New Book!

12 Dec

I am writing a new book–a supernatural psycho-thriller!  A little test-marketing is in order before I unleash it upon an unsuspecting public, so I’m posting some of the chapters first; “blogging-a-book” if you will.  As a reader, I’d like to get your opinion as I go, so there’s a rating widget and a very short poll at the bottom.  I would appreciate your responses when you’re done.

Also, a note on another approach I’m experimenting with: associating verse and music with each chapter.  If you click on the chapter title, you’ll land on the Amazon page (or equivalent) for the song that goes with the verse below it.  You should be able to listen to a sample of the song on the Amazon page, then if you like it, download it for 99 cents!  Give a listen to the whole song before you read the chapter just to get in the mood.  Try it.  Its cool!–  Paul Hill


 

Chapter 1

Madonna on the Curb

On the curb of a city pavement, by the ash and garage cans,
In the stench of rolling thunder of motor trucks and vans,

There sits a little lady with brave but troubled eyes,
And in her arms a baby that cries and cries and cries.

She cannot be more than three, but the years go fast in the slums,
And hard on the pangs of winter’s cold, the pitiless summer comes.

from MADONNA ON THE CURB—Woody Guthrie

 LOCATION: Interstate 40 Eastbound-Rest Area E of Gallup, NM-just W of the Continental Divide

Odessa Kearney was born on the West Side of Chicago in the 1950’s to no particular fanfare. Piloting an 18 wheeler was not something every little girl wanted to do at the time she grew up, but thirty-four years after her infatuation with a matchbook cover and many wrong turns later, Odessa now resisted sleep. “LEARN TO DRIVE THE BIG RIGS” the matches had advised. The message must have had its subliminal effect, as that’s what she eventually did, beginning a journey that pre-paralleled the wanderings of this metal beast now enveloping her like some inscrutable cocoon.

With the sun disappearing at her back, the eighteen identical wheels plodded monotonously along the highway when a familiar green sign came into view and reflected back…REST AREA 2 MILES.  She let off the gas, shifted down, and two minutes later deftly slid the grateful rig off the Interstate and into the refuge. Quietly, she dimmed the lights and joined the herd getting ready to sleep. Squirming into a good spot close to the facilities, she didn’t care if she was between the lines. It was late, and the advancing darkness matched her state of mind.

Random thoughts rushed around her head. She thought about walking away from her marriage. Could she have run over that guy at the loading dock? Would she ever get abducted by aliens?

Though momentarily energized by these unanticipated sprouts of fear, she realized she was guilty of unpoliced thinking. Self consciously releasing her grip on the wheel, she put her hands in her pockets and settled in to collect herself. After a minute of staring into her reflection in the side window, she doused the engine, turned off the interior lights and climbed into the bed in back. Simply too tired, she postponed the obligatory trip to the women’s room. She could wait till morning. Stretching out like a cat, the long distance driver drifted off.

Odessa’s eyes danced beneath her lids as a dream conjured up a confused montage of childhood memories. She was back in first grade at Our Lady of Grace, and in the classroom crowded with her peers she was delightfully chasing a boy, her first boy friend. As they playfully ran around the diminutive chairs and desks, Sister Theresa’s dark form dutifully intruded between them.

Stop running!” she screamed. She looked at Odessa as if she was about to save her from Satan. “Leave that boy alone. It’s against the Church!”

Odessa awoke at that instant, harboring a residue of guilt from the dream-nun’s admonition. Growing up Irish Catholic in the 50’s in Chicago left its mark. She remembered how to diagram sentences and multiply triple digit numbers without a calculator, but the feelings transferred by the good sisters were also still with her. “Damn her!” she exclaimed to herself. But the curse failed to expel the demon, and her discomfort lingered into her waking state. She wondered why.

A vague anxiety filled the cab.

The year is 2012, and she is in a truck in the American Southwest somewhere along one of the Interstate “superhighways’ that President Eisenhower built five decades earlier, far from the busy streets of Chicago that had to be safely crossed by small children learning how traffic lights worked and why cars and trucks sped carelessly by. It was her cradle of civilization where she learned not just the 3 R’s from the nuns, but also about the Boogeyman from her older brother.

