If you live in Washington State you have the choice of visiting a great Haunted House hosted by a local radio Station and in addition to that choice ( you lucky Devils ) you can also opt to go on Ghost Tour and learn about Seattle’s real life haunted past.
The KUBE 93 Haunted House is going to scare you senseless this year at the creepy, insanely authentic location at the former Georgetown Morgue south of downtown Seattle.
And if you want to add to your Halloween Fun then consider taking
The Haunted Seattle Tour
I happen to love a good story and I love the ones with that taste of reality in it. Unlike the Haunted Houses, which are fun and you should do at least one in your life time, tours like the one Jake will take you on will leave the ‘what if’ door in your mind’s eye wide open.
And do you know what walks into doors that are left wide open?
Jake, a local ghost enthusiast, takes you on a van tour visiting haunts like:
The Elegant Hotel
The Mortuary
The Market
Gambling Den
Poor Farm
The Voice
The Castle
Old Burial Ground
The Basketball Player
Haunted Theater
Notorious Rooming House
I don’t do the haunted house tour thing ( you know, after you’ve worked in a Funeral Home and had to visit real morgues and years later all you can remember is the taste of McDonald’s French fries because you were consistently assigned removals in the afternoons- just before lunch)- Morgues don’t exactly scare me-
the thought of them now just makes me hungry.
For French Fries.
The super-sized serving.
Anyway.
I thought the setup for the Georgetown Morgue was a fun idea, a very neat story and the building the “morgue” is staged in is way over the top and looks the part.
Most funeral homes, let’s face it, were supposed to blend because they were either near churches or in neighborhoods and people actually lived in them.
However subtle- some of them are they are weird if you know what to look for the weirdness- take a look at the garage doors and back doors which are wider then normal to accommodate you know, things which require a lot room to move through, and though the writer of the above mentioned article does toss in the small smoke stacks at the Evergreen Washelli Funeral Home and how unscary they are but he fails to mention the actual creepy thing is the mirror mounted on the roof and tilted upwards towards the smoke stack.
The Funeral Directors use this mirror to make sure the smoke doesn’t turn dark during the cremation process…see CREEPY.
You just need to know where to look to find it.
However- there’s always an however isn’t there?
On a visit Dubque Iowa, I saw this amazing funeral home called Behr’s- which looks scary by any measure.
So what do I think about the ‘debunking’ of the Georgetown Morgue?
Well.
I’d say the writer who did this didn’t prove anything other then the only story he could come up with was the deconstructing of another writer’s work.
Creating a world and a story and legend for you to follow isn’t easy, placing it in terms that invite readers to want actually walk ( or drive ) to that door is actual work, bringing a building and people who never existed to life, takes effort, writing a vindictive little hit pieces to ruin the moment for people who wanted to visit the “Georgetown Morgue” ?
Geeze- now that’s just mean spirited.
So visit the setup site for the Georgetown Morgue,it’s actually well done- I thought the way they wove bits of Seattle’s real history into the ‘legend’ was pretty clever – the earthquakes, the hint of the Wa Mee Massacre, the death of a famous local musician wrapped in media hype- made it possible for present day for local residents to ‘relate’ to this building and to the story.
So no- I wouldn’t visit the haunted house- I couldn’t even be bribed with French Fries…however…if someone were to tell me more stories about the Georgetown Morgue– they would have my undivided attention.
After all, this is what we do during Halloween- we spin yarns, tell tales and for one night not only do we get to face the monsters-
it’s one of those Urban Legend stories about a ghost
that shows up on a security camera.
It made me think because
I have an elevator ghost story.
We have an old freight elevator at work
and the repair men who run the inspections- and its always a different inspection team from year to year- tell the same story about a building just two streets over from where I work.
This is a story ( it’s just a story I’m sure ) about a woman who was murdered on a service elevator that wasn’t used very often (she was moving boxes from her apartment to the basement ) over a holiday weekend and her corpse rode that elevator for three days.
Her remains were discovered after the long weekend was over when someone in the building complained about the service elevator running up and down all night long without stopping.
Nobody could get the elevator to stop and apparently the people in the building had a hard time finding a service crew to come in because of the holiday weekend.
