I’ve always believed it’s possible that ghosts might exist in some fashion. Not the whole ectoplasmic, Ghost-buster type. That’s a little too ridiculous, even for me. But the idea that those who have passed can also exist our world seems perfectly logical. And after spending an extended period of time on the property in Virginia, I decided it was more than just a possibility. And I wasn’t the only one who had reached that conclusion.
There were already tons of stories about the area. When you cram that much history into a relatively small space, folk-lore abounds. A couple of hunters claimed to have seen a Civil War soldier wandering in the woods. I was assured it wasn’t the result of a twelve-pack of beer and a hard fall from a deer stand, but I have no way to back that up. A group of teenagers swore the trails had disappeared and reappeared while they were hiking. Again, whether a twelve-pack of beer was involved or perhaps they were smoking a bit of locally grown dried plant matter–your guess is as good as mine. A neighbor said that when doing some cabinet work for Mary he left the room to get a hammer to hammer out the hinges. When he returned, the hinges were all out. This one I believe. The next not so much. A woman who lived a little ways down the mountain claimed that her property was the center of a spiritual vortex and set up some kind of a new-age personal retreat on her land. I don’t doubt her because I’m not open to the idea of a spiritual vortex, but because the woman was an uptight, crabby old biddy who wouldn’t recognize a spiritual phenomena if it bit her in the arse.
Perhaps he was out there all along and I just didn’t see him.
My experiences were a little different. I can’t say that I had any trails disappear on me because I have no sense of direction and know not to go hiking in the first place. However, if I had gone hiking, I might have run across the wandering Civil War soldier and I would have given almost anything to see something that cool. I also didn’t get help with my carpentry work or experience the wonders of a spiritual vortex. My experiences weren’t that awesome. They weren’t even scary. They were ANNOYING.
Whoever/whatever it was seemed determined to make my life harder–as if things weren’t already difficult enough. It liked to moved things around. After looking at the pictures, you may wonder how I could even tell. At first, I couldn’t. But after we’d made some inroads into the mess, it became pretty obvious that someone was messing with us. We would clear a pathway through a room and the next day it would be blocked. I’d empty out a box and when I’d come back to it, it would be full again. By the second week, I was hearing footsteps upstairs after it got dark. When I would go up to see what it was, the sounds would stop. I’d come back downstairs and they would start again. I know it wasn’t my imagination because we had two dogs and they would go nuts when the footsteps started. At night I would turn the lights upstairs off and in the morning they would all be on. I didn’t realize apparitions experienced night blindness, but I guess our visitor(s) needed to see what they were doing while they tried their best to piss me off.
I’m not sure why I wasn’t scared. Probably because I was too exhausted and too stressed to react. Also, my son was scared enough for both of us. At first, he wouldn’t go upstairs by himself and when I would go up with him, the hair would literally stand up on his arms. After a while, he refused to go upstairs, period. Even my step-daughter, who had been out there when my mother-in-law passed, got scared in the same room that freaked our son out and she’s more level-headed than most.
We didn’t keep very much of what we uncovered in Mary’s house and it’s probably a good thing. Accidents seemed to follow what we brought home. I managed to fall into the walnut secretary that had belonged to her and break my arm. We put the big mirror she’d had in her dining room over our bed and woke one night to the sound of it crashing and breaking into a zillion pieces. Fortunately, it fell behind the headboard. If it had fallen in front, it would have likely decapitated us. The strange thing was, the anchor was still secure in the wall and the wire on the back of the mirror was intact. A ceramic (and supposedly fireproof) candle holder caught fire and burned up the top of a small chest that we kept. I almost sliced my finger off trying to scrape the old finish off a table that had been in her kitchen. The bell we brought back fell and missed hitting our yard guy by only a few inches. Then some of the things we’d carted home started to disappear–a ring, baseball cards, old coins, my husband’s stamp collection, a box of pocket watches, photos. And I won’t even go into the bizarre circumstances we had to overcome when we tried to sell the property.
Perhaps the culprit(s) finally got tired of it all and left, but for whatever reason, the accidents and disappearances have stopped. Knock on wood. I have to confess that I do keep a rather dark looking aerial print of the Virginia house turned against the wall because I’m afraid if I put it up, things will start all over again. Call me superstitious, but there’s no sense in taking any chances…
Are you a believer in the supernatural or is it all just BS? Let me know what you think!
Now, on to more inappropriate advertising…
A fun gift idea for that next baby shower you’re invited to.
A recently discovered photo of Lizzie Borden.
HAVE A SAFE AND HAPPY WEEK!