It’s 4:32 a.m., and looking out the windshield, she notices a figure standing in the shadows next to the men’s room entrance. He is wearing a cap and overalls, the kinds you’d see a mechanic wearing after an especially dirty job. Under the dirt was probably faded orange. His darkened face was obscured by a full and scraggily beard. Untrimmed and unkempt hair stuck out front his cap. He just stood there, an odd combination of man and building where people usually scurried in and out hurriedly. Then his eyes caught hers.

A few seconds of mutual staring passed. Not wishing to confront this disturbing image further, Odessa climbed behind the wheel, cranked up the Detroit Diesel power plant, slipped it into first gear with a crunch, and pulled out. When she glanced back at the building, the apparition was gone. What remained was a feeling of dread, and a vivid memory of someone who scared her far more than the Sisters of Fear ever did.


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All posts on this blog are written and owned by Paul Hill,
Copyright 2010-2014    
All Rights Reserved

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Vision of a Massacre

26 Nov

Outside, among the hills.  There, down in the valleys.  Up in our standing brothers, the trees.  Sometimes horrible events are recorded onto the landscape of where they occurred.  One can sense the story they tell us from years or centuries before.  Places like the mining settlement of Ludlow, Colorado; the battlegrounds of Gettysburg, the dry-then-frozen hills of Wounded Knee, the camps hidden in Nazi-occupied Poland and the villages lost in France, the beaches of Okinawa in Japan, the equatorial highlands of Rwanda, the tropical killing fields of Cambodia, or even Donner Pass in the mountains of Utah–all have born witness and speak to us still.  The ghosts that inhabit these places and others like them still vibrate with the evils committed there…the outcome of battles, mass executions, genocides, murders, massacres and exterminations–violent death on a massive scale producing hauntings in equal parts.

forsaleThey are a permanent part of the past still growing with newly-tainted places like those being spawned in the deserts of Iraq and Syria.

One part of this dark past is the site of the Sand Creek Massacre.  Its a relatively flat piece of the high arid desert of southeast Colorado in the American outback.

November 29th is the 150th Anniversary of that event.  In 1864, the territorial Governor and his minions sought to eliminate the “threat” of Arapahoe and Cheyenne native Americans living on the these dry plains.  Using propaganda techniques practiced by some of today’s religious extremists, they planned and succeeded in exterminating these tribes from those lands not just to insure the “safety” of their own settlers, but to do it in the name of their religion.

____________________________________________________

Damn any man who sympathizes with Indians! … I have come to kill Indians, and believe it is right and honorable to use any means under God’s heaven to kill Indians. … Kill and scalp all, big and little; nits make lice.

Col. John Milton Chivington  [quote from Dee Brown,”War Comes to the Cheyenne”-Bury My Heart at Wounded Knee]
________________________________________________________

Colonel Chivington was also a leading minister of his church.  Invoking the name of God, he and his troops were directly responsible for the massacre that killed and mutilated almost 200 Indians, about two-thirds of whom were women and children.  We don’t need to detail the atrocities here, as they are well-documented elsewhere.  They were some of the worst ever recorded in the annals of human history.

The perpetrators of crimes against humanity often justify their actions in terms of their spiritual superiority, but their real motivation may simply be to steal land and acquire political and economic power.

Almost a century and a half later a woman named Karen visited this place, but not to conquer, impose her religion, or steal land.  There was no one left to kill, enslave, or take from, as the original inhabitants were long gone, at least in the mortal sense.  Instead she came to pay her respects to what she knew about the tragedy that happened there.  Karen was not your typical visitor.  She is clairvoyant–a “seer” of the past and present.  She is one of those fortunate souls who can see what most others cannot, including the ghosts of the dead, the spirits of departed loved ones, and replays of events that have long since played.

