My Story in the Paranormal - Part 4

That led me to take a couple of classes with a woman named Shannon, which somehow turned into investigating the old Comet Lodge Cemetery—now technically considered a park with gravestones, which feels like a very casual way to describe “former two-square-mile city of the dead.” Most of the bodies had supposedly been moved to other cemeteries—wink, wink—which is exactly the kind of sentence that makes paranormal investigators put on sensible shoes and start charging batteries. What used to be two square miles of the dearly departed is now about two square blocks, and shockingly, a lot of the neighbors have ghost stories. I know. Who could have predicted that living next to a former cemetery might come with the occasional weird noise and an unexplained cold spot?

All of that only made me more excited to investigate every chance I got, because apparently once you have a shadow person rush at you, your brain says, “Yes, please, let’s do more of this.” I also got to investigate the Oxford Saloon, where I swear an elderly woman whispered “hello” right in my ear. I would love to say I handled it with grace and courage, but the truth is I jumped so hard my soul briefly tried to leave my body and file a complaint. It did not scare me exactly, but I was definitely startled—and may or may not have come dangerously close to needing a wardrobe change.

Sadly, paranormal groups are no longer allowed to investigate there because of an incident involving a group that was not very respectful—which, unfortunately, is something we run into far too often. Nothing ruins a haunted location faster than living people with bad manners. Still, I am grateful I got the chance to experience it while I could. So thank you, Shannon, for giving me more reasons to chase ghosts, question reality, and carry extra batteries like a responsible adult with very questionable hobbies.