Unseen Resident – Part 3: Heating Up

If you are just tuning in to the hauntings in my house, might I recommend reading part 1 and part 2 first?  The background info will help.

When we had the first investigation done on August 2nd, I had to sequester myself with my dogs because their anxiety levels were interfering with the investigation.  I didn’t explain what happened to the rest of the people in the house because I didn’t have first-hand knowledge and expected to have evidence to back things up.  I still don’t have the evidence, but I don’t want to wait any longer to continue.  However, I must state that I was not involved, so I have no personal knowledge of the veracity of what happened.  I can only tell you what they told me.  And worse, things have heated up, making what happened that night seem almost insignificant.  So I’ll only mention a couple of things that happened that night…

The group returned to Janice’s room after I retired with the dogs.  The EVP revealed a chilling response to the question, “What do you want?”  It replied, “Get the g..”  The group tried to figure out what the last word was…girl? guy?  It was Janice who finally figured it out: gun.  There was no mistaking the word after that.  Now who would have thought that two middle-aged women would be packing heat?  Well, we are.  And we’re pretty damn good with them, too.  (Top female in the reserve peace officer academy, thank you very much.  And, yes, there were other females in the academy.)  Our guns are now very safely stored in a vault.

After that chilling EVP, the group moved out to the garage where Alicea had seen the apparition when she was living here.  Three of the four investigators became ill within a few minutes of going into the garage and had to leave the room.  The one man that remained was shoved.

Over the next few weeks, Janice and I both had our health affected (see Part 2).  Getting desperate, we called Laura Johnson back, and she set up an emergency team to come out on Sunday, September 8.  One of my sisters, Judy, arrived from Arizona the night before, so we had another skeptic in the group.  The seven people in the group on Sunday night were: Janice, Judy, and me; Laura Johnson, Mariah (a channeler), Debbie (an empath), and Elizabeth Barton (metaphysics instructor, reverend, astrologer, and all-around amazing clair-just-about-everything who reads energies).

Investigations typically start off with a quick walk-through so that everyone involved can get a layout in their heads before the lights go off.  Because of the activity that started immediately, though, the walk-through took almost two hours…for a 1097 sq. ft. house.  At one point, Mariah was physically blocked by an unseen force from entering the house from the back yard and had to sneak around to the side entrance.  In the garage, Mariah and Elizabeth both sensed Native American influences.  While no one got sick this time, we were hit with a more chilling revelation.  The garage appears to be sitting directly on top of a sacred piece of Native American land.  Two of the four sensitives felt that this wasn’t necessarily burial ground, although they thought there were bones there, but rather they felt it was a sacrificial area.  Human or animal sacrifices?  They couldn’t tell.  Just that it was a very, very sacred area.

Could they be right?  Quite possibly.  We are less than a mile from the Mission Santa Clara, which has a dark past.  Research into this area has been interesting, with the atrocities delivered to the Native Americans hinted at but well hidden.   This is a part of history that REALLY bothers me, and the idea that my home is on sacred land was like a punch to my stomach.

We continued on the walkthrough of the house and stopped in Janice’s bedroom – the aforementioned “Grand Central Station” for paranormal activity.  Everyone except Elizabeth squeezed into the room, and within moments, Mariah sat down – slumped, really – and it was obvious that the girl I’d just met had become someone else.  Her eyes, demeanor, voice…all different.  She’d become a morose, sullen teenage boy.  She/he tossed around insults and asked for the other lady, Elizabeth.  I left the room and found Elizabeth in the front room searching through her purse for her recorder.  I watched as she methodically went through the contents, but the recorder was not there.  I searched the surrounding area, but did not find the recorder.  I personally suspected that she had simply left it at home, although she was positive she’d brought it.  Empty handed, we finally returned to the room where Mariah’s channeled spirit was impatiently waiting.

