Ghosts

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by Hans Holzer


  * * *

  It isn’t very often that one finds a haunted apartment listed in the leading evening paper.

  Occasionally, an enterprising real-estate agent will add the epithet “looks haunted” to a cottage in the country to attract the romanticist from the big city.

  But the haunted apartment I found listed in the New York Daily News one day in July 1953 was the real McCoy. Danton Walker, the late Broadway columnist, had this item—

  One for the books: an explorer, advertising his Fifth Avenue Studio for sublet, includes among the attractions ‘attic dark room with ghost.’…

  The enterprising gentleman thus advertising his apartment for rent turned out to be Captain Davis, a celebrated explorer and author of many books, including, here and there, some ghost lore. Captain Davis was no skeptic. To the contrary, I found him sincere and well aware of the existence of psychical research. Within hours, I had discussed the case with the study group which met weekly at the headquarters of the Association for Research and Enlightenment, the Edgar Cayce Foundation. A team was organized, consisting of Bernard Axelrod, Nelson Welsh, Stanley Goldberg, and myself, and, of course, Mrs. Meyers as the medium. Bernard Axelrod and I knew that there was some kind of “ghost” at the Fifth Avenue address, but little more. The medium knew nothing whatever. Two days after the initial session, a somewhat fictional piece appeared in the New York Times (July 13, 1953) by the late Meyer Berger, who had evidently interviewed the host, but not the ghost. Mr. Berger quoted Captain Davis as saying there was a green ghost who had hanged himself from the studio gallery, and allegedly sticks an equally green hand out of the attic window now and then.

  Captain Davis had no idea who the ghost was. This piece, it must be re-emphasized, appeared two days after the initial sitting at the Fifth Avenue house, and its contents were of course unknown to all concerned at the time.

  * * *

  In order to shake hands with the good Captain, we had to climb six flights of stairs to the very top of 226 Fifth Avenue. The building itself is one of those big old town houses popular in the mid-Victorian age, somber, sturdy, and well up to keeping its dark secrets behind its thickset stone walls. Captain Davis volunteered the information that previous tenants had included Richard Harding Davis, actor Richard Mansfield, and a lady magazine editor. Only the lady was still around and, when interviewed, was found to be totally ignorant of the entire ghost tradition, nor had she ever been disturbed. Captain Davis also told of guests in the house having seen the ghost at various times, though he himself had not. His home is one of the those fantastic and colorful apartments only an explorer or collector would own—a mixture of comfortable studio and museum, full of excitement and personality, and offering more than a touch of the Unseen. Two wild jungle cats completed the atmospheric picture, somewhat anticlimaxed by the host’s tape recorder set up on the floor. The apartment is a kind of duplex, with a gallery or balcony jutting out into the main room. In the middle of this balcony was the window referred to in the Times interview. Present were the host, Captain Davis, Mr. and Mrs. Bertram Long, the Countess de Sales, all friends of the host’s, and the group of researchers previously mentioned—a total of eight people, and, if you wish, two cats. As with most sittings, tape recordings were made of the proceedings from beginning to end, in addition to which written notes were taken.

  MEETING A GHOST

  Like a well-rehearsed television thriller, the big clock in the tower across the square struck nine, and the lights were doused, except for one medium-bright electric lamp. This was sufficient light, however, to distinguish the outlines of most of the sitters, and particularly the center of the room around the medium.

  A comfortable chair was placed under the gallery, in which the medium took her place; around her, forming a circle, sat the others, with the host operating the recorder and facing the medium. It was very still, and the atmosphere seemed tense. The medium had hardly touched the chair when she grabbed her own neck in the unmistakable manner of someone being choked to death, and nervously told of being “hung by the neck until dead.” She then sat in the chair and Bernard Axelrod, an experienced hypnotist, conditioned her into her usual trance condition, which came within a few minutes.

