~East Village Cemetery, Shelton, CT~
Our first trip here was quite interesting. While out on a full-mooned fall night with friends, we stopped here for a visit and hopefully a few good pictures. Not being too-large of a cemetery, we went our own ways, while walking along a row of stones, I paused to hear what sounded like some kind of small animal rustling the leaves behind me. I slowly turned around and saw no amimal, but continued to hear the leaves rustle as if something was moving alongside me. As it moved away, I began to notice a dark shodow figure moving behind the row of stones. As I got back with A.J. he told me he found the grave of a farmer that was overgrown, so he just sat there cleaning it up. He didn't really say much else. We left a short time later, heading off to find another site. A.J. still wasn't saying much and we decided to stop off for a cocktail to warm us up. During a game of pool, A.J. finally spoke. "That was weird," he said. I asked him what he was talking about. "That farmer followed us here. He was laughing and asking how I could let a girl beat me at pool, " he laughed. He then told me that he was talking with him since we left the cemetery. No wonder he hadn't said much since we left, We had returned to this site on several other occasions.
Months pass, my son Michael, who was 17 at the time, came for a weekend visit and wanted us to take him out hunting, we figured we would take him to East Village. After all, we've had encounters there before. We grabbed our cameras, protection oils and prayers, and off we went. Upon arriving at the cemetery, we noticed for the first time EVER that the gates were locked. Lucky for us, the stone wall surrounding the area was only knee-high. A.J. and Michael had no problems going over. I didn't feel quite right about it, and contemplated for several minutes before joining them. As soon as I made my way over the wall, I felt very "tingly" and a little light-headed. I was looking ahead at a very tall headstone in the distance, with the light of the moon behind it, when I heard some words come out of my mouth..."WOW," I said, "That looks like a giant P****S!"(...words I would NEVER say in ANY cemetery or graveyard, out of respect). A.J. asked me what the hell was wrong with me and all I could tell him was that I wasn't feeling right. At that point in time, I felt very uncomfortable and just wanted to get this over with.
About 30 steps in, we heard something moving at the far end of the cemetery, the noise got louder and closer, and sounded as if it were coming from outside of the stone wall along right side of the cemetery. We all just stood there listening to what seemed to be running through the brush (the cemetery is surrounded on 3 sides with woods. To the far back, through the woods there is a house with a dog). We heard the dog barking, but it was not the dog running along the wall, suddenly we felt this "energy" stop at the wall where we were standing and we could feel this energy come over the wall towards us, stopping right in front of us, and we heard 3 loud grunts, I can only compare it to the sound of a bull or moose. So what does my foot-taller-than-me son do??? He grabs me by the arms and puts me in front of him, yea, cuz I am gunna save us...lol. Something did NOT want us there and we left the cemetery immediately, The next day A.J. was passing by East Village while working and stopped to look along the right side wall outside the cemetery. There was so much brush growing that a squirrel would have had a hard time running thru it, let alone some larger animal. We have yet to return here at night.
~Hookman's cemetery, oxford, CT~
A dark cemetery, on a back road, in the middle of the woods. Doing research online about this place, I have come across many stories about Hookman's. All I can say is this is one place I stay in the car and A.J. does all the wandering. We have been on a few occasions, and each time we go (about 10 minutes into his journey) we both begin to hear chains rattling, eminating from across the lower portion of this graveyard. EEK!
~The house of the bell~
This home is occupied and is private property, therefor the location is not being shared.
Built in 1791, This home got it's name for it's bell-shaped shutters and it's purpose. a brothel. It sits on a 26 acre hillside, with views too beautiful to describe, Over the years it had seen many lifestyles, from the brothel to a private residence , eventually expanded to provide a boarding school for troubled children (which I had later found out one of my aunts had attended), back to a private residence.
My friend has lived in the home for over 30 years nows. In the early 90s, my son and I were invited to live there. It was our second day in the home, my son (5 at the time) was upstairs in bed (it was a school night) and my friend, we'll call him "MAC", and I were watching a movie. "Mom!", my son called frantically. I went upstairs to see what was going on. "Who was that woman?", he inquired. I saw no woman, but asked him to describe what she looked like. She had a bonnet, dress and apron, and had looked at him from behind the door, inthe same manner a mother would check on her sleeping children. All I could tell him was that she was gone and was probably just making sure he was in bed as he should have been. The home has 2 sets of stairs, I had gone up 1 and down the other, ending up in the kitchen. Mac was there and asked if I had checked on Mike, I said yes and asked him why he would ask me that. He then tells me that he could have sworn I was walking on his heels, following him to the kitchen. "Really?!", I said. "That's odd, because Mike just wanted to know who the woman looking at him was!". Mac was stunned. He had owned the home for over 20 years at the time and in all those years, with a total of 4 adults and 5 children in the home, nothing out-of-the-ordinary had ever occured.
