A Family Affair– Is it all True Series #418

Being a Sci-fi fan and paranormal enthusiast, it’s common a few evenings out of the week, for me to watch Ghost Adventures, Dead Files etc. to get my weekly fix of high strangeness. One evening I was watching the Ghost Adventure guys and to my surprise, they were in Santaquin, Utah filming at a family restaurant. I checked out where the town Santaquin was located from where Michael and I live and it was a short distance away, under an hour.

I enthusiastically told Michael about Leslie’s Family Tree Restaurant and we decided to head out and visit it the following weekend. I called the restaurant to let them know we would be coming and as luck would have it, Leslie the restaurant owner answered the phone. She was a real sweetheart and down to earth kind of gal. We talked a short while and she even told me a few stories of her own experiences. But before I get into the actual haunting and experiences, let me give you some history of the town.

Santaquin was settled in 1851 by Mormon pioneers. There was a war called the Walker war that lasted from 1853-1854. The war started with a confrontation with James Walker Ivie which resulted in the death of several Timpanogos (also known as Ute) tribe members. It had to do with trade interruptions and hostilities between the Mormons and the Native Americans. There were raids and each side retaliated which resulted in the loss of life on both sides. Santaquin was at first named, Summit City but was later renamed in 1856 in honor of the son of Guffich, a local native chieftain friendly to the settlers.

Interestingly enough, the deaths and burial ground of some of the Ute Indians is part of the hauntings of the restaurant since it was supposedly built on a Native American burial ground. But there are other ghosts who for some reason or another have decided to stay within the restaurants familiar walls as well.

Leslie told me about a ghost with a sense of humor who was behind her and said, “Boo!”

She laughed at that one and she also saw a little girl who was emphatically talking to her. It seems as if Leslie is seen as a motherly figure and I can also see that they acknowledge her as the matriarch of the restaurant. Smart ghosts.

When Michael and I arrived at the restaurant we were greeted by friendly smiles and as we looked around the large room, it was evident by the many photos on the wall that Leslie and her family were leaving a legacy all their own. It was a warm and friendly place but you could feel something, almost like eyes upon you. It could have been all the photos on the wall or maybe some patrons of long ago.

We let some of the wait-staff know we were paranormal investigators and they enthusiastically started talking to us about their experiences. Charlotte, Leslie’s granddaughter came over and volunteered to give us a tour after our meal. I must add here that we really enjoyed our meal. They are known far and wide for their scones and they did not disappoint. Think of them as sopapillas but better!! Their honey butter is to die for! (No pun intended)

As we were eating Charlotte told us about a woman spirit in the women’s bathroom who was sad and heard crying. They believe she is a woman who lost her child to drowning a few streets behind the restaurant years ago. The bathroom at first seems just like any average bathroom and then a little melancholy sets in and it seems to affect the emotions a little and for some a lot. Those who are empathic are impacted more so than those who aren’t. There is also a dark spirit that Zach from the Ghost Adventures tried to agitate from the men’s bathroom. The dark spirit allegedly scratched a visitor on one of the ghost tours the family offers. As far as the episode with Zach commanding the dark spirit to show itself, the likelihood of the dark spirit actually scratching him shown in the episode is pretty unlikely. But those ratings always need a little boost!

 

We followed Charlotte into another room that used to be a bar but is now used for parties etc. It was really heavy and to me housed most of the spirits that were connected through the illegal gambling which happened down in the basement many years ago. Charlotte said they were able to get the spirits to turn on and off flashlights. She also said that during a voicebox session two names came through, Peter and Henry. Henry for some reason messes with the electronics and they think that Peter is the one talking to them through the flashlight.

 

The family was told that at any given time they have more than a hundred spirits coming in and out of the restaurant, hanging out or communicating with people. My thoughts on this particular room is that the spirits from the illegal gambling days moved there from down below because the Indians who’s burial ground was inharmoniously defiled are hostile to anyone wanting to stay down there

I also heard there was a vortex in the restaurant and sensed where I thought it was by the party room. There is a bathroom adjacent to the party room with a brick wall painted a dark brown or reddish in color and I asked Charlotte if there used to be a doorway there. She said, “No.”

