Hollow Hill

Portsmouth, NH – Real Ghosts, private home – pt 3

(Continued from Portsmouth – real ghosts, private home, part two)

A TRUE GHOST STORY – PART THREE

There were a few more incidents of things casually flying through the kitchen. The faucets turned themselves on more frequently, and with more force. Other odd little things happened, but nothing particularly destructive or frightening. In fact, many of these things struck us funny.

One of the funniest “ghostly” events was when the paper cups would topple in the kitchen. It almost always happened when my oldest daughter was in the kitchen. She did the dishes every afternoon at about three o’clock.

With three children, we have always used paper cups for beverages. It reduces the number of dishes to wash, and the cups were safer for the children when they were small; my youngest liked to chew on the edge of whatever held his beverage. Paper was a vastly better choice than glass. As the children got older, we simply continued to use paper cups for convenience.

Paper cups come in two stacks of 40-50 per plastic-wrapped package. They stand on a level counter easily, and our kitchen counter was level; we’d checked it.

However, when my oldest daughter was in the kitchen, and usually when she was washing dishes, the cups would topple repeatedly. One of us would straighten them back up, make certain that the cups were stable, and stand back. While we watched, the stacks would begin to sag and then fall over, as if someone had accidentally leaned against them.

This didn’t happen just once or twice, but dozens of times. We finally gave up, and learned to leave them sprawled across the counter the first time this happened, each afternoon. Later, we’d prop the cups back up again when my daughter was about to leave the kitchen. Then they would stay in place until the next time she visited the room.

Although the poltergeist incidents ranged from funny to annoying, the bigger problem was the general sense of discomfort we felt in the house. We tried painting the front hall a warm, cheerful yellow with crisp white trim. I displayed quaint country quilts on the walls, and later tried sunny landscape paintings. I bought country-style bleached pine furniture. We read about feng shui and tried a variety of “remedies,” and though they made the house look better, they didn’t solve the problem.

The house still wasn’t cozy and home-like, although we’d been there over six months. Still, the house seemed like an irresistible real estate opportunity, so we stayed. But I was anxious about the fire premonitions, and kept making trips to the storage place with boxes of our belongings, ignoring the illogic and unnecessary expense of it.

More and more, I had the impression that the woman in white was kindly urging us to leave the house, while the man in brown was ordering us out in a sinister manner. I have no idea why I got this impression. The woman seemed to be trying to leave through the kitchen door. The man always seemed to pause abruptly at the door instead of trying to exit. I can’t honestly say that I ever connected their focus on the door, with the idea of leaving the house, but in retrospect it seems obvious.

Nevertheless, I rarely saw the man in brown, and he visually appeared fewer than five times during our year in that house.

Then the neighborhood took a turn for the worse. About three nights each week, I’d answer the door to the police, who were searching for reported criminals. During the day, the police were often on our street, dealing with malicious mischief. Tagging — words I didn’t want my children to see — appeared on walls a few blocks from our house.

My husband and I decided that the house might not be a smart investment, after all.

Then, one night, our next-door neighbors’ truck had been smashed with what looked like a baseball bat. They gave notice to their landlord at the same time we told our house’s owner that we would not be staying.

We prepared to move. It wasn’t much work. Many of our belongings were already in storage on the other side of town.

The story concludes in part four

Little Girl Ghost in the Window?

Our friend Annie brought us this picture, taken by a friend of hers. Annie wanted us to see the figure in the window.

Right away, I saw the small – perhaps winged – figure in the left lower corner of the window. She has wavy hair, and she’s looking across the landscape, perhaps slightly down.

Nice, but… Who knows what these things really are? The figure isn’t distinctive enough to be significant, but it’s a charming photo anyway.

Then I enlarged just that portion of the window.

This is still reading into what may be simple reflections, but look at the right side of the photo. It looks like an enormous face of a cat. There’s something like a huge cat’s eye in the middle of the lower curtain area.

I’m not saying that this is the image of a ghostly girl trapped in an abandoned New Hampshire house, held captive by something with a wicked gleam in its eye.

However, it’s one possible explanation. It’s just not the happiest one, and I don’t think that’s the real story.

I’m sensing loneliness but not terror or even significant fear, but I could be wrong.

No matter what else this is, it’s an intriguing image.

BEFORE YOU GO GHOST HUNTING…

Bradford College, MA, Ghosts – Summary

Bradford College, Bradford, Massachusetts – 11 March 2000

Bradford College ghosts After hearing about haunted Bradford College for months, a group of ghost hunters explored the legends – and buildings – of Bradford College.

We weren’t expecting ghosts. Most of the stories were so fantastical, we thought they were urban legends.

We were wrong.

The following is a brief summary of our March 2000 paranormal investigation, with links to my (online) reports.

The ghosts were real. We witnessed several of them, and then researched their stories. In some cases, evidence was scant. But, we couldn’t deny what we’d seen, heard, and felt.

Even more disturbing, the pond by the college dorms may be haunted… but it might not be a ghost. Whatever’s at that deeply troubling site, it could be something far darker.

Bradford College has closed. The site is now Zion Bible College. Do not attempt to visit it without permission.

Here’s what we’d heard about Bradford College’s ghosts, before our visit:

BRADFORD COLLEGE ACADEMY BUILDING

Bradford College walkway This building is the main building on campus, with offices and dormitories. The Academy Building is also the site of numerous manifestations, mostly focused on the “Amy and the priest” story.

According to one tale, when the college had been a girls’ school, a student (Amy) had become pregnant by a priest.

He tried to keep her quiet, and she eventually killed herself – or was killed by the priest.

There are several variations of this story.

Our reports:

THE TUNNELS

We visited the underground tunnels linking several Bradford buildings. The tunnels are eerie, and troubling to explore. Our reports:

The stories from Denworth are more recent, but some are almost identical to the Amy-and-the-priest tale from Academy:

A student had an affair with a drama professor, or perhaps she was raped.

He threatened her when she said she was pregnant and would tell the administration. Then, he killed her and the baby. (Or, he killed her when she was pregnant, or some variation of this sordid ending.)

The ghostly student is generally mischievous, playing pranks on people in the theatre.

She does not like to be talked about. She has been heard singing “Hush, Little Baby,” in the upstairs part of the building.

Our visit to Denworth was easily the most dramatic encounter with an actual ghost on the Bradford campus. It was one of our last stops when touring Bradford College.

My report:

Ghosts in Denworth Hall.

TUPELO POND

Tupelo Pond has two ghost stories.

A boy drowned in the pond and that’s why it’s haunted. There’s not much more to that story, at the pond itself. His ghost appears in one or more dorms. (If you have more insights, leave a comment.)
Most locals & former students talk about a more colorful legend. It includes haunted ducks or other wildlife. They also reference a rising mist at night, and a horrific stench, as well.

Those eerie events at the pond are attributed to the text mentioned in H. P. Lovecraft’s famous account of the Necronomicon.

According to local stories, the Necronomicon was buried in a secret tunnel that goes underneath the pond. The tunnel was sealed and its exact location is unknown. Because it’s so evil, the book may be guarded by demons, disguised as ducks… but the ducks’ behavior is so odd, few are fooled into thinking they’re just everyday wildlife.

The mist and stench come from Hell, because the Devil visits “his” book, regularly, usually at night between 10 PM and 3 AM.

My report: Bradford College – Tupelo Pond.

TUPELO EAST AND TUPELO WEST DORMS

These are the sites of a variety of stories, mostly related to the ghost of the little boy who drowned in the pond. He’s heard playing, particularly in the upstairs rooms of these two dorms. Tupelo West was the last stop on our tour of Bradford. Nothing dramatic happened there.

My report: Tupelo West

GREENLEAF HOUSE

One of the most recent stories, where a foreign student (perhaps Japanese) checked into the dorm early. While alone in the building, he left his room, and upon returning, he saw bloody footprints outside his door. In his room, he found an old woman, covered with blood. Variations of this story place the woman in a bathroom, or a reflection in the mirror only, and she’s young and in a black dress or a white gown, covered in blood.

We did not visit Greenleaf House.

Other locations – There are several other, less famous stories of ghosts on the campus. We did not investigate them.

ADDITIONAL NOTES

I revisited Denworth Hall in April 2000. I confirmed the anomalous, high EMF readings in the stairwell approaching the dance studio, upstairs. The fuse box is responsible for elevated readings approximately 8 inches from the box. The other high EMF readings on 11 March 2000 and April 2000 are still unexplained. The girl was still in the area, but I was deliberately blocking communications from her. My purpose in visiting that area was to check the EMF readings in a “non-haunted” context.

I also visited the actual upstairs theatre in the building.

There is a male ghost, or perhaps his residual energy, on the right side of the stage as you are facing it from the audience. He’s tempermental but not malicious. I think he’s from around 1930 or so, but he could be earlier or later.

He’s tall, lanky, wears casual clothing, but he’s not in a tee-shirt from the current era.

His “territory” covers an area of floorspace about 5 feet, square, in the wings but not in the rest of the backstage. I lean towards his presence being residual energy.

There is an entity above the stage, around the metal grid (“catwalk”) far above the stage. I did not like it. It “looked” black and human-sized. At the time, I did not think that it was, or ever had been, human. It seemed malicious to me.

Since then, people have told me another story, this one involving a young woman who hung herself from the catwalk.

To read about the entire investigation, start with our Preparations for Bradford College Ghost Investigation

Gilson Road Cemetery, NH – 8. First 2008 Update

Late yesterday (12 June 2008), I returned to Gilson Road Cemetery in Nashua, NH. Our group’s ghost hunting results were surprising. I’ll publish photos and more details, later, but here’s a summary of what we found:

We tried several kinds of dowsing rods to see what they indicated. The “hot spots” were somewhat predictable.

The Fisk graves – the oldest headstones in the cemetery – produced strong pulls on the dowsing rods. They’re the tall stones immediately after the gate, and directly in front of you. I’ve seen EMF spikes there in the past, though I can’t say that they “feel” especially haunted, most of the time.

(Note that the small Fisk gravestone is the only one in the cemetery with a death’s head on it.)

Joseph Gilson’s headstone – a low, white stone near the front center of the cemetery – is where research groups and I have noted many anomalies including paranormal cold spots. It was active last night.

Slightly northwest of the Searles’ graves (near the pink orb note on the map linked above), we found some of the most intense and unexplained activity. That’s the same area where we first confirmed that hiking compasses can work as EMF detectors.

By contrast, we noted little energy at Walter Gilson’s stone and the back left corner of the cemetery, where so many have had spectral encounters.

With two researchers using dowsing rods independently, we were able to confirm activity in several other spots around the cemetery. Most of those locations were not marked graves.

If you’re ghost hunting at Gilson, check in front of the largest tree at the back of the cemetery. (That tree is inside the walls.) Also do readings at the boulder at the back right (SE) corner of the cemetery.

The woods behind the cemetery appear to be as active as ever. If you’re looking for a full, ghostly apparition, Gilson cemetery may be one of your best chances of seeing one. The figures generally look solid and real… until they vanish into thin air.

In fact, Gilson cemetery raises so many questions about hauntings, and it is such a reliable site, I recommend it for beginners who need research experience… if you have nerves of steel, that is.

Many psychics describe Gilson as one of the most haunted places they’ve ever visited. In addition to very obvious manifestations, the more chilling aspects of Gilson are what you sense and can’t easily explain.

But, even if you aren’t especially psychic, you may be in for a scare at Gilson.

In the past month, people have reported hearing voices so loud at Gilson cemetery, they sounded as if the person was right next to them… except that no one appeared to be there.

Several people have seen the ghostly, hooded figure that chases people out of the cemetery.

And, as usual, electrical circuitry can fail… but usually just inside the walls of the cemetery. This includes cameras that seem to jam, digital voice recorders that stop working or record unearthly sounds, and cell phones that lose signal.

Over the past few years, I’ve also received hundreds of reports about new and freshly charged batteries losing their power completely. (In groups I’ve accompanied to the site, I’ve seen that several times, ourselves.)

Even talking about Gilson can be… interesting. My software usually works smoothly, but it took six tries to publishing this article. The server simply stopped. And, even when the article finally appeared, it was missing an earlier note about the uploading difficulty. It took two more tries to add this note to our post.

Gilson Road Cemetery is still one of my favorite haunted locations.

In the summer, if you visit Gilson cemetery shortly before dusk, wear bug spray. In the warm weather, the mosquitoes are aggressive as night approaches.

Bradford College, MA, Ghosts – 5. Denworth Hall

Bradford College, Bradford, Massachusetts – 11 March 2000

Denworth Hall and Theatre

(Note: It took two tries to write this, the morning after our visit to Bradford. Somehow, my computer saved the later Tupelo Pond page over the Denworth page. This never, ever happens. I’m reluctant to say this bizarre error confirms that the ghost in Denworth does not like to be talked about… but I’ll mention it anyway.)

We approached Denworth Hall from the underground tunnels. The Denworth Theatre doors were well-locked, in preparation for the performance that night. We did, however, have access to the stairwell.

I was still fairly certain that the Denworth Theatre ghost stories were colorful only because the people who told them were involved in theatrics. Theatre ghosts are nearly always dramatic, but rarely mean or tragic. Mostly, they’re flamboyant and sometimes humorous.

I didn’t expect any significant encounters, and I was barely interested in getting into the theatre when the doors seemed to be locked. I was eager to get to Tupelo West.

One of our investigators, Ann, found an unlocked entrance. I shrugged and figured, “why not,” as I followed the group.

THE COSTUME ROOM

A short series of stairs led from the landing to a brief, very dark corridor with an unlocked door to the costume room. It was dismal out, there were no windows in this corridor, the floor was dark brown, and there was no reason for the hall to be light. However, there was no reason for it to be as dark and murky as it looked, either.

Ann backed away from the costume room and out of the short corridor, looking deathly pale. She said that she couldn’t go in there.

I was still under the illusion that the Denworth ghost was seriously overrated.

I strode into the corridor, encountering no negative energy until I reached the door to the costume room. As I reached for the doorknob to support me, I was hit with a wave of sadness and revulsion.

Like Ann, I backed out of the corridor. However, the corridor was suddenly lighter, as it should have been in that setting. Ann tried entering that area again, and reported that it was fine now.

The others explored the costume room. I could not go back in there.

Instead, I checked the bathroom on the other side of the corridor. It was as if its threshold shut out the energy just outside its door. The bathroom seemed clear, cheerful, and fine.

I later found out that the bathroom is a relatively recent addition to that area.

THE GHOSTLY GIRL ON THE STAIRS

Then I waited in the stairwell, on a landing, while most of the group explored adjacent areas. My attention was drawn up the stairs when I heard a softly whispered song, or the start of one.

Looking up past the next landing, I saw the shadow of a girl on the wall. It was faint, but this was not a psychic vision. It existed in reality, for anyone to see if they knew what to look for, and where. I half-expected to see a young teen stroll down the stairs, caught exploring the otherwise-locked theatre.

As I watched, the outline became more defined. I began to see a girl’s figure on the actual stairway, stepping from the third step down to the second. This seemed like a psychic vision, but she may have been seen by others.

At first, I saw a fleeting flash of something that was rust-colored. It could be her clothing, or her hair. Watching her was like seeing a transporter problem on Star Trek. I was reminded of the episode where Barclay is in a malfunctioning transporter, and something wormlike was trying to gnaw on his arm. The image was misty as in that episode.

This psychic vision (?) “blinked” in and out, and I caught merely split-second images. The girl seemed to be wearing a drop-waisted dress, with a full skirt that’s a little longer than modern-day clothing. It was like a homemade dress from the Flapper Era. I saw a grey dress, but it could have been a white dress in the shadows, or a black dress that was barely materialized in the vision… or another color altogether. It did not seem to be a print fabric.

The girl had long hair, fairly straight. I don’t know the color. It was not pale like the coloring of the girl in the Academy building.

THE GHOST BEGAN TO SING

Her form did not get clearer past that point, but her voice did. She was singing a song that started “Hush, Little Baby.” Her voice was lovely, with perfect pitch and a quality that suggested that she’d had singing lessons. It had a soft edge to it, which reminded me of Marilyn Monroe’s “Happy Birthday, Mr. President,” but this was a more throaty and clear voice, without any attempt at babylike cuteness.

As she continued to sing, I realized that I’d never heard this part of the song before, but it seemed to segue into an old favorite, which I’ve always called the “Mockingbird Song.” I’ve just never known how that song starts. I think that’s what I was hearing, in Denworth.

At that point, the stairwell seemed to spin wildly around me. I was overwhelmed as an energy surge hit, and I could see that the girl was singing to a doll. It was a large doll, and I think it was wearing a floral dress with a ruby or maroon collar. It was the size of a newborn baby, perhaps the smallest “Saucy Walker” doll of the early 1950’s.

I was struck by the tragedy of it. I was far too close to this girl, psychically. I knew that she had been driven mad by some horrific events linked to the theatre. Nobody that mature (probably 18 years old, or so) sings that seriously to a doll.

Ann speculated that the girl was raped and then lost the baby. I honestly can’t tell what happened. The girl was mad, that’s all I know.

EMF EVIDENCE

After a few minutes, Alan took my EMF meter, and he and James went up the stairs to where I’d seen the ghost. I could see the ghost linger for a moment, then dash up the stairs as her nerve failed her.

Alan apparently got some significant EMF readings in that area, but some (not all) could be attributed to a fuse box (?) at the top of the stairs.

We discussed what we experienced for a few more minutes, and then solemnly left the theatre building.

ECHOES IN THE TUNNELS BENEATH THE BUILDING

We exited through the tunnels, which seemed tame by comparison, now. I felt terribly nauseated by the encounter with the ghost, and knew she was in a frustrated rage because she thought we were deserting her. I had the strong psychic impression that the ghost didn’t want us to leave, but I also knew that we’d not accomplish anything by staying with her.

Ann said that she could hear the girl crying, “Wait! Wait! Don’t leave!” as we walked through the tunnels. Ann said that the girl’s voice echoed in the tunnels.

It was pretty awful.

Samantha asked if there was anything we could do, to help the ghost. I replied that you can help a ghost that is rational but confused. It’s unlikely that anyone can help a ghost that is as far over-the-edge as the ghost in Denworth.

In my opinion, the simplest conclusion would be to tear that building down. Perhaps then the ghost will be released from whatever compels her to remain there.

Next page: An odd but uneventful walk past Tupelo Pond

Portsmouth, NH – Portrait of a Real Ghost

Ghostly man in wondow of Portsmouth house.

Portsmouth house, Portsmouth, NH
October 1999, about 11 a.m.

This photo was taken outside a Portsmouth private residence. While living in that house, I saw two ghosts and experienced considerable poltergeist phenomena. I took several photos of the house in late October 1999, to illustrate my pages about this very haunted house.

When I had this film printed and examined the photos, I kept returning to the photo shown above. Something about it didn’t seem “right.” My attention was drawn to what seemed to be window reflections of the old lilac bush in front of the house.

The following day, I decided to enhance the image with my computer, simply making it larger so I could determine what was bothering me about the picture. That enlargement appears below:

pnh-winman

Either this photo looks like a man looking to the right, with longish hair and 19th-century dark sunglasses, or it looks like a reflection of lilac leaves. Nobody seems undecided about this photo!

If you’d seen the male ghost in that house, you’d recognize the window reflection right away: That’s our ghost. He has a broken-looking nose, a scar under his right cheekbone, and his hair is thinning on top.

winman-sketch — My sketch from memory, and from the photo.

In spectral appearance, he was about 5’5″ tall and stocky. He looked like a hastily-groomed, slightly British version of Buffalo Bill… sort of.

Among people I know in modern times, our ghost reminded me of folk singer Jaime Brockett.

When our ghost wasn’t wearing sunglasses, he had average no-particular-color eyes, somewhat tanned skin, and slightly sun-bleached brown hair. He favored brown clothing, usually wore a suit, rarely buttoned his jacket, and he always seemed in a hurry to go nowhere. When I took this photo, I had the sense that someone was at the window, but I didn’t notice the man’s face.

It seemed reasonable that the current residents of the house might have been peering out at the strange woman taking photos of their house. I don’t put any significance on my discomfort at the time.

Read about our experiences in Portsmouth – real ghosts, private home

Camera: Olympus AF-1, point-and-shoot
Film type: Kodak ASA 400 b&w film, 35mm
Negative shows: Same image. Nothing unusual.
Developed and printed by: Shaw’s Supermarket overnight photo service