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EDITORIAL 10 frickin’ years, 3,653 days, yes, I counted the three leap years thank you very much. Did I ever think Haunted Magazine would get to celebrate being 10 years old? HELL YES, well in a perfect world I did, but the paranormal world is not perfect, far from it.
17 COVER FEATURE: AUSCHWITZ
PARANORMAL BUCKET LIST: Auschwitz, a place that shouldn’t even exist as captured through the eyes of our para-urbex photographer Katie Waller
Looking back at the first issue from 2009, it may have been ahead of its time, but the idea and the ethos of it is still the same as it is now and we’ve evolved, devolved and revolved with the paranormal. We’ve listened & we’ve learnt, we’ve spoke out & we’ve confronted, we’ve informed & we’ve entertained, we’ve even cocked up & made mistakes from time to time.
04 THE ABBOT OF NETLEY ABBEY
Nicky Alan swears blind she saw a figure and when we say “swears” we mean it
11 BRITAIN’S MOST HAUNTED HOUSE? Can Tatton Old Hall claim just that?
One thing is for sure, we love the paranormal more than ever and as John, Paul, George and Ringo sang, “all you need is love, a K2 Meter, a REM-Pod & a SLS camera (all together now)”.
15 JAMES PYKETT’S HAUNTED NOTTINGHAMSHIRE
Innocent or Guilty, the Galleries of Injustice
24 NOT SO ‘ORRIBLE HISTORIES
#DONTBENORMAL - BE PARANORMAL!
Paul
The History and Mystery of the Paranormal
26 MIKI WENT DOWN TO THE WOODS He’s sure of a big surprise…
33 DOCTOR Q IN HIS PENULTIMATE ADVENTURE:
51 THE (ash)BOURNE ULTIMATUM
Wicked Witches of West Wickham Part II
Action, thrills & spills in Derbyshire
36 THE SOUTHEND WEREWOLF
54 YOU’VE SEEN A GHOST, YES?
T.O.W.I.E, the only Werewolf in Essex.
What the f**k does that mean?
38 CAN GHOSTS TIME TRAVEL?
57 FRICKIN’ FREAKY FRIGHTENING FURNITURE
Past, present, future… it’s all getting tense
Fancy something to eat, try this “Death” seat
41 YOUR MOTHER COOKS SOCKS IN HELL
60 THE GHOSTS OF WAR
And maybe visits The Exorfist House? Find out what happened when Vicky Grant went there.
06 CREATING THE PARANORMAL ‘Haunted Hospitals’ Morgan Knudsen’s debut feature for Haunted Magazine
To Hull and back with Mike Covell
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29 WHO D O YOU THINK YOU ARE?
Medium Barrie John: Have I got Newstead for you? HAUN TED
PARANORMAL LOCKWOOD
ESTEP CONFIDENTIAL
Jolene Lockwood, paranormal investigator eats our biscuits as she answers our questions
Our resident paranormal paramedic and the moving story of a boy named Kyle
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THE ABBOT OF NETLEY ABBEY BY NICKY ALAN
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t was 2005 and I had just recently dipped into being a fulltime professional medium. I had carried out a reading for someone who then invited me to a ghost hunt at Netley Abbey in a small village called Netley in Southampton, Hampshire. I had absolutely no idea of the history of the place and thought that it would be a fun thing to go and do. At this point having been psychic since birth I had really only dealt with light energy, nothing negative.
So, believe me when I say that I was in for a shock! My granddad also a medium, had told me to never worry about the dead it was the living you had to look out for. He also told me that no matter what entity you get faced with, never show fear. We arrived after a long drive to the Abbey. It was a perfect summer’s day with a gentle breeze. The Abbey ruins themselves are a stunning sight to behold. There were also outer buildings and chapels in various state of disrepair surrounding the majestic Abbey. It actually sits on stunning grounds quite close to the Solent, which really does give you a false sense of security. There were a lot of people already there, you could feel the hub of excitement as people chatted animatedly. I started to smile but as my foot touched the outer grounds I was drawn to a huge doorway. Standing there with his arms folded was the most malicious looking spirit man that I had ever seen. He filled the doorway wearing a black cloak, his head nearly touching the lintel. His eyes followed mine as he sneered. I could feel the hairs on the back of my neck go up. I was aware of his piercing stare as I walked to join the group. So, this was an active spirit then, I registered, as his eyes followed my every movement. He then vanished and I could feel my heartbeat slow to a normal pace again. I didn’t say anything as I was a newbie and didn’t want to look like an idiot. Darkness soon came and we were placed into groups. I walked to a little lodge after checking out the whole area. As I walked into the lodge, I gasped as I saw two monks on their knees in this little room. I thought initially they were praying in peace but the tangible energy of fear charged the room. I then gasped as I saw their heads come clean off of their necks. It was a horrible thing to see. As I turned around I then saw a nun crying, holding onto her stomach which looked like it had been ripped out. 04
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I ran from the place feeling nauseous and slightly embarrassed that I had bolted out of there! I had never been exposed to such violent paranormal scenes before. I had carried out house cleansings but this was my first ever ghost hunt. What an introduction! I decided to chill out in the open space for a while to regain my composure. After a while, I used my Dictaphone to see if I could record any EVP. On the first response, sounds of marching could be heard in their multitude crunching on the gravel underfoot. As I looked out across the surrounding land, I could see no phenomena that would explain the marching, what I did see in my mind’s eye though were fresh graves dug and moans of the spirit people that had obviously been buried there in unmarked graves. I couldn’t believe that there was so much pain in the ether. It was dense and uncomfortable. I was also shocked of the malevolence in such a religious place! This was a rude awakening. I was obviously being educated on how it felt to be faced with negative energy and such sadness and trauma. For the next couple of hours I kept clear of the lodge. Now, I would have been straight back in there! At that time, however, I was too afraid, I didn’t want to be faced with those visions again. MAGA Z I NE
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My legs were shaking beneath me as I could feel the full force of this entity trying to drag me downwards. The stench in the air was disgusting. I felt like I wanted to retch, but even that felt impossible. My whole body was trembling as I stood static enduring this onslaught. I then internally sighed with relief as I saw my granddad’s face in my mind. “Don’t you dare back down!” he said, “DO NOT show fear!” I then felt a strength permeate into my soul. I remember gritting my teeth and feeling the pain of my fingernails digging into my palms. My granddad was right. Who the hell did this thing think it was? I don’t know how I did it but I started to stand up straight. I was aware of me starting a deep throated growl as this thing continually tried to drop me to the floor. Then with an almighty release of energy I just screamed out at the top of my voice, “F**k off you piece of S**t!” I was raging! It took a few seconds then I could feel the weight on my back lighten. “I told you, f**k off you arsehole!” I screamed at the top of my lungs. I then started to push my body up even taller and flail my arms around as if I was trying to evade a storm of bees. After a few more seconds, which seemed like an eternity, the energy backed off as if it wasn’t even there. I saw a wisp of black mist move away from us and then nothing. I stood there still shaking, adrenalin pumping through my body. I was aware that I was hyper ventilating and made a massive effort to slow my breath. I checked that the girl was ok. “It was the Abbot,” she said, “He is a nasty one!” For an hour or so, I walked somewhat reluctantly around the rest of the ruined buildings hoping not to see further horror. I then realised that I had yet to see the ominous presence of the man who had greeted me when I first arrived. I didn’t have to wait long. I walked with another lady to the main Abbey ruins. We were on our own, which in hindsight wasn’t such a great thing. As we stood in what would have been the main Abbey hall, I saw what I can only describe as a plague of locusts flying towards us. It was like a dark dense mist that had small living matter flying around as it pounded towards us.
When it hit the both of us, the lady hit the floor like a sack of spuds. My breath was whipped out of my chest and I couldn’t breathe.
Nasty one? My god I was scared out of my senses! I was so weakened after the incident that I just drank hot chocolate and waited rather impatiently for us to go to the next location. Needless to say, I drank the hot chocolate in the safety of the car! After the investigation I was told that there was an abbot that used to brutalise monks at this place in the name of God. He would kill them in prayer and dismember them. It is said that he also impregnated nuns and then ripped the foetuses away from their bodies to absolve them of sin. It had been reported by previous investigators that this particular entity had thrown people across the floor, had thrown rocks at them creating injuries and was grounded in this place. It is said that many have tried to cross him over to the spirit world but he refuses to go.
I felt winded. My whole body was frozen as this thick freezing mist engulfed us. I then felt the bottom of my spine being dragged downwards. It felt like I was having my spinal cord ripped out. I was terrified as I couldn’t move.
I learned a lot that night. It prepared me for further investigations where I could sense a negative energy immediately. The Abbot also taught me how to get negative entities to back off and out of my energy.
I then saw the face of the huge man that I had seen on arrival snarling at me. He was taking immense pleasure in sucking every bit of energy out of me. I tried to look down to see if the girl was ok but found any movement futile. I had absolutely no idea what to do.
At some point I would adore to take him back on, as I have learned a hell of a lot since then!
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I am not sure if the public have access at night at the Abbey now, but if you want to be taken to your limits on a paranormal quest, then this is the place for you! MAGA Z I NE
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HAVE YOU HAD YOUR “PHIL” OF CREATING THE PARANORMAL?! by Morgan Knudsen
Entityseeker Paranormal Research & Teachings
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n 1973, an interesting discovery was made in Ontario, Canada. However, in the world of parapsychology, it was quickly forgotten about. A group of eight members of the Toronto Society for Psychical Research (TSPR) decided they wanted to address the question of why there were strange occurrences, such as rappings, voices, and other psychokinetic activity, at various mediumship sittings. Were they all a hoax? Was it the participants, themselves, unknowingly causing the phenomenon? Or, was it, indeed, a disembodied consciousness? Perhaps, it was a combination of all the above. Along with this list of questions, they also intended to film all these studies in the daylight. No spooky settings, no dark shadows. What was more: they decided they would not have anyone who claimed to have mediumship powers at the sittings, nor would they invoke a spirit they thought to be real. They would create one: A fictional man, named Philip.
with guilt, Philip took to pacing the battlements and, eventually, committed suicide by throwing himself from the high walls. The ten members worked hard at visualizing Philip as a real entity. They agreed on the particulars like his personality, appearance, traits, and more. They also decided to attempt to cause him to manifest in visible form; only then, they hypothesized, could he be summoned. The group members made a commitment to meet in weekly sessions for a year and, at every sitting, they would have a drawing of Philip in the middle of the table. They would meditate with the intention of communication, and then share what they experienced during the meditation. After a year, although fully convinced that Philip could have existed, they didn’t see much result with their experiment.
With ten original members, they created Philip’s story: He was an aristocratic Englishman living in the time of Oliver Cromwell, the mid1600s. He cheated on his wife, and when his wife found out about his mistress, she accused her of being a witch. Afraid to lose everything, Philip decided to back up his wife’s claims and his mistress was subsequently burned at the stake. Overcome
The accounts of the successful seances had included reports of people laughing, talking, having fun, and lots of jokes and happy moments. There was a clear sense of connection and bonding that was going on at these reported seances... and none of that had happened at their own sittings. Inspired, the Canadian group decided to make the changes and start having some fun!
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It wasn’t until one of the group members re-read many of the reports of active seances, when they realized they had missed one important factor: Joy.
Within three or four sessions, something incredible began to happen: The group felt a vibration in the table-top which began to become more and more audible. The table then began to slide randomly around the room, and everyone could see that no living person was either pushing or rapping it. From that point on, Philip seemed to be in full swing at all the sessions, knocking out answers to questions in time with songs, and even in a way that sounded like laughter when jokes were told. The group then decided to see if Philip knew “his” own story, which they had completely created. It seemed he did, rapping answers to questions consistent with the tale that the member, Sue, had created. Philip also gave historically inaccurate answers, which could almost always be traced to incorrect knowledge on the part of the group of storytellers. Although the group was fully aware of the fact, they had created Philip, they began to treat him as a group member, greeting him when they came in the room. The energy would seem to reply to the greetings with raps that seemed to come from under the table in front of the specific group member. Other phenomenon was quick to start as well, including lights flickering on and off, and extreme movements of chairs
and tables. The table would rock to music, and even chase people or levitate. In an attempt to show the Philip experiment was replicable, another group comprised of entirely different members of the TSPR decided to create a character for themselves. They named her Lilith, with a background that made her a French-Canadian spy who was shot in the line of duty. Within five weeks of the sittings and gatherings, they began to see the same results: Table rappings, movement of objects, and more. It also seemed to answer questions based on its fictional personality. As a result of this second experiment, they fully believed that any group of people could create what they did, under the same conditions. What does this mean for paranormal phenomenon? The implications are massive. I encountered this case long after I began my program, “Teaching the Living”, which has been successfully taught in social work/psychology programs in Canada. Teaching the Living is a highly specialized program intended on dealing with hauntings from a brand-new perspective: the client is not the victim but is an intricate part of their own solution.
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Entityseeker Research & Teachings co-founder, Stephanie Wertz, and I noticed an intriguing pattern with clients all over the world: Whether the phenomenon they were experiencing was negative or joyful seemed directly related to their way of being in the world. Now what does that mean? We all have a way of conducting ourselves as we go through our day. We all have developed baggage, filters, and stories through which we see the world. Some of these are positive, and some sabotage us in unrecognized ways until we take a deep dive into our own reasons for doing what we do. Not everyone has the awareness to do this, or they are simply too egoidentified with their own story to let it go. I often use the analogy of envisioning our emotions like a radio dial: The negative stuff on the one end, like anger, upset, frustration, and maybe even grief. Then, there’s the opposing side and all the good feelings: joy, fun, playfulness, contentment, happiness, and passion. Now, we all have good and bad days, but there are people (we all know them) who generally resonate somewhere on that continuum consistently. We feel them when they come in the room, and that can be good or bad. What’s interesting is that when we look at the clients who call us, the individuals (or family or business) generally report activity similar to where they are resonating on that continuum the most often. They seem to “receive” the equivalent of what they are offering. To investigate this further, I began to examine cultures around the world, specifically locations designated by National Geographic as “Blue Zones”, including travelling to some personally. These are extremely unique places that are considered the happiest places in the world: They have the longest living people, the most joyful people, and they live their best lives as a priority. Keep in mind, money is often not a factor. Some of these locations include Ikaria, Greece, Okinawa, Japan, Loma Linda, California, and more. They place a heavy value on joy, family, interconnectedness, and remaining at one with the nature around them. They have what journalist, Dan Buettner, called “The Power 9”, which are factors that seemed to lead to people’s overall happiness. Now, what struck me about the places like Okinawa, Japan, was that their view and perception of the paranormal varied greatly from the west. They do not have a horror-driven view of spirituality, and they balked at the idea of an American military base creating a local “scary haunted house”. They couldn’t understand the reasoning behind it and barely anyone showed up to experience it. In turn, the cases in these locations do not seem to suffer the same violence as cases where the paranormal is built to be something frightening, and where the people are under untreated daily pain and stress.
“Make no mistake: If you have an unhealed wound, you are bleeding.” 08
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Make no mistake: If you have an unhealed wound, you are bleeding. How it shows up for you, may greatly vary. Some people bury it under anger, some bury it in substance abuse, or self-abuse. And sometimes, it seems to manifest as either attracting or creating an intelligence. Broken people attract broken, and, on the flip side, joyful people attract more joy – look at your own circle. What you are
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“Our job as investigators and researchers is to be the compass, not the solution.”
creating depends on how willing you are to seek joy. Be careful how committed you are to that journey before you say, “Of course I am!” When you pour love on something, it is like a glass with dirt in it: All the sediment rises to the surface. Now, if we look at the Philip experiment, something that must be acknowledged is the factor that flipped this experiment from a flop to a success: Actively creating joy. All the members concluded that, not only was this a fascinating thing to take part in, they walked away feeling fulfilled, happy, and bonded to one another after every session. They created their own culture, with happiness and the main goal, and the activity reflected the playful and fun intention. With that noted: it is often the people in little emotional resistance and negativity that seem to experience the encounters of loved ones and other happy moments with paranormal phenomenon. Many studies have gone on to show that most of these encounters happen during moments where people are letting their mind wander in mundane tasks and low stress. Did the Canadian researchers create a consciousness from their own intention? Surely not all paranormal clients set out to create an intelligence that is out to create happy or horrible experiences in their lives? Of course not. But it must be recognized that what we project, we bring towards us, and it is nowhere more apparent than with psychic phenomenon. The implications of whether consciousness
is emergent or fundamental brings us back to what parapsychology considers “The Hard Problem”, and that becomes a different discussion altogether. No matter what side of the argument you take, the results are ultimately the same:
Europe, or different beliefs. Joy bridges them all. Ultimately, the methodology doesn’t matter, but seeing the spark of hope and excitement as the client begins to get a bead on their own passion again is irreplaceable.
We seem to draw to us that which best reflects us, sometimes with supernatural implications.
Our job as investigators and researchers is to be the compass, not the solution.
Recently, I spoke with a client who, despite being married to a wonderful husband and having a healthy young son, was dealing with a highly aggressive “entity” that was physically violent towards her but seemed to have a moderate respect for her husband. It had attacked her on multiple occasions, wrecked the house, and was making her life a nightmare. Now, what was interesting about this case, and many others like it, was that the client in question had unhealed emotion wounds from a physically abusive spouse, from whom she escaped before she married her current man. As many cases like this one, the treatment of those bruised and battered holes in their heart, begins to change the client’s life experience... and the nasty aggressive phenomenon goes with it. Now, whether the client wants to clean that up and remain in victimhood is the ultimate question. Not everyone wants to be accountable for their pain. It is comfortable and, often, more familiar, than the unknown road of happiness. In conclusion, Entityseeker’s “Teaching the Living” has one goal: Joy. Now, that looks different for every client. My happiness may not look like their happiness. Someone from India may have different cultures and even rituals than someone from HAUN TED
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A great teacher will point the way, but they will never tell the student what to see. Otherwise, you rob the client of that self-discovery and the change won’t last. Only the individual can make that decision, and make no mistake, it is a decision. It is a commitment to the journey. That journey is not always a comfortable one, and it does not always consist of the beliefs we are hanging on to. The progression of psi research is everexpanding and, unfortunately, hampered by the eruption of many television shows that are not grounded in critical thinking. The expansiveness of the mind, whether emergent or fundamental, is growing in crucial importance as we move, as researchers, into the realm of quantum and the advancement of the paranormal field. My book: “Teaching the Living: From Heartbreak to Happiness in a Haunted Home”, available on entityseeker.ca and amazon.com
Website: www.entityseeker.ca Further reading: https://psi-encyclopedia.spr.ac.uk/articles/ philip-psychokinesis-experiments https://www.bluezones.com 09
Is Tatton Old Hall Britain’s Most Haunted House? Paranormal Investigator Danny Moss thinks so…
“DEAD”ICATION, “DEAD”ICATION, “DEAD”ICATION THAT’S WHAT YOU NEED… IF YOU WANT TO BE A RECORD BREAKER Just what is Britain’s Most Haunted House? There are claims by many a location over the last few years, truth is, we (Haunted Magazine), simply don’t know, is it one spirit causing a whole plethora of paranormal stuff and nonsense or is it a tribe of ghosts’ intent on playing spooky games with the location’s visitors or is it a mish-mash of the two. What constitutes an acclaim to be “the most haunted”? Is it the number of sightings, the level of communication / interaction with spirits? At the end of the day it could well be one of those questions that Norris McWhirter would’ve found difficulty in answering if he has been asked it on cult BBC1 children’s show Record Breakers. We know from our experiences at Haunted Antiques Paranormal Research Centre that if you take items that may be “haunted” from a different location, or an item that could well be “haunted” given what it is and where it has been, that there’s a good chance that they will interact with each other / affect each other and create more paranormal activity, potentially anyway. We spoke with Danny Moss from Haunted Hunts who believes that Tatton Old Hall may just be worthy of the accolade of “Britain’s Most Haunted House”.
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or years Tatton Old Hall has been known as one of the most haunted locations in Britain. You only need to look at the house to realise you’re walking into a truly unique location, a location with a dark history, a location that has had over 100 sightings during the past 5 years and a location that is now home to some of the most haunted items in the entire country! So, what is Tatton Old Hall? The house sits in the middle of a wood deep within Tatton Park in Knutsford, Cheshire. It has been there since the 15th Century and is believed to have been built by the powerful Stanley family. The great hall still holds many of its original features, it stood at the head of a large working estate now known as the disappeared village of Tatton. The remains of this village are just a few hundred yards away from the house and serve as a
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reminder of Tatton’s medieval past. Servants corridors and master’s chambers were eventually added to the great hall and Tatton Old Hall began to flourish during the 16th century but it would not last. The many lords who lived in house were often away fighting in wars and the house eventually began to deteriorate, during the Civil war the house fell victim to a nearby skirmish and was hit by a cannon ball which destroyed one of the walls. Tatton Old Hall eventually became a shadow of its former self and was later converted into cottages for game keepers during the Victorian era. The house was eventually turned into a museum and now serves as a haunted museum under the control of Danny Moss & The Haunted Hunts team, the grounds are sometimes used for educational purposes, but the house remains closed to the public for large portions of the year except for paranormal investigations.
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THE ORIGINAL HAUNTINGS OF TATTON OLD HALL The hauntings of Tatton Old Hall are legendary and have made the house famous for being one of the most haunted locations in the country. Tatton Old Hall is split into 3 unique sections with the great hall cellar, servant’s corridor and masters chamber being section number 1, the Victorian section number 2 and the 1950s section is number 3. All these sections are extremely active, the Victorian kitchen and bedroom being the most active section of the house. The great hall is an extremely eerie section of the house and standing in there in complete silence can be very useful as you can often hear footsteps, disembodied voices and other strange noises coming from the rest of the house. Poltergeist activity has been witnessed on many occasions in the great hall with things falling over by themselves and it is believed an old servant of the house is present in this area. Danny & his team captured an incredible EVP in the cellar back in 2016 whilst the entire house lay empty. A clear man’s voice comes through as says ‘be gone’ a second later the same voice comes through and says, ‘with haste’. The spinning room up on the
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servant’s corridor is home to one of Tatton Old Hall’s most famous ghosts known as ‘the matriarch’. She is often seen sat on a chair staring out of the window as if she is waiting for someone to return home to her, she has been seen on many occasions by many different people including grounds staff, members of the public and paranormal investigators. Danny & his team believe they have captured her voice and the EMF levels around the window area can be very high with no explanation. Numerous children are believed to haunt Tatton Old Hall and 2 of these are believed to be the children on Thomas Kingman, Tatton Old Hall’s most active spirit. Thomas and his family lived in the house from 1891 until 1901, Thomas was known as a violent drunk that often beat his wife and children. Arguments can be heard throughout the house on occasion and the strong smell of whiskey can sometimes be smelt in the Victorian section of the house. Severe poltergeist activity has been witnessed and captured on camera by Danny and his team in the Victorian bedroom and they believe they have also captured the voice of Thomas as an EVP. The 1950s section of the house is also very active,
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“The great hall is an extremely eerie section of the house and standing in there in complete silence can be very useful as you can often hear footsteps, disembodied voices and other strange noises coming from the rest of the house.”
and this area is famous for its shadow figures and strange noises, it is unknown who haunts this section of the house or could it be Thomas wandering the corridors? It’s not just the house that has witnessed paranormal activity though, the famous cruck barn in the grounds is also very active. It is believed that the spirits of 2 men haunt the grounds and cruck barn, one is believed to be a soldier from the Civil war and has been seen manifesting in the grounds by many different people.
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TATTON OLD HALL (NOW) When Danny and The Haunted Hunts team gained exclusive rights to Tatton Old Hall in 2018 their goal was to use the house for a huge experiment, an experiment that has now turned Tatton Old Hall into the most haunted house in the entire country! After what happened with the Grace Doll back in April 2018, Danny had his entire belief system changed...
so far on both the SB7 Spirit Box and the brand new SBox. During an emergency investigation of the Grace Doll Danny asks, ‘where did you come from?’ A woman’s voice comes through and says ‘Ruthin’. When the doll was moved to Tatton Old Hall the same woman’s voice came through and said ‘evil’ when asked ‘what are you?’ The same woman’s voice has also been captured saying ‘I don’t want to’ when asked ‘tell me your name?’ The most incredible response came through when asked ‘where are you?’ The exact same voice came through a third time and said ‘Tatton’. The voice has been captured 3 more times during the grand opening investigation of Tatton Old Hall and again was captured on camera saying, ‘curse you’, ‘hang them’ and ‘release me’. The Grace Doll now sits in Tatton Old Hall in its
‘I was never a believer in haunted dolls or haunted items and those who know me understand how sceptical I am over certain things in the paranormal but what happened with the Grace Doll has completely blown my mind! Many people claim to have haunted dolls and haunted items but offer zero proof behind their claims. I’ve actually got evidence captured on camera to back up my claims that I now own the most haunted item in Britain!’ The Grace Doll is believed to have the attachment of a witch
protective box. Danny then purchased some of the most haunted items in the country and moved them all into Tatton Old Hall as an experiment to see if these haunted items had an effect on an already haunted location. What happened was simply incredible.... ‘The day I moved the haunted collection into the house was one of the most amazing and terrifying experiences I’ve ever had as an investigator. I was unsure what affect it would have on the house but within an hour of moving the collection inside the house erupted. The atmosphere turned horrible, I could hear noises throughout the house and I even saw a full body apparition in the 1950s section. I immediately set up cameras and decided to conduct EVP sessions and Spirit Box sessions and what I captured was seriously amazing!’ Don’t just take Danny’s word for it, take a look at the video online and see exactly what happened that day here (type this into your computer) https://youtu.be/ HKR-bPK5nAM
gained from Nantclwyd Y Dre in Ruthin, North Wales. During an investigation of the location the Grace Doll was pushed off a chair by itself and ever since it has provided some of the most impressive paranormal activity ever witnessed by Danny & his team. It has moved by itself on numerous occasions, a woman screaming has been heard coming from the doll which is known as DVP (direct voice phenomenon) the EMF levels around the doll are huge but it is the intelligent responses heard coming from doll in that are the most impressive. 7 responses have been captured
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Here is a list of the haunted collection now housed at Tatton Old Hall.
BOB THE CLOWN BOY - Found in a
THE WINNATS DOLLS - Found at the
Winnats murder house in Derbyshire, a man and woman were murdered near the house and later found in the house’s basement, they were murdered around 1750. In 1972 these two dolls began to attract strange activity around them. They were left in the house and recently found in an old storage room. They were the focus of a paranormal investigation on the 3rd floor of the location that deals with haunted items and were found to have severe paranormal activity around them including EVP’s, K2 spikes and the hat on the blue doll was even knocked off by itself.
house that dates back to 1853. The owners moved in in 2004 and found ‘Bob’ in the attic. Their son took a huge interest in Bob but after a few weeks the legs started to begin swinging side to side on their own. Eventually, after weeks of telling his parents this and being grounded for ‘lying’. The mother witnessed this occurrence and immediately had the doll removed and given to specialists in the paranormal field. The legs are known to still swing side to side.
THE CHEST
- Dates back to the early 1800s. Found in a basement by a family who experienced extreme bad luck until having the chest removed from house. After removing the chest from the house, all bad luck stopped, strange light anomalies were caught on CCTV around the chest at this special location. Since receiving the chest our lead investigator Danny has experienced extremely bad luck. There are strange markings on the front that are unknown to everyone we have spoken to. Is this chest truly cursed?
THE MASK - Used by the Lamba tribe in
Southern Africa. This mask was part of a large variety of ritual items used by many tribes over the years. We have no date for this mask and are unaware of the exact rituals it was used in. African ritual masks are said to hold the spiritual attachment of those who once wore them. Can also be related to demonic entities and this was the most secured item found in the location, surrounded by huge sage necklaces and white candles. The owners warned that this mask has serious ‘problems’ attached to it.
See for yourself what happened during the Tatton Old Hall grand opening https://youtu.be/JgOwQGL7uyA
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HAUNTED NOTTINGHAMshire
The Innocence of Guilt…
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’ve been sat in this cell now for what feels like a lifetime. I couldn’t think of a worse place than this, it’s hell – only colder. The floor feels like ice, it’s damp and uneven, the smell of urine is overpowering, and it burns to the touch, but some may think that I deserve this… In my short time here I’ve witnessed true horrors, many that I can’t shake from my mind. Two other cell mates that I share what I now call home with, never woke from their sleep. I don’t know whether it was the bitter cold that took them, or whether they had just given up? Waking up to death is the strangest of ironies, but some may think that I deserve this…
They’re early, I can hear their footsteps thundering towards my cell like a train on its tracks. I can hear the keys and chain colliding, a key represents freedom, but that haunting sound has a different meaning for me. The key is turning in the lock as my heart pounds in my chest, I’m shaking, this time it’s not from the cold, but some may think that I deserve this… They don’t need to send this many guards, surely? I’m weak, I have no fight left. His grip on my arm is excessive, he keeps shoving me whilst laughing, he’s taunting me I know it. I can’t believe that I’m having to go through this, but some may think that I deserve this…
The guards here are ok if you have money, other than that I’d describe them as grotesque, inhumane and downright savage. You could say that they are doing their job, but instead of upholding the law, they have become the law, whilst dragging it to unimaginable depths, but some may think that I deserve this…
I look back at the Shire Hall as we leave, as much as I despised it, I really wish I was back in there now. As we make our way through the town, people stare, some even cheer. The guards’ smirk as we advance on. There are some bad people in this World I’ll agree, yet this seems too much, but some may think that I deserve this…
My days here are filled with hard labour, at times it’s back breaking, my fingers bleed daily with no way to stem the flow. The sores on my body make it uncomfortable to lay, so even at the point of exhaustion, the only option is to continue. I was bought up to believe that you will be rewarded for hard work, not here though, but some may think that I deserve this…
I can barely walk up the wooden steps, I see the rope is hanging, slowly swaying back and forth in the breeze. There must be a couple of hundred people here, they seem nervous but weirdly jovial, at my sentencing I never thought it’d come to this, but some may think that I deserve this…
The noise at night is soul wrenching, the screams from those that can’t take anymore seem to chip away at you, slowly destroying what little belief you may have left. There are others here that will again see the light of day, but many here aren’t that fortunate. I know what my fate is and it’s soon to arrive, but some may think that I deserve this…
And then I see her, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever set my eyes on. Till death us do part, and in my darkest hour she is here, “I love you” she mouths. She stands there surrounded yet all alone, as a tear falls from her eye, I also feel myself fall.In that moment, there were two people that knew differently to some, we knew that I didn’t deserve this… HAUN TED
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I’ve often wondered what it would have been like to have been imprisoned in the Old Shire Hall (National Justice Museum) Its devilish appearance combined with its haunting past certainly gets the mind racing. The previous page is my own account of what it may have been like. It’s dedicated to those innocent victims of Capital Punishment. As our social stance changes over time, the consensus seems to have shifted away from this form of punishment. It’s a hard subject to address, imagine a loved one being taken away from you in the most brutal of ways, the hate and feelings of revenge that grow must be unbearable. But, now put yourself in the shoes of an innocent person, facing the death penalty due to someone else’s incompetence. You suffer, your family suffer untold torment, and no one gains anything from it, yet all is lost. Modern DNA techniques and science mean that false accusation and guilt are very rarely wrong. The eliminate all but a very small amount of doubt, yet if there is even a slither of that doubt present, then that’s still too much for my liking. An example of this that I’ll now share, haunts me to my core. It’s the story of a man named Timothy Evans of 10 Rillington Place, Notting Hill. The man in question was found guilty of killing his infant daughter. His wife was also killed at the same time, yet due to certain aspects of the case, he was only tried in the murder of his own daughter. In March 1950, he was put on trial and subsequently found guilty of his accused crime. His punishment – death by hanging.
TIMOTHY EVANS
Now Mr Evans wasn’t perfect, this was a man who liked a drink, witnesses said that he and his wife regularly argued which sometimes may have turned physical. Mr Evans also suffered socially, he was illiterate to a degree, needing help in reading long documents and troubled when writing. What makes this case even more difficult is that Mr Evans confessed to the murders. This was his downfall, yet later inquiries state that the language in the statements from the defendant were far too advanced to have been written by himself. In fact, it was said that the language used would match extremely close to a serving Police Officer at that time. It’s also noted that Mr Evans was fearful of extreme violence from the Officers if they didn’t hear what they wanted to hear – this is all too distressing to hear. Unfortunately, Mr Evans had faced the trauma of losing both his wife and his 13-month-old daughter, then he faced his own death as a result. The pain and agony that he must have felt would have been something that none of us could ever imagine. So why is this story being told? How does it relate to the experiences above?
JOHN CHRISTIE
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Three years after Mr Evans was executed, a tenant that lived at the same address of the Evans family, a Mr John Reginald Halliday Christie, was found guilty of the deaths of at least 8 people. He was now a convicted serial killer. Christie went on to confess that he had killed Mr Evan’s wife, although denied killing his daughter. New evidence came to light, and after a 16-year battle by Mr Evan’s family, Mr Christie was found guilty of killing both Mr Evan’s wife, and his infant daughter. 16 years later Mr Evans was granted a posthumous pardon, and his soul could now rest…
James
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For many a ghost hunter / paranormal investigator Auschwitz is on their bucket list of places to visit, not necessarily to go ghost hunting or try to communicate with spirits / ghosts but just to get a sense of what happened there, see and smell the history for themselves. History plays an important part in the paranormal, there’d be no future if there was no past and places like this, such as this always serve up just cause to remind us that it’s not the dead, the spirits, the ghosts that are the monsters...
THE PARANORMAL BUCKET LIST
Auschwitz
The Para-Urbex Girl: Katie Waller
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nown today as the Auschwitz Memorial/ Muzeum these former two concentration camps were last year visited by over two million people, and I was one of them. This infamous place has always been one of the locations I wanted to visit. It was almost like a pilgrimage to me and with obvious respect, I did not take any of my paranormal equipment. Here, I relied only upon my physical feelings and of course my trusty Nikon (Nicky.)
organisation under Hitler and the Nazi Party) made the decision to form a concentration camp using a former military site close to the town Oświęcim, Poland. By May of the same year prisoners begun to arrive at the Auschwitz camp. Later, the Birkenau camp was also constructed.
It’s important here to mention Monowitz, also known as Auschwitz 3. A third camp built also near by the town of Oświęcim. These days, not many know about Monowitz, as this one was mainly used for The story Auchswitz and labour; it was in fact, a factory. Birkenau were sadly just one Prisoners were effectively forced piece of the Holocaust puzzle to manufacture oil, rubber and as there were in fact, a total chemicals from around October of 48 concentration camps. of 1942. Such chemicals included Fuelled by Nazi ideology they Zyklon B which was used for the were a result of a long-term gassings at the other 2 camps. plan. This aimed to eradicate The majority of people who lost communities such as the Jewish, their lives at Monowitz were due communists, homosexuals to the effects of slave labour and and the mentally or physically starvation. disabled. The idea there was a The journey to the Oświęcim took superior race of people; a pure around one and a half hours Aryan race. Originating from from Kraków by bus. Nestled a historical theory; Germanic people comprised of the 5 races deep within the south western of Europe and thought therefore rural Polish countryside, the the most superior, physically and trip was ominous. I didn’t really psychologically. In January 1940 know how I felt and anticipated the Schutzstaffel (SS-Protection my arrival. I can’t say I was HAUN TED
excited about this location, but I was looking forward to experiencing it. On the approach to the camp, anxiety hit me, and I was nervous. With adrenaline rushing through my veins I got my first glimpse of the main camp (Auschwitz 1.) Confusion hits me. Again, I’m finding it hard not knowing exactly what I’m feeling right now. I’m wondering what people felt on their approach back then? I’m following in their footsteps, yet I know of the sadistic horrors within. I did not yet know that many of these people literally had no idea. I’m prepared in a way, if you see what I mean? I won’t be living this for real like they would. I feel worse for those that knew what was coming to be honest. I can visualise hordes of new inmates arriving, clutching onto belongings and dressed in their best clothes. They were trying to create a good first impression. Some were completely unaware of what lay ahead, and others believed they were going somewhere good, potentially a better place. This was prior to them being stripped of their personal effects, shoes, clothes, money and jewellery. Families were
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separated; husbands from wives and children removed from their parents. Each inmate would be sorted and those deemed ‘useful’ would be given a uniform and treated like a group of animals; like a species. Back to today and my brain suddenly focuses on the present again. Remaining in the area are two camps, situated just a couple of miles apart. Auschwitz and Birkenau (Auschwitz 2.) Heart pounding my eyes locked onto a large horizontal convex entrance sign. This is of great historical significance. The words “ARBEIT MACHT FREI” cast in what appeared to be iron; a message. This German phrase translated to “work sets you free” and this was displayed at many concentration camps. Nowadays, much remains to be seen. The one I’m looking at is in fact a replica. The original stored at Auschwitz due to its theft and recovery back in 2009. Besides the origin, it’s ironic. Many inmates walked underneath this gateway day in and day out, forced to work in appalling and excruciating conditions. It may as well have said something along the lines “gateway to the next life.” 17
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Within the camp stood many identical blocks; one after the other, row upon row. Towering high each numbered just like the prisoners kept within them. From 1941 each human was branded, tattooed with a number as if cattle. Identification numbers were permanently etched on the arm, by hand using a needle. The number and sometimes symbols (stated which social community you belonged too) scratched in the skin deep. Ink from a well would then be rubbed into the open wound. This practise was only done here at Auschwitz and prior to this, ID numbers were sewn onto uniforms. On arrival each inmate would be logged and sorted, depending on what they could potentially be used for. Those deemed useless such as women, children, elderly and the disabled were dispatched immediately. Flash back to 2018 and the air here is thick, cold and overcast. The atmosphere is silent and tense which affect my senses and fogs my head as I explore every inch of the place. The perimeter surrounded the camp by a double barbed wire fence which was electrified back then. A wide walkway separated each fence and outside large watch towers every few meters around the edge of the establishment. Nothing got missed around here, for sure. Prisoners attempting to escape or aiding others to do so were almost guaranteed to be returned; and very quickly indeed. On retrieval if not murdered on the spot they would be tortured as would their families whether within the camp or those lucky enough to be in the outside world. Known for gassings, Auschwitz also exterminated inmates in many other ways. Hundreds of thousands were put to death by lethal injection hanging or shooting. Prisoners also endured chilling medical experiments at the hand of the Auschwitz pharmacists and physicians. Victor
Capesius was known as “The Druggist” (KZ-Apotherher.) Based at Auschwitz he worked alongside the notorious Josef Mengele, also known as “The Angel of Death.” Together they were responsible for sorting and selecting those for the chambers. They were also in control of the poisonous chemicals used within them such as Zyklon B (Hydrogen Cyanide) and Phenol. Estimates of around one million individual people were killed using this method alone, once the process was perfected. One physician by the name of Johann Kremer oversaw these killings. His documents stated that he could hear the screams and shouts from within. It was clear they were fighting for their lives inside as it took on average around 20 minutes to kill. Medical experiments were a big thing here at Auschwitz. Only some examples included that of the effects of starvation, freezing and head injuries. The genetics of twins, effects of poisons, altitude and fertility were explored thoroughly. Inmates also were exposed to incendiary bombs and victims were often left disabled or extremely sick. If not killed in the process of experimentation they would be executed once they were finished with. Walking around here is shocking, heart-breaking and extremely emotional. The educational displays certainly do not hold back on what happened here. The honest and brutal truth is difficult to understand considering how these events occurred in very recent history. Immersed and captivated, I’m taking in so much both sensory and emotional. Everyone has heard of this place and you know it’s bad, you expect it. Nothing however; I mean nothing, prepares you for this and now I feel naive. Humans are simply the worst creatures on this Earth. Those used for labour were crucial in the eyes of the SS to expand the camp. Sickening really; that those inmates HAUN TED
physically improved it and so cruelly made the process of mass murder better, easier and more productive. This sadly included helping to do the deed itself and clearing up afterwards. Walking around the camp as a free woman, listening to the dirt move beneath my feet, I rather feel like I’m walking on eggshells. I stumble across the collective gallows. Nearby the kitchen and across from the roll call square, every morning prisoners were required to present themselves to be accounted for. It is, at this point many inmates were hung in groups at the gallows. A very clear example to everyone else to keep order and stay in line. The gallows took prime position in the square for everyone to see and respect in a way, I suppose. It’s autumn and brown, crispy leaves are littered all over and surrounded every tree. The air is dense, oppressive and difficult to breathe in and I feel suffocated. I continue to wind in, out and between each of the buildings until I approach the courtyard of block 11. At the back of the yard, a wall covered in unexpected, beautiful bursts of colour. Flowers and tributes are all over the wall and surrounding floor space. The surprise as if a glimmer of hope and with respect a middle finger to the darkness of this draining place. I open my well written guidebook to discover that this is the location of the shooting wall. Here inmates would be lined up to face gunfire. Above the wall a very large blue and white striped flag which was trying to ripple in the lack of breeze. The flag was a symbol. A representation of the uniforms prisoners were forced to wear and simultaneously the same colours of the Jewish flag. Many of the blocks are not open to visitors but some are kept as they functioned and others like mini museums. Blocks 6 and 7 presented original artefacts based around the life of inmates and sanitary conditions. In here, MAGA Z I NE
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personal belongings such as shoes, spectacles and human hair are on display. Everyday objects from camp life including eating implements, uniforms and even empty tins of Zyklon B are visible. The Bunker. Close to the exit of the main Auschwitz camp stood this different type of building. It appeared as described, similar to that of an air raid shelter; a place of refuge, right? It was half buried and half out of the ground. The entrance was protected by a very large, thick lead lined door with a single peep hole at adult height. The moment my leading foot crossed over the threshold I felt sickness deep within my stomach, almost throwing up immediately. Directly inside the door, a small foyer type area, succeeded by a large rectangular room. Inside, a couple of dimly lit light bulbs suspended from the ceiling alongside a few of air vents. Realisation hit me like a ton of bricks. This was no bunker, it was a gas chamber. The vents were actually the means of administering deadly Zyklon B. Thrown into those below, most of them had no idea they were minutes from death. That explains the lead door then. Set up like a fake shower room, victims were told they needed to bathe and sanitize therefore not expecting what was about to happen. This made it easy for SS officers, having no resistance to deal with. Through a door on the left was another room; and in there the ceiling was black as were the majority of the walls. Covered in thick ash and remains the result of burning thousands upon thousands of corpses. In the room were two incinerators which were purpose built. This was designed to efficiently destroy bodies as well as the evidence. The sickness was now overwhelming and at this point I had to remove myself from the area. Even the toughest of people would find this uncomfortable. 19
Right now, a memory popped into my head from when I was around fourteen. During school my class took a trip to Flanders and there we visited something known as “The Killing Post.” I have since tried to research this, but please forgive me as I can’t name the location or find it for definite. As soon as I approached the post and stood right in front of it, I completely blacked out and fell to the ground. I was gone for minuets apparently and then woken up by my worried looking teachers. I was absolutely fine again. I don’t remember feeling unwell or even over emotional by what we were learning about. Literally no warning signs, nada. I just cannot explain it.
