The Birthday Cake

I am not quite sure where to start on this one…. I guess the beginning is always a good place – at least for some background information and to explain how it all started before moving on to the basic facts.  Didn’t we learn in school, or somewhere, that a good story always answers a few questions -- the Who, What, When, Where, Why and How of it all?  Ah – it’s the good olde Five Ws and one H.  Sometimes, though, the answers to life questions are a little more complicated than that.

It all started about two weeks ago now when my son, Jess, was planning a small birthday party in celebration of a special birthday for his wife, Carolyn. He had invited nearby family and a few close friends, found a convenient place to gather, ordered a cake, etc.  It all seemed to be coming together smoothly and calmly. You know – a normal special birthday.  That changed quickly when Jess and Carolyn stopped at their local Kroger in Plainfield, Indiana to pick up the birthday cake that he had ordered for the celebration.

On the top of the box was a note explaining that a woman, a total stranger, who signed the note, "Toni, Tyler’s Mom", had already paid for their cake.  She explained that the gift of the Birthday Cake was a gesture in memory of her son, Tyler, who would have been 35 this May. Tyler had just finished his final year of training with the Franciscan Health Family Medicine Residency Program and was soon to join a medical practice when he died unexpectedly five years ago. Apparently, every year this loving mom and his family celebrate his life with some type of random act of kindness. This year it was the gift of a cake. Her personal message ended with: “Please enjoy, make special memories, and hug your children and loved ones tight.”  (pause for time to grab Kleenex…)  This kind gesture and message did not go unnoticed by my daughter-in-law or by my son. Admittedly they cried together... both deeply touched by this whole thing … as am I … as is everyone I have told about it.  Actually, this gesture and message and Carolyn’s Thank You were noticed by a lot of people … and now you are reading about it as well.

This is what happened next. Jess posted the story on his Facebook page to immediate and positive response. Carolyn posted a heartfelt Thank You message, along with a photo of the anonymous note, on a local chat page on Facebook hoping that this woman, Toni,  might somehow see it and realize how much this message and kindness were appreciated. I think the page is called the “Town of Plainfield Chatter”.  Anyway -- that’s when things started to get crazy.  Within a very short time, Carolyn's Facebook post had received over 1800 “Likes”, been shared over 50 times and received hundreds of positive comments.  Recognizing who had written the note, a friend called Tyler’s Mom and thus she was able to read all the wonderful and supportive comments generated by her kindness. All of this turned out to be another kind of gift – one offered back to her and her family by many – mostly total strangers.  But – this is not the end of the story.  And this is how I know so many details about this lovely woman, her son, Tyler, and her family...

The whole exchange began to take on a life of its own.  The story was picked up by three TV Stations in nearby Indianapolis as well as by at least two radio stations.  Tyler’s Mom, located somehow, was interviewed on WTHR TV where the whole “thing” was the trending story of the day on the 18^th.  Carolyn provided the background story and photos of the cake, notes, etc. The segment was actually several minutes long. I was able to watch it through a link to the live broadcast that Jess texted to me.  Sometimes technology is quite nice. Other stations posted stories about the whole “happening” on their Facebook pages as well – expanding the coverage. # Mom paying for a stranger’s birthday cake goes viral.

As Carolyn wrote in her Thank You note -- how wonderful to be reminded of what really matters in these crazy times. It isn’t about the cake at all really.  It is about kindness and about the importance of people significant in all of our lives.  It is about the seemingly “small” things that really matter in big ways.  I guess another thing is that it reminds us that most human-interest stories go way beyond the answers to the basic questions – the Five Ws and one H.  This story is no different. These stories are ways in which we can connect with others.  We can focus easily on what we have in common rather than on what may divide us. We realize anew that what are sometimes thought of as the small things are, in fact, the big things. We are reminded of the important things in LIFE.

This is not the end of this story either. Carolyn lost her Mom a short time ago.  It has been a most difficult time for her and her family.  The thing is that her Mom's birthday is coming up on June 15^th.  I wonder who will get the free birthday cake that she plans to purchase anonymously in memory of her Mom?  Whoever it is, I just know that the gesture and whatever message she includes will be appreciated. 

It is easy to get caught up in all the challenges of our lives today – especially as we begin to emerge from over a year of fears, isolation and varying hardships. How lovely to be reminded of the kindness in this world and to step out of the rat race and back into the world of what really matters.   …and just one more thing…  my Mom used to say to me and I have said to my children and grandchildren…. “Be kind to others – always.  You never know what they may have been through right before your world overlaps with theirs if only for a moment. You can make a difference."

