The events of the day left my two companions and I in an absolute state of wonder and awe. We had come to I had come to Maysfield House expecting nothing more than a few cold spots, which is what I have only experienced on many of my previous investigations. However this house, this hidden gem of the paranormal has far exceeded my expections and left me wanting no craving more of what it had to offer. It amazes me that we had only been here a little less than three hours and we have already obtained evidence of direct contact with whatever spirit entities inhabited this amazing location. There was only one thing that could top the direct contact and that would be obtaining a video or a picture of a full bodied apparition, this is considered the holy grail, so to speak, for every paranormal researcher the world over. I could only hope or perhaps pray that such a golden oppurtunity would present itself.

As we sat around the table eating our evening meal Jacob and I spoke excitedly about the direct spirit contact with the entity in what was once the playroom for the children of Elijah Maysfield. However, despite my elation I could not help but notice that my best friend and colleague, Richard Webber was quiet if not completely withdrawn. To put it simply he was not his normal opinionated self.
“Hey, uh, Richard you ok over there?” I asked my friend genuinely concerned for his mental well being. It never occured to me that what Richard had witnessed today would bring his entire world crashing down around his ears. It can be a very traumatic experience.
“I, uh.” Richard managed to say as he put his sandwich down. “In all my life I have never witnessed anything like that.” Richard paused to collect his thoughts and stole a glance at my student who was beaming smugly. Jacob and Richard had never gotten along very and each man had some very strong opinions concerning the other.
“Ya know.” Richard continued, “Although I have accompanied you on a few investigations I have always secretly mocked you and wondered why a gentleman of your intelligence was involved in such superstition. I can only say that now I see and I want to apologize to both you and Jacob. You were right.” Wow, I was truly stunned by my friend’s apology I have never known Richard to be sorry for anything certainly not this. I looked at Jacob whose smugness gave way to humility, even he was taken back by what my colleague had to say.
“If ghosts are real, that would mean that a monster does indeed swim Loch Ness, bigfoot must haunt the forests of the Northwest and aliens have visited our world on more than one occassion.”
“ya know what Richard.” Jacob said cutting me off. ” It’s cool I don’t really hold anything against you and neither does Doctor Latrell. But as for giant aquatic lizards, hairy man beasts and little green men zipping around our skies in their hot rods of the gods let’s just tackle one thing at a time. Alright.” Ah the resiliency of youth I really did not expect that Jacob.
“Well.” I cut in with a yawn. “This old man needs rest and I’m sure Richard could use some to. Lets have three shifts of three hours so someone is always keeping watch on the monitors. Jacob, my little friend you are first.” Jacob gave me the thumbs up and took his post behind the monitors while I and my changed friend shuffled off for a few hours of much needed rest.

I truly hope you are not bored because the best is yet to come. Please let me know what you think leave a comment or e-mail me at t_seeker@hotmail.com. You can also find me on Myspace just search for Rick E. Hale:paranormal researcher, writer.

In the thirty plus years that I have been involved in this bizarre enterprise of chasing the dead there is one fundemental fact that I have learned, nothing about paranormal research is glamorous. Allow me to explain. Over the last decade ghost hunting (god, I hate that term) has become a favorite pasttime for those who wish to catch a glimpse of something that far exceeds the realm of human understanding. Thanks in large part to a few wildly popular television programs, anybody with a few extra bucks to spare can buy a few pieces of equipment and run into an allegedly haunted location in the hopes that they will obtain a photo or an audio recording of someone who has departed our world. In the process there are two things they either forget or do not know, 1: Researching the history of the location should be a key priority before they go running in to a location. Researching the history can give you a proper perspective on why a spirit haunts a building and who that spirit might be. And 2: Chances are you will leave that location with nothing more than a few fuzzy pictures and white noise on a voice recorder oh yeah, and not to mention a sore ass from sitting all night. I guess that’s why I’m lucky to have Jacob Weintraub as an assitant. Jacob understands these facts and when it comes to the equipment that I use he is one hell of a whiz.