  With bated breath, we awaited the arrival of what-ever personality might be the “ghost” referred to. We expected some violence and, as will be seen shortly, we got it. This is quite normal with such cases, especially at the first contact. It appears that a “disturbed personality” continuously relives his or her “passing condition,” or cause of death, and it is this last agony that so frequently makes ghostly visitations matters of horror. If emotional anxiety is the cause of death, or was present at death, then the “disturbed personality,” or entity, will keep reliving that final agony, much like a phonograph needle stuck in the last groove of a record. But here is what happened on that first occasion.

  Sitting of July 11th, 1953, at 226 Fifth Avenue

  The medium, now possessed by unknown entity, has difficulty in speaking. Entity breaks into mad laughter full of hatred.

  Entity:…curry the horse…they’re coming…curry the horse! Where is Mignon? WHERE IS SHE?

  Question: We wish to help you. Who is Mignon?

  Entity: She should be here…where is she…you’ve got her! Where is she? Where is the baby?

  Question: What baby?

  Entity: What did they do with her?

  Question: We’re your friends.

  Entity: (in tears) Oh, an enemy…an enemy.…

  Question: What is your name?

  Entity: Guychone…Guychone.…(expresses pain at the neck; hands feeling around are apparently puzzled by finding a woman’s body)

  Question: You are using someone else’s body. (Entity clutches throat.) Does it hurt you there?

  Entity: Not any more…it’s whole again…I can’t see.…All is so different, all is very strange…nothing is the same.

  I asked how he died. This excited him immediately.

  Entity: (hysterical) I didn’t do it…I tell you I didn’t do it, no…Mignon, Mignon…where is she? They took the baby…she put me away…they took her…. (Why did she put you away?) So no one could find me (Where?) I stay there (meaning upstairs) all the time.

  The Fifth Avenue ghost house—New York

  At this point, tapes were changed. Entity, asked where he came from, says Charleston, and that he lived in a white house.

  Question: Do you find it difficult to use this body?

  Entity: WHAT?? WHAT?? I’m HERE…I’m here…. This is my house…what are YOU doing here?

  Question: Tell me about the little room upstairs.

  Entity: (crying) Can I go…away…from the room?

  At this point, the entity left, and the medium’s control, Albert, took over her body.

  Albert: There is a very strong force here, and it has been a little difficult. This individual here suffered violence at the hands of several people. He was a Confederate and he was given up, hidden here, while they made their escape.

  Question: What rank did he hold?

  Albert: I believe that he had some rank. It is a little dubious as to what he was.

  Question: What was his name?

  Albert: It is not as he says. That is an assumed name, that he likes to take. He is not as yet willing to give full particulars. He is a violent soul underneath when he has opportunity to come, but he hasn’t done damage to anyone, and we are going to work with him, if possible, from this side.

  Question: What about Mignon and the baby?

  Albert: Well, they of course are a long time on this side, but he never knew that, what became of them. They were separated cruelly. She did not do anything to him.

  Question: How did he leave this world?

  Albert: By violence. (Was he hanged?) Yes. (In the little room?) Yes. (Was it suicide or murder?) He says it was murder.

  * * *

  The control then suggests to end the trance, and try for results in “open” sitting.
We slowly awaken the medium.

  While the medium is resting, sitter Stanley Goldberg remarks that he has the impression that Guychone’s father came from Scotland.

  Captain Davis observes that at the exact moment of “frequency change” in the medium, that is, when Guy-chone left and Albert took over, the control light of the recording apparatus suddenly blazed up of its own accord, and had to be turned down by him.

  A standing circle was then formed by all present, holding hands, and taking the center of the room. Soon the medium started swinging forward and back like a sus-pended body. She remarked feeling very stiff “from hanging and surprised to find that I’m whole, having been cut open in the middle.”

  Both Axelrod and I observed a luminescent white and greenish glow covering the medium, creating the impression of an older man without hair, with high cheekbones and thin arms. This was during the period when Guychone was speaking through the medium.

  The séance ended at 12:30. The medium reported feeling exhausted, with continued discomfort in the throat and stomach.

