The Visitor

Thanks to my Aunt Raven for this story!

Vito lived with his wife, Madeline, and baby son, Victor, in a courtyard apartment on Barnes Avenue in the Bronx.  Their next door neighbor, George, was a nice, elderly gentleman.  Vito and Madeline weren’t particularly close with George and didn’t know much about him.  All they really knew was that he lived alone and had been a widower for many years.

Vito didn’t have much interest in the paranormal, so he didn’t believe in ghosts.  Then he had a strange experience that he couldn’t explain.  One night in 1964, Vito was awoken by a cold breeze blowing through his bedroom.  Perhaps his wife had forgotten to shut the windows before coming to bed.  He decided to get up to check the house.  That’s when he saw the woman standing on the other side of the room by his son’s crib.  She was wearing a long, white, old-fashioned dress and had her hair tied up in a bun.  The old woman looked as if she belonged to another era and had just stepped out of a black and white photograph.

“What are you doing?  Get away from him!” shouted Vito.

The woman turned to look at Vito.  She lifted her hand and Vito sank back down on the edge of the bed.  She spoke to him in a calm manner.  “No, it’s okay.  I just stopped for a moment, but I’m in the wrong place.”  After saying this, she turned around and disappeared through the wall.

Vito rubbed his face.  He looked over at Madeline, who had slept through the whole event.  He got up to check his son.  Victor was fine.  Like his mother, he had been undisturbed by the stranger’s appearance.  Thinking that he must have been dreaming, Vito went to the bathroom and splashed water on his face.  Then he went back to bed.

The next day, they found out that their neighbor, George, had passed away during the night.  Raven is a few years younger than her brother, so this happened before she was born.  She wonders if the ghostly woman who appeared to her father that night was George’s wife coming to get him.

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.

 

 

 

The Haunting of The Royalton Hotel

Lady Rhea was contacted in 1991 to do a séance for the Royalton Hotel in New York City. They had had complaints about an aggressive spirit haunting the hotel and the staff were curious if she could make contact with the spirit. Rhea agreed to look into the matter and enlisted her two close friends, Tony and Raven, to help her.

On the assigned date, Rhea, Raven, and Tony arrived at the Royalton Hotel to conduct the séance. They were led to a small hotel room on the second floor. Rhea and Raven worked the Ouija Board, while Tony recorded the responses. Nine staff members joined them for the séance making a total of twelve people in the room.

At first, they had sporadic contact with several energies. The spirit of a little boy came through the board asking if anyone had seen his mother. After the young boy left, heavy footsteps could be heard walking outside the door in the hallway. Then they felt the presence of a male spirit enter the room. Rhea got the impression that he was a finely dressed, tall man with dark hair. He had a gruff voice and a tough guy attitude.

“What is your name?” asked Rhea.

“William Rose,” he spelt out on the board.

One of the hotel staff jumped up, “As in Billy Rose?”

The pointer circled the word “YES” rapidly. “Ooh, he’s cranky,” said Raven. “Do you know him?” asked Rhea. The staff member swallowed. “We know of him. He used to live here back in the days when the place was a residential hotel.”

Rhea turned back to the board. “Are you the ghost haunting this floor?” The spirit moved the pointer to “YES” again. Now that the spirit had fully established his presence, he started calling out staff members in the room and asking them questions.

“Where’s Red?” he asked. Red was the nickname for a manager who was supposed to be on call that night, but had called out of work. “Why do you want to know?” asked Rhea. William responded back smartly, “I wanted to talk to him.” The room fell silent.

Next, William indicated a female worker that was in the room and said, “I’ve seen you taking a nap in room 307.” The woman’s eyes went wide. “Well, I’ll never lay down in there again,” she said.

“Okay. I have some questions for you now. Would you be willing to answer them for me?” asked Rhea. William said that he would. “Why do you push people in the hall?” asked Rhea. William smirked, “Cause they’re stepping on my newspaper. Next question.”

“Why aren’t you moving on to the light? Are you stuck? Do you need help?”

William answered solemnly, “I’m waiting for Edie.”

