Ghosts Don't Do Statistics

I am sitting in my office, looking out at a sunny street, shadows from a sun that is high in the summer sky since it's just past noon, watching small insects zig and zag just past my window. There is a breeze blowing, and the trees are nodding with it, looking languid and almost sleepy. It's July and it's time for watermelon, fireworks, and scorching hot beaches.

And I wonder to myself, is there a haunting going on somewhere else in the world? 

There are no statistics for hauntings, although I think they would be interesting to compile if there was only a way to do it. Can you imagine? According to the U.S. Census Bureau in 2014, worldwide 361,481 babies were born per day, working out to 251 per minute on the planet. According to the New York Daily News, in 2013, Ford sold almost 2.5 million vehicles. That works out to roughly 6,849 vehicles sold per day, or 4.8 per minute. (I love statistics like this! They're so much fun to try to imagine!) 

However, there are no fun statistics about hauntings per day, anywhere in the world, at least, not on record that I could find. I know. I Googled it. I did find lists of purportedly haunted places around the globe, some of which are new to me (which is as much fun as statistics! Wow! A new place to read about!). But no one has ever tried to count how many times someone ran into an apparition at, say, Gettysburg. Or London Tower. Or Waverly Hills Sanitorium. And what a pity.

I have no idea how anyone could keep track of this, although I know that a lot of historic sites conduct ghost tours and are used to people talking about apparitions and disturbances. I have actually been in places where they have log books so that visitors can record their own paranormal experiences. But as far as I know, no one has ever decided to organize the data in any particular way. I wish they would.

I would love to see an article or book that reels off stats like "There are 8.5 ghostly visitations per day at Little Big Horn," or "The Trans-Allegheny Lunatic Asylum clocks in at the most haunted site in the U.S.: 8 to 10 sightings per minute!" Would that make you more likely to run in for a visit, or run in the other direction? I must admit that which way I turned would depend on what time of day or night it was, and who was with me. I love ghost stories, but I'm a paranormal coward underneath it all. Really.

Still, there are such things as hauntings on a schedule. A friend told me about an apartment in Chicago where the bedroom door would shut itself every night at ten o'clock. He could have set his watch to it. And the time he experimented by having the door already closed at that particular hour, the door opened itself, and then shut. That's a well-regulated haunting.

The house I grew up with had it's own witching or dark hours, as it were. They started at ten-thirty every night and ended at one in the morning. I know because I clocked the disturbances while I was up studying, trying desperately to ignore what was going on and failing pretty miserably. It's not easy to study for tests or write papers when you realize you're not alone and that something or someone unseen is very busy around you while you're trying to work. Chairs shifting, floorboards creaking, and just for fun, the occasional loud BANG! that makes it sound like someone shoved a dresser over onto its side. But like that apartment my friend had, I could have set my watch to the activity in my house, also.

But schedules are not stats and I'd so love to know if there is any site anywhere that compiles this kind of information. So if anyone out there knows of paranormal statistics along this line, I'd love to hear from you. Leave a comment, or hit my email off of my website. I'd swap you a story for your information!

Scary Movies - Non-American Style

Is it me, or does anyone else ever feel like the ghost stories that come from countries other than the U.S. are scarier? I'm not sure exactly why, but I do know I've always felt that way, even from a very young age.

When I was a kid, I was forever looking for tales of hauntings in Ireland and the British Isles. At the ripe old age of nine, I had never seen a castle first-hand. I had never seen a fortress or a Medieval Cathedral or a proper British churchyard, but I'll tell you this: I was prepared to be terrified by all of them. And I have no idea where that tradition comes from. I just somehow knew that the scariest stories came from castles and old English graveyards and so I spent a great deal of my time hunting down stories from those countries. This lasted through my early adult years when one of the best Christmas presents that Jim ever gave me was a 15-book set devoted to true ghost stories of the British Isles. I had no idea exactly where Cornwall or the Lake District or East Anglia were, but boy howdy, I sure knew a good ghost story when I read one.

Fast forward some twenty or so years later, and I have begun to realize that Asia has some pretty fricking scary stuff. And I'm not even talking about the true stories. Anyone paying attention to paranormal movies over the past decade or so is well aware that some of the most frightening recent films have been re-makes of Japanese ghost/horror stories: The Ring and The Grudge come to mind. I have it on good authority that the original flicks are even scarier. I will take the word of my adviser - I'm much too chicken to watch the originals myself.

And then there have been the offerings from countries other than Japan (The Devil's Backbone, from Spain, and A Tale of Two Sisters, from Korea, come to mind) that are horrifying.

So what is it about these non-American movies that make them so effective? Part of it might be watching actors that I do not know. The Sixth Sense scared the bejesus out of me when I first saw it, but there was always a part of me that held tight to the realization that I was watching Bruce Willis, after all, so this was just a story. However, when I'm watching actors I don't know at all, there is no comforting recognition of the people involved in the story. That always makes it worse for me. Also, movies that do not come from Hollywood have a different feel to them, a completely different kind of atmosphere. I have yet to put my finger on it, but the finished product does not have that slick Hollywood sense, and that probably is also enough to nudge me a little bit more out of my comfort zone.

Lastly, the movies coming out of those other countries take on subjects that are mind-boggling. Watching a video that causes death within a certain period of time? Being stalked by the spirit of a vengeful wife? The storyline itself reduces the main character -and thus the audience- to hapless prey, and feeling paranoid and in fear of one's life is a great way to get someone unsettled from the get-go. There is nothing comfortable about watching these movies.

So there it is. There are Hollywood classics that I have been terrified while watching: the original version of Shirley Jackson's The Haunting (b/w with Julie Harris); The Changeling (George C. Scott), and of course The Exorcist, even though that is not a movie about ghosts. No, it's much worse than that, eh? But if I want to freak myself out to the point that I can't get up and use the bathroom in the middle of the night without turning on lights for every step of the way, or to the point that I'm afraid to close my eyes because of what might be lurking beside my bed -and equally afraid to open my eyes for the same reason - IF I want to get myself to that point? A foreign horror flick will do it every single time.

Plants and Hauntings

The idea of combining plants with hauntings probably seems like combining cows and marshmallows. Complete non sequitur, right? Here's the thing, though. Plants, as innocuous as they may seem, probably have a lot more going on for them than people realize. 

For one thing, some plants will kill others that are competing for the same space. If you don't believe me, try googling "can a plant kill another plant?" and see what pops up. Plants are not quite as passive as they may seem. 

That said, some years ago, I read an article about a man who planted a tree for each member of his family. The idea of everyone having his or her own designated tree sounds peaceful and green and just pleasant, doesn't it? Until one of the trees died. Shortly after, the family member who owned that tree also died. The man who did the original planting might have thought it was a coincidence, until it happened again. It had happened at least three times when the article went to press, and the man and the remainder of his family looked at the trees still standing with quite a bit of uneasiness. If it really was all a coincidence, what a nasty one.

On the other hand, if plants are sentient enough to kill each other, can they pick up a communicative link with humans? Even when I was in high school, which was roughly about the time that the plague hit Europe, botanists were already studying the effects of things like music or people's moods (encouraging or angry) on plants and were surprised to find that our floral friends seem to be aware of different kinds of atmospheres, and not just those having to do with weather. 

So here are two little, little, tiny stories on how plants have connected with hauntings in my personal life.

1. When I was in eighth grade, my paternal grandfather passed away in the Philippines. I was too young to have very many memories of him, even though he did come to visit us here in the States, but my older siblings had more time with him on his visits and remember outings and other activities. One morning, my sister and I were up in our bedroom, making our beds and getting ready for the day. We each had a window, and we each would put up the shade as soon as our beds were made. My sister put up her shade and was startled when the plant on her window sill, an African violet, leaped out at her. I asked her if it had gotten caught in the shade's material, but she said no, she had already finished when the plant pretty much jumped out of the pot. It refused to be re-potted and would have become just another dead plant except that it was one given to my sister by our grandfather. It was shortly after that incident that we learned he had died. Guess he wanted to say goodbye to my sis.

2.  I used to watch ghost story movies on TV (see last week's blog for my current thoughts on this.) One night when my husband was out of town, my daughters and I were huddled on the couch watching "Grave Secrets: The Legacy of Hilltop Drive" which was a made for TV movie that starred Patty Duke. I don't mind admitting that it was a fairly creepy flick and that we were getting a bit freaked-out by it. And then the jade plant on the counter above the TV stand jumped out of its pot and landed about a foot away from its former home. Of course, this corresponded with one of the scariest scenes in the movie and all three of us jumped about as far as the plant. I have no idea -still don't- what would make a jade plant actually leap out of its pot but there it is. I haven't had a jade plant since. I have also never had another plant take a flying leap.

As I said, very small, tiny stories that fall into the "I can't explain that so I'm gonna ignore it" category. Still, I would say we should be mindful of our plants. Be mindful of our trees. I think there's more going on with those quiet green guys than we suspect.

Can't You Just Meet Me in the Living Room?

A chill blows across the back of your neck. The hair on your scalp stands up. Goose bumps rise of their own accord down your arms as you glance uneasily over your shoulder. Anyone who has ever felt a PRESENCE crowding into a room that is cool, dark, and previously empty is familiar with this creepy, crawly sensation. And here's how it can only get worse.

What is the one room where we value our privacy more than any other? Easy question, right? The bathroom. No one wants to feel invaded while brushing teeth, standing under a glorious spray of hot water, or toweling a wet head of hair. Bathroom time is alone time when we are under no other scrutiny but our own. Being joined by something otherworldly during toiletry time goes beyond unnerving.

Does anyone besides me have that occasional reluctance to look in the mirror after rinsing off your face and toweling dry? I have a certain instinctual fear that one night, I will look into the mirror and see not only my own face, but the face of someone else. Someone standing just behind me. Someone who won't actually be there when I whirl around.

Does anyone besides me have that slight moment of hesitation before turning the bathroom doorknob and stepping into the hall, utterly clueless about who –or what– might be lurking on the other side of the door, waiting silently for me to come face to dead face?

Hauntings in bathrooms have been featured in scary stories, from the nasty scene in the old movie "The Legend of Hell House" to the particularly disturbing bathtub ghoul in the Overlook Hotel in Stephen King's The Shining.

Even ghost tours include haunted bathrooms. The Chicago area boasts more than one pub with a problem bathroom. Or if historic sites are more your cup of tea, I dare you (triple dog dare you!) to check out the Ladies Room in the Visitors' Center at Fort Riley, Kansas.

Bathroom hauntings are particularly disturbing because of the element of vulnerability. Completely undressed and dripping wet are not how most of us would choose to confront something truly scary.

Perhaps I come by my bathroom anxiety honestly. The bathroom in my childhood home was so disturbed that one of my best gal pals never spent the night at my house again after one attempt at it. "It was like someone was following me around the whole time," she complained. "Especially in the bathroom."

I guess if I could ask one question of those denizens on the other side of the veil, it might be "Couldn't you haunt me anywhere else than the bathroom? A little privacy, please."

So hey, happy showering tonight! And if you don't believe in ghosts, well, Alfred Hitchcock has you covered in the movie "Psycho."