by Joe Nickell
One of the first to use “modern technology” for ghost hunting was England's Harry Price (1881–1948), as we discussed in chapter 33. Despite his gadgets, Price still was unable to prove the reality of ghosts. Worse, he “is suspected of fraud in connection with several of his investigations, including the most famous one, the Borley Rectory haunting” (Guiley 2000, 299), which he wrote about in his The Most Haunted House in England (1940). (For a discussion, see Dingwall, Goldney, and Hall 1956.)
Ghost hunting began to be popular in the late 1970s with the founding of the Chicago-area Ghost Tracker's Club. It became the Ghost Research Society (GRS) in 1981. The popularity of the Ghostbusters movie of 1984 may have boosted the proliferation of ghost clubs. Some include psychics and dowsers, but virtually all utilize high-tech equipment for the supposed detection of ghostly “energy” or ghosts’ supposed impact on the environment (e.g., changes in temperature). Unfortunately, that is unknown to science, and the approach of the typical ghost hunter—a nonscientist using equipment for a purpose for which it was not made and has not been shown to be effective—is sheer pseudoscience.
Here is a brief overview of their alleged findings and the equipment involved.
Ghost photos. The earliest photographs—daguerreotype (from 1839), ambrotypes (1855) and tintypes (1856)—did not show ghosts. However, following the advent of glass-plate negatives (about 1859), which permitted double exposures, various means of faking ghost photos followed. As well, unintended ghostly effects have been caused by imperfections in film or camera or by conditions under which the photo was made (Nickell 1994, 146–59). Some “ghosts” are only simulacra—faces or other shapes perceived due to the mind's tendency to “recognize” images in random patterns (Nickell 2004). (Chapter 38 discusses ghost photos in more depth.)
Orbs. Typically unwitnessed but showing up in photographs—especially flash photos—orbs are bright spheres touted as “spirit energy” (Belanger 2005, 342). In fact, however, orbs are easily made anywhere (as I have done in experimental photographs). When they are not mere reflections from shiny surfaces, they most often result from the flash rebounding from particles of dust or droplets of water close to the lens (Nickell 2002). The characteristics of orbs can vary, depending on how they are photographed. Orbs are more likely to be caused by cameras having the flash located close to the lens, according to Fujifilm (2006). Also, digital cameras, having a greater depth of field, may be a more frequent offender (“Orbs” 2006). Responding to the evidence, some ghost hunters now claim to be able to differentiate “genuine” ghost orbs from “false orbs” (Guiley 2000, 270), while still being unable to prove the existence of the former.
Ectoplasm. Ghost hunters often tout the existence of “ectoplasm”—originally a substance supposedly extruded from the body of a medium. It was shown in photographs, extending umbilical-like from the medium's mouth, nose, or ears, but again and again it was revealed to have been faked with strips of gauze, chewed-up paper, concoctions of soap and gelatin, and so forth (Guiley 2000, 116–17). Ghost hunters have seized on ectoplasm as a pseudo explanation for various strand and mist effects in photos. Such effects can be caused by the flash rebounding from the camera's wrist strap, jewelry, hair, insects, a wandering fingertip, and so on (Nickell 1996; 2002). Or they may be due to other glitches.
Spirit energy. In addition to photography, ghost hunters search for their elusive quarry with a panoply of devices, notably electromagnetic field (EMF) meters. These are highly sensitive and—depending on the model—can be influenced by a number of very real energy sources, including faulty electric wiring, inadvertently magnetized objects (such as a metal bed frame), radio waves, microwave emissions, solar activity, electrical thunderstorms, and many other influences—even the human body! Watching hapless ghost hunters on TV crockumentaries, one often sees them operating EMF meters while holding them in the hand and moving about—a sure recipe for “unexplained” (to them) fluctuations. See figure 34.1.
Electronic Voice Phenomena (EVP). Following the nineteenth-century attempts to amplify spirit voices with tin trumpets, Thomas A. Edison suggested it might be possible to make an electronic device that permitted spirit communication (Gardner 1996). That never materialized, but today's ghost hunters make audiotape recordings of what they believe are “voices of the dead.” These are unheard during taping but are manifested on playback. Skeptics contend they are either voices from radio, television, or two-way radio transmissions, or they are imagined. Like visual simulacra, syllablelike effects may be perceived in the randomness of static and background noise (Guiley 2000, 120–21; Flynn 2006).
Cold spots. Ghost buffs tout temperature fluctuations and “cold spots” as evidence that a house is haunted. Supposedly, they indicate areas where ghosts reside, and in the past they were picked by alleged psychics. To counter the inherent subjectivity of such an approach (a spooky place may give one “cold chills”), modern ghost hunters employ heat sensors, such as digital thermal scanners that measure instant temperature changes. The practice persists despite a lack of scientific evidence or a theory to support equating the temperature with ghosts. Furthermore, temperatures routinely vary throughout a building due to normal causes (Warren 2003, 171–72; Guiley 2000, 155; Baker and Nickell 1992, 123).
The pseudoscientific approach is presented—one might almost say caricatured—by a ghostly reality show that airs weekly on Syfy (formerly the Sci-Fi Channel). Called Ghost Hunters, it features two hapless paranormalists—Jason Hawes and Grant Wilson—who, by day, are Roto-Rooter plumbers in New Jersey, and, by night, are leaders of the Atlantic Paranormal Society (TAPS). With some skepticism to enhance overall credibility (a token nonbeliever on each show), the duo present “evidence” for alleged hauntings. This we take a look at in the next chapter.
SCIENTIFIC INVESTIGATION
The scientific approach to hauntings does not begin with the unproven, seemingly contradictory notion that entities are at once nonmaterial and quasi physical. Rather, in scientific inquiry one seeks to gather, study, and follow the evidence, only positing a supernatural or paranormal cause when all natural explanations have been decisively eliminated. Investigation seeks neither to foster nor debunk mysteries but instead to solve them.
This approach can involve scholarly methods (such as historical research and folkloristic analysis) as well as scientific techniques like those used in crime-scene investigation. (See chapter 37, “Ghost Forensics”).
As shown by examples throughout this book, it is the scientific approach that solves mysteries. Indeed, we could see the advance of science as a progression of solved mysteries.
I have often crossed paths with the Atlantic Paranormal Society (TAPS), headed by Jason Hawes and Grant Wilson, stars of the popular Ghost Hunters series on Syfy (formerly the Sci-Fi Channel). On Saturday, July 26, 2008, my wife, Diana Harris, and I attended their presentation at Lily Dale, the spiritualist village in Western New York. Jason and Grant were kind enough to single me out—favorably—during their talk, and I accepted their invitation for a beer afterward. They graciously bestowed on me an autographed copy of their book Ghost Hunting: True Stories of Unexplained Phenomena from the Atlantic Paranormal Society, produced with, well, ghostwriter Michael Jan Friedman (Hawes and Wilson 2007). Interestingly, Friedman authors “science fiction and fantasy novels.” (See figure 35.1.)
The book gave me a chance to compare notes with Hawes and Wilson. Because I had preceded them in examining several of the “haunted” places featured on the show, I was able to contrast my findings with theirs. Our mutual cases include the Myrtles Plantation (in St. Francisville, Louisiana), the Winchester Mystery House (San Jose, California), and the St. Augustine Lighthouse (on Florida's east coast).
THE MYRTLES
Located in the Louisiana bayou, the Myrtles Plantation (figure 35.2) is actively promoted by its owners as a haunted place. Indeed, says Jason, “Grant and I could barely contain ourselves. The Myrtles was known as one of the most haunted places in Am
erica. It was every paranormal investigator's dream to check the place out” (Hawes and Wilson 2007, 137). Well, I had been there, done that—courtesy of the Discovery Channel—for a documentary.
In February 2005, the TAPS team members got off to a good start at the Myrtles. They were shown a “ghost” photo, but it had been so enhanced by a “paranormal guy” that they promptly labeled it “tampered.” But then came the incident with the lamp: in the plantation's “slave shack” (a structure of recent vintage that never held a slave), a lamp glided eerily across a table behind the pair while they were on camera. Although they conceded that “Grant might have snagged the lamp cord with his foot and dragged it without knowing it,” the pair later decided to attribute this incident to “a supernatural force” (Hawes and Wilson 2007, 146). Unfortunately, as reported by TelevisionWeek, “Upon close inspection, fans concluded the lamp was being pulled by its own cord. Even worse: a night-vision shot appears to show the cord extending from behind the table to Mr. Wilson's hand” (Hibbard 2005, 19). Yet Grant maintained, “If we were looking for a sign that we were doing something worthwhile, we couldn't have asked for a better one than the lamp.” The pair concluded, “The place was haunted” (Hawes and Wilson 2007, 146, 147).