So everyone had to listen to those gears and that motor humming and hissing and running up and down on that last night.
Finally the repair crew made it in and when they finally got the elevator stopped they were able to open the doors there she was.
Her neck was broken and her eyes and mouth had been sewn shut.
That was done, I learned before her neck had been snapped.
The elevator always had problems after that and no matter what they did they couldn’t fix it, so eventually the elevator was taken out and the shaft was turned into a staircase.
And sometimes, the people in the building say you can hear clicks and hums all night long coming from the stairwell.
So this story may just be an Urban Legend, like this video.
But the fact is as a writer I know that stories, all stories, were inspired by something or somebody
Once I was sitting on a beach late at night when a man walked by me and said, “It’s dark down there ” and as he walked away from me I realized he had been looking to his left as he spoke…and from his left I thought I heard an answer
only
nobody was to his left …
except for the Ocean.
All these years later I’m glad for one thing…that I never got a good look at his face.
Strange things happen at Sea…This true story is one of them.
Crewman’s disappearance during rescue in Alaska unexplained
Story Updated: Mar 29, 2008 at 10:02 AM PDT
By JEANNETTE J. LEE, Associated Press Writer
ANCHORAGE, Alaska (AP) – As the fishing vessel Alaska Ranger sank to the bottom of the Bering Sea, crewman Byron Carrillo and 1st Assistant Engineer James Madruga struggled to stay afloat in the rough and frigid waves.
With Carrillo drifting into hypothermic shock after nearly five hours, the arrival of a Coast Guard rescue helicopter was a blessing, Madruga said Friday. He told the rescue swimmer to “take Byron first” and watched the panicked crewman being loaded into a dangling basket.
But when he reached the helicopter himself, Carrillo was nowhere to be seen…
Sometimes on my way to Whopperville ( that’s what I say when I’m working on a story…I’m heading out to Whopperville ) I’ve run across some true stories that haunt me- they give me nightmares or creep me out for days.
At the moment I’m working on a story about a Hanging Tree and in my research I found out that the slang name for these trees were ” Dancing Trees “
I’ll let that visual sort of sink in there.
At first blush some of my friends with more refined literary tastes thought I was making a poetic gesture when I floated the first draft for this story out to them.
You can stop laughing now.
The image that came to my mind about Dancing Trees came to me one night and woke me from a dead sleep.
And there was nothing poetic about it.
I saw a group of people sitting under a large shady tree on a hot day having a picnic. They were dressed in their best summer clothes and as they laughed softly and admired the beauty around them I knew they are blissfully ignorant to the fact that
Bernie Griffiths shares her experiences and spooky encounters at a local beauty spot known as ‘Biniki’ at Kings Mills, Wrexham, and the Hang Man’s tree.
There is a mill by the river but to get to the really spooky part you have to walk under a bridge. It belongs to the National Trust. Anyway, by the bridge in Biniki there is a tree where events have occurred for centuries.
We normally go there during the summer months and sit on the side by what is called Hang Man’s tree for obvious reasons. There has always been a presence there and I can sense paranormal activity quite easily. That’s why everyone comes with me.
This one night though it got very scary indeed, so much so I told everybody to get up and make for the road. My niece, myself and my husband got across the bridge in time but as we turned to scream for the others they had been blocked off with what can only be described as a distorted shape of mist. It was just floating there and when they moved, it moved.
We screamed for them to run but it followed. They ran through the river but it didn’t cross. As we ran nearly a mile to get out of there it was on the other side of the river along side of us every inch of the way back to the mill where it stayed in the woods. Quite an experience.
I spoke to someone many weeks after that and I asked them when they were younger did they ever experience anything there. They described the same shape even though I had not mentioned it. We have been back there and it has happened a few more times at the same time around about 2.25am.
We have only ever managed to stay there once through the night. This is only one area that has activity. Coming back from there another night we couldn’t stay because it was getting a bit uneasy there. We started to walk back though and got out safe and sound.
However as we passed through the gates on the opposite side of the old mill me and my brother saw a man walking straight at us, we moved apart so he could pass between us. We said ‘hello’ to him but he ignored us.
