The Hellfire Club

by on Jun.09, 2017, under From the Web

Reposted from Ghost Stories and Haunted Places | Go to Original Post

 The Hellfire Club was a club of young, wealthy gentleman that came together in the early 18th century to rebel against traditional Christian ideology.   They were largely a product of the humanist movement and the Irish called the blasters, short for blasphemy.    The actual hunting lodge that is commonly called The Hellfire Club is considered to be one of the most haunted places in Ireland by some and was a meeting place for the blasters off and on.

 
On my tour of the Hellfire Club today it was clear that the tour guide thought much of the darker history of Hellfire Club was nonsense, but that didn’t stop him from telling it.  As we approached the club,  I could hear the screams of children.  It is a mile and a half hike uphill to reach the old lodge once owned by Phillip, The Duke of Wharton.  As the most spectacular views of Dublin appeared at the top of the hill, it was clear I hadn’t been imaging the shrill screams that lingered in the cold, wet air.   A group of children were playing in the rain in the grassy area in front of the decaying lodge.  As our guide told us that the site we were standing on was once the site of an ancient Irish Cairn and burial ground,  I watched children dance and sing.
We went into the first room and our guide told us the story of a priest who had once visited the lodge.  The priest arrived for dinner and saw members of the club were treating a black cat as if it were the guest of honor.  When the priest asked why,  members of the club answered that the cat was the oldest and wisest of them.  The priest muttered an exorcism and the cat turned to smoke and returned to Hell.  Other stories include members of the club burning themselves alive to get closer to hell. One medium saw mountains of corpses in one chamber and tales of human sacrifice abound.  Campers there resort seeing demons in the walls and locals tell tales of burning cats fleeing the club.
History does show members drank to excess and had orgies at the lodge.  The guide reported that he has seen evidence of current occult activity while he has been up there.  People have left circles of candles and makeshift ouijii boards behind. When I was there, I had difficulty breathing, but that could be due to the cold air.  Whatever the truth hidden in the walls of Hellfire Club, it is a particularly cold and creepy place.  The natural beauty of the location juxtaposed with tales of satanic rituals and human sacrifice make you feel lightheaded and cold beyond measure.

     

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Carraigin Castle

by on May.28, 2017, under From the Web

Reposted from Ghost Stories and Haunted Places | Go to Original Post

Ireland is known for its haunted castles and creepy locations.  The countryside there crawls with legends and folklore and tales of dark spirits.  We leave for Ireland next week and I can’t wait to explore as many of Ireland’s haunted nooks and crannies as possible.

Every expedition requires a base camp.  And although the primary goal of our journey is to see Leap Castle and all the most notorious haunted, castles of Ireland, we chose our primary residence with care.  We will be staying at Carraigin Castle in Galway for our two week journey to Ireland.  Carraigin Castle is perfect for us.  It is beautiful and has an amazing view.  It is comfortable and is large enough for our little family to be spread out in and it has a little bit of dark history to keep us up at night.

For ten generations Castle Carraigin was home to family and descendants of Adam Gaynard III.   The castle dates back to 1238 and was never intended to be a fortress or a protective structure.  It was a family home.  It was owned by the Gaynard family and the Staunton family.  The castle had a bit of a dark history when it was burned down by the IRA in 1922 ( http://www.ciaranmchugh.com/?pagid=carraigin-graveyard) and local folklore says that there is a tunnel that connects the castle to the neighboring cemetery.  The castle was restored in 1970 and is now available to rent on VRBO, which is where we found it.

We leave next week and I will be posting videos and photographs from all the wonderful places we will be going and there will certainly be many stories from Carraigin Castle. 

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Names in Stone

by on May.08, 2017, under From the Web

Reposted from Ghost Stories and Haunted Places | Go to Original Post

Image result for tombstones 1850s alabama

My office manager is a wealth of ghost stories.  Her brother used to live in the haunted South Pittsburg Hospital and her family has been haunted by one specter or another for many years.  Today she told me a tale of a family that lived in a home in Faulkville, Alabama.  They lived in a home in the country near an old civil war site.

This family had a daughter who used to love playing with her imaginary friends.   Her imaginary friends names were Scott and Lotion.  Scott was a little girl and Lotion was a little, purple boy.  They played all day for over a year and the family thought nothing of it.  The names were silly and the idea of a purple boy made the two friends seem even more fictitious. Imaginary friends are a healthy and normal part of any child’s development.  So the little girl played with her friends and no one really cared.

It wasn’t until the family found an old cemetery on the site that anyone realized the significance of the girl’s friends.  They found tombstones from the 1850s and the tombstones were labeled Lucien Scott and Donna Scott.  Both tombstones were for children who had died before they turned ten. Lucien had smothered to death and Donna liked to go by her last name.  She was a bit of a tom boy.   So Lucien was purple because he had died of asphyxiation and Scott was a girl because that was her last name.  The imaginary friends finally made sense.

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A Photographic Journey Through the Catacombs

by on Apr.23, 2017, under From the Web

Reposted from Ghost Stories and Haunted Places | Go to Original Post

These pictures of the catacombs are from a Spring Break trip to Paris and they hardly capture the haunting quality of the place.  The photographs were taken by Gabriel Penot.  
The arch at the entrance is translated to saying:  

STOP:  YOU ARE ENTERING THE KINGDOM OF THE DEAD


The Catacombs of Paris have always been a source of endless fascination for me.    The catacombs are a series of labrynthian tunnels that burrow beneath the city of Paris.   The walls of these tunnels, or this ossuary, are covered in the bones of Paris’s dead.  Opened in the late 18th century, the underground cemetery became a tourist attraction on a small scale from the early 19th century, and has been open to the public on a regular basis from 1867.

The history of the catacombs starts with the booming population of Paris.  As more and more people flooded this populous city, there began to be serious problems with overcrowding cementeries.  Around the 12th century, this problem became more than serious.  The wealthy could still afford expensive cementery plots, but the bodies of the poor were flooding the streets.   As solution to this,  Saints-Innocents cementery was created for the poor.  The poor were buried here in less regal style that usually involved being dumped in a sack into a mass grave.   This solution worked for a while and other mass burial plots for the poor were established.

However, by the 17th century even the mass graves of Saints-Innocents were overflowing and the sanitary conditions around these poor cementeries was becoming intolerable, even by 17th century standards.  The bones of the older dead were exhumed and laid in piles to make room for fresh corpses.  So that the cementery was laden with the unburied remains of the dead.    Luckily, the government was also looking for a solution to dealing with a series of abadoned quary mines beneath the city.   The solutions to the two problems came in the form of the l’Ossuaire Municipal, the official name for the catacombs.  

Alexandre Lenoir first had the idea to use empty underground tunnels to the outskirts of the capital to use as the ossuary. His successor, Thiroux de Crosne, chose a place and the exhumation and transfer of all Paris’ dead to the underground sepulture began in 1786.  At first the catacombs were merely a place to place the bones of the dead.  It wasn’t until Louis-Étienne Héricart de Thury assumed responsibility for the ossuary that it became a work of art.   He rearranged the skulls and bones to create symbolism within the tunnel and also added old cementery decorations to the underground mortuary to turn it into what you see within the catacombs today.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time on youtube today viewing videos of ghosts visitors of the catacombs have caught on tape. The list is more than lengthy and several people have caught honestly scary images of the spirits of the dead on tape in the catacombs. The stories of ghosts here are more than prolific.  The place is considered to be one of the most haunted places in the world and according to http://www.hauntedamericatours.com/FRANCE.php  the most haunted place in France.   To learn more about the catacombs or to find out how to visit them  go to http://www.catacombes-de-paris.fr/english.htm.

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A Photographic Journey Through the Catacombs

by on Apr.23, 2017, under From the Web

Reposted from Ghost Stories and Haunted Places | Go to Original Post

These pictures of the catacombs are from a Spring Break trip to Paris and they hardly capture the haunting quality of the place.  The photographs were taken by Gabriel Penot.  
The arch at the entrance is translated to saying:  

STOP:  YOU ARE ENTERING THE KINGDOM OF THE DEAD


The Catacombs of Paris have always been a source of endless fascination for me.    The catacombs are a series of labrynthian tunnels that burrow beneath the city of Paris.   The walls of these tunnels, or this ossuary, are covered in the bones of Paris’s dead.  Opened in the late 18th century, the underground cemetery became a tourist attraction on a small scale from the early 19th century, and has been open to the public on a regular basis from 1867.

The history of the catacombs starts with the booming population of Paris.  As more and more people flooded this populous city, there began to be serious problems with overcrowding cementeries.  Around the 12th century, this problem became more than serious.  The wealthy could still afford expensive cementery plots, but the bodies of the poor were flooding the streets.   As solution to this,  Saints-Innocents cementery was created for the poor.  The poor were buried here in less regal style that usually involved being dumped in a sack into a mass grave.   This solution worked for a while and other mass burial plots for the poor were established.

However, by the 17th century even the mass graves of Saints-Innocents were overflowing and the sanitary conditions around these poor cementeries was becoming intolerable, even by 17th century standards.  The bones of the older dead were exhumed and laid in piles to make room for fresh corpses.  So that the cementery was laden with the unburied remains of the dead.    Luckily, the government was also looking for a solution to dealing with a series of abadoned quary mines beneath the city.   The solutions to the two problems came in the form of the l’Ossuaire Municipal, the official name for the catacombs.  

Alexandre Lenoir first had the idea to use empty underground tunnels to the outskirts of the capital to use as the ossuary. His successor, Thiroux de Crosne, chose a place and the exhumation and transfer of all Paris’ dead to the underground sepulture began in 1786.  At first the catacombs were merely a place to place the bones of the dead.  It wasn’t until Louis-Étienne Héricart de Thury assumed responsibility for the ossuary that it became a work of art.   He rearranged the skulls and bones to create symbolism within the tunnel and also added old cementery decorations to the underground mortuary to turn it into what you see within the catacombs today.