Birkenau (Auschwitz 2) Larger than the main camp in Oświęcim and the largest of all, stands this huge complex. After completion in March 1942, it opened and around 90% of deaths occurred here across the three camps. Famous by its terrifying main gateway 20
and purpose-built train track which straight down to the chambers. People were pretty much dropped off the train and walked right on in to be murdered here. Not even enough time to take in any fresh air after sometimes days on the train. Clothes and belongings were not even removed until after death. Easier, I guess for those running this well-oiled machine. The place was becoming a professionally run production line designed to exterminate as many people as possible. It is vast and goes on as far as the eye can see. Inmates were yet again surrounded by barbed wire and even bigger watch towers which were strategically placed around and within the camp. As I walk around, I feel very insignificant and my brain pans out making me visualise a bird’s eye view like a model village. Village is not the word I know, but you catch my drift. The sheer scale is disturbing, and you can tell this was designed ‘better’ then the HAUN TED
smaller camp. It could hold huge numbers of prisoners and more efficient gas chambers and crematoria. The functions of this camp were for mass murder, sorting inmates and for holding prisoners of war. The latter stayed here to maintain and expand Birkenau. As I’m following the train track there is an unexpected break in sky revealing the glorious amber and auburn shades of an early evening sunset. I’m good at visualisation and putting myself in a place or moment in time from past to present. For a minute my body embraces a moment to think and take this all in. The sun light pierced into my pupils and broke my state of daze and suddenly, I’m back in the room; or camp in this case. Here, if you stood still and looked up to the sky just for a minute, you wouldn’t know where you were. Buildings where erected quickly, thus being much smaller and shorter as this camp was able to expand outwards. Unimaginable
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numbers shared each block with sometimes four people in one bed. Conditions were disgusting and indescribable with many people dying of disease. Some prisoners purposefully angered officers, knowing they would be murdered. Sadly, that would usually result in a quicker, less painful death. I wonder if many prisoners were able to take a rare second to just look up at the sky just as I did. Did they pretend they were not a part of this atrocity, praying to whatever god they believed in? I wonder how many lost their faith and beliefs as well as how many took their own lives. How many did a friend a ‘favour’ helping them depart this world of their own free choice and will. There is no positive energy here; in fact, there is a lack of energy altogether. This place is completely different to anything I have experienced before paranormally speaking. My mind’s eye, I can see people; like an army of corpses, slowly wondering, lost.
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Trapped here similar to that of what the movies portray zombies to be. I guess in way, zombies are meandering, fumbling bodies with the soul of its owner gone forever. For a paranormal investigator; spirits, ghosts or however you describe it, are souls without the body. Does this mean that at the point of death there was no soul left? We could discuss why some people cross over and some don’t. I always ask questions such as “Do you choose to be here?” or “are you stuck here?” during investigations. To both questions I have received both yes and no answers and for different reasons at different locations. Anyway, let’s recap here. I’m trying to understand the lack of energy in conjunction with the horrendous dark atmosphere. The state of the atmosphere could be residual although the flora and fauna of the location is odd. It’s deadly quite with no bird song and no whisper of a breeze. It’s like there is an unseen barrier, bubble even, protecting its contents inside similar to that of a glass dome. It’s like an unseen warning sign like those surrounding extremely dangerous areas such as Chernobyl. Is the atmosphere created by those victims that died here or those that run the operation? Are there officers here still trying to hide secrets? I can’t work it out. The lack of spirit energy also returns to the question of choice or being unable to leave a place after death. Those ‘zombie’ prisoners with their souls forced out of them, already gone due to the trauma they endured. This thought redirects my mind to the gas chambers. Those unexpectedly killed, with souls and personalities still remaining at the time of death. Perhaps they just choose
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not to stay here. Why would you? If it was me, I would go looking for family or somewhere nice like home, right? Either way, remember, I have no paranormal equipment with me and I’m relying on my body and my camera alone. At no point do I pick up anything out of the ordinary on Nicky throughout the entire explore. In January 1945 Auschwitz was liberated by the Soviet Red Army after their success liberating other German occupancies. The camp was abandoned, and the SS attempted to destroy as much evidence as they could and prisoners who were left behind were freed. During the timeline of operation around 74,000 Polish, 15,000 Soviets, 21,000 Roma Gypsies and around 1,000,000 Jewish people were murdered at the Auschwitz camps. In May 1945 the majority of German forces surrendered as only weeks previous Adolf Hitler took his own life as Berlin fell to the Soviets. From 1933 to 1945 an estimate total of around 15 million individuals were killed. Unfortunately, today you can feel it in the air, like a smothering blanket that shrouds the area, not allowing air in to breathe. It is however, an extremely important place that I encourage everyone to visit. It educates communities from all over the world and in turn, promotes peace, equality and freedom. Humans are for sure the most dangerous creatures on the planet. It’s important that we take care of it, each other, as simply everything and everyone will ultimately self-destruct.
Katie x
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NOT SO 'ORRIBLE HISTORIES
“Here comes the Cavalry (or does it?)” BY PENNY GRIFFITHS-MORGAN
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nyone who has listened to my Haunted History podcast on Parasearch Radio will no doubt know that I am a big fan – some may say obsessively so – of things that have happened in our past. Whilst many may think of history and equate it with tedious lessons at school where you had to recite the Kings and Queens of England in chronological order, or explain why the Stone (insert Iron, Bronze or whatever you wish to here) Age was known as such. I prefer to look at it as a guide to not only what has been previously, but what lessons we should be learning. If you
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think about it, as soon as something has happened, it becomes history, so surely it can be interesting? Still not convinced? OK, I shall talk about a specific period that I find absolutely fascinating for a multitude of reasons, World War 1, also known as The Great War. It is not surprising given the brevity of death and destruction during those 4 years from August 1914 to November 1918 that an
element of the supernatural was to raise its head. The most famous of these events is probably what is called the Angels of Mons which were supposedly documented in late August 1914, shortly after the British had entered the field of battle. I am not going to look at this particular legend in this article as there are a multitude of entries regarding both it and it’s debunking on the internet that you can read. The story that I want to examine more closely is that of the Ghost Cavalry or what is sometimes known as the White Cavalry which happened at the other end of the war, it is believed in or around April1918. This particular tale focuses around an engagement known as the Battle of Bethune which took place on 18th April 1918 and was part of a bigger offensive known as the
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“The story that I want to examine more closely is that of the Ghost Cavalry or what is sometimes known as the White Cavalry which happened at the other end of the war, it is believed in or around April 1918.“ Battle of the Lys in the Flanders area. The only eye witness account was left to us by one Captain Cecil Wightwick (also known as Captain Cecil Wightwick Haywood but more of that shortly) and he was in charge of Intelligence in the area. A letter he wrote as a first hand observer was published some time after the war and explained the events in great detail. In this letter he talks of the Portuguese forces who had come to relieve the British Tommies fighting in the trenches, but he worried that it was possibly too little too late and that they would not be able to hold the German enemy at bay. His concerns were justified when the opposing force managed to blast a hole in their defences and they were close to being hemmed in and with no escape possible. What was strange however was that soldiers began reporting that the Germans had stopped directing their tirade of fire against the British trenches and were frenetically bombarding the woods
where there was no one. Shortly after, they saw “fritz” (their words, I promise) surrendering. I think it is best to read the actual transcribed conversation from Wightwick’s letter (see left) The similarity to the Angels of Mons is astounding, as is the fact that many deemed this as an ecclesiastical miracle on the side of the British. In a situation like this, men are hungry, exhausted, terrified and probably clinging onto anything they can to stay sane, would it be surprising that they could encounter some kind of mass hallucination? - Although the cavalry was never seen by either the British or the Portuguese – why if it was divine intervention, why were the British deemed worthier? The writer R Dewitt
Miller did make note of this event in his 1947 book, Forgotten Mysteries, and accompanied it with many other wondrous sightings such as crucifix appearing in the sky before an invasion during World War 2, and British cavalry being escorted by calm white figures on horseback. Miller was not only a writer of forteana but also Science fiction, so could he have been embellishing accounts? Who knows? What I do know is that I have found the birth records of one Captain Cecil Wightwick Haywood who would have been 42 in 1918, which whilst above average age wise for a frontline serving officer, not unusual for a career soldier. Even more interesting, I have found military records for one Intelligence Corps Captain, Cecil I W Haywood who was awarded numerous service medals. Does this mean Captain Haywood really existed and that this account was genuinely told to him?
Penny is a mum of two, wife, Paranormal Investigator, historian and podcaster with Parasearch Radio and you can catch her show Haunted Histories every Wednesday. If that isn’t enough, she has also just finished her first book which is due out soon so can now add author to her repertoire. Having had an interest in both history and the unexplained since she was a young child, she now gets to embrace both of her passions on a daily basis.
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WHEN UKHAUNTED’S MIKI YORK WENT INTO THE WOODS, HE SURE HAD A BIG SURPRISE!
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ave you ever passed over a spirit? a child spirit even? Well I hadn’t until I came in contact with a 5-year-old boy called Tommy. This was a very emotional time and one I will never forget for the rest of my life. My local woods have always intrigued me, very dark and spooky, even in the day time. I enjoy walking my dog in there, and filming videos in there over the years. Short horror films, ghost box videos, and other paranormal videos. There had also been reports of a black panther sighting and I made a video trying to find evidence of it being there. One night over the summer, I took my new Jensen Ghost Box into the woods to make a little video, just trying out the box really. I spent about 30
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minutes in various parts of the woods. I was down near the stream that runs down one side of the woods. I was asking questions and trying to see what answers, if any, would come through the ghost box and if any were relevant to the questions I was asking. I asked if any spirits could tell me their name, and I had the word “TOMMY” come through, but no other names. I carried on asking questions and a few minutes later I got a reply “YOUNG KID, DIED” come through. This was so clear and possibly the best response on a spirit box I’ve captured in 10 years. I went home thinking it was a good little session and was going to see if a child had died in those woods. I didn’t think that my spiritual side was about to change forever. A week later, Andy from Team Spiritz Paranormal contacted me on Twitter, he started asking me questions about being in the woods and that he’d had a spirit called Tommy, contact him and he kept saying “tell Miki, tell Miki” HAUN TED
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that he needed to come forward and help Tommy. Andy told me that Tommy was nervous and standing away from me.
Now I had never met Andy before and had not spoken about my trip to the woods, to him or anyone on social media. He said to me that this spirit had said where I was and that he needed my help.
“I asked out for Tommy to see if he would come forward and if there was anything, he wanted to tell me? “Go get back” was the response on the ghost box”
He said he was a traditional looking lad, dressed a bit like ‘Oliver’ from Oliver Twist. He told Andy that he was climbing trees, he fell and banged his head, and that’s how he died. He described water, like a stream or running water. This blew my mind, as I had been near a stream when I got the “young kid, died” response.
Andy told me that Tommy was showing him an image of a man holding a gun at him on farmland before the war started in 1914. I tried to get some responses on the spirit box to confirm the farmland or any relevance to a gun. I asked out to Tommy if the land used to be farmland, and I got the response “yes”
Andy described to me the tree that Tommy had fallen from. As he was describing it to me, I had an idea which tree it might have been. He then sent me a picture that he had drawn from what Tommy had told him. I knew 100% which tree it was, and it was about 30 ft away from the stream that I was filming at.
“I had to go back into the woods, I needed to find out what was going on with Tommy and what he needed me to do to help him” Andy told me that he wanted to help me when I went back to the woods. He suggested talking to me and helping me via Twitter DM. I had never done this before and I’d never heard of anyone else doing this either. So, the day had come, I got my bag and camera gear ready and set off. It was only a 5-minute walk to the woods. On my way, I let Andy know that I was close by and for him to mentally prepare for what was about to happen. I had butterflies and felt nervous when entering the woods, which was weird because I visit these woods at least 3 times a week when walking my dog in there.
and then the connection would be stronger. I moved 30 ft down near the stream, from the tree he had supposedly fell to his death from. Instantly the responses were clearer, and Andy informed me Tommy was on his way. Andy was giving me questions to ask and answers to the questions that Tommy had already told him. I would then see if I would get them come through on the ghost box. Tommy’s earth friend, Will, has been back to these woods many times looking for Tommy. Will was there when Tommy fell and passed over. He had died from natural causes later in life but would still return as a boy spirit looking for his best friend. I started asking if Will was there and
I asked if Tommy had lost his life in the woods and a very clear answer of “5 years old” came through on the ghost box. I got goose bumps all over my body, was this Tommy telling me how old he was when he died in the woods? The age sounded about right from what Andy had told me about the timeframe when Tommy was alive. The next thing that I needed to do was to communicate with Will and get him to come forward and help Tommy pass over. The next few responses were amazing, “help me” and “we fell”. Then a message came through “been waiting for you” now this was crazy, these were clear messages that made sense with everything that Andy has told me. I asked out for Will to try and come forward again and I asked how old he was, “SEVEN” was the instant reply!
I found the tree that I thought was the one in the picture that Andy had sent me. I set up my camera etc and started calling out to the spirits and more importantly Tommy. Andy told me that Tommy was alive early 1900s and pre-world war 1 and that he wasn’t that old when he lost his life. I started communicating on my Jensen Ghost Box, but the responses weren’t that good. Andy told me that Tommy was with him and that I needed to head towards the stream
The tree as described by Andy Bavington
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Andy has told me on Twitter that he thought that there was a strong 2-year age gap between Tommy and Will, this blew my mind. Exactly what Andy had sent to me in a message.
When the light appeared to them, they had to go towards it, but only if they were both together. I kept telling them that they needed to go to the light, when they see the light, they need to go into it.
was going to cry. Being a parent myself
I was encouraged by Andy to see if the 2 boys were ready to move on and pass over into the light, I asked out and a reply of “I BELIEVE” came through. Andy was getting a message from Tommy that the farmer with the gun was originally accused of Tommy’s murder, because he accused him of stealing from him and people saw him pointing his gun at the young boy. Although thankfully it was found to be an accident and the farmer was released with no charge. The story just gets me emotional just thinking about it.
As I was saying this over and over, Andy sent me a message telling me that Tommy was ready and was saying thank you. What message did I receive on the ghost box next? Yep you guessed it “THANK YOU”.
over 100 years, waiting for someone to
I next got a reply saying “I’M GOING” just as Andy told me that the door was now open, the light was there ready, and they needed to go. But I needed a message from them to let me know they were ok and were about to head to the light.
what we had just done.
I asked out to Tommy if this story was in fact the truth and I got “EVERY DAY, YEAH” come through, clear as day. It was like Tommy and Will were standing next to me waiting to answer every question I had to ask. This is very rare in the paranormal field to have intelligent response after intelligent response, and definitely a first for me in the 10 years I have been investigating. Andy told me he was going to try and pass them over and asked me to see if they were both together and ready for their new journey, I suddenly had the hairs on my arms stand on end and “TOUCH YOU” came through on the ghost box. 28
At this point I was getting very emotional, I had goose bumps and my hairs were standing on end, this was totally out of my comfort zone when dealing with spirits, I’m used to communicating to spirits with gadgets and equipment and just 2-way conversation, not passing over a spirit to the light or to heaven if you believe in that.
and having 2 small boys asking for their help to be at peace, it really got to me. To think that Tommy had been there for help him, to hear his call for help. I’m just so happy that he tried to tell me his name and then went to Andy to get himself and me to work together. I felt so good about
A massive thank you to Andy for his help and showing me a side of the spirit world that I’d never really seen or dealt with before. That was it, we had done our job, we achieved what we had set out to do. This is one investigation that I will remember for the rest of my life. The full video is available on my YouTube channel here: youtu.be/FAx3hNOtyBM
I kept encouraging them to go through the door, go into the light, then I got a message on the ghost box, “WE’VE GONE” wow, I had goose bumps again.
YouTube: Miki York
Was this it? Had I just passed over 2 little boys into heaven, through the light? I didn’t know what to say or do, I felt like I
Facebook: Miki York
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Twitter: @TheRealMikiYork Instagram: TheRealMikiYork
Miki
WHO DO YOU THINK YOU ARE? Barrie John “I’m staking my claim on Newstead Abbey, as my second home”
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ost of you know me as Barrie John – Clairvoyant Medium, Ghost Hunter and Radio/ TV personality. But this is now going to change when you read about my roots and where I’ve ventured to learn more about my family, which interestingly enough has opened up some fascinating doorways around this country of ours and especially the home of Lord Byron the Poet, Newstead Abbey in Nottinghamshire.
Over the many years of events and ghost hunts, I often get the feeling that I’ve been somewhere before. The feeling that you’ve walked the path a hundred times even though you haven’t the photographic memory of being there. From being a child, I’ve had the privilege of living in a stunning and beautiful part of the county – North Nottinghamshire, the home of the wealthy estates and land owners going back in time such as Thoresby Hall, Clumber Park, Welbeck Abbey, Rufford Abbey, King Johns Palace and also ultimately Newstead Abbey. History and also the protection of historical locations has always been a huge passion of mine. Ensuring that our local and national heritage is preserved for future generations through fund raising and events. Through family traces, we’ve managed to get the family back to the 1300’s, as you can HAUN TED
imagine things have been unfolded that are phenomenal. On my mother’s side, there are links back to Ireland, Spain and the Northern limits of Scotland and connections to the family island of Stroma which is still owned by the family. The links then go on to the Originators of the Grants Whiskey Company and connections to the family setting up a bursary for students at Edinburgh University and also links to marrying into nobility and wealth. The family finally settled in Glasgow and thus eventually my mother came down to Nottinghamshire at the age of 15 and shortly after this she met my father. My father’s side was and are a great North Nottinghamshire family with connections to Germany and also further afield. Going back over many years of farming and mining with connections and to the battle of Waterloo.
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Over the years we always known about our connections to Newstead, but I have to say that even I was shocked when I finally started to look deeper in its nooks and crannies. My great grandfather (five times great grandfather to be precise) was Joe Murray (1737-1820), the senior man servant to the Abbey for some 70 years. Joe served the 5th Lord Byron – known as the wicked Lord. Joe originally was employed as the sailor boy at the age of 18, he would sail up and down the lake between the forts in the ‘toy’ gallons as the 5th Lord would fire cannons at the Gallons in mock battles, please note that this was with ammunition too! 29
“My great grandfather (five times great grandfather to be precise) was Joe Murray (1737-1820), the senior man servant to the Abbey for some 70 years.”
It’s well known that Joe was around when the 5th Lord sold off as much as he could from the abbey to pay off debts but also to leave nothing to his direct family. Joe obviously watched as the Abbey went from wealth to ruins due to the antics of the 5th Lord and then finally to the 5th Lords death, were Joe then went on to serve the 6th Lord Byron at the age of around 61.
Joe served the 6th Lord Byron – the poet. Byron looked upon Joe as a father figure and we can image him discussing the state of the abbey, it’s history and also trying to bring the home back into a liveable state, as well as Joe living through the ‘hectic’ life of Byron. The 30
6th Lord Byron had inherited a ruin, the Abbey was in an awful state and there were no funds available as at this time Byron was not the wealthy poet that we know today. Joe was the leader or head of the household of the Abbey for Byron, you can imagine him being the modernday butler and organising staff and duties. Joe would no doubt get Byron ready for his trips and long distance journey’s and he certainly did make a huge impression on Byron who had the portrait commissioned of him, which now hangs in the Abbey library in a prime location. Joe looms over the library, still showing that he oversees the place and watching over the possessions. There are writings and documents to suggest that Joe’s sturdy honest mastiff qualities won so upon Lord Byron as even to rival his Newfoundland dog in his affections. Often when dining, he would pour out a bumper of choice Madeira, and hand it to Joe as he stood behind his chair. When Bryon was in ownership of the Abbey, he wanted Joe buried in Boatswain’s Tomb at the Abbey along with himself HAUN TED
and the remains of his beloved Newfoundland who passed previously after being bitten by a rabid dog on a trip to Mansfield with the Post boy, which we understand was Boatswain’s regular journey. In fact, when he built the monumental tomb which stands in the Abbey garden, he intended it for himself, Joe Murray, and the dog. The two latter were to lie on each side of him. Boatswain died not long afterward, and was regularly interred, and the well-known epitaph inscribed on one side of the monument. Lord Byron departed for Greece; during his absence, a gentleman to whom Joe Murray was showing the tomb, observed, “Well, old boy, you will take your place here some twenty years hence.” Joe was said to have replied, “I don’t know that, sir, if I was sure his Lordship would come here, I should like it well enough, but I should not like to lie alone with the dog.” Joe Murray was always extremely neat in his dress, and attentive to his person, and made a most respectable appearance. A portrait of him still hangs in the Abbey, representing him a hale fresh-
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looking fellow, in a flaxen wig, a blue coat and buff waistcoat, with a pipe in his hand. He discharged all the duties of his station with great fidelity, unquestionable honesty, and much outward decorum. Joe served Byron until the Abbey was sold in 1818, when he went on to serve Colonel Thomas Wildman and his wife Louisa. When Colonel Wildman became proprietor of the Abbey, he found Joe Murray flourishing in a green old age, though upward of fourscore, and continued him in his station as butler. The old man was rejoiced at the extensive repairs that were immediately commenced and anticipated with pride the day when the Abbey should rise out of its ruins with renovated splendour, its gates be thronged with trains and equipages, and its halls once more echo to the sound of joyous hospitality. What chiefly, however, concerned Joe’s pride and ambition, was a plan of the Colonel’s to have the ancient refectory of the convent, a great vaulted room, supported by Gothic columns, converted into a servants’ hall. Here Joe looked forward to ruling the roast at the head of the servants’ table.
Time, however, was fast wearing away with him, and his great fear was that the hall would not be completed in his day. In his eagerness to hasten the repairs, he used to get up early in the morning, and ring up the workmen. Notwithstanding his great age, also, he would turn out half-dressed in cold weather to cut sticks for the fire. Colonel Wildman kindly remonstrated with him for thus risking his health, as others would do the work for him. “Lord, sir,” exclaimed the hale old fellow, “it’s my air-bath, I’m all the better for it.” Unluckily, as he was thus employed one morning a splinter flew up and wounded one of his eyes. An inflammation took place; he lost the sight of that eye, and subsequently of the other. Poor Joe gradually pined away and grew melancholy. Colonel Wildman kindly tried to cheer him up— “Come, come, old boy,” cried he, “be of good heart, you will yet take your place in the servants’ hall.” “Nay, nay, sir,” replied he, “I did hope once that I should live to see it—I looked forward to it with pride, I confess, but it is all over with me now—I shall soon go home!” He died shortly afterward, at the advanced age
and this succeeded and thus the next attempt was made to cut wood. We managed to have the James Murray Mews named after him on Toothill Lane, as a memory to his lasting name and his invention to the world.
of eighty plus years, seventy of which had been passed as an honest and faithful servant at the Abbey. Colonel Wildman had him decently interred in the church of Hucknall Torkard, near the vault of Lord Byron. There are records of Colonel Wildman writing to his good friend in late November 1820, Washington Irvine – the famous American author and stating “Bryon’s beloved servant died on 21st October 1820. I have organised the burial of Joe Murray to be interred in the Church next to the Byron Vault”. For Joe we know that this wasn’t just a job for him, he worked for the families and the Abbey for some 70 years prior to his passing, but also know that he had a family and that they must’ve lived on the Abbey estate. Joe was interred on the 28th October 1820 in St Marys Magdalene Church, Hucknall, and we assume next to the Bryon Vault inside the church, but records appear to show this being different. We know when the Byron vault was opened in 1938, that there are detailed records of their being another body in the tomb, of which it’s said to be Joe Murray. The plot thickens eh?
As I started working at Newstead Abbey in November 2018, it felt emotional for me to walk the boards and rooms, which once Joe had once walked. Instantly the Abbey felt like home to me and I felt welcomed by all those spirits who once called it home even in the undercroft. I know that Joe will no doubt watch over me, and also my ventures with his home ‘The Abbey” and that somewhere and somehow Joe will no doubt make himself known to me along with Byron and also Boatswain. Interestingly enough, Joe’s son – James Murray was the original inventor of the circular saw, he worked at a factory on Bath Lane in Mansfield. The original saw which is still around today, was six inches in diameter and the first attempt to use it was made upon cutting a turnip
No doubt my journey into the family and Newstead Abbey has only just begun, but the biggest venture for me is now to find the final resting place of Joe Murray and to visit him and pay my respects to him and to thank him for opening up the doorway for me work in such a fantastic location. Maybe if you see me at Newstead Abbey, you’ll see Joe standing not far behind me! Barrie J We will keep you up to date with Barrie’s ancestry story, Byron is a much loved, much misaligned character and Newstead Abbey is literally on the Haunted Magazine HQ doorstep and finding out that one of our good mates’ great, great, great (and the rest) Grandad was Byron’s manservant has kind of upped the ante where Newstead Abbey is concerned. Our love for the place just got that little bit sweeter.
“Instantly the Abbey felt like home to me and I felt welcomed by all those spirits who once called it home even in the undercroft.”
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Just how many paranormal cases have there been since the beginning of paranormal cases; a thousand, a hundred thousand, a million? Deep in the archives of ghost societies, paranormal investigators of old, I bet there’s loads of unexplained paranormal stuff and shizzle that none of us no none about. Here at Haunted Magazine we are fascinated by paranormal cases of old, and we don’t just mean Arfur’ Conan Doyle and his photogenic fairies, we mean the cases of the 1960s, 70s and 80s. Yes, some were brought to the fore by the press, most notable the Enfield Poltergeist, then some were in the press but then became the day afters chip paper, the words paranormal activity doused in vinegar and hidden behind a battered sausage.
THE TERRIFYING CASE OF BILL RAMSEY By Clare Burrows HERE WE HAVE A CASE, RATHER MORE UNUSUAL FROM MODERN DAY POSSESSIONS. THIS IS THE STORY OF AN ENGLISH GENTLEMAN THAT SUFFERED WITH MANIC EPISODES FROM CHILDHOOD THROUGH MUCH OF HIS ADULT LIFE. THE SOUTHEND WEREWOLF WAS ALSO ONE OF ED AND LORRAINE WARREN’S LESS NOTORIOUS OF CASES, HOWEVER IT HAS BEEN LARGELY RUMOURED THAT IT MAY BE THE BASIS OF THE CONJURING 3 MOVIE SEQUEL. William Ramsey was born and raised in a seaside town called Southend on Sea, in Essex. His first ever episode was recorded by his parents at the mere age of 9, where he allegedly stated he felt a cold chill wash over him, then a manic bout of shivering, growling, foul smell and rage burst out of him. His mother watched her 9-year-old son rip up a post from concrete and ransack it to pieces. This was one of many violent outbursts that were to continue and appear more aggressive in his adult life. It was reported that Ramsey had also attacked and bitten a nurse at the local hospital, unable to control these violent animalistic outbursts of this supernatural rage from within. It was July 22nd, 1987 which was to become one of Bill’s most violent attacks, his chest started to tighten, and he felt this uncontrollable rage sweeping over him. He took himself to the local police station in Southend on Sea just before midnight, pleading with the officers on duty to ‘lock him up’. He had committed no crime at this stage, however he then suddenly flew into a horrifying rage attacking the officers, growing like a rabid beast and forming his hands into claws and lashing out. Bill Ramsey had managed to significantly injure many of the officers with Duty Sargent Terry Fisher sustaining the most severe injuries. Bill Ramsey was 44 years of age and around 5ft 6 inches tall. Key eye witnesses reported seeing Ramsey lift the 6ft tall 14 stone Sargent with one hand, way off the ground and throw him to the floor, continuing then to kneel on top of him throttling him. From this moment on Bill Ramsey was given the Notorious name of ‘The Southend Werewolf’.
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What was to happen next was even more obscure and unexplainable. After watching a documentary, one of the officers that witnessed this horrific attack described Bill’s strength as ‘Unnatural’, it took 6 officers to detain Ramsey and put him in a cell. Whilst in the cell Bill continued his violence, growling and drooling like a rabid animal. Somehow, and this is where it becomes even more frightening, Bill had managed to get his arm, shoulder and head through what can be described as a slightly larger letter box size slot in the prison door, he was still lashing out uncontrollably with his hand formed into a claw, still growling, hissing and drooling. Something had taken over Bill in an unexplainable fashion, even someone with a very small head would be unable to fit through the slot in the door. It took two attempts to sedate him to the point of which the Fire brigade were able to release his head and arm from the door. The attack on the Sargent was so brutal, it resulted in him leaving the Police force after 20 years of service. Watching an interview with Ramsey to gain a clearer picture, he stated that he had no re-collection of the attack, it was a complete black out, it was only the eyewitnesses which were from incredibly worthy sources, such as policemen, firemen, doctors and ambulance workers which gave him the details of his frenzied attack. Bill Ramsey comes across on interview as an ordinary, honourable, hardworking English man, he was non-religious, and his persona comes across almost selfless in his mannerisms and behaviour.
He would continue to hand himself into the police station when he felt these episodes starting to rage within, purely to protect himself from harming others. Bill Ramsey was sent for medical tests and psychiatric tests after this violent frenzied attack on the police officers, all to which came back as negative. There was no evidence to support a Temporal lobe epilepsy, which many sceptics would argue, given the symptoms would be causing these violent outbursts. He was medically ‘fit’ and left with no answers which baffled the medical world. He was also cleared of anything psychological such as schizophrenia, which left Ramsey with no where to go, no answers, no hope and no way out.
Ramsey was a married man with children, a hard worker becoming increasingly worried about this ‘behaviour’ that overtook him with minimal warning. The media had become aware of this unusual case and of course, his name was splashed over every newspaper and media outlet branding him
‘THE SOUTHEND WEREWOLF’. It was this branding by the media, which was not only an embarrassment to Ramsey it was also riddled with fable that simply was not true, stigma that attached itself to the stories of what you would hear in a standard Werewolf tale. He simply did not change on the night of a full moon, nor did he grow extreme bodily wolf like hair, grow fangs, grow claws, or even ravage, bite or kill anybody. However, as much as the media portrayed Ramsey as this Beast from the depths of Hell, it was also to become his salvation. With the media so engulfed and obsessed with the tale of the Southend Werewolf, the famous Duo, Ed and Lorraine Warren had become accustomed to this unusual case. Lorraine Warren was adamant that Bill Ramsey had become possessed by a demonic entity, a Wolf Spirit, and urged that he be Exorcised by the Church over in Connecticut, USA. A British newspaper had offered $20,000 to Bill Ramsey for his story, and to pay for his travel over to America to join Ed and Lorraine Warren, and to be Exorcised by Bishop Robert Mckenna. The police reports stated that Ramsey was a danger to the public, however, after being placed in a psychiatric hospital, exploring all avenues of medical and psychological analysis, nothing was found that could explain the reason for Bill’s manic outbursts, and what was described by Doctors and the Police as ‘Superhuman’ strengths. Ramsey simply had no other avenue to go down other than the paranormal route, handed over to him by The Warren’s and the Newspaper funding his trip to America. Bishop Robert Mckenna was the priest at ‘The Lady of the Rosary Chapel’ over in Connecticut, whom had performed many Exorcisms previous, he was convinced that Ramsey was indeed possessed by a
Demonic Entity and agreed to perform the Exorcism. Ramsey was such a danger, that 6 bodyguards were placed around him at the Exorcism all armed with stun guns for the Bishops protection. On the day of the Exorcism, Ramsey was feeling apprehensive and nervous because it was such unknown territory for him and having no belief in Religion or Demonic entities made him significantly anxious. Bishop Robert Mckenna started the Exorcism, and soon into it, Lorraine Warren stated, that the muscles in the back of Ramsey’s neck started to tighten, as if the entity was coming in from behind him, his hands started to form into claws which a human would not be able to replicate, his jaw tightened, his ears started to point and elongate, and Ramsey began to howl. He was lashing out, sweating up, hissing, growling like a wolf and what would be described as simply possessed by a Demonic Wolf like Entity. The Exorcism was to become a success, as Ramsey came around, he felt a huge relief, as if something had been cast away from him since his first horrific episode when he was just 9 years old. He stated in interview, ‘he wanted to kiss the Priest’ he was overcome with such tranquillity and at peace for the first time in decades. After the Exorcism Bill Ramsey managed to settle back into a happy, peaceful and normal family life and never had an incident or recurrence of any episode of that nature since. This is such a rare and unusual case, I find it very interesting if not fascinating, that this case has not been explored much further. As we know by the medical and psychological avenues explored there was simply no explanation. There was no explanation by the police, firemen or even eyewitnesses. Was this a case of a form of epilepsy that was overlooked? Was this a case of some form of repressed memory or feeling that had become entrapped into the inner psyche? Was this just rage? or was this an actual Demonic Wolf Spirited real life Possession? We certainly can see by various images of Bill Ramsey that he has a stature, and a face that is a little bit wolf like if I may say so, however, does that go hand in hand with having supernatural strengths?
I URGE ANYONE TO WATCH THE DOCUMENTARIES AVAILABLE ONLINE, AND TO FORM YOUR OWN OPINIONS, I DO KNOW ONE THING THOUGH, YOU WON’T BE DISAPPOINTED…. HAUN TED
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ave you ever wished that you could visit another period in time? Maybe you’ve dreamt about travelling back to the past, or taking a leap forward to catch a glimpse of the future. Although time travel sounds like the perfect science fiction subject, according to some, there’s the possibility that it could one day be science fact. Einstein’s world-famous Theory of Special Relativity includes some particular equations that suggest that time travel may be achievable one day, although any current evidence remains purely theoretical, based on mathematics. Professor Stephen Hawking built on his predecessor’s thoughts further, citing how particle acceleration within black holes could cause dilation of time within them. But enough with the science behind it – let’s take a look at some real-life cases of people who claim to have mysteriously found themselves in a different time. Rather than being the preserve of new-age, fanciful types, these bizarre experiences have happened to academics, scientists and even, as one account will show, the founding father of Analytical Psychiatry, Dr. Carl Jung. Time-travel stories have been recorded all over Europe for many centuries, but without proof or descriptions, they remain just that – stories. They usually involve some weary traveller stopping to sleep and returning hundreds of years later, only to find his surroundings changed and family long gone. Luckily the accounts contained here aren’t quite so disturbing, with the longest ‘slip’ recorded as an overnight stay in a previous century. I’ll begin with one of the most famous, and also oldest accounts.
TIME TRAVELLING GHOSTS By Lucy Willgress
“It’s just a jump to the left... then a step to the right...”
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An Adventure at Versailles uring the August of 1901, Charlotte D Anne Moberly, the Principal of a hall of residence for young women at St. Hugh’s College, Oxford, took a trip to France with her assistant, Eleanor Jourdain.
On August 10th, the ladies visited Versailles and after touring the palace, decided to take a walk through the magnificent gardens to the Petit Trianon. After accidentally missing the turn for the main avenue, the pair found themselves on a small lane, which
led to a farmhouse with a plough outside. In their account, they describe feelings of heaviness and oppression overcoming them both and were soon after directed straight on along the path by ‘very dignified officials, dressed in long greyish-green coats with small three-cornered hats.’ Much like Alice down the rabbit hole, matters became more curious yet. Moberly described the atmosphere as becoming ‘suddenly…unnatural, therefore unpleasant; even the trees seemed to become flat and lifeless, like wood worked in tapestry. There were no effects of light and shade, and no wind stirred the trees.’ As we shall see in subsequent cases, this seems to be a common factor within time-slips.
The Road Trip Through Time
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n early October, 1979, two couples set off on a trip through France and down to Spain. It was to be a holiday they’d never forget. Geoff and Pauline Simpson, and their friends, Len and Cynthia Gisby had been stuck in the car for ten hours when they reached the small French town of Montelimar. As afternoon gave way to evening, all agreed to find somewhere to stay for the night. As they drove along a narrow, cobbled road, some old fashioned posters advertising a circus caught their eye. Eventually, they found themselves outside a quaint, two storey farmhouse with an ‘Hotel’ sign. Once inside, although the proprietor didn’t speak English, their requests were understood and were shown to their rooms after an evening meal. In their statements, they described their rooms as clean, but lacking any modern amenities. The plumbing was antique, there were only bolsters on the bed rather than pillows, no telephone and most surprising – wooden shutters were in place of the glass that most people would usually expect to find in the windows. It all seemed so out of place that they took pictures of the rooms and furnishings. Despite the basic nature of the rooms, the two couples slept well. Their story took an even stranger turn the following morning,
Gazing upon the visage of the last French Queen, she recognised the lady she’d seen sketching as Marie Antoinette. Many ridiculed their experience, but it’s well known from historical sources that Marie Antoinette did indeed enjoy dressing in ordinary clothes and spent much of her time at the Petit Trianon.
Jung and the Vanishing Mosaics
when they headed downstairs for breakfast. A woman who they assumed was another guest wore a long dress with button-boots, and as if this wasn’t strange enough, two gendarmes arrived wearing apparel that the friends had never seen before. They later identified the clothes as late 19th century. By now, the group were ready to leave, and asked one of the gendarmes for directions to the autoroute to Avignon. He didn’t understand the word, although they thought this may have been due to their poor pronunciation. Upon settling up, all were surprised that the bill only came to nineteen francs (around £2.00 today.) They continued on their way and thought no more about the old fashioned little hotel until the return trip. After trying to find it again, despite being on the same road, they were told that no such hotel existed. The only signs of any inhabitation were the roofless and derelict ruins of a former farmhouse, and next to it, what used to be a police station. Back in England, the four friends took their camera film to be developed, eager to see the pictures, if only just to prove that they had indeed stayed there. Unfortunately, those particular snaps no longer existed – they’d vanished from the roll of film.
