(News Flash: Jeffrey Stanley’s BONEYARDS reincarnates in Philly this June at the Art Church of West Philadelphia as part of the 2015 SoLow Fest. Tickets and full details here.)
This posting is a promised addendum to my 3/14/15 visit to Bachelors Grove Cemetery, a brief stopover during my Amtrak Writers Residency trip across the US. To read about my witch encounter and see my Bachelors Grove Cemetery slideshow read the full entry here. (If you’re looking for the Hotel Colorado ghost photos and EVP session they’re here).
Now for the audio I recorded live from my P-SB7 spirit box at the Fulton family grave. As usual I have slowed it down but maintained the original pitch, boosted the volume and applied a little noise reduction. I stress again, as I’ve done here in the past and in my Washington Post story on this subject, that I remain agnostic about the existence of ghosts, and also view the spirit box as a form of surrealist art; an aural version of the old Exquisite Corpse game created by the Surrealists. That said, a transcript and my interpretation follow:
“Mom, it’s dark.” Chilling. Although it sounds like a child it’s certainly older than an infant so perhaps it’s one of the other spirits said to haunt Bachelors Grove Woods. Buried here is Marcia May Fulton, born and died 1914, daughter of Bertrand Fulton and Kathryn Vogt. As you can see, lots of visitors leave toys for her.
“What is this for?” I love that this is said just as I’m bringing the camera closer to the grave. Seems a reference to either my camera or the spirit box.
“O Indian.” Awkward phrasing for sure, and not sure what it might mean but it’s so clear I’ve kept it. According to encyclopedia.chicagohistory.org, “Evidence of Native American occupation in the area of Midlothian abounds…The Potawatomi were the last Native American occupants of the area. The Old Indian Boundary Line crosses to the southeast of the village.” Maybe the voice is saying Old Indian instead of O Indian. Or perhaps it’s a clairvoyant prediction of the Ute I was to encounter a few days later during a seance in Glenwood Springs, CO.
“Fulton.” This is the Fulton family grave.
“A photograph.” She’s answering the second voice above who asked, ‘What is this for?’
“Marcia.” Again, the infant buried here is Marcia Fulton. What’s strange is that her name isn’t visible anywhere on this partially destroyed gravesite, so I sat there wondering as I recorded this what might be her name. It’s as though the voice is reading my mind. Only after getting back to a computer was I able to look up and learn her name.
“It’s bad here.”
“Listen.” We’re trying, friend. Keep ‘em coming.