A Haunting Update

Jumpin' Jehoshaphat!  (What does that even mean, btw?)  It's been almost three months since I've updated the blog.  Whaaaat?!  First and foremost, let me say- sorry!  The holidays are crazy for the C fam- that's the best excuse I can come up with. 

Anyway- here's what's been going on:  NOT A WHOLE LOT.  I'm not sure whether it's because there really hasn't been much activity in the house lately, or because we blame pretty much everything, including global warming, on our new puppy these days.  Meet Opie.

 

Isn't he cute?  He's also a holy terror.  Which means we're not as likely to notice strange noises or things disappering or being moved as we once were. 

I was thinking today, when I realized how long it's been since I've posted anything, about how much things have changed.  We've been in our haunted house nearly two years now.  Within the first six months, I found a dead bat in my living room, a chipmunk swimming in my toilet, and a rabid mouse in the drawer under my oven- chewed right through a wall to get into the house!  Since then, nothing. 

There were smoke detectors being set off all hours of the day and night, footprints on the floor, things flying and breaking and moving and slamming- so much craziness, it felt like living in a movie.  Now?  Just a noise or movement out of the corner of one's eye or a creepy feeling now and then. 

Maybe it was all just a show of force when we first moved in.  Or maybe they got sick of us bugging them back (a la, the four paranormal investigations in a year's time) and decided to leave us alone in hopes that we'd return the favor.  Either way, I dare say peace has come to the C Fam abode.  Here are some updates I've been meaning to share, but just haven't had time:

Fourth Investigation: The findings from our fourth paranormal investigation didn't turn up any evidence aside from the experiences we had during the investigation (which are documented in my last post.)  At this time, we don't have any further investigations planned.  But who knows?  That could always change...

History Lesson:  A couple months back, I got an email from one of the former owners of the house.  His family owned/lived in the house for nearly fifty years until selling it to my landlord.  He found out we were digging into the history of the house, and wanted to share some information with me. 

First and foremost, my "haunted farmhouse" isn't really a farmhouse at all.  Just a house.  In the 1800s, it was part of a plot of farmland.  The original farmhouse still stands, and is our next door neighbor to the west of us, on the other side of the abandoned lot.  In the early 1900s, the land was divided up into several properties- a small one with the original house and barn, an empty lot with a barn where shetland ponies were raised (now the abandoned barn), our property, and our next door neighbor to the east 's property.  What we call the "chicken coop" was part of that farm, and is the oldest structure on our property.  (Which may explain why it's the most haunted.)

His family did not build the house, as I'd always believed.  It was owned by at least one other family before his family bought it in the 1950's.  We've not been able to find any history on that family, or anyone who lived in the house prior to his family buying it.

He had no idea why the house might be haunted, and didn't have a lot of personal experiences to share.  He did say that the abandoned barn out back always gave him the creeps, and told me about a time when he was maybe 11 or 12, the first time he was allowed to stay home alone.  It was winter, and it was snowing.  He was in the house by himself, and heard footsteps outside, crunching in the snow, all around the house.  He was (understandably) terrified, and thought someone was trying to break in.  When he went outside the next morning to look- no footprints, just fresh snow.

Halloween Haunting:  When you live in a haunted house, Halloween parties are pretty much obligatory.  We had a houseful of "amateur ghost hunters" mulling around all night.  Here's one photo that was snapped in the basement by my friend Tena.  Some people claim to see the shadow of a face right in the middle of the picture.  Do you see it?

 

That's pretty much all I've got for ya right now.  I truly can't recall the last real "incident" we've had.  But I'll be sure to keep everyone posted.  In the mean time....no news is good news.  Right?

Child's Play



The boys using an EMF detector to look for ghosts


On Saturday night, the folks from Grimstone Inc. made their second visit to our haunted abode.  This time, they brought different equipment and a slightly different investigation team.  This time, we did something we’ve never, ever done before…..we let our kids stay home during the investigation.  (Not all four of them, though- the two youngest are afraid of their own shadows, so it’s definitely not something they could have handled.)