I’ve spent quite a bit of time on youtube today viewing videos of ghosts visitors of the catacombs have caught on tape. The list is more than lengthy and several people have caught honestly scary images of the spirits of the dead on tape in the catacombs. The stories of ghosts here are more than prolific.  The place is considered to be one of the most haunted places in the world and according to http://www.hauntedamericatours.com/FRANCE.php  the most haunted place in France.   To learn more about the catacombs or to find out how to visit them  go to http://www.catacombes-de-paris.fr/english.htm.

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The Franklin Murders: A Follow-up and Comments

by on Apr.04, 2017, under From the Web

Reposted from Ghost Stories and Haunted Places | Go to Original Post

In 1998, a teenager in Huntsville, Alabama killed his parents and attempted to kill his siblings.  His name was Jeffrey Franklin.  The event shook the small city of Huntsville and all those that were connected to the case.  There was a brutality to the events that was chilling and terrifying.  It was tragic.
I wrote a brief story about these events seven years ago.  This is story is an attempt to acknowledge the concerns of people who have stopped by to comment on that blog post over the years and to further discuss issues they had with the original story.  People still comment on that post regularly.  At the time I wrote the post, I never imagined so many people would actually read something I wrote.  I wasn’t a known writer and my blog was insignificant to say the least.  I wrote a story on Jeffrey Franklin thinking it would be mostly unread.  I wrote the story because that event had such an impact on me as a young woman and on so many people in my community and I felt like it was a story that needed to be told.  I got many of the details wrong in the story.  Many readers have stopped by to comment and give their perspectives on the story.  People who knew the Franklins told their stories and I realized that the story impacted everyone even vaguely associated with the family.  It was a tragedy that resonated so deeply that no one who witnessed it couldn’t be impacted.  My mother knew the Franklin family and knew Cindy Franklin, Jeffrey’s mother.  I had been a troubled teen and Cindy and my mother would talk. I had done well and moved on and my mother had offered Cindy advice on how to find help for a troubled teenager.  They went to church together and their talks were often spiritual. 
When Jeffrey Franklin killed his parents and attempted to kill his siblings, I can still remember the look on my mother’s face.  She couldn’t believe it.  She had taught Jeffrey in religious education at the church and had believed his story would unfold like mine.  He would be troubled and outgrow it and have a good life.  None of us knew how to respond.  Of course, my mother was hit hard as she thought Cindy was a good friend and a wonderful woman.  My mother still cries when she thinks of the children and Cindy and what it was like to see the children in the hospital the next day.
I wrote my first story on this blog when I believed that something Satanic had driven Jeffrey to do what he did.  He had claimed the devil (A figure with horns on his head and eyes) made him do it.  His writings prior to the murders have been released and show that Jeffrey was planning on offering his family as a sacrifice to Satan.  ( http://whnt.com/2016/05/25/jeffrey-franklins-dark-writings-foreshadowed-his-deadly-attack-on-his-family/ ) . If you follow the attached link, you can see Jeffrey’s letters and the three murder weapons.  The pictures are disturbing so I wouldn’t look if you are sensitive. Jeffrey’s writings were horrific and he offered himself up to Satan.  He also planned to get off on an insanity plea in the letters.  Jeffrey clearly was involved in the dark arts and Satanism and the murders were driven partly by this, but there is more to the story than this.
 Since I wrote the  first story, I have vastly changed my perspective on this case, partly because I have been blessed by so many people who were more involved in it that I was telling me their side of the story and partly because I now work with so many troubled teens at my office.  Either way, I wanted to update the initial story with comments and information that have come to me over the years. 
Later, I wrote another story on the Franklin case because a woman contacted me with a ghost story about the case. (http://ghoststoriesandhauntedplaces.blogspot.com/2010/11/tragic-ghost-of-murdered-mother.html).  She believed Cindy was haunting the nursing home where she used to work and she wanted me to tell the story.  I published that woman’s story anonymously and it was beautiful.  It even inspired one of the Franklin children to respond and reach out to me.  I was deeply moved by their stories and their hope and strength.   The first time I told the story it was a horror story.  Now, I hope it is a more real story.  I cannot tell this story as well as those who inspired it, so I have posted direct quotes from comments below.  I was moved by the people who wanted Jeffrey’s story told. They wanted people to understand his mental illness and how far he has come.  I was more deeply moved by the children who have a strength that I will never know.  They are amazing.  Here are a few of the comments and the stories that have come to me since my first story.  You can read the original story and all the comments at:
“In 2005, I was working at A. Rehab . Well, I’d heard stories of a phantom nurse who was said to walk the halls at night, but being a veteran of several nursing homes, I’d heard a lot of stories like that, seems like every nursing homes has it’s resident ghost. Turns out that this one was a little different. I was speaking to a couple of the night shift CNAs, (cna, in case you don’t know, is a Certified Nursing Assistant, which I was at the time, waiting on my nursing license to come through), and they had both told me of watching a nurse they didn’t recognize, walk down the hall and into a residents room, when they followed after her, and entered the room, the only ones there were the two residents that shared the room and they were sleeping, but the curtain between the beds was moving as if it had been pushed or disturbed. I dismissed it as a neat story but nothing more. The next week, I was waiting to clock out after finishing up my shift, and was standing at the time clock, with about 5 minutes to go, when I noticed that across the hall from where I was, the lights were on. The room I was looking into was the physical therapy department, it had double doors, and each had a window in the center. I thought maybe someone had just forgotten to turn off the lights, so I was going to go do that. I crossed the hall and looked into the room. Now this room is a rectangular shape, and if you were looking into it from the door, you would be looking in from one of the long sides of the rectangle, and the other side of the room was lined with windows looking out on an open area outside. It was 11:00 at night so it was dark outside, making the windows into the room very reflective and mirror-like, as I was looking in, I saw the reflection of a nurse, in front of me, slightly to my left, walking very fast, moving from right to left. Well, my initial thought was that someone was in that room and they were exiting through a side door. I saw this very clearly, it was a female, dressed in a white nurses uniform, white skirt, and top, no hat, she was about 5’5″ or so, with dark hair just below her collar. She didn’t look left or right, but moved straight ahead, very fast and with a purpose. I grabbed the doorknob and tried to open the door, but it was locked, upon further investigation, it turns out that someone had apparently left the lights on, and that there was no other door way to enter or exit, also, after looking in for a while, I realized that due to the windows on the other side of the room, I could see the entire room, and it was completely empty. Then I remembered the phantom nurse story and the reality of what I had seen started to set in and I got creeped out, I crossed the hall, clocked out, went home, and didn’t sleep well.