It all started with a Birthday cake with short note attached to it, followed by a heart-felt thank you note posted in a chat room. It was a simple thing really – an exchange between two people – total strangers. Countless lives have been touched … including mine and now yours. Feel free to share. 

Happy Birthday in Heaven, Tyler.  Happy Birthday, wonderful Carolyn.

                (This was to have been the end of this story… but…)

Update... Carolyn has been contacted by Nexstar Media Group, Inc. which is the largest owner of local TV Stations across the country including affiliates of the larger national networks.  Not sure what all that will come to.  But, listen to this --- a Producer of the Kroger National TV Network requested an interview.  This is a company that makes videos and commercials for Kroger nationwide.  The interview was scheduled at the local Plainfield Kroger. Carolyn actually met Tyler's Mom, Toni, in person for the first time as they were interviewed together. This is an amazing experience for everyone involved... and it continues....  

Further Update: Add People magazine.  See People.com for Article entitled: “Woman Pays for Strangers Cake at Indiana Grocery Store in Honor of Son’s 35^th Birthday”.  

And then there are the Apple News, The Washington Post, and the CBS and FOX News Networks that have all made contact with Carolyn ... and ... the Canadian journalist, Managing Editor of Goodable.org who asked her permission to share her story on their Twitter account.  And so it goes…. The world is hungry to share the good in people.  Indeed....

Conclusion: "Unexplainable, but interesting...."

 In conclusion…

The search of deeds and census records coming to an end, the focus of research moved in part to maps – maps of migration routes for early settlers and Indian trails.  Along with these considerations are written reports of the Andaste Giants to consider and their possible relationship to a burial mound of extremely large bones found near Elgin, PA – just a few miles from my property as the crow flies.  Some of the research gets a bit carried away on this subject …  even considering the possibility of horned extraterrestrials.  Hmmm…  As interesting as that theory is, I am thinking that the Andaste were very tall Native Americans, perhaps with deer antlers attached to their head dresses, but what do I know?  The first Europeans were very short, after all.  Even 6’ would seem giant.  But I digress….  Who knows where I will end up?  This research leads a person in multiple directions at once, but there are some complications….

There isn’t much information on this little pocket of NW PA. Even today it is relatively sparsely populated.  (I must mention here that I like being the only vehicle at the stop light.)  Most of the early settlers’ migration activity was further South around the Pittsburgh area or Northwest along the shores of Lake Erie.  That is why the discovery of The Forbidden Path (Native American) is so exciting.  On one map I came across, it looks like it goes right through what is now Wayne Twp. and - most exciting to me – directly across my small parcel of land. The Forbidden Path was supposedly a shortcut and secret trail for Native Americans – most likely Iroquois – who were in a hurry traveling west for whatever reason.  Their path traveled through and along the southern edge of Iroquois country and, for their security purposes, use of the trail was forbidden to other unfriendly or undesirable Indian tribes and … especially forbidden to all white men. The penalty for being caught on the trail is reported to have been death – being burned at the stake or roasted.  Yes… you read that correctly.  Roasted. The Iroquois were serious about and possessive of their shortcut.  Obviously not all Native Americans appreciated sharing a Thanksgiving table with the White Man.

To summarize a bit and to continue on the Forbidden Path -- online research resulted in many interesting tidbits of lore and history. In addition to the findings of giant prehistoric bones of the Andaste Indians mentioned earlier, the tales of The Forbidden Path … and the activities of Mad Anthony Wayne in making the North West Territory safe for settlers, this part of Erie Co. is very near to what was considered, at that time, to be the frontier and was heavily populated by various Native American tribes.  The Native American tribe that is the most interesting to me and further inland than those who lived and hunted closer to the Lake Erie shoreline are the Iroquois who are closely linked to the Forbidden Path previously mentioned.  To be clear though, I have also seen maps of the Forbidden Path that show it running in what is now New York State as well - sort of bypassing what is now Wayne Twp.  Bummer.  Apparently, there has been a bit of a feud between New York State and the Commonwealth of Pennsylvania, both of which like to claim the path.  Pennsylvania, at one time, even had those fancy historical road signs designating its location.  Historians disagree as to its exact location—some thinking that NY Route 5 pretty much follows its course.  Others place it a bit further south moving into Pennsylvania through what is now the Bradford area and then continuing to head west and passing through Wayne Twp. – right across my bit of land.  For my purposes here I am going to claim it.  I checked with two of my New York State relatives and they are totally okay with this. Nothing I have found totally disproves it and, placing it, at least in part in Pennsylvania, explains why everyone who has investigated my property speaks of a strong presence of Native Americans… and… the passing through part also supports their opinion that entities here on my land are here on their way to someplace else. The two natural spring ponds on the property would have made it an attractive stopover place as well.  I also think this theory nicely explains the strong smell of tobacco from time to time. 