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Now for the most interesting part. When Moberly and Jourdain reached their destination of the Petit Trianon, they came across a lady sketching on the grass outside the palace. Moberly described the lady as ‘wearing a light summer dress, on her head was a shady white hat, and she had lots of fair hair.’ It was only some time later upon their return to England that she happened to visit the National Gallery.
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ur next case happened to none other than Carl Jung during his travels through Italy in the 1930’s. During a stop in Ravenna, he and a companion went to visit the Mausoleum of Galla Placidia, a daughter of the Roman Emperor Theodosius I, who died in 450 AD. The building contains three sarcophagi – the central tomb is that of Galla herself. To her left lies her son Valentinian III and to her right, her husband, Emperor Honorius. Jung and his friend stayed for around thirty minutes, transfixed by the beauty and colour of the mosaics, mostly depicting maritime scenes in the most glorious hues of blue that he’d ever seen. Even as they discussed the artwork, both became aware of a strange atmosphere, as if time itself stood still. Upon leaving, the pair tried to buy postcards, so they could remember the beauty they’d seen inside, but none were available. Not one to be discouraged, Jung wrote to another friend, asking him to return to the mausoleum to take photographs to send on to him. However, when he received them, he was shocked to discover that the mosaics decorating the walls were nothing like the ones he had seen with his own eyes that day. Upon doing some research, he discovered that the originals had been destroyed by fire several hundred years before. With no other possible explanation, Jung said he believed that he’d momentarily travelled through time and witnessed the mausoleum as it had been when it was built, some 1400 years before. Some say that stone in particular may act as a conduit, holding visual memories which can be replayed in the right conditions. Many believe these same conditions can contribute to ‘recording’ type hauntings too, which leads us to the next account, which also involves a visit to a tomb. 2 2
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John Evelyn and the Three Mysterious Men of Wotton Hatch
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rina Bolton and her husband stopped in Wotton Hatch one day when they were out for a walk in the Surrey hills. As they left that day, they both felt inexplicably depressed, but neither mentioned it to the other for fear of spoiling the day out. Having visited the village church many times before, they were surprised to find the gate to the tomb of the seventeenth century writer and diarist, John Evelyn, open that day. Usually it remained locked. Glad of the opportunity to take a closer look at the tomb, both paid their respects before continuing on their way.
Exiting the churchyard, they turned onto a narrow, overgrown, single-file path which emerged some time later at a clearing backed by woodland. By this time, it was around midday, so they stopped at a backless bench to have some lunch.
that the couple decided to return the following weekend, only to discover that the landscape they’d walked and rested in no longer existed.
Irina describes that in an instant, all sounds stopped abruptly – there was no breeze, no birds sang – all apart from the distant echoes of a woodsman and a dog down in the valley. It was at this moment that they both were overcome by sudden, icy cold when moments before, it had been a hot summer day. Irina became aware of three men in the clearing behind her. It only occurred to her later that there was something strange about the trio. All wore black cloaks and wide-rimmed hats. She could clearly see that the fellow in the smaller rimmed hat was a clergyman, due to his white collar. On returning to London, they became so curious about the whole incident
Perplexed, they stopped a man coming out of the church and asked where the clearing and path was. They were told that nothing like that could be found in the area. When they asked about the little backless bench, unsurprisingly, there was no bench either. Upon reading an entry of Evelyn’s famous diary in 1696, Irina was convinced that their experience was somehow connected to visiting the diarist’s tomb. In one particular entry, Evelyn describes visiting the church in Wotton Hatch to pray upon the matter of ‘three gentlemen, one a priest, all to be executed for treason against the king’ which he felt most aggrieved by. Like the previous case, it seems that connecting with the tomb allowed the visitor a brief foray into the world and memories of the dead.
The Phantom Farmer ast but not least, the experience that I’m about to Lrecount happened to my father sometime in late summer, during the 1990’s.
John Stravers, from Great Yarmouth, had gone out to indulge in his new hobby with his metal detector near St. Benets Abbey. The afternoon was drawing in over the Norfolk marshlands when he stopped to eat his sandwich. Sitting on a bank next to the drainage ditch, he could see the mill tower of the abbey directly ahead with a clear view of the surrounding flatlands, stretching out for miles. Although he hadn’t heard anyone approach, he looked up from his food when a voice asked, ‘What are you doing?’ Surprised, but glad of some company, he explained to the gentleman standing next to
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him that he was using his metal detector. ‘Oh? What’s that?’ asked the old man. John duly explained that it made a noise if it sensed metal objects under the earth. Scratching his bushy moustache, the gent seemed impressed by ‘what they can invent these days,’ and went on to tell my father about a brand-new plough that he’d just bought. He said it was so big that it needed four horses to pull it, so he’d had to go and buy two more horses just to work the thing. At this point, John asked ‘Don’t you have a tractor then?’ To his astonishment, the old man didn’t know what tractors were. He then announced that he’d better finish up his walk and head home, as his wife would be cooking supper, and continued on his way.
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By now, John began to think about everything the old man had said. It was only then that it occurred to him that he didn’t usually see anyone dressed in such an old-fashioned way – he wore a tweedy jacket, a flat cap and ‘plus-fours’ (three-quarter length tweed or woollen trousers not often seen today.) Realising that he’d witnessed something out of the ordinary, he shot up to see where the man had gone. The fields all around were empty. To this day, John swears he briefly slipped back in time. Should you ever find yourself experiencing a strange atmosphere, as if time is standing still, with people or surroundings somehow out of place, don’t forget to whip out your phone and take a picture! That’s if you can get it to work, of course.
Lucy x
To the naked eye, it seems like a normal suburban house in the heart of Leicestershire but for the owner Gaynor, it’s a house that has brought absolute terror into her life for the last 38 years.
Gaynor moved to the property on the 28th of April 1980. Upon arrival at the location, I sat down with her to have a chat as I wanted to know a little more about the activity in her home and I was fascinated to find out why she’d chosen to stay in this property after all the activity she has been receiving over the years. The strange occurrences began on the day she moved in. She had a dog at the time and went on to explain that as soon as they’d stepped foot into the home the animal began to act very strangely, he would move to a certain corner in the house and stare at the wall whilst violently growling as if he could see something that she could not. Gaynor could even remember thinking at the time that there was a ‘strange’ presence, she had tried to move the dog away from the wall and stated aloud that she was new to the property and was just trying to move in and make a home for herself and her family. As she’d said that, it was as if the atmosphere had changed. ‘It just sort of went away, and the dog went quiet’ Gaynor explains. But this wasn’t the end, in fact, it was very far from it....
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Gaynor and her partner were subjected to harrowing abuse at the hands of this spirit. She went on to explain that the atmosphere changed in the house, everything suddenly felt dark, oppressive even. She began to have larger objects being thrown with intent to cause harm, bookshelves would fall over and smash to the ground and fires would break out without a reasonable explanation.
‘The fires would break out all over the house. We could have towels hanging on the back of chairs that would go up in flames, The carpet, even my sofa at one point.’
In the beginning, Gaynor stated that it was just minor incidents that she had noticed. Like objects being moved from their place, strange noises. Nothing that she was not able to deal with herself. As the years passed and her children became older. She went on to explain that her son would talk and play with an unknown force in his bedroom. Her son had said it was a little boy.
During the time in the house, her other children would also witness dark shadows and there was a particularly cold spot on the stairs.
‘I used to sit on the landing and listen to him’ explained Gaynor. ‘He was laughing and talking, really giggling at something. Eventually, I went into the room and asked what he was doing, and he said nothing. So, I told him I could hear him, and he responded that he couldn’t tell me everything about him, because he thought I would tell him off, he said the little boy he could see was dead’.
‘You could stand on one step and it’d be fine, but then you’d move to the step above and it’d be freezing cold, definitely something I could never explain.’
Much to Gaynor’s shock at this statement, she’d gone on to explain that she didn’t feel threatened by the presence in the house at the moment, in fact, it was the ghost of a little boy and she could see no harm being done.
Over the years Gaynor has invited many paranormal teams and spiritual mediums into her home and many of the mediums have said that there is a portal which allows the living to cross from the spirit realm and into the living. This portal is believed to be in the kitchen and Gaynor was kind enough to provide me with a photo that was taken at the property. She believes this to be the portal that the mediums are referring too.
“With all the minor incidents happening in the home, the strange occurrences were about to turn a lot more sinister. Gaynor was living with her former partner at the time. ‘That was when the activity really started to kick off. I’ve always sensed that the entity doesn’t like men” 42
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Her former partner was also scratched violently on a regular basis and again Gaynor provided us with a picture. I was horrified to see that it actually does look like inhuman claw marks across his back.
At this home, it seems to be an ongoing occurrence with any male that enters the property. Only just a few weeks ago prior to our visit, Gaynor had a paranormal team in from London and within the first twenty minutes of being inside, one of the male team members had been viciously scratched on his stomach. Priests have also been welcomed into the home on numerous occasions.
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‘At first, we had a priest come in to just bless the place, they came in and would sprinkle holy water. But no matter how many times this would be done, it didn’t seem to make any difference to the activity.’ The Exorfist House is not a new investigation for me, In fact, I’ve been fascinated with this location for the last six years and have racked up a fair amount of experiences here myself. I have witnessed men enter this location with a look of terror upon their faces, one, in particular, I remember well. A sceptical man who’d quite frankly only come because his wife had wanted to experience what the house was all about. I saw this man leave the property, go outside and sit in his car in a withering mess refusing to ever go back in. When we’d approached him outside to ask
what the problem was, he told me that he’d seen a little girl run around the ironing board in the nursery and towards him. The fear on his face was something I will never forget. After investigating this place many times, it became too clear to me that the home has a variety of different energies inside which is why I fully believe that there is a portal of some sort which allows different spirits to cross paths with the living.
Gaynor has looked into the history of the location, but as far as she could tell it was nothing more than a plot of farmland many years ago. But did something horrifying happen on this particular area of land to spark such a chaotic haunting? It will never fully be known.
chattering as I literally felt as though it was the coldest, I have ever been. Vicky had said she’d noticed a drop, but nothing compared to me shivering and chattering right next to her!
During my younger days as an investigator, I was a little more of an ‘up front novice’. One time I’d used provoking to get a reaction. I have only ever been scratched a couple of times in my entire six years of working within the paranormal field and one of those times was at The Exorfist House. The entity clearly did not like the way I was speaking to it, I remember feeling a burning sensation upon my hand and when looking down I saw that I had a rather large ‘claw mark’ which went from my middle finger all the way down to my wrist.
The whole house has a heavy feel to it, but it’s most poignant in this room. The dark seems even darker and the creepiness seems to pique. As we were calling out, I could see shadows moving back and forth in the
chat with Gaynor we grabbed our equipment and started out upstairs. The very back bedroom is the room that is known to hold a darker presence, so we didn’t want to waste any time, and this is exactly where we started.
So, with all this nightmarish activity in her home, why does Gaynor stay? This was the question that had been on my mind the entire time of being here.
‘Because this is my home. I’m not going to let something run me out of my own house.’ Fair enough! She’s a very strong lady indeed! Luckily for Gaynor, since her former partner no longer lives in the home, the activity has seemed to quieten down regarding the spontaneous fires and objects being thrown aggressively.
‘It’s very rare something like that happens now. Men that enter the property will still have things happen to them, things that are nasty. But for me myself, it seems we have now made an agreement where we can live together.’ Myself and my blog partner James were geared up and ready for another investigation at the home, so after our
far corner diagonal to us, there was no light source on our side of the room to cause this and nothing in the room was moving. There were a few taps and bangs from the sealed attic, something definitely didn’t feel right about this back bedroom.”
Before I write about our investigation, I wanted to get James involved with this write-up. When we entered the back bedroom, he instantly began to feel unwelcome in this particular room and for a better insight, I asked him to write up in his own words his experience of being in that room. Here is what he had to say... “Despite activity being reported all over the house, the back bedroom always seems to be particularly active. Gaynor had already mentioned she didn’t like the door to this room being left open and had actually disconnected all the electricity in there and she no longer uses the room at all. When we entered the room, it felt slightly colder than the rest of the house. The curtains were shut and there was no other light source than the dim moonlight creeping around the edges of the curtains. I’d only been in the room about 2-3 minutes and went ice cold, the sort of cold that hurts! I couldn’t concentrate on anything or speak without HAUN TED
I felt fine in this room myself, but as stated at the beginning of the article, it is a well-known phenomenon here in this house for men to feel more unwelcome than women. I didn’t feel threatened or overly cold in the slightest which makes it
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stranger being as I was sat only a few inches away from James at the time. I did witness him feeling very uncomfortable in there which is why I decided to use the SLS stickman censor camera. It did map out a figure at the end of the bed (around James’ leg area) but it was a very small figure, even smaller than a child. Upon speaking to Gaynor about this, she went on to tell us that she had some footage from this particular room of what looks like a small creature, an ‘Imp’ as she would describe it. So, for us to map out something similar in size was very worrying indeed. We also witnessed what looked like a very tall shadow in the corner of the room, almost to the size of the ceiling. Both James and I saw this at the same time, which made it more compelling. During an EVP session in the room, we captured what sounded like a ‘frog’ making a strange gurgling sound. This was the only disembodied sound that was captured after doing several sessions within this area. We spent a good forty-five minutes in this room and aside from the EVP and the SLS figure we didn’t receive any further activity. This was when we ventured out into the hallway.
The energy seemed to shift upon me as I’d felt fine in the first room but upon entering the hallway, I felt very uncomfortable. Again, we checked EMF readings which were normal, and we decided to stay in the corridor and do some 43
calling out. We were using the Ovilus II device which came out with words such as ‘Paranormal Entity’, ‘Demon’, ‘Poltergeist’ and a female name ‘Sally’. We didn’t hear anything unusual and we were not getting intelligent responses to our questions. Activity seemed to come in random bursts. We ventured off into the bathroom due to an experience I had when I was last at the property, I was washing my hands when the shower had turned itself on (quite frankly, it scared the hell out of me.) I went out to let James know and by the time we got back to the bathroom, it had stopped. I spoke to Gaynor about this and she was baffled, this had never happened before as far as she was aware, you actually have to press the button on the shower pretty hard for it to come on! (we tried it!) The energy in the house felt different once again as we reached the bathroom. Neither James or I felt the darker atmosphere we had been feeling in the previous two areas. I did hear a disembodied woman’s voice with my own ears, though what was being said I have no idea. It was very strange, almost like a whimper or a cry. After a short break and a quick catch up with Gaynor, we decided to split ourselves up. So, he took the back bedroom where he’d originally felt so uncomfortable in the first place, 44
doing a lone vigil as I stayed downstairs with the owner. Now what’s strange about this is that James was filming the entire time he had been in the room. The next day I had reviewed the footage. He calls out at the very beginning a couple of times but then after that, for a solid eight or so minutes he didn’t say a single word and he barely moved. When I asked him about this, he said he couldn’t even remember what had gone on in the room!
After James had returned to us, I went off alone into Gaynor’s bedroom. Again, James stayed downstairs with her whilst I went to investigate. I was also rolling on my camera and I can remember that everything felt very calm. The darker oppressive energy we’d been feeling earlier in the house was no longer present. I spent around ten minutes in here calling out but did not hear anything with my own ears until the last couple of minutes when I’d asked for a bang and heard what sounded like three of them bounce off the wall behind me. Upon reviewing the footage, it picked this up rather clearly, but it actually almost sounded like a small person (possibly a child) running along the landing. The tiny footsteps are heard bouncing through the audio. As well as this, halfway through after a question I’d asked about giving me a sign, you can hear what sounds like a woman groaning, similar to what I’d heard in the bathroom earlier, though at the time I did not hear this with my own ears.
We’d had quite an eventful night once again at The Exorfist House and although not a lot of activity was documented, whatever was in the house was seeming to feed off our emotions and the energy from our bodies making us feel a certain way at certain times. It was very strange indeed. If you are ever to see a paranormal event being held at the home, I would definitely recommend a visit. I have investigated this place on a regular basis over the last six years and every time I investigate here, I always experience something that I am not able to explain. I would like to say a massive thanks to Gaynor for having us once again and we definitely look forward to coming back in the future. Until next time, happy hunting.
Vicky X
Deadcentral.blog
It’s really strange and totally out of character for him, I’ve known him a good three or so years and he’s a brilliant investigator who is always pushing questions for activity, so for him to just sit in a room and zone out for eight solid minutes is extremely worrying and weird. Nothing was captured on the footage, no shadows, voices or other unexplainable phenomena other than the fact that James seemed to have zoned out for no logical reason and has no recollection of what happened. All he said he could remember was feeling extremely comfortable this time around, unlike when he’d first stepped into the room earlier that evening. HAUN TED
Footnote: Not long after this, James Bosley and Vicky Grant stopped working together, was The Exorfist House to blame? Who knows…. (they remain friends, so don’t panic)
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THE BOURNE IDENTITY SUPREMACY ULTIMATUM LEGACY
THE ashBOURNE TOWN HALL An Evening of Hell and Accents in Ashbourne with our very own Matt Damon, Hubert Hobux What is it about Town Halls? Several times I’ve been in these, (usually Victorian), stone palaces of bureaucracy, seeking out the shadows and secrets of the past; and I’ve never yet had a dull investigation in any of them.
thought she probably was as the table was frequently tossed at the apparently errant son in law, though the odd, slightly dark negative energy that seems to roam the town hall, was definitely orchestrating the effect as I saw his ghastly face at one stage, transposed menacingly over the fresh-faced face of one of our young lady members! This could be the rakishly evil landlord that once owned the inn, we met him later as well!
This is an account of an “incident” packed investigation we recently undertook in a very accessible, ‘White Peak District’ town hall, previously the site of a reputedly disreputable coaching inn known as The Talbot. Unbeknownst to me there was a slight air of tension in our particular little band, paranormal concerns were prior most in our thoughts though as joined up with a brilliant bunch of enthusiastic sensitives from down South East way. Peculiarly, they decided to bring their own spirit attachment with them, which caused a certain bit of merriment, let’s just say, you’ve heard of the ‘mother in law from hell’ syndrome, yes? They actually brought… their mother in law from hell. I’m sure she had been a lovely woman in life, possibly, though she didn’t half like to vent her spleen by my means of the Ouija board! For those of you that have visited Ashbourne Town Hall, you will know of its shadow figures and disembodied voice recordings around the ballroom area and the place did not disappoint, paranormal occurrence was rife this night, table tipping was literally off the scale, though whether the ‘mother in law’ was throwing her spirit energy weight into this activity as well we weren’t sure, we
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This group we were guiding around the event were a delight, all highly receptive, and during a seance we actually met “Stan”... who came and shadowed one of the guests, ‘Stan’ turned out to be the spirit of a general dogs body, cellar man, ostler, from the days when the Talbot was extant and we had a right conversation at length with him, found out his family details, dates, some dirt on the landlord... all in a deep old Derbyshire accent which sounded remarkable coming from the gent who had been speaking with a Billericay twang all night long! This same Billericay gentleman later ‘channeled’ the small but powerfully emotional spirit of a little lad called “Bobby” in a remarkable automatic spirit writing experiment we tried in the lower levels of the Town Hall, this in the committee room where the ‘death bell’ that claimed the life of a fireman is kept. A handy white board, pen and paper, allowed Bobby to scrawl his name, give us an utterly credible date.... tell us he was looking for his daddy, chillingly though, this may have been, the evil landlord, the attention of his energy all of a sudden took an interest in us and the gentle emotional vibes we were getting off Bobby turned slightly sour, to the extent that we may have revealed some very dark secret that occurred on that area of land, that once housed that inn of bad reputation.... All well drained after this session, physically, mentally, but what an utterly amazing place Ashbourne Town Hall is, laden with spirit energy and you may turn up this unwritten memory as well if you dare visit this haunted hall of local government.