What does this have to do with poor Mrs. Franklin? Here’s how it came together for me. 6 months later, I was now an lpn, and I worked at another nursing home in  Huntsville, one night over dinner, i was talking to another nurse and I happened to tell her this story, when I described what I’d seen, her eyes got very large, and her exact words were, “I bet that’s Cynthia!”. Not being from this area, I didn’t know who she was talking about. She then went on to tell me that “Cynthia” was Cynthia Franklin, and that she had known her and that they worked at A. Rehab together. She went on to tell me that her son Jeffrey had, in the late ’90s, flipped out and murdered her and other family members. At the time, I thought that even if this was this Cynthia, why the heck she would hang around a nursing home she worked at after her death. Jump forward a couple years, I’m currently employed at another nursing home here in Huntsville, I was telling this story to another nurse and when I got to the part where the last nurse had told me her name, the one I was speaking with told very matter of factly, “Oh, yeah, I was working with Cynthia when it happened, I knew her very well”, and here’s when it all clicked. The nurse I was talking too, was a lady named Jane Doe who had been there at A. Rehab, she and Cynthia worked together and she explained to me that Cynthia would often stay at work until 2 or 3 in the morning, because she was afraid of her son and she didn’t feel safe or comfortable in her own home. Stella told me that the only place she felt safe was at work, so she stayed there as much as she could. So know for some reason, I, a complete stranger to the Franklins and for no reasons other than sheer coincidence had learned the identity of the phantom nurse at A. Rehab, and as a bonus, I even understood why she was there. It was the only place she felt safe for her, so she comes back. If you ask day shift personnel, they’ll tell you they’ve never heard of a phantom nurse, but you ask the night shift CNAs, the longtime employees, and you’ll get a different story, if you can get them to talk about it at all.

I have to say, I don’t tell you this lightly, and I don’t know if I would like for this to be made public, after all, her kids are still alive and this would I’m sure be a very sensitive subject to them and others who might have known and loved this lady. Also, it seems that I cannot escape the Franklin case as it turns out that upon over hearing me talking to Jane Doe, one of my CNAs had currently been working Huntsville Hospital at the time and she was one of the aides that helped take care of the children there. According to her, those children were the most pitiful that anyone had seen, and everyone worked very hard to help them, but they all thought those kids’ story was one of the saddest they had heard, you could hear the sadness in her voice and see it in her eyes when spoke of them. I just thought it was strange how all these details kept revealing themselves to me, and how I keep getting glimpses into this case that I have no ties to, or reason to know these things.”