By the six o’clock hour Richard and I were done hooking up a few cameras and the wireless mic unit and met in the dining room which would serve us as a command center of sorts.
“Where is Jacob?” Genuinely concerned for my assistant who was usually the first to finish.
“There he is. What the hell is he doing?” Richard said as we looked down at a monitor watching as my student slowly backed out of a room on the second floor. We watched as he looked down at his arm and took off down the hall like a bat out of hell. A few moments later Jacob came flying into the command center out of breath. At first I thought he was in shock until he looked up and began to laugh as a wide toothy grin spread across his face.
“I was…I was.” Jacob was finally able to breathlessly stammer out. “I was in the playroom setting up a thermometer when I heard a voice say, ‘Not there lad, there.’ ” Jacob paused for a moment as he fully regained his composure. “I turned around expecting to see you standing over my shoulder and no one was there, I was completely alone.”
“Nothing more than a heightened sense of awareness in an allegedly haunted house.” Richard said sincerely. Jacob shot my colleague a nasty look that betrayed his true feelings for Richard Webber.
“Here feel this.” Jacob said rolling up the sleeve of his shirt. “Here” Richard was the first to grab his arm and commented that it was noticably colder than the surrounding area. When I touched it the warmth was just beginning to return.
“It touched you?” Richard asked.
“Yeah as I backed out of the room I felt a strong hand grip my arm that’s when I ran.”
“Well,” I said grabbing a camera and tape recorder. “Let’s go have a looksy and see if this entity is still about.”

As we entered the cutely decorated room that was used as a playroom by Maysfield’s children I became intensly aware that we were not alone. I handed the video camera to Jacob and set the tape recorder down on a little wooden play table in the center of the room.
“Is there anybody here who would like to speak to us? We are not here to harm you or force you out we just want to know who you are. If you can answer a few questions can you knock on something.” I paused for a moment and listened and the three of us jumped when a loud knock seemed to come from the wooden play table. I smiled. “Good, good. Now when I ask a question can you give me one knock for yes and two for no.” At my request one soft knock eminated from the play table. I looked over at Richard who was incredulous at what he was hearing and Jacob of course was jumping out of his skin with exitement but he continued to roll.
“Are you the master of the house, Elijah Maysfield?” Two knocks.
“Are you Mrs. Maysfield?” Richard broke in. Two Knocks.
“One of the children?” a series of enthusiastic knocks sounded not just from the table but from the wall behind me.
“Ok, great. I hope you are not scared by our presence.” Two knocks. “Good because we mean you no harm.” At the word harm a cold breeze blew through the room and the door slammed shut. All three of us jumped similtanouesly.
“Are you still there?” I asked and waited for a response when none came after a minute I turned the audio recorder off and stuffed it back in my pocket.
“Well what do you think, doc?” Jacob asked lowering the camera.
“It looks as if Maysfield just may be what we were looking for. Anybody for sandwiches?” I asked as I walked out of the room with the biggest smile on my face I have ever had.

More soon…

Rick E. Hale

t_seeker@hotmail.com

Thursday, October 9

It’s not everyday that the oppurtunity of a lifetime falls from the heavens into your lap. For over thirty years I have dedicated my life to answering one of mankind’s greatest questions, does human intelligence survive the death of the body? Or are we, as my more mainstream colleagues believe, just a bunch of soulless robots operating on some kind of advanced animal instinct? I am hoping this trip to Maysfield House, reportedly the most haunted house in the world will provide me with the evidence I and millions of others desire to answer this fundemental question.

As anyone will tell you I am not a religious man but a man bourne of pragmatism. I do not believe in the fairy tales that says that some great omnipotent ruler resides in the sky and sits as judge, jury and executioner over his human subjects, and yet I can not shake the notion that there is so much more to man then just being a shaved ape. I guess you sould say, despite my lack of faith in a supreme being, I do accept the mystical idea of the human soul a ghost in the machine if you will. Perhaps this is why I spend my life and my education chasing shadows.

I first heard of Maysfield House and it’s alleged hauntings only six months ago from one of my students, Jacob Weintraub an enthusiastic student of the paranormal, who due to his knowledge and research concerning Maysfield is accompaning me on this little road trip. When Jacod told me about Maysfield he was astonished that I have never heard of this gem of the supernatural that virtually sat in our own backyard. Jacob informed me that Maysfield House was perhaps the most haunted home in the United States if not the entire world. I informed him that over the years I have visited many homes, not just in this country but in Europe as well that could lay better claim to such a dubious title. I further explained that although I have had many personal experiences at many of these locations I have yet to obtain that one piece of irrefutable evidence that I can present to the world and declare with all confidence, “See there is a great beyond and here is the proof.” To this all Jacob could say was at Maysfield I will obtain that elusive proof.