In summary of this series – it is difficult to find reasons to explain the unexplainable. The movement along the Forbidden Path predates the movement along the Underground Railroad (early to mid-1800’s), but both are interesting to consider.   Also – it is not surprising that there is not a lot of information on our small section of the country that would help explain anything … settlers tended to use more established routes in heading west.  The government even tried to encourage settlement of what was then the nearby Northwest Territory by offering land grants to soldiers in payment for their service during the American Revolution, but this was met with limited success. It wasn’t really until the railroad ran through this area and the first oil well was built in the late 1850’s (Drakes Well in Titusville, PA) that settlers found their way here in any number. So in conclusion – I simply do not have any definitive explanations. I am okay with that.

I have come to the realization now that I am nearing the end of this project that there is something about this land that calls to me.  For the past 50 years of my life, I have lived in four different homes all within less than 1/8 of a mile radius – most less than that – more like a few hundred feet.  I am hoping to live here for the rest of my life.  It feels right.  What is it that draws me here? What are the layers of human life that are held within this land? What is it that makes it so easy to put up with the taps, smells, bangs and creepy occurrences that happen here? What is it that grounds me here within such a sense of belonging?  Is it that it seems comfortable to be in one place after moving around so much during the first twenty years of my life or – is it something else?

I have found no conclusive or provable answers to any of the questions regarding the haunting of this land.  Not one. This writing, after all, is not to be a source of accurate information for history buffs… if there even is such a thing as accurate recording of history. This writing is to be a record of what I have found and of what I am thinking.  Point of interest -- actually, most of the written accounts of this area that I have found are personal journal accounts – each with its own unique perspective and point of view. Is that the “truth” of history? One must always consider who is telling the story, but, ultimately, what do we know of them?

Obviously, I cannot say with guaranteed accuracy what all may have happened in the past on this land that may be “tapping” in on the present – only speculation and gut feelings.  Sometimes that just has to be enough.  Native Americans on the move West? Runaway Slaves running North to freedom? Both? Spirits of those with whom I shared part of my life? A portal to another dimension? In answer to those and to other questions that have come up in this process … who knows?  I tried…   and it was fun. I originally began this research journey strictly for my family, but then decided to share….  These days a lot people seem to be interested in the unexplainable. A lot of people enjoy a good mystery.  Perhaps these kinds of the unexplainable but interesting things offer a pleasant diversion.  It seems obvious to me that we can all use a bit of diversion now and again. 

One last minute addition...  while we are on the subject, I, for one, would like to know what fell somewhere in my house at 1:54 this very morning, waking me out of a sound sleep. After a thorough walk through in the dark, I cannot find a single thing out of place. Maybe once the sun comes up....  And here I thought I had taken all the things off the walls that don't seem to want to stay there. Silly me. 

Having read all this rambling -- anyone out there have a theory? I am listening.

Part V: "Unexplainable, but interesting..."

 

Hoping to discover something that will explain the unexplainable…

The research into my small parcel of land began with my contacting a clerk at the office of the Recorder of Deeds of Erie County, Pennsylvania (recorder@eriecounty.PA.gov).  The clerk I reached was most efficient and helpful – sending me, for a small fee, 39 pages of deed information on the landowners through time as far back as 1874.  I then took the landowners’ names and moved to the United States Census records available on Ancestry.com. These records, although at times sketchy and somewhat hard to follow, do indicate names, occupations, etc. There were other difficulties in this research process as well. For example, the 1890 Census of this area was totally destroyed by fire. There was also courthouse fire that destroyed all books, papers and land records of Erie Country before March 23, 1823. I was able to discover, however, that few of the land owners after1823 actually lived on what is now my land.  I have no way of knowing about inhabitants before that.  It was, as far as I can tell, land used solely for business. The owners’ occupations vary.

