I’ve written a few times before my love of haunted places. Although I rarely have an experience, there’s usually a different feeling about a place once inside. I’ve stayed at the notoriously and supposedly haunted Myrtles a couple of times. The first time I had a minor experience — one hardly worth mentioning. The second time was even less mentionable, however the difference in the feeling of the rooms of where I was staying and the ones from another side of the house were noticeable and defined by a heavy feeling in the air. The next morning, after speaking with the people who had stayed in that part of the house, we learned that they didn’t experience anything unusual. My friends and I slept like babies. Either way, it was a fun trip marked by late night drinking, louder than loud bullfrogs and cicada and a foot dip in the fountain.
St. Francisville, LA
June 26, 2013
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Prints include these:
Place your hand through the bar.
Old Slave Quarters
Goal: Photograph environment for ghosts — real, imagined, and metaphor.
(Excuse the resolution of most of these pictures. The internet is a helluva thing.)
But first a video…
Click on photograph to make it grow.
I haven’t been able to upload all of my pictures from my nearly 2 weeks of travel but I thought I’d at least post this one since it feels like a tribute to a haunting visual style that has greatly influenced me.
Sachs Bridge in Gettysburg, PA is supposedly haunted. The entire battlefield is supposedly haunted but particularly this place. The story goes, and forgive me if I get the details wrong, that three Civil War soldiers were hanged from the rafters and many other wounded soldiers passed away during its temporary use as a triage center during the battle of Gettysburg. Lots of suffering. Lots of death.
My sister and I took a late night drive to the bridge to see what we could get. Nothing happened, of course. Creepy as hell though.
I didn’t see anything but a lot of stories abound from people’s experiences inside Union Gate Cemetery — a neighborhood dive of a graveyard in Easton, Connecticut that sits between the crossroads of three roads with a small creek behind it. I’ve been wanting to check this place out since I was about 11 or 12. My girlfriend had to work in Danbury so I took the car out for a ride until I ran into Union Gate.
It’s positioned in a strange place. Usually when you drive past a cemetery, there are trees and a good block of land separating it from highways or roads but this one was right there like a gas station. If there was any place you’d hope to be haunted it should be the one that’s convenient, easy to get in, and easier to get out. The old part of the cemetery is in ruins with some graves dating back to 1763. Most of these gravestones are in disrepair while the “newer section” is bountiful with large headstones but even some of these had broken apart either due to Connecticut’s ever-changing climate or late night visitors who can’t behave themselves. I’m guessing the latter.
It was raining when I got there so taking pictures with my camera was at times difficult. Anyway, here are some pictures I caught: