Behind The Scenes of Did I See a Ghost?!

Some of you may have read my article ” Did I See a Ghost?!” on The Southern Weekend. I’m going to let y’all know how that came about.

 

I legitimately had an episode in my own, the first own I’ve had on my own since… well… college, and my lipgloss literally went flying off of the my bedside table. No explanation. Not a slow rolling slide. And the floorboards aren’t uneven there. There had been other odd things happening, like something not being where I thought I left it- the record player being on a different speed, but I attributed those events to me being forgetful. But after the lipgloss event I had to wonder, perhaps they all for one reason?

 

Then my boss tells me he wants a halloween article from me for the site, and I tell him that I really think there might be a ghost in my house. While putting together those pieces, I was tasked with finding out about haunted history elsewhere near me. There’s Priscilla and Ned Esser’s home and their “Ghosty” who likes to take items and hide them, who had been upset with the previous owners of the home not taking care of it. There’s Uncle Pliny of the Bennett Home, so called I think by most Maconites even though the Bennett’s no longer live there.

 

There’s various ghosts of Mercer University, as outlined by Gateway Macon. There’s the reports, although noone would go on record, of footsteps behind people at the Hay House- and lights turning on without explanation.

 

There’s the ghosts of the Cannonball House, angry at bourbon being served near the servant’s quarters and the kitchen, and the Judge whose birthday was yesterday.

 

 

And then there was Central State Hospital, whose grounds I had been on only once before. The adventurous journalist blogger in me decided to overcome my easily spooky self and venture back up there- but only if a friend would come with me. He made fun of me easily getting the herby-jeebies- but even he acknowledged how strange it was when the one dark cloud appeared over the Jones Building with it’s cold air breezing through us as we photographed it. And how it was gone, not even in view behind us, once we left.

 

 

 

I’m learning that ghost stories are very much a part of our storied Southern heritage. Is it perhaps because we all love a story so much? Is it because verbal storytelling holds a historic place in our hertiage, perhaps traced back to when not every one knew how to read? Or is it because we’re so used to telling tales of heroes by gone, tracing back to That War which ended in 1865- which seemed to take so much regional pride with it?

 

I’m not exactly sure. Not every story I found would make it’s way into my article- but I wanted to share some of them here. Happy Halloween y’all!

 

Love to all y’all,

 

Molly