“Thank you very much for sharing this story. My name is Sara Franklin (well, Deitzman now). Cynthia was my mother. To me, this story is not upsetting. It is amazing to hear about my mom after almost 15 years, to find out that she seems to be continuing what she did after death. Do you still see her?”
“Mrs. Deitzman,
Although I returned to work at that place in 2014, I have not seen her, they’ve added a huge new wing and that’s primarily where I worked. I still continued to have weird coincidences happen, like after this story was posted by Jessica, I became her coworker and, (I hope), friend, and upon returning to that Facility, I met a nurse who was a friend of the family who told me she had actually been to your house the night that it all happened. I no longer worker there, having moved on to greener pastures.”
Comments from the original post:
“We’re all doin alright. This is Tim Franklin. Yes, it was pretty messed up but that’s what happens when you fuck with that many different drugs. Anyway, interesting horror writing.. Definitely makes it sound pretty brutal…”
“I personally witness this guy at a friends house couple nights before, he was doing ritalin, xanax, cocaine and think klonopin. Most of us were tripping on acid that night (alot) and he passed out on the couch. I personally wrote on his forehead with a sharpie “I eat D**K”. Ha messing with the Dark Arts, I believe it was all the drugs he was snorting, and mentally jacked up.”
“I am a close family friend of the Franklin’s and have between since u was 5. They were also our neighbors until the massacre took place. Ms. Penot, several of the things you wrote about what happened are incorrect. But I did find it an interesting read and as a lifelong Huntsvillian, completely agree with the way you described our city, though it had grown substantially in size and population since. You might consider researching what happened a little more so you can fix some of the misinformation in your story and make it more informative for those reading. Thanks for posting and putting some of the odd instances of our town out there to those interested! Hope I don’t sound rude, that is certainly not my intention. –Nikki”
“He is in Donaldson Correctional Facility, and he gets a hearing for Parole in June of 2016.”

“I was the 911 calltaker for this incident. I visited his siblings at Huntsville Hospital the next day, and I am amazed at how well they recovered. They kids were taken to New York to live with their Uncle, who I believe was a doctor up there. I can honestly tell you that call was the worst I ever answered. I hope I can be at the parole hearing to lend support to his victims and see him rot in prison for a much longer time.”
“Jeff is in Bullock Correctional, a medium security prison just south of Montgomery. he is still in the mental health block but is far from crazy. he got his GED years ago, knows Spanish, took drafting and art classes at Donalson Correctional. he has a very positive attitude. he was denied parole but will be up again in 5 yrs.there are 4 of us that correspond with Jeff and some of us even visit. if any of you close friends of his or the family would like to drop him a line or Christmas card i will publish the address.”
“Hello. I’m In case anyone is still interested he is actually diagnosed with schizophrenia. I know a family member and many of the details. And i agree with Nikki that if you’re going to post a story like this you have to get the facts straight.but i can see why you are so interested in this event. I don’t think he’ll ever be getting out of prison. His letters to the judge are bizarre and he gets the best treatment for his mental state in there.”
More Information:

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The Disappearing Cross

by on Mar.27, 2017, under From the Web

Reposted from Ghost Stories and Haunted Places | Go to Original Post

 
This story was sent to me by Keith Linder.  It is a chilling tale. If you would like to learn more about the paranormal investigation associated with this first hand account of hostile haunting you can read more about it at:
 
 
“I will always remember the events of this day.  It was the weekend Captain America the Winter Soldier came out. April 2014.

A month before this movie premier, I wanted to enjoy my cousin’s spring break, she was a school teacher – 8th and 9th grade level.  She was aware of some of the problems we having prior to arriving.  I had kept her in the know about some of the events me and my girlfriend were experiencing.  One Bible having gone missing for over a year returned one night on fire.  Loud bangs, loud thuds, phantom footsteps, and yes a even a flying Amoire.   It was for those reasons, she bought a cross with her when she arrived. A gift. Something she wanted us to hang on the bedroom wall.  To protect us. Written on the cross were Bible, Joshua 1:9, Phil 4:13, Psalm 28:7 and Matthew 19:26; each verse spoke about maintaining one’s strength, one’s faith during troubling times.

The cross was prayed over and immediately hung in our bedroom. The bedroom at that time was the third most active place of the house; it’s also the place where we sleep.  So, a cross positioned high upon the wall seemed a great idea.  This was March.  Mid March I believe.  April arrives.

A week or so before the Captain America movie came out, the cross went missing. Missing objects in our home are not new and not a big deal. Things get taken all the time. Sometimes they return; sometimes they don’t. The items that do return are never found in their original spot. This cross would be no exception.

I woke up one morning, my girlfriend was beside me – I looked at the wall the cross was on and saw that it was gone.  I told my girlfriend almost immediately.

Other religious objects have been taken already, some broken, some turned to sit upside down, some relocated and some just outright stolen.   Whether one cross goes missing or twenty crosses go missing our reaction was always the same.  What the heck is going on? 

The cross is gone. It’s missing. My girlfriend and I had already given up on the notion of even looking for it. After all, it was a gift from my cousin, a spiritual gift at that.  No use looking for it, no one else lived with us, and objects get taken all the time. Whatever object we set out to look for, we never find.  This cross would be no exception.  My girlfriend and I talked about the cross being gone. I emailed my cousin the next day to tell her, she was shock.  The weekend arrives.

It’s Saturday morning (movie day), and the cross is still missing. Like most Saturdays in my house, it was laundry day. I started doing my laundry early that day so I could go meet one of my friends for drinks.    Drinks and movie. That was the plan.

I began my first load of laundry: colored clothing. My girlfriend, Tina, is walking around the house doing her own thing. While my clothes are washing, I decide to go into my office and watch TV.  About an hour later, I noticed something peculiar. My first load of clothing was still washing. Now I know there are long wash cycles but this was weird – my brain knows how long it takes for my clothes to wash. So I’m in my office and I glance toward the wash room, hoping to hear the beep beep beep, the noise the washing machine makes when it’s done. Clothes don’t wash for an hour, especially my clothes, and especially a light load of clothing. So I glance at the wash room and sort of look at the clock on my PC toolbar , I think to myself what’s taking my clothes so long to wash.