It wasn’t so much a doorway to me but an opening and then it hit me that this was where the vortex is located. You could actually feel the spirits coming in and out through the wall. It made sense to me because the room seemed to be full of spirits that were all talking at the same time, like actually being in a bar or gambling room. At times it felt as if the room was beyond capacity in spirits.

 

Next we went down to the basement but to get there Charlotte had to open up a wooden door from the floor that once opened revealed steps going down into a very dark room. Stepping into the room was like stepping into an Indian campground. It was like I was at one of the Pueblos back home only this time was with departed spirits. They weren’t happy and I must say that the basement was kind of a mess with things piled in different corners that had been there for years.

 

I knew immediately why the spirits were upset. Imagine a place where your loved ones were once buried and all of a sudden, someone comes along and builds a structure over their gravesites.

 

I was greeted by a young Native American who was shirtless, wearing leather pants with long black hair and a small pouch hanging from his neck. I didn’t see a mark on him where a bullet hole would be so I got the impression that perhaps he didn’t die from a gunshot wound. I think he got sick and died from some type of consumption. All in all there were 7 spirits down there that were unhappy. There could have been more but that is who came through to me. They were very unhappy with the mess over their gravesites. I think that the dark spirit that scratched the visitor in the men’s bathroom was probably one of the Native American spirits in the basement.

I told Charlotte that if they cleaned it up and paid homage to the spirits who were buried there, that the energy would be lighter, better and they would be happier. I suggested a Remembering Blessing that the family members could do to appease the spirits and let them know they are not forgotten. To be forgotten for many of us is worse than death but if you are dead, feeling no one cares or knows about your plight, it could be a prison of inconsequence.

Amy Allan from the Dead Files commented that Leslie would need representatives from many religions to do a ceremony to help appease the spirits at the restaurant. Leslie told me on the phone it was basically impossible and I agree with her. To advise this is a set up for failure. How can anybody possibly do this? Not many people have the time or ability to find such a large group.

 

What I feel needs to be done is simpler. A Medicine Man from the Ute tribe and a Bishop from the Mormon faith need to come and do a Blessing of the Spirits. An intermediary such as an empath or healer who is not from either group would stand between the Bishop and Medicine Man. From the Medicine man I see a pouch of prayers being offered. From the Bishop a written Blessing. If both representatives could do the ceremony, the hostility would dissipate and there would be a lighter feeling down in the basement and throughout the restaurant. Remembering the Dead once a year is a good way to let them know they are not forgotten.

At the end of our tour, we said good-bye to Charlotte and felt we had just made a new friend. To Leslie and her family, we would like to thank you for your gracious hospitality and to the spirits of Leslie’s Family Tree Restaurant, rest assured, you are not forgotten.

Rainbow

 

Five Ghosts and a House Hunt — Is it all True Series # 382

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I was in Salt Lake City over the weekend and my fiancee and we were house searching for our future home there. It’s a beautiful city and like all cities there are places where spirits hang out. So on this trip we met five ghosts in one house we were looking at. As we walked into the house, there was a feeling like we were walking through a spider web and strange psychic veil. We had to blink several times to remove the feeling. The lighting inside was darker than expected with minimum coverings on the window, almost like there was some screening over the windows. Spirits like it darker than live humans. The bedrooms were depressingly dark.

My fiancee, who is a powerful empath, noticed the smell of the spirits which is similar to an earthy, damp, dark, after-life smell. She encountered the first spirit in the kitchen, she was a female in her middle 30’s to early 40s, blonde and young feeling who seemed to hang out mostly in the kitchen. She had not died in the house so we don’t know how she got there. Next in the basement she encountered the other four spirits. One of them had a grandpa feeling, as my fiancee walked deeper into the basement, she met the leader of the group. He was a young aggressive male, died in his late 20’s of TB or some other consuming disease. He was a very unhappy soul. This young male was about 5‘10” blonde hair and gave off a powerful feeling, that felt like he didn’t want us there. My fiancee suddenly got pressure (a strong headache) on the top her head and chest pressure. She got the impression that if a person was alone, down in the basement, they could be locked in with unimaginable scary things coming at them or done to them.

The other male and female in the house gave off a presence but no other identifiable traits, except they were both controlled by the aggressive male. So you probably guessed we didn’t take the house. There would be times a ghost or two in your house would not be a problem, for it is very possible to co-exist with them. They can even be good house-sitters when you are away, and no harm would come to the house, for it is their home also.

Sleep tight, if you have a Casper, you can always sleep in peace.
MWiz.

Dark Witches, Shapeshifters and Skinwalkers-Is it all True Series #375

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Part 1

What is it about hearing the howl of a wolf or leaves and twigs cracking under the weight of some unknown creature, that makes the hair on the back of our neck stand up? Is it really the blackness of the night and all that resides in it, that assaults our senses or can it be knowing the cover of night offers nightmarish possibilities that we dread? Most people can see interminable childhood monsters within their irrational fears within a blink of an eye, because human beings can manifest their fears into any type of hallucination, believing that what they think they see is real … or is it?

Then … there is the tangible and bona fide footsteps that come out of nowhere, the growl that seems different, more aggressive and treacherous. Losing our self control, we inhale, gasping for air, hoping what we are seeing, is all just a dream. In moments like this, dreams can seem like reality and reality can seem like a dream. This uncertainty is where dark witches shapeshifters and skinwalkers seem to lurk, sometimes stepping back and forth from one reality to the next. Such beings survive, because most people prefer to ignore their very existence, yet within this beleaguered ignorance, these dark creatures very existence permeates the air, filling the room with dread. This is part of the dark agenda, that proliferates itself by fear and trepiditious half truths. So, what is the difference between these three adversaries and why do they generate so much fear in our subconscious?

Many moons ago, I was studying to become a medicine woman and I felt that my calling was one of a communicator and intermediary between this world and the ethereal realm. Interestingly enough, the problems I encountered in my training weren’t from ghosts, dark spirits or dimensional spirits; they were earth-based, hidden from the unsuspecting populace. This small faction made up what I call the, egomaniac shadows, because they seemed to make their presence known in the most unconventional of ways. Curses, bad luck, strange encounters with people or animals seemed to become apart of my every day existence, yet I trekked on with my studies, never knowing what was coming my way.

I lived in an 18 foot Sioux teepee in the summer months in Taos. I loved living in a circular home and I understand now, why it’s the best way to connect with Mother Nature, animals and the elements. It’s the eternal circle of life, the womb of femininity, baring witness to the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. Within my teachings, it was understood where the line was drawn between the dark and light worlds. I had to understand how the dark world functioned and who subsisted in its shadows and hid in its obscurity. This, as I was to find out, was very important to my well being and also for those around me. Once anything from the dark realms senses who you are or what you are trying to become, it pursues your inner knowing, the knowledge gained within which then becomes “your” medicine. The darkness becomes envious of this knowledge, that which it does not possess, so it tries to steal or coax individual’s to give their medicine away, simultaneously possessing their soul. There is a secret that human beings have forgotten; nothing can be possessed which has not been earned by the individual and their will. The trickster’s job, is to get the practicing shaman to willfully give away their knowledge and medicine which isn’t easy. The lay person on the street is easier to trick, because they can’t see the illusion of false promises, dangling before them. I call this deception, the Dark Interstice.

Years ago, I was told my Grandmother (my mother’s mom) was a Curandera which in English means healer. She could take a strand of hair and from observing it’s condition, tell what a person was deficient in. She would advise different herbs for people and show them how to make tinctures for various problems. She had an apple orchard in northern New Mexico and was a major supplier in her area. Her ancestry roots are from Spain, so I can only assume she had gypsy blood in her. I wanted to follow in her footsteps but some really unusual circumstances eventually lead me in another direction.

