Believing in ghosts – Part 36

My whole life my grandmother told me stories of ghosts that “haunted” the houses she lived in. Apparently they liked her a lot. Everywhere she went, there they were. Were there really ghosts in her house? It is hard to tell. I don’t know if what we think are ghosts really are. Are we just holding onto the past and hoping for some kind of connection? I have dealt with having these beings in my life as far back as I can remember. Strange things happening in our house. Shelves coming off of the wall for no apparent reason, and always in the same area of the house. Are they ghosts or are they Angels and Demons?

They very well could be Angels and Demons. We know from scripture that they exist here on earth. Angels are here to protect us and help us through our trials and tribulations. Demons are here to turn us away from God. Some say that Angels and Demons fight over your soul while you sleep. Perhaps they fight all the time, everywhere. Maybe all that fighting is enough of a ruckus to make us take notice.

Even though my father tells me there are no ghosts, and that the bible says so. I have yet to read that passage. I know it says that we rest until judgment day. What if we are restless? What if by rest, God did not mean sleep, just rest? Do you see any ghosts working out in the field? No, because they are resting. On the sixth day he rested. I really don’t think he slept all day. I think a lot of people have misinterpreted the bible on several issues. Perhaps this is one of them. I believe that there are several beings that I cannot see that are all around us, all the time. I just don’t know what to call them.

Various types of ghosts – Part 2

Only recently, have people begun to realize that the words “Ghost” and “Spirit” can refer to more than one entity. For a long time, even people in the areas of paranormal investigation used “ghost” to cover an entire field of hauntings. However, the world of paranormal investigation continues to evolve. Not only do they expand their collection of equipment, but their knowledge and understanding of the paranormal, itself.

Because of the many forays and studies conducted into the world of the paranormal, investigators can now classify types of ghosts and hauntings. There is still a lot more to learn and classify, but until then, this is a basic list of the types of ghosts, or entities, as well as the types of hauntings.

First, take a look at the various types of ghosts.

Orbs

The most common form of ghostly activity is in orbs. They occur with relative frequency in pictures and videos. Unfortunately, orbs are being refused as paranormal evidence. Orbs can be explained away as dust, water, or insect life, and thus is debunked as paranormal activity.

Mist

Mist is another rather frequent form of ghostly apparition. Mist looks exactly as it sounds. A fog or vapor in a specific area and commonly caught on film and video. However, there are possible explanations that should be investigated when you believe that you have caught a mist. The first is a temperature variation. When you open your front door, sometimes a mist seems to flow from your house. This is a common occurrence when hot air meets the cold air outside. Other things to watch out for are breath, smoke, and steam.

Apparition (Full or partial)

An apparition is the spirit seeming to manifest itself, in part or completely in front of a witness. Sometimes cameras and video recorders catch the image of a person when we do not see them. The apparition looks human, or rarely takes on an animal form. While looking at the figure, the objects behind them can be seen.

Shadows

Like orbs, shadows are actually a very common type of spirit. They look just like shadows of someone moving around. Sometimes these shadows have a defined form, other times they do not. Some shadows are extremely distorted while others are nothing but a blob of darkness. There can be both stationary and moving shadows.

Now we move on to the types of hauntings:

Residual

The residual haunting is the most common form of haunting in the world of the paranormal. The spirit that is involved in the haunting goes through the custom that they

Photographing ghosts – Part 5

Its an exciting sojourn off the beaten path! Ghosts are a phenomenon that has a lot of scientific and eyewitness accounts to warrant further investigation, just like any other subject that we know little about. For example, we know more about the surface of the moon than we know about what lays in the deeper fathoms of Earth’s bodies of water. There are accounts of ghost going back to prehistoric times.

I like to look at pictures and videos of ghosts. It gives me the creeps. We laugh uneasy laughs, and its fun. I’ve even seen a few, and so have many other people I know. But what I would like to know is why ghost chasers or whatever they prefer to be called, insist that ghosts like to hang out in cemeteries? I mean, it just makes no sense. Why would the deceased want to hang out there and not in the places they knew and loved?

Many experts in the field don’t believe that there are very many in the cemetery, that they are more frequently in populated places, and that makes more sense to me.

Believing in ghosts – Part 34

Do I believe in ghosts? You bet I do. I grew up watching horror movies and going to the drive in with my young parents (they are 20 yrs older than myself). Knowing that me and my twin sister would be sneaking to watch the scary movies when we were supposed to be sleeping in the back of the car, we were taught at a young age that it was just make believe, it was like halloween, people in costume playing their parts. So there were very little nightmares between my sister and I.