In my own investigation at the Myrtles (including staying alone overnight there August 14–15, 2001), I had reached a very different conclusion about the place. Although its owners and staff hype the tale of a murderous slave named Chloe—a “legend” that Hawes and Wilson repeat in some detail—my research revealed Chloe to be fictitious and the tale to be fakelore rather than folklore. Ghostly phenomena reported at the site can be explained without invoking the supernatural. For instance, a mysteriously swinging door was simply hung off center, and banging noises heard at night were attributable to a loose shutter (Nickell 2003).
RETURN TO WINCHESTER
As discussed in chapter 6, San Jose's Winchester Mystery House is remarkable indeed. Even after the gothic Victorian mansion was greatly reduced in size by the 1906 San Francisco earthquake, eccentric widow Sarah Winchester continued to add to the architectural wonder until her death in 1922. At that time it contained 160 rooms and included bizarre architectural details such as stairways that led nowhere. As we have seen, legend holds that a Boston spirit medium had directed Mrs. Winchester to go west and build, without ceasing, a home for spirits. This was to halt an alleged curse on the Winchesters resulting from the “terrible weapon” (the repeating firearm) they had produced.
Jason and Grant retell the legend without skepticism, although the tale is unproved, exists in many contradictory versions, and lacks proof that Mrs. Winchester was herself a spiritualist.
Visiting the mansion in July 2005, Hawes and Wilson (2007, 225–29) “didn't find anything of a supernatural origin”—and even concluded that “odd banging sounds” were probably “the result of a plumbing problem.” Nevertheless, they and their TAPS team continued their pseudoscientific approach to ghost hunting (Hawes and Wilson 2007, 225–29). That is, they relied heavily on alleged ghost-detecting equipment that does not, in fact, detect ghosts. A reading on an electromagnetic field (EMF) meter, for instance, can be caused by faulty wiring, microwaves, solar activity, or any of a number of other nonghostly sources. There is no credible scientific evidence that ghosts exist, let alone that they are electromagnetic—or radioactive: the TAPS team also on occasion uses a “portable Geiger counter” (“St. Augustine Lighthouse” 2006). Other ghost-hunting equipment is similarly useless, especially in the hands of nonscientists (Nickell 2006).
I investigated the Winchester mansion in 2001 (with colleague Vaughn Rees) and found that temperature variations, the settling of an old structure, and other similar characteristics accounted for cold spots, odd noises, and ghostly phenomena (Nickell 2002). I have learned that people's level of ghost experiences is approximately proportional to their psychological tendency to fantasize (Nickell 2000).
ST. AUGUSTINE LIGHTHOUSE
Among the tallest such structures in the United States, the St. Augustine Lighthouse (figure 35.3) is claimed to feature, in the keeper's dwelling, a girl in a red dress who suddenly vanishes and the lingering smell of cigar smoke. In the tower, various unexplained noises are often perceived (Elizabeth and Roberts 1999, 40–49).
Once again, the TAPS team lugged in the fancy equipment on which their pseudoscientific approach to ghost hunting depends. They placed a wireless audio unit up in the tower; at the bottom, a thermal camera was positioned to shoot upward “just to see what we could pick up” (Hawes and Wilson 2007, 234–35). The team claims to have seen a shadowy figure and heard a woman's cry as they went up the stairs. Jason ran toward it but “couldn't catch more than a glimpse of the dark figure” as he gained the stairs (2007, 236). Afterward, their “video footage clearly showed a shadow at the top of the stairs. A moment later, we heard a female voice crying for help, and saw the shadow dart to the right” (2007, 238). They concluded that the St. Augustine Lighthouse was indeed haunted.