One landowner is listed as a florist, nurseryman, garden market farmer (1874); the next was a carpenter who passed the land onto heirs who sold it in 1922.  For a short time after that, the land was owned by a butcher and meat marketer which explains the ominous looking equipment in my little red barn which was originally a slaughter house apparently. An electrician and then a Christmas tree farmer/furniture store owner follow – thus explaining the boxes of receipts in the attic of the little red barn.  From that point on was my Dad who, was a car dealer, but liked also to think of himself as a gentleman farmer - owning and pasturing horses and cows on the property.  (His cousins owned a livestock auction and he would summer cows, feeding them well, until they were ready to become milking stock on dairy farms.  The horses were for fun.  He rode them until he could not, and then he enjoyed watching them.)

From what I have been able to determine, there was no home on the property until it was purchased by Lloyd (Dutch) Meerdink and his wife, Gerry, in1947.  (I am thinking that many of my local readers will remember the Meerdinks fondly.) Dutch and Gerry converted the milk house in front of the large barn into a home by adding a huge addition.  In addition, they had a nice furniture store in the upstairs of the large barn there, and also a Christmas tree farm in what is now just pasture land and the land on which my home was built in 2001.  My Dad and Mom purchased the land and home from the Meerdinks in 1969 – adding yet another addition to the original milk house and having a basement dug under part of the house.  What a mess that was.   A fun side note … for years after they purchased the land, my Dad would hang three hand saws on the fence and let people cut their own "untrimmed" Christmas Trees for a couple of dollars which buyers would deposit in a mailbox that he had attached to the fence near the saws. It was an “honor system” that worked flawlessly.  Although I was in college by this time, when I was home for the Christmas break, I do remember families trudging through the snow to find a tree.  What used to be used as a furniture store in the upstairs of the large barn, my parents converted into a party barn complete with a bar, bumper pool, ping pong table, table shuffleboard, television, and even a bathroom that my mom decorated to look like an outhouse.  They did love to host barn parties.  My sister and I sold a small portion of the land, the large barn and home to the current owners a year or so after my parents had passed. And – so ends a sweeping summary of the usage of the land as far back as I could go with the early records available.

As interesting as the landowner deeds are, I did not find anything in the landowner history that might explain unusual happenings on seemingly haunted land.  I then contacted eriecountyhistory.org.    The only helpful thing they offered was the detail that they had no records of settlement of the Wayne Twp. area any earlier than 1795.  There is, of course, a lot of information on the Waterford area being so significantly historical and on the city of Erie.  I may make an appointment to visit their archives at some point – post the damncovid.

So it was that after sorting through deeds and census records, I began to research maps, personal journals of people who lived in the area throughout time as well as other online historical information.  It is there that I found very interesting tidbits of information with potential for forming theories about the haunted land. More on the maps, personal journals and online historical accounts to come… some of the info is rather amazing… especially the information on the Andaste tribe of Native Americans …. (I have learned a lot in this process.)

 

Note:  After contacting one of their nieces, (Hi, Paula …) I may have more information to add to that of the Meerdinks.  Apparently at some point, there was a small cabin on the land as well.  It would have been located on the eastern edge of the property as best as I can tell. It disappeared sometime between 1947 and 1969 - perhaps when the Hillcrest Drive area was developed. There is nothing remaining today to indicate its existence, but at some point, maybe I will be able to find a photo or something.  Hope you all find this as interesting as I do.  It is just one small bit of history of what is now known as Northwestern Pennsylvania, but is packed with the untold stories of many. I am thinking that is the case with all land ... not just in Wayne Twp., Erie County, Pennsylvania , but ... throughout the world. 

Next week:  the conclusion of “Unexplainable, but interesting…”

Part IV: Unexplainable, but interesting...

So – if you have been following this series about the unexplainable, but interesting, you probably have some idea of why I felt compelled to do some research on the land on which I currently live.  I want to figure out what is going on.  But before I can tell you about that research, I have to share with you that all of my family except for my 23-year-old grandson who had to work, were with me for most of this past week (party on), and they all mentioned things that they felt I should have included in my recounting of events.  For example, my daughter, who has really been in the thick of things with all of the activity here, agreed that I should include the recounting of the crying baby – so I am going to do that now. 

One of the times that the paranormal investigators were here, we went to my small barn – after dark, of course.  Darkness is apparently a part of the “fun” of paranormal investigation. I find it a bit creepy. Along with the investigators and me were my good friend who happens to be a medium, and I think my daughter was with us as well.  I know for sure that she was there earlier in the evening when other monumental things were going on. Anyway -- while in the barn the ghost hunters were running an EVP recorder to try to capture EVP’s (Electronic Voice Phenomenon). These are unexpected voices/sounds that are not readily heard by the living -- unless you are special.  Anyway -- activity was high in one of the horse stalls in particular.  My friend and I, lanterns in hand, were waiting quietly in another part of the barn, when she said: “Ask them if they have a baby with them.” Long story short, when the hunters checked the EVP recorder later on – there was a baby crying and then my friend’s voice saying -- you guessed it – “Ask them if they have a baby with them.” My friend has special gifts for sure.  So --- just add that occurrence to the list of the unexplainable, but interesting. Do you see now why I feel compelled to figure out what is going on with this land? (Must mention that activity was ramped up a bit while my family was visiting this past week -- even one of their dogs had a couple of rough nights. One never knows what it will be. Picture a trembling Basset Hound.

Moving on…

A bit of background info -- I had my home built on this land in 2001 and, at that time my parents lived on another portion of the land where they had lived from the late 1960s until their passing in February 2005. Inheriting the original parcel of land, I eventually had it subdivided after which I sold a small parcel of the original land that included my parents’ home and barn. One of the visiting mediums I mentioned earlier stood in my yard looking across the pasture at what had been my parents’ barn, and we had a hard time getting her to focus on my land.  She went on and on about how haunted their big white barn is -- going into some detail about the mischievous young boy who liked to hang out there.  I don’t think the current owners know the full extent of the goings on on my property, but apparently, they may have their own “activities”. Perhaps I will share the results of my land research with them if it amounts to anything.   Perhaps not.  This may be a good time to mention again that at another time ... another of the visiting mediums told me, with a most serious expression on her face, not to dig too deeply in my sun garden.  I have never felt quite the same way about weeding that garden and when Luna, my grand dog, digs there, I find myself holding my breath. I can go without knowing some things. Sometimes choosing ignorance is okay.

To continue …

My hope is to figure out who is passing through my home and to find a way to politely ask them to stop tapping and grabbing people on their way to wherever it is they are going. That familiarity is unnerving to those who are not used to it and is sometimes embarrassing to me as a hostess.  Oh – and also, I would like to figure out how to get them to stop smoking and stinking up my house while they are here. Quite frankly I don’t think that is too much to ask.  They can smoke and do whatever else they want to do outside.  At times I find myself wondering if they even know that they are passing through my home.  Then again – they must know if they pause to tap my granddaughter on the head, to grab sleeping people, or to rattle hangers in a clothes closet… not to mention that some think there is a harmless old fellow who just sort of camps out in the basement. That gives one pause.  Think about it. Sometimes these entities even talk to people.  I may skip telling you about all of those episodes. It’s a bit much.

The thing about research into the history of this land is that there are interesting fingers of information that push one in a lot of different directions – each one holding perhaps a tidbit of information that could be an important piece of the puzzle. It is sometimes a bit of a jumble -- difficult to untangle. Who were these early people in what is now Wayne Twp., Erie County, Pennsylvania?  Can they give me a clue as to what is going on here?  Earlier I mentioned the Beaver Dam Columbus Turnpike and the Abolitionist activity with the Underground Railroad.  Turnpike Road is very close to my land – easily within a few minutes’ walk.  It is hard not to speculate that some travelers may have made their way to the natural springs on my property as they headed north to freedom.  No evidence… just speculation. Perhaps there is a type of residual haunting here. I just don’t know….

 

But – there are other possibilities to consider as well.

Part III: Unexplainable, but interesting...