She felt drawn to the site, and walked out onto the battlefield about 100 yards from the viewing area.  This was before the site managers put up a fence with signs telling visitors not to go there.  As she walked, she thought she heard voices.  Singing?  She continued on, and the sound morphed into the clatter of distant horses coming closer and closer.  Sitting down in the dirt, she caught out of the corner of her eye the silhouettes of men on horses in the fog of dust kicked up by their steeds.  They rode toward her and the flat field ahead, appearing not to notice her.

She felt compelled to look in the direction the riders were speeding toward, where she perceived the vague outlines of Indian tepees.  There were people both standing around and rushing in and out of their buffalo-hide lodges.  Some looked right through her and fixed on the riders coming out of the haze.  The adrenalin started to rise in Karen’s body, and a sudden jolt of fear seized her when she realized what was about to happen.  She knew the riders were intent on doing harm to the inhabitants of the settlement, with no hesitation and no offering of the chance to surrender.

A group of small children were lingering by the edge of the settlement as their panic-stricken mothers tried to round them up to hide them.  They knew what was coming.  The horse soldiers rode in, grabbing the little ones by their arms and lifting them up without even slowing down.  They proceeded to slam the poor children against rocks, one by one.  Not one of them survived.

Karen hid her face in her hands, unable to watch the spectacle any longer.  As she sat there unnoticed, the sounds stopped and all was unearthly quiet.  She looked up and again saw the field as empty as when she first saw it.  The event was over, and she slowly got up and returned to the viewing area.

Years later, Karen recollected…

Very hard n rough experience, but I will go back.
Grandmother (earth) n grandfather (sky) still hurt from it.

Postscript

On November 22nd, a group from Northwestern University in Evanston, Illinois held a ceremony on the shore of Lake Michigan to pay tribute to the victims of the Sand Creek Massacre.  My friend Rich was there.  I’ll let his words describe the event…

Hoka Hey! from the head heyoka!  

As you may know, John Evans was the founder of Evanston, Illinois.  He was also the co-founder of Northwestern University, the founder of the University of Denver, and the territorial governor and Superintendent of Indian Affairs of Colorado.  He was a Methodist like his friend, Colonel/Pastor John Chivington.

Current Native American students at NU have made the university appoint a task force to find ways to atone for their founder’s part in the massacre.  So today one of the events had native speakers with a tribute to the victims.  For the first time I really understood the native concept of time…that things that happened in the past are very close.  Things that happened 150 years ago happened yesterday.  The Red Line drummers from the American Indian Center sang several songs and we hiked out to the shoreline and built a giant bonfire while a priest read an account of the massacre.  The atrocities were unspeakable.

The amazing thing was that he started reading as they lit the fire, and as it took off the flames were 20 feet high!  I had positioned myself upwind and 15 or 20 feet away, and the heat was intense.  The fire perfectly mirrored the spoken account of the massacre, and as the speaker was finishing, it magically died down as he was relating the last few killings and the aftermath.  This fire had wood stacked up 4 feet high and at least 10 feet wide.  I couldn’t believe what I saw.  There was absolutely no way this synchronicity could have been planned.  

The entire experience was so emotional it was incredible.  Everyone was crying or holding back tears.  The Eagle Staff bearer thanked the Great Spirit for making it rain to hide our tears.  The Northwestern students made 200 pair of moccasins to line the walk across campus to the fire ring on the landfill near the shore.  I kept the child’s pair and left the adult pair I had as a tribute.  Amy West put her pair in the glowing coals as part of her prayer.  

You are absolutely right about the past being still with us.  I find it remarkable that almost all aboriginal people know, understand and deal with this. Western science is just starting to scratch at the edges of where the physical meets the metaphysical.  

Oh well, I have had moments of power from the Great Spirit during my lifetime, and we (you and I) will do the best we can as we begin to review the remaining days we have on Mother Earth.

