Swamp Spirit, a Halloween excerpt from Sea Snow-- the gentle haunting of a 19th century lighthouse

By Usher, John, Jr. -- Photographer [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

So, here we are just a week away from Halloween! I thought it would be fun to share an excerpt from my novel, Sea Snow-- the gentle haunting of a 19th century lighthouse, in which Rose Martin tells us of a ghost story she heard at a village celebration on Halloween Night, 1899. The teller of the tale is her dear friend, Jenny, the local mid-wife who lived in Rawlings, Massachusetts since her escape from slavery in South Carolina many years before.

Jenny raised her gray head and opened her eyes. She lifted her hand, pointing a long finger toward the people facing her. Her black eyes reflected the pumpkin light as she silently turned a complete circle, her pointing finger slowly passing over everyone in turn. I felt an involuntary shiver as her finger pointed my way. Complete silence fell upon us—even the stifled laughter and clearing of throats ceased.

“You,” she began, her voice sounding a note of authority I’d never heard before, “must hear the tale I tell tonight.”

We were all under her control—all gladly relinquishing our own will to fall under the spell of this old woman, this former slave. 

“It happened a long time ago, back when I was a young’n, hiding out in a South Carolina swamp. There came a moon mist— one of those nights when the moon is full and bright and the mist rises thick above the water. Everything glows milky-white and you can’t tell east from west or south from north. It’s on a night of the moon mist that spirits, lost in the swamp, return to look for their way home, or search for whatever it was they couldn’t find when they were living. Something (I never knew what it was,) woke me in the middle of the night and I got up from my cot and looked outside. The camp was floating in moonlight. I pulled a shawl ‘round my shoulders and stepped just outside my door. I knew I shouldn’t go out in the moon mist, but it was so beautiful and strange, all at the same time. I had to get a little closer to it. That’s when I heard a soft shuffling near by. I stepped back into my doorway and peered through the swirling mist. It was Jimmy! I wondered what Jimmy was up to. He was about nineteen, just a few years older than me, and I kind of fancied him.

By Love Krittaya (Own work) [Public domain], via Wikimedia Commons

“ ‘Jimmy!’ I whispered.

“He didn’t answer.

“ ‘Jimmy! What are you doin’ out there?’

“I saw his dark shape swim by in the whiteness.

“ ‘Jimmy!’ I whispered as loud as I could.

“He paid me no mind. I looked back inside my hut and then outside at the moon mist. Foolish child that I was, I pulled my shawl tighter ‘round me and walked out.

“ ‘Jimmy!’ I called a little louder. ‘Where’d you go?’

“A rustling in the bushes caught my ear and I walked toward it. Just ahead, I could make out Jimmy’s shape moving before me. I knew for sure it was him, ‘cause he walked with a limp—something he’d got from the overseer who’d broke his ankle the first time he tried to run away.

“ ‘Jimmy!’ I called out loud this time, but my voice was buried in that moist cottony air.

“I followed his lop-sided gait, until I came to the edge of a lagoon. He was nowhere to be seen. I walked around the water’s edge, shivering every time a finger of Spanish moss draped over my shoulder. Here and there, cypress knees tripped me as I wandered about. 

“ ‘Jimmy! Where are you?’ I cried out.

“Then, out of the soup, I heard an owl hooting.

“ ‘Who—who, who, who?’ it asked.

“I couldn’t make out where it was. I turned in a circle and it sounded like it was coming from all sides of me at once. I was getting pretty scared by that time! Then, I heard a soft lapping sound out in the water and saw a greenish light glowing through the mist. The sound and the light grew closer and I stood, planted like a tree, on the bank. I tried to run but my legs wouldn’t move!

"Ramona" by F.L. Harper

“As it grew near, I could see a paddle dipping into the water just behind the light. The light was coming from inside a canoe, though I couldn’t see any kind of lantern. I stood frozen as it came within a few feet of me. Then, I could see what it was that held the paddle. It was a beautiful woman—long, black braids hanging down, a necklace of shells circling her neck, and colored beads sewn onto her tan leather dress. As she came closer, I saw some white feathers stuck here and there in her braids. The light from her canoe cleared a space in the mist and I could see her real plain. There came a sloshing noise and I saw Jimmy, on the other side of the lagoon, wading through the water toward her.

“ ‘Jimmy! What you doin?’ I called to him.

“He didn’t look my way—just kept his eyes on the Indian woman.

“ ‘Jimmy! Get yourself on back here!’ I cried.

“Jimmy was knee-deep in the water, and only a couple feet from the canoe.

“ ‘Jimmy! Don’t you know she’s a swamp spirit? Get away!’ I screamed.

“The woman placed her paddles in the canoe and reached her hand out to him.

“ ‘No!’ I hollered, but my voice sounded puny even to my own ears.

“Jimmy took her hand and climbed into the canoe. The light went out and I couldn’t see anything at all in the moon mist. A flapping sound came from the direction of the canoe and a snow-white owl swooped over me.

By David Syzdek (Snowy Owls (4 of 22)) [CC-BY-SA-2.0
 (http://creativecommons.org/licenses/by-sa/2.0)],
via Wikimedia Commons (digital enhancement by KLWood)

“I started running but I had no idea where I was or where the camp was anymore. Every time I stopped to catch my breath, that owl flew at me, pushing me ahead. Then I stumbled into camp. That bird herded me all the way home! I ran into my hut and jumped into bed, pulling the covers tight over my head.

“Next morning, when folks were up and about, word spread Jimmy was gone. I was scared to tell anybody what I’d seen and I’d have thought maybe I’d dreamed it up except when I went to make up my bed, I saw something glowing white under my blanket. I pulled back the covers and this is what I found.”

Jenny reached into her pocket and withdrew a large, white feather and held it before her. Lantern light danced across its snowy surface and the whole room gasped as one body. 

“We never heard a word from Jimmy again but, later on, folks said they’d seen two white owls flying around the swamp when the mist was thick and the moon was bright.” 

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

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

Yes, We Have No Bananas, Superstitions at Sea

© Krasphoto http://www.stockfreeimages.com/

18th century sea-going folk had a whole raft (pardon the pun) of superstitions, many of which linger today. Some had logical origins while others defy understanding. So during this month of Halloweenish goings-on I thought it might be fun to offer a list of 13 shipboard superstitions I have garnered during my research:
1-Bananas on board are a portent of disaster.

2-Women on board are bad luck unless...they are naked. Naked women bring good luck (imagine that) so there are many bare-breasted figure heads meant to calm the seas.

3-Meeting a red head (ginger haired person for our British friends) while heading to the ship for a journey is bad luck unless you speak to them before they speak to you as in, "Hey there, Red, be sure you finish that banana before you step foot on this ship!" (Same goes for meeting a flat-footed person on your way to the ship.)

"Girl with Cat" by Paul Hoecker

4-Black cats on board are good luck! (But dogs near fishing tackle are bad.)

5-Killing an albatross brings misfortune.

6-Saying "Good Luck" or being wished "Good Luck" is actually bad luck and can only be reversed by drawing blood as in "Sorry 'bout punching you in the nose but you shouldn't have said...you know...what you said."

7-Having a child born aboard ship is good luck. (Hmmm...see superstition number 2.)

8-Cutting your hair or nails while at sea is bad luck.

9-Having flowers on board ship is bad luck.

10-Wearing gold hoop earrings is good luck for your sea voyage.

"H.M.S. Blonde" by Robert Dampier

11-Stepping aboard with your right foot first is good luck (conversely, left foot boardage is bad.)

12-Throwing stones into the sea will bring its wrath upon your ship.

13-Sailing out on a Friday is very bad luck. 

So, if you meet a flat-footed, red-haired, fully dressed woman wearing flowers in her hair eating bananas who is heading for your ship, take action before she has the chance to say "Good Luck" or be prepared to carry out appropriate counter measures!