I look back now to my growing up as a mix of moving a lot and of unusual experiences mixed in with a lot of normal.   Maybe the early not so normal experiences were, in some way, a preparation for what was to come. Time passes. The business of life can sometimes be a bit overwhelming and one tunes out some things. It’s a matter of survival. Moving now to more current and in many ways better and easier times -- I started to notice “out of the ordinary things” a few years after I had settled into my new home which I had built in 2001 and where I still live now twenty never boring years later.  A case in point -- one grandson, when very young, was talking about things that he had no way of knowing – odd things really.  I asked him how he knew whatever it was that he was talking about, and he told me that my friend had told him – the one I had the photo of on my dresser at that time.  Now that was understandable to me as I had lost a good friend a few years prior to my grandson’s arrival, and it only made sense to me that he might be communicating with him is some way.  Further -- I think this friend might also have been communicating with my granddaughter even before she could talk. She would look up, smile, listen and laugh at someone no one else could see.  It was later, when she could talk, that one day, reaching her limit in patience, she blurted out to a someone/something no one else could see, “Stop tapping me on the head!”  It was at that "enough now" moment that I decided to begin paranormal research of the property including my barn and on what has become known rather tentatively, yet fondly, among family members, as “the creepy corner” inside the house itself.  

And so, it began – a series of mediums, psychics and a team of ghost hunters who liked to come to my land, barn and home to test new equipment.  Why?  – because there is so much activity here. (Actually, I think the ghost hunters would prefer to be called Paranormal Investigators. Sorry.  The ghost hunter thing just slipped out.) Anyway – they think my property is a wonderful place for exploring the unknown. For me that is a dubious compliment, but we have had rather amazing experiences in my home and barn…and on my land – especially in one garden where one medium told me not to dig too deeply. (How creepy is that?). Conformation of this is that one of my dearest friends, who has the gift of intuition and mediumship, has told me more than once that when she comes into my home, she doesn’t know if “they” are all waiting for her, or if she brings them with her.  (How does one respond to something like that?)

Activity is sometimes so commonplace that my granddaughter, for a period of time, would mention casually that Nanny (that’s me) has a portal in her kitchen. That is how some of the expert opinions explained it all.  The was a time when my granddaughter tended to speak of this to visitors when they dropped by. These people were often total strangers to her, but I guess she thought they should know - especially if they were standing on the spot that one investigator had designated as the portal area. (I think of that often when standing there while making toast.) Imagine, for a moment if someone indicated that you were standing on a portal.... Anyway -- she would mention it as if the portal were a point of interest like one might point out hand painted wallpaper or even something more commonplace and not at all exceptional. I actually have no idea how many people she shared this with. Eventually I mentioned to her that some people may find the idea of a portal to be a bit unnerving … that perhaps we should keep the portal business within the family for now. Portals are not good Show and Tell topics.  She gets it now a few years later – now that she is a grown-up 10-year-old.  For a while though -- after our "talk", she whispered the world portal when talking about Nanny’s house – much like my Mom used to whisper the word cancer.  What can I say? I have to admit that I did find the whole thing amusing.  Both my nearby grandkids take it pretty much in stride these days. They have grown up with it. Things have been relatively calm of late and the last time there was an unexplainable loud noise in the kitchen, my grandson and I just looked at each other and shrugged.  It was a bonding, but “there they go again” kind of moment.

Anyway – the consensus of the experts I invited to explore the situation -- mediums (3), psychic (1) and the ghost busters (an entire team, who came several times) is that there is nothing negative or dangerous going on here.  The "entities" (is that a euphemism?) seem to be passing through (perhaps sometimes utilizing the aforementioned portal in my kitchen). It is the land, actually) that is the basis of activity. Part of my home just happens to be sitting on that land.  There is also a lot of activity in my small barn. Lucky me.  Further -- the collective opinion is that there is a strong Native American presence as well as other spirits hanging around, but it is important, I think, not to discount the possibility of a residual haunting presence of runaway slaves. Whoever they are - I live with them.  They don’t bother me at all except for the pipe tobacco smell now and again. I don't like anyone smoking in my house. The occasional tapping, knocking, bells ringing, or gentle brush on my face that feels like spider webs is nothing I can’t handle. I do find that guests are sometimes not so easy-going about the taps which, sometimes, are more grabby than tappy. I don't get a lot of company.

Things that bother me more are of an electrical nature like the TV coming on in the middle of the night, but that has only happened once… so far.  It was startling - blaring actually. I thought there were people arguing in my living room, and I didn’t invite them. Scary.  Then again there is the fact that my son, when visiting one time, refused to sleep in the back bedroom after a rather impressively firm grab on a leg.  Now that he brings his dogs, (yes – plural wagging tails), things seem to have quieted down in that room… the hangers in the one closet have stopped rattling and nothing has grabbed him in the dark --- recently.  Point of interest -- that same grabbing thing happened to my nephew’s wife. They haven’t been back to visit since then. Actually - now that I think of it, they did come back once since then, but they stayed at the local Cobblestone Inn.  Anyway -- the level of activity varies.  Another grandson once mentioned that it sounded like someone was preparing an entire meal in the kitchen in the middle of the night. The sounds woke him up and kept him awake. He hasn't come for a visit in quite a while. 

