My Ghostly Encounter at Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp
As promised last week, here is my recounting of what I personally experienced when visiting the Cassadaga Spiritualist Camp a couple of weeks ago.
My lovely wifey and I checked in at the community bookstore, which serves as the hub of the area and from which the daylight historical tours depart. (They also offer ghost-hunting tours on the weekends, as well as private sessions with the clairvoyants.) As it ended up being just the two of us, we got a personal tour from a very nice lady named Jamie. She showed us the community, pointed out the houses where prominent practitioners had lived or currently lived as well as the houses with the most haunted activity. We visited the several small parks in the village (it is most accurate to describe Cassadaga as a village, I think) and the temple where the Spiritualists hold their weekly services, services which typically include conducting séances.
As my better half and I were, as I stated, the only two folks taking the tour, Jamie felt comfortable having a seat with us on one of the pews in the temple, where we proceeded to chat for around an hour. She told us all about her personal experiences with Spiritualism, giving me the opportunity to ask a lot of questions. It was a really personalized experience and I count myself fortunate that things worked out the way they did.
Anyway, as we were sitting and chatting, there clearly came to all our ears the sound of male voices in conversation. The voices were SO distinct that Jamie called out: “Is someone there?” When she received no answer, she got up to go check. I followed her, my curiosity aroused. I can tell you plainly that there was no one in the building. Thus I found it most interesting when a few minutes later there was a loud crash that emanated from the same general area—and this crash most assuredly originated INSIDE the building. Once more Jamie went to check, and once more we found that the building remained empty except for the three of us. Neither did Jamie find anything amiss; there was nothing that could have made that crashing sound.
As for WHERE in the temple building the crash had occurred? “That’s the séance room,” Jamie informed me.
Folks, I offer no explanations and make no pontifications. I simply am reporting what I heard and what I experienced, as it happened. Can YOU think of a “logical” explanation for it?
WAYNE MILLER is the owner and creative director of EVIL CHEEZ PRODUCTIONS (www.evilcheezproductions.blogspot.com, www.facebook.com/evilcheezproductions), specializing in theatrical performances and haunted attractions. He has written, produced and directed (and occasionally acted in) over a dozen plays, most of them in the Horror and Crime genres. His first novel, THE CONFESSIONS OF SAINT CHRISTOPHER: WEREWOLF, is available for purchase here: https://www.smashwords.com/books/view/734763
MORTUI VELOCES SUNT!