It was around one in the morning by this point, so Rhea wrapped up the séance. On the way home, Rhea, Raven, and Tony were questioning what had happened that night. Raven was driving, Rhea was up front in the passenger seat, and Tony was in the back. They were driving by the side of a cliff on Wendover Road when all three were overwhelmed by the scent of roses and the car went into a 360-degree spin.

“Stop it, Raven!” screamed Rhea, thinking Raven had spun the wheel too hard on the turn.

“It’s not me,” shouted Raven.

Just as quickly as it started, the car stopped. The scent of roses disappeared. There were no roses growing along the highway. It was a clear night. The roads were clean, there wasn’t any ice or rain, and they hadn’t driven over an oil spill. Rhea felt that William Rose had spun the car and made it smell like roses to show them that he was real. A few months later, Rhea mentioned the incident to one of her clients. The customer said that she knew the Edie who William Rose was referring to. Edie was elderly and had recently moved into a nursing home. William was waiting for her to pass on, so that they could move on into the light together.

Picture for Royalton Hotel Article - Public Domain Archive
Public Domain Archive

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.

 

 

 

Glimpse of a Reaper

One of the things that bothers me about being psychic is the inability to control it or the type of information that I receive. I am not a psychic consultant or spiritual practitioner like my mother who makes her living from her abilities, so in many cases, the information just gets dumped into my head without much warning. Perhaps this is something every person with psychic abilities deals with.

I have had premonitions of death before. I knew that there was something wrong with my Grandfather months before he started showing any signs of illness. Loved ones have visited me in dreams to tell me that they are getting ready to pass. Again, I have no control over this. Sometimes I get messages and sometimes I don’t. It’s as simple as that.

Years ago, I was doing the dishes while my husband was taking care of our sick canary, Tweety. As I was running the water over my hands, I got an image of Tweety dying. I started to shake it off, only to hear my husband scream out the bird’s name from the other room. I dropped the dish I was washing, turned the water off, and ran into our living room. Tweety had passed away in my husband’s hands.

Over the past six months, I had started to worry about our pet parakeet, Skye. He was already seven years old, but seemed healthy enough. I put it down to my own anxiety and dismissed the worries as much as possible, but the ominous feeling kept nagging at me from time to time. Then a few weeks ago, Skye started losing his feathers on his lower quarters and seemed to have a protrusion of some kind, so my husband and I took him to the vet.

After the examination, the vet told us that there were two possibilities. Either, Skye was overweight and that was causing his feathers to fall out or he had a tumor. The vet explained that if it was a tumor, Skye would probably die from complications or shock from the surgery. If it wasn’t that, he was just too fat and losing weight would help. He advised us to change Skye’s diet and keep him as comfortable as possible.

We took Skye home and followed the vet’s instructions. While Skye’s feathers started to grow back, he also began having issues with his balance. He didn’t move around the cage as much and he stopped talking. Losing balance and being on the bottom of the cage were two of the things that the vet had warned us could be signs of a tumor, which again was inoperable.

Our apartment has large bay windows that look out over the small courtyard and pathway that runs through our housing complex. Last week, my husband and I were talking to my mother on speaker phone, when I spied a dark, hooded figure standing in the garden. The figure looked to be at least six or seven feet tall and was wearing a black cloak. It was around 6pm, but there was plenty of light coming from the lamp posts and the neighboring school’s soccer field. As I turned to get a better look, the apparition walked through the wrought iron stair railing by our house and vanished. The figure had appeared completely solid one minute and then dematerialized. I do not recall seeing a face of any sort, just blackness beneath the dark hood.

I told my husband that someone had been in the garden. He checked, but didn’t see anyone. I couldn’t get a reading on the spirit to figure out if it was benign, malevolent, female, or male. Freaked out, I closed the blinds and did a cleansing of the house. I had seen shadowy figures before, but never anything like that. I called my mom and told her about the apparition. I said that it reminded of an entity, rather than a ghost. The figure had immediately made me think of Death.

I felt a little better after the cleansing and decided to go to bed earlier than usual. For some reason, I didn’t want to be up alone by myself. This is odd for me since I am naturally a night person. Skye chirped at me when I came into the bedroom. He had taken to telling me off for disturbing him in the middle of the night as he got older. I fixed his cage cover and told him to go back to sleep.