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Left to Right: MJ Dickson, Hazel Ford, Gemma Leigh Drury and Jo in their recent appearance on ITV’s Good Morning Britain
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ere at Haunted Magazine we know our place, oh yes indeed, we’ve known from the very beginning that behind every good and great male ghost hunter there’s a female one pulling the strings. The sooner us men folk learn it and accept it, the better. There are many women in the paranormal world, plying their trade, doing their thang, or simply loving the paranormal. Truth is when Haunted was born, back in 2009, most men on ghost hunts were either dragged unwillingly by their other halves or chauffeurs / taxi for their missis and friends for the night. There was the odd occasion when big strong burly men came along with the seemingly fixed notion of “nothing scares me” attitude, who jumped and screamed the loudest too. BUT anyway, as we said, we’ve known since the beginning that we know our rank and place in the paranormal world and we’re happy with it. It’s one of the reasons why we did a Women in Paranormal special of Haunted Magazine a couple of years ago, guest edited by Lorraine Warren and featuring features on “paranormal women” or written by “women in the paranormal”. Only very recently at the beginning of 2019, female “ghost busters” were in the news and gracing the Good Morning Britain sofa with Ben Shepherd and Kate Garraway, rumour has it that Piers Morgan was too scared to be on the show that day. One of these female “ghost busters” is Jo Lockwood. We’ve known Jo for many years now, she runs a paranormal events company, a paranormal team, hosts a paranormal radio show and has appeared as a paranormal expert on TV shows over the last couple of years (and long may that continue).
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Jo, firstly, thanks for taking the time to sit down with us and answer our questions. Firstly, we’d love to start right at the very beginning and talk about your first paranormal experience, can you remember it and if so, when, where and what happened? I was only a child of approx. 2/3 years of age. My mother said I was playing and talking to someone and when she asked whom I was talking to, I said my nana, a lady whom I now know as my grandmother, I told my mum MAGA Z I NE
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things about her that I couldn’t have known. My grandmother passed away a week before my first birthday and I don’t remember her being alive. Since being a child, I had many experiences with the most memorable seeing a nurse walk into the girl’s toilets at my high school. My school was a military hospital in the war and the nurse looked like a nun. It wasn’t frightening but there was an air of calmness like time had just stood still. These incidents peaked my interest and I began developing my medium skills at the Spiritualist church and reading about the hauntings of Borley Rectory and other stories too. You’ve been ghost hunting with Peter Andre for a spooky segment on the daytime TV show This Morning, what’s he like to work with? Peter is a very down to earth and amiable guy. He was very open to the paranormal, he asked and listened to what the equipment did so he was able to use it. For me to have the opportunity to film the segment at Muncaster
You took part in Celebrity Haunted Hotel a few years back, can you tell us how you got involved with that and would you do a celebrity-based thing again, if asked.
Castle with him was an amazing highlight for me. We didn’t get much activity, but we did witness cold spots, light anomalies and we even captured a fab evp of a gentleman whispering. Peter enjoyed the evening and I cannot wait to venture back to Muncaster Castle for another investigation very soon. What is the scariest place that you have been to, what happened to make is so scary for you? The place that I have been to that scared me and has haunted me ever since that night is the Galleries of Justice, I went with two friends and as soon as I walked into the place, it felt eerie and uninviting. Upon entering the courtroom, the air was quite heavy and musty. Something drew me to the main public gallery, I looked up to see a man with a tricorn hat and period dress looking at the group from behind a pillar, other people saw him too, but this wasn’t very frightening. Upon entering the women’s laundry room, I was met a huge pressure in my head and voices and felt as though I wanted to vomit, this feeling was unlike anything I’d every experienced. The last thing was the cave area, I felt as if my body wasn’t my own and I felt panic and dread and ended up having to be removed from the area. I have never ventured back there since. Has the Paranormal changed over the last 5 years and if so how and why? The paranormal has changed massively over the last five years and I think shows like Ghost Adventures and Paranormal Lockdown, TAPS and Paranormal State have made ghost hunting fashionable without the taboo and stigma attached to it being geeky. Equipment has come on light years with the likes of the Ovilius 5 and Paranormal Puck bringing major improvements in technology however there is still room for more improvement, and I predict that more sophisticated pieces of equipment will be launched soon.
I was cast in Celebrity Haunted Hotel back in 2016 and it was an experience I will never forget. I met some amazing and wonderful people on there that I class as lifelong friends now. I got involved after receiving an email from one of the producers asking me if they could do a mini investigation with us, I never imagined that I would be asked to be on the show. But when the call came, I was elated and excited at the thought of doing LIVE TV. Would I do it again? I would, it was hard work being on set from 11am until 3am but I loved every minute of it, and I think it showed also.
We’ve loved watching the new paranormal TV show Britain’s Scariest Hauntings / World’s Scariest Hauntings on PickTV over the last few weeks and months. Sadly, it’s just finished but can you tell us more about it, is it different to other shows? Britain’s Scariest Hauntings is all about the hauntings that have been historically documented in the UK and yes, it started on Sky Channel PickTV in November 2018. It featured some amazing locations in the UK and across the world and each episode was based on a different location and relied on real life experiences from eye witness accounts from that location. I was on there with Barri Ghai (Celebrity Haunted Hotel and Help My House is Haunted) to sort of explain the activity, not to say it’s real or it’s not but to sort of do a commentary of what people saw and explain in greater detail. I loved it AND rest assured 2019 is going to be a great year for Paranormal TV, my lips are sealed so I can’t say too much but keep watching.
Tell us about Phantasmic Paranormal, how did it start, when did it start and is there any difference between public “The place that I have been to that scared me events, private events and the and has haunted me ever since that night is paranormal stuff the Galleries of Justice, I went with two friends we all see on TV?
and as soon as I walked into the place, it felt
Phantasmic Paraeerie and uninviting. “ normal was born out of loneliness. I was going through a What’s on your top 3 paranormal bucket messy and turbulent divorce and deep down list, and why? I needed to realise what and who I was and to find myself, to find friends who shared My top 3 Bucket list of venues would be the same interest as me again and after goAlcatraz – as I have seen it documented so many times and I would love to experience ing on a few events realised that my heart it myself. The second would have to be the was in making sure guests enjoyed themWaverly Hills Sanatorium in Kentucky, I have selves. I approached a couple of companies a fascination with hospitals, and this is one prior to work with them but got the door place that has seen so many deaths due to slammed in my face, one group however experimental surgeries, this is a must for did offer me an opportunity and I worked at me one day and lastly another American Tatton Old Hall with two other women, it was classic. And lastly the Winchester House in quite clear early on that I wasn’t part of their California, my great grandfather’s brother’s clique and I wasn’t welcome. I met a lady emigrated to America in the early 1900’s there I now know as Claire Barrand and after and I have a love of the USA and the grand a vigil in the barn area she said I ought to set plantation houses and the prisons, so I hope my own up, so I did just that and Phantasmic that one day I will be able to investigate these iconic buildings and see exactly what Paranormal was born. lurks in the shadows. There’s a huge difference between public and private events because as a private group, our team knows our strengths and weaknesses and how we all work, and we just get on with it. Public events are very different, you must make sure that every guest is happy and investigating safely and responsibly. TV isn’t the hour that you see on the screen, it’s hours of recording the same thing repeatedly, it’s the fluffing of lines and getting memory block of the lines you are supposed to say, but it’s amazing when you see the finished article. HAUN TED
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Do you think social media has played a huge part in the paranormal or not? Social Media has played a huge part in the rise of popularity of the paranormal and investigating. Many teams are using You Tube to document their evidence, Instagram to show photos, and Facebook Live to give you an insight into real life investigations and some even using Snap Chat now which is fantastic platform for all investigators however there is a darker side to social media too which creates deep seated jealousy and rivalry with various people being subjected to cyber bullying. If you could change one thing about the paranormal world, what would it be, and why? If I could change one thing within the paranormal, it would be for every single team to practise what they preach about Para unity – if you can’t say anything nice then say nothing at all. I think there
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needs to be some changes within the pricing of venues, small companies cannot compete with venues charging £1200 plus VAT, it is simple too much. So, I think there’s needs to be some caps in place. Do you think that there will, eventually, be 100% cast iron, concrete proof that ghosts/ spirits are real? I think one day there will be definite proof spirits/ghosts are real, it’s just a matter of time. I think most paranormal investigators know in their heart of hearts that there is something as they wouldn’t spend their time trying to find the evidence. We all have our own personal experiences to go by. I feel that if we continue to document evidence and utilise technology and scientific evidence, we will see some good solid proof in time. If you could ask one spirit one questions and one question only, who would it be and what would you ask?
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I would ask my late grandmother if she was proud of me, she is one of my guides but to be able to speak with her in person and see her face would mean the world to me. And finally, you’re hosting a dinner party at Chez Lockwood, you can invite SIX people, dead or alive, real or fictional, who would they be, and why? More importantly, what would you serve, we’re talking starters, main courses, puddings, the works. Come on spill the paranormal beans. Dinner at Chez Lockwood’s guest list would be Marilyn Monroe to ask her about her colourful life and whether blondes really did have more fun, Nostradamus so he explain his predictions, Dennis Nilsen to find out why he killed all the people he did and why, Beethoven as I love classical music and used to pick a fair bit of Beethoven for my gymnastic routines when I was a child, Adolf Hitler and
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Henry VIII to see how these two would get on, and find out if they would do anything differently. I absolutely love cooking, so I would cook: Sautéed king scallops with smoked pancetta, parsnip puree and cumin foam.
Pan
fried
Duck Breast
with potato dauphinoise and caramelised chicory, served with a cherry and red wine jus.
Dessert
would be a rich
chocolate torte with handmade vanilla ice cream.
Followed
by a beautiful
after dinner wine and cheese board.
Jo thanks again for taking the time to speak with us today and good look with all of your future TV projects.
A Ghost is a Ghost is a Ghost, Is it Not? BY SAM BENNETTS
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hroughout life existence there have been many reports of Ghostly apparitions throughout the world. So, I am going to have a look at what is the purpose of these visitations and the different kinds of ghosts we either seek or see.
Many of us have weird sensations about seeing shadows or shapes out of the corner of our eye, only for them to disappear when we turn to look. And while you may be one of those people who is not afraid of such a paranormal experience, did you ever stop and wonder just what kind of ghostly apparition you encountered? Maybe, like most folks, you didn’t even consider that there could be different kinds of ghosts out there. But the fact is, there is a list and definitions of the types of supernatural phenomena that exist, and it may come in handy as you never know whether you may come in contact with a Ghost at some point in your life! Ghosts are the disembodied spirits of people or things that once existed and now linger on, half in our worlds and half in the next. They come in many guises and their characteristics vary widely. This is a comfort to some, knowing that their loved one is still around them and looking after them but for others they feel it is a nightmare and feel threatened and scared at even the word ghost.
So, what is the purpose of Ghostly visits? So, we have 2 main ghosts – the conscious and the unconscious, or the intelligent and the residual. Basically, meaning that they are either just a replay of their old life, not aware of the real and present day or people and cannot interact with the living – unconscious and residual, or a ghost that can interact with their surroundings and see and communicate with the living – Conscious and intelligent. So, we can now break ghost downs to these type of ghost they are: Warning – these ghosts/spirits come to those in the living to warn them about things that are going to happen. There have been many reports of a ghost appearing just before an accident happening and making the person change direction. Playful - you find that many of the playful ones are children/animals, but you also
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have many adult ghosts/spirits wanting to play or be mischievous.
living or to warn them with something going on in their lives.
Informative - Ghosts/spirits who want to pass over information to those still living.
Lifesaving – or warning ghosts – there are many stories on roads of drivers slowing down in dangerous roads as they have seen the apparition of someone. These are the ghosts that come to save you and your life. They come to avert tragedy and or disaster.
Helping – A ghost/spirit who needs some helps coming to terms where they are now. So now you can understand that Ghosts/ Spirits can do many different things, and sometimes their intentions are not to scare the crap out of you but instead could be there to give you comfort or need advice and help. So, they make their presence known to us in many different ways. I am going to list a variation of these for you as throughout the years I have come across many different varieties of ghosts and their descriptive meanings. Crisis apparition – a ghost of someone who has just died, an apparition of one about to die or someone experiencing some sort of crisis. This ghost or apparition comes to say goodbye to the
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Messenger – this is the type of ghost that will come and visit a lived one as they just pass to let them know they are ok. They could also come and visit to let you know its ok for you to move on with your life. Protector – many also call these guardians – throughout history there have been many sightings of dogs that have appeared and fall into this category to protect the living whom appear to be in danger from a robber for example. Names of this dog come under barguest - A goblin in English folklore, often appearing in the shape of a large dog and believed to portend imminent death or misfortune.
Help seeking – the ghost appears when they are in need of help. For example: the body they used whilst on the earth plain may not be properly buried and therefore preventing them to move on from the earth plain. Sometimes these you can also follow the ghost and they can show you where they are laid to rest. Resident – these are the ghosts we hear lots about. The ghosts/spirits who have not left a property. Those whom wish to stay and let the living know that they are not alone, and they have others living with them. It could also be a spirit from someone who had a strong attachment to the property or place as doesn’t want to leave. Many children that have past, and pets fall into this category, and this is just a sign of them wanting to play and find friends. What is good about these types of ghosts/spirits is they can open your eyes into the history of the building or place and you can learn even more. Helpful – when a loved one or friend dies and passes over, many living people call out to them for help. Maybe you have misplaced an item for example and call upon a loved one to help find it, and it re appears.
Poltergeist - a German word meaning “noisy ghost.” It describes many effects such as knocks on walls, objects thrown about by unseen hands, furniture moved, and other occurrences. These manifestations were long thought to be the mischievous pranks of spirits or, more frightening, the malevolent works of demons. Interactive - The most common of all ghosts spotted is usually of a deceased person, someone you know, a family member or perhaps even a historical figure. These ghosts can be friendly or not – but often show themselves to others in a variety of ways. They can become visible; they can speak or make noises, touch you or even emit an odour like perfume or cigar smoke, etc, to let you know they are there. Experts say that this type of ghost retains its former personality of when they were alive and can feel emotions. And often, they are visiting you to comfort you or let you know something important. So, if you happen to see a lost loved one, chances are they are there because they feel you want or need to see them.
Ectoplasm or Ecto-Mist - a mist or fog that almost looks like it’s swirling? If so, you may be witnessing what paranormal investigators deem as an ecto-mist or ghostly mist. This vaporous cloud usually appears several feet off the ground and can move swiftly or simply stay still – almost likes it’s orbiting. These ghostly encounters have been captured on many videos and in photographs and can be white, grey or even black. Although they can simply appear this way, linger then move away quickly, sometimes ectoplasms appear before becoming a full-bodied apparition. Many people have witnessed them outdoors, in graveyards, battlefields and historical sites. Funnel Ghosts - Most often spotted in homes or old historical buildings, the funnel ghost or vortex is frequently associated with a cold spot. They usually take on the shape of a swirling funnel and most paranormal experts believe they are a loved one returning for a visit or even a former resident of the home. Appearing as a wisp of light or a swirling spiral of light, they are often caught in photographs or on video.
So next time you think you may have come in contact with a ghost/spirit have a look above and see which category your visitor is in. Sleep well people.
Sam X
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BLACKBIRD SINGING IN THE DEAD OF NIGHT BY KRISTEN WHEELER
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don’t like living here. This place is old, and it smells like mothballs and Murphy’s Oil Soap. My husband’s family has lived here since it was built in the 1820s, but I’ve never felt welcome across its threshold. The sterile white facade, bulky black shutters, expansive upper and lower galleries, weathered wicker rockers, towering panelled windows, and sloping roof hidden amongst a cluster of generations old Live Oak trees are straight out of a classic horror feature. Let’s not forget the nameless family members entombed just outside in the open brick vault under the oldest oak tree next to the chapel. Their rusty iron caskets with glass faceplates lie exposed to the elements. My father-in-law told me a story once - while playing hide and seek, he hid among the family of caskets. His elbow accidentally hit the glass faceplate of one of the adult-sized coffins and it cracked like a hard-boiled egg. The moment the glass fractured, the air-tight seal broke and the body inside reduced to dust. I never liked walking out there alone. I have to observe that crypt with the slender wooden cross over its peak every day and night; the wrought iron fleurde-lis and heavy inlaid bars are the only things between me and the ancient sarcophagi. The ivy growing from the monstrous base of the oldest oak tree spreads across the front of the brick, weaving in and out of the iron bars with pointed tips reaching up to the sky like fingertips searching for another surface to take hold of. It’s covered in bright kellygreen moss. To the right, a metal plate marker designates a significant historical site, put in place by the Smithsonian after thoroughly studying the property and its relocked contents.
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So many people pass by this Antebellumera southern Louisiana plantation, fascinated with its history and landscape; but they don’t live here like I do. The home is nestled between dozens of Live Oak trees, the property outlined by a white picket fence with points so sharp they could stab ou if you’re not careful. A narrow brick walkway leads to the front porch from the busy street, its olive-green gates with brass handles intended to keep intruders at bay. The heavy-wooden main doors and windows are flanked by tall, seasoned black shutters. The gentle fall breeze sways the dark iron gas lantern hanging from the first-floor gallery roof; hinged from its rusty sockets, it makes an unsettling, oily, creaking sound. We live upstairs, Victor and I, a temporary situation until our new home is move-in ready. While I’m extremely thankful for the free place to stay, and this place is rather hauntingly beautiful, there’s still something ominous about it; its history - something forgotten, something still here wandering the halls, exploring the
grounds - is unsettling and keeps me awake at night. I finally got into that comfortable spot in bed, just the right position, the one where if you move a centimetre, it 54
disrupts everything. The half-moon glow presented itself through the leaded glass windows of the frail, rail less balcony that Victor and his brother are still repairing. The wind whistled through the slit openings where Victor opened the casement letting in the crisp November air. The cool, fresh breeze floated through the room like a soft whisper in my dreams. “Squeeeeeeeeeeeeek.” ...My eyes darted open “what was that?” I said out loud, bolting upright just before I fell into a deep sleep. “Did you hear that Victor?” “No, sweetheart, just go back to sleep, it’s just an old house, it makes a lot of noises, you know this.” “But honey, that was really loud, it wasn’t just a house noise.” “Sweetpea...please go back to sleep.” Trying to ignore it and listen to my husband’s sound advice, my heart started pounding like the Tell-Tale Heart...faster and faster, deeper and deeper. I closed my eyes again and forced the stillness in me, and I sank into a deep, dark sleep. I dreamt of strangers walking through the house. People I didn’t recognize dressed in clothing of another era. They sluggishly walked around, in and out of doorways and through walls expressionless and seemingly calm, sitting on furniture but never disturbing anything or anyone. Victor and I walked around too, completely unaware of their existence until we smelled nfamiliar pipe tobacco and I started to cough. I remember looking at Victor, drinking a ball glass full of bourbon with flawlessly squared ice cubes...but my Victor doesn’t drink. The smell of burnt wicks from the glass oil lamps filled the whole house with a pungent air. Early dawn light displayed itself through the windows and I slowly opened my eyes five minutes before my alarm blared. I heard Victor turn off the clinking hot water knob, draw the fabric curtain of the shower closed and turn on his electric razor. I sat on the edge of the bed for a minute and stretched, put my slippers on, then slowly stood up and pulled the sheets and handmade quilt towards the pillows, hastily making the bed. Surely my mother-in-law, God rest her soul, would disapprove of the terrible job I was doing, but I didn’t care, it was one of my least HAUN TED
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favourite chores. I momentarily forgot about the disturbing sound last night that woke me from my slumber, until suddenly… “Squeeeeeeeeeeeeek.” My heart sank all the way to my toes! The tone was so prolonged and strange, it sounded like someone running their wet index finger along a slick piece of glass. Instead of jumping back in bed, throwing the covers over my head, and calling for my spouse as any sane person would do, I decided to search for the source of this peculiar noise like the next panicked victim in a horror movie. Heading for the hallway, I stepped through the small bedroom attached to our master and stumbled in front of the antique bed frame, the one Victor said his father was born in as well as several other relatives who lived in the house at various times. He once told me that his mother, a fastidious home keeper, often came into this room and saw the bed she recently made had a depression in it as if someone was sitting there. I can just picture the annoyed look on her face at her meticulous housework being so blatantly disrespected. Wait, is there a depression there now? “My mind must be playing tricks on me,” I whispered. Contemplating what I might see if I stayed staring at this intimidating bed any longer, I ran into the hallway, stopping abruptly at the rail of the circular stairwell, slowing my anxious breath to
a gentle hum. “Squeeeeeeeeeeeeek.” “Where is that coming from?” I said out loud, inquisitively. Looking at the small door to the attic steps leading to the loft full of old, decaying trunks, I muttered “Is it coming from up there? I hate going in that room.” The precarious passageway leads to an expansive woodpanelled room where my mother-in-law’s bridal gown is exquisitely displayed on an antique dress form centred on a faded oriental rug. A very bizarre sight for anyone who doesn’t know it’s there, but my father-in-law insisted it remain in the state his loving wife left it, and not be touched. “Squeeeeeeeeeeeeek.” This time I recognized the echo as coming from the first floor. Slowly making my way down the clanging wooden staircase, I remembered just how hard it is to be quiet in this antiquated house. Halting at the base of the stairs, I touched the ivory button inlaid in the shiny, darkstained oak railing, rubbing it with my middle finger. I knew it was a symbol of good luck, and I think I might need a bit of that right now. Little slivers of pink and gold sunrise scattered across the first-floor like daggers waiting to slice my feet as I walked across them. I passed the shadowy reflection on the wall that Victor told me he was afraid of as a child; how scared he was of that silly shadow
he thought looked like a face. Walking past it this time though, I saw what he was talking about and felt like it was looking right through me, right into my very soul. I misplaced my footing over some non-existent object and stubbed my toes on the white marble baseboards. I limped through the dining room where the Victorian-era silhouette portrait of Victor’s Great Great Grandfather and his immediate family hung on the wall. He commissioned the portrait for his daughter’s wedding, and it included their slaves, extraordinarily rare for the time. “Squeeeeeeeeeeeeek.” There it was again, clear as a crystal vase. I nervously walked into the foyer afraid of what I might see - past the decaying piano and its stained, ivory keys with silver-framed portraits of Victor’s family sitting atop its still-shiny surface, the stained red velvet covered stool in front of it, and the original oil painting of one of the family members above...I can’t remember his name, but I do remember my fatherin-law talking about the long scrape on its surface. He said it was a slit from a Yankee sabre, repaired after the Civil War. Stepping carefully through the archway, I peered into the family room where the ardent black-marbled fireplace stands with its oversized, antique gold-gilded
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Baroque mirror hanging above from the picture rail. It always makes me uneasy looking at it, I don’t know why, but I always feel its lustrous and dark presence whenever I enter the room, and today was unprecedented. Staring at my reflection in the haunting mirror for a moment, I noticed my hair dishevelled and in need of a good colour, deep blue nightgown flowing to the ground (Victor’s favourite colour of course), and fuzzy slippers keeping my feet warm. Victor told me his mom used to come downstairs to this mantel and find her delicate porcelain figurines lying gently on their sides as if someone conceded their chess pieces. A curious circumstance indeed, and one I wasn’t enthusiastic to witness, which is why I had Victor remove the figurines after she passed away. “Squeeeeeeeeeeeeek.” The sound was RIGHT in front of me now. I stared at the fireplace and saw a slight movement coming from the oil lamp resting on the mantle. The hurricane glass vibrated, and my heart started racing, my heart beats so loud in my head I could taste them. Inching closer and closer to the mantle, I saw the glass tremble once more, a dark mass shifting inside. “It’s a blackbird,” I said out loud. How does a blackbird get inside an oil lamp without knocking anything over?