Anyway we turned to make sure my husband was OK because he was straggling behind. As we turned the man just walked straight through him. I looked at my brother and he looked at me. My husband was oblivious to it all and said he saw no-one there. All I can say is there are many discssions about Biniki but you have to be there at the right time and the spirits seem to love being there when I am.
Iowa county board gives initial OK for ghost hunters to investigate asylum built in 1855
By Associated Press
IOWA CITY, Iowa (AP) – County officials have given their informal OK for ghost hunters to check out a one-time insane asylum to see if any spirits are lurking about.
The Johnson County Board of Supervisors took the initial action on the request from the Johnson County Historical Society, which gives tours of the 153-year-old building.
Brandon Cochran, museum operations assistant for the historical society, said there have never been reports of ghosts or bizarre happenings at the building and that bringing in a paranormal team is “kind of taking the pre-emptive approach.
He wants an Iowa-based paranormal investigative team to come in for one night. Cochran said he hopes they don’t find any paranormal activity and the investigation can put to rest any speculation.
A four-person Carroll Area Paranormal Team will use thermal imaging equipment and voice recording systems, Cochran said.
A date for an investigation wasn’t set and an agreement will have to be drafted releasing the county of any liability before the supervisors formally approve the request, Cochran said.
The remaining wing was built in 1855 and housed mentally ill patients who were deemed insane. It was a self-sufficient 160-acre site with residents growing corn, potatoes, wheat, hay and tobacco.
The building is now called Chatham Oaks, and houses people with physical and mental disabilities. Chatham Oaks officials said there wouldn’t be a problem with the paranormal team coming in as long as it didn’t disturb residents, said county facilities director Dave Kempf.
Tomorrow, Saturday, November 3, WNJ’s own Joanne Austin and Ryan Doan will be signing their book Weird Hauntings: True Tales of Ghostly Places, at the Barnes & Noble store in Howell from 2 to 4 PM. The store is located on the northbound side of Route 9.
NOW HERE’S A TASTE….READ THIS BOOK…IN THE DARK…I DARE YOU
amm
“Did you hear something?” “Is someone there?” “Did you ever get that feeling you were being watched?” Sometimes, fellow readers, there are no answers to these questions. At least no answers that make sense in our real, tangible, predictable world. Because there is another world out there – one that’s full of weird hauntings.And who better to bring otherworldly nightmares to you than Weird NJ’s own Joanne Austin, who has compiled the eeriest, strangest, most hair-raising, and true (as far as we mortals can tell) stories of ghosts that haunt our neighborhoods, battlefields, restaurants, roads, hotels, schools, and.….homes. All the dead are beautifully illustrated and brought back to life by long time Weird NJ artist Ryan Doan (RyanDoan.com).
Whether it’s the specters that traverse Zombie Road, the Nob Hill Ghost, the spirits of weary soldiers at Antietam, or the antics of little Sarah who invisibly moves objects in an Ohio inn, you are about to encounter specters who will startle you, sometimes make you smile, and, more often than not, scare the living daylights out of you.
Weird hauntings are everywhere. And, good people that we are, we even include their addresses.
Sleeping with the lights on tonight? Don’t forget to check under the bed.
Cavana Devaney’s house has windows between its walls.
The windows have been painted black and they’ve been nailed shut and even though there is no sunlight here they are still warm to the touch.
” Almost done? ” A voice called into Cavana’ s house, ” It’s getting late and I don’t want to drive over Old Creek in the dark. That place creeps me out. ”
” Oh yeah? Why’s that? ”
” Cause it’s haunted. ”
” Please.”
” But it’s true, I heard that years ago some crazy woman buried some Aliens under the Bridge and when they started to rot everyone in town got sick.”
Cavana’s House listened and the lace curtains that covered her windows stopped stirring and in the darkest corners a little light made it’s way in.
” You work in a funeral home you ding bat, have you ever seen a ghost?”
” No.”
” Then why are you afraid of that Bridge? ”
The Strange voices wandered through Cavana’s House, stopping here and there to smooth, straighten and make right ruined pieces of furniture.
They fixed and restored fixtures.
And with skilled hands they brought Cavana’s House back to life.
” Because it’s haunted. ”
” Fine, it’s haunted, but by what? ”
” Ghosts. Look, just because I’ve never seen one doesn’t mean they aren’t there. Maybe we’re just not looking in the right places.”