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

Sea Biscuits and Pocket Soup, 18th Century Road Food

"Me, My Wife, and Daughter" by Henry Bunburry

Planning a road trip? Planning to save money by packing your own snacks and picnic food? Ever wonder what your 18th century ancestors carried along those horse-drawn, wind-driven, or foot-pathed journeys? Probably not, but I'm here to tell you anyway and help you count your blessings for those cans of cheese spread and boxes of crackers you tuck into your food chest.

Sea Biscuits (Navy style,) also known as Hard Tack (Army style) were not only eaten by sailors and soldiers but were handy for civilian travelers, as well, especially along the long, lonely 18th century roads of North America. Made of flour and water with no leavening agents, this hard bread was easy to store and transport. As the name implies, it is very hard and was the butt of many jokes as when a soldier exclaimed he found something soft in his Hard Tack. "A worm?" asks another since this was not an uncommon addition when stored for long periods. "Nope," says the first soldier, "a nail!" You could also crumble it up into some liquid like coffee or soup, and Pocket Soup was just the thing to carry along with it.

Pocket Soup, also known as Portable Soup was the precursor to the bullion cubes we use today. Legs of beef or veal were stewed and steamed and scraped and stewed and steam again and again until they were rendered down to hard gelatinous globs sometimes known as veal glue. A small amount of this appetizing stuff was ready to eat with just the addition of some hot water. Of course to make it tastier, you could add any seasonings you wished that you happened to carry along.

Now that I've whetted your appetite, here are a couple recipes I found  for your dining pleasure!

Sea Biscuit/Hard Tack

From http://www.atlantahistorycenter.com/ (Hard Tack was also a staple of the Civil War diet)

 Ingredients:  
2 cups of flour  
½ to ¾ cup water
Salt (5-6 pinches)

What to Do:

1. Mix all ingredients together in a large bowl. Make sure you add enough flour so that the dough is no longer sticky, but be careful not to make it too dry. Knead the dough a few times. During the war, hardtack was about half an inch thick, so when you’re rolling the dough, aim for this thickness. It is easiest to roll the dough directly on an ungreased cookie sheet.
2. Bake at 350 degrees for about 30 minutes.
3. Cut the large square into smaller 3-inch by 3-inch squares. Poke 16 evenly spaced holes in each square using something wider than a toothpick.
4. Flip, and then return the dough to the oven for another 30 minutes.
5. Turn the oven off, and allow the hardtack to cool in the oven with the door closed.
6. Allow to completely cool before eating.

Pocket Soup

Thanks to http://www.foodtimeline.org

From a "receipt" of Hannah Glasse, circa 1747:

"To make Pocket Soup

Take a Leg of Veal, strip off all the Skin and Fat, then take all the muscular or fleshy Parts clean from the Bones. Boil this Flesh in three or four Gallons of Water till it comes to a strong Jelly, and that the Meat is good for nothing. Be sure to keep the Pot close covered, and not do too fast; take a little out in a Spoon now and then, and when you find it is a good rich Jelly, strain it through a Sieve into a clean earthen Pan. When it is cold, take off all the Skim and Fat from the Top, then provide a large deep Stew-pan with Water boiling over a Stove, then take some deep China-cups, or well glazed Earthen Ware, and fill these Cups with the Jelly, which you must take clear from the Settling at the Bottom, and set them in the Stew-pan of Water. Take great Care none of the Water gets into the Cups; if it does, it will spoil it. Keep the Water boiling gently all the time, till the Jelly becomes thick as Glue; then take them out, and let them stand to cool; then turn the Glue out into some new coarse Flannel, which draws out all the  Moisture; turn them in six or eight Hours on fresh Flannel, and so do until they are quite dry. Keep it in a dry warm Place, and in a little time it will be like a dry hard Piece of Glue, which you may carry in your Pocket, without getting any Harm. The best Way is to put it into little Tin boxes. When you use it, boil about a Pint of Water, and pour it on a Piece of Glue about as big as a small Walnut, stirring all the time till it is melted. Season with Salt to your Palate; and if you choose any Herbs, or Spice, boil them in the Water first, then pour the Water over the Glue."