What’s in a word … the variety of alternative names for Medicine men and women is interesting; Shaman, faith healer, sorcerer, witch doctor, Indian doctor, isangoma, and mundunugu. With each word used through out history, various societies have created fictitious folk tales regarding rumored banter and half truths that have nothing to do with reality of Shamans. But, on the other hand, when this word is talked about with negative connotations and hushed tones, this in itself reveals a different quandary for families dealing with superstition and malevolent spells. Surprisingly enough, it was because of a dark witch who crossed my path years ago, that I decided to rethink my medicine path.

I don’t remember her name, which is just as well because I wouldn’t write it down, anyways. The circumstances surrounding the chance encounter with her strange and exorcisty demeanor, is a bit vague now. I think she was new in town and had only been in Taos for a few days. I believe I was introduced to her by a friend and from the moment we shook hands, I knew there was going to be trouble in the mud puddle. She gave me a strange look that was menacing but I went ahead and smiled back at her, making nervous small talk. Days after our introduction, I would see her walking in the middle of town and she would literally stop in her tracks, staring at me as I drove by her. The creepiest experience I had with her, was on a day when I was outside, standing by the light in the middle of town. She stared at me in a sinister way and never missing a beat, kept on walking with her head literally turning around behind her like from the movie, The Exorcist. She turned away from me and crossed the road just as a car came zooming by. She laughed and continued on her way as I froze on the spot, freaking out.

I heard through the grapevine, weeks later that she wanted to put a curse on me, for what purpose, I had no idea. As I was trying to figure out why she wanted to harm me, I also took what was conveyed to me very seriously. After mulling my predicament around in my head for a few days, I decided to ask her to meet me, so we could talk things out. (To be honest, I hadn’t talked to her since the first day I met her.) We met a few days later, at a gift shop where she worked and I must admit that I was nervous as hell the entire morning before our meeting. To make a long story short, she had assumed for some strange reason that I didn’t like her and that I was very jealous of her just from our first encounter. I knew she was playing a passive-aggressive game with me but I played along to keep the peace. I explained to her, that I didn’t know her well enough to dislike her or to be jealous. I said I had many beautiful friends, both men and women because I liked to surround myself with beautiful people.

We thankfully, came to an understanding that very day and eventually through time became casual friends from talking and seeing each other or hanging out at restaurants. One day she came over to the gallery I worked at and from the moment she walked through the door, I could tell something was wrong with her. She said, she had gotten into a huge disagreement with some of the women at the Pueblo and that they were putting curses on her. She said she woke up a few days before with blisters all over her legs so she decided to move to Santa Fe right away, in order to get away from them. I saw a few of the blisters and right then and there, realized that this could be a reality I might have to face down the line if some dark witch became upset with me. She left a few days later and I have to say, I was really relieved.

She had a few distinct characteristics that I think are signature traits of a dark side possession. One characteristic that was uncanny beyond belief was the fact that she could distort her body in ways that seemed inhuman. Sometimes, her eyes took on a wild animal stare that looked at me with distrust and contempt. Her pupils would dilate, becoming large, especially if she was extremely agitated. They would literally take over most of the eye, with very little white showing. She had a possessed look to her that was unnerving and scary to say the least. Her frequency, vibrated at an odd oscillation, making her seem scattered, distorted and deranged, which at times made her very uncomfortable to be around. My observations of her first hand, helped me see how a person who is possessed, thinks and acts. One thing I will always remember about her, is that she seemed to flourish, living in a dysfunctional chaotic lifestyle, exasperated by her own negativity that was directed towards other people. She was the closest to the presence evil that I have ever gotten and I have to say, it was the most disturbing experience of my life.

Sci-Fi movies tend to typecast these kinds of individuals as invincible and unbeatable foes. It’s easy to notice with most of the movies out today that have anything to do with possession or the dark arts that they carry a message. This message is subliminal in implication, saying, “We are here to stay.” People who carry this message throughout their lives, unknowingly on a subconscious level, help nurture the root origin, allowing it to manifest and grow in their fears. This in itself cultivates the evil agenda into our reality, making it seem solid. The fact is, it is an illusion that plays itself over and over again in the minds of society like a broken record. Remembering the light within and allowing it to fill you up, is the best way to see past this illusion. Imagine the rays of the sun bursting through your mind, dissolving any remnants of doubt.

Many people don’t realize that there is definitely an Achilles heel even for the individuals, partaking in the dark agenda and dark arts. They can implode within their own debauchery because of the very fact that evil begets evil. It’s only a matter of time before it swallows itself whole, creating a blackhole that consumes itself into oblivion. This type of self destruction happens because within all living things there is the spark of light, the illumination of the divine creator’s breath. This illuminated celestial presence is in everything, even that which chooses to deny it’s very existence. To put it simply, to deny the light within, is to deny the soul it’s origin. When the soul doesn’t know where it comes from, it becomes weak, eventually wasting away from lack of sustenance from it’s original source.

Yet I must say, darkness is the choice for dark witches, which is why those traveling by light, must take a care of this fact and be vigilant on their path. The shadows sometimes tell stories, in the whispering of the trees and the voices in the distance, silhouetted by darkness. Only when the owl screeches, do we know we are truly not alone.

Let me be clear, sometimes there is more to the definitive dark witch then meets the eye, because they also have other capabilities. Shapeshifting is one of them.

The Spirits of McGavock Confederate Cemetery– Is it all True Series ?– # 359

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This is a fitting story to share with all of you during Fall and the beginning of Winter. It’s a new tale, fresh with a mixed brew of emotions and haunting whispers. It is one story I thought I would never tell only because my experiences with ghosts have never been with the Civil War, only the old west towns of my home state, New Mexico and those along my travels as a cowgirl.

Sometimes spirits reach out to those who can feel them, hear them and relay the replays of life that went on years past. They whisper the echoes of torment, languishing pain and the truth of how death does not end their soul’s convictions…it only prolongs the outcome of their inevitable actions, if such have the fallacy of intolerance.

What wayward souls can not comprehend, they cannot see and because of this, they cannot rest.

With this being said, I will now share with you the story of my travels with my sister Holly, to Carnton Plantation just a few minutes from Franklin, Tennessee where the Battle of Franklin took place in November 30, 1864.

Just a mere two weeks ago, I went to Nashville to visit my sister and to enjoy the southern hospitality she is known for. My sister is a fabulous cook, the hostess with the mostess in all aspects of making anyone feel right at home. The area where she lives is not too far from the town of Franklin, a place that oozes with the shadowy memoirs of a sorrowful past. I realized the moment Holly took me through this beautiful town; I was literally thrust back in time, no time machine needed here because the surroundings emulated old Southern pride. It’s a déjà vu kind of feeling but as a Yankee, it felt a little unnerving. The architecture through out the town with the churches and homes held within their walls the echoes of people running, yelling, and the distant thunder of gun fire. It was still in the air and I could feel the emotions with every fiber of my being. Holly and I are empaths, we feel places and with this ability we can smell the flowery aromas of perfume or the trepidation and stench of death. This ability is in our family, it’s in our blood.

The day after traveling through the striking town of Franklin, Holly somehow without forethought but I’m pretty sure, pure intuition, drove right by the Carnton Plantation as if planned and on queue. She said she had never been there before and was quite surprised to have driven by there on our way to another plantation. We decided immediately that we were destined to go to this one instead. The land seemed to whisper secrets through the car windows to us and then there seemed to be an urgency to our summoning. As Holly turned the car around, we almost went down a one way road the wrong way. It was a bit confusing at first but interestingly enough that confusion never left us even as we drove up the one lane road. We could see that this plantation was not only massive but obviously an important historical landmark. As we drove into the parking lot, the house sat back behind what looked like a large barn and to our right was a cemetery that had huge headstones peaking out from the iron fence.