The boys were quiet, watching with wide eyes as the investigators brought in case after case of equipment.  We updated them on everything that’s happened in the house since the last investigation, including the fact that it’s been well over a month since anyone has slept upstairs.  They talked to the boys a bit about that, and then decided to begin the investigation upstairs.  As they got out different pieces of equipment, they took their time explaining to the kids how each one worked.  They even gave them an EMF detector to carry with them, and told them what to look for and when to call for help.

Austin checking readings on the EMF detector

Ethan thinks he found somethin'!

An investigator from Grimstone showing Ethan how the EMF detector works

 

The investigators: Kara, Barbara, Josh, and Shannon, performed an EVP session in E-Man’s bedroom while we stayed downstairs in the living room.  Then they got out a device called a Frank’s Box (also known as a spirit box, or ghost box.)  That’s when the real fun began.  The Frank’s Box is essentially a modified radio that scans through radio stations very quickly, creating a steady stream of white noise.  The thought is that spirits can speak through that white noise.  The thing that’s different about the Frank’s Box from other equipment is that the results are instant.  Whereas most evidence has to be reviewed, a Frank’s Box produces instant results- you can hear the activity as it occurs.

Needless to say, the boys were fascinated by this.  They stood at the bottom of the stairs listening intently as the investigators asked questions.  At one point, one of the investigators asked, “Can you tell us your name?”  The response was loud and clear: “Bobby.”  I thought the boys would be afraid, but they weren’t.  A little freaked out, maybe, but not afraid.  They got the green light from the investigator manning surveillance to go upstairs and join the party, so we all headed up to E’s bedroom to witness the investigation close up.  One of the questions asked by investigators was “Whose room is this?”  The voice that came through the Frank’s Box said, “Ethan.”  (Ding, ding, ding!)  Someone asked “it” to name someone in the room.  Over the next few minutes, we heard “Kara,” “Shannon” and “Barb” all spoken separately.  (Correct again!)  It was really, really freaky.  We then headed downstairs to the master bedroom for an EVP session and a Frank’s Box session.  The boys asked some questions, made some jokes, and got some responses through the box to yes and no questions.

Ethan helping to run surveillance

 

And that was about all the ghost hunting the boys could handle.  It was nearly midnight, after all.  We returned to our campout in the living room, and the investigators returned to their investigating.  The boys quickly fell asleep.  The Hubs played on his phone (Candy Crush, I’m sure.)  I spent a little time listening to the live broadcast of the 97.5 Paranormal Investigation, which was coincidentally on the same night, and then talked with Shannon, the investigator running the last surveillance shift, until the lights came back on.

Some things I overheard/found out over the course of the evening, but have not been shared as “official” investigation findings at this time:  One of the new investigators got an overwhelming sense that something tragic had happened in the house immediately upon entering.  She was very uncomfortable upstairs, and felt like she shouldn’t be there.  Another of the investigators, while in one of the upstairs bedrooms, could feel someone watching him from  the hallway.

 

During a Frank’s Box session in the downstairs bathroom, investigators heard the word, “dead.”  When they asked, “Who’s dead?,” the voice responded, “Me.”  At one point, I was in the kitchen getting a drink when I heard a commotion downstairs, where the investigators had convened.  All night, they’d been asking “it” to turn a flashlight on and off, and from the sounds of it, they achieved success in the basement.

The investigators left around 1:30 or so in the morning.  The Hubs and I went to bed.  At 2:20, we were awoken by a loud crash outside our door, where a picture had somehow fallen off the wall.  I wasn’t afraid or upset, I’m becoming an old hat at these paranormal investigations.  But I was restless and couldn’t sleep at all.  I was nauseous, and came down with a serious migraine that lasted well into Sunday.  Not sure if it was related to the investigation, or just a coincidence.

When the boys woke up the morning after the investigation, they were bummed that they’d fallen asleep before it was over.  They didn’t seem scared or traumatized or any worse for the wear.  But  my 10-year-old did inform me that he’s never, ever, ever sleeping upstairs again.  Sooo….there’s that.



Ghost hunting is exhauting!



Busy Morning

It seems that randomly playing music is going to be the new "thing" in our house.  This morning at about 6, with The Hubs already at work and both kids asleep in my bed (don't ask) and me on the couch, I was actually semi-awake when I heard the music turn on upstairs.  This time, it was The Beatles' "Hello, Goodbye" that started playing out of nowhere, with nobody upstairs (or even awake.) 

The curious part is, the song didn't even start at the beginning, it started right in the middle of the song, with the words, "Hello, hello!"  It played for about a minute, and then before I worked up the courage to go upstairs and turn it off, it stopped.  So I have no idea which device it came from- iPhone, iPod, iPod touch, TV, other TV.....coulda been anything.

Then, a couple hours later, after the boys got on the bus and I was laying back down in bed trying to rest for a bit before going to work, my husband came home from work early.  I listened as his heavy footsteps walked through the dining room, the kitchen, the middle room....and then stopped.  I turned to face the door, fully expecting him to be standing there looking at me.  He wasn't.  I called his name.  He didn't answer.  I texted him and asked where he was.  Still at work.  For another three hours.  Hmmm.  Well.  Okay.

I feel like September and October are important months for our spirits.  It was last September that I took the photo of the footprints at the end of my bed (see an edited version of said photo below), and the activity really picked up from there.  Especially in the days before (of course during) and after the first paranormal investigation we had done last October.

Oh, did I forget to mention?  We are having our FOURTH paranormal investigation in a couple of weeks.  Grimstone Inc. is coming back, and this time the kids are staying home during the investigation!!  (The kids' request, not mine.  I think it's a horrible idea.)  Stay tuned....

Sweet Dreams

I’m of the belief that some dreams have meaning and some have none whatsoever, generally speaking.  But every time I dream about our house or the spirits in it, I wake up totally freaked out,  convinced that our ghosts are trying to send me a message. 

Last night (this morning?), I was having a perfectly pleasant dream where I was with a group of friends at some event, and we were just talking and hanging out.  My mom showed up with a box of stuff she found in the (her? my?) attic.  In it, there was a photo of a man who looked like he was straight out of the 1970s  or 80s, with big, clunky glasses, a sweet porn stache, and thick, brown feathered hair.  I can still see the picture perfectly in my mind, the dream was that vivid.  He was wearing a white polo tennis shirts with a few thick stripes through the middle, and some waaaaay too short white shorts.  He was also wearing a gold chain.  (See, told you….I can still see it perfectly in my head.)

I feel like he was on a bike, or near a bike, and there was a woman in the photo with him, but I don’t remember her face as well.  I asked my mom who he was and why I should care about this picture.  She explained some present day link, which I don’t remember now (he worked in my building, or was one of the paranormal investigators on our case, or was a former teacher of mine or something like that) and then said, “look at his name.”  I can’t, for the life of me, remember what the name was, or why it was written in big block letters on the front of the picture, but I do remember that his first name was Robert.  “I think this is Bobby,” my mom said.  And then I started screaming- this blood curdling, top of my lungs, hysterical shriek.  I was staring at the picture, just screaming and screaming.  And I realized, in my dream, that Bobby was never the name of one of our ghosts, “Bobby” was the person responsible for all of the ghosts in our house, and that every time the little ghost boy talked about “Bobby,” he was trying to tell us about the person who killed him, not tell us his own name.  I screamed so much and so loud in my dream that it woke me up.  I’m 99% sure that it’s the reason for my migraine today, as well.

I woke up terrified.  I wanted so badly to run out of my room, out of my house altogether, and not come back until daylight.  But.  My youngest son was asleep in my bed, and I couldn’t leave him alone in my room with whoever or whatever was planting nightmares in my head.  I know, I’m being overly dramatic.  The dream probably meant nothing.  It doesn’t even make any sense.  But even now, in the light of day and with my fears calmed, I still feel like it meant SOMETHING.  Although what, I have no idea.

Whatcha Gonna Do?

Last night, I didn't sleep.  Like at all.  Which is so stupid, because I was beyond exhausted.  I tried to sleep.  Several times.  But something (someone?) wouldn't let me.  Every time I would start to fall asleep, I would be startled awake, by what I'm not quite sure.  But my adrenaline was pumping and my heart was racing- so much so that I was afraid there was something medically wrong with me.

I hadn't had a bad dream.  I hadn't heard or seen anything to warrant such a reaction, but it literally felt like my heart was going to beat right out of my chest.  I got so freaked out, I woke my husband up.  In case I, you know, died or something.  As I sat in bed, trying to figure out what was wrong with me, I was reminded of a few other times I've woken up in panic mode.