These kind of things affect people differently. Denial is real.  My son-in-law was, until a couple of years ago, a total sceptic.  Then he heard voices in the room near the kitchen where he was washing up a few things, and he realized that everyone was outside – including the kids. Then when these “entities” leaned in and began to whisper in his ear, he joined the rest of us outside on the patio -- immediately, and of course, had to share the story of his conversion from a sceptic to a believer -- complete with his wonderful sense of humor. He is an outstanding story teller. His goose bumps were most impressive.  He says now though that nothing whispered to him, but that is not how I remember it.  My daughter-in-law, however, is still a bit on skeptical side, even though I have seen her react to a presence. Actually, everyone in the room saw her turn to look as if she had been tapped on the shoulder. I think I may have heard her say "What?". Those kinds on taps are pretty routine “stuff” around here.   Those in the “fam” are quite used to it. We hope that she will join the rest of us soon.  Her level of hope for that? Well - maybe not so much, but she is a good sport about the whole "thing".

 

But – there is more…. 

  

Part II

 

… to continue …

There was a certain level of ESP or telepathy that I witnessed between my Mom and my sister. I observed this tender, and at times poignant connection, my entire life.  They knew what the other was feeling… and thinking. They finished each other’s sentences. They communicated with their eyes.  This ESP was a firm given in our family dynamic.  It was comfortable.  I didn’t realize that not everyone had that sort of communication somewhere in their lineage.  It’s a nice thing really. Wish I had paid closer attention.  Wish I could have figured out how it worked.  But there is more…

As far as other single incidents of the unexplainable go ... and I am not thinking of all of them at the moment … I have a couple of favorites.  They both occurred at the corner of Wayne Street and Columbus Avenue in Corry, PA in a home where I lived from age 8 to age 20. (It was in a house across the road from a home that was a part of the Underground Railroad… our section of the county having been a bit of an Abolitionist hot bed thanks to the good people of Beaver Dam, PA.   A slight digression here… runaway slaves are thought to have moved along what was called the Beaver Dam/Columbus Turnpike (currently Turnpike Road) and on toward Canada and freedom. I discovered this important tidbit of information when researching the small parcel of land that I own in Wayne Twp. PA (more on that later).  Anyway -- we came home from church one Sunday morning to our locked home only to find that someone/something had been sitting on the couch in the living room – reading the Sunday newspaper. It was spread out all over the place.  Now we know this was an intruder of some sort because my Mom would never have allowed anyone to read a newspaper while sitting on that couch.  Back in those days, newspaper ink smeared off on everything.  You could smell the ink and you needed to wash your hands after even a glance at the “funny papers” section. 

The second incident that comes to mind at this location was the case of the missing a sewing project.  The material, pinned to the pattern, cut and ready to sew, disappeared and then reappeared several years later.  I found it wrapped in an old towel in a built-in drawer in the attic of that home. Very weird.

Hmm – then moving to relatively current times….  These at home episodes call to mind the framed print of Santa Claus that has been missing now for over 15 years in the home where I currently live.  I wonder where and when that will be found?  Hope it is soon. I miss it.  It belongs on the mantle in the living room during the holiday time, or perhaps on my Mom’s easel for Christmas Eve celebrations.   Every year now for the past few years, I have offered an ever-increasing reward and mounted an in-home search – to no avail... even though I have to say that my grandkids who live nearby are outstanding snoops -- definitely of the highest caliber. I have trained them well.  I sometimes call them when I can't find something, and they usually know where it is. I love that about them. Anyway -- I have no doubt that Santa will miraculously show up when I least expect it. 