A few minutes later I hear this knocking sound: a banging and knocking. You know, the sound the washing machine or dryer makes when you’re washing your shoes.   I hear this noise, and it’s clearly coming from the washing machine. So, once again, I glance up from my PC and turn to face the washing machine or wash room.

Now in my mind I’m thinking – that sound wasn’t there before? All I put in the washing machine was clothing. Coins, chap stick, keys, etc. wouldn’t make that noise. And even if it did, those sounds would have been heard almost immediately. At this point, the wash cycle had been running for  nearly over an hour. So why the loud noises now? Normally I would get up, walk to the washing machine and open it up to see what the commotion was about. Normally that’s what I would have done.   It was very uncharacteristic of me to not stop what I was doing and investigate. Looking back and reliving the moment, it seems weird for me to not get up and investigate the noise, especially with the previous events having happened in this house. I acknowledged the noise, and length of time it was taking for that load to complete.  But nothing was motivating me to go see what was taking so long. 

Minutes later, the washing machine beeped informing me that the load was complete.  I got up and went to the washing machine to transfer my clothes to the dryer. As I was pulling out clothes and tossing them into the dryer.  I immediately grabbed hold of something solid. Not clothing. Not shoes. Not anything except a metallic-wooden cross. I didn’t know what it was until I pulled it out of the washing machine.  There in my hand in two pieces is the cross my cousin gave me.

Now some might say, “Well maybe the cross was in there to begin with.” Not so. As I mentioned prior, the  would have been heard early on, especially during the spin cycle. The knocking noises I heard began 15 minutes before the washing was complete. When my machine is done it beeps. And also the washing machine was empty when I filled it with my clothing. Some might say, “Maybe you accidentally put the cross in the machine when you loaded in the clothes.” Nope. It was a colored clothing load (machine wash COLD/WARM). I sorted my clothing carefully meaning items went into the machine almost one at a time. A cross this size was not going to be grabbed by mistake.  I’m talking about an eight-to ten inch cross. 8 inches long. 3 1/2 inches wide.  This wasn’t a necklace.

Someone might also think might girlfriend put the cross in the machine. My girlfriend was nowhere near the washing machine that day, and I never left my office. The washroom sits right outside my office. And she wouldn’t stop my wash load regardless. I do my own laundry, and she does hers.

I had to get those particulars out of the way because I realize people gravitate to the obvious explanation. And that is understandable but allow me to paint the picture near perfect as possible because it even hasn’t began to get weird yet. In my hand is the cross my cousin gave me. It was wet and broken. I then called my girlfriend to the room. When she arrived, we both examined the cross from top to bottom. It had been taken the week before, about 5 days prior to turning up in the washing machine. I ended up fixing that cross. I put it back in it’s original spot.  It would go missing a few more  times. It never appeared in the washing machine again. 

A few weeks later 2 Bibles caught fire.  A month or so after the Bibles catching fire another Bible went missing.  It has never returned.”



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The Disappearing Cross

by on Mar.27, 2017, under From the Web

Reposted from Ghost Stories and Haunted Places | Go to Original Post

 
This story was sent to me by Keith Linder.  It is a chilling tale. If you would like to learn more about the paranormal investigation associated with this first hand account of hostile haunting you can read more about it at:
 
 
“I will always remember the events of this day.  It was the weekend Captain America the Winter Soldier came out. April 2014.

A month before this movie premier, I wanted to enjoy my cousin’s spring break, she was a school teacher – 8th and 9th grade level.  She was aware of some of the problems we having prior to arriving.  I had kept her in the know about some of the events me and my girlfriend were experiencing.  One Bible having gone missing for over a year returned one night on fire.  Loud bangs, loud thuds, phantom footsteps, and yes a even a flying Amoire.   It was for those reasons, she bought a cross with her when she arrived. A gift. Something she wanted us to hang on the bedroom wall.  To protect us. Written on the cross were Bible, Joshua 1:9, Phil 4:13, Psalm 28:7 and Matthew 19:26; each verse spoke about maintaining one’s strength, one’s faith during troubling times.

The cross was prayed over and immediately hung in our bedroom. The bedroom at that time was the third most active place of the house; it’s also the place where we sleep.  So, a cross positioned high upon the wall seemed a great idea.  This was March.  Mid March I believe.  April arrives.

A week or so before the Captain America movie came out, the cross went missing. Missing objects in our home are not new and not a big deal. Things get taken all the time. Sometimes they return; sometimes they don’t. The items that do return are never found in their original spot. This cross would be no exception.

I woke up one morning, my girlfriend was beside me – I looked at the wall the cross was on and saw that it was gone.  I told my girlfriend almost immediately.

Other religious objects have been taken already, some broken, some turned to sit upside down, some relocated and some just outright stolen.   Whether one cross goes missing or twenty crosses go missing our reaction was always the same.  What the heck is going on? 

