The True Tales of the WHOMPING Door and the Littlest Ghost

Happy Halloween. Today, for your haunting pleasure, I offer two real scenarios in the name of spooks, and things that do go bump in the night - sometimes in broad day-light. I'll start with the incident that, if you like, might be shrugged off, if you dare.

It was about a year ago. I would come home, leaving the garage and entering the living room through the garage door. I'd, naturally close the door behind me. After fifteen minutes or so - WHOOMP! The door would sound as if someone on the other side of the door had laid into it at a full run, hitting it with their shoulder. Loud. Really loud! And the point is - there was no one there.

It had begun - every I entered the house from the garage - a ten or fifteen minute delay, then - WHOMP! Every time it happened, I was totally unnerved.

EVIL WHOMPING DOOR...
Though the sound was loud enough to hear at the rear of my house, I found myself wondering if my imagination wasn't making the noise louder than it really was. So, when the door 'performed' during a visit of my friend Barbara one weekend, I felt some relief. I wasn't just imagining it all.

Still, I wanted a simple explanation about the door, that had excluded a ghost theory. There had to be some other sort of explanation for the door slamming that I could dredge up. I thought a bit, then told Barbara that every time I closed that door, it sat unbalanced in the door frame. Then, after about ten to fifteen minutes or so for the door to settle, making that godawaful noise, like Mr. T violently attempting to break into the room. I don't know if Barbara bought into my logical explanation, but I tried my best to believe my own explanation for my temperamental door.

Any Claire denial there? Uh... well, I admit, there were a couple of times my mind, if not my brain, was certain something was smashing itself against the door.

Eventually, after much thought, and several weeks of nervousness and fear of doors, I decided if, perhaps, the door's noise was the result of a ghost, poltergeist or some such, it certainly was not welcome in my house. I wasn't going to be freaked out by some stupid door in my own home.

The WHOOMPS ceased. Stopped cold. One day 'WHOOMP'. The next day I closed the door and heard naught but, you'll pardon the expression - dead silence.

When I look back on that event, I wonder, if the noise was caused by the door settling in the door frame, why did it stop so suddenly? For that matter why did it start so suddenly? I did no repairs or anything else to the door, but the noise is gone and good riddance.

But you know - in my garage, there hangs a large black and white portrait of my grouchy, paternal Grandfather. When the door was at it's noisy business, I had sometimes wondered if my Grandfather hadn't been pissed off at me - hanging him in the garage, and not the living room. Or, I sometimes thought, more likely he was miffed as I had stopped my on-line research into his life and ancestors. Had Gramps dropped hints wanting his fair share of attention?

Now here is another ghost story, the Halloween finale; another true story.

A few months ago, something threw me for an uneasy loop. At the home of a friend of mine, a horrible thing happened that resulted in the death of a five year old child. The child died, while snuggled down on my friend's living room couch. Totally avoidable death, totally devastating and I will leave that details of the incident at that.

Following the death of the little girl, who was had been known loving as 'the baby', things began to happen around my friend's home. She told me in email that from time to time, the cabinets in the kitchen, left closed, would be found later, open. There were noises for which no one could find a source. The television became particularly lively - changing channels and clicking on and off by itself. When the 'poltergeist' was very active, my friend and her significant other, would say 'the baby', was looking for attention.

Now when a friend tells me that sort of thing, scientific skeptic in my brain says 'don't believe it'. Contrarily, the area of my brain that totally trusts my friend says, 'I know she isn't lying.'

Jump forward several months. My friend and I visited with another friend, whom for sake of this story I will call Irene.

It was Spring and the three of us lolled around Irene's sitting room. We were ten hours by car from my home, and more than that from my friend. We enjoyed a nice meal and a lovely chat in my friend's living room.

CLICK!

I looked over at the television.

CLICK! CLICK! CLICK!

The television was switching on and off, on and off, on its own accord - no one was touching any remotes. Shoot - Irene's TV was practically antique, there was no remote control. We all stared at the television, then looked uneasily at each other.

I looked wide eyed at my friend, and uneasily, we both smiled. Apparently 'the baby' had come with her to visit Irene's. Bored with the adult conversation, the baby apparently wanted some attention if not diversion.

We told the tale of the child to Irene, who having ghost incidents of her own happen in her house (of the sort that would make Stephan King wet himself) did not doubt who was playing with the TV knobs. Irene did not doubt the tale of the littlest ghost in the least - & for once, neither could I.

