An UnHappy Mother's Day Ghost

Happy Mother's Day from Theresa's Haunted History of the Tri-State! On a previous Mother's Day blog, I wrote about the strong bond between mother and child, and how that bond could not be broken, even in death. Usually, this bond is a beautiful and loving phenomenon, as illustrated in the case of the Greenbrier Ghost. Mary Heaster was so convinced that her daughter, Zona reached out to her from beyond the grave to seek help in bringing her murderer to justice, that she publicly testified this information, leading to the conviction of Zona's husband. But, today's story is a little different. When this mother passed away, her spirit reached out to them...not in a protective or loving way....but in a pretty scary way. It almost sounds like she was desperately trying to take one child WITH her. 

Did this 'ghost mother' have ill intentions toward her son, or was the ball of fire that landed on his chest, making him sick, and then her apparition carrying him towards the door before flinging him down just her way of trying to warn the family of something? Maybe she WAS being protective of the young boy, and trying to get him to the doctor! This story appeared in the July 6, 1888 edition of the (Wheeling) Daily Register, but occurs just across the river into Belmont County, OH. 

Daily Register (Wheeling, WV)
06 July 1888

Lawrence Co. Ohio's Haunted Courthouse

Lawrence Co. Courthouse
Ironton, Ohio

On October 16, 1873, the Ironton Register ran a letter from a local citizen informing the paper about a ghost that was stalking the area around the Turner Kemp farm. The Lawrence Register historical website transcribes the article as seen below:

I have, on several occasions, noticed that you solicit local items. I thought it not amiss to inform you of a visitation the neighborhood has been blessed with since sometime last May.

On the farm of Turner Kemp stands a small, plain, framed house occupied by a colored man and his family. Since about the time mentioned above, there has, at regular intervals, appeared to some of his family a veritable ghost. It sometimes is seen only by his wife, and at other times is seen by the family, and on several occasions, it has been seen by many of the neighbors. I have had frequent glimpses of it myself, and although I have been taught to disbelief in such things, I must confess that the evidence, in this case, is so strong that I am forced to admit it a fact.

The first time I saw it was just in the dusk of the evening, as I was returning from the field. It started near the fence and flitted along till it came to the house and disappeared rather suddenly. Since then, I have often seen it in broad daylight and after dark. Contrary to most, it seems to have no regular hours of visibility but comes and goes just as it happens. I heard from a reliable source that it had been seen in the Court House yard last Saturday evening. The last seen of it was at a small house in East Ironton. So, Mr. Editor, it may, someday, take a notion to walk into your ‘sanctum.’

Anyone having doubts about the above facts can obtain the full name of the writer of this, by calling on the Editor of the Ironton Register.

It seems like this wandering ghost didn't limit itself to just showing itself to the family living on the farm and their neighbors...at least once it was spotted nearby at the Lawrence County courthouse! However, this courthouse wasn't much longer for this world. In April of 1875, the building was heavily damaged by fire. It was patched up, but at the turn of the century, would finally be replaced. In 1906, construction began on the 'modern' courthouse and was completed in 1908. This new courthouse was built on the lawn of the previous courthouse and may have inherited its predecessor's reputation for being haunted. 

On October 29, 2000, The Ironton Tribune ran a special Halloween article featuring haunted locations around the area. The 1873 article was quoted, but some additional information was provided by Constable Marty Smith, who spent many late-evening hours at the Lawrence County Courthouse.

Smith had several of his own experiences in the courthouse, including feeling cold drafts and witnessing the elevator stop and open up when no one else was around to operate it. He was even punched in the shoulder by an invisible force. 

Smith wasn't the only person to witness spooky phenomena. One evening he was summoned by several custodians for help. They had watched as a man walked past them and into the men's restroom. The courthouse was locked up for the night and they weren't sure who this potential intruder could be. They followed him into the bathroom but found it completely empty. The only two ways out would have been through the window, which was bolted tightly shut, and MAYBE a tiny crawl space in the ceiling. 

No one is sure who this ghost may be, but Smith theorizes that it may be the spirit of one of the three men he knows about who died on the courthouse grounds; one who was hanged legally, one who was lynched, and one who was shot during a political rally. 

Andrew Price was sentenced to be hanged on the courthouse lawn for his role in the murder of Louis (Henry) Hillenberg. Price and another man, Andrew/Jerry Spears, took the life of Hillenberg and robbed him of some old clothes, whiskey, and 18 cents. Spears, who was accused of cutting the man's throat, was given a life sentence at the Ohio State Penitentiary in Moundsville. Price, however, had taken a hatchet to the man and was sentenced to hang. After several petitions extended his execution date from March 12, 1869, Price finally swung from the gallows on April 2, 1869. 

Again, the Lawrence Register website has a wonderful collection of articles concerning this incident, including an interesting little blurb about a superstitious fellow. An older gentleman came to town to witness the execution, but his purpose for coming was to request the rope used in the hanging. Apparently, his son was an epileptic, who had been cured in the past by wearing an execution rope around his neck. 

The Lawrence Register website also has information regarding the November 3, 1936 slaying of 30 year old Bert McMahon. Around 300 people were crowded in the courthouse lobby on election night, when McMahon got into a political argument with Charles Roach. Both men had been drinking, and the fight quickly escalated, culminating with Roach pulling out a pistol and firing three shots at McMahon. One newspaper article quoted said that the fatal shot hit McMahon in the heart and he was deceased within ten minutes. 

Unfortunately, I couldn't find any clear information about a lynching, other than it MIGHT be the 1932 lynching of Luke Marion. However, that event occurred in South Point, not Ironton. If I find more information, I'll definitely update, but it seems like either Price or McMahon could be good candidates for the potential ghost of the modern Lawrence County courthouse. As for the spooky fellow roaming about in 1873, I guess that COULD be Andrew Price, but I'm not convinced that is the same ghost that is being reported today. But, let me know what you think! Comment down below, or find me on Facebook at Theresa's Haunted History of the Tri-State! 

The Ironton Tribune
29 October 2000

Plane Crash at Fairfield County Infirmary

FCI from rear field/cemetery

If you were a resident (or inmate, as they were called) of the Fairfield County Infirmary in Ohio, chances are, you probably witnessed some weird stuff. Serving as the county poor house, orphanage, and overall place to house people who couldn't take care of themselves since the mid-1800's, FCI now operates as a premier destination for those interested in haunted history. But, not all the strange stories that come from the old brick building are paranormal in nature! 

For today's blog, I wanted to continue to share some of the non-spooky, yet fascinating history from the grounds of the Fairfield County Infirmary, including an incident that happened in the autumn of 1950:

On Thursday, October 5, 1950, a Cessna plane owned by Baker Aviation Corp was being piloted by 23 year old Robert W. Brocklesby, of Caledonia. The only passenger aboard the small aircraft was a 22 year old medical technician working at Marion City Hospital, named Barbara Ann Beck. According to the pilot's parents, Brocklesby became lost when he couldn't find the local airport. The reason he couldn't find the local airport was that there were absolutely no lights on at all, indicating where the runway was. After trying to find the airport for some time, the plane ran out of gas and Brocklesby crashed the plane in a hard, forced landing....in the field across from the Fairfield County Infirmary! 