The cross is gone. It’s missing. My girlfriend and I had already given up on the notion of even looking for it. After all, it was a gift from my cousin, a spiritual gift at that.  No use looking for it, no one else lived with us, and objects get taken all the time. Whatever object we set out to look for, we never find.  This cross would be no exception.  My girlfriend and I talked about the cross being gone. I emailed my cousin the next day to tell her, she was shock.  The weekend arrives.

It’s Saturday morning (movie day), and the cross is still missing. Like most Saturdays in my house, it was laundry day. I started doing my laundry early that day so I could go meet one of my friends for drinks.    Drinks and movie. That was the plan.

I began my first load of laundry: colored clothing. My girlfriend, Tina, is walking around the house doing her own thing. While my clothes are washing, I decide to go into my office and watch TV.  About an hour later, I noticed something peculiar. My first load of clothing was still washing. Now I know there are long wash cycles but this was weird – my brain knows how long it takes for my clothes to wash. So I’m in my office and I glance toward the wash room, hoping to hear the beep beep beep, the noise the washing machine makes when it’s done. Clothes don’t wash for an hour, especially my clothes, and especially a light load of clothing. So I glance at the wash room and sort of look at the clock on my PC toolbar , I think to myself what’s taking my clothes so long to wash.

A few minutes later I hear this knocking sound: a banging and knocking. You know, the sound the washing machine or dryer makes when you’re washing your shoes.   I hear this noise, and it’s clearly coming from the washing machine. So, once again, I glance up from my PC and turn to face the washing machine or wash room.

Now in my mind I’m thinking – that sound wasn’t there before? All I put in the washing machine was clothing. Coins, chap stick, keys, etc. wouldn’t make that noise. And even if it did, those sounds would have been heard almost immediately. At this point, the wash cycle had been running for  nearly over an hour. So why the loud noises now? Normally I would get up, walk to the washing machine and open it up to see what the commotion was about. Normally that’s what I would have done.   It was very uncharacteristic of me to not stop what I was doing and investigate. Looking back and reliving the moment, it seems weird for me to not get up and investigate the noise, especially with the previous events having happened in this house. I acknowledged the noise, and length of time it was taking for that load to complete.  But nothing was motivating me to go see what was taking so long. 

Minutes later, the washing machine beeped informing me that the load was complete.  I got up and went to the washing machine to transfer my clothes to the dryer. As I was pulling out clothes and tossing them into the dryer.  I immediately grabbed hold of something solid. Not clothing. Not shoes. Not anything except a metallic-wooden cross. I didn’t know what it was until I pulled it out of the washing machine.  There in my hand in two pieces is the cross my cousin gave me.

Now some might say, “Well maybe the cross was in there to begin with.” Not so. As I mentioned prior, the  would have been heard early on, especially during the spin cycle. The knocking noises I heard began 15 minutes before the washing was complete. When my machine is done it beeps. And also the washing machine was empty when I filled it with my clothing. Some might say, “Maybe you accidentally put the cross in the machine when you loaded in the clothes.” Nope. It was a colored clothing load (machine wash COLD/WARM). I sorted my clothing carefully meaning items went into the machine almost one at a time. A cross this size was not going to be grabbed by mistake.  I’m talking about an eight-to ten inch cross. 8 inches long. 3 1/2 inches wide.  This wasn’t a necklace.

Someone might also think might girlfriend put the cross in the machine. My girlfriend was nowhere near the washing machine that day, and I never left my office. The washroom sits right outside my office. And she wouldn’t stop my wash load regardless. I do my own laundry, and she does hers.

I had to get those particulars out of the way because I realize people gravitate to the obvious explanation. And that is understandable but allow me to paint the picture near perfect as possible because it even hasn’t began to get weird yet. In my hand is the cross my cousin gave me. It was wet and broken. I then called my girlfriend to the room. When she arrived, we both examined the cross from top to bottom. It had been taken the week before, about 5 days prior to turning up in the washing machine. I ended up fixing that cross. I put it back in it’s original spot.  It would go missing a few more  times. It never appeared in the washing machine again. 

A few weeks later 2 Bibles caught fire.  A month or so after the Bibles catching fire another Bible went missing.  It has never returned.”



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Are Teenage Girls More Able to See Shadow People?

by on Mar.22, 2017, under From the Web

Reposted from Ghost Stories and Haunted Places | Go to Original Post

Over the years, I have worked with numerous teenagers.  I am a therapist, so most of the teens I see are struggling with some massive issue in their life.  They are unhappy with their family, they have been abused, or they have mental illnesses.  Many issues have brought teenagers to my sofa and I love working with teenagers.  They are open and willing to try new things.  They haven’t been so scared that they can’t change.  Over the last several months, I have become profoundly aware of a trend I have seen in a couple dozen of the teenage girls I have seen over the years.  I have noticed that over my long history of practice, many teen and preteen girls ages 10-15 have come to me saying they see shadow people.