That lighthouse was one of many I have investigated (Nickell 2008). (My wife and I even stayed as “assistant keepers” at a couple of remote sites. See chapter 13.) On March 23, 2004, I climbed the 219 steps to check out the St. Augustine Lighthouse's tower and also explored the keeper's house. The occasional perception of cigar smoke in the latter may have a ready explanation, as discussed in chapter 13. There is often confusion as to the true nature of the smoke (attributed alternately to cigars, cigarettes, burning wiring, etc.), and real smoke can drift inside or its smell be carried in on people's clothing. The power of suggestion may be at work as well. Similarly, apparitions at “haunted” sites are also explainable. For example, private citizens who rented the St. Augustine keeper's dwelling (after the light was automated in 1955) sometimes woke to see a young girl at their bedside (Elizabeth and Roberts 1999, 44). Such sightings are easily explained scientifically as “waking dreams,” which occur in the state between sleep and wakefulness (see appendix).
As to noises in the tower, there are a number of plausible explanations, beginning with the wind. Indeed, Hawes and Wilson (2007, 238) themselves found one culprit in the form of a window “free to swing with the wind.” Temperature changes can also cause old steel to make noises as it expands and contracts (Thompson 1998, 73). One such screeching sound was interpreted as “a female voice crying for help.” (Another possibility is seagulls; the birds may “shriek” and “sound almost like humans screaming” [Vercillo 2008, 50].)
Glimpsed shadows might have an equally simple explanation. I studied the video of the TAPS team's St. Augustine Lighthouse episode (“St. Augustine Lighthouse” 2006) with two colleagues, Timothy Binga and Tom Flynn, and all of us were underwhelmed. Flynn, the Center for Inquiry's video expert, summed up the evidence by stating: “These visual effects are so ambiguous that they may signify nothing at all.” He added, “The observed effect might even be the shadows of the ghost hunters themselves as they moved about, several landings below” (Flynn 2009).
As this comparison of cases shows, the approach of so-called ghost hunters is simply one of mystery mongering. Like claims for the paranormal in general, their assertions that certain places are haunted are based on the logical fallacy of arguing from ignorance: “We don't know what caused such-and-such (a noise, say), so it must have been a ghost.” In fact, one cannot draw a conclusion from a lack of knowledge. The problem is exacerbated by the pseudoscientific use of scientific equipment and by the distinct possibility that ghost hunters are actually causing—even if unintentionally—some of the very phenomena they are experiencing!
In contrast is the scientific investigator's approach: begin with the phenomenon in question, try to ascertain whether it in fact happened, develop hypotheses to explain it, and seek to find the most likely explanation—keeping in mind that one cannot explain one mystery by attributing it to another.
Shades of The Amityville Horror! Take a house reeking of death, bring in a “demonologist,” commission a p
rofessional writer to enhance the alleged events, Hollywoodize the resulting book into a horror/thriller flick, and shamelessly bandy about the word true in promotional copy. This formula lured moviegoers to The Amityville Horror (1979); now—current hucksters hope—The Haunting in Connecticut, “based on true events,” will entice a new generation of credulous screamers. But here is some of the real truth I encountered in my investigation of the case in 1992 and 1993.
BACKGROUND
It's an old story—in more ways than one. In 1986 the family of Allen and Carmen Snedeker (respectively a stone-quarry foreman and former bowling-alley cocktail waitress) moved into an old residence, known as the Hallahan House, in Southington, Connecticut (figure 36.2). The family included three sons, ages thirteen, eleven, and three (the two oldest being Carmen's by a previous marriage), and a six-year-old daughter; two nieces would later follow.
It is disputed whether the Snedekers knew when they moved in on June 30 that the house had been a funeral home. They maintained they did not; however, some neighbors insisted otherwise, and the previous owners emphatically stated that the Snedekers were informed of the house's former use prior to their moving in. In any case, the family soon discovered in the basement a box of coffin handles, a chain-and-pulley casket lift, and a blood drainage pit—unmistakable relics of the previous business, the Hallahan Funeral Home.
The creepy setting may well have had a powerful suggestive effect. Spooky phenomena began with the oldest son, Philip, whose basement bedroom was adjacent to the gruesome area. Soon he reported seeing ghosts, although his parents say they first attributed this to cobalt treatments he was receiving for Hodgkin's disease. Philip's personality changed drastically: he began wearing leather, developed an interest in demonology, and even reportedly broke into a neighbor's home, telling his mother he wanted a gun so he could kill his stepfather (Corica and Smith 1988a; Rivard 1988; Carpenter 1988).