With my persuasion, we first went to the cemetery because it was up on a hill and I wanted to look around and see the vast green land that encircled the cemetery. Holly stated she had reservations about entering the cemetery but like a trouper, she ventured forward with me. There seemed to be an odd feeling that almost felt like we had walked into a bubble or a time warp from the past. The air was different, birds crowed and yelled down at us and we both felt the immediate sense of sadness and the traumatic demise of all the soldiers within the cemetery. There are nearly 1,500 Confederate soldiers buried at the cemetery who were casualties of the Battle of Franklin. Carrie Winder McGavock was in charge of the soldiers brought to Carnton which was to become the largest field hospital in the area for the wounded. There were at least 150 Confederate soldiers who died that first night at Carnton from the battle. There are still blood stains on the floorboards of the main house to this day.

When we entered the cemetery none of this information was known to us. We understood the severity of what all the men had gone through because we could feel it in our bones. It was with this emotion, this connection that the first communication with some of the spirits of the cemetery started to happen.

I heard a mans voice say softly to me, “How is Elizabeth?”

Wait a minute; I went…no, he said Lizbett. I thought I must have gotten the name wrong but when he said it again, he said it more forcefully and I knew for sure he was saying the name Lizbett. I told him I was sorry that I didn’t know her. I asked my sister if that was a Southern name and she said she thought so.

We walked through the main entrance and Holly said she didn’t feel right, she almost felt like she didn’t want to go forward. I had trepidations myself but I walked a little ways past the family gravestones to the entrance to where the Confederate soldiers were buried. Holly walked with me and we immediately stepped to our left, looking at the first of granite markers. We saw two copper pennies on top of two markers and we both wondered what the significance of that was. It was at this very moment that a young mans voice came to me, talking in my right ear and in my head, stating that he had died of a gun shot wound and he wanted to show me where he was shot. I didn’t want to know but he didn’t let up and upon hearing him say, “I got shot in my stomach,” I felt the first stinging pains in my own stomach right where my belly button is. I told Holly my stomach hurt and when we turned to face the dirt path that went down the middle of the markers, we did an about face and left the cemetery. It was just too much.

This young soldier would not let up. It was imperative for him that he tell me what happened to him. I finally acquiesced, letting him know I would listen.

He started from the moment he was shot. He said he was down for about an hour. It hurt like hell and he didn’t think at the time it was something he would die from. He knew men were down around him but he thought if he could get help, he would be alright.

He knew he was bleeding out and he tried to calm himself down waiting for help to come. He was only 19 or maybe 20, young, full of hope, not really understanding the gravity of his situation. When help did arrive, he felt he would be taken on a stretcher and he would live to fight another day. There were three men, two carrying a stretcher and the other man checking wounds. They talked to him for a few minutes, looked at his wound and with grave faces told him there was nothing they could do for him. They were under orders to take and carry only those wounded that could be saved. They gave him his death sentence. He never saw it coming just like he never saw the bullet that hit him. He said he lay there for about three to four hours before he died. He couldn’t believe they left him and for him, the fact they did leave him was worse then getting shot. He felt alone when he died. I think this is why sometimes he’s not sure he’s dead. His memory stays within the confines of the bullet that brought him down. It’s an eternal pain that he shared with me, not just a physical one.

Carnton Plantation

By the time he finished telling me his story, my stomach was burning and I felt as if my insides were on fire. The pressure on my stomach was intense; it was as if I literally had an opening gash that was bleeding out.

Holly and I entered the gift shop by the barn area and when we walked in, we both thought for a minute we might fall down from weak and shaky legs. I couldn’t really focus on any one item except for a book on Carnton. I felt like I should buy it but for some reason I didn’t. We decided to make a hasty departure to the car because neither one of us was feeling or doing well. I was bent over at this point from the pain in my stomach and Holly had a headache that was growing in intensity by the minute. The Carnton house was out of the question. Neither of us wanted to take the tour.

As I climbed into the car, from my right ear, I distinctly heard an angry male voice that seemed to be in his mid 40s to early 50’s. Discretion Advised! (Please understand that this is what I heard and not how I talk. I debated whether I should state what I heard and I feel it’s only right to write exactly what I heard.)