 

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Copyright 2010-2014
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“The Fun of Staying in Touch”

1 Nov

Book Review by Paul Hill

How Our Loved Ones Contact Us and How We
Can Contact Them–
Roberta Grimes

Don’t let the title fool you. The Fun of Staying in Touch isn’t about your new bookcoversmartphone. The book’s subtitle, How Our Loved Ones Contact Us and How We Can Contact Them continues the theme of communication, but if you don’t venture beyond the cover, you wouldn’t know that the “loved ones” referred to are dead!  I’m not entirely sure being dead is “fun,” connected or not, or that talking to them is equally entertaining. But that’s what author Roberta Grimes is telling us. Her message seems to be that though life may not always be fun, the afterlife is–the dead are simply anxious to tell us about it.

This is the second in a trilogy about human transitions. The first was The Fun of Dying–Find Out What Really Happens Next!  The last in the series will be The Fun of Growing Forever. Roberta is a retired attorney, and given her occupation, I suspect she was strictly business. Nonetheless, she has spent her present life with an unusual interest in the afterlife. It began with her self-described “experiences of light,” first when she was only eight years old, then again at twenty–spiritual visitations that eventually changed her path in spite of hiding the events for many years.

Before we delve into the detail of her story, let’s ask some eternal questions…Is this a good read?  Do I have some issues with it?  The answers are yes and yes.

I should first point out for whom this book is suitable. Certainly not the professional nor armchair skeptic who will refuse to suspend their disbelief long enough to win a ticket to paradise. Its also not for the sympathetic reader who is looking for scientific or technical confirmation of what they suppose to be true. It is instead written for both the doubtful and true believers who need a good overview of the state of the art of afterlife communication.  As a paranormal investigator, I share Roberta’s interest in evidence that supports our belief in communicating with those in the afterlife. But I still have some ideological concerns; quite honestly the kind that may not matter to her readers.

I’ll offer more on my intramural nitpicking in a follow-up article, but let’s stick to this review for now and get some negatives out of the way first. I’ll pick on a few points that even a believer might find a little hard to swallow…

In Chapter 10, Roberta writes about a soul phone as a technological solution to the problem of talking with the dead, and a tipping point in the struggle to get the rest of the world on board. Should we invent this device, where we can unambiguously have a casual conversation with a departed loved one, the debunkers will have to take notice. But as a fairly tech-savvy civilian, I’m not aware of any piece of hardware in development that could ever facilitate such a feat. So I must remain skeptical and judge this as a theoretical event, one that if ever came to fruition would be more important than Alexander Graham Bell telling Watson to “come here…” on history’s first voice transmission, and only slightly less significant than a UFO landing on the White House lawn.

In this same context, Roberta also tells us that dead scientists are helping living researchers work this kind of stuff out. While this may be true, they’re sure not contacting me, so its a little hard to get my head around it. I’m reminded of the technical certainty of Sylvia Brown (whom I greatly respect) who in one of her books gave a detailed description of the environment of the afterlife, right down to where you put your car and get your parking ticket validated.

In both cases, I find these descriptions to be a bit over the top, and a distraction from the authors’ greater and better-expressed message about life with the dead. For the most part though, these speculations do not detract that much from an otherwise excellent fly-over of our loved ones’ terrain in the afterlife, conducted by a tour guide who has “been there” in the metaphysical sense. The author has bolstered my belief that communicating with our dead is part of the legacy of our creation, and as Roberta points out, the grand result of each of us being an undivided part of the Eternal Mind. Whether we acknowledge that or not, Roberta Grimes is spreading the Word.

 

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Portals

1 Oct

In both scientific and supernatural circles these days, much is made of the concept of “portals.”

The Ghost Adventures boys were convinced that the Bobby Mackey’s saloon in Kentucky had a portal to hell in the cellar…an old well where years ago the remains of a gruesome murder were dumped. Physicist Lisa Randall theorizes that portals to other dimensions really exist, and she is trying to find them using the world’s largest particle accelerator in Switzerland.  Many are convinced that Stonehenge in Britain is really a portal to both the past and future, as further encouraged by the recent archaeological discovery of more of the structure buried underneath the visible surface.

Just what is a portal? The dictionary defines it as a large door or gate to a building. The Internet has co-opted the word to mean a site serving as a guide or point of entry to the World Wide Web.

The paranormal community has adopted it to mean an entrance or exit to a world inhabited by supernatural beings. Demonologists believe such portals can be gateways to hell. In this context, portals can be literal doorways, as found in closets or basements. They can also be part of man-made underground features, the kind that exist in abandoned mines, old wells, or even sewer systems. But can they also be virtual doorways through an invisible boundary between dimensions?  

When Ghost Adventures investigated the Piotrowski house near Cripple Creek in Colorado not too long ago, the alleged paranormal messages they recorded spoke of the “underground,” and said “drain the well.” There was in fact an unexplained loss of huge amounts of water from their modern piped-in supply, but Dan was unable to pinpoint the cause even when it was investigated by the local water district. What could an old well have to do with a present-day piped-in community water system?

When Light in the Dark Paranormal visited the house, we spent considerable time in the basement where we communicated with an unknown entity. This was also where GA dug out the water heater* to reveal a buried box and other artifacts from a distant past.

We later recorded a strange EVP there that seemed to mimic the sound of that water heater being removed by GA months earlier (if anyone wants to hear this audio clip, leave me a comment below and I’ll publish it. Its very strange).

Was the basement or a hidden well in Dan Piotrowski’s house a portal to another dimension? If a well was dug in the 1800’s, or when the foundation was excavated to build the present house in the 1970’s, did one of them open a portal to evil?

We believe that the site was formerly that of a goat-rancher’s cabin in the 19th Century, as our research and EVP’s with that entity seemed to suggest. In those early days, folks had no piped-in water, and that precious liquid was obtained by hand-digging a deep hole in the ground until the water table was reached. Homes were often built right over these wells in order to make retrieval in the winter a manageable, non-freezing task. Today there are many old buildings with such abandoned wells, or newer houses built over the site of old wells.

How such wells could become portals to another dimension, diabolical or not, is the Big Question.

When people dig deep holes in the earth, can they be creating conduits for human souls or other subterannean entities to travel through? Jules Vern’s Journey to the Center of the Earth was the mid-nineteenth century classic that explored that concept among others. In that story, the explorers became hopelessly lost in an underground universe (hell?), only at the end to be ejected to the surface via an erupting volcano (resurrection?).

Notions of the afterlife begin deep in the ground for many religions. The ancient Greeks long believed in Hades, that underworld where the dead were escorted to their final rest or punishment, as the case might be. Many of us know all too well about the Christian belief in hell as a place of eternal damnation; somewhere “down there” from which there is no hope of escape. Hindus, though believers in cremation and the reincarnation of departed souls, do have a belief in both heavens and hells (somewhere in the “lower worlds”) as interim destinations before a soul returns to earth. While traditional native American tribes each have slightly differing beliefs about the afterlife, historic Utes in Colorado did bury their dead in rock-covered graves in the mountains, and were especially concerned about the comfort of the departed and the disposition of their surviving property. 

As different as these and other cosmologies are from each other, is bad always down and good always up?  Either way, do the dead use portals to proceed from life to afterlife? 

Back at the Piotrowski house: in addition to everything else, there was a tribal influence.  A Ute versus Comanche battlefield was just down the road, and it is possible that the Utes buried their war-dead up on the hill under where the house now stands. Were their energies released via a portal created from Dan’s basement or the goat-rancher’s well? Besides the Ute and the rancher, were there other entities there too? I must admit that my own perception of an “ancient one” scared me. My intuition told me that a very old spirit was watching us, wondering what we were up to.

Was it evil? I don’t know. But it was enough to make two of our investigators ill and retreat to the outside.

It may also have been the same “something” that drove Dan Piotrowski’s tenants to fear and anger; an inexplicable outcome that made it impossible for him to rent out that home again, eventually leading to its foreclosure.

If they truly exist, these portals may also allow access to beings who have no previous connection to the event site. Stories of “territorial” spirits persist…those who roam the land around a site using a portal to come and go.

