Tuesday, October 17, 2017

Katherine: The Lady of Gray's Mill


As some of you may know, I started investigating paranormal activity in 1977. Back then, there were very few investigators of unexplained phenomena. This particular investigation was conducted in 1984 at a location near my workplace. Some of Maryland’s most interesting history occurred along the Pataspco River. From Parr’s Spring to Elkridge, the river valley’s geography goes from a cold piedmont stream to a rugged, rocky gorge into a coastal plain. Many of my investigations have been in locations closely related to the river. Many paranormal investigators have concentrated on locales around Ellicott City. I like to dive deeper into the Pataspco River’s haunted history:

This investigation took place in August 1984 in a location ½ mile downstream from the Frederick Rd. bridge at Ellicott City on River Rd. River Rd. veers right from Frederick Rd. and descends to the river bank. As soon as the road levels, about 400 ft. from the turn, you will see the back wall of an old building against the hillside. Above this wall is a BG&E sub-station (on Frederick Rd.). This property is also owned by BG&E, though at the time of this investigation there was more building structure and the area was accessible to most anyone.

This area is historically known as Gray’s Mill. It was originally a Methodist Church later enlarged and fitted as a paper mill. In fact, it was advertised in 1807 as the “largest paper mill in the U.S.” Edward Gray and other investors soon purchased the mill and transformed it into a major cotton duck plant. After a major fire, Gray rebuilt the plant into the largest cotton cloth mills in the U.S. and named it the Patapsco Manufacturing Company.

Gray built a large mansion adjacent to the mill where he, his wife and daughters lived happily for many years. In 1829, Gray’s daughter Elizabeth married John Pendleton Kennedy and the couple lived together in the mansion. Kennedy was a well known writer and lawyer in Baltimore who had reached the pinnacle of social status at a fairly young age. He entered politics and was elected to Congress, and later was appointed Secretary of the Navy under President Millard Fillmore. The list of guests and friends who visited and stayed at his home was remarkable. Edgar Allen Poe, James Fennimore Cooper, Washington Irving, Charles Dickens, Andrew Jackson, Commodore Perry, James Madison, Francis Scott Key and many more important writers and statesmen spent time at this mansion.

Kennedy’s library was said to be the most impressive private library in the country containing many European first editions and works of famous friends that were never published. As well, Kennedy had a spectacular garden and grove. Washington Irving was known to spend many evenings sitting among the trees gazing onto the river. Elizabeth Kennedy would stand on the river bank and wave an American flag as the Union soldiers would hoot and holler from the train on the west bank of the river heading for Baltimore. All this would change in 1868 when the flood of the century swept through the valley and washed most of the mansion and contents away. The Kennedy’s were devastated and forced to move from their beloved valley.

Gray's Mill Mansion - engraving from 1867

For several years, I had been told about strange lights and mists that eminated from the mansion area onto River Rd. at night. For many years previous, the river bank was a hangout spot for local kids until the state built mounds and barriers on the riverbank that blocked cars from parking. The sightings began after the parking areas were removed and the area was quiet in the evening hours. I had personally noticed fog in this area because it is swampy and there is a small drainage stream that flows through the location. I decided to investigate on a night when there would be minimal traffic on River Rd. (namely when the mill down river was shutdown).

I received permission to park my car on a small private lot on Frederick Rd. and walked down River Rd. to the Gray’s Mill location. A friend who had worked with me previously accompanied me to the site. We decided to walk around the grounds as best we could and see if we could observe any activity. We started at 7:30 pm and used the remaining light to get our bearings to which areas of the site we would concentrate. The weather was very warm and humid in the mid 80’s and clear.

I decided we would stick together because of the swampy terrain. We setup along the mansion remnants that included large pieces of granite strewn randomly. There is a small part of the back wall remaining, so we sat there and waited. As dusk came, the area comes alive with “peepers”, small frogs singing in the moonlight. Behind the wall is a high bank that extends up towards “9 Mile Hill” onto Frederick Rd. We could barely hear the traffic on the main road above and behind us. It was very peaceful as the river rippled through the valley and the moonlight bounced off the water provided dancing lights against the opposite bank.

