A little something-something to build excitement for next year…
What happens to us when we die? That’s the big question. Some of us, many believe, might stick around after we die. Some of us might become the next generation of ghosts! When that happens, some of us will find a place to haunt, be it a favorite home, an old workplace, or possibly a cemetery.
Resting comfortably among the cypress, eucalyptus, Monterey oak, and pines trees of the California coast is the Monterey Peninsula. It’s changed little over the years but grown large in notoriety. The AT&T Pebble Beach Pro-Am is held here every year, car shows are a daily part of life in the summer months, and festivals bring both music and food. Sailing, kayaking, and exploring sea life are pastimes enjoyed by residents and tourists alike. The Central Coast has a long, sometimes sordid, history, but people love it. It’s been featured in a number of films and television shows, including Turner & Hooch, Basic Instinct, Star Trek IV: The Voyage Home, Play Misty for Me, Big Little Lies, and more.
My newest book, Haunted Monterey County, will explore the many haunted locations found in this popular California community. Due in bookstores around Halloween 2019, this book will join a distinguished library of haunted, ghostly collections published by The History Press, a number of which I have enjoyed in the past. The nearest such book, Haunted Santa Cruz California, by Maryanne Porter, is a wonderfully spooky read! Their Haunted America series runs from the East Coast to the West!
In Monterey, I am hard at work on stories surrounding a number of haunted sites, including the Custom House near Old Fisherman’s Wharf, Tor House, Steinbeck’s home in Salinas, Los Coches Adobe, and many other locations said to be inhabited by the restless dead.
I plan to write updates as I progress, so be sure to check in on me from time to time!
What makes a ghost a ghost?
What exactly are they made of? When that chilly hand settles on your shoulder and squeezes, what is it? A memory? A telekinetic process sent from the Other Side? The hunt for answers has been an ongoing one since, I’m guessing, that time a Neanderthal heard footsteps in his cave, but upon investigation found the place deserted. Today’s world makes the search even easier to document. There are websites devoted to the paranormal. There are movies, both fiction and nonfiction books, and videos on YouTube and elsewhere.
For me, it’s a feeling. Years ago, as a reporter for the Williams-Grand Canyon News, I wrote about a great little restaurant on Route 66 called Twisters. I ate there often and still have fond memories of the place. This particular story, I recall, was of a darker nature. The owner’s security camera picked up something strange during the night and he called me in to check it out. When I arrived the next day we sat in the back room and watched the video. In the middle of the night, when Route 66 was deserted and after the place had long since closed for the day, a foggy humanoid shape came to visit the restaurant’s gift shop. It moved with a particular gait, as if it were walking, right into the bathroom. That’s when I got the feeling. A cold chill washed up my spine, which told me I was witness to something very odd. I was later told the restaurant was once a gas station and that the owner had committed suicide. The restaurant owner wondered if that ghostly form walking across his floor could be that man. I had no answer, but was happy to post the video to the News website.
Read about it here.
Whether one believes or not, ghosts are a part of life. They’re talked about by believers and nonbelievers alike, which makes them real in a way. Logically, the idea makes little sense. They can pass through walls, but also move things on a shelf, so which one is it? Why are they clothed, others ask? There are answers to every question if you’re a believer. It could be they’re not a real remnant of a soul at all, but a telekinetic leftover (akin to a projected image) that repeats the memory of an event over and over again. It could be some of us are like spiritual magnets, while others just don’t have the eyes for it. Some of us are cooler than others it seems.
Check out this great Live Science article on the topic.
A more recent theory is that ghosts are made up of dark energy, not dark in the sinister sense (though that sounds fun), but dark in that it is a form of energy that cannot be seen. Much like the dark matter discussed in a cosmic way by scientists like Neil deGrasse Tyson, this dark energy may explain why we can’t (yet) explain it. It also makes sense when it comes to that chilly unseen hand resting on your shoulder. It can move things we can see, like your skin or the fabric of your shirt, but we cannot see what made it move.
Look here for NPR’s description of the idea.
Have you ever felt a chilly hand on your shoulder? What do you believe?
It’s tough to be absolutely terrified of something when you have to go through a gift shop first.
Surrounded by mugs, tees, bottle openers, and God only knows what else, a sense of creeping fear is in limited supply. Until you see the Ouija boards. Creeping fear comes then, but it’s just a tickle. At least it’s there, breathing on the back of your neck like a breathless hound from the depths of Hell. And you see the board’s hefty price tag. Heavy fear comes into your stomach, like a three-egg omelet dripping with cheddar cheese and chorizo an hour after you ate it.
There’s a lot that can be said about the Winchester Mystery House in San Jose, California. The mansion is reminiscent of Hearst Castle (found just a few hours south). The mystery house is beautiful, oddly built, tight-quartered, sunshine deficient, and obnoxious with old world luxury. There are thirteen hooks in the closets, windows with thirteen panels, thirteen bathrooms, and so on. That number sends creeping tendrils of mathematical grief up my spine.
There’s the staircase that leads into a wall and a door that, should you walk through it, will drop you to the cold earth a floor below. The creeping horror grabs your shoulder with invisible skeleton fingers. The ghosts of all those killed by Winchester’s rifles shuffle zombie-like through the claustrophobic halls; they fill dark shadows with smoky semi-human forms, and wait for the call of Sarah Winchester from her now empty séance room.
You follow the tour guide into the next room, listening with dumbfounded anticipation as she recites a well-rehearsed litany of stories – from earthquakes to hired help – and you realize you could have been considered just as odd as Sarah if you had a home like hers, only there’s a difference. A creeping epiphany gnashes its teeth in your face.
She was rich and you are not. Helen Mirren will never play you.
Had Mrs. Winchester taken her quirky building habits and applied them to a tiny home, or an RV (or even an old VW bus), chances are no one would care. But she took a farm house and kept adding on, and adding on, ad nauseam. For us, putting a bed against a door or hanging a map sideways takes out our budget. That’s as “Winchester” as we can get. But was Sarah really crazy?
The folks at Winchester Mystery House do a great job of leaving that up to us. They tell you what people tell them, share the stories of what some believe were her battles with ghosts (and a few employees have stories to tell as well), while they also share more mundane brain fodder (the great quake and how it damaged her pad, for example). Could it be she was simply one hell of a Freemason or a nutty Bacon fan? There’s a lot that proves this could be the case. Or was she down with the demons?
I got a mug with a creeping skull on it from the gift shop. That means the place is ghosting it up. The undead creep up the walls, leaving snail slime behind, and they make sure that logo makes sense. If their putrid hands weren’t foggy I’d high five them.