Now fast forward to when I was 11 years old. As always, my dreams are very vivid and I still remember this dream to this very day without needing to resort to my dream journals. In short, the dream was about me saving my younger brother from a woman chasing him with a butcher’s knife. I ended up getting in between them and fell backwards onto my back. I started kicking at the woman and she then began stabbing my feet, legs, then my stomach with the knife. I could feel it all. I closed my eyes and opened them to find myself floating above my body and rising skyward, watching from above as my brother ran to my mom and the murderess ran in the opposite direction. I looked around me as I continued to rise and saw other spirits rising with me. Then I noticed how high I was getting and having a fear of heights, I got scared and zoomed back down only to wake up with a start from the dream (nearly falling out of the top bunk of the bunk bed).

After that dream, I’ve had ghost encounters. Even on that day. I was playing in my room and heard a knock at my bedroom door. I opened it and no one was there. I figured that my twin sister was playing a joke on me, so I checked all the rooms and the stairwell to see if she was there. But I saw no one. Then I went back into my room and the blinds and window which had been previously closed, were now open. No one had passed me to do so or I would have seen them as the place we were living in at the time was very small.

Ever since then, when I’d been upset or troubled, I would feel the sensation of someone running their hand along my cheek or my arm in a comforting manner, as if to tell me everything was going to be all right. As the years passed, I’ve had dreams of the ghost who would help me solve problems and ease my anxiety about certain things. When I described his looks and told his name to my mom, she told me who he was, her grandfather that died in the 1960’s, when she was a little girl. So here he is, my great-grandfather George Goode, a soldier in WW1 (we have his conscription papers and military medical records), the man holding the record for the most shrapnel taken out of a living human being, was continuing to be a part of the family and look out for one that looks like his daughter that passed away at an early age.

As time has gone on, I’ve seen other ghosts and unexplained things, yet George continues to visit when I need him the most. Could he be a guardian spirit taking the persona of a family member to gain trust? Could be. Or he really could be the ghost of my great-grandfather. Whatever he is, he’s helped to start and continue to strengthen my belief in ghosts and the multitude of things that can happen in the afterlife, including interaction with the living once one had passed on.

What makes a great ghost story? – Part 24

The secret to telling a great ghost story is simple; atmosphere. You have to have the right atmosphere to create a potentially frightening story. If you were to gather a group of people together a group of people in the middle of the day and share with them a ghost story most of the people would shrug it off saying it was just a runaway imagination.

If you were to gather the same group after dark with only a few candles burning for light and tell the exact same story you would get a completely different reaction. There would be fewer criticisms and a lot more looking over their shoulders.

Another way to tell a great ghost story is to put emotion behind it. It’s easy enough to say, “The children screamed when they saw the ghost.” That’s not very scary and actually quite dull. It would be better to describe it this way, “A chill filled the room causing the children to shiver and they suddenly knew they were not alone. Out of nowhere a shadowy figure began to take shape. Frightened, all the children began to scream.”

This form of storytelling makes a person feel they are apart of the story instead of just listening to it. All in all atmosphere and good word choice is the key to any great story, but especially for a ghost story.

Reflections: What would you ask a ghost? – Part 4

In 1983 I lived in a big old Victorian house with the resident ghost. The family that lived there before me saw her and the family that bought the house after me still sees her on occasion.

Having a conversation with a ghost is a bit like talking to yourself. The numerous times I attempted to converse with “her” I received no verbal response. I spent countless hours doing the research on my home and found out about this young woman I call the resident ghost.

My search revealed she was the niece of the original owner and had moved here from out East. This young beautiful school teacher was immediately hired by the local school. She lived here for only six months before she shot and killed herself in the very bedroom I slept in.

I asked her the same question each time she appeared; “Why did you kill yourself”? Why did she choose death over living a full life surrounded by people who loved her?

Her Aunt was a wealthy pillar of society in the town. Was it the shame of my ghost’s transgressions that forced her to take her own life? Was it the fear of what the future might bring to her and her unborn child?

The resident ghost named Leeza was either seduced or a willing partner in a relationship with the head school master. Young, so very young at just nineteen, did her naive demeanor cause her to swoon for the much older distinguished and married man. Or did he force his affections on her and she had no one to turn to.

Unlike society today, it was considered quite unacceptable for a young woman to get pregnant out of wedlock during the early eighteen hundreds. It must have felt like a double-edge sword to have been involved with a married man who held such a high a position in society.

Leeza must have been so distraught at the mere thought of what her Aunt would say. How could she disappoint the very woman who had paid her passage from Massachusetts to Illinois? Aunt Margareta had opened her elaborate home and her heart to her niece. Margareta had never married; therefore she had no children of her own to spend her time or money on.

The day she met the train carrying her brother’s only daughter was one of the happiest days of her life. She had thrown a grand party to welcome Leeza to her home and the community. She had lavished her with gifts and clothes and hired a personal maid.

Aunt Margareta had not wanted her to work, but relented and agreed that teaching was a notable profession. With her connections and standing in the community she alone had been instrumental in securing Leeza the position at the school.

Leeza was it the combination of all the things Aunt Margareta had done for you that made the decision to kill yourself easier? Was it easier to end your life and the life of your unborn child rather than face the certain and deep disappointment of your Aunt?

Many times through out the years I resided in that Victorian Mansion I would see Leeza.

Her favorite room was the formal dining room, where she would stand gazing out the leaded glass window over looking the vast grounds.

Every time we would meet I would ask her the same question. “Why did you take your life”? A beautiful sad face would merely look at me and then turn toward the window. I suppose I never expected her ghost to answer me. I probably would have fainted if she had replied!

Yet, I can’t help but wonder what would have happened had she not decided to take her own life. I like to think she would have delivered a baby girl just as beautiful as she was. Perhaps Aunt Margareta would have forgiven Leeza the moment she held her great niece.

How some of us are able to see ghosts – Part 6

I see the ghost of my mother in the paintings of the old masters. She was influenced by impressionism. Or maybe she was born with it. At any rate, I see and remember her tender way. How she would sing to me or tell me a funny story. I see her sitting at the easle, pensive, and she would withdraw analytically after each stroke. Her beautiful dark hair glistening in the glow of sun from the window. I remember her perfume. Too sweet for me, but it suited her.

I see the ghost of my mother’s mother in The Grapes of Wrath. I see her toiling away in a garden and I remember the ways of her undignified life. How she became the maid for her husband’s family. The stories she told me of her husband going mad and how surreal it all was. How horrible the Great Depression really was. I see her ghost stacking styrofoam meat trays in her garage. Thousands of them. Only now, I am not perplexed as to why she did it. The mind does not forget hell on earth.

I see the ghost of my brother, who, sadly died so young. I see him when I see a sea shore. For he and I spent many wonderful days upon the shell rich beach on the island of Okinawa. We often watched the old fisherman come in on their tiny, frail boats with their bounty catch.

We talked of pirates at the window of a coral bunker. Our adventures were noble and grand in intent.

My brother never achieved his enlightenment. He left behind a beautiful baby girl and his beautiful Italian wife.

I see the ghost of my young heart on the rolling plains of McClain county on a cold, blue day and the arthritic, charcoal colored trees. I wish they had not told me of the way the red horse succumbed to death and lay in nature to be devoured by birds of prey and coyotes.

Up until a few years ago, I was plagued by a specific nightmare. Oddly, a nightmare about quitting high school. How odd, I would reason, that I would have such a sophomoric and useless nightmare. Yet every time I had the nightmare, I could see the ghost of my former self.

I go to the high places when I see the ghosts and none can see me there.

Can you capture ghosts and spirits on camera? – Part 5

I didn’t believe in ghosts until I attended an Elderhostel session aboard the Queen Mary last year. The old luxury ocean liner is permanently moored in Long Beach, California, and now serves as a hotel, and is open with several restaurants, theaters and meeting areas open to the public. Our program included lectures and visits to various parts of the huge ship.

We had a family connection that made the Queen Mary experience more interesting. My 82-year-old brother-in-law was with us, and he had been one of the thousands of GIs who had sailed on the ship after it was converted into a troop ship during World War II. With him and others in our group, we visited the ballrooms areas where he and some of the 10,000 soldiers on his trip had been billeted.

Later, while the rest of the family slept, he and I toured the compartments of the ship he remembered from more than 60 years before. Many of the areas were unlighted that night, so we took along flashlights as he searched for the specific compartment he and members of his infantry company had occupied in August 1944. As we walked, my brother-in-law recalled that most of the guys were 18- and 19-year-olds destined to be replacements for the losses suffered on D-Day in June, and during the bitter fighting in Normandy and through France.

As we sat in the dark, he told me that they had arrived in France and immediately were sent up to the line near the Belgian town of Bastogne. They were in what was called a quiet part of the front just before the massive German campaign began for what was to be called the Battle of the Bulge. He pointed to different spaces and named some of his buddies who had been bunked there with him, and told me many of them had been killed in the first attack. My 82-year-old brother-in-law, a hard-nosed businessman, was not the sentimental type, but the memories of lost friends seemed to overcome him there in the gloomy darkness.

