large hand print. Needless to say we made fast tracks out of the basement, although we did not leave the cart behind. Duty before fear!
The last hospital event occurred in Oregon. I was working in Emergency when a dying patient was rushed in by a flight crew. A lengthy resuscitation was finally called to an end and the staff were preparing the deceased patient for her family to arrive. I was charting at a computer approximately ten feet from the room where the resuscitation had occurred, when my peripheral vision caught site of a man standing outside the door of the room. He was looking around the nursing station and occasionally looking back at the patient. He was tall - stood an inch or so below the top of the door -with sandy hair, a white shirt, blue jeans with a belt, and appeared to be in his early fifties. After about ten minutes, I turned to offer him a chair and a drink if he needed it. I was certain that it must have been a family member waiting for the staff to allow him in the room to be with his mother. When I turned my full attention to the door, there was no one there. None of the other staff reported seeing anyone standing by the door, nor did they ever have any similar incident in the past.
My dad used to live in a house that was always purported to be haunted. There had been numerous sightings and strange incidents. One room upstairs was called the "room with the eyes" by all the grandkids, and my youngest sister. They used to get scared staying in that room. One day while I was staying there, trying to get some sleep after a night shift, I heard a very loud bang in the hallway. Sometimes I get grumpy when I don't get sleep and this was immediately after I had gone to bed. I simply yelled,"I don't care if you're here but you have to be quiet". Later that day, when I woke up, I found a phone book laying in the hall outside the bedroom door. I was never bothered again while I trying to sleep.
Many people, including a close friend of mine, reported seeing an old woman walking around in the upstairs. I personally had the feeling that a child with the aging disease had been locked away in a crawl way under the eaves, which was behind the closet in the "room with the eyes". When I discovered the crawl way door I opened it. I immediately felt a cold chill in the center of my chest and a sense of despairing from a young child who appeared old. I whispered words of welcome and comfort to him, as that felt like what he needed.
The most terrifying incident of my life occured while I was attending college. I worked as an on-site manager for a trailer park to help put myself through school. One evening I received a phone call from a family member of a resident who stated that she hadn't seen him in a week. He was an individual who always kept to himself, was frequently gone visiting family, and listened to the radio from his couch in the evenings. At night his trailer lights were always on until very late, his music playing, and his shadow could be seen sitting on his couch.
Upon checking on this man I found him long deceased in his trailer -sitting slumped on the couch in his boxers with his music playing. The only thing amiss was the accumulation of mail in his mailbox, which the postman never reported (even though two checks remained in the box). The coroner reported the tenant had been dead for at least ten days, due to the advanced state of decomposition.
The trailer was beyond saving as a rental due to the overwhelming odor inside. The man's family had cleared his salvageable belongings and the trailer - owned by the park management company - was donated to the Salvation Army who planned to gut it to use for office space.
A tow driver arrived to pick up the trailer and I was there to ensure they didn't damage any of the park structures. The water, gas, electric, and sewage pipes were located next to the space, along with a very large tree. While I stood next to the trailer I had time to study the features. It was a newer model and was in great shape. I observed that all the rivets were in place and tight, the fan over the stove was open, the windows were in good shape, there were no marks, dents, or rust on the exterior, etc. I stood next to this trailer looking at all these things for approximately twenty minutes, while the driver hooked up to it and prepared to move it. I also had another young woman on the opposite side, ensuring that the awning next to it didn't get damaged when the trailer was moved. Needless to say, I had time to study it thoroughly and closely.
Once the trailer was finally out of the space and lined up for towing the driver asked me to go inside and open the back window of the bedroom so that he could apply towing lights. I ran around the trailer and did as he requested, leaving the other young lady guarding it. She stood on the same side where I had been, but at the opposite end where the back door was located. The smell inside the trailer was abominable and, sadly, I observed some of the tenants personal items which his family had left behind. Items that were of a questionable nature for such a kindly old man.
When the lights were secure I left the trailer by the back door where I had entered (which was the opposite end from where this gentleman had died) and returned to the spot where I had been standing before. Looking up at the side of the trailer I immediately saw the words "DONT ENTER AGAI_". The N of the word was only partially completed, as if someone had been disturbed in the middle of writing it. The upward then downward lines were there, but only a small portion of the third line was completed. These words were scratched into the paint of the trailer right next to the window where I had been counting the endless number of flies and noting all the secure rivets. The raw metal was shiny in the sunlight so it immediately drew my full attention.
I could not contain the scream. My assistant immediately asked me what was wrong. I showed her the words, and asked who had been there while I was inside. She was positive that no one had approached the trailer at any time. She had a clear view and had been looking in that direction.
