The woods surrounding the house were a strange mix of welcoming and extremely frightening. I spent my childhood, from 4 till about 19, playing in those woods with my siblings and friends. The sandpit in the middle of the woods, with the swamp on the outskirts of it, was kind of a perfect playground for kids who had updated tetanus shots and a complete lack of fear.
But some of the most vivid memories of my childhood revolve around wandering through those woods alone, absolutely terrified because something was following me, watching me. The pine forest surrounding 3 sides of the Glisan Rd cemetery ran back to the field beyond our backyard. In the winter, it was a wonderland, perfect for playing hide and go seek in. In fact, it was pretty amazing during every season. But there was always a sense of constant activity in those woods. I’d climb the pine trees and sit in the branches, silent, and I’d hear people moving through the woods when I was pretty damn sure I was alone.

The most vivid impression of activity, and the most reliable one, was from the bottom left corner of the cemetery. At the brick wall, and well into the forest beyond it, we often got a sense of a large group of people moving towards you while you were standing in the cemetery, or away from you if you were in the woods. It was like closing your eyes while in a crowded room and feeling the ebb and flow of the crowd. As far as I know, I was the only one of us who ever actually saw anything. On a number of occasions, I saw Indian women and children trudging through the trees towards the cemetery, at different times of the day. One one, rather memorable occasion, I saw a group of men rushing towards me, and felt their energy surging in front of them. It was terrifying, but old. All of this happened in that bottom left corner.
Other parts of the cemetery, particularly in front of an old mans grave whose name I don’t remember now, felt extremely unwelcoming. Like a cranky old curmudgeon glaring malevolently at you as you walk around his grave.

Sorry for the long comment. But these posts about Glisan Rd cemetery have brought back some vivid, wonderful and terrible memories. Living right by it created some morbid, but open minded individuals .

Thanks for your comments and your honest, healthy skepticism.

Though we talk about “ghosts,” we’re describing a category of unexplained (so far) phenomena. What’s really causing those experiences? I have no idea, yet. (My EIFs mini-podcast describes one theory.)

First, we need to identify sites that seem active. Then, we need to establish some pattern of activity so we can study what’s going on.

That’s the focus of a lot of my current research: Finding patterns of somewhat predictable activity. In other words, when and where we might have phenomena to analyze.

I think it’s important to visit and revisit sites, keeping a more-or-less open mind. The site may or may not be active (or even interesting) every time. Gilson seems active (to me, anyway) about 80% of the time.

However, there are no guarantees. I can visit Gilson four or five times in a row and nothing happens. Then, every visit for a couple of months will result in something odd. So, it’s not a precise calculation or predictive science.

Though I act on my “gut feeling” in many cases, that’s certainly influenced by my experience in this field. For an objective study, I think 10 visits are probably reasonable, unless the site is so overwhelmingly disturbing, someone chooses not to return.

Those 10 visits should provide enough data to make a reasonable decision.

However, with the cold weather moving in, I’m not sure if it’s practical to visit any northern New England sites, another nine times this year. (Though I investigated Gilson about twice a week for two years — even in weather with a wind chill of -50 — I’m no longer quite so eager to stand in an icy or sweltering cemetery for hours, waiting for something to happen.)

My personal gauge of activity at Gilson is usually the cold spot over the Joseph W. Gilson stone. If the cold area is there, we’re likely to encounter other phenomena. If it isn’t there, it may be a nice visit for (normal) photography, period; I’ll stay about 20 minutes and leave. But, of course, that’s an arbitrary and may be unique to me, and that criteria can influence my expectations which — in turn (per quantum theories, anyway) — can determine whether something happens or not.

I’m most impressed when a skeptic experiences something. That, more than my experiences, indicate that something is going on at Gilson Road Cemetery. We’re just not sure what it is… yet.

Thanks for your comments, and I look forward to hearing what happens in the future.

Cheerfully,
Fiona

That’s a great story! Thanks for posting it here.

Gilson Road cemetery is a fine location for daytime research. Any time after about 11:30 in the morning, the cemetery area will usually be active. Mostly, focus on the area immediately in back of the cemetery. (You’re safe inside the cemetery, but watch what’s going on in the woods, and at the very back wall of the cemetery.)

According to local legends, the subdivision across the street should be active as well. That’s where the island used to be, where the mad Native medicine man was imprisoned. The land around the island became dry during a drought, and I think it filled in naturally, in later years.

Of course, that’s all folklore and we don’t know how true it is, but — before the subdivision was built — some of my research team felt that it was even more active on that side of Gilson Road.

Cheerfully,
Fiona

Thanks for the comments! That back left side is probably the most haunted part of the cemetery, and your experiences are consistent with others’ reports.

Keep visiting that cemetery, and compare it with other haunted locations. Gilson is one of the best resources we have for consistent ghost research, and it’s good to use it as a “baseline” for determining the level of activity at other sites.

Cheerfully,
Fiona