Then, he stopped talking suddenly and stared off intently at a corner of the compartment. He hit me on the shoulder, pointed and said, “There. Over there. That’s Bill, and next to him, Jack.” I didn’t see anything, but he kept pointing. “And little Joe. He was my best friend in basic training. There’re all there. My whole squad. Sitting on their bunks. Can’t you see them? They’re smiling and waving at us.”

I thought he was joking with me, trying to scare me in the dark compartment. “Come on. Stop the ghost routine,” I chuckled. He didn’t laugh, and continued to stare. Then he waved and started calling the names again, tears pouring down his cheeks. Having had enough, I said, “I don’t see anything. You’re going crazy, old man. Let’s get the hell out of here.” I dragged him away from the area, marched him along the passageways and finally up on deck.

The next morning when all of us were at breakfast, I joked about the ghosts of last night and how strangely my brother-in-law had behaved. He looked at me and said, “What ghosts? What are you talking about? He vehemently denied he had seen ghosts then, and has ever since told me he had never seen any ghosts aboard the old Queen Mary. To this day, I’m still not sure what happened. Did he see ghosts and then wiped the experience from his mind? Or did I imagine the entire incident?

What do you think?

Why are we scared of ghosts? – Part 11

“I ain’t afraid of no ghost!” Or so my son stated, until he thought we really had one. But why be afraid? We know that fear is an emotional response that is portrayed when we are dealing with a negative stimulus. Our “fight or flight” mechanism kicks in. It is integral to our survival many times. But fear of something that you cant see? Something that you can’t touch? Like a ghost.

First we must define a ghost to know what about it could possibly be so scary. According to the dictionary a ghost is a supposed spirit remaining after death; the supposed spirit of a person who has died. Perhaps it was your Auntie Mary. She was a great Aunt and was always ready for a hug and a kiss. Why would death change that? If she was so great in life, what on earth do you have to fear from her in death?

Perhaps it is the fact that we are taught from a very early age that after death, our loved one has gone to Heaven. They are supposed to be there and not here; roaming about and popping in to say “boo” from time to time! Perhaps it is because it’s unknown. New territory. Taboo to speak of. Maybe we are afraid because of the scary movies that we grew up watching. Hollywood certainly depicts ghosts as being evil and dark!

Whatever drives our fear of ghosts, one must remember that the only true thing to fear is fear itself!

Seeing ghosts – Part 6

Do you believe in ghosts?

I do. I didn’t at first. In fact,I was raised in a strictly religious household where belief in ghosts was considered sacrilegious. But I will not deny what I have seen with my own eyes.

I was seventeen at the time. I took a job babysitting for an eight and a twelve year old who were more than a little rambunctious.

The children’s mother hired me to watch them for a couple of hours while she went shopping. As soon as she left, they went a little crazy. They ran around the house, fought over toys, and started to yell at each other. I concluded that they were tired, and I put them down for a nap. It wasn’t long before they were fast asleep.

I developed a nasty headache, so as soon as they were out, I went to the medicine cabinet to look for some aspirin. There wasn’t any, so I decided to join the children in a brief nap of my own.

Later, when the mother came home, she started to yell at me about leaving medicine out of the medicine cabinet where her children could get at it. There, on the end table by the couch where I napped, was a bottle of Tylenol.

I quickly explained to her that I had indeed looked for the medicine but did not find it. I had no idea where the Tylenol came from.

She stopped yelling at me immediately. She simply said “Oh, it must have been the little girl. She likes to help people.” She went on to explain that her house was haunted by the ghost of a little girl of about seven years old, and that things often appeared out of place because she moved them.

I was skeptical. But I was also happy not to be yelled at any more.

I continued to babysit for this woman. After a while, we became friends, and she began to invite me to her house whenever she was having a get together. On one such night, I was sitting in the living room while she was in her bedroom getting dressed. Several other people arrived, but they all went to other rooms in the house for various reasons and left me there alone.

I was not bothered by that. I sat listening to music and calmly meditating on various aspects of life. I could see through a large picture window that it was very dark outside. All of a sudden, a large ball of light, about five feet around, formed outside the window. It floated gently through the glass, down the hallway, and into the little girl’s bedroom.

I could hear my friend’s daughter talking to someone. She was saying “No, I can’t come play with you. My mommy told me to go to sleep”

Everybody else must have heard her, too. The next thing I knew, they all were running out of various rooms carrying crosses and holy water. They were afraid that the little girl ghost was trying to steal the little girl so that she would have a playmate.

I saw it with my own eyes. Never again will I doubt that such things as ghosts exist.

Next Page »