The next morning, I woke up and found Skye lying dead at the bottom of his cage. He had passed sometime in the night. Up until this moment, I didn’t believe in the Grim Reaper. Now, I’m not so sure.

Have you ever experienced a premonition of death? Share your experiences and thoughts in the comments.

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.

 

Haunted Roads in South Wales

Thanks to Gafyn from Swansea, Wales for this story!  You can also read Gafyn’s first story, Adventures with Ghosts

Gafyn grew up in Cilfynydd, Pontypridd in South Wales.  The area is known for high levels of spirit activity.  This is thought to be partially due to The Albion Disaster, a devastating mine explosion that killed “290 men and boys” in June, 1894.  For more information on The Albion Disaster, please see, “Albion Colliery: The Forgotten Mining Disaster” by Rhiannon Beacham of BBC News.

One day when Gafyn was in his late teens, an older friend of his invited him out for a drive.  The friend would not reveal anything about where they were going, but Gafyn sensed that it had something to do with the paranormal.  Sometimes his friends liked to see if Gafyn could pick up on ghosts that were in the area.  It was all in fun, so Gafyn decided to go along with it.

They had been out for a while when a car appeared behind them.  It seemed to come from out of nowhere.  Gafyn thought that it looked like a Ford Capri.  The car was close on their tail.  Trying to shake it off, his friend started swerving, but the car kept up with them the whole time.  That was when they noticed two other things.  The car behind them was not making any noise as it sped along the road and the car had no one inside of it.

Then just as suddenly as the car had first shown up, it disappeared again.  The road that they were driving on was a single road with tall hedges on either side.  There were no gaps for a car to turn off the road.  Gafyn and his friend went back to see if they could find the car, but came back empty-handed.  They scanned the area for skid marks or tire tracks and found none.  They drove back to where the mysterious car had originally appeared and still couldn’t locate it.

Figuring it would be easier to search the area when it was light out, Gafyn returned the next day.  After another fruitless endeavor, he stopped by The Queen’s Head, a well-known local pub.  Gafyn told his story to the bartender and discovered that many people had come in over the years to report a car crash where the vehicle vanishes and is never found.

Other strange things are known to happen in Gafyn’s neighborhood after dark.  Sometimes a little girl appears walking along the road looking lost.  People will stop in their cars to give her a lift.  Then as they are driving her back home, she suddenly disappears from the back seat of the car.  Gafyn once ran into a couple who had just experienced this and were frantically searching the road for the missing child.  Gafyn explained the legend to them and they felt better about it, albeit a bit spooked.

To read more about Gafyn’s adventures, check out Gaf’s Other Interests on Facebook.

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.

The Invisible Playmate

This story was told to me by a friend who wishes to remain anonymous.  I have changed the names in the story for privacy reasons.

Paranormal investigators and ghost fanatics have many theories about spirits and the afterlife.  We scrutinize pictures, videos, voice recordings, and reports of eye-witness accounts for signs of hauntings.  While we may have different ideas based on our beliefs and experiences, we share a love for the exploration of the spirit realm and its mysteries.

One such theory is the presence of spirits around babies and young children.  Have you ever seen a baby or a young child carrying on a conversation, but you couldn’t see anyone next to them?  The child believes that this person is real and might even have a name for his or her friend.  Children are naturally more imaginative than adults.  Since they have not been conditioned to dismiss what others cannot see, they constantly live between the worlds of make-believe and reality.  While some may call it an “imaginary friend,” many in the paranormal field believe that there is a chance that this invisible person is either a spirit guide, guardian, or even a ghost.

Knowing that I love ghost stories, my friend recently told me about some things that are happening with her niece, Julie.  Ever since she was a baby, Julie has spoken to someone who none of her family can see.  Her parents would hear her moving around and making noise at two in the morning.  When they went to check on her, they would find Julie sitting up, clapping her hands, and babbling at a corner of the wall by her crib.  She did not look at her parents or involve them in this play.  Instead, she would keep up this game, all the while staring at the wall.  Then suddenly she would wave good-bye, roll over, and go back to sleep.  Although slightly concerned with this behavior, the parents figured she was just self-soothing by entertaining herself with a game until she was too tired to stay awake.