The follwing day, my son came home from school and went to his room to put away his backpack and get out of his school clothes. He came down a few moments later, holding a car he found in the center of his room. The car is not new, and Mac had never seen it before. I felt it was a gift from the strange woman, and to this day, keep it in a small cotton-lined box for Michael. Needless to say, things started occuring almost every day. On another occasion, Mac and I were in the dining room, just sitting andlistening to the radio, Michael was in the living room watching TV. All of a sudden, Mike comes bursting through the door with what seemed like one of those 'commercial--snack time! ' rushes that children get. He got about 4 or 5 steps into the room when he stopped dead-in-his-tracks and just started gazing at the "space" between us and the radio, not 5 seconds pass when the dog comes over, obviously looking at whatever it was Mike was seeing. All Mac and I could do was look at the two of them, and then at each other with a "What the hell are they lookin at?!" expression on our faces. This went on for about 30-45 seconds. When Mike came out of the little trance he shared with the dog, he turned to us and said, "Ooh, that was weird." "What was?, I asked him. "That sound...it kinda hurt my ears," "What did it sound like?", I asked, and he started making this loud high-pitched, screeching noise, that was definately NOT pleasant. He then continued on his way to grab a snack and went back to the living room.
The only sound coming from the radio at the time of the "trance" was a man's voice for a commercial, no static, no background sounds.
Other paranormal activity that would occur in the home were: obvious cold-spots, seeing shadow figures, an almost-constant feeling of someone watching me.
I never liked being in the 2nd floor bathroom, but with the one downstairs out of commission, I didn't have a choice. It was a very small room and was the location of the attic door. Everytime I was in there, the feeling that someone was watching me was so strong, that I eventually began to say things like, "Do you mind?" or "I'd like some privacy, Please!". It eventually got so routine that I would just let out my random thoughts about how rude they were being by watching me. In time, the light would flicker in response, as if someone was acknowledging or responding to what I was saying, almost being playful.
Waiting for friends one evening, an old friend of my mother's had arrived, I had know her since I was a child and was always thrilled to have her read my palms. I never knew the extent of her abilities. We invited her in, handed her a cocktail and moved to the living room. Not even 5 minutes pass when she tells me she needs to leave. I asked her why, after all, she just got there. She told me the house was haunted. Well, I knew that...but how did she??? I walked with her while she put on her coat and went outside, basically begging and pleading for her to come back in for a few moments, just to walk thru and let me know where she feels energy present...about 15 minutes later, she agreed. Wouldn't you know?! She pointed out every last spot in which I too, had felt some sort of presence. When it came to the 2nd floor bathroom, she wouldn't even go in! I began to tell her of my experiences in that room, when I mentioned the attic door was in there, she immediately told me to stay out of the attic. I was also advised to make visits to that room as quickly as possible. No problem! As I was walking her back to the door, so she could leave, we passed the basement door. She asked what the door went to, and I told her. She didn't open it, just kept walking and told me I would be best to avoid the basement too, and had mentioned something about bad water running under the ground down there. I was dumbfounded. Not only did I HATE going into the basement, but occassionally it had to be done. There was a valve of some sort, that would have to be open or closed, depending on whether or not the well was dry. How she could possibly know about water is beyond me! It's been so long that I forget the exact purpose of this valve, but from that point on, it was Mac's job...lol. To this day, that woman has been on the property, but has never been back in the home. About a year later, Mike and I moved out. According to Mac, the paranormal events stopped around the same time we left.
A few years ago, I took A,J. up to the home for a visit with Mac. A.J. had heard my stories about the home. Although he didn't get the full tour, he did get to use the 2nd floor bathroom. He realized right away that it was the bathroom I had told him about when he saw the attic door. Within just a few seconds of him being in there, the hook-and-latch style doorknob to the attic began to rattle. I guess whoever it was, was just saying hi.
©2005~Ghozt-Hunterz. All rights reserved