Haunted

by Dorah L. Williams

  I wanted to put the matter to rest, and to live in an ordinary home. I wanted us to sell our property for practical reasons, such as job relocation or our need for a larger home, and not because we were fleeing from ghosts. And, I needed help in doing that.

  When I had first contacted Rhonda from the paranormal society, she had warned me to be careful with whom I discussed our situation. She had seen other people persecuted for similar claims. They had been fired from their jobs or driven from their neighbourhoods. Yet if we had experienced such strange occurrences within our family’s home, surely others must have experienced them in other places too. I wanted to know we were not alone in dealing with such events, but felt isolated because so few people were willing to discuss them.

  I pondered contacting Rhonda once again. Unfortunately though without actually visiting the site of the haunting, the investigator felt she had already done everything she could through our e-mail correspondence other than offer moral support.

  I then thought about calling Beverly and asking her to contact Dennise for us again, but I hesitated to do so. Because she had been the one to initiate our first discussion of paranormal activity and because her sister was a psychic, I had thought we could confide in Beverly and her husband, Ray, without fearing their doubt or ridicule. Yet whenever they visited us, I sensed a slight uneasiness on their part. I understood though that the disturbances in our home were frightening because they were caused by the unknown, and I had not discussed the house with her for some time.

  Although Ted was adamant that he did not want a research group conducting ghost-hunting experiments within our house, I felt the need at least to speak directly to a psychic to see if more information could be gleaned. There were many so-called psychics who advertised their services over the Internet, on television, and in the newspapers, but I did not want to waste our time and money talking to just anyone who claimed to have the ability to make contact with the spiritual realm. I began to research who would be most likely to give me the answers I needed.

  I finally found Ronald Planter, who seemed very knowledgeable and gifted in his ability to act as a link between the spiritual world and our own. I scheduled a session with him, and although nervous, I was anxious to hear what information, if any, he could give to me. I had not given him any facts regarding our situation, because I wanted to be certain that what he told me was based on his contact with the spirits and not coloured by my own words.

  He began our session with a prayer and, perhaps sensing my apprehension, encouraged me to relax. Almost immediately, he began to describe the group of spirits within the home. He said they told him that they had specifically chosen our family to live with them, which explained the strange connection we had all felt upon first viewing the house and our strong determination to move there.

  He suddenly seemed uncomfortable and said he was perceiving intense heat. He asked if there had ever been a fire in the house or somewhere on the property. I immediately thought of the smoke alarms that had blared in the middle of so many nights, and I remembered that Rhonda had asked the same question. I told Ronald that, during my research into the house’s history, I had not found any written record of a fire.

  He said that he sensed very strongly that the spirits were connected to the actual land rather than just the house. He was being shown that there was something very important within the ground, although that seemed to confuse him. Robert was not certain what it was they wanted him to understand. He kept repeating over and over that they were trying to make him understand that something important was in the ground.

  When he mentioned that he was being told about something special that had come up from the ground for me, I thought of the rose bush and asked him if it were connected with the spirits as Dennise had said. He said they were smiling and were happy that their gift had delighted me as much as it had, because they wanted me to understand that they loved our family very much and were not there to frighten or harm us in any way.

  Ronald explained that they had been upset about the addition that was built onto the back of the house. The high level of spiritual activity within the house, especially during that time period, was to let us know that they did not want the ground in that area disturbed. And, again, he mentioned that he was being shown that it was the ground itself, and not the house in particular, that drew the spirits to that location. They had deliberately chosen our family to live there, because they wanted us to understand the significance of that.

  I made notes during our conversation and recorded what I was being told, but I had hoped for more explicit details. I wanted to know the actual names of the spirits so that I could confirm them in old records, if possible. And I especially wanted to know what we could do to stop the haunting. When I asked Ronald if there was a way for us to help these spirits, he explained that he felt they were not there to be assisted. Rather, they thought they were supposed to be of service to our family, to give us knowledge. And they were trying to show him once more that the information was within the ground.

  Although Ronald seemed very sincere and I felt he had a strong psychic sense, the session had not given me the clear-cut answers I sought to achieve a peaceful household.

  I did not understand what it was the spirits felt we needed to learn about the ground under our home, and I had no idea how to find out under a house that was a solid three stories and had been built a hundred years ago. I realized, though, that any kind of disturbance to the ground brought about increased paranormal activity, even something as simple as digging a hole in the yard to plant a tree. The spirits may have tried to convey the same information to all the previous residents of the house over the years, thereby creating, with few exceptions, the swift changes in the house’s ownership. When I recalled how relentless the disturbances had been during and shortly after the construction of our small addition, I could imagine what the first owners must have experienced after an entire house had been built on the land.

  Although I wanted my own family to experience a peaceful life once again, I also felt that the spirits needed to know they could go on their way. So, I finally called Beverly again. I explained to her that we were thinking of selling our home but that I first wanted to make sure the spirits were gone for good. I told her I did not want to feel as if I was deserting them by moving away before I had helped them to leave, too. To my relief, she seemed to understand what I was saying and offered to call Dennise and ask her what we should do.

  Beverly called me back that very afternoon. “Dennise said it is actually a pretty simple process, and if she was able to come to your home, this is what she would do herself. Go from room to room, and tell them over and over again that they don’t belong in that house anymore. Tell them to look for the bright Light and to go into it, and that will take them to where they belong now,” Beverly said.

  “Is that all?” I asked.

  “She said that’s what she would do. You just have to explain firmly to them that they can’t stay there any longer, because it isn’t where they belong. Tell them they will be happier once they go into the Light. Dennise said they are probably just lost right now, but you can explain to them where they have to go. She said that should really help. Let me know how it goes,” Beverly said, before she hung up.

  I went up to the attic and turned on the computer. I wanted to see if I could find any additional help on any of the websites I had previously bookmarked during my research on the paranormal. Several sites mentioned something called smudging, which was the act of cleansing your home of all negative energy and entities. I would need some white sage to perform that, but was not sure if I could find that in our little town.

  Later that day I took the children shopping and stopped at a store that sold holistic items. I asked for white sage and hoped the man behind the counter would not think my request unusual. When I reached the shelf to which he had directed me, however, I saw it was stocked with several different types and sizes of bundles of loose sage and smudge stick
s.

  Back home with my purchase, I re-read the directions given on the websites. And when the children were playing with their friends across the street, I prepared to begin smudging our home.

  Ted came home from work a few minutes later, before I had lit the sage. I told him what Dennise had said about directing the spirits towards the Light, and I showed him the websites that described the smudging of the house. He agreed with me that anything was worth a try.

  We decided first to attempt to direct the spirits into the Light. I carried a large family Bible with me for moral support and tried to remember all the words Beverly had told me to say to the spirits.

  “You don’t belong here any more,” I said out loud into the stillness of the attic.

  Ted and I exchanged glances and then laughed nervously. We both felt uncomfortable performing this spiritual cleansing of our home.

  “We shouldn’t laugh,” Ted told me. “Try to be serious.”

  I nodded my head and spoke again. “You don’t belong in this house any more,” I repeated. “I know you think you are helping us and want us to understand something about what is in the ground here but it’s time for you to go into the bright Light that you see near you now. You’ll be happier there. That’s where you belong.”

  I started to feel emotional. The words flowed much easier, and I could feel tears stinging my eyes. Ted too seemed more serious, but he was still surprised by how intense I had become. I suddenly fully understood the importance of what we were doing. The thought of the spirits of small children feeling lost or trapped in our house, for whatever reason, filled me with such sadness that all I wanted to do was to help them. I wanted to send them on their way as much for their sake as for ours.

  I went from room to room, still nervous and holding tightly to the Bible, but repeating the words Beverly had told me to say.

  “Go into the Light,” I called out firmly to the spirits, feeling as if I were guiding the lost little souls who had really come to matter to me. “That’s where you belong now. You’ll be happy there. You don’t belong in this house any longer, and it’s all right to leave here now. I know you wanted to help us and give us some knowledge about something, but we all want you to leave us now and be at peace,” I encouraged them.

  After speaking aloud throughout the second floor, I went down to the rooms below and repeated the same words there. When we finally arrived in the family room, I said them for the last time. I looked at Ted and smiled, relieved that we were finished.

  “Do you think that will do any good?” he asked.

  “I hope so,” I said.

  I then lit the bundle of white sage and blew out the flame so that it gave off a heavy smoke. Following the directions I had found on a website, I said a prayer asking that all the unwelcome negative energy and entities within our home be removed and no more be allowed to enter. Together Ted and I walked all through the house with the smoking sage bundle. I repeated the prayer over and over as the smoke wafted into every nook and cranny. When we were finished with the sage, I extinguished it in the bowl I had filled with sand. Although the smudging process had been fast and simple, I hoped it would help, too.

  After Kammie and I had buried those small objects in the backyard, I had felt a false sense of accomplishment. I had really believed that all our ghostly experiences would be brought to a halt by that one action and had been very disappointed and frustrated when they were not. Although the intensity of the incidents had lessened, they had not stopped altogether. Remembering that, I was cautiously optimistic after following Dennise’s advice. Although Ronald had felt the spirits remained in the house because they wanted to help us and did not want to leave. But, if Dennise was correct, and the spirits were lost souls who needed our guidance to find their way into the Light, then perhaps the house was finally free of their presence, and they were finally free of the house.