The family lives in a different house now.  Julie is two years old and learning to talk.  She still plays with this unseen friend, only now he has a name.  She has told her mommy and daddy that her friend is an old man named Jimmy.  Sometimes she wakes up in her bed and says that the “old man” scared her.  If her mom asks where Jimmy is, Julie will point out where she sees him.  Sometimes he is in her playroom, but other times, Julie will take her mother’s hand and search the house until she finds him.  She has also said that Jimmy is not here right now, but that he said that he would come back later.

“Jimmy” was the name of Julie’s great-grandfather.  He died before any of his great-grandchildren were born, so Julie never met him.  The mother has started experiencing some weird phenomena as well.  Sometimes when she is working in the den, the room will grow heavy with the scent of tobacco.  Neither she or her husband smoke.  However, Great-Grandpa Jimmy was a big smoker.

baby-tara-with-spirit

Photo: The above photo is a baby picture of me with my father.  The reason why I posted it is because you can see some mist or other light anomaly by my feet and next to me on the couch.  The pajamas did not have any reflective material like sequins on it.  Perhaps there was a spirit or two next to me? 

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me an email to theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview.

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.

             

Adventures with Ghosts

Thanks to Gafyn from Swansea, Wales for this story!

Gafyn has seen spirits ever since he was a little boy.  Walking down the street with his mother, he would do his best to maneuver around the ghosts passing by them.  Sometimes they even walked right through him.  When people asked if her son was okay, Gafyn’s mother would reply, “Yes, he just sees a lot more than you or I can.”

At one point, his mother decided to bring Gafyn to see his great-aunt, Phillis Mules, who was also a Medium.  She was well-known between the 1960s to 1980s and even helped with police investigations.  Aunt Phillis led Gafyn and his mother into a room and asked them to sit down.  Next, she called a friend in to talk to Gafyn.  Gafyn started talking to the person as if everything was completely normal.

When he looked at his mother, he noticed that she was tearing up.  His mother could not see the other person in the room like Gafyn and his aunt could.  At his aunt’s request, the spirit had entered the room and struck up a conversation with Gafyn to test if he had the gift of seeing and hearing spirits.  The ghost disappeared after a brief talk with Gafyn.  Aunt Phillis had been standing with her back to the door the whole time.  She nodded, smiling at Gafyn’s mother, “Oh, yes.  He has it.”

One time when he was in school, Gafyn saw a little boy standing by his classroom door.  The teacher gave no sign that she had seen him.  Thinking the little boy wanted to join the group, Gafyn started looking around the room to find him a seat.

“What are you doing, Gafyn?” asked his teacher.

“Trying to find a chair for that little boy.”

“What little boy?” she asked.

“The one standing over there by the door,” said Gafyn.

Of course, when he turned around to show the teacher, the boy had vanished once more.  The classroom door had been closed the whole time.  Gafyn wondered how the boy had been able to go through the door without opening it.  Years later, he realized that the little boy had been a spirit visiting the classroom.

As he grew, Gafyn became more accustomed to telling spirits apart from the living.  Seeing spirits almost everywhere he looked, he had to figure out how to manage his abilities.  Sometimes the ghosts scared him because they were “unusual, transparent, or ghastly.”  Aunt Phillis acted as a mentor, helping Gafyn master the basics of working with spirits.  She advised him never to welcome any spirits to follow him home.  Over time, he learned to look past their appearance and began to view spirits as people.  To read more about Gafyn’s adventures, check out Gaf’s Other Interests on Facebook.

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send me a message via Twitter or Facebook to set up an interview!

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

For more ghost stories, paranormal phenomena, and updates, follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill.

 

Too Many Ghosts

Thanks to Jodee DeSimone from Grand Junction, Colorado for this story!  Jodee also shared some of the pictures that she had of her house and the surrounding neighborhood.

dance-hall
Old Dance Hall – Grand Junction, Colorado

There are many theories about what causes a haunting.  Some think a person’s immense unhappiness, unfinished business, or a refusal to detach from material objects can cause a soul to become earthbound.  Sometimes the circumstances surrounding the death, especially if it is sudden or particularly violent, may influence a spirit to stay behind.  In other cases, a spirit may not even be aware of the passage of time or that they have died.  Perhaps they may fear punishment for things that they have done or worry that they will be alone when they cross over.

