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Came in early this morning and as I unlocked the heavy wooden doors to enter the haunted office building where I work, I could feel the heaviness of entity energy. It’s a feeling like, well, imagine you try to enter a room and some invisible force pushes you back. Like walking underwater is the best way to describe it.
So I trudge up to my office. These are the mornings I dread opening the door to the pitch black rooms I occupy here – but anyway, must do it – so I open the door and hurriedly turn on the lights. Nothing – just my normal lovely rooms. I am having a bit of a tea party this afternoon with my mastermind sisterhood, and so I need to go into office #2 for some bottled water. This door is always closed unless in use, you see it just has an always-present eerie feeling. I hesitate at the door…then open it and the rush of air is so cool I immediately get gooseflesh. Well, the room shouldn’t be cool because the rest of the office is warm from the heat of yesterday, and my office holds heat too well. But this room is easily five degrees cooler.
The room is dark because there is only a lamp in there and the lamp is at the other end of the room. And no, I’m not going to walk through to turn it on. As it is, I have my hand firmly on the door so it can’t close on me, with me on the inside…The real estate appraiser who used to work downstairs from me reported that he always had to have his key in his pocket because his door would frequently close on it’s own, and lock itself. Anyway, I have a feeling if I stand there much longer I’m going to see some very slight shadowy movement in the dark, so I close the door, and go turn on some loud music and I’ll get the water later.
I realize this all sounds more like imagination than activity, but really you’d have to be here. Finally, at eightish now, people are coming in to start their workdays in the offices around me. Heavy days like today don’t happen every day, but when they do, it’s like someone is always watching and waiting to spring a startle on me.
Maybe it’s got something to do with Memorial Day.
When you look at the dark side, careful you must be … for the dark side looks back.
–YODA, Dark Rendezvous

Interesting clip shows what supermarket cameras catch while filming empty aisles.

Fear can be an energy-robber…a predator that squashes your enthusiasm… something dark hobbling behind you wherever you go… on occasion heading you off at the pass… waiting there for you, to remind you in case you should start to get too comfortable. The faster you run, the faster it runs. Maybe it’s time to just stop, take a deep breath, and confront it. It might be easier than you thought… it might be worse. No one said it has to work out. But at least you faced it. And can move on without constantly looking over your shoulder.

I don’t know if this is paranormal or not, but it’s interesting. There are approximately 45 minutes between the first blankets falling and the second ones falling. They try to pass it off as earthquake movement, but the boots don’t topple, and the pictures don’t move.  Certainly, the first one there every morning to open the store, and the last ones there to close are going to be feeling a little apprehensive for awhile.

Hello fellow seekers of the paranormal!

I haven’t yet written on our last investigation at the Queen Mary. Well, no better time than Halloween to share that story, right? So, for my birthday last month my beloved husband takes me to the Queen Mary to stay a couple of days. We pack up the usual ghost hunting equipment, video cameras, emf detectors, digital audio recorder, camera, night vision goggles… we are ALL set!

We get to the ship and check in rather late. We are starved, and ready to eat dinner, after which we will do a ship walk through. We have rented a suite, and so feel excited that the night will be elegant. But because we are checking in somewhat later they say they are all booked up and they are down to the last suite. Who cares, right? I mean, a suite is a suite, right? Wrong. We walk in and immediately there is a horrible chemical odor – hard to describe, but let me tell you, it was so strong it sent me into an asthma flareup. Plus, the room is butt-ugly.

We have stayed on the ship several times already and we know their rooms are generally lovely, fragrant, comfortable. This “suite” has the energy of an old office stuck in the 40’s. I could easily imagine the old dusty file cabinets, and desks that had once been in there. But it was more than just that… Usually when you get a ghost it’s like the ghost has invaded your time and space. Here, in this suite, I felt like I had disrupted the ghosts by walking in on THEIR time and space. It feels like a VOID in here, I remember thinking. We leave the room, me wheezing slightly, and my husband feeling down – expectations shattered. Upstairs, at the desk they say we have to downgrade, because that was the only suite available at that time. Fine, we say. They give us a room and back down the hall we go, excited again because this room is also supposed to be very nice.

So I open the door, and the second I walk in, I am penetrated by an icy cold chill that makes me break out in goose-flesh. It’s freezing in here, I say to hubby. He walks in, and immediately freezes. One good thing, the room is lovely, smells great, and is super clean. I turn the heat on, but the room stays cold, and we are getting chills. Within minutes we had gone from choosing which restaurant we’d eat dinner at, to grabbing the room service menu. We both felt like crap. I ordered chicken Alfredo, and he ordered the pizza, but by the time our food arrived we were both coming down with fevers, and so neither of us were hungry. The room wasn’t getting warmer and I called front desk to ask them what could be done about our freezing room. They engineer arrived within minutes and he said something needed to be adjusted somewhere, and off he went – and the warmth did start to come from the vents, thank God! So to make a long story short, we spent those two days on the ship horribly sick in bed and taking regular doses of fever and pain medication, watching HBO from time to time – not that anything good was on those days anyway.

The first night I felt something touching my knee, and that was creepy. I’d try to ignore it, until I had to brush whatever it was away. It was persistent though and I brushed “it” away maybe four or five times before it finally subsided.

The morning of our departure I was thinking about the ship’s horn and why I hadn’t noticed it at all during our stay. It goes off on a regular schedule, and is so loud you can’t hardly miss it – I really enjoy hearing it go off. About twenty minutes later I heard a very clear, very male voice say in my ear “It’s coming.” I thought my husband had said something but he wasn’t close to me, he was on the other side of the bed.
“What did you say?” I asked him anyway.
“I didn’t say anything,” he answered.
“Yes you did. You just said something in my ear. What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything.”
He was still sick, and I knew he wasn’t playing around.
Just then the ships’s horn sounded loud and long. Obviously, “it’s coming” meant the horn was about to blow, and our ghostly friend was kind enough to let me know. Least he could do for sucking our energy so he could haunt the ship for the past two nights.