Okay, so now I think I'll go pick up some cans of Vienna Sausage to go with that can of cheese and crackers.

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

Kate

http://seasnowhauntedlighthouse.com/

Undressing the 18th Century Woman, from shoes to shift

Mrs. Sharpe and Her Child by Joseph Highmore

Reading descriptions of women's clothing from the 18th century makes me very happy to be living in the relative simplicity of 21st century fashion! Getting dressed (or undressed) must have taken quite a bit of time out of a lady's day. Of course, they would be appalled at the t-shirt and jeans I slip into most every day. Probably have me arrested or sent off to an asylum until I came to my senses and dressed in a more seemly manner!

So, here we have the lady of the house after a busy day of tending to her family's needs, ready to get comfortable and lie down for a much deserved night of sleep:

First, off come the shoes made of leather, silk or worsted, fastened by buckles, clasps or ties. (If walking in the mud or rain, she may have overshoes, called patterns, to remove, as well. Patterns had a raised sole to lift her shoes above the muck.)

Second, with a pull of the ribbon garters poised just above the knee, off come the stockings made of wool, linen, or silk.

Third, off comes the cap, made of cotton, linen, or lace, worn alone or beneath a hat when outdoors. Caps were practical in that they protected the hair from dirt and dust and the viewer from unsightly, unwashed hair!

Fourth, off come the mitts, elbow-length fingerless gloves that keep her warm in winter and protect her skin from the sun in summer.

Fifth, off come the ruffles attached to the sleeves.

Sixth, off comes the stomacher, a triangular piece of cloth attached to the gown at the bodice to hold the front of the upper gown together.

Seventh, off comes the gown, a bodice sewn to a skirt which was open in the front to reveal the petticoat.

Eighth, off come the petticoats, an outer one was a skirt that filled in the gap left by the open-front gown and an underpetticoat was worn beneath it for extra warmth in the winter.

Ninth, off come the free-hanging pockets tied around the waist and accessed through pocket slits in the gown and petticoats.

Tenth, off come the stays (at last, whew!) Layers of linen encasing narrow strips of boning of whale bone, metal, wood, woodpaste or packthread were cone-shaped, extending from waist to just beneath the bosom and were meant to ensure upright posture. The most fashionable lady would wear one that pulled her shoulders back to the point of her shoulder blades nearly touching. Even children wore stays to create good posture!

Eleventh, off comes the long shirt-like garment called a shift...whoops, the shift stays on and doubles as a nightgown. And that, my Reader, is where it ends as there were no underpants of any kind worn at the time. I think we can all agree, however, that the dear lady was adequately protected and at least it made the use of the privy just a little easier!

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

Fol the diddle dol..., The Essential 18th Century Playlist

The Penny Wedding by David Allan

Her shoes were bright

Her stockings white
Her buckles shone like silver
She had a black and roving eye
And her hair hung down her shoulder
With my rue dum day
Fol the diddle dol
Fol the dol th diddle dum the day

(From "I'm Seventeen Come Sunday")

Pretty catchy lyrics, eh? Songs of the 18th century mirrored the human condition of the times and, just like today, were filled with stories of love, jealousy, humor, politics, and partying. Many songs were made for dancing and as long as they "had a good beat and easy to dance to," to quote American Bandstand sages of the 1950's, they were a hit. Dancing was a very important part of colonial American entertainment. According to the Irish physician, John Brickell, who lived in Edenton, NC about 1731 and wrote a book entitled The Natural History of North Carolina: 

"Dancing they are all fond of, especially when they can get a Fiddle or a Bagpipe; at this they will continue Hours together, nay, so attach'd are they to this darling Amusement, that if they can't procure Musick, they will sing for themselves." 