Paranormal investigators, ghost hunters, Mediums, psychics, and other ghost fanatics are still trying to figure out what exactly causes a haunting and how to help spirits find peace.  Another answer they are seeking is why some places seem to attract more hauntings than others?  One possible reason is that certain areas may be portals for spirits to pass through during their travels.

Jodee DeSimone is a psychic Medium who lived in such a place for three years.  Built during the 1800s, the house was teeming with spirit activity.  It had three stories, but only two of them were accessible, as the entrance to the attic had been closed off by a previous owner.  All the bedrooms were located on one side of the house.  The house also had a creepy, unfinished basement where the family found a cat’s skeleton.

little-girl-2-cropped
Possible Image of Little Girl Ghost, Anna

Two specific ghosts made their presence known to Jodee and her family.  One ghost was a little girl named Anna.  She liked to follow Jodee’s young granddaughter around.  The second ghost was a male who appeared as a tall, dark spirit wearing a top hat.  The little girl ghost, Anna, was afraid of him.  The tall man seemed to have some sort of control over the other spirits in the house as he would stop them from talking to Jodee whenever she tried to question them about why they were still there.

Things only became worse when the house next door to Jodee’s family was condemned and eventually knocked down.  The ghosts that were haunting that house moved into Jodee’s home.  Doors and cupboards would open and slam shut every night.  Lights would turn themselves on and off randomly.  The scents of coffee brewing, cigarette smoke, tobacco, and cooking would permeate the house at night, along with the echoes of ghostly conversations.  Sensing the spirits, the family dog would growl and bark throughout the night.

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Close Up of Apparition by Christmas Tree

During their time in the house, the family was sick or got injured often.  Jodee even once felt someone push her off a chair while she was trying to hang a screen.  The house never stays rented for long.  Jodee has tried doing research on the house’s history, but is unable to find anything about its background.  For now, the reason for the hauntings remains a mystery.

christmas-tree-1

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If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview. 

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

Follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill for more updates and paranormal phenomena!

The Ghost of Marillac Hill

This story was told to me by one of the campus security guards when I was a student at the College of Mount Saint Vincent.  For my previous ghost stories about Marillac Hall, please see “A Strange Welcome” and “I thought I was Alone.”

This story is about the hill that runs beside Marillac Hall.  The steepest hill on campus, it rises steadily at almost a ninety-degree angle.  You can easily take a tumble on it if you are not careful.  It’s near impossible to traverse in snow and icy weather and during a big storm, the rushing rainwater turns into a waterfall.

There is a legend about a ghost nun who walks around campus.  Supposedly, she walks along the grounds by the administration building late at night and toward the early hours of the morning.  Her journey ends when she gets to the top of Marillac Hill and mysteriously disappears.  No one knows who she is or why she does this.  Some think that perhaps this is her spirit guarding the school.  Another theory is that this is a residual haunting and her apparition is a recording of something that she did frequently in life.

Being a homebody, unless there was a play or another campus event that I was interested in attending, I was usually in my dorm after the dinner hour.  Even when I lived in Marillac Hall, I didn’t go out much after dark.  One time in my senior year, I went to a visit a friend who was then living in Marillac.  I was dorming in Spellman Hall that year because it stayed open year-round and I wanted a room that I could stay in during the breaks.  We hung out until after midnight.  My husband, then fiancé, was an RA on duty, so he couldn’t come and pick me up.  Even though it was a safe campus, it could still be risky to walk around in deserted areas after dark.  One of the services our college offered was a security escort between buildings and back and forth to the front gate.  I had never used it before, but when the front desk encouraged it that night, I decided that I’d better be safe than sorry.

Spellman is up the hill from Marillac.  The guard came and picked me up to drive me back to my dorm.  I don’t remember it being particularly foggy that night.  As we were driving up Marillac Hill, the ghost story of the nun came to mind.  Now, I was trying not to look out the car windows for fear of seeing something.  As we approached the top of the hill, I saw a patch of mist right in front of the car.  I couldn’t say it was a fully developed apparition because it wasn’t well-formed, but a cold shiver passed over me as we drove through it.

Within a few minutes, we were back at Spellman.  I thanked the guard for the ride and went inside.  Wondering if I had really seen anything, I asked the guard at the front desk if he believed the legend of the ghost nun of Marillac Hill.  He said that he wasn’t sure, but that a buddy of his, who also worked security for the Mount, had had a strange experience once.

The guards always did periodic rounds of the campus to make sure that everything was safe.  One night, one of the guards was driving by when he saw a nun walking along Marillac Road.  Being polite, he rolled down the window and called out, “Good evening, Sister!  Need a lift?”  Thinking she must not have heard him, he tried again.  When she still didn’t respond, he decided to follow her just to make sure that she was okay.  He watched as she turned toward Marillac Hall.

“Okay, she must be one of the nuns who lives there,” he said to himself.  Having driven this far behind her, he still had to drive the car into the dorm’s parking lot to turn around.  As he was about to do a U-turn, he noticed that the nun had walked past Marillac’s front door and toward the porch.  For many years, the porch doors had been kept locked to make sure that there was only one entrance and exit for the building.  Thinking that she must be confused, the guard got out of the car to help her.

“Wait!  Sister, you can’t get in that way.”

When she finally turned around, the guard saw that the woman had no face.  The apparition dematerialized right in front of him, leaving him standing alone on the deserted porch.

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview. 

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

Follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and on Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill for more updates and paranormal phenomena!

 

The Presence

Thanks to Regina for this story!  To read Regina’s first story, please see A Medium’s Rite of Passage.

Most of the houses in Regina’s neighborhood in North Philadelphia were built during the early 19th century.  It was rumored that some had been constructed over an old cemetery, so there was no surprise that the town had a reputation for hauntings.  Regina was about eight when she started noticing strange things happening in her house.

The previous owner of Regina’s home was an alcoholic who died while living in the house.  Sometimes, Regina would see a male apparition.  One day, Regina came home and saw a man sleeping on the couch.  At first glance, she thought the man was her father.  Then she watched as the figure got up, walked through the closed door, and down the block before fading away.

The dining room was also known for strange activity.  Sometimes in the middle of the night, disembodied voices could be heard among the tinkling of the chandelier as it swayed back and forth.  The floor had a mysterious stain that couldn’t be removed.  Regina’s parents constantly tried to cover the dark mark, but it always managed to come through whatever carpet that they laid over it.

The eeriness permeated the rest of the house’s atmosphere, but only Regina and her sisters seemed to notice.  As a young child, Regina was afraid of going upstairs by herself, especially at night.  There were two chips in the paint that looked like gaping eye sockets.  Even with her back turned, she felt like they were watching her.

Her parents’ closet door would open on its own.  Outside their bedroom was a perpetual cold spot about five feet in diameter.  It didn’t matter what time of the year it was, the iciness was always there and light always left the hallway in shadow.

One Easter, there was a terrible fire next door that caused extensive smoke damage.  Regina’s family decided to move a few months later.  A suffocating, almost violent feeling hung in the air as they packed up their belongings.  Regina’s father went to drop some things off at the new house.  On his return trip, Regina decided to go with him.  Her mother, Rachel, and brother, Janiero, stayed behind.

After Regina left, the temperature in the house continued to drop until it was so cold that her mother and brother’s teeth were chattering.  Janiero had to use the bathroom.  They heard a creaking noise coming from upstairs.  Looking up, mother and son watched as Regina’s bedroom door slowly closed on its own.

If you have a real ghost story that you would like to share with The Ghost Post, send an email with your contact information to Tara Theresa Hill at theghostpostreporter@gmail.com to set up an interview. 

I’m always in the mood for a good ghost story! 

Follow Tara Theresa Hill on Facebook and Twitter at @TaraTheresaHill for more updates and paranormal phenomena!

 

Nightfall at Pennhurst Asylum

This past summer, my husband and I won two tickets for a public ghost tour of Pennhurst State School and Hospital from the Pennhurst Paranormal Association. Timothy Smith runs Pennhurst Paranormal Association and maintains Pennhurst, conducting ghost tours and teaching visitors about the asylum’s tragic history. Tim and the staff of Pennhurst Paranormal Association are experienced, professional paranormal investigators. Everyone was kind and patient in answering both my questions and those of other tour members. The tour was focused on finding evidence of hauntings through the use of ghost hunting equipment, which they also showed us how to use. Pennhurst Paranormal Association hosts both public and private ghost tours of Pennhurst State School and Hospital.

The drive through the picturesque historical town soon ended, bringing George and me to a stop on a dark, country road next to a water tower. Thankfully, Tim sent one of his team to come and find us because we might have never found the place in time for the tour. Pennhurst Asylum was designed to be an isolated location, which undoubtedly helped in keeping the truth behind it a secret for many years. We had to drive down a winding path through the woods just to make it onto the campus, and it was already after dark.

I felt a shift in the atmosphere from the second I saw the dimly lit structures of the buildings looming above. I was thankful that there was a large touring group that night. After having done some preliminary research online, I was anxious about going. Before now, everything that I had done with ghosts had been low-key or happenstance. This was my first time being with a professional group of paranormal investigators that had ghost hunting equipment. We toured two buildings that night, Mayflower Hall and Devon Hall.

In the first building, we went into a kind of common hall where patients used to congregate. Paint was peeling off the walls and water pooled on the floor in some areas from recent rain. Members of the Pennhurst Paranormal Association told us background history about Pennhurst. The place was known for “womb to tomb care.” Many of the occupants spent their whole lives in Pennhurst, whether they needed to be there or not. Family members were encouraged to drop their children and relatives off and told not to look back as return visits might only upset the patient and disrupt the treatment.

Images of people being abandoned by their families, helpless to stop any ill treatment that might befall them filled me with unspeakable horror. I asked why these spirits were still here. Why hadn’t they moved on after so many years? Pennhurst was officially closed down in 1987. This prompted a discussion about hauntings and whether the spirits see the place as we do now.

Without proper funding, Pennhurst was understaffed, poorly managed, and incredibly overcrowded. This allowed for the medical staff to abuse their patients and for patients to accidentally harm themselves or each other. Severe punishments even included surgically removing the patient’s teeth so that they could not bite in defense. This was done without anesthetics. The mentally disabled were not seen as equals and it was easy for the staff to disregard them.

One story that was told to me was about a telephone lineman who was working on repairing the phone system when a patient came up to him and started swaying. After a few minutes, the patient began banging his head into the doorframe. The lineman hailed a nurse who was passing by for help, but she said that she didn’t have time to take care of the patient because she was so overwhelmed with work already. Meanwhile, the patient that she refused to help had blood pouring from the self-inflicted gash on his head.

We had been in the common room for a few minutes when I felt someone take my hand. Thinking it was my husband, I turned around to see that he was standing a few feet away from me. There was no one standing either next to or behind me. I jumped, pulling my hand back. When I brought this up to the tour guides, they said that people often reported being touched or having someone grab their hand in that room. They said that teenage boys used to be here in this section and that was their way of showing affection. We also got some cold spots in that room.

Next, they brought us to Emily’s room. Emily is the spirit of a sweet, thirteen-year-old girl who has the mental capabilities of a five-year-old. There were various dolls and stuffed animals on her bed. We communicated with her via an EMF (Electromagnetic Field) reader which spiked every time she got excited or came near us. She seemed to prefer females and enjoyed when the female tour guides and I took turns singing nursery rhymes to her.

While I was standing in that room, I suddenly saw a small, green orb. I followed it into the darkness down the hallway into another room, but it disappeared. I came back to Emily’s room. At that point, we said goodbye to Emily and went back outside to join other group members who were planning on visiting Devon Hall. Devon Hall is known for having great EVPs (Electronic Voice Phenomena). Tim, the association’s leader, took us there.

At one point, I remarked that I kept hearing what I thought to be footsteps following behind us. Tim said that while that was possible, it was more likely that I was hearing the steady dripping of water down the wall. He was accustomed to hearing these noises, so he could debunk them. He even showed me where the water was coming from so that I could see for myself. While we had sufficient light to see by, this was mostly provided by flashlights that we carried along with us during the tour.

First, we went upstairs to inspect some bathrooms in Devon Hall where they had gotten great EVPs in the past. I sometimes get mental flashes of spirits when I enter rooms. It kind of reminds me of taking a picture because I only see the ghost for a second or two before they vanish. When we entered the bathroom, I saw an image of a little boy sitting in the bathtub. I grabbed George as he went to lean against it.

“Don’t sit there!” I hissed. He had no idea what I had seen until I told him later. I didn’t want him to upset the spirit.

Tim showed us how EVPs were made. He had a recorder that would only record when someone was speaking. He would ask a question, wait twenty seconds, and then ask the next question. Later, when he would play the recording back to the group, the ghostly voices would show up in between Tim’s questions. Since the recorder only records when someone is speaking, in theory, there should have been no gap between Tim’s questions during the playback.

The bathroom was a horrible place. Tim asked if the ghosts were repentant of what they had done during their lives, but they seemed to be proud of how they molested and raped young boys. They staked out claims on stalls and threatened to harm Tim if he entered them. Clutching my St. Michael pendant for protection, I envisioned a circle of white light around our group. Thankfully, I had managed to convince George to carry a protective talisman as well. The creepiest thing about this whole situation was that while I didn’t hear anything while I was standing there, Tim’s EVP recordings showed that there was someone in the bathroom with us. This someone was getting angrier at what they took as an intrusion of their territory.

We trudged down to the basement. At this point, I was looking at the cracked plaster and broken sinks and thinking to myself that I should have brought a face mask since I am super sensitive to dust. We entered another bathroom. Apparently, they are a great source for EVPs. We had a brief discussion about whether this was because the water is a good source of energy for spirits. Then we started another EVP session.

Tim made contact with another spirit who obliged us by reading the writing that was on people’s shirts to show that he was there. Then Tim asked if he would go and see if he could get Dr. Fear for us. That was actually the man’s name, although it would have been an appropriate nickname for him as well since he instilled fear in his patients. His soul apparently came here after his passing. I wondered how this was an appropriate punishment for his evil deeds since he seemed to be able to lord over the suffering souls that were still trapped here.

Moments after Tim called for Dr. Fear, I got a flash image of a spectacled man in a lab coat walking over to our group. In my vision, he came over and placed his hands on both a young woman’s and my husband’s shoulder as if he was peering over a group of medical interns. Just then George and the young woman complained of feeling a cold spot right where I had seen Dr. Fear appear.

Tim began asking Dr. Fear questions. Dr. Fear stated that while he remembered who Tim was, he didn’t really care about his presence one way or the other. One of the female tour guides asked if he was a real doctor. The ghost half chuckled into the EVP recorder. Of course, he was a real doctor. The way that he said it made it seem as if he thought she had asked a stupid question. She had been trying to insult him, but he had dismissed it.

One of the things we had discussed were the missing bodies of patients. Patients had died or gone missing and their bodies had never been accounted for. It was thought that they might have been buried somewhere on the campus in unmarked graves. Tim asked Dr. Fear what happened to the bodies.

“I burnt them,” crackled over the recorder, followed by low, eerie laughter.

I felt cold all over after that. Tim offered to keep taking us around the buildings. The next stop would have been back to the Mayflower building. There was the ghost of a nurse on one of the upper floors who was reported to administer ghostly shots to people. George and I decided to leave. We still had a three-hour drive back home and I felt emotionally and spiritually sapped after that encounter in the basement.

I was exhausted for days following this visit, even with my spiritual cleansings. Tim later told me that was one of their strongest EVP sessions. While I don’t consider myself a Medium per say, I do feel like spirits tend to manifest strongly when I’m around. This was easily the most terrifying ghostly encounter that I have ever had. There is nothing like being in a silent, near pitch dark room and having someone who you cannot see answer you.

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Emily’s Room – Mayflower Hall

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