Maybe I should name this post, “Sometimes… they come to us.” Even though my two friends and I have been going on ghost hunts, (some formal and some not) for years, we wanted to move up to the next rung and join a group. All three of us are sensitive to paranormal events. We’re now taking classes from a Ghost Research Group on how to protect ourselves before and after each case, how to properly handle the specified equipment and how to correctly document what we find.
This past Friday, Jean and I were invited by the Investigative Team to explore a famous historic old library. Did we find ghosts? Find out after the jump.
I’m not going to mention the name of the library, but I will tell you that it is a beautiful historic building with plenty of ambiance. I was at this library three years ago on a Ghost Tour. We were with a group of about twenty-five people, and it was pouring rain. We were told by our tour guide that the library had several ghosts, one of which was a little girl of twelve, who had fallen from the spiral staircase to her death. The library was once a mansion and the girl was visiting family.
The consensus was that she was fooling around on the steps, and fell to her death. I didn’t sense her that rainy night three years ago, but I did sense something on the third floor of the library. Our group had been led to the attic where a woman talked about Native American artifacts, but I wasn’t listening to her; I was listening to someone else. It was an angry spirit.
He was standing behind me. A vision of a tall man, in dark clothing popped into my mind. He wasn’t happy with visitors traipsing up to his attic; he wanted us out! When we left that building to head to another historic site, I mentioned this spirit to my friends. They had not sensed him, but they could tell that he had upset me.
This time around, I would be able to spend more time in the building. Jean and I had our cameras and digital voice recorders ready for the investigation. There was just one problem. The night before the investigation, I had a dream about the girl from the library. In my dream, the little girl told me that she didn’t fall; she was pushed. The man in the attic pushed her. She had accidentally took something that belonged to him. Was this man a family member? Did the girl know him? No, she did not! The man in the attic was a stranger and he was already a ghost when he pushed her.
Our team leader, trainees, and two library staff personnel headed up to the second floor to check out the two master bedrooms. Apparently, there are several ghosts in the building, because my friend Jean and I sensed a male spirit in the larger room. Jean began to feel tightness around her chest and across her arm, while I experienced heaviness on my chest. We had sensed that this man liked his food, wine and cigars, and maybe we felt his congestive heart failure. We had the digital voice recorder, motion sensors and a thermometer, but this spirit wasn’t in a chatty mode. Sometimes, the dead, just like the living, don’t feel like talking to strangers.
Okay, I know you’re probably asking yourself what would make me go back to that attic knowing that the “angry man” may have been responsible for that little girl’s death. Two things: I was armed with my rosary beads and holy water; plus, a few of my deceased family members have my back!
There were two male spirits in that attic. The “angry man” was up on the balcony of the attic and someone named Buddy was in the main attic with us. There was some communication going on with Buddy and the team leader of our group, but nothing much from the “angry man” which was perfectly fine with me, until one of the spirits shoved the younger team leader. We weren’t sure which spirit did this.
Next stop was to the basement, where our group had lots of interaction with a very nice spirit. While sitting in the dark, I got the feeling that the spirit in this room was once the custodian of the building. He was happy tending to the upkeep of the inside and the outside of the property, but he missed his garden. What garden?
I asked the library staff if there was once a rose garden on the property, because I saw roses in my mind. There was, but it was no longer there. The custodian answered our questions for a while, but then told us to leave; go home. We left the basement and went up to the first floor to start packing the equipment. There was a large meeting room to the rear of the library and as I stood there, I got the feeling that the size of the room wasn’t right. The staff member told me that the meeting room was a late addition to the building. Now I understood why the custodian was sad.
The realm of the living and the dead is separated by a thin wall, and… sometimes… the dead come to us. I intend to go back to that library and search their files. I need to see pictures of what the building looked like when it was a home. Maybe, there are police records of the girl’s death. Maybe she had something in her hand, when she was found. I don’t know what I’ll find, but I have to do this, for her. When I return to the library, I’m also bringing a rosebush with me to plant on the library ground. The custodian misses his rose garden.