An 18th century Musick lover's Playlist would surely include the following: (Thanks to http://www.contemplator.com/america/ for these examples and lyrics.)

 An early lawyer joke rears its sarcastic head in:

"A Fox May Steal Your Hens, Sir"

A fox may steal your hens, Sir,
A Whore your health and Pence, Sir,
Your daughter rob your Chest, Sir,
Your Wife may steal your Rest, Sir,
A Thief your Goods and Plate.
But this is all but picking,
With Rest, Pence, Chest, and Chicken,
If ever was decreed, Sir,
If Lawyer's Hand is fee'd, Sir.
He steals your whole Estate.

Ah, sweet love from:

"Enraptured I Gaze"

Enraptured I Gaze, when my Delia is by,
And drink the sweet poison of love from her eye;
I feel the soft passion pervade ev'ry part,
And pleasures unusual play round my fond heart.

What's a woman compared to a good stiff drink? From:

"The Women All Tell Me"

My Chloe had dimples and smiles I must own;
But, though, she could smile, yet in truth she could frown,
But tell me, ye lovers of liquor divine,
Did you e'er see a frown in a bumper of wine?

I could go on but my novel writing calls so I shall bid you adieu for now, Fol the dol th diddle dum the day...

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

From Mud Larks to Jingle Brains, 18th Century Slang You Need to Know

A Midnight Conversation  (1733) by William Hogarth 

An essential part of a historical fiction writer's job is using slang appropriate to the era. It wouldn't do to have an 18th century fellow extolling the virtues of "groovy chicks." So, dear Reader, I have rounded up 50 slang terms I garnered from  A Classical Dictionary of the Vulgar Tongue (1785)—written by Francis Grose and placed them, below, in the form of a mix/match quiz with numbered slang terms and lettered meanings. (Answers at the bottom.) After putting all this together I am feeling a bit betwaddled and absolutely swivel-eyed! You can peruse this entertaining tome yourself at:  http://archive.org/details/aclassicaldicti01grosgoog

Have fun and feel free to use them at your next gathering. Impress your friends! Confound your...non-friends! 

1-all-a-mort    2-apron string-hold    3-arsey varsey   4-batchelor's fare

5-betwaddled    6-bone box    7-break-teeth word    8-croaker

9-cacklers ken   10-dry boots    11-dog's soup    12-eternity box

13-execution day   14-featherbed lane    15-fencing ken    16-gollumpus

17-grumbletonian     18-here and thereian    19-hum durgeon    20-hop-o-my-thumb

21-India wipe    22-inexpressibles    23-jingle brains 24-jumblegut lane 

25-kill devil    26-knowledge box   27-locksmith's daughter   28-lully priggers 

29-master of the mint    30-mud lark    31-nicknackatory   32-nigmenog  

33-Old Roger    34-Old Mr. Gory    35-pin basket   36-picaroon    

37-quacking cheat    38-quill driver    39-Ralph Spooner   40-rattle and pad 

41-sidledywry    42-swivel-eyed    43-top lights   44-trundlers   

45-victualling office    46-vampers    47-unlicked cub   48-used up  

49-watery headed    50-word grubbers

a-stockings    b-verbal critics    c-the youngest child    d-a clerk, scribe or hackney driver

e-crooked    f-new still-burnt rum    g-thieves who steal wet linen 

h-a wild thoughtless rattling fellow    i-a discontented person always railing at the times

j-a diminutive person    k-a pirate    l-a coach and horses  

m-an estate held by a man during his wife's life   n-mouth    o-struck dumb, confounded

p-imaginary illness    q-a rough road    r-one who has no settled place of residence

s-breeches    t-bread and cheese and kisses    u-hen roost   v- to fall head over heels

