Full Blown Panic Attack
Thoughts, Movie Reviews, Book Reviews, Interviews
GHOST HUNTS: BELIEVE IN FEAR
by K.N. Johnson
“All a skeptic is, is someone who hasn’t had an experience yet.” — Jason Hawes, founder of The Atlantic Paranormal Society (TAPS)
It sometimes baffles people when I tell them I’m a skeptic. Why would a skeptic travel to other states, stay up night after night, participating in ghost investigations? If you’re a horror fan, though, you get it. Frights and jump scares can be fun. It’s the adrenaline, the dread, that moment when exhaustion crosses your brain wires… and you start to believe anything’s possible.
For a successful ghost investigation team, it helps to have members with a range of belief. Skeptics need to respect the true believers and vice versa. It’s like a good horror film – you’ve gotta have someone who insists they shouldn’t go or someone getting a real bad feeling about a place. And then you pack gear, link arms, and go anyway!
GATES OF HELL
By the time we arrived, I’d read all about the cemetery’s 300-year sad history. Once the favored burial hill for locals, the site is now overgrown and littered with visitors’ melted candles and cult items. Seriously, folks, pick up your trash. Dappled sunlight streamed through the tall oak trees. For these trips, I take photos and use a phone app like Ghost Radar Legacy. I’m not going to discuss its scientific merits – I insist it adds to the experience.
On the radar screen, you’re the center point. So, dots of energy – yellow, green or red – appear on the screen in a quadrant where, supposedly, an energy force is detected. One-word messages also pop up.
My radar flashed green in the top left quadrant, so I stepped that way. I shuffled through a blanket of dead leaves. Yellow dot and the message HERE. Really old graves had sunk - some were a pit of leaves up to my knees. Red dot and the message GO. And to my left, the leaves moved. I tried to whisper-yell for my husband. The leaves moved again. And just as I moved in closer with my camera, a huge black snake slid from the pile. I almost pissed my pants. A message popped up: LAUGHING.
FOX HOLLOW FARM
In our exhaustion, we goaded the ghosts. One gal called out, “If you want to communicate with us, please move the chandelier.” Someone else muttered, “Or flicker the lights.” But I always look for something that will convince me. Something a breeze or heavy footfall can’t do. I got specific. “Move that bug spray can on the pool table.”
These are the stories I’m writing about in my next book. If you’d like to know when it’s finally finished, sign up for my newsletter on my Facebook page – you’ll be the first to know when it’s done!
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