I knew, as soon as I saw the words, that I had dodged something very unpleasant. Standing in the warm sunlight of that day I promised out loud, "Don't worry. I won't."
These are but a few of the many events that I've experienced over the years. Things that made me stop and say, "what the heck". I am not a novice with death, having served in healthcare for over 27 years. Still, I wonder. Are things that "go bump in the night" actually paranormal, or simply our minds reminding us that we have so much more potential if only we could clear the cobwebs and use all of our brain.
For now, I will continue to be the "Doubting Thomas" of our exploring duo. I will question every event and attempt to verify which happenings are explicable through logical and identifiable sources. I will leave it to you, dear reader, to make your own judgements.
We will continue our exploits, and report only that which we experience ourselves. There will be no added drama, just curiosity and a healthy sense of adventure. We hope that you will remain with us as we enjoy our ghostly explorings.
Many Bright Blessings,
L
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
Harpers Ferry, West Virginia - Case #1
One of our recent outings was a trip to Harpers Ferry, West
Virginia on Christmas day. T decided he wanted to show me some of his
favorite "haunts" around this quaint little town (please excuse the horrible pun).
In order for our readers to get a feel for the places we explore, we shall try to share a little of the history. This is T's baby so I will let him regale you with all that he knows about the area. And since I have already heard this once, I think I'll go and fix us a snack while he fills you in on the story of John Brown, the Civil War battles, Hog alley, the Bloody stairs, and the old Priest of St. Peters Church.
T:
John Brown led a failed raid of 21 men against the Federal Armory in Harpers Ferry on October 16th, 1859. His attack on the arsenal was but one of many of his efforts in his fight against slavery. He was arrested for inciting treason against the Commonwealth of Virginia, and was hung in Charlestown, (West) Virginia December 2nd, 1859. He is said to be seen still walking the streets of Harpers Ferry. Visitors who purported to have seen his ghost claimed that at first they thought he was a Civil War era reenactor. That first impression disappeared quickly when Brown disappeared also.
Hog Alley... well, as might be expected from the name this is not a pretty story (no offense to pigs). During John Brown’s raid on Harpers Ferry, one of only five colored folk in his band of raiders, Dangerfield Newby, was shot through the neck, and died instantly. Being as bullets were scarce in town, despite the fact that a U.S. armory was located there, Newby was not hit by a ball of lead but by a six-inch spike fired from a rifle. OUCH. The townsfolk were already riled-up at the deaths of some of their family and friends by the raiders. When Newby fell his body was repeatedly stabbed, then dismembered, and his parts were tossed into a dirt alleyway where they were mostly devoured by hogs. Sightings of Dangerfield Newby’s ghost abound. He is seen at various times, missing various body parts. ouch-ouch.
The alleyway is now a paved roadway connecting High Street with Potomac Street. It has a street sign which vanishes from time-to-time - not because of any hauntings, but at the hands of people wanting a souvenir of this tainted area. After all, one doesn’t see a ‘Hog Alley’ all that often.
As for Civil War battles in Harpers Ferry, both the North and South discovered that the town was hard to hold once captured. Surrounded by mountains, the town was a sitting duck for cannons placed high on the ridges. Unless an army controlled the countryside for miles in all directions, Harpers Ferry was a slippery prize, indeed, and it changed hands many times during the Civil War. Many soldiers lost their lives there... right in town.
That brings us to the Bloody Steps and St. Peters Catholic Church. During some of the battles in and around Harpers Ferry, the wounded were carried up the stone steps leading from lower town to St. Peters, about two fifths the way to the top of the hill. The church was used as a military hospital, and was a place that witnessed much agony and death within it's walls. The blood from wounded soldiers flowed onto the steps as they were carried up to the church. Some claim the steps still bear the bloody stains. St. Peter's Church avoided being bombarded during these conflicts because of the tactics of Father Costello. He raised the British flag above the church’s steeple. Uncertain whether the church was really on British-owned land, the encroaching armies decided to leave the building in one piece, as neither side wanted to instigate England to aid their enemy.
St. Peters Catholic Church and the Bloody Steps have been the location of numerous sightings. One very oft-told encounter is of a priest walking down the hill from the rectory. He seems normal in almost every way, until he is seen turning towards the church, walking across thin air, and passes through the wall of the building. It is rumored there was a door there, prior to a restoration in the late 1800s, and the priest is still using it to this day.
All the events listed above are not relegated to nocturnal hours, but occur almost anytime, night or day. The whole town of Harpers Ferry is said to be haunted, with volumes of ghost stories (and quaint and forgotten lore as well) which are too numerous for this post. It’s a veritable gold mine of spooks and chills. With its violent history I can certainly see why.