w-apt to shed tears    x-a key    y-coffin    z-out of one's senses, confounded

aa-hard to pronounce word    bb-washing day    cc-a gardener 

dd-someone always foretelling misfortune    ee-a rough or stoney lane

ff-rain water    gg-silk handkerchief    hh-large clumsy fellow    ii-killed

jj-peas    kk-a fool    ll-squinting     mm-a duck   nn-the Devil

oo-a hog    pp-a piece of gold    qq-a sly humorous fellow

rr-a warehouse where stolen goods are secreted   ss-the head    tt-a very silly fellow

uu-the eyes    vv-a rude uncouth young fellow    ww-the stomach    xx-a toyshop

1o  2m  3v  4t  5z  6n  7aa  8dd  9u  10qq  11ff  12y  13bb 14ee  15rr  16hh  17i  18r

19p  20j  21gg  22s  23h  24q  25f  26ss  27x  28g  29cc  30oo 31xx   32tt  33nn  34pp

35c   36k   37mm   38d   39kk   40l   41e   42ll   43uu  44jj  45ww  46a  47vv   48ii

49w   50b 

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

Ghosts of New Orleans, a personal experience

Both my first novel, Sea Snow- the gentle haunting of a 19th century lighthouse, and the novel on which I am currently working for my series, Time Shadow, involve ghosts of one kind or another. Actually the first one is about a ghost and the one I am writing now is about a spirit. You may think of these as one in the same but I think of a ghost as a spirit that is bound to a person or a place beyond their control and have no choice but to haunt said person or place until they have come to some kind of resolution of unfinished business. A spirit, on the other hand, is that part of ourselves that lives on beyond our physical lives and exists in a different plane of existence but who may, if they so choose, visit or interact with the physical realm. (Just my thoughts as they are at the moment. I am always open to evolving ideas.) 

I have had only one interaction with a spirit but my dear, down-to-earth husband has had several, one of which occurred when we were traveling around the country on a 33,000 mile journey pulling a 13 ft camper trailer from Virginia to Alaska and all parts in between. With his kind permission I will tell you what happened to us on November 1 (All Saints' Day,) 2011 as we camped just outside New Orleans in St Bernard State Park Campground.

 

We had just pulled into this lovely park and were setting up camp around 5:30 pm. All the campground staff members were gone by then so we picked our spot and placed our payment into the self-pay box provided for latecomers. The park only had a few of its many campsites filled so we were able to find a good spot, far enough away from other campers for privacy but not too far from the bathhouse. (Our usual criteria.) We had a nice, level campsite, one side facing the camp road and one facing a stand of young trees. Our two dogs and I were inside the camper, which we affectionately called "Lucy," as I undertook the usual reorganization of supplies necessary when we set up camp and performing that most important of tasks, making two cups of hot tea, while Bill did his usual outdoor chores of securing the trailer. One of the things he had to do each time there was a water supply available, was to hook up the water hose from the water source to the camper. This is a job he had performed hundreds of times before with ease. This time, however, he could not get the hose end to thread properly and he struggled to securely connect it to the fresh water connector on the camper.

 As he crouched by the trailer, his frustration mounting by the second, he felt someone approaching and looked back over his shoulder. There, standing about eight to ten feet away between two narrow tree trunks at the edge of the campsite, was a slender black man about 70 years of age, curly grey hair, gold-framed glasses enlarging his kindly eyes, dressed neatly in a long-sleeved blue cotton shirt buttoned up to the neck, khaki trousers and sneakers. (As a photographer, my husband is extremely observant with a great memory for detail.) The man was carrying a bright yellow water hose that trailed behind him and was smiling reassuringly at Bill, looking as though he were about to speak and offer assistance. At that moment, Bill felt the hose slip securely into its connection and turned his eyes back to the trailer. He immediately turned back to face the man and speak to him but there was no one there. He stood up and walked to the spot where the man had been standing and looked around through the trees, no trace of his existence. He walked quickly around the trailer and looked up and down the road, no one there at all. When he looked through the trailer's screen door to ask me if I'd just seen a man outside, his face was as white as a proverbial sheet. Later, he was talking to an older man who spent a lot of time camping at the park and broached the subject of apparitions in the area. The man replied, "Oh yeah, you know this whole parish was flooded after Katrina. There're hundreds of ghosts swimming around here." Bill asked a park ranger if anyone else had ever reported seeing anything like he had witnessed. The ranger said he wasn't at liberty to say but, in his words, "It wouldn't surprise me one bit."