What’s even scarier is what both demonologists and priests will tell you. Afterall, the one thing they have in common is their unequivocal belief in demons. Some contend that the Devil and his minions take advantage of hauntings, using portals to enter a site and pretend that they are ghosts! Now that is really insidious. Sometimes what is perceived as the ghost of a child may really be a demon impersonating one. What their intentions are using this charade, I’ll leave for your own speculation.

But if you’ve hung in with me so far, suspend your disbelief for one more paragraph…

What if over the millennia, powerful beings took up residence under our earth while our ancestors were still hunting wooly mammoths? What if their intentions toward us humans were not so nice, and what if they established conduits and pathways and portals back up to our world to do their work? What if over thousands of years different civilizations and cultures deified these creatures as evil gods in order to explain their sightings and influences?

What if they still walk beneath our feet?

It is the Halloween season, and part of my avocation as a paranormal investigator and writer is to give you a good scare right about now. So be afraid, and keep your portals closed…

Dan Piotrowski’s house was a great example of
a Haunted House for Sale in Colorado
what’s the connection to Halloween?


For ALL Light in the Dark Paranormal postings

(most recent at top), visit our home blog:
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 Visit our website:  http://www.lightinthedarkparanormal.com

 All posts on this blog are written and owned by Paul Hill,
Copyright 2010-2014
All Rights Reserved

*by the time you read this post, this Travel Channel video
may no longer be available.

Is Hell Really Down There Somewhere?

16 Sep
From time to time, I have some pretty interesting online conversations with Beverly. She has been communicating with the spirit world for some 35 years now, and publishes her own blog, Welcome to ghost talk blog  A forum for spiritual topics, spirit communication, Near Death Experiences, ghost stories, UFOs, and all things paranormal…Anyway, I think some of the comments we are trading back and forth on her blog (and hers on mine) might be of interest to our visitors here.  I urge you to visit her to read everything she writes about, which is extensive.  But here I can give you some tantalizing bits of conversation regarding various topics.  In this case, Bev wrote about a gentleman who had quite the experience with a demon. Here’s the most recent serve from my side of the court…

Bev, at your suggestion, I went back and read Sean’s personal accounts. He appears sincere and insightful, and I don’t doubt any of his stories. You ask if I have had any experience with investigations where there were no measurable results in spite of credible witnesses to the contrary? Luckily for our group, we have yet to have done an investigation where we didn’t have at least something to pore over. But I know of groups who have come away empty, even some of those seen on tv.

I think the explanation is this:  the manifestation of paranormal phenomenon is transient to be sure. It could be that on the particular night the investigation was done, the ghosts were busy elsewhere! One of the eternal questions about them is where the heck are they when they’re not present?

Here’s another take on this: if indeed perception of them depends on some person having some degree of clairvoyance or other such ability in order to experience the phenomenon, and if a typical ghost hunting group has no such person in it, then that may be why on occasion nothing is perceived or measured unless its “very present,” at least to their equipment. Most such groups I know of boast of having no psychics, sensitives, etc. in order to allegedly bolster their scientific objectivity. That’s nonsense, of course, as folks with abilities have long been the subject of scientific research going back to the 50’s (prior to that time, such people were seen in more of a theatrical context, like the seances popular in the 30’s & 40’s during the Spiritualist movement).

In Sean’s case, his investigators seem to have done a terrible job. Even if they found nothing, they should never have dismissed his experiences, and at the very least should have offered to come back another time. Perhaps they really did see something that scared their pants off and wanted to make a quick exit!

I could go on and on about things like portals, old wells and other subterranean doorways to strange worlds, but I’ll spare you. Is Hell really down there somewhere?

To catch up on where this all started, visit Bev’s recent post:  

Intervention With A Demon: A True Story

by ghostbusterbev

My next post:  Portals–demon gateways to hell or just dark scary places?