The Mountain Lion in my Bedroom

This is a true story. Not even the names have been changed to protect the indolent.

I woke in my bed, early one morning, on a work day. Over my bedroom closet, I was stunned to see a magnificent, large and tawny mountain lion. There is only a wall above my closet, but the lion appeared to be lying down on a shelf. The lioness, which somehow I knew was female, stared intently at me, and snarling, as if imparting a message to me. That is, I could see she was growling, but could not hear her voice.

I knew this was just another case of my having opened my eyes and woken up before my brain had finished showing me a dream. No big whoop – happens to me all the time, just never saw anything as impressive on waking as that beautiful beast - she was brilliant and as solid looking as anything else in my bedroom. I figured when I had time that night I would look it up in my animal totem book what message mountain lions give to their minions. I got up and prepared myself to leave for work. It was raining.

At my office, the morning began normally enough. But later in the morning nonplussed coworkers began coming over to tell me that a former student assistant had out of the blue, showed up. His name was Robert. That morning he had ridden his bike, and arrived soaking wet. A year or so earlier, he used to work on our data base, and though generally a pleasant guy, in the manner of a true geek, he often showed no more tact or communication skills than a petualant 4 year old. My luck on this day, he had come into the office just to see me.

He grilled me about a project I’d been given the a year earlier. The project had been a challenge, for me, get a database to work in a way for which it hadn't been designed. Unfortunately, though I am rather a natural on computers, I’ve never had any formal training in computer languages. So after much trying, and asking my supervisors for help that I never received, I gave up. The project was not completed, and was ditched. I told Robert so.

As the old database was discussed, Robert's voice raised, and before long, he was yelling at me. He now worked for a computer company and had been given an assignment, similar to the one I had ditched, and which he too, could not complete. He had hoped I had completed the task so he could use my work as a basis for his. He ranted on, telling me how I ruined his project. I was stunned. I stood there, staring at him dumbfounded, until a supervisor ordered him to leave. As the day progressed I felt worse and worse about the unfair chewing out I had received, and even residual guilt about the long ago abandoned project.

Skip to that night - I lay in my bed reading before lights out. I remembered that I wanted to look up the significance of my mountain lion ‘sighting’. I read in my Animal Totem book:

*Mountain Lion can be a very difficult power totem for you to have, because it places you in a position to be a target for the problems of others. You could be blamed for things going wrong, or for always taking charge when others cannot. You may become the perfect justification for the insecurities of others.

The totem book described precisely what had happened to me at the office. I grabbed my journal, and there was the unshakable truth, by my own hand; a drawing of the mountain lion I had quickly sketched that morning, because I hadn't had time to write out the dream before going to work. The lioness, in the early hours of the day, had assured me that no guilt lay with my own actions.

I swear on my beloved mother’s soul, that’s exactly what happened.

Was it a paranormal experience? As far as I’m concerned, it absolutely was. And yet, I recall that at the time I after I read the journal, my first thought was "That lion can't have had anything to do with warning me! " And I thought in an ultimate grasp at denial, "I didn't see the lion this morning...?" You know how sometimes the events of the morning feel like they happened a week earlier? That is how the timing of seeing the lioness felt to me.

So quickly, I checked my journal, and there in my own hand, was the quick sketch of the mountain lion I drew shortly after viewing her. You know, if the date on my journal had been one day earlier, I’d have dismissed the whole thing as a quirk, as a coincidence. I would have denied there was any link between the lion I saw, and Robert who showed up at the office to blame me for his problems. If there had been more than 24 hours between the lion/the guy, I'd have croaked rather than admit to myself I'd experience anything out of the ordinary. I live in denial of most things paranormal.

If you’re wondering what a totem is, it’s an animal species from which you can learn lessons from, or at least that’s my interpretation of a totem. I did not formerly count the mountain lion as one of my totems, but she seems to think she is and she came to tell me so. To this day a plate hangs over the bedroom closet. It was gifted to me by my friend friend Joann, to whom I told the story. The plate commemorates the lioness, who perched above my bed to warn me, and comfort me, on that day, November 30, 1993.


