Ghosts in a Small Town.. an excerpt

Ghosts In A Small Town

“Be whole, be dust, be dream, be wind

Be night, be dark, be wish, be mind,

Now slip, now slide, now move unseen,

Above, beneath, betwixt, between.” 

― Neil Gaiman, The Graveyard Book

  I still live in the same small northern Midwest town that my mother moved us to after I graduated from high school. It is a very small town situated on the bank of one of The Great Lakes with its primary economy being tourism. It is quite picturesque and almost every angle makes for a postcard worthy image to send back to friends and family in Chicago or Cincinnati or wherever you’ve come here from. If you look the town up on ‘haunted USA’ or similar websites you won’t find a mention but for people like me there is nowhere that is NOT haunted – Spirits are everywhere and active in varying degrees. Some want our attention, some are simply residual energy reenacting an event over and over in a continuous loop -with or without consciousness. Some aren’t Spirits at all but rather living people from the past or future that we have happened across. This happens when we encounter a ‘thin space’ – for lack of a better term- that allows people, animals or things to sidestep between time. These thin spaces most often occur at liminal places such as stairs, doorways, windows, beaches and the entrances to cemeteries.  As I said, though you won’t find my town listed as a hotspot of haunted activity the following stories – all true – might help you to remember that Spirits are everywhere. Where ever there is life there is death and we mix and mingle together all the time. The difference between most of us is that people like me know it. Ready? Read on for some ghost stories of the northern Midwest as experienced by me

The Girl in The Theater

 When my first born was quite young and I was trying to get my personal life together I took a job at the local movie theater as a housekeeper. It was a terrible job but it paid cash and the hours worked with the sporadic daycare I was able get. It was my job to vacuum the lobby, blow the debris from the theater floors with a leaf blower then sweep all of it up. I then cleaned the restrooms and wiped down the glass entry doors. This took me about 4 hours every other day. The theater wasn’t large- it had a concession stand in the small lobby, two public restrooms, and 3 theater rooms- two to each side directly to the front of the lobby and a smaller one off to the left of the lobby.  Most people complained that the smaller theater was creepy but I had no problem there. It was one of the larger rooms to the front and the left that created a very hostile work environment in what was an otherwise empty building. 

  I felt the spirit the very first day I was working. I have been to this theater on more occasions than I can count as a patron and felt nothing out of the ordinary but in the quiet and empty building the presence was quite pronounced. I carefully entered the theater room where I felt the spirit and looked around but couldn’t see anything nor did the feeling I was having coalesce into anything more specific. I mentally acknowledged that there was a presence and moved along in my work. 

This scenario continued for over a month before the change occurred suddenly and without warning. I entered the building as usual, gathered the cleaning supplies from their closet and energetically ‘felt outward’ for the spirit as I walked toward the two front theaters. As I entered the theater to the left the spirit rushed me suddenly and became visible as a young girl of about nine years old. This rushing is one of my least favorite things that a spirit can do; not only is it frightening but it’s an aggressive move and leaves me feeling very off-kilter. This girl took me so by surprised that I fell backward and crab-walked as fast as I was able out of the theater and into the lobby. My heart was pounding and I was in a full-blown cold sweat. What in the world had just happened?!  I took several deep breaths, shielded myself for protection and carefully stepped back into the theater. And Wham! There she was again – a very angry young girl rushing me so abruptly and so quickly that all I could see was her face in front of mine. And it was not a nice face. This was one pissed off ghost. I left the theater again and regrouped once more in the lobby. I could feel the anger and malice emanating from that room but it became obvious she couldn’t leave that area. I decided to clean everything else except that room for the day and leave good enough alone for the time being. 

 The next time I came into clean I broadcast to the ghost that I was there and I would be coming into the room to clean. No arguments and more ghostly temper tantrums. I stepped in to try out my newly established rule and she promptly rushed me again. This time, however, scary as it was- I held my ground. She was literally in my face and very angry but I refused to move. After what seemed like a very long time but was probably only 3 or 4 seconds she backed off and moved towards the theater curtain. I cleaned the floor and blew the debris toward the curtain and as I walked down the aisle to finish sweeping it up she watched but didn’t make a move towards me. I pretended to not notice her while sweeping but was taking stock of her appearance; two braids in her light brown hair hung just to her shoulders on either side. She was dressed shabbily in a dingy white pinafore with black woolen tights and black leather lace up shoes that had seen better days. A plain long sleeved shirt of undeterminable color covered her arms and disappeared under the grungy pinafore. The year 1932 flashed at me and the image of a mechanic’s garage or workshop. I finished up and left to clean the remainder of the building. When I got home I asked my husband what used to be where the movie theater now stands. He said that for years a mechanic and car lot was located at that spot. While I could never get her to talk to me nor could I get her to tell me the reason for her aggression I believe the ghost of that child is connected to the activity that existed on that plot of land decades before the theater was built. I’ve often wondered what she sees- does she see the theater and not know how she got there or does she still see the mechanic’s shop and is angry that I was in it.

A Trip to Gettysburg -- an excerpt

   ~ Posts from here on out can be considered excerpts from the larger book that is being developed. For information on when that will be available and how to order a copy please email me.~

Thank you

A

Gettysburg, PA

When my children were still quite young I made a trip back East to visit my brother. We chose to meet in Gettysburg, PA.  My brother – being military minded in the family tradition, was interested in the battle fields and war history of the place. I – not being militarily inclined – was simply happy to be away from the role of mother and housewife for a few days. While we were walking along yet another open expanse of field where god knows how many people died and my brother chatted merrily on about war strategies and cannons my attention was drawn to a copse of trees about midway out into the field. Hiding in the trees were 3 young children very dirty and dressed in homespun rags. The oldest couldn’t be older than 9 and the youngest looked to be about 4. They watched as the tourists walk by, taking pictures and consulting maps- but they stayed hidden in the small gathering of trees. I don’t know if the children knew that I could see them- they didn’t react to me any differently than they reacted to any of the other living people but I know I will never forget seeing them.

 Later that day we came to the area of rocky outcropping known as Devil’s Den. Again, my brother was going on about ambushes and bloody battles but I was more interested in climbing to the top to stretch my legs against the endless monotony of the flat fields and battle grounds. I left him and began climbing the trail to the top of the formation. Once up there I stopped to look out across the fields thinking as most probably do that the pastoral beauty seemed incongruous with the bloody history. I turned to follow the trail and saw what I believed to be a male Reenactor dressed in Rebel Blue. He was stretched out on a bench enjoying the sun and watching people wander by. I looked at him, he smiled and tipped his hat and said clear as day ‘Howdy Ma’am’. I smiled in return, said ‘hello’ and walked around the next bend of the trail where I came upon a sign and historical marker with period images. One of the images showed a dead Confederate soldier – the same man who just said hello to me! I turned and ran back to the bench but there was no one there. I asked another gentleman if he saw where the costumed soldier went but he hadn’t seen anyone. I went back to the sign marker with the soldier’s picture and said a silent hello, acknowledging that I had seen him. I am glad that he seemed not only peaceful, but genuinely happy.