For ALL Light in the Dark Paranormal postings
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 Visit our website:  http://www.lightinthedarkparanormal.com

 All posts on this blog are written and owned by Paul Hill,
Copyright 2010-2014
All Rights Reserved

Hose Co. No.3 Fire Museum Investigation

6 Feb
the Museum

the Museum

Last Fall, we investigated what was once called Hose Company No. 3, an old firehouse in downtown Pueblo, Colorado.  Active for many years as a source of protection and informal community center for the city, it is now a museum dedicated to the life and memories of the brave firemen who worked there, including those who died in the line of duty.  Do their ghosts haunt their former workplace to this day?

One of our investigators is Terry Milsom, a former volunteer firefighter. He had suggested that we investigate the many strange goings-on reported at the Museum, and contacted curator Mark Pickerel, himself a Pueblo firefighter.  A few weeks later we arrived for our investigation, and Mark told us about the history of the station and the paranormal events that have occurred there.

Several other investigations have been done by different groups over the past few years, including the Haunted Collector folks.  Now it was our turn.  Rather than repeat what I have already written in our Field Report to Mark, what follows is an excerpt that cuts to the chase…

Discussion/Analysis of Investigation:

Weather and time of day had no influence on the investigation, but certain environmental conditions did. The building was half-surrounded by hi-tension power lines. Within15 feet of the north and east sides of the exterior walls these power sources were emitting heavy EMF radiation which penetrated the building interior as measured by our baseline sweep of the building. When we later took K2 readings in the UL bunkroom while trying to talk to whoever might have been there, we continued to get these same readings while close to the windows, but also slightly weaker readings in the more interior space of the room. These appeared to coincide with questions we were asking, but could have been the same random energy fluctuations from the power lines penetrating the room. Because of this electromagnetic field contamination, we have to disregard any other EMF readings captured in the building.

Also, we note that there was no other evidence of a paranormal presence in that particular room other than 2 EVP’s recorded there by Louise & Adrian. 3 more EVP’s were recorded elsewhere in the building.

Before we discuss these EVP’s in detail, let’s discuss other possible evidence. The video clips noted in #1 above we will dismiss as inconclusive, unless the host can give us an additional explanation or insight. Of the photos taken, none showed anything paranormal. What we’re left with are the EVP’s. But we also must note that considerable acoustic contamination (sound spillover) was an ongoing problem due to not only the traffic outside the front door, but the existence of the firepole toward the front interior. Since it had to run unobstructed from the UL down to the LL, there was a considerable “hole” in the floor so firemen could pass through it. This allowed sound from our team upstairs in the bunkroom to easily drift down to be heard by our team on the LL, and vice versa. This kind of spillover can easily contaminate the results of an audio recording (are we hearing a paranormal entity or us?).

While we dismiss any other video or EMF readings as inconclusive or the result of natural causes, we do maintain that the following EVP’s are evidence of possible paranormal phenomena.

EVP #1 (Class A): Toward the end of the investigation, Paul & Louise are downstairs near the firepole, recording both on audio and video in an attempt to contact whoever might be down there. Louise felt that there was. 1:24 into the audio track of the Pocket Cam video recorder carried by PH, we hear a faint but clear voice of a small child (boy?) saying Get Mom.

This seemed to be in response to Louise asking about the time where a mother brought her nearly drowned boy to the fire station for help, as the story goes. The boy died at the station. Louise said, “…over 100 years ago; just wondering what had happened.” Less than 10 sec later, we hear the EVP on the recorder which neither Louise nor Paul heard with their own ears.  Listen to EVP (you may want to use earphones; the EVP is clear but faint).

EVP #2 (Class A): On the same Pocket Cam session at 3:57, Paul asks if the “person” we were trying to talk to is the same person who Louise & Adrian contacted earlier upstairs in the bunkroom. No response was recorded on the Pocket Cam audio track. But on Louise’s audio recorder, which she was using at the same time standing next to Paul, one can clearly hear the response of “No” to his question.  Listen to EVP

EVP #3 (Class A): Earlier, in the bunkroom in the UL, Louise & Adrian were recording an attempt to contact whoever might have been in that room, using Louise’s recorder. Adrian is talking, and asks if the “person” would like them to stay and talk for awhile longer. An emphatic “No” is clearly heard.  Listen to EVP