From a clinical perspective, it is easy to say that flushes of hormones through the brain and the unique social stressors of puberty and adolescence at this age push young adolescent girls over the edge and they begin to imagine things.  Neurologically adolescent children are going through radical change and it could cause shadow like visions.  The girls who come to me with the shadow person issues have many different philosophical and religious orientations and perceive the shadow people as different things.  Some girls think they are ghosts.  Others think they are demons.  Quite a few of my girls have believed they are going crazy and that they are hallucinations.  It should be noted that none of these girls have ever had any other symptoms consistent with psychosis.

As I also am interested in the paranormal, I also think it is relevant that poltergeist activity is most common in children ages 10-15.  Poltergeist activity has been reported since the Roman Empire and history is littered with tales of young girls haunted by ghosts and hostile spirits.  In a recent article in the new scientists theorists described this activity as being attributed to changes in the brain during puberty.  “Rovetto and Maxia hypothesize that the changes in the brain that occur at puberty involve fluctuations in electron activity.” (https://www.newscientist.com/article/dn13563-theyre-here-the-mechanism-of-poltergeist-activity/).

In the paranormal community, shadow people and poltergeists are believed to be very different beings.  Shadow people are thought to be hostile spirits, demons or ghosts as poltergeists are thought to be the manifestations of telekinetic power in young teenagers.  Shadow People are sometimes linked to hypnogogic dreams or sleep paralysis, but these girls were all wide awake when they saw their shadow people.  So this leads me to the question?  Could these girls actually be more perceptive and more open to seeing into the spirit world?  Could they actually be seeing ghosts?

From a clinical perspective, I have to say no, but the ghost story collector in me has to wonder if it isn’t something paranormal.  Perhaps puberty opens these girls up to something larger and the terror associated with this is what should be treated?

Interesting Links:
https://www.thoughtco.com/shadow-people-2596772
https://www.newscientist.com/article/dn13563-theyre-here-the-mechanism-of-poltergeist-activity/
https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/the-teen-brain-still-under-construction/index.shtml
http://www.unexplainedstuff.com/Ghosts-and-Phantoms/Ghostly-Beings-Poltergeists.html

Leave a Comment more...

Are Teenage Girls More Able to See Shadow People?

by on Mar.22, 2017, under From the Web

Reposted from Ghost Stories and Haunted Places | Go to Original Post

Over the years, I have worked with numerous teenagers.  I am a therapist, so most of the teens I see are struggling with some massive issue in their life.  They are unhappy with their family, they have been abused, or they have mental illnesses.  Many issues have brought teenagers to my sofa and I love working with teenagers.  They are open and willing to try new things.  They haven’t been so scared that they can’t change.  Over the last several months, I have become profoundly aware of a trend I have seen in a couple dozen of the teenage girls I have seen over the years.  I have noticed that over my long history of practice, many teen and preteen girls ages 10-15 have come to me saying they see shadow people.

From a clinical perspective, it is easy to say that flushes of hormones through the brain and the unique social stressors of puberty and adolescence at this age push young adolescent girls over the edge and they begin to imagine things.  Neurologically adolescent children are going through radical change and it could cause shadow like visions.  The girls who come to me with the shadow person issues have many different philosophical and religious orientations and perceive the shadow people as different things.  Some girls think they are ghosts.  Others think they are demons.  Quite a few of my girls have believed they are going crazy and that they are hallucinations.  It should be noted that none of these girls have ever had any other symptoms consistent with psychosis.

As I also am interested in the paranormal, I also think it is relevant that poltergeist activity is most common in children ages 10-15.  Poltergeist activity has been reported since the Roman Empire and history is littered with tales of young girls haunted by ghosts and hostile spirits.  In a recent article in the new scientists theorists described this activity as being attributed to changes in the brain during puberty.  “Rovetto and Maxia hypothesize that the changes in the brain that occur at puberty involve fluctuations in electron activity.” (https://www.newscientist.com/article/dn13563-theyre-here-the-mechanism-of-poltergeist-activity/).

In the paranormal community, shadow people and poltergeists are believed to be very different beings.  Shadow people are thought to be hostile spirits, demons or ghosts as poltergeists are thought to be the manifestations of telekinetic power in young teenagers.  Shadow People are sometimes linked to hypnogogic dreams or sleep paralysis, but these girls were all wide awake when they saw their shadow people.  So this leads me to the question?  Could these girls actually be more perceptive and more open to seeing into the spirit world?  Could they actually be seeing ghosts?

From a clinical perspective, I have to say no, but the ghost story collector in me has to wonder if it isn’t something paranormal.  Perhaps puberty opens these girls up to something larger and the terror associated with this is what should be treated?

Interesting Links:
https://www.thoughtco.com/shadow-people-2596772
https://www.newscientist.com/article/dn13563-theyre-here-the-mechanism-of-poltergeist-activity/
https://www.nimh.nih.gov/health/publications/the-teen-brain-still-under-construction/index.shtml
http://www.unexplainedstuff.com/Ghosts-and-Phantoms/Ghostly-Beings-Poltergeists.html

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