The Mountain Lion plate plate that hangs over my closet

*from Medicine Cards by Jamie Sams & David Carson

Spirits vs Dust On the Lens - a Spritely Look at Orbs

This edition of 'Spooky Shite week' teeters on shaky ground. When first written, I was firmer in my beliefs, but now I am not. We all come to our own judgments.

So! What am I rambling about? Orbs – orbs are Orbs are just round sphere-ish lights that show up on digital stills and videos. The reason the lights show up in photos/videos is in modern digital cameras the flash is only a few inches above the camera's lens, and therefore, the light illuminates whatever minute particles are afloat in the atmosphere - dust, rain drops, small insects and junk. I learned most of my grammar from Wally and the Beave.

A year ago I visited Colorado. People there explained to me, orbs are live beings; natural spirits with an affinity for cheerful people. Recently I read on-line articles stating further or in addition, that orbs are spirits/ghosts.

Others believe orbs are sentient beings, living creatures science has not as yet acknowledged. If that's not striking enough, some think these minute creatures exist in multiple dimensions, as in String Theory. Is your brain full yet?

So what do I think about orbs? I’ll start with a photo I took a couple of weeks ago during a rain shower.

Those round white blobs/orbs are clearly my camera’s flash reflected off of rain drops
The orbs in that photo must be light bouncing off rain drops and whiskers on kittens, though I think they do look rather... organic. I'll mention here there are those who claim faces can be seen within orbs - even buildings - all from the future, the past or even those other ten dimensions. Here's a close up of orb from one of my photos.

Can you see the bust of a figure in the lower orb?

So you see the bust of a figure in that organic blip of protoplasm? You're not buying into that, are you? OK. I admit. I don't believe it either.

Bear with me a little more. You may recall, in early September, friends and I stayed at Asilomar; a cute place known as ‘Guest’s Inn’, in which John Steinbeck's sister used to live. I told my friend Diane, I hoped, just this once in my skeptical life, I could see a ghost there in that old house - preferably, the ghost of Steinbeck's sister. During the visit, the Ghosts seemed to be a no-show.

Here are 2 photos I took there. I didn’t notice anything weird about the photos until after the trip when I took the time to really examine the photos.

First up, a HUMONGOUS fat white orb
showed up with Robbie, on the left

It is impressively as orbs go, isn't it? Now, what is it? Uh... ?


Close-up of Robbie's Orb - see a face?
Now, up until I saw my rain drop orbs, I thought the orb on Robbie must be a spirit. Now, alas, now it only looks like light bouncing off a dust mote floating close to the camera, which is why it appears so large. I'm a spoil sport, aren't I?

Now look at this next photo: five orbs; three floating in the top of the photo, right of the lamp. There is a forth orb on the bottom of the photo, barely visible on the far left coffee table leg. I choose to assume those upper orbs are dust.


See the white orb, under the table,
streaking away from Ingrid's knees?
You might have noticed the fifth orb - under the coffee table - see that cotton ball-ish thing that seems to be caught by the camera, streaking toward the left?


Close-up of cotton ball orb with a short, comet-like tail
That little Q-tip is dead weird! Matches what I've read about orbs exhibiting a trail, or a ribbon-like appearance". Here is a quote from an on-line orb site by an author describing the difference between 'true' spirit orbs and dust bunnies in the headlights:
As mentioned above there is no official way to determine authenticity of an orb within a photo but here are a few key elements to keep in mind.

1. A bright orb is more likely to be real than a faded one.
2. Multiple orbs in a single photo are most likely dust motes.
3. Orbs that are bright and show a vibrating effect within the photo are likely to be real.
4. A slight trail is also something to look for in determining true orbs.
AHA! So, out of all the orbs I posted here, the one moving under the coffee table fits the markers of true orbs - spirits or sentient beings of nature forever to be ignored by mainstream science. I love the corny sound of TV shows on the paranormal, that end with this type of quote:
Is the mysterious & eerie cottonball, the forlorn ghost of John Steinbeck's sister? Or... might it be the manifestation of an old friend, come to join in on the festivities? Could the mysterious moving white orb be the spirit of our beloved Hen, Fran, who traveled from beyond the grave to enjoy one more night out with the girls?
Not buying it? Well then bugger all! Ok, I still have the remainder of the week to screw with you. This post is only a moderately spook-worthy. But give me just a little more of your precious time, that I can enlighten you with tales of the paranormal ... BWAH HA HA HA HA HA HA!