Ghosts at the Sanatorium

Hey Y’all,

It has been a right busy week at the homestead. Last weekend I went up north with Gary to Virginia to hunt after ghosts. He said it was research for a book, but I think he was just trying to meet some women he says he grew up with near those parts. I will say his friends were right good folks.

The place we went to was a haunted hospital on top of a hill in the mountains of southwest Virginia. That right there sounds just plumb creepy enough. The hospital itself looked a might odd and peculiar. One section had been refinished. It looked more like a church’s fellowship hall. There was fresh paint, modern windows, and carpet. It looked right nice, especially for a buildin’ that was put up around 1892. Well, I say nice, they had two of them propane heaters in the room like you see on the football sidelines, so I reckon it wasn’t quite as nice as it looked initially. But that was downright plush compared to the rest of the place.

They took our group to start the ghost hunt. We walked through this insulated steel door and you’d thought we’d done crossed over, and not in a good way. It was dark, cold, and many of the rooms still had paint peeling off and such. It’s the kind of place you expect to find Freddy or Jason. Thankfully, we didn’t see no such thing. One of the leaders did come tearing out of a stairwell during the night claiming to have seen a ghost. I reckon she probably saw something, what between her crying, dropping her monitorin’ equipment, and overall refusal to go back to them stairs until someone else went in. Somethin’ shook that poor woman up.

Most of it was less dramatic. Meters went off, voices came through speakers and answered questions, and they sounded like different men and women dependin’ on where you were in the buildin’. Flashlights would turn on and off, and a few women in the group said they saw a silhouette in one of the hallways. I reckon some of that could have been faked, either on accident or on purpose, but I have to admit, I walked out of that buildin’ with a few more questions than I walked in with. I do know one thing is for sure though, that is not somewhere I’d go in alone.

Which brings me to stupid ideas. It seems they had a few stories of folks breaking into that hospital alone. It has security, so ain’t nobody gonna be able to just drop on in undetected. But it got me to thinking. What kind of an idiot says to themselves, “Hey, I think I’ll break into the old nuthouse and see if there are any ghosts, or maybe steal somethin’ that’s old and covered in mold or lead paint.”  Being from the country I know things can get a might slow for young people, but Virginia Tech is just up the road a piece, and there is a nightlife in Blacksburg. Maybe college bars are too high brow for them so abandoned buildings are more their speed. Just don’t seem like some people have been gifted with the common sense the Good Lord gave the cricket.

I also wonder why the ghosts would let people break in through a window and tear things up. You may think that proves there isn’t a ghost, but I know somethin’ is hangin’ around there on account of my cell phone gettin’ zapped three times. I had a monitoring app that checked for electrical energy. and it would peg out, and then the screen would scramble. That may sound unimpressive, ‘cept there wasn’t any electricity of any type where we were. On one occasion the screen scrambled and my phone shocked me. That right there was quite an accomplishment since I have a rubber case ’round my phone. So you’d think if this thing that zapped my phone saw somebody tearin’ up their home they’d go after them. I’m guessin’ these ghosts must not care what the walls look like since they probably don’t use them for anything practical anyway.

Whatever you think ’bout all this, take my advice. Don’t break into nobody’s property no matter what’s livin’ in it. Especially not in the hills. It ain’t the ghosts you need to be afraid of. It’s the scattershot pointed at you by the owner you need to fear.

Y’all be good.

The Daily Post – Silhouette

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