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He’s in there like a ship in a bottle. Studying the room and surveying every inch, I noticed that none of the windows or doors were open, and the window in our room upstairs was open just a crack, not even enough to let a small mouse through, let alone a fullgrown blackbird. “Victorrrr...”, I called with my usual there’s-a-cockroachyou-need-to-remove voice, but he didn’t answer. I stepped right up to the oil lamp and the bird stared at me; it felt like he was looking through me just like the haunting reflection in the hallway. “How did you get yourself in there? How in the world am I supposed to get you out?” Gripping the top of the hurricane glass with my right hand and clutching the bottom of the oil lamp with my left, I slowly, ever so softly, shuffled to the front door. My hands shaking and sweating and a pulsing chill coursing through my body, I stepped to the threshold. In order to open the heavy wooden double doors, I set the lamp down as gently as I could on the floor and bent over, covering the opening in the glass to steady it with my right hand while simultaneously unlocking the deadbolts and grasping the brass handle with my left. I propped the door open with my now bruised foot from running into the marble baseboard, slowly picking up the hurricane lamp and walking outside onto the front gallery with my slippers on and flowing satin nightgown. Fingers trembling and the hairs of my arms standing on end, I set the blackbird-infested lamp on the side table next to the rocking chair, then paused to take a deep breath of fresh air and calm my exaggerated nerves, exhaling loudly. Not fully awake and aware of what I was witnessing before me, my body sore
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and tired from that old wooden bed and its stiff, who-knows-how-longits-been-there mattress, I rocked for a minute in the chair, staring at the blackbird inside the lamp. “How did you get in there?” I asked aloud as if truly expecting a competent answer. “Squeeeeeeeeeeeeek.”, the blackbird’s sharp beak scraped across the frosted hurricane glass making tiny scratches on the surface, as if trying to answer my question. I winced at the piercing sound. Hesitantly lifting the curved glass from the base of the lamp to see if the blackbird was stuck or could free himself, the bird, still adhered to the slick surface, forcefully started pedalling his feet like a bicycle. Lying it on its side and hoping he could free himself without any assistance, the glass tube started rolling from side to side on the uneven table top. Afraid the fragile lamp would break, I quickly braced it with my trembling, slippery hands. The blackbird started to jostle himself, trying to break free but still keeping a surprising calmness about him. Lifting the glass once more, the wider opening at the bottom where it rested on the base of the lamp made me even more curious how he got in there without assistance. Someone would actually have to lift the glass off the base for him to fit inside. Gently shaking the glass, then with a little more force, he broke free without any damage to the lamp or lecture from my father-in-law about the care of his belongings. He perched on the table for a moment and glared at me with his beady charcoal eyes, cocked his head to one side, then ruffled his feathers and shook out his wings. Peering out at the expansive private property, tilting his head from side to side at the sound of other
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birds whispering in the distance, he abruptly froze then suddenly took off. Images of last night’s dream flashed before me and I closed my eyes... burnt oil lamp wicks, the smell of pipe tobacco, bourbon and ice, and people aimlessly walking around the house, in and out of walls. Was it a premonition? What other strange circumstances will present themselves over the course of our stay here? I heard Victor’s footsteps coming down the staircase and opened my eyes, taking another deep breath. He abruptly paused at the doorway and peered out. “Sweetpea?” he said inquisitively. “I’m right here on the rocker” I responded. “What on earth are you doing out here in your nightgown with the front door open?” “Just enjoying the cool air and the sounds of the birds” I replied, deciding not to share what happened with the blackbird for fear he wouldn’t believe me and call me crazy again. “Well, come inside, we don’t want to let any wild animals in or anything.” I sighed a long heavy sigh of relief that the blackbird was back where he should be and we went into the house, closing and locking the door, the disassembled lamp forgotten. “Have a good day my darling wife”, Victor said as he kissed me tenderly on the cheek. “We don’t have to stay here much longer, remember that ok?” “Yes dear, I’m counting on it,” I replied. Location: Live Oaks Plantation, Rosedale, Louisiana, USA. Private residence and not open to the public. Please respect the privacy of the owners.
S
o, you’re curious about the paranormal. Maybe you have a thing for haunted and cursed objects. You hear a disembodied voice call your name or a bang down the hall, and you chase after it. You like to consider yourself brave, right? Do you think you’re brave enough to sit in a chair? How about a chair that’s killed at least four people? Not so brave now, are you? It may sound like a shtick from a dark comedy, but the Death Seat in the Old Canal Inn is anything but a laughing matter. Just forty minutes outside the bustling metropolis of New York City is the quiet township of Nutley, New Jersey, home to the Old Canal Inn. Originally opened in 1934 under the name of JoJo’s Tavern, the Old Canal Inn has always been a favourite
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watering hole among the local residents, and lately, foodies and paranormal investigators, too. In 1948, the name of the tavern was changed from JoJo’s to Old Canal in honour of the Morris Canal that once ran through the town in the 19th century… and it was after that name change that some pretty freaky things started happening, all revolving around a single (evil) chair. According to legend, the Old Canal Inn is home to the infamous Death Seat. It’s an unsuspecting chair at the end of the bar situated right next to the front window of the tavern. Nothing too terrifying upon first glance, but if the legend is to be believed, anyone who is brave enough (or foolish enough) to sit in the chair dies of a heart attack within ten days. Now that sounds like the making of a ghost story…
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The legend claims that back in the 1960s, two men (“frenemies” as one might say nowadays), were fighting over the lone chair as it was, ironically, the best seat in the house. The unfortunate winner took his rightful place on the stool in the corner of the bar and died of a heart attack right where he sat. How fortuitous for the loser of the scuffle! With his adversary now gone and out of the way, the coveted seat was left all to him… until he, too, died of a heart attack while sitting in the chair less than thirty days later. No one knows for sure just how many deaths can be traced back to the Old Canal Inn (there was at least one other heart attack directly in the chair back in 1986), but just to be on the safe side, the owners have the seat safely chained off from the public now. You read that right: The Death Seat is still in the Old Canal Inn situated where it’s always been at the end of the bar. The red vinyl seat is ripped and worn from years of use (that can’t be good for the heart attack rates of Nutley), and a sign now hangs beside it, reading Free Seating at the Death Seat Tonight Only (pro-tip: don’t actually sit in the chair). You’d think that a bar might not want to advertise so much death and mayhem in their establishment, but not in New Jersey! Today, owner, Mark Conca, and his brothers don’t shy away from the eerie legend of the Death Seat. On the contrary! In fact, they’ve embraced it as a part of their identity and found a unique way to celebrate that nefarious little chair.
Enter: The Death Seat Burger Platter Everything about this burger is insane (but so, too, is the legend that inspired it). It starts simple enough: a burger on a brioche bun. Toss on a mountain of mashed potatoes. Sprinkle some jalapenos on top. Slather it in cheddar cheese. Oh, and then beer batter it, and deep fry the whole damn thing. The result is nothing short of a heart attack on a plate (I see what they did there), and yet another feather the Old Canal Inn can place in its cap. Now I’m not the biggest fan when it comes to wacky food combinations. In fact, I’m slightly neurotic about it—my vegetables cannot touch my meat, and my meat cannot touch my potatoes—so this burger was a leap of faith for me. Well, Mark and his burger did not disappoint. It’s probably the most delicious (albeit, also the strangest) burger I’ve ever had, and it does its job perfectly: keeping the legend of the Death Seat alive, even well into the 21st Century. Of course, the Death Seat Burger Platter isn’t the only thing lurking in the kitchen of the Old Canal Inn. According to the owners, “150% something is happening” at the Old Canal Inn. Burger creator and owner, Mark, staff, and patrons have all experienced a variety of paranormal activity since the Conca brothers bought the restaurant back in 2011 (and who knows what mischief the ghosts were getting into before that?). Occasionally, there has been the sound of pots and pans moving in the kitchen when no one else is supposed to be in the building.
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The CO2 for the beer has been shut off repeatedly (you stay away from our beer, you pesky spooks!). The ghosts of the former owner and bartender have been seen walking through the kitchen doors into the dining room—one of the witnesses was the previous owner’s very own grandson. Patrons at the bar have reported feeling phantom fingers brush the back of their necks. And from what I heard from Mark, it sounds like there might be a vortex in the basement which causes lightbulbs in lamps to explode repeatedly, without any explanation. Despite the noisy haunt and the dark past the building has, there is no evidence that the spirits haunting the Old Canal Inn died in the Death Seat, but their presence still adds to the enigma of the bar. So much so, that I drove over eight hours just to see the chair and eat that burger and I regret nothing! As someone who travels around looking for haunted restaurants, the Death Seat Burger Platter is unlike anything I’ve ever seen: a haunting actually inspiring a dish (and a freakishly delicious one at that)! I still have a few days left in that “ten days later” time frame, so by the time you’re reading this, I might very well be dead. Will I die of a heart attack from sitting in the Death Seat or from eating the Death Seat Burger Platter? And the answer is: does it really matter? At least I’ll have died happy… and with 150 beers available and a never-ending supply of that beautiful burger, I can think of no better place to haunt for all eternity. The Death Seat Burger Platter is only available on Mondays at the Old Canal Inn, located at 2 E Passaic Ave, Nutley, NJ 07110. For more information, check out their website oldcanalinn. com or if you ever find yourself in New York City, stop in for a bite… tell Mark that Spook-Eats sent you.
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C O N F I D E N T I A L :
A BOY NAMED KYLE THE PROFESSIONAL PARAMEDIC’S PERSONAL PARANORMAL PILGRIMAGE
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should probably start out with a disclaimer: this is going to be a different column than those I usually write. This time, it’s going to be a lot more personal. (Don’t worry, normal service will resume next issue). As paranormal enthusiasts, we all know that there are, broadly speaking, three categories of haunting: haunted places, haunted objects, and haunted people. For the past two years, I have been covering some of my favorite haunted locations across Britain and the United States, taking Haunted Magazine readers behind the scenes of my investigations there. Although we tend to focus more upon historic locations these days, my team does still take on help cases from time to time. I’m also happy to talk with people who feel as though they are experiencing paranormal activity in their home or workplace, particularly when they are concerned about it or afraid.
And then, every so often, something truly special comes along.
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hen I’m not prowling through dark hallways and writing about it, I make my living as a paramedic. Part of that involves lecturing at the paramedic academy, sharing what little I’ve learned over the years with the newest crop of eager street medics. One day, I got an email from one of the staff members, asking if I would like to speak with a friend of hers, a fellow lecturer there. The story she told me was a sad one. The former paramedic’s son was in the final stages of cancer, and his ultimate prognosis was grim. At night, when the young man (whose name was Kyle) was laying in his bed at home, he was visited by several different shadow figures, which was what triggered my involvement in the case. Intrigued, I spoke with Kyle’s dad. “Kyle’s not scared,” he told me, “but he would like to talk about his experiences with somebody who knows about this kind of stuff.” How could I possibly say no to that? The family lived a couple of hours’ drive from where I worked. Knocking off early one afternoon, I got on the road before hitting the rush hour traffic. As I drove the final few miles to Kyle’s house, I realized that my palms were sweating, and my heart rate was up. I was nervous. More nervous than I had ever been while spending time at 30 East Drive, Asylum 49, or any of the hundred or so haunted locations I had investigated over the past 25 years. What on Earth was I going to say to Kyle? How do you talk to somebody who is in the process of actively dying? HAUN TED
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You’d be forgiven for thinking that I would be proficient in that, due to my line of work. It’s true that I have held the hand of many dying patients during my time as a medic. As somebody whose mum died in a hospice, I tried my best to treat each and every one of them as I would have wanted her to be treated. But no matter how many times you do it, it never gets any easier. As I pulled into the family’s driveway and parked, I figured that this would be one of those cases where I should spend twice as much time listening as I did talking.
This one wasn’t going to be about the ghosts. It was going to be about Kyle. Kyle’s dad opened the door and we shook hands, chatted briefly, and then he let me upstairs to Kyle’s bedroom. The chap himself was propped up in bed, clicking away at a computer keyboard and racking up a ridiculously high score on one of his favorite video games. I took a chair next to his bedside and listened to Kyle, along with the occasional interjection from his dad, tell me his story. Kyle was ten years old when he was diagnosed with an extremely rare form of cancer known as mesenchymal chondrosarcoma. Most patients who develop this disease have a life expectancy of less than eight years, but not Kyle — he dug in his heels and fought back for thirteen years. The lad’s a natural born fighter, not just for himself, but also for others, working tirelessly to raise money for children’s cancer charity. 61
He went through the course of his cancer treatment with quite a few other children, many of whom became fast friends, bonded by the shared hardship of fighting a common illness. Tragically, they began to die off one by one, until Kyle found himself to be the last one of the group friends still alive.
That’s when they began to visit him at night. They were shadowy figures rather than fully-realized three-dimensional apparitions, but he recognized them for who they were — the spirits of his friends, coming back to keep him company and to watch over him. “I know that I’m dying and going to a better place, and I’m okay with that,” he told me, while I tried my absolute hardest to pretend that there was something in my eye. In both of my eyes. “I think they’re getting ready to help me across.” Sometimes he saw the figures in the hallway outside the room, while at other times they were right there in the bedroom with him. It was obvious that he took great comfort and reassurance in their presence, but Kyle was also something of a natural skeptic. He told me that he had considered the possibility that the apparitions were dreams, but he had checked the logs on his smart watch, which he used to track his sleep times, and the watch insisted that he had been awake at the times when the shadow figures appeared. When I delicately suggested that the chemotherapy drugs as a possible contributory factor (some medications cause hallucinations as a side-effect) he pointed out that he had stopped taking those medications, as they were doing little good and making him feel ill...yet the encounters still persisted. One night, Kyle was in bed as usual, when he suddenly saw a strange light coming from the hallway outside his room. As he sat up in bed and watched, two glowing figures floated in through the open doorway, gliding rather than walking. Their arrival was silent, unaccompanied by the sound of footsteps. Both figures were between seven and eight feet tall, human-shaped, but had no discernible facial features; each was bathed in a golden-white glow. They stopped at his bedside and the closest of the two reached out a hand, pressing it gently against the side of his face. Kyle had been suffering from excruciating pain in his cheek for weeks, where a tumor had been surgically 62
removed. As soon as the mysterious figure touched his face, suffusing him with a healing warmth, the pain was instantly gone, never to return. “Explain to me how a hallucination can take away chronic pain,” Kyle asked me with a mischievous twinkle in his eye. I had no good answer for him. Although he didn’t see the figure open its mouth, Kyle suddenly heard it speaking to him in a female voice. All it said was, “The third time will be the final time.” “What do you think she meant by that?” I asked, intrigued. “This is Kyle’s third round of treatment,” his dad explained. “He beat this thing in 2006 and again in 2010. Now the doctors tell us that it’s too advanced. There isn’t going to be a fourth time...” Kyle nodded and told me that he knows this is his final go-around with his illness. There can be no remission this time, and he knows it. I can’t speak for you, dear reader, but in his situation, I’m pretty sure that I would be angry. Mad as hell. In fact, even just LISTENING to his story, I was outraged at just how unfair it all was. But Kyle was perfectly calm and sanguine about it, showing a grace and maturity that was nothing short of astonishing. “When it’s my time, it’s my time,” he said simply, not in a fatalistic way, but more that of someone who knows how the journey ends and is totally at peace with it. Looking back now, six months later, I can’t remember a thing about the drive home that night, apart from the fact that I was in tears for two hours straight. Kyle had taught me something extremely valuable, and I want to share that with you, the person reading this article. Kyle no longer has the ability to taste food. The cancer has robbed him of that. He can eat, but rarely gets hungry — although he can remember what his favorite food tastes like, he cannot actually taste it. The worst meal you ever eat will be more pleasurable than the best food he could ever eat. I thought about what might be waiting for me in the microwave at home and decided right then and there that I would appreciate every last mouthful. The one thing he misses most, he told me in wistful tones, was the prospect of having a job. He wanted nothing more than to go to a workplace in the daytime, instead of spending most of his time in bed. He was ever so slightly envious of those of us that HAUN TED
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go to work. Never mind all of the politics, annoyances, irritations, and stupidity that many of us deal with day-to-day at our place of employment. The kind of stuff that we complain about is something that Kyle would give almost anything to deal with. I thought about all of the negative stuff in my life, which is most likely very similar to the things that you’re dealing with too. The aches, pains, and stiffnesses of growing old. Having to pay bills. Go to work. Get up after too little sleep. Going shopping. Driving on the motorway. In short, all of the things that make most of us roll our eyes and groan... to us they’re irritants. To Kyle, they’re something he’ll never have. And then there’s the big one: illness and, ultimately, death. We all fear it. We all know it’s coming. Some of us will go cursing, kicking, and possibly screaming, full of regret and resentment at missed opportunities and the roads not taken. We could all do with taking a leaf out of Kyle’s book. His story is coming to an end far too soon, in his early twenties, yet he knows that for many of his friends, their lives ended before they even got the chance to reach adulthood. I think that’s one of the reasons why he appreciates their visitations so much. It’s a constant reminder of the extra time on this Earth that he was given, which they were not, and he is grateful for it. Thanks to them, he is no longer afraid of dying, because he knows that it isn’t the end. Those spirits have taught him that we do go on and can come back to support our loved ones if we so choose. Meeting Kyle and hearing his story gave me, a sometimes-embittered middle-aged man, a much-needed sense of perspective and a healthy dose of appreciation for life. It is my hope that hearing of his courage and grace will offer you the same thing. Kyle and I continue to hang out, which consists of me sitting next to his bed and talking, watching his favourite YouTube videos, and just generally shooting the breeze. The ghosts continue to call on him. In fact, their nocturnal visits are becoming more frequent, which Kyle and his dad believe indicates that there aren’t too many days left ahead for him. Kyle and his family are my heroes. This remarkable young man taught me more over the space of a few visits than I could possibly have imagined. Since I told his story in my book “Haunted Healthcare,” numerous people have written to me and told me of how inspiring they find him to be. In the end, I suspect that will be his ultimate legacy — and what more could a brave man ask for?