” Geeze, are you going to close up here or should I? ”
” Go ahead.” Roman Droguett said to his partner Lister ” But you’ve been out there, you know something is out on that Bridge. Everybody knows it. Everybody’s known it since the year that woman found those bones hanging from the tree at the north end of the Bridge.You’re just so blind you can’t see what’s under your own nose.”
” How true ” thought Cavana’s House as the Mortician named Lister closed the incision just above her collarbone with heavy white thread ” How true.”
Besides having the perks you get for growing up in a tropical paradise I lived in place where I was taught to recognize and name Spirits and Ghosts, I learned how to protect myself from demons and curses and I also learned how to grow my own food, take care of trauma injuries and I leaarned how to tell a story.
Ghost Stories.
So tonight, out here on Anita’s Owl Creek Bridge I thought I’d share some stories about my childhood home- the only problem I had was where to start.
And I finally decided on
The Cane Field Cats.
Every morning my after my Grandmother would get my Aunts and Uncles set off to work and the older kids set off to school she and I would get ready for the Canfield Cats.
Every morning we would feed the cats a mixture of fresh fish and shrimp and rice.
My Grandmother would turn the mixture over and over with her hands and then she’d put the food in pie pans and I would take it out to the little place under the coconut tree my Grandfather made special for the cats.
I’d put the pans down and run back to the lowest step and my Grandmother would stand on the top step and she’d call the cats down and as they’d all walk towards us they used to look up at me and meow.
” Tell them hello” my Grandmother would say.
I would say hello and then I’d look back up at her and she said, ” Don’t let anybody touch them Anita”
That wasn’t hard- nobody wanted to touch my Cane Field Cats, they wouldn’t lean over to pet them or talk to them the way I did.
My older cousins would look grim when they saw the Cats and my Aunts and Uncles and my Mom would just look at me and they’d say, ” they’re not pets you know.”
As time went on the cats spent more and more time with me- they’d take off for the Fields at night but during the day they’d follow me around.
They would sit next to me when I was playing outside, or they’d crawl under my bed at nap time and when I’d go out on the porch to practice my singing they’d sun themselves on the steps and watch.
My cousins used to call the cats ” Anita’s Shadow “.
Here’ the funny thing about ” Anita’s Shadow “-
My dad was a shutterbug- he loved to take pictures and I was a very unwilling model ( I was about four at the time ) and the only way he could get pictures of me was to sneak up and take them when I wasn’t looking.
So you would think that in at least one of those pictures- in a corner or off to the side or under my feet or sitting next to me or near me ( because they were Always there ) would be at least one picture of those Cane Field Cats.
There are no pictures of those cats- and when I asked about it years later my Dad got that same grim look on his face that everyone had when they saw those cats around the yard and he said ” ask your Mother ”
Thinking my Mom knew where I could find a picture I went and asked her about the Cane Field Cats and she pulled out an album, turned a page to pictures of me and she said, ” they’re there Anita…they’re in every single picture.”
” There are no cats in those pictures Mom.” I said without looking down.
” That’s the problem Anita, you’re looking for Cats.”
One of these days I’ll look at those pictures again-
When I was a kid my Mom told me this story about a failed exorcism.
The thing of it is nobody knew it failed for about 40 years. The story was that a young man had been taken over by a demon and a priest was supposed to have driven the demon out.
When the man died 40 years later, he was supposed to have confessed to a Priest on his deathbed that he (the demon) had never left.
I found out later that more then a few people suspected this all along.
After he died they buried him just outside of the Cemetery.
No one knows where.
But he’s out there.
He IS real.
How do I know?
How do you think I found my way to my own Owl Creek Bridge?
Welcome to Anita’s Owl Creek Bridge Oscar, I think you’re going to feel right at home.
amm
Cat predicts deaths of nursing home residents
By Associated Press
PROVIDENCE, R.I. (AP) – Oscar the cat seems to have an uncanny knack for predicting when nursing home patients are going to die, by curling up next to them during their final hours.
His accuracy, observed in 25 cases, has led the staff to call family members once he has chosen someone. It usually means they have less than four hours to live.