  The tension or heaviness in the atmosphere of our home had made me feel uncomfortable and ill at ease at times, yet it had also made it difficult to think about leaving. Although I tried to express that to Ted, he claimed he had never perceived any feeling in the house. Although he was a very practical person, though he too had felt a strong emotional attachment to the house. That had induced us to purchase it despite the impracticality of our decision. Perhaps the spirits had sensed all along that we were the ones who would finally guide them on their way.

  The formerly heavy atmosphere of the house gave way to a comforting sense of peace. I guarded myself against optimistically believing that the spirits were gone and our lives could be normal once again, but there was no mistaking the calmness in our home. I decided we should adopt a “wait and see” attitude before giving any more thought to selling the property.

  21

  DIGGING FOR THE BACKYARD POOL

  After a few months of complete normality within our home, we began to accept that the haunting was finally over. With that realization came the decision not to sell our house just then, even though the guilt associated with moving was no longer a factor. With summer coming, and our coastal cottage being too far away for us to use it much, we decided to install a backyard pool. The children were very excited about it and could hardly wait for the digging to begin.

  When they arrived home from school one day, about a week before their summer holiday began, a lot of the work had been already completed. A large and very deep hole had been dug in the middle of the yard. I had only been home for a few minutes after the work had begun and had left Ted to supervise the process. I was as surprised as the children when I got back and saw some of the items that were sticking out of the pile of soil on our lawn. Kammie was especially keen to investigate what had been unearthed.

  The first thing she picked up out of the mound was a rusted picture frame. We both eagerly wiped off the layers of mud, hoping to see a photograph, but the picture must have disintegrated long ago. The frame was almost empty, and only remnants of the photo remained along the edges of the glass.

  The next thing she found was a gorgeous piece of handmade lace in nearly perfect condition. It appeared to have come loose from a collar or cuff, perhaps from a dress, and looked exactly like the samples from the early to mid-1800s displayed at the local museum.

  As she dug through the pile of discarded earth, it soon became obvious that the dirt actually contained mostly ash. This area of our backyard apparently had been the site of a large fire. Most articles were burned beyond recognition, but Kammie found a small pile of school notebooks as she continued to search. They too had been burned but remained legible enough for us to make out the beautiful penmanship in subjects such as botany and arithmetic. When I read the word botany on the cover of the book, a slight tingle went up my spine as I recalled the amazing gifts of rapidly growing trees and bushes and beautiful blooms that had been presented to us in the past.

  The last article Kammie found was a well-preserved brown glass bottle, similar in shape to a present-day beer bottle, but obviously an antique from many years ago. As she picked it up a large piece of ash also lifted from the pile. A small gust of wind lifted the fragment of ash and flipped it over. There, securely attached, was a tuft of blonde hair. We both gasped when we saw it, and Kammie grabbed my arm. It scared me as much as it did my daughter, but I struggled to keep my composure.

  “Whose hair is that? Is it hers?” Kammie said.

  “Whose?” I asked.

  “The blonde girl we saw with the old-fashioned clothes. I think that’s her hair,” she said.

  “Honey, these things were buried really deeply. I have no idea how long they were there. Maybe it’s fur from an animal,” I tried to reason.

  “It’s not fur, it’s long blonde hair. And there was a fire. Look at all the ashes. Maybe it killed her. Maybe it killed her whole family,” she whispered to me, as though the idea was too to say aloud.

  I thought of the children’s spirits we had seen over the years: the little boy who ran down the stairs; the angels who waved to Ros
a; the young girl who stared at Ted as he slept and who also poked the feather in the ink-well; the sad boy Matt saw by his bed. All of those spirits had blonde hair, as did the woman Beverly had seen by our tree.

  I looked again at the antique bottle and remembered how Ted’s beer had erupted whenever he tried to drink it, but no other adult’s had been affected. Had the father of that family drank too much beer and in a drunken state caused a fire?

  Ronald had said he had a very strong sense of intense heat from the property, and Rhonda had also asked if there had ever been a fire in the house. As the memory of the persistent smoke alarms flooded back to me, the pieces felt like they were starting to fit together.

  We found no other items in the ground that day, although we sifted extensively through the soil to see what more could be learned. We even had the construction of the pool halted until we could be certain there was nothing else of importance buried beneath the lawn.

  Exhaustive research failed to show any record of a family living on the property prior to the first registered sale and certainly no official indication that anyone ever perished in a fire or any other way. There was no written trace of them at all. According to available documents, the land was owned by the government until 1865, and, if squatters resided there, no permanent record of their existence was ever made.

  Those souls, however, obviously had been there and wanted to make their presence known. It was apparently important to them that we knew they had existed, and perhaps also how they had died. They may have wanted to be sure that the tragedy of a fire, conceivably caused by a father’s drinking, never happened to another family on that property again.