Anyway, this particular post presents a night-time visit to the historic and haunted, Hilltop House Hotel, perched precariously atop a ridge above town overlooking the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers. The hotel was originally built in 1888, and has been a favorite place of many famous people. A fire in the early part of the 1900s resulted in the deaths of two guests. This is fact, not legend. The rooms above the kitchen area (where the fire began) have been reported to be haunted ever since the fire. I have personally witnessed supernatural occurrences in those rooms, while staying there as a guest .
The hotel is presently closed for renovations and parts of the building gape open, covered with only a tarp to protect the interior from the elements. It is anybody’s guess when it will re-open, although the website says it is closed indefinitely. This is a much-beloved building and so the contractors seem to be treading carefully, as the eyes of the local population both living and dead are watching them.
It's just a fantastic place... ghosts or no ghosts. I've stayed there many times, and it will be a happy day when I can once again walk into the old lobby, sit myself down right in front of the fireplace, and let the atmosfear soak-in. A happy day indeed.
Well, the snacks are here, so I’ll turn things back over to our hostess. Before leaving, I just want to remind everyone that there is much history about Harpers Ferry to be found online, in libraries, and by visiting this wonderful place. Oh, and there is a cemetery at the top of the hill above town which has its own stories available. From top-to-bottom, Harper's Ferry... chills for everyone.
Llynn:
I should take this moment to introduce our last ghost explorer, Rowdy the Wonder Dog. He looks like a dust mop, and weighs about as much as a squirrel. But let me tell you he has attitude. He is part Maltese - which is where he gets his good looks, and part Chihuahua - which is where he gets the attitude! Rowdy accompanies us on many of our adventures, although when the circumstance is physically dangerous, he has to wait in the car. Don't worry, he gets his favorite snacks for his patience and, being a small dog with attitude, he would rather travel than wait at home.
At Hilltop House Hotel there is a tree-lined walkway along the end of the bluff that provides a view of the valley and rivers below. It is a place where people go to stroll, walk their dogs, make out, etc. When we arrived in the parking lot of Hotel, there was one other vehicle already parked there. I am not one to throw all caution to the wind, and so we waited until the other car left before we began our explorations. We spent about a half hour or so wandering around the newer section of the hotel, called the Lodge. We looked at the state of the building, the fixtures in need of repairs, the detritus left behind by other corporeal visitors, and the old furniture stored in one of the lobby areas.
I tend to notice the nuances of the architecture, as well as all that has suffered neglect over the years. We also noted that behind the Lodge a large tree has fallen against the building, although it does not appear to have caused any damage.
The guestrooms of the Lodge run at an angle away from the main area, which was once called the Annex. This wing consists of two floors of rooms which have both a front and back door, with covered breezeways on both sides of the building. The doors of the guestrooms are screwed shut, probably to prohibit vandals from wreaking havoc. There is also a maintenance area below the rooms which seems to be a local hangout, based on the number of empties that have accumulated down there. On the upper level we found another small maintenance closet at the far end of the wing. Inside this is an access door to the attic area above the rooms. The panel for this access has been removed, but we were reluctant to attempt climbing up through it. Besides the possible wild life that might be in there, I did not want to witness what damage has potentially been done to the structure. We did not notice any events at this newer building, although there are rumors of Civil War Era soldiers patrolling the road between the two buildings.
After perusing the Lodge area, we decided it was time to head to the grand Hotel and see if we could "scare anything up". We circled the main Hotel but, like the Lodge, all the doors appear to be sealed against potential vandals... and ghostly explorers. The veranda that used to front the hotel no longer has a roof, and the area that gapes is at the level of the second floor. Being a mistress of detail, I stopped to look in every window, noticing all that was there, and hoping to discover things that were not.
Peering in the window of the great room that joins the turret of the hotel, I heard a noise and saw a door swing open. I was overjoyed that T had found a way in and we would be able to explore all the mystique of this lovely building. Surprisingly, as I rounded the turret there was T crashing out of the bushes. I was stunned. I told him I was certain he had gotten inside because of the door opening. Not so Beanie boy. This was the first strange happening of our adventure.
We continued to circle the building, checking doors and windows, with Rowdy the Wonder Dog following on our heels. The owners will be happy to know how secure everything still is! At last we came to a porch on the rear of the building, which is the entry to the kitchen. Beneath this porch we found a wooden panel that was open. This entry led under the hotel and into a maintenance area next to the basement which provides access to plumbing and wiring.
When I walked into this area, Rowdy would not follow me. He stayed at the door and growled nervously. When I turned back to approach him he attempted to lead me away from the hotel. He was leaving and trying to get me to follow. Sadly for him I am far more persistent about exploring than he is about leaving. We picked him up and carried him, thereby ensuring his compliance and providing a measure of safety for him.
Lo and behold, in the maintenance cellar we found the entry to the grand adventure! Unfortunately, as with all stories, there is always a catch. The opening was the size of an old basement window, which scarcely allowed passage of the smaller female frame. Needless to say it was a tight fit.
Not one to be daunted, and after much finagling, I finally managed to get my feet through (with the support of T's broad back), and lower myself to the basement floor several feet below. Now it was T's turn. Did I mention that it barely allowed a smaller female frame? Well, T, being a manly man, does not have a small female frame. He just wasn't going to be able to fit his broad chest through that small opening... and we didn't have any bear grease. I was on my own, much to T's dismay. With a promise that I would only search for a door that I might be able to open for him, I ventured off to see what I could see. Giving him assurances (yes, he is a little overprotective) that I would not go very far, I began my systematic search of the hotel basement. I observed the old stonework of the original building, the many rooms with old plumbing parts and other old appliances, the muddy dirt floors, and I found a couple of well-secured doors.
Heading deeper into this basement area I noticed a chair perched underneath an old pipe that had been partially pulled down. My immediate thought was of the movie "The Bone Collector", where the victims are secured to pipes in the old subway tunnels and left to die. Yes, creepy! I refused to let my imagination create something sinister from an old chair and broken pipe and so I pressed on. Following a circuitous route, I finally found an open door... into the hotel proper. I recognized the area from our explorations outside, noting items that I had observed through windows earlier.
Keep in mind that T and Mr. Rowdy are still outside, and I am alone in a purportedly haunted hotel. OK, you might say. So what? My point exactly. I don't believe that ghosts intend to hurt us, merely get our attention. (Although, I do have to say that if I were to come back as a ghost I would probably get much amusement from scaring the doodoo out of people.) Needless to say, I continued my search for a door that would open so that T and I could explore together. I proceeded around the river side of the building, which holds a large open dining area and a windowed hallway also used for dining, and offered the fabulous views of the valley below.
Sadly, not one of the doors would open, despite my persistence. Keeping in mind my promise to T, I headed back to the basement and left exploring the hotel for another time when we could both be there. Just before I passed through the basement door, I glanced to the left and noticed a small stair - about three steps, which led to the room I would walk beneath. Giving a heavy sigh at the possibilities, I stepped through the basement door headed back to my waiting escorts. I hadn't taken more than two steps when suddenly I heard footsteps on the floor above me. I immediately froze and listened. There were exactly three very solid thuds - like a hard-soled boot or shoe walking slowly. Just three. No more.
I remember I felt very matter of fact about it. Very pleased that I had heard something. But, remember that chair and the pipe? Well, what if it wasn't a ghost that I heard? What if I wasn't alone in the building? T is on the other side of a wall behind a window he can't fit through, and Rowdy the Wonder dog wouldn't be much defense against a two-legged predator. That stairway was only 5 feet from the door behind me. Hmmmm. Remember earlier when I sad I am not one to throw all caution to the wind? I decided that, in the interest of safety, it would be best for me to make my departure expeditiously. I did not run, but walked at a steady pace with my senses tuned to any noise or movement behind me. And believe it or not, I did not turn around to see if anyone was there. I continued winding my way back to T, surprising myself by finding my way without error.
When I saw T and Rowdy, I couldn't contain my excitement any longer. I was bursting with the report of hearing footsteps. Once again we attempted to find an entry for T to join me. Sadly, it was not to be, and so with much effort and assistance I clambered back through the window, leaving further Ghostly explorings for another day.
Reluctantly we left the Hotel behind, and drove off in search of other spectral events. We decided to walk around the town and just enjoy the atmosphere and lights on this lovely Christmas night. We parked next to St. Peter's, and walked down to the veranda in front of the Church entrance. The lights on the veranda, as well as the front of the church, were still on when we arrived. There was also a small glowing Christmas tree in the corner, paying homage to the holiday. We stood enjoying the peaceful balmy night, discussing the towns violent past.
T was a wonderful tour guide as we read historic signs, looked at old architecture, visited Hog Alley, and kept our senses open to possibilities. We did note that the "Bloody steps" had wet shoe prints on them, even though no one was around but us. They could have been left earlier by someone passing and stepping into the small pockets of water on the steps. We did note though that our own shoe prints did not remain as distinctly evident as those we saw. This still could be because we didn't get into as much water.
After our brief walking tour we returned to the patio in front of St. Peters Church. Here we discovered that the lights on the front of the church were now out. Perhaps on a timer somewhere? We sat on a bench to the side of the veranda, and spoke of the past, the future, the possibilities. At some point I became aware that I had tingling on my arms, and we seemed to be experiencing a pocket of coldness, even though the night remained unseasonably warm. Sadly, we had no sightings of spectral priests or of dying Civil War soldiers. Perhaps another day besides Christmas is more suited to the ghosts of the past.
We shall return to Harpers Ferry, and to Hilltop House Hotel. We shall keep you posted and if you, dear reader, should happen to visit Harpers Ferry, please share any events you may experience yourself.
Blessings and Happy Hauntings,
Llynn
In order for our readers to get a feel for the places we explore, we shall try to share a little of the history. This is T's baby so I will let him regale you with all that he knows about the area. And since I have already heard this once, I think I'll go and fix us a snack while he fills you in on the story of John Brown, the Civil War battles, Hog alley, the Bloody stairs, and the old Priest of St. Peters Church.
T:
John Brown led a failed raid of 21 men against the Federal Armory in Harpers Ferry on October 16th, 1859. His attack on the arsenal was but one of many of his efforts in his fight against slavery. He was arrested for inciting treason against the Commonwealth of Virginia, and was hung in Charlestown, (West) Virginia December 2nd, 1859. He is said to be seen still walking the streets of Harpers Ferry. Visitors who purported to have seen his ghost claimed that at first they thought he was a Civil War era reenactor. That first impression disappeared quickly when Brown disappeared also.
Hog Alley... well, as might be expected from the name this is not a pretty story (no offense to pigs). During John Brown’s raid on Harpers Ferry, one of only five colored folk in his band of raiders, Dangerfield Newby, was shot through the neck, and died instantly. Being as bullets were scarce in town, despite the fact that a U.S. armory was located there, Newby was not hit by a ball of lead but by a six-inch spike fired from a rifle. OUCH. The townsfolk were already riled-up at the deaths of some of their family and friends by the raiders. When Newby fell his body was repeatedly stabbed, then dismembered, and his parts were tossed into a dirt alleyway where they were mostly devoured by hogs. Sightings of Dangerfield Newby’s ghost abound. He is seen at various times, missing various body parts. ouch-ouch.
The alleyway is now a paved roadway connecting High Street with Potomac Street. It has a street sign which vanishes from time-to-time - not because of any hauntings, but at the hands of people wanting a souvenir of this tainted area. After all, one doesn’t see a ‘Hog Alley’ all that often.
As for Civil War battles in Harpers Ferry, both the North and South discovered that the town was hard to hold once captured. Surrounded by mountains, the town was a sitting duck for cannons placed high on the ridges. Unless an army controlled the countryside for miles in all directions, Harpers Ferry was a slippery prize, indeed, and it changed hands many times during the Civil War. Many soldiers lost their lives there... right in town.
That brings us to the Bloody Steps and St. Peters Catholic Church. During some of the battles in and around Harpers Ferry, the wounded were carried up the stone steps leading from lower town to St. Peters, about two fifths the way to the top of the hill. The church was used as a military hospital, and was a place that witnessed much agony and death within it's walls. The blood from wounded soldiers flowed onto the steps as they were carried up to the church. Some claim the steps still bear the bloody stains. St. Peter's Church avoided being bombarded during these conflicts because of the tactics of Father Costello. He raised the British flag above the church’s steeple. Uncertain whether the church was really on British-owned land, the encroaching armies decided to leave the building in one piece, as neither side wanted to instigate England to aid their enemy.
St. Peters Catholic Church and the Bloody Steps have been the location of numerous sightings. One very oft-told encounter is of a priest walking down the hill from the rectory. He seems normal in almost every way, until he is seen turning towards the church, walking across thin air, and passes through the wall of the building. It is rumored there was a door there, prior to a restoration in the late 1800s, and the priest is still using it to this day.
All the events listed above are not relegated to nocturnal hours, but occur almost anytime, night or day. The whole town of Harpers Ferry is said to be haunted, with volumes of ghost stories (and quaint and forgotten lore as well) which are too numerous for this post. It’s a veritable gold mine of spooks and chills. With its violent history I can certainly see why.
Anyway, this particular post presents a night-time visit to the historic and haunted, Hilltop House Hotel, perched precariously atop a ridge above town overlooking the Potomac and Shenandoah Rivers. The hotel was originally built in 1888, and has been a favorite place of many famous people. A fire in the early part of the 1900s resulted in the deaths of two guests. This is fact, not legend. The rooms above the kitchen area (where the fire began) have been reported to be haunted ever since the fire. I have personally witnessed supernatural occurrences in those rooms, while staying there as a guest .
The hotel is presently closed for renovations and parts of the building gape open, covered with only a tarp to protect the interior from the elements. It is anybody’s guess when it will re-open, although the website says it is closed indefinitely. This is a much-beloved building and so the contractors seem to be treading carefully, as the eyes of the local population both living and dead are watching them.
It's just a fantastic place... ghosts or no ghosts. I've stayed there many times, and it will be a happy day when I can once again walk into the old lobby, sit myself down right in front of the fireplace, and let the atmosfear soak-in. A happy day indeed.
Well, the snacks are here, so I’ll turn things back over to our hostess. Before leaving, I just want to remind everyone that there is much history about Harpers Ferry to be found online, in libraries, and by visiting this wonderful place. Oh, and there is a cemetery at the top of the hill above town which has its own stories available. From top-to-bottom, Harper's Ferry... chills for everyone.
Llynn:
I should take this moment to introduce our last ghost explorer, Rowdy the Wonder Dog. He looks like a dust mop, and weighs about as much as a squirrel. But let me tell you he has attitude. He is part Maltese - which is where he gets his good looks, and part Chihuahua - which is where he gets the attitude! Rowdy accompanies us on many of our adventures, although when the circumstance is physically dangerous, he has to wait in the car. Don't worry, he gets his favorite snacks for his patience and, being a small dog with attitude, he would rather travel than wait at home.
At Hilltop House Hotel there is a tree-lined walkway along the end of the bluff that provides a view of the valley and rivers below. It is a place where people go to stroll, walk their dogs, make out, etc. When we arrived in the parking lot of Hotel, there was one other vehicle already parked there. I am not one to throw all caution to the wind, and so we waited until the other car left before we began our explorations. We spent about a half hour or so wandering around the newer section of the hotel, called the Lodge. We looked at the state of the building, the fixtures in need of repairs, the detritus left behind by other corporeal visitors, and the old furniture stored in one of the lobby areas.
I tend to notice the nuances of the architecture, as well as all that has suffered neglect over the years. We also noted that behind the Lodge a large tree has fallen against the building, although it does not appear to have caused any damage.
The guestrooms of the Lodge run at an angle away from the main area, which was once called the Annex. This wing consists of two floors of rooms which have both a front and back door, with covered breezeways on both sides of the building. The doors of the guestrooms are screwed shut, probably to prohibit vandals from wreaking havoc. There is also a maintenance area below the rooms which seems to be a local hangout, based on the number of empties that have accumulated down there. On the upper level we found another small maintenance closet at the far end of the wing. Inside this is an access door to the attic area above the rooms. The panel for this access has been removed, but we were reluctant to attempt climbing up through it. Besides the possible wild life that might be in there, I did not want to witness what damage has potentially been done to the structure. We did not notice any events at this newer building, although there are rumors of Civil War Era soldiers patrolling the road between the two buildings.
After perusing the Lodge area, we decided it was time to head to the grand Hotel and see if we could "scare anything up". We circled the main Hotel but, like the Lodge, all the doors appear to be sealed against potential vandals... and ghostly explorers. The veranda that used to front the hotel no longer has a roof, and the area that gapes is at the level of the second floor. Being a mistress of detail, I stopped to look in every window, noticing all that was there, and hoping to discover things that were not.
Peering in the window of the great room that joins the turret of the hotel, I heard a noise and saw a door swing open. I was overjoyed that T had found a way in and we would be able to explore all the mystique of this lovely building. Surprisingly, as I rounded the turret there was T crashing out of the bushes. I was stunned. I told him I was certain he had gotten inside because of the door opening. Not so Beanie boy. This was the first strange happening of our adventure.
We continued to circle the building, checking doors and windows, with Rowdy the Wonder Dog following on our heels. The owners will be happy to know how secure everything still is! At last we came to a porch on the rear of the building, which is the entry to the kitchen. Beneath this porch we found a wooden panel that was open. This entry led under the hotel and into a maintenance area next to the basement which provides access to plumbing and wiring.
When I walked into this area, Rowdy would not follow me. He stayed at the door and growled nervously. When I turned back to approach him he attempted to lead me away from the hotel. He was leaving and trying to get me to follow. Sadly for him I am far more persistent about exploring than he is about leaving. We picked him up and carried him, thereby ensuring his compliance and providing a measure of safety for him.
Lo and behold, in the maintenance cellar we found the entry to the grand adventure! Unfortunately, as with all stories, there is always a catch. The opening was the size of an old basement window, which scarcely allowed passage of the smaller female frame. Needless to say it was a tight fit.
Not one to be daunted, and after much finagling, I finally managed to get my feet through (with the support of T's broad back), and lower myself to the basement floor several feet below. Now it was T's turn. Did I mention that it barely allowed a smaller female frame? Well, T, being a manly man, does not have a small female frame. He just wasn't going to be able to fit his broad chest through that small opening... and we didn't have any bear grease. I was on my own, much to T's dismay. With a promise that I would only search for a door that I might be able to open for him, I ventured off to see what I could see. Giving him assurances (yes, he is a little overprotective) that I would not go very far, I began my systematic search of the hotel basement. I observed the old stonework of the original building, the many rooms with old plumbing parts and other old appliances, the muddy dirt floors, and I found a couple of well-secured doors.
Heading deeper into this basement area I noticed a chair perched underneath an old pipe that had been partially pulled down. My immediate thought was of the movie "The Bone Collector", where the victims are secured to pipes in the old subway tunnels and left to die. Yes, creepy! I refused to let my imagination create something sinister from an old chair and broken pipe and so I pressed on. Following a circuitous route, I finally found an open door... into the hotel proper. I recognized the area from our explorations outside, noting items that I had observed through windows earlier.
Keep in mind that T and Mr. Rowdy are still outside, and I am alone in a purportedly haunted hotel. OK, you might say. So what? My point exactly. I don't believe that ghosts intend to hurt us, merely get our attention. (Although, I do have to say that if I were to come back as a ghost I would probably get much amusement from scaring the doodoo out of people.) Needless to say, I continued my search for a door that would open so that T and I could explore together. I proceeded around the river side of the building, which holds a large open dining area and a windowed hallway also used for dining, and offered the fabulous views of the valley below.
Sadly, not one of the doors would open, despite my persistence. Keeping in mind my promise to T, I headed back to the basement and left exploring the hotel for another time when we could both be there. Just before I passed through the basement door, I glanced to the left and noticed a small stair - about three steps, which led to the room I would walk beneath. Giving a heavy sigh at the possibilities, I stepped through the basement door headed back to my waiting escorts. I hadn't taken more than two steps when suddenly I heard footsteps on the floor above me. I immediately froze and listened. There were exactly three very solid thuds - like a hard-soled boot or shoe walking slowly. Just three. No more.
I remember I felt very matter of fact about it. Very pleased that I had heard something. But, remember that chair and the pipe? Well, what if it wasn't a ghost that I heard? What if I wasn't alone in the building? T is on the other side of a wall behind a window he can't fit through, and Rowdy the Wonder dog wouldn't be much defense against a two-legged predator. That stairway was only 5 feet from the door behind me. Hmmmm. Remember earlier when I sad I am not one to throw all caution to the wind? I decided that, in the interest of safety, it would be best for me to make my departure expeditiously. I did not run, but walked at a steady pace with my senses tuned to any noise or movement behind me. And believe it or not, I did not turn around to see if anyone was there. I continued winding my way back to T, surprising myself by finding my way without error.
When I saw T and Rowdy, I couldn't contain my excitement any longer. I was bursting with the report of hearing footsteps. Once again we attempted to find an entry for T to join me. Sadly, it was not to be, and so with much effort and assistance I clambered back through the window, leaving further Ghostly explorings for another day.
Reluctantly we left the Hotel behind, and drove off in search of other spectral events. We decided to walk around the town and just enjoy the atmosphere and lights on this lovely Christmas night. We parked next to St. Peter's, and walked down to the veranda in front of the Church entrance. The lights on the veranda, as well as the front of the church, were still on when we arrived. There was also a small glowing Christmas tree in the corner, paying homage to the holiday. We stood enjoying the peaceful balmy night, discussing the towns violent past.
T was a wonderful tour guide as we read historic signs, looked at old architecture, visited Hog Alley, and kept our senses open to possibilities. We did note that the "Bloody steps" had wet shoe prints on them, even though no one was around but us. They could have been left earlier by someone passing and stepping into the small pockets of water on the steps. We did note though that our own shoe prints did not remain as distinctly evident as those we saw. This still could be because we didn't get into as much water.
After our brief walking tour we returned to the patio in front of St. Peters Church. Here we discovered that the lights on the front of the church were now out. Perhaps on a timer somewhere? We sat on a bench to the side of the veranda, and spoke of the past, the future, the possibilities. At some point I became aware that I had tingling on my arms, and we seemed to be experiencing a pocket of coldness, even though the night remained unseasonably warm. Sadly, we had no sightings of spectral priests or of dying Civil War soldiers. Perhaps another day besides Christmas is more suited to the ghosts of the past.