Richard x
THE GHOSTS OF WAR BY MIKE COVELL
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he Second World War might have ended in 1945, but the tragedies of the past have left their marks which remain to this day. As an historian and a researcher, I had the pleasure of working on the WWII Project at the Hull History Centre, cataloguing and digitising thousands of pages from the period, to ensure that they are there for future generations. Then, I was approached to work on the popular show The Bombs that changed Britain, which was shown on BBC 2, and later on WWII Treasure Hunters, which aired on the History Channel. On each occasion I was asked to carry out more research into the period.
Working for the Hull Daily Mail I spent many months researching stories for the paper, including The Last Raid, about the last raid on Great Britain, and many other stories. I even worked with national newspapers on such articles as Hitler’s Plans to Invade Scarborough, and more recently about Skipsea being a target for post-war bombing. I find the period fascinating, but the stories connected to the sites are equally intriguing. I have heard time and time again from numerous ghost stories connected to locations in my home city of Kingston upon Hull, and further afield across Yorkshire, at sites related to WWII. Here are some of those stories.
ELLIS TERRACE On April 16th 1941 a parachute mine fell on the communal shelter, resulting in an estimated 200 injured, and a great number were reported killed. It is claimed that the resulting blast resulted in 500 people reporting that they were now homeless or missing. Different sources give different numbers, for example Terry Geraghty, in A North East Coastal Town, reports that the blast resulted in 60 deaths. Rev. Philip Graystone, in The Blitz on Hull, states that the blast resulted in only 40 deaths. East Yorkshire Local History Society bulletin, [Issues 4459, 1991, P. 8] states that 60 people were killed, and Blitz over Britain, Edwin Webb, John Duncan, John Walton, states that 50 people were killed in the blast.
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The following is a list, gleaned from official records compiled at the time, of the people that perished on the site of Ellis Terrace shelter, on April
NAME Benjamin Adamson Brian Adamson Sarah Adamson Emma Bowden Ethel Bowden
AGE 35 2 31 73 45 Gladys Louisa Dashwood Bowden 34 Kenneth Bowden 14 Samuel Bowden 47 Christiana Boylan 64 Hugh Boylan 62 Lottie Muriel Danby 48 William Danby 49 Hilda Lowson 26 Margaret Naomi Oaten 57 William Walter Oaten 58 Ada Omer 74 Annie Elizabeth Orange 68 Ann Eleanor Walker 66 Minnie Walker 61
ADDRESS____ 4 Ellis-terrace 4 Ellis-terrace 4 Ellis-terrace 12 Ellis-terrace 8 Ellis-terrace 12 Ellis-terrace 8 Ellis-terrace 8 Ellis-terrace 14 Ellis-terrace 14 Ellis-terrace 15 Ellis-terrace 15 Ellis-terrace 9 Ellis-terrace 1 Ellis-terrace 1 Ellis-terrace 5 Ellis-terrace 6 Ellis-terrace 7 Ellis-terrace 7 Ellis-terrace
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Those reported dying at their houses on Ellis Terrace
Name Age Address Died________ Clarence Richard Middleton 41 11 Ellis-terrace 11 Ellis-terrace Dennis Middleton 15 11 Ellis-terrace 11 Ellis-terrace Lucy Ann Ness 70 6 Ellis-terrace 6 Ellis-terrace Elsie Richardson 33 13 Ellis-terrace Studley-street John Richardson 42 13 Ellis-terrace Studley-street Charles Richard Shaw 27 16 Ellis-terrace 16 Ellis-terrace Those who died at Ellis Terrace who were from elsewhere in the city
Name Age Address Died________ Dorothy Spalding 16 1 Kingston Gardens, Kingston-street Ellis-terrace The Hull History Centre holds a file, [C TYA/11] which covers the air raid and features letters about incidents across Hull, it features a letter dated April 21st 1941 from Eastern command to Central Control which states: • Human remains have been found in the yard at East Hull Baths • Human remains have been found in front of East Hull Baths • Human remains have been found at the rear of 4 and 5 Ellis Terrace • Human intestines found at the rear of 4 and 5 Ellis Terrace • Human remains found at 9 Ellis Terrace • Human remains found at 4 Ellis Terrace • Human jaw found on roof of property on Franklin Street • Human scalp found at 6 Ellis Terrace
The site of Ellis Terrace as it stands today. No plaque, memorial, or sign post to testify to one of the worst tragedies in Hull’s history. Photograph (c) Mike Covell.
Another document in the file, marked “Secret” features a list of those properties that were totally destroyed on the April 16th 1941 raid on Hull, featured on the list is the following, H o l d e r n e s s - r o a d , E l l i s - t e r r a c e , n u m b e r s 1 , 2 , 3 , 4 , 5 , 6 , 7, 8 , 9 , 1 0 , 1 1 , 1 2 , 1 3 , 1 4 , 1 5 , 1 6 , 1 7, 1 8 . Several years ago, a friend of mine, who worked for a security firm, was heading home from West Hull along Holderness Road. It was April 16th and raining heavily. As he cycled through the Witham/ Holderness Road/Clarence Street/Dansom Lane junction he suffered a puncture. The hour was late, and it was long after the last bus, but the rain was heavy, and he decided to walk the last half a mile. As he walked down Holderness Road, he was getting colder and wetter so decided to shelter in the bus shelter opposite East Hull baths at the top of Studley Street which stands outside what is now an empty garage forecourt. The rain and wind were pretty strong at this point, so he decided to call his wife on the mobile to see if she would come and get him and put his bike on the car roof rack. She obliged but told him it would be about quarter of an hour or so before she would be there. He was fine with this and placing his bike against the back 64
of the bus shelter pulled his hood over his head and collar up to his ears. He noticed then that what he thought were women and children crying behind him and to the right. From the bus stop there is a brick building, part of the garage that sticks out and obstructs the view, so he moved closer to get a better look. Initially he thought that perhaps there had been an accident but turning around he saw nothing but the empty garage and forecourt that stands on the spot today. Now facing the cries, which were off about 20 feet in front and to the left, he could hear them growing and fading. He grabbed his bike and turned on one of the bikes headlamps, pushing the bike towards the sound expecting to find a mother and her children in the rain, and was ready to offer help or at the very least call someone to come and help them. As he edged closer the screams seemed to get louder, but despite the darkness, his bike light lit up the area and he could HAUN TED
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find nothing, but as he approached the cries reached a crescendo then stopped suddenly. They all ceased together at the same point, and he heard nothing more. He scanned the area with his bike light and finding nothing returned to the shelter of the bus stop. After a short while his wife turned up, he put his bike onto the roof rack, and they headed home where he told her what he had experienced. She was a little more switched on and being an East Hull lass told him about Ellis Terrace and the shelter but could not remember the finer details such as whether anyone had died, and what date it happened. When they contacted me, and I informed them of the date and fatalities they both turned a funny colour. From that point on my friend always carried a puncture repair kit and a pump attached to his bike and cycles just that little bit quicker as he reaches the site of the former tragedy.
SHELL MEX HOUSE
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he Shell Mex House incident, which was situated at the corner of Spring Bank and Ferensway was an A.R.P. Control Centre. A landmine came down on the building blowing it apart and killing several people. Among the dead was Dr. David Diamond, the Deputy Medical Officer, a young R.A.F. man, who was on leave and waiting in the building for his fiancé. Another fatality was that of P.C. Garton, who was on duty at the door of the building. After the explosion no trace of Garton could be found, just scraps of his uniform. The Shell Mex building, or at least what was left of it, after the air raid. The recovery truck of Robert Tarran, director of Tarran Industries and one of the biggest employers in Hull during the war can be seen on site at the doorway where P.C. Garton was stood.
This raid took place on the night of March 31st and April 1st 1941 from 20.22 until 00.51. Ferensway was badly hit, and it was reported that the A.R.P. Control had been badly damaged. Fifty-two people were killed, and 72 people injured. The raid also hit Freehold Street, Boulevard, Hedon Road, Prospect Street, and Priory Sidings. Monday, March 31st 1941 was the night on which the Control H.Q. was totally destroyed resulting in the loss of life and valuable war records. At 8-20 the sirens went, and the first flares dropped shortly afterwards. Just after 21.00 the first bomb dropped in East Hull. Flares, high explosives and land mines fell from the skies onto the streets of Hull. 200 casualties were registered, 50 deaths, 500 houses made uninhabitable, 2,000 damaged. Just after 22.15 a land mine fell outside the Shell Mex Buildings, on the Ferensway – Spring Bank corner. Among the dead were Dr. David Diamond, the Deputy Medical Officer, a young R.A.F. man, who was on leave and waiting in the building for his fiancé. Another fatality was that of P.C. Garton, who was on duty at the door of the building. After the explosion no trace of Garton could be found, just scraps of his uniform. A number of fire watchers on the roof were also killed. The roof collapsed, ceilings fell, cars were thrown through the air, fires broke out, and a part of the road was blown upright, but despite this, by dusk the following day, the A.R.P. Control was functioning again. Police Constable Robert Garton was 46 when he died on March 31st 1941. He was the son of Robert and Ada Garton of Beverley, and resided at 31 Ventor Street, Newland Avenue. He is listed as being killed at the junction of Ferensway and Pearson Street. David Diamond was 37 years old when he died on March 31st 1941. He was the D.P.H., M.R.C.P., Deputy Medical Officer of Health and resided at 112 Sunnybank. His wife was Nan Diamond, and he is listed as dying at the Control Centre, Ferensway.
Other fatalities recorded here during this raid at this location included,
Name
Age
20 Bramwell Butler 44 Ada Ann Carrington 62 Emma Howard 80 Annie Elizabeth Jennison 56 George Henry Jennison 62 Lillian Johnson 37 Geoffrey Wood 11 Joyce Wood 14 Mavis Wood 7 Susan Wood 38 Phyllis Evelyn Bayton
Address
Location of Death__________
87 Argyle-street 51 Watt-street 16 Pearson-street 63 Pearson-street 35 Pearson-street 35 Pearson-street 13 Spring-street 28 Pearson-street 28 Pearson-street 28 Pearson-street 28 Pearson-street
Ferensway Shelter Ferensway Shelter Firewatcher Ferensway Shelter Ferensway Shelter Ferensway Shelter Ferensway Shelter Ferensway Shelter Ferensway Shelter Ferensway Shelter Ferensway Shelter Ferensway Shelter
The official files show a great number of other fatalities in Hull between March 31st and April 1st 1941. Among the official files, is one marked TYA/9, which features a description of the discovery of a pile of human flesh recovered on nearby Spring Street! Another section of the file features the following information, Date: 31/3/41 time: 23-21. Control wrecked by direct hit, Dr. Diamond found killed. Controller and control set up at University. Two things struck me about this file, the matter of fact report that the central control department had been destroyed, and the fact that they had quickly relocated to another site and continued through the night. In late 2012 I was lecturing on Hull’s Ghostly Myths and Legends when afterwards I was informed that the Crown House, situated on the plot of land on Ferensway between Ferensway, Spring Bank, and Pearson Street. I was told that the cellar area was haunted, and as such the staff would only descend into the depths in pairs. I asked whether anyone had seen anything and was told that a man had been seen but he always seemed to be in the shadows. This, at least to me, sounded very much like the Debenhams case but I was intrigued and decided to investigate a little further. Days later I was told of several other eyewitnesses who had seen similar things. I was given their contact details and chased them up, and sure enough, they also told me that it was a man seen in the shadows, but this time they told me a few more details. The cellar had two stairwells that were no longer in use, the stairs were made from concrete, and by all accounts came from the street level into the building. The weird thing is, if you went up the stairs the top was blocked off almost as if they were from another building. The eyewitnesses reported seeing a man, dressed in black trousers, with black boots, walking up the stairs and vanishing into the ceiling above. They thought he was either a police officer or military man. Could this latter apparition be Police Constable Robert Garton?
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BOYES / SAVOY CINEMA The last air raid on Great Britain took place over Hull on March 17th 1945. The air raid was sounded at 21.35 hours, with the plane finally dropping bombs at 21.45 hours on March 17th 1945. Traffic was stopped on Holdernessroad with diversions taking place down Barnsley-street, Victor-street, and Severn-street, which at the time was open and not closed as it is today. Morale was described as good, but after the sirens were sounded the pubs and cinema began to empty into Holderness-road. It was reported that shop fronts between Holland-street and Morrill-street were damaged, and some damage was sustained on Sherburn-street. The plane flew from the N.W. to the S.E. and when over East Hull came down low and slow, not, as the story claims, along Holderness-road. Pieces of bomb shrapnel were found on Nornabell-street and Barnsley-street. The crowd grew wild after the attack, and one man was arrested for being drunk and disorderly. They were angry at the lack of help that attended the scene. The injured were taken from the scene to Severn-street and later removed, via ambulance, to the various hospitals. The first ambulance arrived without stretchers, the second without blankets. The dead at Albert Mortuary and Hull Royal Infirmary equalled 10, with 7 adult males, 2 adult females and 1 female child. Injured, who were treated at East Park Casualty Station, included 16 males, and 12 females. Unexploded bombs were found at 17 Sherburn-street and on Holderness-road opposite Woolworths (present day Lloyds TSB) 8 shop fronts on Holderness-road were damaged, 1 house on Holderness-road was damaged, 17 houses on Sherburn-street were damaged, and 1 house in Barnsley-street was damaged One of the most shocking details was what the street looked like, with the official report stating that “Blood on the street had been sanded over.” The deceased were taken to Albert-avenue Mortuary, they are as follows,
Name
Age
Address____________________
Walter Coggle 60 Stanley Duncan 21 William Greenacre 58 Lillian Martin 41 George Martin 33 James Ollerenshaw 47 John McCloud 73 John Reed 71 Ada Steels 36 Brian Wells 8 Ernest Wells 13 Pamela Winter 2
4 South View, Sherburn-street 144 Maybury-road 7 [illegible] street 11 Cromwell-ave, Victor-street 11 Cromwell-ave, Victor-street 1 Carholm-villas, Rensburg-street 36 Severn-street 2 South View, Sherburn-street 46 Aberdeen-street 43 Rosmead-street 43 Rosmead-street 34 Rensburg-street
In 1940 it was decided that R.A.F. Catfoss should have a satellite airfield, and as such land was acquired in Lissett for the construction of an airfield. Construction began on three concrete runways, two hangers, 36 dispersals and a watch tower. The airfield was officially opened in February 1943, and on February 28th 1943 158 Squadron arrived, a squadron made up of Halifax bombers. Practice began on the airfield and by March 11/12 the squadron took off for their first mission. Over two years the squadron had participated in 150 missions, with the loss of 144 aircraft and 851 men. This might seem like a high number, and while it is a tragic window into the life of a British bomber squadron, the entire number of flights by the squadron was staggering. During its operational life 158 Squadron dispatched 5,366 aircraft. During the period when the airfield was operational a number of things happened that left it with the reputation that it was haunted but the strangest of these was the sighting of a phantom bomber that seemed to appear before ill-fated bomber missions. Its appearance usually signalled the death of a member of the 158 Squadron, so much so that it became known locally as “The Reaper Bomber.” On October 22nd 1943 Lissett airfield was a hive of activity when 20 bombers from the squadron were dispatched in a nocturnal raid against Kassel, which was part of a 569-bomber raid. The raid was, however, a disaster, with one of the Lissett bombers, LW268, piloted by Sergeant Glydon, lost control when a tyre burst. The plane crashed at the end of the runway, but luckily the crew managed to escape, but the resulting explosion from the bomb load meant that returning bombers had to land at Catfoss. The raid itself was also plagued with disaster, when bad weather and icing made many of the bombers turn back, including five from 158 Squadron. The end result saw 42 bombers lost, two of which belonged to 158 Squadron and flown from Lissett. These two planes were flown by Flight Sergeant Marshall, and his seven crew, and Sergeant Cipriani, and his seven crew.
Today the site has been taken over by a store called Boyes, which replaced the earlier cinema, and since it has opened staff, management and security guards have witnessed a tall man dressed all in black. He has been seen on the shop floor after hours, silently gliding around the store, but when approached he vanishes!
The memorial at Lissett to 158 Squadron
LISSETT Lissett stands 6 miles (10 km) south of Bridlington and 13 miles (21 km) north-east of Beverley. The village is known for being home of R.A.F. Lissett, which was home to the Halifax 158 Squadron. Today the site is a wind turbine site, but by the roadside of Gransmoor Road which runs between Lissett and Gransmoor.
Remains of many of the old R.A.F. Buildings are still dotted around the site.
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# 1 0 Y e a r s O f H a u n t e d M a g a z i n e
C R E D I T S EDITOR-IN-CHIEF: Paul Stevenson @hauntedmagazine paul@hauntedmagazine.co.uk
DESIGNER: Andy Soar @thehauntedguy andy@hauntedmagazine.co.uk
WRITING TALENT IN HYPOTHETICAL ORDER:
James Pykett, Sam Bennetts, Richard Estep, Vicky Grant, Mike Covell, Amanda R. Woomer, Miki York, Hubert Hobux, Katie Waller, Lucy Willgress, Nicky Alan, Morgan Knudsen, Penny Griffiths-Morgan, Clare Burrows, Danny Moss, Kristen Wheeler and Barrie John THANKS TO: ‘Phil’, Parasearch Radio, Paul Blakemore, Dom Coyote, Bambos Georgiou, Mychailo Kazybrid, Spook-Eats, UK Haunted, Auschwitz Memorial Muzeum, Jolene Lockwood, The Haunted Hunts, Tatton Old Hall, ‘Kyle’, Old Canal Inn, NJ and The Exorfist House SPECIAL THANKS TO: Our HauntedLIVE mates: Simon Powell, James Pykett and Jason Wall “the best 60% we could ever wish for”
Dom Coyote - WE CAN TIME TRAVEL @ Shoreditch Town Hall. Photo: Paul Blakemore (c) Dr Queer courtesy of Bambos Georgiou (script) & Mychailo Kazybrid (art) (c) 2018 HAUNTED ON THE WEB: www.hauntedmagazine.co.uk Facebook: www.facebook.com/groups/HauntedDigitalMagazine www.facebook.com/HauntedDigitalMagazine
SEE YOU FOR ISSUE 23... 23 is one of the most commonly cited prime numbers - a number that can only be divided by itself and one. Charles Darwin's Origin of Species was published in 1859 - 1+8+5+9 = 23. The Hiroshima bomb was dropped at 8.15am - 8+15= 23. The terrorist attacks on America on 11 September 2001. The figures in the date (9+11+2+0+0+1) add up to 23. Each parent contributes 23 chromosomes to the start of human life. The Qur'an was revealed in a total of 23 years to Prophet Muhammed. William Shakespeare was born in Stratford Upon Avon on 23 April 1564. He died 52 years later on the same day. 23 is the title of a poem by the occultist Aleister Crowley. Julius Caesar was thought to have been stabbed 23 times. The Latin alphabet has 23 letters. The Knights Templars had only 23 Grandmasters.
HAUNTED MAGAZINE IS A DEAD GOOD PUBLISHING LTD PRODUCTION Company Number: 08446465 www.deadgoodpublishing.com HAUNTED MAGAZINE WILL RETURN W ith Issue 23 IN DIGITAL . IN PRINT. #dontbenormal BE PARANORMAL