  THE INVESTIGATION CONTINUES

  Captain Davis, unfortunately, left on a worldwide trip the same week, and the new tenant was uncooperative. I felt we should continue the investigation. Once you pry a “ghost” loose from his place of unhappy memories, he can sometimes be contacted elsewhere.

  Thus, a second sitting took place at the headquarters of the study group, on West 16th Street. This was a small, normally-furnished room free of any particular atmosphere, and throughout this and all following sittings, subdued light was used, bright enough to see all facial expressions quite clearly. There was smoking and occasional talking in low voices, none of which ever disturbed the work. Before the second sitting, Mrs. Meyers remarked that Guychone had “followed her home” from the Fifth Avenue place, and twice appeared to her at night in a kind of “whitish halo,” with an expression of frantic appeal in his eyes. Upon her admonition to be patient until the sitting, the apparition had vanished.

  Sitting of July 14th, 1953, at 125 West 16th Street

  Question: Do you know what year this is?

  Guychone: 1873.

  Question: No, it is 1953. Eighty years have gone by. You are no longer alive. Do you understand?

  Guychone: Eighty years? EIGHTY YEARS? I’m not a hundred-ten years?

  Question: No, you’re not. You’re forever young. Mignon is on your side, too. We have come to help you understand yourself. What happened in 1873?

  Guychone: Nobody’s goddamn business…mine…mine!

  Question: All right, keep your secret then, but don’t you want to see Mignon? Don’t you want justice done? (mad, bitter laughter) Don’t you believe in God? (more laughter) The fact you are here and are able to speak, doesn’t that prove that there is hope for you? What happened in 1873? Remember the house on Fifth Avenue, the room upstairs, the horse to be curried?

  Guychone: Riding, riding…find her…they took her away.

  Question: Who took her away?

  Guychone: YOU! (threatens to strike interrogator)

  Question: No, we’re your friends. Where can we find a record of your Army service? Is it true you were on a dangerous mission?

  Guychone: Yes.

  Question: In what capacity?

  Guychone: That is my affair! I do not divulge my secrets. I am a gentleman, and my secrets die with me.

  Question: Give us your rank.

  Guychone: I was a Colonel.

  Question: In what regiment?

  Guychone: Two hundred and sixth.

  Question: Were you infantry or cavalry?

  Guychone: Cavalry.

  Question: In the War Between the States?

  Guychone: Yes.

  Question: Where did you make your home before you came to New York?

  Guychone: Charleston…Elm Street.

  Question: What is your family name, Colonel?

  Guychone: (crying) As a gentleman, I am yet not ready to give you that information…it’s no use, I won’t name it.

  Question: You make it hard for us, but we will abide by your wishes.

  Guychone: (relieved) I am very much obliged to you…for giving me the information that it is EIGHTY YEARS. Eighty years!

  I explain about the house on Fifth Avenue, and that Guychone’s “presence” had been felt from time to time. Again, I ask for his name.

  (Apparently fumbling for paper, he is given paper and fountain pen; the latter seems to puzzle him at first, but he then writes in the artistic, stylized manner of the mid-Victorian age—“Edouard Guychone.”)

  Question: Is your family of French extraction?

  Guychone: Yes.

  Question: Are you yourself French or were you born in this country?

  Guychone: In this country…Charleston.

  Question: Do you speak French?

  Guychone: No.

  Question: Is there anything you want us to do for you? Any unfinished business?

  Guychone: Eighty years makes a difference…I am a broken man…God bless you…Mignon…it is so dark, so dark….

  I explain the reason for his finding himself temporarily in a woman’s body, and how his hatred had brought him back to the house on Fifth Avenue, instead of passing over to the “other side.”

  Guychone: (calmer) There IS a God?

  I ask when was he born.

  Guychone: (unsure) 1840…42 years old….