“He doesn’t make too many mistakes. He seems to understand when patients are about to die,” said Dr. David Dosa in an interview. He describes the phenomenon in a poignant essay in Thursday’s issue of the New England Journal of Medicine.
“Many family members take some solace from it. They appreciate the companionship that the cat provides for their dying loved one,” said Dosa, a geriatrician and assistant professor of medicine at Brown University.
The 2-year-old feline was adopted as a kitten and grew up in a third-floor dementia unit at the Steere House Nursing and Rehabilitation Center. The facility treats people with Alzheimer’s, Parkinson’s disease and other illnesses.
After about six months, the staff noticed Oscar would make his own rounds, just like the doctors and nurses. He’d sniff and observe patients, then sit beside people who would wind up dying in a few hours.
Dosa said Oscar seems to take his work seriously and is generally aloof. “This is not a cat that’s friendly to people,” he said.
Oscar is better at predicting death than the people who work there, said Dr. Joan Teno of Brown University, who treats patients at the nursing home and is an expert on care for the terminally ill
She was convinced of Oscar’s talent when he made his 13th correct call. While observing one patient, Teno said she noticed the woman wasn’t eating, was breathing with difficulty and that her legs had a bluish tinge, signs that often mean death is near.
Oscar wouldn’t stay inside the room though, so Teno thought his streak was broken. Instead, it turned out the doctor’s prediction was roughly 10 hours too early. Sure enough, during the patient’s final two hours, nurses told Teno that Oscar joined the woman at her bedside.
Doctors say most of the people who get a visit from the sweet-faced, gray-and-white cat are so ill they probably don’t know he’s there, so patients aren’t aware he’s a harbinger of death. Most families are grateful for the advanced warning, although one wanted Oscar out of the room while a family member died. When Oscar is put outside, he paces and meows his displeasure.
No one’s certain if Oscar’s behavior is scientifically significant or points to a cause. Teno wonders if the cat notices telltale scents or reads something into the behavior of the nurses who raised him.
Nicholas Dodman, who directs an animal behavioral clinic at the Tufts University Cummings School of Veterinary Medicine and has read Dosa’s article, said the only way to know is to carefully document how Oscar divides his time between the living and dying.
If Oscar really is a furry grim reaper, it’s also possible his behavior could be driven by self-centered pleasures like a heated blanket placed on a dying person, Dodman said.
Nursing home staffers aren’t concerned with explaining Oscar, so long as he gives families a better chance at saying goodbye to the dying.
Oscar recently received a wall plaque publicly commending his “compassionate hospice care.”
There’s an Urban Legend- based on an Old Wives Tale that at twenty minutes after the hour ” an inexplicable silence ” will strike a group of conversationalists.
I’ve never actually noticed this, but I years ago I think I saw something like it happening in my back yard for almost an entire summer.
My Sister and her family had just moved back to the State and we had invited them to live with us while they looked for a place and settled back into the Pacific Northwest life.
It was Summer and it was hot so her daughters, who were about 4 and 6 years old, were spending a lot of time in the backyard in their little swimming pool or they would hang around in the shade playing with their toys and my cats and dogs.
I started to notice that once a day the girls and my dogs would walk the same place along the fence line until they reached the far corner of the yard where there’s an Oak tree and once they got there they’d stop and stand.
They would each seem to be looking straight ahead in different directions and then they would walk away in different directions and get on with the rest of their day.
It was a game I thought so I was able to put it from my mind for a little while
But it was happening over and over again.
So finally one day I asked my older Niece what they were doing in the corner of the yard with the dogs and she said, ” You know. ”
I said I didn’t and then she shrugged and motioned for me to lean over. Then she says in my ear ” You know.”
From the look on her face it looked like she felt like she had made her point. I could tell it was really important to her that I get it so I smiled back and said, ” Oh, I see.”
Well that went nowhere fast, and I just let it go.Then one day I came home from work and there they were in the corner of the yard, all four of them standing still and I could clearly see that they were all looking directly At something.
” What are you girls doing there? ” I said over the fence and my youngest niece looked up at me and smiled and laughed and said, “We’re not doing anything Tia. “
She was looking over my shoulder when she said that and did I turn around to catch a look at what she saw?