So as a ghost hunter I have to ask myself now, am the the hunter? Or the hunted??? My guess is there’s a degree of give and take in the matter. It was my turn to give that time.

Hello again…it’s been awhile I know. Loving all these ghost hunting shows until I realized that with some of them you get so little action it’s almost as if they are trying to disprove ghosts exist.

I guess there’s some style for everyone, and I can tell from facebook postings that many people love the comic style of Ghost Adventures…so boogie for them. I personally like the guys, and feel they know their game, but I would prefer less clowning around, and more serious investigation.

I guess I’ve come to appreciate the Ghost Hunters methods more, even though they had been getting on my nerves for awhile for picking on poor Brian all the time, who really seemed like he was bending over backwards to make Jason happy…

By the way, by now you might know that Ryan and his team won’t be returning for Paranormal State, which happened to be a pretty good show. Too bad. Enjoy these last episodes because… they are the last.

So Ghost Adventures, a little less three stooges from you guys would be nice – believe me, you’re entertaining enough without the wigs, goofy faces, and silly antics…

Ghost Hunters, you’ve encountered a lot of good evidence…just wish you weren’t so over-dramatic with the music and subliminal sound effects…Glad you got rid of certain air-headed investigators – and we all know who that might be…

Paranormal State, will miss you.

Keeping it Short and Sweet! — Gina

angelI grew up near the Whaley house. I’m not going to blog the history much, but if you’re here reading this post, you’re probably already familiar with the Whaley house. It’s one of two certified haunted houses in California (the other being the Winchester House in San Jose).
 
As teenagers with driving licenses, me and my friends found ourselves there many a weekend. It’s changed a little. This may date me, but one thing different is there used to be a cool old trolleycar in the yard. There was always someone already on the trolley, or soon to show up, who knew the stories of the house. We would sit on the old seats and listen, and from our seats watch breathlessly the house curtains to see if they moved. They actually never did move, but I’m pretty sure from the stories told, the ghosts inside were busy with duties other than peeking out to scare the voyeurs.
 
Once, while I peered through a door window I did hear something like a hand grasping and turning the doorknob. When I looked, I saw not a movement at all. Still, I ran back to my friends and told them, and truthfully admitted it could’ve been all my imagination. But it was something to keep us hopeful because in spite of the unshakeable feeling that someone was there walking beside you, most of our visits were visually uneventful.
 
Between visits I read books about the famous California haunt. One account is particularly stand-outish. A group of SDSU students studying paranormal had obtained permission to spend the night. I can’t help but wonder if they went in skeptical, but they ended up observing a heavy table floating and walking through the house, kitchen utensils, including knives, levitating and flying through the kitchen, and other unusual sights. Some of the students reached enough conclusion to leave before the night was officially over. I don’t think I’d be too comfortable with flying knives myself.
 
The famous ghost hunter, Hans Holzer, also stayed over at the Whaley House, accompanied by then San Diego celebrity, Regis Philbin, and famous psychic, Sybil Leek. Apparently, they were welcomed to the house by none other than the ghost of Anna Whaley, mistress of the manor, herself. While Hans and Sybil attempted to communicate. an excited and novice Regis turned his flashlight on her ghostly image, and she disappeared. Oh well. Probably the last ghost hunt he was invited to.
 
One night some friends and I stopped by after midnight – we were 17-ish – and we joined several young college kids on the porch working a Ouija board. One of the guys invited me to partner with him on the board. I agreed. The pointer (planchette) slid across the board easily. We asked our invisible partner his name, and got the name Seth. I thought for sure my college boy was moving the planchette, but alas, when his fingers slipped off momentarily, the instrument continued sliding across the board – and I knew I wasn’t moving it! To be honest I can’t remember what more Seth said, I was a little uneasy with it after that. I had been comfortable thinking that it was all a game we were playing. Searching for ghosts was like searching for a pot of gold at the end of a rainbow, and then all of a sudden it was not a game. I never touched a Ouija board after that night.  
 
Still I was drawn to the Whaley house. One night I sat outside the window. Suddenly I was aware that I was coming out of a trance of sorts – aware that for the past few seconds I had been listening to a murmur of voices – like a party had been going on in the house, and though I couldn’t make out any words or single out any conversation, there had been many voices, and clinks of dinnerware.
When I came to full awareness I could no longer hear anything coming from the house, but I was left with an awareness that I had gone into a trance state, and been allowed entry into another dimension where life at the Whaley house continues to flow. 
 
My last time at the Whaley house was Halloween, 2005. This was my first time inside. I had two experiences. The first took place a few minutes into my visit, in the kitchen. I was talking with the docent when I felt a cold draft envelope me from head to toe, encircling me like an icy robe. I asked the docent if she had any ghost stories and she said a few minutes earlier a lady had mentioned seeing a hazy feminine figure standing in the corner of the kitchen.
 
Later, while going down the staircase I distinctly felt someone tug at me from the side, encouraging me down the stairs. In NO way did I feel pushed from behind- like someone trying to push me down the stairs. It was more like a child that I had told we were going to go get some ice cream trying to hurry me along in a “Let’s go!” fashion.
 
It’s time for me to go to the Whaley House again. This week or next. I’ll let you know if I happen to have an experience.
 
Till Then!
Gina
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