I sometimes wonder if the same mischievous presence that I recall from my days as a young child, then in the Wayne Street house and on to where I am now has moved with me from place to place all throughout my life.  To continue and to backtrack a bit – It occurred to me when I was a freshman in college that this Wayne Street house “presence” had gone to Allegheny College (Meadville, PA) with me Freshman year.  By then I had named it JJ, and was totally comfortable with it hanging around.  My roommate?  Not so much.  She left after freshman year.  She said it was because she didn’t get into the sorority she wanted, but I always thought that JJ might have had something to do with her departure.  She was particularly annoyed, perhaps freaked out is a more apt expression, when, for one thing, the window blinds would go up and down slowly -- by themselves.  When you are used to something, you tend to forget that certain things bother other people.  I honestly don’t recall much activity when I was finishing my undergraduate studies at Skidmore College, but then again, I seriously think most of the town of Saratoga Springs, NY is haunted in some way… lots of historical activity there, including perhaps lingering "memories" of the bloody battle that insured the American victory over the British in the Revolutionary War in 1777.  Yep – that Saratoga. I could even feel "it" when walking down the sidewalks in the center of the town. Not creepy -- just sort of an atmosphere of something hanging around like an invisible light mist... sort of there, but nothing you could really put your finger on.

 Unexplainable, but interesting…  More next week….

 

Part One: Unexplainable, but interesting...

The world seems to be full of things that are difficult to understand and I am thinking that it has always been that way.  People are confronted with the unexplainable -- like a pandemic of some sort, border issues or... politics putting its big nose into everything.  Seriously....  It is exhausting (as I have said before... maybe too many times).   Right now, though, I want to switch gears and take a look at what is my world and those things that are unexplainable but interesting to me.  Writing helps me sort things out or at least to explore them....

The saga begins...

When I look back on it, I don’t remember ever feeling really “to the core frightened” – not even when as a child I found myself wondering, in the silence and darkness of the night, if something were in my room with me… although… getting up enough courage to look under the bed was sometimes a challenge. Later on, when upon returning home, I became aware of sensing that someone had been/was still there – moving around within my personal safe haven, I guess I always thought that I was not alone in this… that everyone sensed a presence or had a certain tinge of awareness that only peeks its head above the surface once in a while. Should I have paid more attention…honed my focus? Even now, I let a lot of weird things slide.  I am comfortable with a certain amount of the unexplained.  It’s interesting. Living where I do now – I have a lot of experience with the unexplained.  I am thinking that not everyone lives on "haunted" land (more on that later) … yet… perhaps it is that not everyone is aware of it.  Maybe we all need to pay closer attention.  Maybe we all need to develop a certain kind of mindfulness.

Perhaps this lack of fear is, because from a young age, I was familiar with various levels of the hard to explain.  For example, one of my aunts could see things that were going to happen.  It was sort of unnerving to get a call from her. You never quite knew if you wanted to know why she was getting in touch. I sometimes found myself holding my breath when I heard her voice. One time she called me because she wanted help getting in contact with my Mom.  At the end of the conversation, she simply said… “Be thinking pink’”.  My daughter was born a few months later. (That was back in the day when no one knew the gender of the baby they were carrying.)  My family explained her special abilities by agreeing and totally accepting that she was "clairvoyant". Anyway -- the family story, as it was told to me, was that it all began when she was four years old.  She described, in great detail, a horrific train wreck. This was dismissed as the vivid imagination of a young child … until the next day … when the exact scene she had described appeared as a photo accompanying the report of a train accident. This photo appeared above the fold on the front page of the local newspaper.  And so, it began…. 

This “gift” was a blessing and a curse. She struggled with it her entire life.  It was a difficult journey for her.  I hope it helped that we always believed her.  A case in point – is something that happened one time when I was visiting in their home in Eastern Pennsylvania.  As I remember it, my aunt came into the kitchen and told her four sons to rush to the bottom of the alley way to help their father because he had fallen on the ice and was hurt. Second sight.  Without questioning, they immediately dropped their morning toast, grabbed jackets and headed out the back door.  They found him crawling back up the alley way… with a broken ankle. That is just one experience. Her stories abound – including her particular ability to locate lost objects even if they were hundreds of miles away from her. She once called my Mom and told her that the ring she was looking for had fallen down through a radiator and my aunt was able to tell her how far from the left side of the radiator to look down at the floor underneath. There was the missing ring. She also knew how to locate important maps of secret campaigns during WWII, but that is a whole other story.  All kinds of these stories were a part of my growing up.  They were definitely an integral part of other hard to explain experiences as well. As I got older, I must mention that I found it rather ironic that my aunt worked for a newspaper.  Honest -- you can't make up this kind of "stuff".  It happens.... 

More next week ….