Haunted Vacations

Every couple of years or so the hubby and I plan a trip to some well-known haunted historical site in hopes of having a paranormal experience or catching apparitions on film or digital medium. Last year, our trek took us to haunted Gettysburg where we stayed at the Farnworth House Inn—an known hotbed of paranormal activity.

To step out onto the battlefield and know how many men gave their lives on those three bloody days, and to feel the oppressive energy is enough to knock a sensitive to their knees. I remember one night in particular, when Dave and I stayed on the battlefield near the area where Pickett failed in his desparate charge, cameras at the ready. As we stood and looked off into the rolling hills, fog began to roll in and surround us. Dave began to snap pictures, positive that he'd capture something supernatural on film. Something the naked eye had failed to see.

The next night we climbed the rocks around Devil's Den waiting to see some soldier, trapped in time, defending his post. Again, we snapped picture after picture hoping to take away some proof as a souvenier. Alas, no ghosts were around that night, so we headed back to the hotel to sign up for a ghost walk. And it rained.

Do you see a theme emerging here?

Though I enjoyed the town and the historic sites and spending the week walking around with my hubby, I have to admit to a small amount of disappointment that the only paranormal activity we encountered was on our first afternoon there, after we'd first checked in.

We were given the Custer Room (probably not a good choice for us since my husband is part Cherokee and Blackfoot). The room is not connected to the rest of the inn, but faces a nice little garden and outdoor dining area. It's really was a lovely, comfortable space. So, hubby and I were on the bed, discussing what we wanted to do first, since we'd just drove from NJ in 98 degree heat. We were contemplating if we'd see anything in the hotel room, when Dave said out loud. "I just want to see some ghosts." - The words had barely left his mouth when a knocking on the footboard made us both jump. Now, I know what you're thinking: it came from outside. It came from Dave doing it to scare me. No. A sound from outside would be muffled through the walls, and this was crip. And it came from where neither Dave or I were sitting at the time. We both laughed and knew we'd have a great vacation.

Now, if I can only find the money to go to haunted England.

-Kat