A (True) Ghost Story

Writerly friends, my family has two camps re: the ghost thing. Some of us believe. Some of us don't. The believers find it impossible to wake the skeptics when a vision skimpily clad in reality appears to us in the middle of the night.

You can take a ghost tour in my home town,
old Ellicott City.

This happened (really):

The Old Hotel

by Laura Shovan

There was a cackle in the hall,

a creak, a heavy footstep fall

that night we spent in Montreal.

My mother said, “An old hotel!

Haunted, but we might as well

enjoy the spooky clientele.”

And that is when she passed out cold,

leaving me, more shy than bold,

to watch the long, long night unfold.

I fell asleep, and it was dark

as black cat’s fur when some odd spark

or shimmer caused me to remark,

“Are you awake?” for standing near

my mother’s bed, a woman sheer

as smoke had not yet disappeared.

I am entering "The Old Hotel" in Susanna Leonard Hill's Halloweensie writing contest. The rules are simple: child appropriate, 100 words, must include "black cat," "cackle," and "spooky" in the text. Deadline is 10/31, natch.

Give it a go!

From FanPop. 
Sadly, black cats are at risk of abuse on Halloween.

I have one other poem about the other side. It was part of the Poetry Postcard Series, and includes a ghostly photograph from Williamsburg, VA. You'll see a close-up of the ghost (a little girl) at this post.

Poetry Postcard 23

Ghost Tour, Williamsburg

We stand

outside the house,

paved street

between our group

and its front door.
The tour guide says

we should go
no closer. We

flash our cameras,

hoping photos

will reveal more

than the dark

façade we see.

At home, I scan

the pictures:

light reflected

in the window glass --
a glowing child
who seems

about to flee.

by Laura Shovan

I bought this postcard -- one of the original 17 I purchased for the 44 Postcard Project -- because of a family visit to Williamsburg, Virginia in August, 2011. (Read a post about our trip.)

WILLIAMSBURG LODGE, WILLIAMSBURG, VIRGINIA

This attractive modern hotel, owned and operated by

Williamsburg Restoration Inc., features rooms and

meals at moderate prices. Coffee Shop and special

facilities for tour parties.

WILLIAMSBURG INN AND LODGE, WILLIAMSBURG, VA.

It was my first time there. My husband had visited as a teen. The kids had never been.

We had a blast. It was sweating-from-your-scalp-follicles hot, but we signed up (free with regular tickets) for Rev-Quest. Rev-Quest is Colonial Williamsburg's version of live action role play (LARP). 

LARPing in Williamsburg. The bandanna
identifies you as a spy-hunter.

We had a mystery to solve! There was a clue book, coded messages, cell-phone texts with additional clues (a little odd, considering the place) and instructions. My tech-minded kids loved running around Williamsburg, talking to spies and chasing down a revolutionary traitor.

We also went on our first ghost tour, walking through Williamsburg at night. It was at the Peyton-Randolph House that my camera picked up this image, reflected in the windows.

The Peyton-Randolph House is reported to be
one of the most haunted houses in the U.S.

Close up of the image.

There were many other strange photographs, any of which might inspire a poem. But while I was writing, the sense of movement in this image came to mind.

One more photo to share: Our tour guide -- whether an act or not -- refused to take us closer than 30 feet away from the house. Some Mr. Tough Guy on our tour decided he was a non-believer. To make his teenage daughters squeal, he started to cross the street. I took this shot:

He was pretty freaked out when I showed him
the photo, with orb over his head, on my camera screen.

I am on the fence about ghosts and spirits. My family has its share of ghost stories. I will say that I have seen -- even before this tour -- things that I can't explain.

(This postcard and poem went out to a friend who was once a Ghost Tour Guide in Old Ellicott City. Yes, we have our own ghosts in our Pre-Revolutionary downtown.)