As time goes on, I will relate other true ghostly encounters and I would love for you to share any experiences you have had.

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

Photographs on today's blog are copyrighted by my husband, William Ahearn.

Welcome Readers, Curiosity Seekers and Pirates!

A cup of tea, a shaggy dog at my feet, and an old laptop warming my lap-- ready for the next adventure, sharing tantalizing tidbits I run across as a writer of supernatural/science/historical fiction. So glad you could join me on this journey! My plan is to write one post a week, The Wednesday Weekly you might call it. (Or the Wednesday Weirdness, or the Wednesday Wonderment, or...whatever you might decide to call it behind my virtual back or, even better, right out front by way of a comment. I would love to hear from you and welcome your thoughts. Sometimes I will put out a question for you to answer and look forward to reading your responses. So, here we go!

Currently, I am researching for my next novel which will be the first book in my Young Adult series, Time Shadow. No title for the book yet, so it goes by the working title of Shadow 1. It concerns a 16 year old girl living in the lovely old town of Edenton, North Carolina (my hometown) who is launched back to the year 1718 where she must solve a murder mystery that has a direct impact not only on her own personal happiness but on the future of the entire planet. Now, seeing as this begins in Edenton which is part of the Inner Banks (directly connected by the Albemarle Sound to the more well known Outer Banks) and seeing as Blackbeard the infamous pirate was known to inhabit the Inner Banks and seeing as he met his demise in November of 1718 on Ocracoke Island just 100 miles as the gull flies, it might be reasonable, dear Reader, to assume that Edward Teach AKA Blackbeard would play a part in the story. And, he does! I have uncovered many stories regarding Captain Teach, some more reliable than others, of course. One of the most fascinating resources is an account written in 1724 by a Captain Charles Johnson (although there is speculation that this was a pen name for Daniel DeFoe of Robinson Crusoe fame) entitled, A General History of the Pyrates . Don't you love old spellings? Be forewarned if you read his book yourself,  that "f's" were not only used as we use present-day "f''s" but sometimes also in place of "s's" we use today as in the following passage:

"Before he failed upon his Adventures, he marry'd a young Creature of about fixteen Years of Age, the Governor performing the Ceremony. As it is a Cuftom to marry here by a Prieft, fo it is there by a Magiftrate; and this, I have been informed, made Teach's fourteenth Wife, whereof, about a dozen might be ftill living."

(Spell-check was not at all amused by these 18th century spellings and persisted in slashing angry red lines under the offending "f" words.)

That "young creature of about sixteen years of age" was a plantation owner's daughter by the name of Mary Ormond and the governor performing the marriage ceremony in Bath, NC was none other than the governor of North Carolina, one Charles Eden. Hmmm...the governor, for which the town of Edenton was later named, consorting with pyrates? The plot thickens!

Photo from WITN.com

Blackbeard's sunken ship,  Queen Anne's Revenge, was discovered in November, 1996 just off Beaufort, North Carolina by a private research team. Since then, researchers from the North Carolina Department of Resources Underwater Archaeology Branch have recovered 17 cannons from the ship, 2 of which were brought up in the past month. Several more remain in the ship. Many other artifacts found in the wreck are on display at the NC Maritime Museum in Beaufort ( http://www.qaronline.org/exhibit ) and can be seen in a traveling exhibition at Edenton's 1767 Chowan Courthouse Sept 6 to Oct 19. I've heard that Blackbeard, himself, may pay a visit to Edenton during a special celebration Oct 11-12! ( http://www.visitedenton.com ) Now, that sounds like a hoot.

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