We shall return to Harpers Ferry, and to Hilltop House Hotel. We shall keep you posted and if you, dear reader, should happen to visit Harpers Ferry, please share any events you may experience yourself.
Blessings and Happy Hauntings,
Llynn
Friday, January 20, 2012
Is it real or is it imagination?
We would like to start our Blog by giving you a little bit of information about who we are and why we are bothering to write at all. Who really cares what exploring we do, or what comes of it?
Well, actually, there are a lot of people who have interest in the paranormal and who pursue opportunities for ghostly encounters. Haven't you always wondered just a little about ghosts? Are they real? Are they imagination? How does anyone really ever know unless they adventure into those places that might increase their chance of a paranormal encounter.
We don't claim to be ghost hunters or adventurers. We are just everyday people with everyday jobs who like to seek out opportunities for ghostly encounters.
When we decided we wanted to create a record of our outings, we talked about developing a website where we could share our experiences with others who have the same interests. We discussed the fact that a blog may give us that same benefit, without the difficulty that can arise from trying to maintain a hobbyist website. We would rather just tell you about the fun we are having instead.
First let us say that not every outing becomes a paranormal adventure. We don't go out and say "Hey, lets go meet some ghosts today." Far from it. Typically we discuss the possibilities for places to explore, and then decide where we are going based on time, distance, and sometimes even potential for encounters - or perhaps known history of paranormal events.
Secondly, let us assure you that we DO NOT go into someplace and start putting on a show about what we are experiencing. Neither of us is going to say, "I feel like I am getting something. Is there someone trying to talk to us?" Nope. Too much drama. Or is it plain BS?
We are just down to earth folks who want to know - is it real or is it imagination. My name is LLynn and I have to say that I am still undecided, although recent events have left me thrilled at the possibilities. We shall endeavor to share these Paranormal exploring in a credible and undramatic fashion. We will both share the writings, and give our individual perspectives of what we thought, saw, felt, or heard during our outings. So far there hasn't been any fear in our adventures, except the fear of getting arrested!
We welcome feedback from all of you Ghostly Explorers and ask that you keep it friendly here. We don't ask that you believe, just that you keep an open mind. We don't claim to be professionals. We just want to have fun, and share our events with all of you. Please remember that we would like to keep this a family friendly site, so if you have a disturbing event you would like to share please email us directly. We will attempt to respond to all sincere messages. And if this site offends you please skip us in the future.
Thanks for reading,
Well, actually, there are a lot of people who have interest in the paranormal and who pursue opportunities for ghostly encounters. Haven't you always wondered just a little about ghosts? Are they real? Are they imagination? How does anyone really ever know unless they adventure into those places that might increase their chance of a paranormal encounter.
We don't claim to be ghost hunters or adventurers. We are just everyday people with everyday jobs who like to seek out opportunities for ghostly encounters.
When we decided we wanted to create a record of our outings, we talked about developing a website where we could share our experiences with others who have the same interests. We discussed the fact that a blog may give us that same benefit, without the difficulty that can arise from trying to maintain a hobbyist website. We would rather just tell you about the fun we are having instead.
First let us say that not every outing becomes a paranormal adventure. We don't go out and say "Hey, lets go meet some ghosts today." Far from it. Typically we discuss the possibilities for places to explore, and then decide where we are going based on time, distance, and sometimes even potential for encounters - or perhaps known history of paranormal events.
Secondly, let us assure you that we DO NOT go into someplace and start putting on a show about what we are experiencing. Neither of us is going to say, "I feel like I am getting something. Is there someone trying to talk to us?" Nope. Too much drama. Or is it plain BS?
We are just down to earth folks who want to know - is it real or is it imagination. My name is LLynn and I have to say that I am still undecided, although recent events have left me thrilled at the possibilities. We shall endeavor to share these Paranormal exploring in a credible and undramatic fashion. We will both share the writings, and give our individual perspectives of what we thought, saw, felt, or heard during our outings. So far there hasn't been any fear in our adventures, except the fear of getting arrested!
We welcome feedback from all of you Ghostly Explorers and ask that you keep it friendly here. We don't ask that you believe, just that you keep an open mind. We don't claim to be professionals. We just want to have fun, and share our events with all of you. Please remember that we would like to keep this a family friendly site, so if you have a disturbing event you would like to share please email us directly. We will attempt to respond to all sincere messages. And if this site offends you please skip us in the future.
Thanks for reading,
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