He said, “God Damn (N word)! Nobody is gonna tell me what I do with my property!”

I said, “Oh my God, Holly, you won’t believe what I just heard.” I then proceeded to tell her, word for word. She shook her head and said it was time for us to go. I was in shock and couldn’t believe the intense animosity coming from the male voice who spoke in my right ear. That kind of talk is just plain wrong and I found myself feeling disgusted at hearing it.

Holly drove down the one lane road exiting the plantation and it wasn’t until we were on the main road and driving away that we both started to feel better. For a minute we just looked at each other. Words were beyond us.

As a woman of the west, I must admit that I came back home with a tangled web of emotions. I had no idea the Civil War was fought in so many areas where my sister lives. I had no idea the mindset of the South lives on. Most of all, I had no idea how sad I would feel about the loss of life. It’s an intense feeling of sorrow with a raw edginess to it.

There is one thing for sure that I do know and that is that death makes every man and every woman equal because in the eyes of death,our humanity is all the same. What makes us individuals is our sense of self when we die. For these men of the Franklin Battle, they were comrades in arms and I think it’s this unity that keeps them there. They stay because of each other and they stay because in the end, they don’t seem to know the Battle of Franklin is over.

From Rainbow Radaelli – truthseekerhighway.com

Five Ghosts and a house Hunt –Is it all True Series # 354

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I was in Salt Lake City over the weekend and my fiancee and we were house searching for our future home there. It’s a beautiful city and like all cities there are places where spirits hang out. So on this trip we met five ghosts in one house we were looking at. As we walked into the house, there was a feeling like we were walking through a spider web and strange psychic veil. We had to blink several times to remove the feeling. The lighting inside was darker than expected with minimum coverings on the window, almost like there was some screening over the windows. Spirits like it darker than live humans. The bedrooms were depressingly dark.

My fiancee, who is a powerful empath, noticed the smell of the spirits which is similar to an earthy, damp, dark, after-life smell. She encountered the first spirit in the kitchen, she was a female in her middle 30’s to early 40s, blonde and young feeling who seemed to hang out mostly in the kitchen. She had not died in the house so we don’t know how she got there. Next in the basement she encountered the other four spirits. One of them had a grandpa feeling, as my fiancee walked deeper into the basement, she met the leader of the group. He was a young aggressive male, died in his late 20’s of TB or some other consuming disease. He was a very unhappy soul. This young male was about 5‘10” blonde hair and gave off a powerful feeling, that felt like he didn’t want us there. My fiancee suddenly got pressure (a strong headache) on the top her head and chest pressure. She got the impression that if a person was alone, down in the basement, they could be locked in with unimaginable scary things coming at them or done to them.

The other male and female in the house gave off a presence but no other identifiable traits, except they were both controlled by the aggressive male. So you probably guessed we didn’t take the house. There would be times a ghost or two in your house would not be a problem, for it is very possible to co-exist with them. They can even be good house-sitters when you are away, and no harm would come to the house, for it is their home also.

Sleep tight, if you have a Casper, you can always sleep in peace.
MWiz.

Part 3: Mountainair- Shaffer- Hotel of Mystery -Is it all True Series # 331

schaffer hotelPlease read part 1 and part 2 to catch up on the Shaffer Hotel’s great epic ghost saga. So let’s continue with the stories that made this cute hotel in the middle of Mountainair, New Mexico a treasured landmark.

There was a particular room in the hotel where there were constant noises coming from the room, most of them sounded like footsteps. It got so bad that staff thought someone was sneaking into the room and making the noises and strangely putting a child’s footprints into the carpet. So the staff changed the locks on the room, but the noises and the footprints continue until today.

Next the hotel has a regular guest that does business out of one of the hotel’s rooms. This guest commented to the staff that the ghosts had to go. Our tour guide knew that comment wasn’t going to fly with the ghosts and she was right. Quickly thereafter a strange symbol appeared outside the room of that particular guest and it looked a bit satanic or maybe Masonic in nature. The staff tried everything to remove the symbol but nothing worked. Finally the guest apologized to the ghosts and the symbol disappeared.