At this point my curiosity was piqued and I needed to know more about this haunted house that literally scared the crap out the general population of northern Illinois. I cornered Jacob after a class and asked him if he wanted to go get a bite and a beer and perhaps tell me more about the the most haunted house in the world. Jacob was all to pleased. Over a pizza and a pitcher of brew Jacob launched into what seemed like a rehearsed oratory on Maysfield House. Jacob Informed me that Elijah Maysfield, world traveler, adventurer and some might say occult quack returned to Illinois in 1897 after living abroad in some of the most isolated spots the world has to offer for many years researching the religious and cultural beliefs of some very obscure native peoples. When he returned he brought with him a beautiful Tibetan woman that he had married while living in the Himalayas and three children, twin girls aged eight and an infant son. Jacob went on, Elijah loved his family and was a doting father to those three children and a devoted husband to his wife so it really came as no surprise when Elijah, spent a large portion of his fortune and had Maysfield House built as a gift for his beloved family who had never lived in anything grander than a shack in the foothills of the world’s tallest mountain range. Some might say it was at this time that odd things began to happen.

Shortly after moving into the mansion, Maysfield a devoted student of the occult allegedly attempted to summon a powerful spirit in a ritual he learned from a wizard in Africa. Maysfield was told by this wizard that this spirit would give him and his family long life and great wealth but due to a minor mistake or miscalculation in the ritual, Maysfield lost control of this spirit, which was actually a demon, and the entity turned the Maysfield into a literal hell on earth which resulted in Elijah Maysfield completely losing his freaking mind and brutally murdering the wife and children that he so completely adored. Now I realize, Jacob said, that their is no objective proof to back up these claims and they could really be nothing more than stories, but many who have either lived in or visited the home have claimed to have had eerie and frightening experiences that even drove one female lodger completely mad. I tracked down this woman and she does in fact exist and is living out a catatonic existence in a home in northern Wisconsin. All I could think was wow, what a load of crap, however imagine the feeling of Irony when two days after this conversation the Illinois State Board of Historic Homes contacted the university to see whether or not they had a department or an expert on the subject of ghosts and hauntings. The state wanted a thourough investigation done and they wanted the reports and the stories of ghosts and goblins put to rest before they turned the home into a museum. And just imagine the elation Jacob Weintraub had when I called him and told him to pack his gear and gather his courage because he was going for a five day trip to this alleged abode of demons and other dark forces. I feared Jacob would explode.

More soon.

Rick E. Hale
t_seeker@hotmail.com

Introduction:An Explanation for my insanity

I love a good horror tale, but not any old old tale of horror. Not the kind of horror where brain hungry zombies over run the world or a story of a sexually repressed madman who grabs the closest kitchen knife and carves up big tittied coeds like it ain’t no thing. No my favorite tales must have an element of the supernatural and unfortunately our modern world is seriously lacking a good ghost story. I love the stories of wispy apparitions that send a family of four running for the hills due to it’s unleashing it’s untold powers of scaritude. Those are the stories that I can not get enough of.

I wrote the Dark Thing almost twenty years ago in my sophmore year of high school as I wiled away the hours of a three day sentence of detention, I will not bore you with the why I was in detention but I can assure you I deserved every second of it and it’s mind numbing monotony. But I digress. I was fortunate enough to have Mr. Prendergast, a nice guy and throwback to the days of old when hippies roamed the earth and love was free. Prendergast did not care what we did as long as we were quiet and did not cause him any grief. As I sat with pencil in hand this tale of terror came to me almost like a gift from the gods and my pencil began to move.

As I wrote, Mr. Prendergast inquired as to what I was doing. I informed him that I had a great idea for a ghost story and it was intention to have it finished when my sentence was over. Prendergast, explained that he loved a ghost story and would love to read it when I was done. At the end of the three days I happened my masterpiece over.

The very next day Mr. Prendergast sought me out and eventually found me in the dining hall. As he laid it down in front of me all he could say, “You got some talent. But kid you are one sick little monkey.” All I could do was smile I accomplished a goal, I managed to scare someone. Does this make me a little insane? Perhaps, however I prefer the term eccentric. It is my hope after you are done reading my opus of horrors you will sit back and think the same thing that teacher thought over twenty years ago, “You are one sick little monkey.” So turn out the lights, light a cigarette and crack a beer for in the coming days you will be introduced to my insanity and “The Dark Thing.”

Rick E. Hale
2/18/09
t_seeker@hotmail.com