Photographer’s notes: “Mineral palace Great Northern Celebration July 8 1893” “Pavilion Pioneer Square. Celebration of Completion of the Great Northern Ry July 3 1893”.
I put this here because my Grandfather told me that a man was buried under those steps alive (of course) in vault after he was caught cheating in a game of cards that didn’t involve money.
Grandpa told me he was sure the man could probably hear the construction going on above him but that no one could hear him screaming-
That’s another story I grew up on because some of my family members were there that day and they saw those elephants and the Circus Performers walking down the middle of the street that I now cross every day to catch my bus.
100 years almost to the day I hear a story from who woman sees the Ringling Brothers train come through Seattle.
The train is pulling empty animal cages and travel cars and Big Top rigging on flat beds. She remembers lace curtains in the private cars and the faded circus logo painted on anything that could hold paint.
She says she still doesn’t know how to explain the feeling she got when she realized she didn’t see one person moving around in the passenger cars or in the engine car or getting on or off the train the entire time it was stopped right off her loading dock.
Not a Soul.
True story.
( Luna Park )
The Luna Park Fire– if my Grandfather or Aunt told me a good ghost or murder story they always tied it to the Luna Park Fire and DIRECTLY to the Famous Looff Carousel.
After years of being scared out of my mind by those stories I was glad ( in a very malcious way ) when they came to the part when the Park burned down- but the part that always haunted me was the part about how the Carousel gets away.
Specifically, how it always seems to get away.
The Carousel’s Weird Story starts when the famous Carousel craftsman Charles Looff built it in 1906. The Carousel was supposed to be sent to an amusement park in San Francisco- but it was re-routed to Seattle because of the Great San Francisco Earthquake and Fire.
(Escaped was the word my Grandfather used)
It was installed in Luna Park in 1907 and it was the only thing to survive the Luna Park Fire in 1911.
(Escaped was the word my Aunt used and she insisted they moved it at dark)
It was purchased by a private collector in the 1970’s and put in storage in New Mexico- Roswell, New Mexico and I am NOT making that up.
That Carousel is still around- it’s in San Francisco and I wouldn’t go near it for neither love or money.
So there’s my 2nd Avenue in Seattle-
some of these places I’ve told you about are on it
or under it or just a few blocks down
from it.
That Street
haunted me and inspired me for my entire life and I guess that should make sense because
When I sit down and get ready to write a story here at the Bridge this scene from the movie Barton Fink comes to mind.
Charlie:
Take a look around… You’re just a tourist with a typewriter, Barton. I live here. Don’t you understand that . . .
That scene pops into my head when I start to write a story because as a writer who sits by a campfire under a Bridge between the worlds and tells stories to strangers who happen to be passing by I can identify with Barton (the visitor) being raged at by Charlie, the man inhabiting a world that other people can only catch a glimpse of.
A world that they haven’t been invited into.
I started to go back to that scene in ‘Barton Fink’ several times a day ( what can I say, I write a lot) and I began to wonder –What was it REALLY like down there?
So I asked Regan Vacknitz to stop by and tell me what it’s like to reside, to be an invited guest to end of The Bridge. I asked Regan because she’s the best guide in town-
Regan, you see, is a real life Paranormal Investigator.
So let’s make some room for her round the campfire tonight. She has an interesting story to tell:
My husband, David aka Vinnie, and I started this group roughly two
years ago. However, we have been doing investigations for about four years. Our very first investigation was Thornewood Castle. Thornewood is m known for being the creepy mansion in Stephen King’s “Rose Red.”
It was through the investigations at the Historical Societies that
really got us thinking about our direction.
A lot of paranormal groups just want to investigate the larger known locations. We do, don’t get us wrong, but we also like the smaller unknowns as well.
We love working with the historical societies, because they keep us going. Our support of them keeps them going. We really assist each other.On the private residency side, we discovered that we are the only team, so far, that actually has a follow up “Post investigation family welfare check” form that we use.
We have found through experiences with other teams, that those teams usually do the investigations and turn over the findings in a report form.If you have a family that is calling you for help, usually you’re their resort to ending their fear and chaos.
It seems a bit one sided if you go in, investigate, turn over findings and never contact them again. Who benefits? Only the paranormal teams do.