Most recently, it's happened when I heard someone talking to me while I was sleeping.  Once a woman, and once what sounded like a little boy.  Both times, I woke up with that same adrenaline rush, my heart pounding.  But this time there had been no voice, nothing that had happened to cause this.  Nothing I could consciously remember, at least.

Around 2 am, I got up to go to the bathroom for the millionth time.  I checked on the boys, who were fast asleep on the couch in the living room, and then went to the bathroom.  On my way back to my room, I heard something upstairs.  A voice. I walked slowly to the bottom of the stairs to listen more closely.

It was music.  "Bad Boys," to be exact.  (Yes, the Cops theme song.)  I returned to my bedroom and got my husband, who was just starting to fall asleep again, back up.

"There's music upstairs," I told him as I climbed back into bed.

"What?" he asked, almost as if he didn't believe me.

"Music, upstairs.  Bad boys, bad boys, whatcha gonna do?"  I elaborated, getting back into bed, making it clear that he was going to have to be the one to solve this particular mystery.  He sleepily made his way upstairs, returning a few minutes later.  "What was it?"  I asked.

"Austin's iPhone," he answered, satisfied.  Mystery solved.  Austin's iPhone??

As I laid there, wide awake, listening to my husband's breathing turn into quiet snores, my mind was racing.  I had turned Austin's iPhone off earlier in the evening after informing him that he would not be using it for a few days.  (Long story.)  I'd let him put it upstairs on the charger before bed, but it was still turned off.  The kids were fast asleep downstairs, I saw them with my own two eyes.  And there was no music playing the several other times I'd gotten up to go to the bathroom that night.  It wasn't even playing on my way TO the bathroom, just on my way back.

I suppose I shouldn't be surprised.  I mean, it's definitely not the craziest thing to ever happen in our house.  But I couldn't help but feel a little unsettled as I stared into the darkness, the song's lyrics playing over and over in my head:

"Whatcha gonna do?  Whatcha gonna do when they come for you?"

Apparition

Of all of the crazy things that have happened in our house, there's one thing I'd not yet experienced until last night.  I'd never seen anything.  I've heard things, felt things, sensed things....but never actually SEEN any "ghosts" or ghost-like things.  But last night....

Last night, I got up around 2 am or so to use the bathroom.  When I walked out into the middle room, I was startled by what I thought was a person sitting on the bench against the wall.  When I stopped to really look, there was nothing there.  I used the bathroom, made my way back down the hall and through the middle room, and as I entered my bedroom, I saw the same "thing" standing beside the bed, near the closet door.  I blinked, and it was gone.

It was almost like a light brownish, person-shaped fog.  Both times I saw it, it was gone within seconds.  But the fact that I saw it twice, in two separate rooms, within a five minute time span......well, I can no longer say that I've never seen a ghost in the house.  Because I'm not entirely sure anymore.

Caught on Tape!

Finally, FINALLY, I was able to catch some of our haunted house shenanigans on video.  Usually, things happen so fast and in the middle of the night that I don't have time to register what's happening until after the fact.  So I definitely never have the time to play amateur filmmaker.  But last night....

Last night it was just me and my 10-year-old, E-Man, at home.  We were watching TV in the living room, and out of the corner of my eye, I swore I saw the light in the middle room turn on.  I got up to check the light switch, verified that it was in the off position, and then returned to the couch.  I decided it was probably just some especially bright headlights lighting up the room, as we are on a main road and have constant traffic.

A few minutes later, it happened again.  My son saw it, too.  The ceiling light in the middle room turned on, then off, then flickered, then turned off again.  A couple minutes later, it happened again.  After the third or fourth time, I decided to try to catch it on camera. 

I started recording with my phone.  Nothing happened.  After about a minute, I turned my recorder off.  Quite literally the very second I turned it off, the light came on again.  I turned the camera back on immediately.  As I was explaining what was happening, my son said, "Maybe Bobby doesn't like to be caught on camera."  When he said the name "Bobby," the light turned on and then off.  And I CAUGHT IT ON CAMERA.  (The video continues for about another minute after that, but nothing else happens.)

WATCH IT HERE: