Ghost Stories...'tis the season

"Buttercup Cottage Halloween" photo by K.L. Wood

 Anyone who has followed my writing is well aware that I often incorporate a ghostly element into my stories. For example, my Middle Grade novel, Zephyr Stone and the Moon Mist Ghost will be published by Blue Ink Press https://www.blueinkpress.com/in 2021. As you may surmise, I also enjoy reading ghost stories and watching television programs and movies that center on otherworldly action and characters. Especially if they are based in true events. I am alone in this within my household of two, in which my husband has no such interest. Although he humors me from time to time, he mostly just finds something else to do while I watch or read my ghost stories. Strangely, enough, between the two of us, he is the one who has had more actual ghostly encounters. Encounters of which he is the first to acknowledge their validity and truly supernatural qualities. I wrote a poem about my proclivity towards ghost stories which was selected to appear in the 2017 edition of the College of the Albemarle's annual visual arts and literary journal, Estuaries, and present it, here, as my October offering. Enjoy! (As you learn a bit more about me and my obsession...I mean my interest.)

"Edinburgh Ghost Tour" re: Pixabay

Ghostwriter

by Kathryn Louise Wood

Why are you always reading about ghosts,

or watching their hunters on reality TV,

or searching for clues on the internet,

or writing them into your stories and books?

These are the questions my husband asked me,

forehead creased in spousal concern.

Well that’s a good question, I’ve given it thought,

and wondered, myself, at this strange fascination.

So, after some probing and inner reflection,

I think I’ve discovered the root of my quest.

Two things have always stirred deep in my psyche:

the spellbinding thought of a magical world,

and life after death where lives never end.

I’ve seen too much, and heard even more,

to dismiss the existence of bodiless souls,

spirits so free of earthly constraints,

they pass through walls and visit the living.

That non-corporeal realm seems magic made real.

When days are numbered—some many, some few—

the promise that all that we are is not lost

lends comfort, but also a thrill of intrigue

to think we are all so much more than we seem.

I salute those who find their Belief is sufficient

in resting assured of eternal existence.

I find that the Faith of My Fathers is bolstered,

renewed, and strengthened, and greatly supported

when the stardust of supra-natural beings

reminds us, all, we are made of the same.

Thanks for stopping by. Y'all come back, now! 

(And Happy Halloween!)

Kate

Ghostwriting...why I do it

"Peace" by Frederick Richard Pickersgill, 1871

As an author, I often find myself writing stories, novels, poems, and essays that involve ghosts, spirits, the souls of those who have left our sides. As a reader, I love to read books in which the supernatural are, well...natural. As a viewer of films and television programs, I am drawn to subject matter, both fiction and documentary, that explores the existence of the spirit world. So, why is that? Why am I continually pulled in this direction? And I might add, judging by the proliferation of literary and cinematic examples of ghostly stories, I am not alone in this fascination.

After giving it some thought, I have drawn the conclusion that my own interest lies in the joining of three worlds into one. The world of Magic. The other-worldly world of the Afterlife. And the world of Everyday Life. So many books, television programs, and films have utilized the land of fantasy, where magicians and wizards and good-hearted witches cast spells and use their magical powers to make their worlds better places. Regarding the Afterlife, it's not

"Dancing Fairies" by August Malmstrom, 1866

only books and film, but entire religions and philosophies that see the death of our physical bodies, not as an end to our existence but as a freeing of spirits from the restrictions and limitations of those earthly bodies. (Kind of like those fantastical magical beings who can fly from place to place and walk through walls.) And so, that leaves us in the here and now, dreaming of magical abilities and hoping our lives, and the lives of those we love, are not limited to the years we have here on this earthly plane.

The Afterlife, then, becomes an existence in which magic is made real and in which we have hope for the ongoing life of ourselves and our loved ones. It follows, therefore, that when we are faced with proof or validation of those beings (our future selves) who have "gone on beyond," we come to realize that the world, our Everyday Life world, is actually a pretty magical place. A world inhabited by future ghosts, spirits, the souls of those who have yet to leave our sides.

One of my poems, "Ghostwriter," was selected for publication in the 2017 edition of Estuaries, the visual arts and literary review of the College of the Albemarle. Follow this link and find my poem on page 20.
 https://issuu.com/collegeofthealbemarle/docs/estuaries-2017

Thanks for stopping by...y'all come back now.  
Kate

300 Years of Haunted Edenton...taking the Ghost Walk in my hometown

Edenton's 1767 Courthouse (photo by K.L. Wood)

When you live in a town which is over 300 years old with many homes continuously occupied since the 1700s you have to expect there to be a few hauntings…or at least stories of haunted houses and spectral visitations. This year, my family and I went on the town's annual October evening walking tour: the Edenton Ghost Walk.

Young women from John A. Holmes High School carried candlelit lanterns to help illumine our path along the uneven, often brick, walkways in the dark of night. But what a perfectly beautiful night it was! Cool and crisp with bright stars above us, quiet enough to hear the water lapping gently against the town docks.  Our tour guide led us by several homes and buildings and shared their stories...historical and suitably creepy. Come close, dear Reader, and I will tell you some tales…but keep in mind these are just a few of what we heard and these are limited to the area in which we walked. Edenton is full of many more homes filled to the brim with lore and legend.

Standing outside the 1767 Edenton Courthouse, our guide told us of an eighteenth century man who committed several crimes and was tried and convicted in the historic building. Once sentenced to a lengthy imprisonment, he bolted to the front door and tried to escape. The exit was locked from the outside and he beat futilely on the heavy wooden door hoping someone would unlock it and let him out. The man ultimately died in prison. People walking by the old courthouse, late at night, sometimes hear the sound of banging as they pass the door.

Beverly Hall is a beautiful and stately mansion, built as part bank, part residence in 1810. It

Beverly Hall, photographed in 1936 by Frances Johnston

is home to a particularly grisly tale. It seems there was a clerk working in the bank who was discovered to have been swindling the townspeople out of their hard earned money. One night, the clerk saw a crowd of disgruntled people coming toward the Hall carrying torches and all manner of weaponry. He decided to shoot himself before the angry mob reached him. Disappointed at not being able to bring the man to justice, they took his corpse to the old Courthouse, sat it up for “trial,” accused and sentenced him to “death,” and then carried his body back to Beverly Hall where they strung him up in a tall tree in the backyard. There they left him for crows to pick his corpse apart. Today there appears to be an unusual amount of crows that hang out on Beverly Halls lovely grounds…looking for more, perhaps?

Built in 1850, elegant Pembroke Hall is popular today as a gorgeous wedding venue. Every weekend from spring through fall, festive white tents pop up on its generous grounds for happy couples to exchange their vows and celebrate their union. One hopes the brides do not encounter the spirit of a man who has been seen there, wearing a Confederate uniform and bearing horrific facial wounds from a Civil War battle in which he lost his life.

Pembroke Hall, Edenton (photo from visitedenton.com) 

Speaking of brides, another lovely home is the source of a sad tale of a happy eighteenth century bride who decided it would be fun to play hide and seek with members of the wedding party on the day of the nuptials. During the game, the bride went missing and although the guests searched thoroughly and called her name repeatedly, she was never found. With a number of pirates wandering the streets, it was feared and assumed she must have been kidnapped by some dastardly piratical crew. Generations later, after the house had changed ownership a few times, a woman went into the attic and witnessed a filmy form sweep past her and hid for a far corner. The woman peered into the far recesses of the attic and found a beautiful wooden chest she thought might make a lovely coffee table. When the chest was brought down and opened, the body of long dead woman in a wedding dress lay within. Apparently the unfortunate bride hid in the chest during the game and it locked on her, sealing her in and sealing her fate.

Another story involves the restoration of the Roanoke River Lighthouse, in active

Roanoke River Lighthouse, Edenton (photo by K. L .Wood) 

commission from 1886 to 1941. This is the original lighthouse that marked the entrance of the Roanoke River into Albemarle Sound. In recent years it was moved from its working site to Edenton’s harbor where it has undergone extensive renovation and is now open for tours. Part of the restoration involved removing some sad, old carpeting. One of the workmen was bending over and pulling up a section of the carpet when he felt a hard and distinct kick on his backside. Looking around he expected to see he had bumped into something but there was nothing anywhere near him that could have caused the sensation. Evidently, one of the old keepers was indignant at the man’s removal of his beloved carpet!

As I have stated before, living in a 300 year old town is a wonderment and an inspiration. I hope you can come and visit our town someday…perhaps you will experience your own spirited encounter!

Have a good couple weeks, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now! (And beware of things that go bump in the night!)

Kate

A Haunting in Hanover, a true story for a Halloweenish digression

The Apotheosis of Penelope Boothby (1796) 

by Michele Benedetti after Henry Fuseli

As a change of pace from sharing my discoveries of 18th century life and in keeping with the season, I will share another true ghostly encounter experienced by my down-to-earth husband.

Several years ago when Bill lived in Hanover, Massachusetts and worked as a graphic designer, he had a part time office assistant named Mildred who worked off and on for him over a three year period of time. Mildred lived in town, about a quarter mile from Bill's residence, and often expressed her love of her home and the neighborhood. She experienced personal challenges and found great comfort in her home and the kindness of her neighbors.

Mildred was brokenhearted when her husband informed her that the company for which he worked was transferring him to Nashua, New Hampshire, about 70 miles away.  She decided she had no choice but to join him and, with great regret, packed up and moved away.  Their house sold quickly to new owners who pretty much kept to themselves. Occasionally, Mildred returned to Hanover to visit and would stop by Bill's office to see how things were going.

"Welcome to Hanover" By John Phelan (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0
(http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)],
 via Wikimedia Commons

About four years passed when, around 10:00 on a lovely autumn Sunday morning with golden light shining down on the brightly colored leaves, Bill drove from his house to a newsstand for his weekly ritual of purchasing the Sunday newspaper. His route took him by Mildred's former home and, to his surprise, he saw her out in the front yard raking leaves.  She looked up and they exchanged a wave and a smile as he passed by. He couldn't imagine what she was doing there, raking leaves in the current owner's yard, and when he came back by a few minutes later he planned to stop and chat with her.

When Bill reached the house, she was no longer in the yard. He looked in the driveway and only saw the current owner's car. Puzzled, he pulled up in front of the house and walked to the front door. Looking around for any sign of Mildred, he rang the doorbell and a man he had only seen a few times, but who Bill recognized as the homeowner, opened the door.

Bill answered his quizzical expression with his own question, "Hi, I'm a friend of Mildred's and when I drove by a few minutes ago, I noticed her raking leaves out in your front yard. Is she still here? I'd love to see her."

The man wrinkled his forehead, "Mildred?"

"Yes, you know, the woman you bought this house from."

The man shook his head and told Bill Mildred wasn't there. He hadn't seen her since he bought the place.

"I could have sworn it was her I just saw out there," he said, pointing to the front yard. "Is there another woman here who was doing yard work this morning?" 

"No," the man said beginning to look suspiciously at Bill. "No one's here today except me."

With that, he closed the door leaving Bill standing alone in complete bewilderment.

"Hanover Center Cemetary" By John Phelan (Own work) [CC-BY-3.0  

 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/3.0)],

 via Wikimedia Commons

Once he returned home he went about his usual Sunday morning routine but couldn't get the odd incident out of his head. Several hours later he received a phone call from a neighbor who asked if he had heard the news about Mildred.

"No," he said, and before he could tell her about his experience earlier in the day, she announced, "Well, she's dead! Poor dear was killed in a car accident around 10:00 this morning."

"Here?" Bill asked, "In Hanover?"

"Oh no," she replied, "right near her house in Nashua."

So, dear Reader, what do you make of that? Was Mildred making a quick, ghostly stopover to visit her beloved home one more time before she went...wherever she was going? To quote Shakespeare's Hamlet, "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, Than are dreamt of in your philosophy."

"Hamlet, Horatio, Marcellus and the Ghost," 1796

by Robert Thew after Henry Fuseli

I'd love to hear your own ghost stories. Leave them as a comment, please, so we can all marvel at them.

Have a good week, dear Reader. Thanks for stopping by...Y'all come back now!

Kate

http://seasnowhauntedlighthouse.com/

http://www.goodreads.com/book/show/15890071-sea-snow?from_search=true