And then there was the famous suitcase incident: a mother, daughter and grandmother were staying in a room together and there was a beautiful piece of furniture, a rocking chair built by Pa Shaffer in the room. The little girl placed her suitcase on the chair and opened it, but suddenly the suitcase slammed shut, scaring the three women into the hallway. Other strange events had happened before in that particular room involving that rocking chair. This event happen in April 2014, and since then the rocker has been removed to storage and any further happenings have stopped.

There are many more stories. I would encourage you to visit this wonderful hotel in a very enchanted part of New Mexico, get the guided tour from Becky or Sheryl and tell them Mike from the New Mexico UFO/Paranormal Forum sent you.

Sleep tight, remember you can safely befriend a ghost but don’t challenge them, they will have the advantage.
MWiz

Part 2: Mountainair- Shaffer- Hotel of Mystery -Is it all True Series # 330

schaffer hotelPlease read part 1 last week for a little more background on thehotel; so let’s continue with the wonderful stories coming from this hotel in Mountainair, New Mexico.

The Jack and Jill rooms, numbers 17 and 18: in 1928 a cowboy was staying in the Shafferwhile attending the Bean and Cattle Auction. Well the bad news is the cowboy was found hung in the bathroom between rooms 17 and 18. Pa Shaffer found the body and not knowing who he was strangely buried his body in an unknown burial site, for the cowboy didn’t sign the hotel register. Those were different times I guess. A couple of years ago a local skeptic on the cowboy hanging stayed in the same room where this incident took place.

The skeptic challenged the cowboy ghost to show himself. Note other past guests to the room had seen out of the corner of their eyes a body lying on the floor in the bathroom. So the skeptic in the middle of the night got up to go to the bathroom and suddenly he was shoved head first into the wall and held there for several minutes. He howled for his kids who were in the adjoining room 17, but they could not move to help their dad; finally he was released from the ghostly hold.But he next found out that all doors to the hall werelocked and after several minutes of struggling to get out, the doors opened freely. The skeptic and his children were found in the hotel lobby at 4am in the morning by the early staff, very shaken,not asking for their money back but just wanting to check out as soon as possible. He vowednever to return to the hotel, which he hasn’t to this day.This event happened just a few years ago.

Part 3 to come and remember to sleep tight, Ghosts and other beings have been among us from the beginning of Human time and probably before.

MWiz.

Mountainair Revisited and High Strangeness at the Shaffer Hotel —Is it all True Series # 329

schaffer hotel

This was my third visit to the sleepy town of Mountainair New Mexico, once known as the Pinto Bean Capital of the World, and there resides the Shaffer Hotel, a hotel rich in paranormal activity. There were two fires that nearly destroyed the hotel back many years ago when Pop & Ma Shaffer owned it.

So here are some interesting stories from the Shaffer. My research partner and I were toured around the hotel by Ms. Becky who knew many of the stories that make this hotel so very special. She took us first to one of the Cowboy rooms, a very small one person room, where she showed us the tiny footprints on the freshly vacuumed carpet, which are from the small ghost child that lives in the hotel and has been seen many times in the past.
Next Ms. Becky was in a room where the bath tub was right against the window. She noticed the window needed cleaning, and the only way to do that was to stand on the tub, which she starting doing. Suddenly somebody shouted out in a stern voice “No, don’t.” To her surprise she was the only person in the room. Apparently the ghost was warning her there was danger in standing on the tub next to a window.

The present owner Sheryl told us a story about when her mother ran the Shaffer hotel in the 70’s. Sheryl was walking down the hallway at the hotel and Sheryl clearly saw Ma Shaffer’s ghost standing in front of her smiling.
There is a beautiful honeymoon suite, room #12, where several guests have seen a reflection in the armoire mirror of the ghosts of Ma and Pa Shaffer sitting together on the bed.

Next week in part two, many more great ghost stories from the Shaffer.

Sleep tight, reality is not what it seems.
MWiz.