Around 10:30 pm, we heard sounds on the hill directly behind us. I figured it was a raccoon or a possum looking for a meal. After a couple of minutes, I heard a rustling in the high weeds to our left and could see movement. I pointed the flashlight towards the area and noticed nothing. As soon as I turned the flashlight off, I sensed a presence of something. My friend suddenly commented that he felt a chill sweep by his right ear. The being I sensed was definitely that of a woman. She seemed to be joyful and was definitely enjoying herself. I started to get a deeper sense of this spirit and started to 'see' the name Katherine. There were a few cold spots along the wall but there was no vibration normally associated with a vortex. Her presence continued off & on for another half hour. I tried to get an indication from this spirit if she was aware we were present. I walked around to see if I could get a better gauge of the presence. The best sign we could get was an occasional sweeping sound in the high grass.

Gray's Mill, MD - engraving from 1865

This activity continued past midnight until we noticed a scent of honeysuckle. There were no honeysuckle bushes in the area and the scent was getting very strong, almost to the point of being sickening. Then we noticed her! Directly in front of us at a distance of about 20 yards we became aware of the misty shape of a woman with blonde or gray hair in a light blue dress moving left to right, then proceeding towards the road. Then she would move back towards us. It was a very spooky sight because it seemed she would “light up” occasionally revealing her facial features and hair. We watched this for a few minutes when I decided to try to communicate. I slowly got to my feet and walked towards her. I stopped and watched her move around me when suddenly she started moving towards me. Instantly, I was hit in the face with that sickly honeysuckle scent, this time it made my eyes and nose burn. I tried to look around me but could not see nor sense her. My eyesight was blurry and I was very uncomfortable. My partner said she moved off towards the road and he lost sight of her. I then realized that I should have restrained from making physical contact. This could have easily been a serious situation if this spirit was malevolent and, frankly, I know better. All indications are that this was a visiting spectre and that there was no residual haunting, at least by this spirit. We waited for another ½ hour but noticed nothing further. Frankly, that odor of honeysuckles was still on me and I was ready to get home wash it off. One interesting side note, when I did get home my wife thought I was crazy because she noticed just a slight scent of honeysuckles. But the stench continued to get stronger, until she couldn't stand it any longer. It just wouldn't wash off...though it finally faded away about a week later.

I have checked the name “Katherine” for many years and the best I can speculate is that Katherine was either a guest or friend of the Gray or Kennedy family who is drawn to this location. I never received any indications of sorrow or evil from her while she visited us that August evening. It’s too bad that this is not the case with most of the entities I have encountered.

Investigation Report: Lon Strickler (1984)


The Patapsco: Baltimore's River of History

Ghosts and Spirits - Insights from a Medium

Ellicott City's Guide To Haunted Places B+W Edtition: The Haunted Travel Guide Series

A Guide to Patapsco Valley Mill Sites: Our Valley's Contribution to Maryland's Industrial Revolution



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Sunday, October 15, 2017

A Few Classic Tales For Halloween


Since the Halloween season is upon us, I hope you enjoy these short classic tales:

The Benevolent Goblin

By Gesta Romanorum - In the kingdom of England there is a hillock in the midst of a dense wood. Thither in old days knights and their followers were wont to repair when tired and thirsty after the chase. When one of their number called out, "I thirst!" there immediately started up a Goblin with a cheerful countenance, clad in a crimson robe, and bearing in his outstretched hand a large drinking-horn richly ornamented with gold and precious jewels, and full of the most delicious, unknown beverage.

The Goblin presented the horn to the thirsty knight, who drank and instantly felt refreshed and cool. After the drinker had emptied the horn, the Goblin offered a silken napkin to wipe the mouth. Then, without waiting to be thanked, the strange creature vanished as suddenly as he had come.

Now once there was a knight of churlish nature, who was hunting alone in those parts. Feeling thirsty and fatigued, he visited the hillock and cried out:

"I thirst!"

Instantly the Goblin appeared and presented the horn.