EVP #4 (Class A): Later, towards the end of the investigation, Louise was by herself down in the LL. She had her recorder in the “ON/Voice Activated” mode, which means that the unit would start recording only when something was “heard” by the recorder. She was not talking to anyone, and noticed the voice activation light go “on” on the unit. She heard nothing herself, and about 4 sec later asked “Is there someone here?” When she reviewed this session later in the kitchen, she heard an unidentified voice starting the voice-activated part of the recording (when the light went on).It said “There’s someone here.” 4 sec later, she heard on the very next voice-activated recording her own voice asking “Is there someone here?” The first voice was definitely not Louise’s, nor was it Adrian’s who was not with her at the time. But it sounded like a woman’s voice.  Listen to EVP

EVP #5 (Class B): Louise and Adrian’s first session was carried out in the UL bunkroom. The audio recorder was on voice-activation, and when the question/answer session was reviewed, the very first word heard was “Dies!” in response to nothing said by the investigators. Though non-interactive, it was said in a clear, harsh male voice, and the meaning of this word could have been a noun rather than a verb, e.g., “Dyes,” if it was a proper name.  Listen to EVP
(the EVP is at the very beginning of the clip).

Summary

The “hotspots” in the Hose Co. #3 Fire Museum were near the firepole in the lower level and the bunkroom upstairs. Previous investigations and stories indicated that the Chief’s office and the top of the stairs had paranormal activity, but we noted none there on the night we investigated. The evidence we captured was strictly in the form of EVP’s (electronic voice phenomena) caught on our digital audio recordings, although there are other modalities through which hauntings are typically evaluated.

Is the Museum haunted? Based on our findings, we would say “Yes,” as the EVP’s were of high quality and unlikely to have been produced by any coincidental natural source. Based on those, we could conjecture that there are at least 4 different entities or residues of past lives present in the building: 2 adult males, 1 adult female, and 1 male (?) child. We were unable to associate any names with them, though one male may have been a “Dyes.” A child and perhaps his mother may have been present. Was this the child who died of drowning after being brought to the station by his mom (“Get Mom”)? Is he trapped in time, unaware of his passing and still looking for his mother?

We would like to return for a follow up investigation, if for no other reason than to free the spirit of this poor child from his earthly confines. There are methods for doing that, including calling in someone who specializes in such transitions.

Did previous investigations and activities manage to reduce or increase the paranormal activity that has been reported over the years? We don’t know. But in the meantime, the Museum in all probability still remains haunted by the presence of those firemen and other people who lived, worked, or died in the line of duty.

by
I
nvestigator: Paul Hill, Co-Founder Light in the Dark Paranormal
Date: November 30, 2013
Paul Hill, Adrian Hill, Louise Bosche,Terry Milsom

For ALL Light in the Dark Paranormal postings
(most recent at top), visit our home blog:
http://www.lightinthedarkparanormal.wordpress.com
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 All posts on this blog are written and owned by Paul Hill,
Copyright 2010-2014
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Happy Haunted Holidays!

21 Dec

Happy Holidays (and Winter Solstice) to both our faithful and occasional visitors! This is a ghost investigator’s least busy time of year, for obvious reasons.  But hauntings go on, as with the “slightly haunted” house for sale in Pennsylvania.  It appears that the owner will part with his home and his ghost friends for a very reasonable price.
Visit our Links page for the details: http://www.lightinthedarkparanormal.com/links.html.

We hope your New Year will be a great one, and scary only when you want it to be!

Light in the Dark Paranormal

For ALL Light in the Dark Paranormal postings
(most recent at top), visit our home blog:
http://www.lightinthedarkparanormal.wordpress.com
 Visit our website:  http://www.lightinthedarkparanormal.com

 All posts on this blog are written and owned by Paul Hill, Copyright 2010-2014
All Rights Reserved

Sheila Renee Parker

Author. Paranormal. Romance. Fantasy. Follow Sheila on Twitter! @sheilarparker

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