We have essentially taken on the role of Sociologist and community service providers. Our team prides itself on the follow up we do. We have shared our form with other teams, who have said, “Wow this is really a great idea!”
On the community service side, we have recently adopted a stretch of
highway for litter control. The stretch is about 1.75 miles, and along
side a cemetery. Can’t beat that!! You can find us on Highway 99, next
to Gethsemane Catholic Cemetery near Fife, WA.
We are also in the process of trying to adopt an older cemetery for documentation and photography, as well as beautification.
We are very into the community that provides us with an avenue to
pursue our macabre, bizarre, and unique hobbies.
I’d like to thank Regan for sharing her story. I hope you’ll drop by A.P.A.R.T and check out their site- here. Following ( in part ) is their mission statement as well as their contact information.
amm
We are A.P.A.R.T. of Washington
A.P.A.R.T. stands for Auburn Paranormal Activities Research Team.
We are a non charging, professional, light hearted but serious, fun loving team. We try to prove things scientifically, before ever declaring anything possibly haunted. We are honest if we do not get any viable evidence. We do not, NOR WILL WE EVER, CHARGE for our evidence, investigations, etc. We do, however, accept donations.
“Anita, you write stories about ghosts and the living dead…you worked in a funeral home so tell me…what’s the scariest thing you’ve ever seen? ”
To be honest, I’ve seen lots of strange things but I’ve never seen anything that ever scared me. So I’ll laugh, joke and blow the question off.
Ask me the right question though and you’ll get a different answer- you’ll get THE answer.
I’ve never SEEN anything that frightened me but once I felt something that did.
I was working alone in a basement and for once I had the radio off and it was quiet, just still and calm. It was a nice feeling, sort of a ‘sitting by the lake at sunset’ feeling.
I was reaching for something up high on a shelf when I felt something tug at the bottom of my plaid work shirt- I always wear oversized plaid shirts when I’m down there because the dust is so bad it wrecks my clothes. I thought I’d caught my shirttail on something so I reached back and pulled it down.
Then I walked to the next shelf and just as I reached up I felt that tug again and I stood there with my arm halfway up in the air when I felt the same tug- up higher this time- under my shoulder blade.
I knew I wasn’t alone.
And I knew if I turned around there would be nobody standing there.
Now, when I’m in trouble, or stressed out I give myself these pep talks and it’s always my Grandfather’s voice I hear.Only this time it was my Great Grandmother I heard- and let me tell you she was ‘snap your spine if you made her angry’ type of a woman.
Comfort was not a word that springs to mind when I think of Nan.
” Don’t you dare turn around ” I was hearing, ” You keep those eyes forward and don’t turn around.”
Then I felt something tug at the end of my braid and I bit my lips really hard and tried to not yell. But I didn’t turn around and I walked away from the shelf and didn’t look back.
Worse then that tug on my shirt was that feeling that something was just behind me. Whatever it was wouldn’t go away and it followed me up the basement stairs.
When I got to the top steps and crossed over the threshold I turned around and pulled the door closed. And then I opened it again reached in and snapped the light off.
This time I kicked the door shut.
That’s it; those five minutes are the one thing that scared me. You can make what you like of those minutes- after all I still wonder about them myself.
I’d advise you to not consider them when you’re alone though, I don’t.
In the mean time you can visit Bernadine’s very sleek new website for the movie by clicking here and you can read a very wonderful article she wrote about making The Cry for Anita’s Owl Creek Bridge here .
And you can get a very sweet taste of the film here .
Just remember as you go through these links and watch the trailer-
!!!Alien Encounter Haunted House
presented by Eastern New Mexico Medical Center!!!!
Come join us for a close encounter of the Roswell kind!
Not so sure aliens really crashed here
60 years ago?
Come check out our own little Area 51 and see for yourself!
Admission is $5 per person and all proceeds benefit the American Cancer Society Resource Center at ENMMC.
Note: THIS IS SCARY!
Smaller children are advised to remain in the bottom level Star Wars-inspired Cantina area
ALIEN ADULT DODGEBALL
TOURNAMENT
Most Important of all
you’ll have the chance to defend the honor of your Planet
ANITA'S OWL CREEK BRIDGE 