When the knight had drained it of its delicious beverage, instead of returning the horn, he thrust it into his bosom, and rode hastily away.

He boasted far and wide of his deed, and his feudal lord hearing thereof caused him to be bound and cast into prison; then fearing lest he, too, might become partaker in the theft and ingratitude of the knight, the lord presented the jeweled horn to the King of England, who carefully preserved it among the royal treasures. But never again did the benevolent Goblin return to the hillock in the wood.

-----

The Old Witch

By The Brothers Grimm - There was once a little girl who was very wilful and who never obeyed when her elders spoke to her - so how could she be happy?

One day she said to her parents, 'I have heard so much of the old witch that I will go and see her. People say she is a wonderful old woman, and has many marvellous things in her house, and I am very curious to see them.'

But her parents forbade her going, saying, 'The witch is a wicked old woman, who performs many godless deeds - and if you go near her, you are no longer a child of ours.'

The girl, however, would not turn back at her parents' command, but went to the witch's house. When she arrived there the old woman asked her:

'Why are you so pale?'

'Ah,' she replied, trembling all over, 'I have frightened myself so with what I have just seen.'

'And what did you see?' inquired the old witch.

'I saw a black man on your steps.'

'That was a collier,' replied she.

'Then I saw a gray man.'

'That was a sportsman,' said the old woman.

'After him I saw a blood-red man.'

'That was a butcher,' replied the old woman.

'But, oh, I was most terrified,' continued the girl, 'when I peeped through your window, and saw not you, but a creature with a fiery head.'

'Then you have seen the witch in her proper dress,' said the old woman. 'For you I have long waited, and now you shall give me light.'

So saying the witch changed the little girl into a block of wood, and then threw it on the fire. When it was fully alight, she sat down on the hearth and warmed herself, saying:

'How good I feel! The fire has not burned like this for a long time!'

-----

The King of Cats

by Ernest Rhys - Once upon a time there were two brothers who lived in a lonely house in a very lonely part of Scotland. An old woman used to do the cooking, and there was no one else, unless we count her cat and their own dogs, within miles of them.

One autumn afternoon the elder of the two, whom we will call Elshender, said he would not go out - so the younger one, Fergus, went alone to follow the path where they had been shooting the day before, far across the mountains.

He meant to return home before the early sunset - however, he did not do so, and Elshender became very uneasy as he watched and waited in vain till long after their usual suppertime. At last Fergus returned, wet and exhausted, nor did he explain why he was so late.

But after supper when the two brothers were seated before the fire, on which the peat crackled cheerfully, the dogs lying at their feet, and the old woman's black cat sitting gravely with half-shut eyes on the hearth between them, Fergus recovered himself and began to tell his adventures.

"You must be wondering," said he, "what made me so late. I have had a very, very strange adventure to-day. I hardly know what to say about it. I went, as I told you I should, along our yesterday's track. A mountain fog came on just as I was about to turn homewards, and I completely lost my way. I wandered about for a long time not knowing where I was, till at last I saw a light, and made for it, hoping to get help.

"As I came near it, it disappeared, and I found myself close to an old oak tree. I climbed into the branches the better to look for the light, and, behold! there it was right beneath me, inside the hollow trunk of the tree. I seemed to be looking down into a church, where a funeral was taking place. I heard singing, and saw a coffin surrounded by torches, all carried by. But I know you won't believe me, Elshender, if I tell you!"

His brother eagerly begged him to go on, and threw a dry peat on the fire to encourage him. The dogs were sleeping quietly, but the cat was sitting up, and seemed to be listening just as carefully and cannily as Elshender himself. Both brothers, indeed, turned their eyes on the cat as Fergus took up his story.

"Yes," he continued, "it is as true as I sit here. The coffin and the torches were both carried by CATS, and upon the coffin were marked a crown and a scepter!"

He got no farther, for the black cat started up, shrieking:

"My stars! old Peter's dead, and I'm the King o' the Cats!" Then rushed up the chimney, and was seen no more.

-----

The Guest

By Anonymous - A young man and his wife were on a trip to visit his mother. Usually they arrived in time for supper, but they had had a late start, and now it was getting dark, so they decided to look for a place to stay overnight and drive on in the morning.

Just off the road, they saw a small house in the woods. "Maybe they rent rooms," the wife said. So they stopped to ask. An elderly man and woman came to the door. They didn't rent rooms, they said, but they would be glad to have them stay overnight as their guests. They had plenty of room, and they would enjoy the company. The old woman made coffee and brought out some cake, and the four of them talked for a while. Then the young couple were taken to their room. They tried to insist on paying for this, but the old man said he would not accept any money.

The young couple got up early the next morning, before their hosts had awakened. They left an envelope with some money in it on a table near the front door, to pay for the room. Then they went on to the next town. They stopped at a restaurant and had breakfast. When they told the owner where they had stayed, he was shocked. "That can't be," he said. "That house burned to the ground, and the man and the woman who lived there died in the fire."

The young couple could not believe it. So they went back to the house. Only now there was no house. All they found was a burnt-out shell. They stood staring at the ruins trying to understand what had happened. Then the woman screamed: In the rubble was a badly burned table, like the one they had seen by the front door and on the table was the envelope they had left that very morning.

A Halloween Reader: Poems, Stories, and Plays from Halloween Past

Paperbacks from Hell: The Twisted History of '70s and '80s Horror Fiction

The Topaz Story Book: Stories and Legends of Autumn, Hallowe'En, and Thanksgiving (Classic Reprint)

Trick or Treat: A History of Halloween

Tuesday, October 10, 2017

Living in a Killer's House / Approached by the Departed


I received the following accounts several years ago:

When I first moved to GA from FL in 1991, I moved into a house in Smyrna with my future first wife and her two kids. The house was a 2-story ranch built in the early 60s. The basement had a large family room running almost the length of the house along with 2 bedrooms. There were several windows on the back side of the house, up high in the room, at about ground level outside. This is the room that had the TV. The house also had lots of walls with large drywall patches, that I initially couldn't explain. Anyway, at night I always felt something was watching me from those windows while I was watching TV. And it wasn't a warm and fuzzy feeling either. It was the kind of feeling of, I can't look at the window, because if I see something I will scream.

There were two weird, unexplainable things that happened in that house while I lived there that I know about. The first happened when I got home from work one late afternoon and went downstairs and laid on the couch with my back to the room and waited for my wife to get home. After a few minutes I heard someone walk from the direction of the stairs towards me and up behind me and stop. I figured it was my wife who was checking on me and thought I was asleep. Then I heard a big sigh and them walking away. Well about 20 minutes later my wife came home, I was all alone in the house!

The next thing that happened was when my stepdaughter and wife were cleaning her bedroom, which was downstairs in the basement. They were cleaning her dresser together and all of the sudden, a music box on the dresser opened up by itself and then closed by itself. Both of them initially just stood there stunned and didn't say anything and then came and got me.

One day, our neighbor Betty came over with a newspaper article. She had lived next door for years. She told us that a hit man for the Dixie Mafia had lived in the house for years. His name was John Elbert Ransom and Georgia authorities had him associated with 25 murders. At the time I lived in the house, he was in jail for conspiracy to commit murder. Betty told us all kind of stories, including that when they arrested him, they cut holes in the walls of the house looking for illegal drugs and guns.

I always wondered if one of his victims had come back to haunt him.

Bill

**********

About 8 years ago, I was living with my boyfriend who was one of 7 brothers and one sister. I was told about the sister Diane who was killed in 1971 in a car accident. My boyfriend's 19 year old son lived with us until he was later killed in an accident. The next several weeks after he died, I heard footsteps coming to my room and sensed him by my bed. On one occasion, I felt so strongly he was standing there I even said "I know you are there...it's ok to show yourself. I wont be afraid". He replied telepathically "I can't always show myself...it's a universal law".I had never heard the term "universal law" prior to that.

One night, around 3am, I heard loud talking and footsteps coming through the house. Suddenly, my boyfriend's son was at the end of my bed saying "Hey Sue! Diane is here and she wants to talk to you". I turned and saw a girl next to me in bed! She looked like a real person even though it was dark. I noticed her hair shimmered...catching any bit of light and her skin was white but wasn't pasty and had a luminous quality. I said to her "Diane, you are here! Every since I have lived in this area and been around your family I have been told you are dead." I soon found out not to say this to a spirit/ghost because she quickly corrected me very sternly saying "I have always been alive...I have NEVER been dead!" She told me to tell the family her name was on a wall and now its covered. She kissed my cheek and hugged me then vanished.

There I was sitting up wondering if I was dreaming and wondering why my boyfriend wasn't next to me. I soon heard the toilet flush and my boyfriend climbing back in bed. I asked him if he heard talking or noises. I told him his son and sister were just here and I talked to his sister. He first told me "aww, go back to sleep." But I described his sister and told him what she said to me and he sobbed as the other family members did as they said "Oh, yes, that was Diane".

I later learned what her message meant. When Diane was a little girl she wrote her name on the basement wall in the old house where they had lived. Since it had been torn down so indeed her name is "covered". I have been visited by relatives, friends and others I do not know. Sue

Ghost Stories from the American South (American Storytelling)

Mississippi Mud: Southern Justice and the Dixie Mafia

Shooting the mob - Organized crime in photos. Dead Mobsters, Gangsters and Hoods.

Phantoms & Monsters 'Encounters' Series



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Monday, October 9, 2017

Poveglia Island: Hell on Earth


Poveglia Island is one of many island located between Venice and Lido in the Venetian Lagoon but instead of being a place of beauty, the island is a blemish in the shimmering sea and is not only regarded as one of the most haunted locations on the planet, but also one of the most evil places in the world. It is absolutely off-limits to visitors and while some tourists make attempts to visit from time to time, most locals refuse to take them to the island. The island has become a putrid area indeed. The soil of the island combined with the charred remains of the bodies dumped there creating a thick layer of sticky ash. The core of the island is literally human remains that has given the island a loathsome reputation...though it is known for exceptional grape growing. Think of that the next time you pour a glass of Venetian wine. Fishermen even steer clear of the island for fear that they will catch human bones in their nets.

The dark history of Poveglia Island began during the Roman Era when when people from Padua and Este fled there to escape the barbaric invasions. Centuries later, when the Black Death rolled through Europe it served that purpose again. The dead were dumped into large pits and buried or burned. As the plague tightened its grip, the population began to panic and those residents showing the slightest sign of sickness were taken from their homes and to the island of Poveglia kicking and screaming and pleading. They were thrown onto piles of rotting corpses and set ablaze...all left to die in agony. It's estimated that the tiny island saw as many as 160,000 bodies during this time.

In 1379 Venice came under attack from the Genoan fleet; the people of Poveglia were moved to the Giudecca, and the Venetian government built on the island a permanent fortification, called “the Octagon,” still visible today. The island remained uninhabited in the following centuries. Despite many attempts to offer the island for no price, no one seemed to want it. In 1527 the “doge” offered the island to the Camaldolese monks, but they refused the offer. In 1661 the descendants of the original inhabitants were offered to reconstruct their village on the island, but they refused to do so.


In the 1700s the island came under the jurisdiction of the Magistrato alla Sanità (Public Health Office) became a checkpoint for goods and people visiting Venice until two ships arrived with plague on board. For this purpose various edifices were built, including the hundred metre long “Tezon” that still stands. It is still possible to read the writing on the wall by people who were confined there. From that time until the rule of Napoleon Bonaparte in 1805, the island was a confinement station for people with the plague. As if the story was not disturbing enough, it gets worse.


In the 20th century the island was again used as a quarantine station. In 1922 the island became home to a psychiatric hospital complete with a large and very impressive bell tower. The patients of this hospital immediately began to report that they would see ghosts of plague victims on the island and that they would be kept up at night hearing the tortured wails of the suffering spirits. Because they were already considered mad by the hospital staff, these complaints were largely ignored.

To add to the anguish of the poor souls populating this island hospital, one doctor there decided to make a name for himself by experimenting on his subjects all to find a cure for insanity. Lobotomies were performed on his pitiable patients using crude tools like hand drills, chisels, and hammers. Those patients and even the ones who were not privy to the doctor's special attentions were taken to the bell tower where they were tortured and subjected to a number of inhumane horrors.


According to the lore, after many years of performing these immoral acts, the evil doctor began to see the tortured plague ridden spirits of Poveglia Island himself. It is said that they led him to the bell tower where he jumped (or was thrown) to the grounds below. The fall did not kill him according to a nurse who witnessed the event, but she related that as he lay on the ground writhing in pain, a mist came up out of the ground and choked him to death. It's rumored that the doctor is bricked up in the hospital bell tower and on a still night, the bell can be heard tolling across the bay. The hospital closed down.

For a time, the Italian government owned the island, but it was later sold. That owner abandoned it in the 1960's and was the last person to try and live there. A family recently sought to buy the island and build a holiday home on it but they left the first night there and refused to comment on what happened. The only fact that is known is that their daughter's face was ripped open and required fourteen stitches.

Several psychics have visited the island the abandoned hospital, but all of them left scared to death of what they had sensed there. Every now and then daredevils dodge the police patrols to explore the island, but everyone who has made it there have refused to return saying that there is a heavy atmosphere of evil and they the screams and tortured moans that permeate the island make staying there unbearable.

One report from a misguided thrill seeker who fled the island says that after entering the abandoned hospital, a disembodied voice ordered them, "Leave immediately and do not return."

Sources:
europeanghostsandhauntings.com
mentalfloss.com
odditycentral.com
cogitz.com
lonelyplanet.com
slightlywarped.com
grimunion.com
unexplained-mysteries.com


Encyclopedia of Haunted Places: Ghostly Locales from Around the World

Listverse.com's Ultimate Book of Bizarre Lists: Fascinating Facts and Shocking Trivia on Movies, Music, Crime, Celebrities, History, and More


Tuesday, September 26, 2017

Hawaiian Night Marchers


I first learned about this phenomena while researching a haunting in a Kona, Hawaii firehouse. One of the clients informed me of the legend...mentioning that many of his relatives claimed to have witnessed the procession on the nearby beaches. He believed that the firehouse was haunted by a restless phantom warrior from the 18th century. The structure was fairly old and needed a lot of renovation. In fact, some parts of the structure were in total disrepair from what I gathered from witnesses. Despite the effort, the strange activity never really ended...not until the firehouse was eventually razed for a new building. So far, there hasn't been any reported activity that I am aware of.

Anyway...or the last century or so published and unpublished accounts have surfaced of people encountering the marching apparitions of chiefs, chiefesses, dead relatives, gods, goddesses, along with their entourages on roads they had once ceremonially traveled to attend to ritual ceremonies. Hawaiians call the phantom parade huaka‘i po.

The legend evolved from a cultural matrix that encompassed information passed on orally or from writings about non-phantom Hawaiian daytime and nighttime processions of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries following Captain Cook’s arrival in 1778. Foreigners continued writing about the traditional and the transitional culture into the 19th century. In the marches were living human beings, some of whom were led by a man or woman of such high rank as to be considered divine, and by men carrying images of gods of both sexes. Hawaiians believed that marchers might include gods, goddesses, family guardian gods, and spirits of dead kinfolk who assumed either material or spectral forms visible to human onlookers.

Here is a story told in 1970 by a Hawaiian fisherman of Pepe‘ekeo, Hawaii, about the time he and his companion heard the phantom night marchers and saw their torches. The limpet picker related his story as follows:

One night when I was fishing for ulua Mahu-kona side, I was sitting listening to the waves crash on the rocks. I was with Keoki. We started talking story after sliding fresh puhi [eels] down the line. It was about ten o’clock. Suddenly I heard the sound of a conch shell blowing in the distance. Keoki heard it too. I thought it was the wind. Then a little while later we heard it again. This time it was a little louder. It was spooky because we didn’t see anything, Then we heard it again. We looked toward Ka-wai-hae side and then we saw it. It looked like a procession.At first we saw a line of torches in the distance. The procession was moving along the coastline. The conch shell blew again.

I took out my knife and Keoki got the rifle. We went seaward and laid down on the lava rock. We knew about night marchers from other fishermen. We knew you aren’t supposed to look upon the marchers and to lay on the ground face down. We did this. The marchers passed about fifty yards in front of us on the sand path. As they passed we could hear the sound of a drum pounding beat by beat. We didn’t look up until they were farther down the coast. All we could see now was the line of torches, and all we could hear was the far away sound of the conch shell.

We didn’t know if they were going to come back that night, but we didn’t want to stick around and see. We got our sleeping bags and made it to the car and went to Spencer Park to spend the rest of the night. In the morning we went back and picked up our rigs and equipment we left behind. - ojs.lib.byu.edu

More recent observers note that phantom processions frequently appear on anniversaries and at places of important national or local events that took place in the marchers’ lifetime. In 1970, a great-grandmother on Hawaii explained that spirits of dead chiefs and their followers still traveled from village to village to attend festivities such as they had enjoyed in life. She also noted that a very high chief had heralds to order people to prostrate themselves off the trail; anyone failing to do so risked being instantly killed by the chief’s guards.

In the old culture, a chief and his followers marched to battle arrayed in feather cloaks, helmets, and other finery. In the chief’s personal party were his wife, closest friends, and bearers of stick images representing his gods. Also in his procession were his general, priests, astrologers, as well as variously trained, equipped, and specialized ranks of warriors. Observers of phantom marchers frequently identify them as the spirits of a chief and his warriors.

The phantom night marchers have been seen frequently along the entire Kona coast including Kealakekua Bay and along The Pathway of the Gods, Kamehameha’s birthplace, and other sacred and historical sites. In 1970 the great-grandson of the woman who described the march of chiefs to festivities conjectured that the night-marching spirits might on occasion be connected with the Makahiki. In 1931 a Maui woman interpreted a phantom midnight festival as a reenactment of a Makahiki fertility rite.

Among adult observers are farmers, fishermen, ranch hands, U.S. soldiers, youthcamp counsellors, schoolteachers, a former interpreter in King Kalakaua’s court, a plantation owner, a physician, a tourist, a prominent politician, and the sister of another politician.

Most observers, in relating their experiences, state that they were not alone at the time, and their companions, in all but one instance, saw and heard what they did. Occasionally a whole family, a community, or a group of people see the marchers.

Opinions differ as to whether children can see or hear night marchers. A young Oahu girl whose mother aroused her during a procession was able to hear but not see it. Another heard the drums although her young companions could not, and as an adult this same girl heard, saw, conversed with, and marched alongside of the spirit of an ancestor. On Hawaii a family sat up with their children to wait in a safe place for the procession. As an adult, the daughter recalled that she had heard the marchers distinctly but had seen them only rather dimly. One evening two young boys at South Kona heard the marchers’ drums and saw their torches before their mother did, And a young Kohala girl, playing during the day in a forbidden field, was terrified when she heard a whistling wind, drums, heavy footsteps, and voices, and was knocked off the marchers’ path by a protective spirit who whispered a name in her ear which she later learned was that of a dead relative. A Moloka‘i family was happily excited when a son heard the spirits’ drums. On the other hand, a Maui woman as a child could not hear, and presumably could not see, the marchers, but as an adult she heard them so clearly that had she been able to record musical notation she could have put down the sounds of their chants, flutes, and drums. In the 1960s, an O‘ahu man stated flatly that only adults could hear and see the spirits, for as a child he had been unable to hear them although his parents and grandparents could.

There are hundreds of traditional and more modern accounts of the phantom marchers. Regardless of an intended or unintended motive, stories of experiences with night marchers or beliefs about them are told for many reasons: to entertain; to discuss a puzzling, inexplicable, perhaps frightening phenomenon; to pass the time and relieve boredom; to dispense knowledge about the phenomenon and proper behavior in regard to it; to frighten children into obedience and fear of night-wandering spirits; to endow sacred and historic sites with supernatural protection and value and protect them from further damage; to communicate oral history; or a combination of several of these things. But most importantly such stories function to express the storyteller’s sense of cultural and personal continuity with old Hawaiian culture.

NOTE: over the years I have received several very odd anecdotes from Hawaii...most are related to legends and beliefs. For example, I received a witness report that stated phantom wild pigs were seen throughout a macadamia nut grove. It was so bad that the owner couldn't keep workers...they considered it as a bad sign. I referred the case it to a local investigator who later confirmed that she had witnessed the phantom pigs herself. It's a long detailed story that I may cover one day...but a good example of some of the weird activity that comes from Hawaii. Lon

Sources:
ojs.lib.byu.edu/spc/index.php/PacificStudies
Hawaiian Mythology
hauntedhawaii.net
pacificworlds.com
The Seven Dawns of the Aumakua: The Ancestral Spirit Tradition of Hawaii
365kona.com
Legendary Hawai'i and the Politics of Place: Tradition, Translation, and Tourism
weirdhawaii.com
Kamehameha: The Warrior King of Hawai'i (A Latitude 20 Book)



Saturday, September 9, 2017

An American Clurichaun Tale

I have written about and reported a few fairy-like being encounters over the years...including a leprechaun or two. There are also legends of the 'Tommyknockers' in mining areas worked by Irish immigrants throughout North America. After I received the inquiry I looked back through my files, including a few journals I had kept from the 1970's. I did manage to find an odd anecdote that was told to me by a friend-of-a-friend in 1976 while in Philadelphia.

From what I gathered an ancestor by the name of Finn, who lived in colonel Philadelphia, had a bit of trouble keeping port wine on hand. It seemed that each morning he noticed that the level of a barrel he kept in the cellar got lower. In fact it had gotten to a point where he thought his wife was taking a dipper full each night while he slept...though he had never known her to have a taste for the stuff.

One day while working at the dock he asked his friend Donal what he thought about the situation. Donal looked back at Finn and laughed..."His Nibs is sampling your stock." Finn had no idea what Donal was referring to. "His Nibs...a clurichaun is stealing your spirits."

Honestly, when I heard the story I had no idea what a clurichaun was. Apparently, it is an Irish fairy which resembles the leprechaun. Some describe the clurichaun as a night 'form' of the leprechaun, who goes out to drink after finishing his daily chores. Clurichauns are said to favor drunkenness more than not. However, unlike their cousins, they are surly. If you treat them well they will protect your wine cellar, however, if mistreated, they will wreak havoc on a home and spoil the wine stock. Occasionally he can be heard singing Irish folk songs in the wine cellars. The clurichaun is great to have around the house because he also protects your home from vandals and thieves. They are also referred to as 'clobhairs' and 'His Nibs.'

According to Donal, if Finn wanted to see the clurichaun, leave a cup of wine on the night stand...it can't resist an offer of drink. Donal warned "don't scare it away. There will be dire consequences if you do."

That night, Finn left a full cup of wine on his night stand hoping to catch a glimpse of the imp. A little bit after midnight Finn heard the floor boards creaking. As he slowly opened his eyes, he gazed upon a small 3 ft. man wearing a red hat made of plant leaves and a red wool vest. It resembled a leprechauns in all it's physical characteristics. As he watched the clurichaun reach for the cup a horrific scream shot from behind him. His wife also caught glimpse of the small being and reacted instinctively. The clurichaun dropped the cup on the floor and dashed out of the room. Flinn thought "what now?"

Flinn tried to lure the clurichaun back and to its good graces with several offers of wine, but was never successful. It is said that Flinn could never keep fresh wine again...it always turned to vinegar as soon as it was brought into the house.

Pocket Guide to Monsters and Malevolent Creatures

The Weiser Field Guide to Cryptozoology: Werewolves, Dragons, Skyfish, Lizard Men, and Other Fascinating Creatures Real and Mysterious

Magic Tree House Fact Tracker #21: Leprechauns and Irish Folklore: A Nonfiction Companion to Magic Tree House #43: Leprechaun in Late Winter