  This was the most dramatic of the sittings. The transcript cannot fully convey the tense situation existing between a violent, hate-inspired and God-denying personality fresh from the abyss of perennial darkness, and an interrogator trying calmly to bring light into a disturbed mind. Toward the end of the session, Guychone understood about God, and began to realize that much time had passed since his personal tragedy had befallen him. Actually, the method of “liberating” a ghost is no different from that used by a psychiatrist to free a flesh-and-blood person from obsessions or other personality disturbances. Both deal with the mind.

  It became clear to me that many more sessions would be needed to clear up the case, since the entity was reluctant to tell all. This is not the case with most “ghosts,” who generally welcome a chance to “spill” emotions pent up for long years of personal hell. Here, however, the return of reason also brought back the critical faculty of reasoning, and evaluating information. We had begun to liberate Guychone’s soul, but we had not yet penetrated to his conscience. Much hatred, fear, and pride remained, and had to be removed, before the true personality could emerge.

  Sitting of July 21st, 1953

  Albert, the medium’s control, spoke first.

  Question: Have you found any information about his wife and child?

  Albert: You understand that this is our moral code, that that which comes from the individual within voluntarily is his sacred development. That which he wishes to divulge makes his soul what it should eventually be.

  I asked that he describe Guychone’s appearance to us.

  Albert: At the moment he is little developed from the moment of passing. He is still like his latter moments in life. But his figure was of slight build, tall…five feet nine or ten…his face is round, narrow at the chin, high at the cheekbones, the nose is rather prominent, the mouth rather wide…the forehead high, at the moment of death and for many years previous very little hair. The eyes set close to the nose.

  Question: Have you learned his real name?

  Albert: It is not his wish as yet. He will tell you, he will develop his soul through his confession. Here he is!

  Guychone: (at first grimacing in pain) It is nice to come, but it is hell…I have seen the light. It was so dark.

  Question: Your name, sir?

  Guychone: I was a gentleman…my name was defiled. I cannot see it, I cannot hear it, let me take it, when it is going to be right. I have had to pay for it; she has paid her price. I have been so happy. I have moved about. I have learned to right wrongs. I have seen the light.

  Questio
n: I am going to open your eyes now. Look at the calendar before you, and tell me what is the date on it? (placing calendar)

  Guychone: 1953…. (pointing at the tape recorder in motion) Wagon wheels!

  Question: Give us the name of one of your fellow officers in the war. Write it down.

  Guychone: I am a poor soul…. (writes: Mignon my wife…Guychone) Oh, my feet, oh my feet…they hurt me so now…they bleed…I have to always go backwards, backwards. What shall I do with my feet? They had no shoes…we walked over burning weed…they burned the weed…(Who?) The Damyankees…I wake up, I see the burning weed…. (Where? When?) I have to reach out, I have so much to reach for, have patience with me, I can only reach so far—I’ll forget. I will tell you everything…. (Where?) Georgia! Georgia! (Did you fight under General Lee?) I fell under him. (Did you die under him?) No, no.

  Question: Who was with you in the regiment?

  Guychone: Johnny Greenly…it is like another world…Jerome Harvey. (Who was the surgeon?) I did not see him. Horse doctors. (Who was your orderly?) Walter…my boy…I can’t tell the truth, and I try so hard…. I will come with the truth when it comes, you see the burning weeds came to me…I will think of happier things to tell…I’d like to tell you about the house in Charleston, on Elm Street. I think it is 320, I was born in it.

  Question: Any others in the family?

  Guychone: Two brothers. They died. They were in the war with me. I was the eldest. William, and Paul. (And you’re Edward?) Yes. (Your mother?) Mary. (Your father?) Frederick. (Where was he born?) Charleston. (Your mother’s maiden name?) Ah…! (Where did you go to college?) William…William and…a white house with green grass. (When did you graduate?) Fifty-three…ONE HUNDRED YEARS…. It is hard to get into those corners where I can’t think any more.

  “I never had my eyes open before, in trance,” observed Mrs. Meyers afterwards. “While I could look at you and you looked like yourself, I could almost look through you. That never happened before. I could only see what I focused on. This machine…it seemed the wheels were going much, much faster than they are going now.”

 

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