The spirit that came through was a young man who had been killed many years ago, possibly in the 70s.  “I was supposed to find stuff, and I got caught.”  We couldn’t tell if this was a burglary that went bad or perhaps a drug deal.  His story was fascinating.  When asked why he was still here, he responded, “I need to get that gun.  I needed the gun.”  This made my hair on my arms stand up.  Was this the person who was heard on the EVP in August asking to get the gun?

Elizabeth talked with him, urging him to move on, but he kept repeating, “no one recognized me when I was living, but they recognize me now.”  Yes, he had our attention.  He refused to cross over until he could see his sister.  He was adamant about it.  Elizabeth called on Archangel Michael to wrap him in a loving light and to have an angel go with him (“like a parole officer?” he asked).  When Mariah was back, she said that he definitely left.

Next we moved into my room.  Because I had never felt any paranormal activity in this room, the previous group hadn’t investigated in here.  We did an EVP, and I can hear a voice on the recording, but I can’t make out the words.  We were just about to leave the room when we noticed that Mariah was not Mariah.  I wish I had a video camera going rather than just the voice recorder.  I had thought she changed a lot when she channeled the boy in the other room, but now she was someone completely different.  Even before we heard the voice come through, I knew that this was a Native American man.  The skeptic in me thought back to my reaction in the garage when they said that this was sacred land.  They had to have noticed that it affected me.  Was she playing on this?  If she was, she was a damn good actress.  When asked who he was, he replied, “I am the protector of this area.  I am the keeper here.  I never lived on this plane.  I am a lot higher than all of you will ever know.  I am the keeper they worshipped.  I will help guide you to get those answers and have my people help you.  You must remember to be open to the answers we give you.”

When asked if there was a way to block the house from spirits coming in, he responded, “sometimes intention is not everything.  They’ve tried.  But I think it is a force greater than man.”  Probably the most precious thing I heard, though, was that he likes having us here, that we have strength and balance.  He said that we need to protect ourselves if we are to stay here.  He pointed out that my energy is being drained because I’m trying to keep everything together.

When Mariah was back to herself, she was completely exhausted.  She said that it was the most draining channeling she had ever done.  The circles under her eyes and her drawn expression attested to it.  But the following morning, I discovered that it wasn’t only her energy that had been used.  My laptop was sitting on the shelf by my bed.  I had fully charged it shortly before the group had arrived and then turned it off so that it wouldn’t interfere with any of the electronic equipment being used or give false EMF readings.  Its spare battery was also charged and sitting next to it.  Likewise, my cell phone had been fully charged and was off.  But in the morning, the laptop, the spare battery, the cell phone, and its backup battery were all completely dead.  Zip. Zero. Zilch. Dead.

As directed by the Native American protector, we next went to the workout room, the room that Mariah had been barred from entering earlier in the evening.  Harriett, the previous owner popped in via Mariah but said that there were others that needed to come through.  Surprisingly, we got very little activity over the next hour or so.  I was pleased when Bill (Harriett’s husband) came through and I was able to let him know how much I appreciate the craftsmanship of the brick on the house (he was a mason).  The only other thing of strong significance was what we found in the front room.  Sitting on the arm of the couch next to where Elizabeth had been searching through her purse earlier in the evening was her missing recorder.

At this point we were absolutely certain that we had numerous unseen residents in the house.  I was already thinking of moving, and had spoken to my realtor about it.  I was surprised to find out that I was obligated to disclose that I suspected the house to be haunted if I were to try to sell it.  Sure wish the previous owners had told me.  It was pointed out that since I had posted these blogs about it, there was documentation of the haunting.  Unless the haunting was an actual selling point for someone, I would be hard-pressed to sell it.  But other than some negative feelings, things being moved, gone missing, it wasn’t too bad.  A few days later, that changed.  For the first time, a negative entity made a physical and aggressive appearance.

I’ll tell you more about it in the next blog.  Until then, keep one lesson in mind: never, ever, try to rid a house of spirits when you are alone.

Ready to read on? Click here for Part 4

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