The plane was returning to Marion from Detroit, and unfortunately, Barbara was injured in the landing, suffering a broken vertebra. She was treated in a local hospital until October 21, then released to her parents' care. 

Luckily, this accident was not as bad as it could have potentially been...but I can't imagine what was going through the minds of the 'inmates' as they heard, then watched all of this unfold on their property. Many of FCI's 'inmates' were elderly and/or feeble-minded. This was also 1950. A plane crashing so close by, even by today's standards, would be a scary experience. Back then, those people probably thought the world was coming to an end! But, again, luckily no one was killed or injured too badly. The mayor made sure new bulbs were ordered for the local runway, and the cornfield crash became just another wild event in a long history of strange and unexplained events that have made FCI the awesome place to investigate that it is today!

From the October , 1950 edition of the Marion Star:

In Defense of Supt. Hummel: A Fairfield County Infirmary Story

So today's blog might be a little...controversial...but that's never stopped me before in the pursuit of the truth! And while the title of this post is 'In Defense Of,' I offer you what historical documentation I've found, give my opinion, but encourage you to look at the facts and come to your own conclusion. 

There are several stories that are told to every visitor investigating the Fairfield County Infirmary in Lancaster, Ohio. One of those stories is of a certain Superintendent by the name of Hummel, who was a cruel and abusive overseer of the institution. A shocking claim is that people going past the infirmary would see Hummel out in the farm, beating inmates without mercy. They reasoned, 'if he's doing that out in the open where the public could see, what the heck is he doing behind closed doors to those poor, unfortunate souls?' Further stories tale of gross neglect in addition to the abuse, and many believe that Hummel was outed from his position of Superintendent when the citizens of Fairfield County finally had had enough and requested a formal investigation. 

To back up these claims, an incident is cited where an abused inmate had finally had enough, and brutally attacked Hummel out in the fields one day, nearly ending his life. And despite being gone from the institution for so many years, the ghost of Hummel has returned. His name has popped up on spirit boxes, and affirmative responses have been given when communicating with spirits about their thoughts on this cruel superintendent. Even our group has had a definite feeling that there was some darker, more oppressive force on site, possibly hindering the communication with other spirits. But how much of it is true?

Henry Matthew Hummel  was born on November 10, 1873 to parents Louis and Sophie, in Lancaster County, where he would live out his entire life. Hummel was a devout Lutheran, and was a member of several civic organizations. He married his wife, Minnie Watts, on  September 4, 1899 and the couple had five children together. As their children began to get older and leave home, Hummel and his wife started exploring new opportunities. They took the Civil Servants test (kind of like the test government workers today take) and both passed with high scores. As a result, Henry was appointed to the position of Superintendent of the Fairfield County Infirmary in 1917, with Minnie joining him as Matron. 

But, all was not well for Superintendent Hummel. Despite the fact that the local paper was constantly running articles on him for his outstanding management of the county farm, and his work with bringing community charity into the infirmary, there were those who disliked him. 

Lancaster Eagle-Gazette
25 November 1918

On November 20, 1918, Hummel received a letter from two members of the County Commission, President Ben Friesner and Mr. E.B. McCullough (the third member, Amos Hoffer was against the complaints) stating that Mr. Hummel will be removed from his post, effective at 9 a.m. on November 25th. The letter listed three reasons: 1. In the summer of 1918 inmate George Smith was noted to have maggots in his foot. 2. In the summer of 1918 inmate John Switzer died without proper care. 3. The farm lost too many calves last season. The letter listed the temporary superintendent as George Bierly, a young man from the community involved in the grocery business.

Obviously, Hummel filed an injunction right away, and the court agreed. Hummel claimed that not only were these allegations vague, but that he was not given proper time to defend himself against them. He maintained that he had never been neglectful of his duties in any way and that the two commissioners had been opposed to his appointment from the start, and had actively been conspiring to have him removed ever since. Oddly enough, both Friesner and McCullough admitted that they had never actually seen anything supporting these claims, but that they were admitted by Hummel himself in his reports, and that they had heard complaints (again, Hoffer maintained that he had never heard any complaints). 

As part of the investigation, a special commission was sent unannounced to the infirmary for a surprise inspection. This delegation was greeted warmly and welcomed into the facility. They noted that neither Hummel or his wife ran off to coach inmates or to hide any evidence of wrong-doing. Instead, they were given full access to the building to roam un-chaperoned, interviewing as many inmates as they wished. The group noted that every inmate they talked to LOVED the Hummels, and claimed that they had always treated them with the utmost attention and dignity. They said they were the kindest and most hard-working, even suggesting the county hire a nurse to alleviate some of the burden on Mrs. Hummel, who did her job without complaint at all hours of the day and night. 

Two little old ladies said they'd leave if Hummel was forced to leave, despite not having anywhere else to go. Another elderly woman said that the man with maggots in his feet was crazy, and that he would rip off his bandages faster than they could be put on, cursing and swearing the whole time.  Everyone interviewed was quite agitated at the idea of losing their beloved overseers. 

The board decided to petition in favor of Hummel, finding no evidence of neglect. At the same time, the taxpayers of the county were also signing a petition to keep Hummel at the infirmary. Playing Devil's Advocate, it is possible that someone on the board gave Hummel a head's up about the surprise inspection. It's possible that the worst of the worst inmates were somehow silenced, or that a biased group just chose to focus on the positive. Whatever the scenario, the court was unable to substantiate any reason to fire Hummel, and he remained at his post until his death. 

Henry Hummel passed away at his residence at the Fairfield County Infirmary on February 20, 1927 after a five month illness. He had served the institution faithfully for ten years. Immediately upon his death, his son, Lloyd, was named interim superintendent, with Minnie as Matron, until a replacement could be found. He was buried in the mausoleum at nearby Forest Rose Cemetery. 

So where do these stories about Hummel being a horrible, abusive overseer come from? I think they stem from a combination of two things: 1. The brutal attack of Hummel by an inmate, and 2. Charges filed against ANOTHER superintendent! 

Lancaster Eagle-Gazette
30 July 1924

The Attack

On July 29th, 1924, Hummel and one of the infirmary inmates were entering the hay field across the street. All of a sudden, the inmate rushed towards Hummel, and whacked him over the head with a three foot iron bar, used to stack hay. This first blow broke Hummel's hat and stunned him, allowing the inmate to get in a second blow, causing a large laceration. Frenzied by the sight of the blood, the inmate just kept going, while Hummel, now fighting for his life, began to grapple with the man. Hummel was able to grab a wrench out the man's pocket, and hit him with it, causing the man to stop and take off running. By this time, others had seen what was going on and grabbed the crazed man. An article in the Lancaster Eagle-Gazette stated that they nearly beat the man to death, but Hummel intervened. Both were taken to the infirmary and given medical treatment, and both thankfully survived the encounter. Although the name of the inmate wasn't given, he was said to be a 36 year old man who had been at the infirmary for the last 16 years. Days prior to the attack, other inmates claimed that the man was walking around muttering, "I'm bloodthirsty. I'll kill somebody!" An interesting side not to this story is that obviously the public was upset that something like this could happen, and it brought up the discussion of whether or not 'insane' inmates should be housed with what was mostly an elderly and infirm population at the county infirmary. What we see after this event is an increase in inmates from the infirmary being brought up on lunacy charges and transferred to the state asylum in Athens.

Now, I never met Hummel. I can't say whether he was generally a likable guy or not (although newspapers paint him to be). What I can say is that I'm sure the job of superintendent wasn't an easy one. Maybe he was a little too strict in his effort to keep things running smoothly and keep everyone in line. And, whenever you have a person in authority, you're going to have those who oppose that authority, no matter what the disposition of the authority figure is. So yeah, maybe the guy was just crazy, or maybe he just had a beef with Superintendent Hummel over a real grievance, intended or not. Either way, I don't think anyone could compare Hummel with Superintendent Braden. 

In early Fall of 1851, a scathing story came out in the local Lancaster papers, calling for the removal of Superintendent Joseph Braden. It seems as if the town was divided in a bitter dispute, which sounded like it was mostly political in nature. The main issue was over how much Braden was being paid by the county, but a further charge was that Braden was an extremely cruel overseer.

Corporal punishment had been abolished at the county infirmary only that past January. When Braden started this job, it was perfectly legal, and even acceptable to use canes and wagon whips to beat unruly inmates into submission. However, Braden was accused of not only carrying on this tradition after it had been abolished, but carrying it out with an intense cruelty that went above and beyond what was necessary for order and punishment. Some came to Braden's defense and claimed that he was doing what he was told to do in his position as Superintendent, but the public testified that these beatings would occur out in broad daylight, and many were witness to the inhumane treatment of inmates. 

Whatever the true story was behind Braden, and despite his supporters, he did end up leaving the position over this controversy. You can't keep a man like Braden down, however. The following year, an article appeared in the newspaper that discussed a young, tall, bearded Captain Braden on picket with the 30th Indiana, "sporting his sword as vigorously as he once did the birchen rod."

Superintendent Hummel and Superintendent Braden seem to have very similar stories, that ended in very different ways. Both seemingly were doing their best in a difficult position, hindered by politics. Both had plenty of supporters, but also enough detractors to make one wonder what was really going on. Admittedly, in the early days of the infirmary, corporal punishment WAS the norm, a tragic realization for a location already filled with sorrow and death. I do, though, think that for the sake of narrative, the stories of Hummel and Braden were intertwined to create one entity that speaks of the symbolic nature of the tragedy that is the Fairfield County Infirmary. 

Additional Sources/Citations Coming Soon!

Fright Bite: The Meat Eater of the Fairfield County Infirmary

It's been awhile since I did a Fright Bite feature, which simply means that I don't have a ton of information on a topic...but I wanted to share it for posterity anyway! The term 'fright bite' also seems to fit rather well with today's story for another reason.

Okay, so hearing a growl on an investigation is pretty common. Whether it's a disembodied sound, or a sound captured solely on our digital recorders, a growling noise is something that many of us have dealt with. But what could be the cause of such a scary sound?

Ruling out growling bellies from team members (another common occurrence on paranormal investigations!), and ruling out living, breathing animals that may be on site, we ask ourselves, "why would a ghost growl at me?" 

Many tend to associate a growling noise with something negative, because honestly, a growl is not a welcoming, happy greeting. It's primal, a warning of impending danger, an angry sound of displeasure, that some will interpret as even being 'demonic.' It's definitely a noise we tend to pick up more often in places where suffering was widespread, especially prisons mental institutions. Those in an altered mental state, whether in life or continuing into death, might not be able to communicate any other way. And...that kind of seems like it might explain the growler of Fairfield County Infirmary. Further, there is actual historical documentation of a rather growly patient!

According to Infirmary Records compiled and published by the Fairfield Chapter of the Ohio Genealogical Society, there was a man named C.H. Jenery who was admitted to the infirmary under the care of Dr. J.M. Broyles. Dr. Broyes kept a journal of patient notes between 1855 and 1886. These notes are actually very sparse, but there is an interesting entry for Mr. Jenery.

It seems that Mr. Jenery was often referred to as "Mr. Nucence" (I'm guessing Nuisance?) "because he always growls on the account of not getting 5 lbs of beef at one meal, and says he cannot live unless he gets the above amount stated." The notes go on to further state that "we could not allow the amount, then he was discharged" on August 27, 1886. 

It's not noted whether or not Mr. Jenery was just a hungry, hungry boy or if he had some legitimate reason for wanting so much meat in one sitting. Did he think he was a werewolf? Did he suffer from low iron or Prader-Willi Syndrome? Maybe he was just really dedicated to a keto lifestyle. Whatever the case, if you find yourself investigating the Fairfield County Infirmary and hear a menacing growl, don't panic. Just tell Mr. Jenery that you hear him and understand him...and will try to bring him a burger next time. 

The Abandoned Child Bride of FCI

Lancaster Eagle-Gazette
13 June 1927

There are so many sad stories that have emerged from the Fairfield County Infirmary. For years, this imposing building was a place where the unwanted were dumped. Anyone who was too ill, too poor, too mentally impeded to take care of themselves could find themselves trapped in this institution with no way out...other than death.

One of the more pitiful cases that is often talked about is that of a 'child bride.' Married at 15 years of age, this young woman soon found herself pregnant. What should have been a joyous occasion, turned tragic when the baby was either stillborn or passed shortly after birth. The exact timeline isn't made clear, but the inconsolable young woman was abandoned by her husband and left to spend out the rest of her days at the Fairfield County Infirmary. 

This story was used as a tear-jerker/human interest piece in the December 23, 1927 edition of the Lancaster Eagle-Gazette, which annually ran a plea for the public to donate to the county infirmary and children's home. What this particular article fails to include is that this couple was reunited...SIX MONTHS EARLIER. It wasn't, however, a happy reunion.

Lancaster Eagle-Gazette
23 December, 1927

According to several articles printed in the Lancaster Eagle-Gazette in June of 1927, an elderly man named Charles Trotter showed up at the infirmary. Charles, now 76 years old, had spent his life traveling the world in search of his fortune. Never having found it, he wound up visiting the Lancaster area (where it all began) and was admitted, broke and broken, to the Fairfield County Infirmary. He was surprised to find there a patient named Bertha Trotter, now 73. Bertha was the wife he had abandoned 56 years ago. 

Charles claimed that he had been told she had died, and that was why he never came back for her. The matron of the infirmary, Mrs. Henry Hummel, asked Bertha if she was happy to see Charles after all these years. Her reply was perfect. Despite the fact that the chief complaint for her being left at the infirmary was that she could not longer 'talk very plain,' she plainly and boldly answered: "No; he left me when I needed him the most, he need not have returned." 

Unfortunately, I couldn't find any additional information on the Trotter family. I assume that both lived out the rest of their lives, together but separate, in the old Fairfield County Infirmary, but I have yet to find any confirmation as to when either actually passed. I hope, however, that their shared time at the infirmary was one of vindication for Bertha. 

Seven Foot Tall Shadow Man at Fairfield County Infirmary

Fairfield County Infirmary
'Dungeon' Area

Hey, hey, it's time for another installment of my deep-dive into the haunted history of the Fairfield County Infirmary, located in Lancaster, Ohio! Since SRI will be returning their soon, I wanted to delve into some of the reported paranormal activity and just see what type of historical documentation I could find that may help back up those claims. 

There's really no 'dead' (pun intended) area of the old infirmary; activity takes places on all four floors, and everything from full-body apparitions to phantom voices has been witnessed. Shadow people are extremely common, popping in and out of doorways and blocking the light at the end of long corridors. But, there's a shadow being at FCI that's a little out of the ordinary. In the attic of the old county home, there has been reported a dark, towering figure standing at least SEVEN FEET TALL! 

By some accounts, this super tall shadowy being can grow to 8 or 9 feet, but generally he's clocked in at around 7 feet. Now, humans are notoriously bad at estimating size, but there does seem to be a very consistent flow of people witnessing a shadow that is at least much taller than the average person. Let's take a look at some possible explanations for this phenomenon.

Firstly, though, let's get some background on the area. The fourth floor attic space has been used for quite a few things over the years. Before a proper orphanage could be built in the latter part of the 1800's, one whole side was dedicated to housing the children of the poor farm. In later years, the attic was where transients could 'rent' a space to stay by working the fields. More disturbingly, though, is the fact that the attic was where the 'dungeon' was located. The dungeon was an area where the most incorrigible 'inmates' were chained to the wall for an indeterminate time. If the 'jail cells' on the lower floor didn't straighten you out after 24 hours, you were sent to the attic for punishment. There's also a small section of the attic now called the 'Chicken Coop,' denoted by a space with a chicken wire door, that the most mentally ill patients were said to have been kept. 

With that sort of history, it's easy to see how this area could gain a haunted reputation. SRI has personally had some interesting activity recorded in the attic, including having a REM pod's batteries removed and thrown on the floor in the orphanage area. And while we did see several shadowy 'things,' we unfortunately didn't experience the 7 foot tall Shadow Man. So what could cause an entity of this size to haunt the Fairfield County Infirmary? Here are a few theories:

1. The IR Shadow

Before we even consider the idea that there's a 7 foot tall shadow being, we have to rule out the idea of natural causes. Are witnesses just seeing the shadow of a living person that looks larger due to the placement of the light source? Are they seeing the shadow of some inanimate object that just appears human-like under the right circumstances? Or, are they experiencing an IR shadow witnessed through the lens of their camera? An IR shadow is simply a shadow where the light source is an infrared light. It is not visible with the naked eye, but will show up on your camera in pictures/video. And, like a regular shadow, depending on the angle and placement of the light source, can cause the subject to appear taller than it actually is. 

2. Ghost of a Really Tall Dude

If we are dealing with an actual paranormal entity, specifically a deceased human entity, is it possible that there could be a ghost who was actually 7+ feet tall in life? As stated earlier, humans are notoriously bad at estimating height, especially when only catching a fleeting glimpse. Still, with the average male only being around 5'6'' to 5'7'' in 1900, you wouldn't think that so many people would be overestimating by so much. However, I was able to find an interesting article about Benjamin "Toppy" Parot, who lived at the county infirmary, and unfortunately died there as well. Toppy was cited as being over 6 feet, 4 inches tall in his stocking feet. It was said that his casket was among the largest ever furnished by the county home. 

Lancaster Eagle-Gazette
30 January 1915

Source: Find-a-Grave

3. Ghost of a Not-So-Tall Dude

While Toppy Parot was considered rather tall for his time, there are plenty of other 'inmates' of the infirmary who passed away, some of which who would inevitably make that transition after spending a significant amount of time in the attic...or who actually did die in that space. One gentleman who attempted to take his life in that space was Seward Wagner. Wagner climbed out a skylight and jumped off the room, injuring himself. He passed shortly after. But why would Wagner, or any other potential ghost show up so tall? I found an interesting explanation given by Patience, one of the tour guides at FCI. Patience explains that the attic area isn't exactly on one consistent floor level, especially around the cupola area. What if the shadow person only LOOKS like its taller...but is in fact, 'standing' on flooring that is 18 inches taller than surrounding areas?

Lancaster Eagle-Gazette
11 February 1950

Lancaster Eagle-Gazette
17 February 1950

4. Ghost/Energy Manifesting in a Way We Don't Understand

One last thing to consider is that perhaps we're just dealing with a matter of our understanding of OUR physical world doesn't quite mesh up with the physics of 'their' world. Perhaps a human entity can choose how it manifests, and this particular being chooses to manifest in a way that appears intimidating and large. Maybe it's more symbolic; maybe there is no actual 'ghost,' but something more elemental, or even a collection of energy that represents a large, angry, oppressive entity. It's these types of questions that keep me in this field, always trying to find another piece of the puzzle. As Spectral Research and Investigations return to the Fairfield County Infirmary this month, we'll be working to answer these questions and inevitably, uncovering additional questions to ponder as well.  Stay spooky, ya'll...and keep an eye out for more FCI articles being posted on Theresa's Haunted History!

Tragedy at Fairfield County Infirmary: Jane's Story

Welcome to another post in my deep dive series into the history and hauntings of Lancaster Ohio's Fairfield County Infirmary (FCI)! FCI has been investigated numerous times since being purchased by current owner, Adam Kimmell in 2020 and being turned into a premier paranormal investigation attraction. Countless teams have gathered data and had experiences, adding to the lore that already existed, much of which comes to us from former employees/visitors to the building when it served as county offices.

One resident ghost that gets a lot of attention is an elderly woman named Jane Householder. There have been various apparitions of an elderly woman seen, sometimes with a gray bun, other times with dark, curly hair, but almost always wearing a white dress. She's seen mainly in the second floor area, but has also been reported in the attic. On occasion, people have claimed to have seen this woman enveloped in flames.

Whether or not people are seeing and communicating with the same entity or not, the majority of these experiences are attributed to Jane and her tragic demise at the Fairfield County Infirmary in the 1920's. Depending on who you ask, the details change slightly, but the basic story goes that Jane, an elderly woman living in the county home, died when her dress caught fire. In some versions of the story, Jane is reported as having been rebelling because the staff told her to stay in her room. Angry at being told what to do, she went to light the stove (or a match) and an accelerant of some type on her dress caused it to quickly catch fire. In other versions, she had lit the stove to stay warm. Occasionally, the story is told as happening on the fourth floor (but as you'll see below, it probably didn't). 

A newspaper article from the Lancaster Daily Gazette, dated March 22, 1929 clears up some of the details of what happened. Here's the article transcribed in its entirety (source: Ancestry.com Newspaper Archives):

AGED WOMAN DIES OF BURNS AT COUNTY HOME

Literally cooked alive when her clothing caught fire from a gas stove, Miss Jane Householder, 73 year old inmate of the Fairfield County Infirmary since March 11, 1891, was burned so badly about 4 p.m. Thursday that she died at 1 o clock this morning.

The aged woman had recently been ill with a cold and Miss Mae McCall, the institution nurse, was treating her in her room. About 3:30 o clock the nurse cautioned her to remain in room, believing the aged woman should not expose herself to possibilities of contracting a more severe illness.

Accident Unwitnessed

But she did not obey the nurse and came down to the room where the women spend their afternoons chatting. No one was in the room at the time and it is not known just how her clothing caught fire from the stove but ashes, found in the stove later by Supt. Zeph Musser, indicated she had burned something in it.

Her screams attracted the nurse and another employee, Mrs. McClurg. When they got to her the victim of the tragedy had run into an adjoining room and was standing at a hydrant enveloped in a sheet of flame and trying to extinguish the fire.

The two attendants threw rugs around the woman's body, smothering the flames and then dashed water over her. However by that time her clothing had been practically burned off. Her body was almost entirely charred.

Blamed Self

As they carried her to her room, she moaned, "Oh! If I had only done what the nurses told me to." Dr. Clifford B. Snider was summoned to the institution and did about all humanely possible for her, but she had been so hopelessly burned that medical science could do little to save her life, except possibly prolong it. 

Records at the county home classified the aged inmate as somewhat feeble-minded. 

Sup.t Musser went to Bremen today in an effort to learn the whereabouts of even a distant relative, although it is believed she had no living relatives. 

"I cannot blame anyone for the accident," Sup.t Musser said this morning, "for it was just one of those unavoidable tragedies."

Musser explained that other inmates were nearly all on an upper floor at the time of the accident preparing for the supper hour and for this reason and because she had failed to obey the nurse, accounted for her being alone when her clothing was ignited.

Stove Examined

The superintendent said he had examined the stove and turned the gas on full, but failed to find anyplace where the flames come out of the stove when the gas was burning high.

It is believed that the woman thought it was not quite warm enough in the room and attempted to increase the heat by burning something in the stove.

The body was taken to the Johnson-Orr Funeral Home and prepared for burial.

Funeral services will be conducted Saturday afternoon at 1:30 o clock at the county home with Rev. A. Orr officiating. Internment will be made in the institution cemetery by Johnson and Orr. 

Jane Catherine Askins Householder was born in Fairfield County on June 2, 1856 to Gustavus Askins and Margaret Hill Askins. Her father was killed in battle during the Civil War, leaving her mother to raise five children alone, with minimal help from grandparents living nearby. Jane (who may have gone by Catherine during her childhood) married a man named Andrew Householder on February 26, 1876, at just 19 years old. While 19 was an acceptable marriage age for a woman during that time...her husband was actually 30 years her senior, and already had several children of his own, including one who was a year older than Jane herself. Andrew passed away in December of 1890, and shortly after, the now-widowed Jane was sent to the Fairfield County Infirmary to be cared for. She was only in her mid-30's. (Info from Ancestry.com census records and Find-a-Grave)

Although the newspaper article states that she was somewhat feeble-minded at the time of her death, chances are, Jane was a perfectly 'normal' woman when she was brought to FCI.  She may, however, been considered a little slow. While going back over old census records, Jane apparently was sent to school early on, but she's often listed on census reports as not being able to read or write. Either way, one thing remained the same: She was a WOMAN, whose husband and her father were  both deceased, and she had no other relatives willing or able to support her. Not only did she live out the rest of her mortal life at the infirmary, she was buried in the on-site cemetery. No wonder she feels like she must spend the rest of her eternity at this place. 

 Taking a step back, as I said before, Jane (or a similar apparition) has been reported in the attic, and this, combined with the idea that there is fire damage visible on that floor has led many to believe that this tragic death happened on the fourth floor. While the newspaper article makes it clear it did NOT, there was an earlier fire that did do damage to this area.

On Tuesday, May 19th, 1925 fire broke out in the Fairfield County Infirmary. Frank Engle of a neighboring farm was the first to notice flames coming from the kitchen chimney at the north end of the building around 4 pm. He ran to alert the staff, and attendant, Miss Bertha Fisher, sounded the fire alarm. At the same time, Paul Hummel, the son of the superintendent, was arriving home from high school. He ran in and grabbed a fire hose from the second floor. A car full of young men traveling by saw the commotion and stopped to help. 

Assistant Chief Ed Rockey, along with firemen Cave and Craft were first on the scene with a pumper truck. Chemical tanks were brought up to the fourth floor, and were able to effectively stop the spread of the fire, which was lucky because the only water to the infirmary came from the wells out back, fed by the spring which runs under the property. Although filled the day before, they had a tendency to run dry. A second alarm was called in, and more firemen, carrying more hoses and filling up the pumper truck at a local creek arrived to help out. Thanks to low winds and an enormous volunteer effort, all 58 residents escaped with their lives. Despite flames leaping 25 feet in the air through the roof around the cupola, the fire was brought under control about 5:30pm, yet not before extensive damage was done. The attic had been gutted, and the fire broken through the floor to the level below. In total, about $3000 worth of damage was done. Below is a clipping from the Lancaster Eagle-Gazette, dated 20 May 1925:

The Haunted History of the Fairfield County Infirmary

In mid-January, the Spectral Research and Investigation team will once again head to Lancaster, Ohio to investigate the Fairfield County Infirmary. Although this is the second trip for most of us, and a third trip for some, we're really looking forward to once again visiting this magnificent old building filled with the haunted memories of its unfortunate past. Although historical research was conducted for previous investigations, as part of my newly appointed role of Lead Historian for SRI, I wanted to take a deep, DEEP dive into some of the stories that make up the lore of FCI. I'll be sharing those throughout the next few days, but first, a brief overview...

The best way to describe the Fairfield County Infirmary is as a place for the unwanted. After the state of Ohio decided that each county should have a centralized home for its poor and indigent, county poor farms or 'infirmaries' were set up, taking these poor, unfortunate souls out of private homes and into a group setting. Before 1828 when the Fairfield County Infirmary was built, 'overseers of the poor' set up those less fortunate in private homes, awarding a 'contract' of sorts to the lowest bidder. The caretaker offered space and their supposed 'love and care' for a small stipend to cover the pauper's food, medical care, and other necessities. As you can imagine, there was probably plenty of room for abuse of the system. 

Unfortunately, the solution was not perfect. The original infirmary building was quickly found to be too small, so additions were made in the 1840's, and again right after the Civil War. During those years of expansion, a multitude of outbuildings were constructed and the property boundaries were extended to accommodate a pretty self-sufficient county farm. But, as beautiful as the brick building appeared, and as productive as the farm seemed, things inside weren't great by any means, especially in the early days.

Throughout much of the infirmary's history, it truly was a place where the unwanted could be unceremoniously dumped for a variety of reasons. If you could not take care of yourself for any reason, whether it be due to poverty, sickness/injury, old age, mental illness and/or deficiency, being widowed, or simply being a transient coming through town with little to nothing in your pockets, you could easily find yourself taken to the infirmary and remaining there for the rest of your life (and possibly beyond).

Although attempts were made at some segregation (women and men had separate wings and up until a separate orphanage was built in 1886 children were kept on the fourth floor) the sick, the crippled, the mentally ill, everyone...was just housed together. Those who could work were forced to do so, either out on the farm or taking care of domestic tasks around the home, including caring for the more severe patients, or inmates, as they were all called, regardless of status. Children were born to mothers staying there, many of whom were not of sound mind to consent. Many of those children were either taken away and given up for adoption, but many others would never know life outside the infirmary walls. 

Beginning at the turn of the century, and as more and more social programs began to help those less fortunate, improvements did seem to be happening. Those who were suffering from extreme mental illness were petitioned to be transferred to the asylum at Athens. Civic groups raised money for Christmas gifts, ice cream socials became the norm, and groups would come in and sing and/or play music for the 'inmates.' But, even those improvements could not take away from the suffering and tragedy...and death. 

Reports of abusive and/or negligent superintendents, ranging from nearly the beginning of the institution's operation (more on that in another blog!) are told, as well as probable inmate-on-inmate abuse. Death was a common occurrence, especially since most of the inmates were elderly and/or infirm, but reports of fatal accidents, suicide, and even violence were not unheard of. 

The Fairfield County Infirmary was in operation until 1985, when the remaining patients were finally put into nursing care facilities or placed with foster families. The following year, the county took over the building as headquarters for its various health department offices, renamed it the Clarence E. Miller Building,  and made some structural changes to meet fire codes. The most notable of these is the enclosure of several staircases, giving the building some interesting architectural features! It was during the building's tenure as the health department offices that its haunted reputation began. Workers began noticing strange sounds, like footsteps and voices coming from unoccupied areas of the buildings. Objects would be moved around. Phones from empty offices would ring into other offices. Apparitions were even seen...

By 2011, it was pretty apparent that the old building needed some major upgrades, and by 2013, the county health department had moved out. With the old farm area across the road being sold decades before to a local university, the much smaller property with a dilapidated brick structure sat vacant for some time, looking for a buyer. The site was considered by a local real estate investment firm as potential apartments, but that fell through, especially after it was discovered that the on-site cemetery far exceeded its distinguished boundaries, and that there were probably bodies buried across the entirety of the property. For one season, Habitat for Humanity ran a haunted house attraction, but when it came up on the auction block, Adam Kimmel was the lucky bidder. There's an interesting story that Kimmel was told there was another investor vying for the property and was tempted to put in quite a high bid. However, a ghostly little child from the property told him that there were no other bidders, and thus, he won the FCI with a low-ball offer. It is now ran as a year-round mecca for paranormal researchers and ghost hunters, by Kimmel and his partner, who own several more properties around the midwest for the same purpose. 

With literally hundreds of investigation teams pouring into Fairfield since 2020, the activity experienced does tend to fluctuate a bit, but there are some hauntings that are told as canon. In addition to the general activity of footsteps and disembodied voices, there have been reports of apparitions of a doctor figure, and several of an older woman wearing white. Children are heard laughing and running in an area now set up as the boys' playroom. Shadow figures are a constant, with shadowy beings darting in and out of rooms down dark halls, and even a seven foot tall shadow seen in the attic area. People have been scratched or bruised, and some have felt extremely ill, especially after visiting the morgue area. A little ghost girl named Susie is often reported, as is a male ghost who calls himself Willie. Some believe the apparition of the woman (or ONE of the female apparitions) is none other than Jane Householder, an elderly lady who burned to death in the 1920's. 

From my own personal research, I've also noticed that many investigative teams have had great success with the Estes Method of communication, where the 'sitter' is listening to a spirit box, while other investigators ask questions, hoping for a response. The sitter cannot hear what the other investigators are asking, hopefully eliminating some of the audio pareidolia of looking for answers that 'fit.' Through this method, not only have they received intelligent responses, but will often get the names of owners and staff at FCI, along with their own names and names of fellow investigators on site. 

The most active areas of the old infirmary tend to be the attic, which was used both as an orphanage and as a 'dungeon,' where the most incorrigible inmates were kept, the third floor 'women's cell,' where those committing minor offenses were held for up to 24 hours, and the morgue/autopsy area. However, there doesn't seem to be any location within the four floors that isn't active, a fact that is attributed to both the amount of tragedy and death that took place there, a spring that runs directly under the building, giving an unending supply of energy, and an odd fact about the cemetery out back that may contribute to those buried there being unable to rest in peace.  We'll explore some of these topics and stories in further blogs, which I'll link to below as they are published. Also, if you're interested in the investigative side of Fairfield County Infirmary, please check out the YouTube playlist I compiled, highlighting some of teams that have filmed here. 

Fairfield County Infirmary YouTube Playlist

Fairfield County Infirmary Collection

 An FCI Christmas Story

The Story of Jane Householder

Seven Foot Tall Shadow Man

A Defense of Superintendent Hummel

An (Un)Happy Reunion at FCI

The Growling Man of Fairfield County Infirmary

Dolph Griggs

Plane Crash at FCI

The Fairfield County Infirmary Cemetery *Coming Soon*

Body Snatching at FCI *Coming Soon*

A Christmas Story from Fairfield County Infirmary

The Spectral Research and Investigations team has had a busy, busy year, which we wrapped up this weekend with a small holiday get-together. After a period of food, fun, and friends, with our buddy Raymond Newsome from Newsome Paranormal and his family joining us, the SRI team went back to work, planning for another great year in 2024. One thing that was decided was to make a return trip to the Fairfield County Infirmary near Lancaster, Ohio. The team has investigated this location once before on our own, and once as guests of WVPI (check out the FCI video HERE). But, since we have several new members that hadn't been a part of those investigations, we felt this was a location that we needed to revisit. 

That got me going on another research spree, and as I perused the newspaper archives, I started noticing a pattern. Throughout the 1910's, 1920's, and even into the 1930's, every December the local newspaper ran little features by 'The Santa Claus Club,' asking citizens to help make the Christmas season a little brighter for both the children at the Children's Home, and the mostly elderly residents of the Fairfield County Infirmary. Fruit, candy, magazines, interesting books, and tobacco products were among the most wished for items at the infirmary, as these were nice little extra luxuries to supplement the already well taken care of needs of the patients. 

In an effort to further humanize these poor souls and appeal to the charitable side of the readers, these articles often contained some human interest-type stories from infirmary residents. Most of the time, these were just short blurbs featuring a brief rundown of the circumstances which led to the patients being admitted to the infirmary, or even a short quote about their feelings on the place. However, in 1922, the local paper really outdid itself with its featured Fairfield tale.  The following is an excerpt which appeared in the Lancaster-Eagle Gazette on December 16, 1922:

WONDERFUL XMAS STORY

Comes from Fairfield County Infirmary---Read It and Then Help

Truth is stranger than fiction, so runs the old adage, and a story that came from the Fairfield County Infirmary last week tends to confirm the ancient saying. 

A high powered car with a chauffeur at the wheel stopped at the institution, while a gray haired gentleman of apparent refinement stepped from the car and making his way to the office made known his errand. He asked if he might be permitted to look about the premises, stating that he was raised there as a child seventy years ago. The matron Mrs. Hummell escorted him about the building and he inquired for the room in which he had been raised. Being unable to find it, he was finally ushered up to the attic, which by the way is a finished one, and in recent years has been used for storage only.

The infirmary was built eighty years ago and for a long time was used both as Infirmary and Children's Home. Upon entering the attic the aged man exclaimed, "Yes, this is the room in which I was raised," and then he told the following remarkable story to the matron:

"Seventy years ago this Christmas, my mother took me covered over in a basket into the railway depot at Lancaster and she said to another woman sitting there, will you kindly watch this basket  for a few moments while I step across the street. My mother never returned and all that I know about her is that she was well dressed and apparently a woman of refinement. I was warranted to the County Infirmary, and at ten years of age I was adopted by a good family. Today I own two of the largest shoe stores in Dayton and I am a man of wealth, but I would gladly give every dollar that I possess if I could but find my mother.

For many years I have advertised and searched through many Infirmaries, hoping against hope that I may find her. While my life has been crowned with success in a business way, still I feel that it has been a great failure on account of not being able to find my mother. I have gone through life with an aching heart. I have never married as I feared that that step might interfere with my search."

The stranger's card read James G. Randolph.

How we found our REM
Pod. No one had been in this
section of the building. This was the
attic space said to house the 
children. 

I couldn't tell you how much of this, and other stories posted in these features was true, and how much was made up to tug at the heartstrings. It's certainly plausible, though. We do have documentation that the infirmary was home to many children during its early years, as a dedicated Children's Home for the area wasn't established until the 1880's. And, during our last trip there, we were told that a portion of the attic space was where the youngest patients (or inmates, as they were often called) were housed. In fact...it was in this space where we may have actually interacted with a child spirit. And, it was the location where we found a piece of our equipment  with the back battery compartment removed and the battery on the floor...despite the fact that no one had been in that area. 

As we get closer to the big day, I'll be posting more information and other interesting tidbits about this really cool location, which served as Fairfield's 'poor farm' and home for those who could not care for themselves between 1848 and 1985. That long of a stretch means there's plenty of opportunity for some crazy stuff to have been documented. But, I wanted to get this little Christmas story out in time for the holidays and to act as a little teaser to the new year ahead. SRI looks forward to investigating some great locations in 2024, and sharing our adventures with you! Please subscribe to our YouTube Channel and follow us on Facebook for more information. 

Have a wonderful holiday season, a very Merry Christmas, and as always...Stay Spooky!

Circleville UFO!

The Circleville Herald
28 March 1957

Happy World UFO Day!

If you've followed this blog for awhile, you know I love to post a fun UFO-related story every year on July 2nd in honor of this most esteemed holiday, and this year is no exception. But, this post is coming at you from the past; I'm writing it on June 30th because today I'll be recovering from Spectral Research and Investigation's follow-up investigation of the Gregg-Crites Octagon House in Circleville, Ohio. We absolutely had such a great night there a few months ago, that we had to return. 

It's actually the Octagon House, though, that has inspired today's blog. Well, not the Octagon House, exactly, but the town of Circleville, Ohio. Not only is this unique lil' hamlet full of haunted history and ghost stories...it's also known for quite a few UFO sightings. Strange aerial phenomenon continues up through today, but it all started in February of 1948.

C. Bruce Stevenson was a farmer who lived just outside of Circleville. Everyone who knew him attested that he was an honest, hardworking man who would never lie or make up stories. That's why it came as somewhat of a shock to the locals when in August of 1952, the Circleville Herald ran a story about Stevenson. That summer, the country was abuzz with talk of UFOs. 1952 saw a huge UFO flap across the eastern United States, with reports of flying saucers even flying over the Washington, DC. Skeptics and believers were hashing it out over the validity of visitors from other planets and people from all walks of life were following the events.

That's when Bruce Stevenson decided to share his story that he had been keeping a secret for four years out of fear of ridicule. Back in February of 1948 Bruce saw a UFO over his farm.

It was a cold, moonlit night early in the month, and there was snow on the ground. Bruce awoke around 2am, and while getting a drink of water, looked out the kitchen window and saw what he at first thought were flames. Afraid that one of his farm buildings was on fire, he headed outside in that direction. What he saw was way bigger than any fire.

Bruce reported that a strange craft slowly and silently floated over his tool building, no more than 150 feet away from him. The craft was saucer shaped, with a silvery underbody containing portholes or vents. On top sat an 8 foot tall dome filled with a glowing amber/orange light that dulled slightly when he approached. It was the amber light that he originally mistook for fire. The base measured about 60 feet across and something whirled beneath, making no noise and causing no motion on the base itself.  

After watching the craft for a few moments go over the roof of the tool building and a building containing the farm's hogs, it floated on away and into the night. And, for four years, Bruce stayed tight-lipped about what he saw. When he finally contacted the newspaper, he remained adamant that what he saw was not an air pocket, a reflection, or any other natural phenomenon. On his behalf, the newspaper reached out to Wright Patterson Airforce Base to report the sighting, but they simply acknowledged they had received the letter and never followed up. Bruce's daughter would later tell reporters that a retired military officer DID come to visit her dad after he reported it in 1952. 

Over the years, more people would report strange lights and mysterious craft in the Circleville area. One such witness, Pete Hartinger, has had at least four sightings beginning with his first in 1958. Inspired by his own experiences, as well as the Bruce Stevenson case (which is now regarded as one of the best eyewitness UFO sightings in history), Pete took action. In 1985, he and several others formed the Roundtown UFO Society. The society still meets once a month to study, investigate, and document the UFO phenomenon in Circleville and beyond. 

Dipping into the UFO history of Circleville, OH has made me even more anxious for our investigation, and I'll certainly be keeping my eyes to the skies in addition to huntin' for ghosties. 

For more information on this case, please check out the Project 1947 website. It includes a letter written by the Circleville Herald writer, as well as an essay by Pete Hartinger about the Stevenson sighting! 

'Get Away' From This Haunted House!

The Baltimore Sun
12 September 1915

I applaud this un-named gentleman and his bravery! Back in September of 1915, there was an old house located in Lawrence County, Ohio that had developed a reputation for being haunted. Located just outside the small town of Getaway, the home was formerly owned by Reverend Elisha Thacker, a Baptist minister who had passed away back in 1910. 

In the five years since the Reverend's passing only one family had rented the vacant home, but was so spooked they had to leave after just one night. After that, no one dared set foot in the home, either in daylight nor at night. They did, however, find the courage to throw a countless number of rocks through the window at the alleged goblins. 

But that all changed that September when finally, one guy decided to enter the house. He reported that he found no signs of ghosts or goblins in the former Thacker residence...just lots and lots and lots of rocks. 

I'm pretty sure the old 'haunted' house is gone, but you can still visit the Thackers in their final resting place at the Harmony Baptist Cemetery. Reverend Thacker, who was born in 1828, served during the Civil War as a chaplain with the Union Army. He and his first wife, Melcina/Melceda lived in Wayne County, WV before settling in Lawrence County, Ohio and establishing a church there. When Melcina died, she became the first person buried in the Harmony Baptist Cemetery. Reverend Thacker would follow on August 20, 1910, and his 2nd wife, Josephine, would be laid to rest in 1931. 

There's a funny story related to Elisha Thacker and the naming of the town of Getaway. The little town was previously known as Unionville, or even Russell's Place until one day in 1870 when a surly stranger stopped by the Thacker property to chat with the reverend, who happened to be building a fence along the road. The stranger didn't seem too impressed with the area, and when he asked the name of the location, a frustrated Thacker replied with 'Get Away!' The stranger noted that it was a fitting name for such a town, and thus, the legend of how Getaway got its name was born!

It's too bad that this haunting was 'debunked'---I have my reservations based on lack of information in the article, lol. Just because one dude says it isn't haunted doesn't PROVE anything, just the same as you can't prove that it IS haunted. Anyway, I rather enjoy the possibility of a haunted house with the ghost of an old Reverend just yelling "Get Away!!!" at passersby!

Further Reading:

The Lawrence Register

Find-a-Grave

Portsmouth's Haunted House

 

Today's blog is another vintage newspaper article that I've stashed away. It comes from the May 11, 1868 edition of the Wheeling Daily Register, and made the front page of the paper!  In this tale, a man suspects that the ghost plaguing his family may not necessarily be sent from the grave. He sets a trap for the ghost, and in a twist straight out of a Scooby Doo episode, finds out that the entity is none other than his own shady neighbor, who has been trying to underhandedly depreciate the value of the property so he can buy it for an optimal price. You know I love a good antique ghost story, but I also have a soft spot for these debunking tales of old.  Here's the story as it appeared in the newspaper:

A gentleman living near Portsmouth, Ohio, has identified a ghost. His family had been often annoyed by ghostly visitations during his absence. He concluded to "possum" absence, but watch at home for the spook. The Tribune says: "About midnight his ghostship appeared and commenced his 'spiritual manifestations.' The watcher, with revolver in hand, slyly slipped to the door, opened it suddenly, and laid violent hands upon his visitant. Bringing him into the house, a light was struck, the "winding sheet" torn off, and there stood revealed, to his astonished gaze, the form of one of his neighbors, who had long been anxious to purchase the 'haunted house,' and had taken this course to depreciate its value. He went down upon his knees and begged his captor not to expose him, and he, after a judicious application of cow-hide, turned the rascal out. The house has not be 'haunted' since."

I hope you enjoyed that humorous lil' tale as much as I did! And on a serious note, Spectral Research and Investigations (SRI) is currently looking to expand into Ohio and Kentucky! If you own or have access to a building YOU think may be haunted, we'd love to come check it out! We'd prefer to focus on businesses, historic homes, museums, hotels/inns, and similar locations. We are also willing to accept private residences on a case by case basis. If you'd be interested in speaking to my team about possibly setting up an investigation of your location throughout the tri-state area of West Virginia, Kentucky, and Ohio, please see our website, or send us a message on Facebook! 

Happy Veterans Day from Theresa's Haunted History!

 On behalf of Theresa's Haunted History of the Tri-State, I want to wish all those who have served, are currently serving, or who will serve a very Happy Veterans Day! I'd also like to give a shout out to the families of our service men and women who have also had to sacrifice so much for our country.  Have a wonderful day! 

Here are a few Veteran themed posts from Theresa's Haunted History that you can check out today!

Veterans' Memorial Hospital in Pomeroy, Ohio

Thomas Memorial Hospital in South Charleston, WV

Paul's Story, a family ghost tale

Soldier's Memorial Theater, Beckley, WV

Cold Hands: My Experience at the Ridges (Athens, Ohio)

Are your hands ALWAYS cold?  Mystery solved! Personally, this is one issue I don't have to deal with, although I do have a fitting story about holding hands with a ghost!  Way back in the spring of 2002, my friend and I went to visit another friend at Ohio University in Athens, Ohio.  The entire TOWN of Athens seems to have a spooky past, with plenty of ghost stories associated with the campus itself.  While visiting, we went to check out The Ridges, a former asylum complex that the school had taken over.  A local guy who our friend had met while at school was showing us around the outside of some of the buildings and giving us a little history lesson on the area. When we got to the area where the former children's building was, my two friends decided to stay in the car, while I went up the hill with this local guy to where the building was located.  We were only up there a few minutes when we heard screaming coming from the car, so we started back off down the hill.  As I walked away from the building, I felt something cold touch my hand, causing me to just sort of freeze in place.  I'm thinking this dude is getting a little too handsy, but I look and he's already halfway down the hill, way too far away from me to have touched me.  After I realized that I was alone, I realized that the touch really did feel like a small child slipping his or her hand into my hand.  I took a second to look back at the building, and gently tell whoever or whatever had touched me that I had to go now and that it needed to stay there.

As far as I know, nothing followed me home that evening.  As for the screaming coming from the car---my friends had been trying to operate the micro-cassette recorder I had borrowed from my mom for ghost hunting purposes, lol.  Somehow, the recorder got put into fast-forward mode, and they were startled at the crazed, chipmunk-like voices of one of my mom's meetings being played back! The next morning, my friend and I returned to the area for some day-time photos.  This one is of me on the stairway to the building where the incident occurred. My little visitor who held my hand the night before was nowhere to be found, but I walked away from the experience grateful that I had had the opportunity for such an interaction.

 Anyway, if you suffer from constantly cold hands, just make sure to mention it to your doctor in order to rule out any circulatory or other issues.  Also, this cute lil' graphic comes from In Your Face Cake. You can check them out on Twitter and Instagram for more comics!

BONUS

My experience at the Ridges wasn't the only time in my life where I believe I physically interacted with a ghost!  As I was rushing down the hallway of my mom's house, I think I may have crashed right into (or through) our disembodied roommate!  You can read all about that experience here:  The Day I Walked Through a Ghost