Confessions of a Reluctant Ghost Hunter: A Cautionary Tale of Encounters with Malevolent Entities and Other Disembodied Spirits
Autor Von Braschler Cuvânt înainte de Jim Harolden Limba Engleză Paperback – 24 sep 2014
Sharing his true story of what can go wrong when ghost hunting, Braschler describes his training sessions with the professional ghost hunter and details his most difficult and dangerous attempts to remove spirits from haunted buildings, including an old church in Portland and an herbalist's trailer on Mount Hood, where he encountered a spirit known to choke people in their sleep. He explains how not all spirits are simply ghosts of deceased people reluctant to move on from this plane of existence. They may be entities created from the rage, hatred, or frustrations of a building's current or former inhabitants, and disturbing them can lead to dark confrontations without easy resolution.
Offering a primer on ghost removal, Braschler provides practical lists of what to do and what to avoid when removing ghosts from a haunted building. He outlines how to identify what kind of spirit you are dealing with, whether it is safe to attempt removal, and how to approach the ghost and convince it to leave. Detailing his own intense and sometimes hellish battles with unseen spirits, he also includes an impassioned plea of caution to those who try to contact ghosts and spirits purely for entertainment.
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Specificații
ISBN-13: 9781620553824
ISBN-10: 1620553821
Pagini: 192
Dimensiuni: 152 x 229 x 13 mm
Greutate: 0.32 kg
Editura: Inner Traditions/Bear & Company
Colecția Destiny Books
ISBN-10: 1620553821
Pagini: 192
Dimensiuni: 152 x 229 x 13 mm
Greutate: 0.32 kg
Editura: Inner Traditions/Bear & Company
Colecția Destiny Books
Notă biografică
Von Braschler, a former faculty member at Omega Institute for Holistic Studies, has led workshops throughout the United States and the United Kingdom. A lifetime member of the Theosophical Society, he is the author of several books, including Seven Secrets of Time Travel. He lives in St. Paul, Minnesota.
Extras
Chapter 1
Early Ghosts I Have Known
Newsroom Ghost
While I was working on a newspaper on Mount Hood in Oregon, I discovered that our printing plant in Gresham was haunted. The hauntings always seemed to happen late at night, close to midnight, when I was the only soul left in the building. I would be puttering away to get things ready for the next edition of our paper when I would hear strange noises--a ghost who would leave little doubt that it was out and about.
My sightings occurred in the summer. I would typically be working in the air-conditioned lunchroom where the beverage and snack machines were located. Because I was the only person in the building, I could spread my things out on the nice large lunch tables. The rest of the building consisted of the composition and press area behind heavy doors at the back of the building and a large, combined newsroom and business area at the front of the building, just outside the lunchroom. The building had been absolutely dark when I opened the door and entered.
My newsroom ghost made his presence known to me on three separate nights.
The first night I was startled to hear the doors that blocked the pressroom slam shut. Now, these were very large, heavy metal doors at the back of the composition area near the big presses. They buffered the noise of the presses. Also, you did not want just anybody going back there when the high-speed presses were running, so it was unlikely that these heavy doors had been left ajar or had blown open and closed by a strange draft. It took a strong press operator with both hands to pull back the pressroom doors.
Naturally, I ran back there to investigate the loud noise, even though I could easily identify the distinctive sound of the heavy press-room doors slamming shut. The building was otherwise deathly quiet.
Of course, I found nobody in the press-room or in the composition area. Both areas were dark and empty.
The experience gave me a strange chill that ran up my spine and made the hair on my neck tingle. There was no earthly explanation for that mysterious sound. Was the building haunted?
I quickly gathered up my things, turned off the lunchroom light, and left the newspaper plant. I did not bother to look around. I did not want to see or hear anything more inside that building that night. I told nobody about getting scared out of my wits.
But then it happened again the next week. I was behind on the week’s work and struggling to get the next paper out. I really didn’t expect another scare. I figured the mysterious noise was a one-time phenomenon, or at least that is what I tried to tell myself. Nonetheless, I decided that I would rush through my work and try to get out a little earlier that night. But my evening stay grew longer and longer, and soon I was back to working alone in the newspaper plant close to midnight. I was so absorbed in my work at that point that I did not think about the consequences of a repeat encounter with the ghost. And, after all, nothing had really happened to me last time: just a weird noise that I could not explain. And I did not expect something that strange to happen twice.
Well, I was wrong. About a quarter to midnight I heard what sounded like typing coming from one of the old typewriters in the business area at the front of the building. The bookkeepers still used old Underwood manuals. Only the newsroom was computerized back then. So I could easily recognize the sound of a typewriter when somebody was pounding on the keys.
And that was exactly what I heard. Somebody or something was pounding the keys, but in a concerted way that sounded like serious typing. There was a regular rhythm and pace to it, as though the words came easily to the typist. Whoever was typing knew how to type.
Now people always ask me what the ghost had typed. That is a reasonable question, and one I should be able to answer. All that I needed to do was run up to the front desk and check the typewriter. Even if there was no paper in the typewriter’s spindle, the depression of the keys would certainly have left an impression on the rubber roller itself.
But the truth is that I never went up front to investigate. I quickly grabbed my papers and keys to leave the building. I did not want to meet the ghost up close and personal.
Unfortunately, I had no choice. In a few weeks, I found myself working late and alone at the plant again. This time, however, I decided that I would close the doors to the lunchroom and get my work done as fast as possible, so that I could leave earlier than before. And the plan seemed to work. I was not distracted by things that go bump in the night, and I gathered my things to leave the lunchroom around 11 p.m.
Just as I was leaving, however, I caught something out the corner of my left eye. There was no door to the composition room, and you could easily see back there, even in the dim lighting. At one of the typography machines where compositors set type for display ads, I saw the hunched-over figure of what looked like a wiry, old man. He wore one of those old, green shades on his head, the sort of visors that old typesetters used to wear in the early days of newspapers. He seemed oblivious to me, absorbed in his work.
Early Ghosts I Have Known
Newsroom Ghost
While I was working on a newspaper on Mount Hood in Oregon, I discovered that our printing plant in Gresham was haunted. The hauntings always seemed to happen late at night, close to midnight, when I was the only soul left in the building. I would be puttering away to get things ready for the next edition of our paper when I would hear strange noises--a ghost who would leave little doubt that it was out and about.
My sightings occurred in the summer. I would typically be working in the air-conditioned lunchroom where the beverage and snack machines were located. Because I was the only person in the building, I could spread my things out on the nice large lunch tables. The rest of the building consisted of the composition and press area behind heavy doors at the back of the building and a large, combined newsroom and business area at the front of the building, just outside the lunchroom. The building had been absolutely dark when I opened the door and entered.
My newsroom ghost made his presence known to me on three separate nights.
The first night I was startled to hear the doors that blocked the pressroom slam shut. Now, these were very large, heavy metal doors at the back of the composition area near the big presses. They buffered the noise of the presses. Also, you did not want just anybody going back there when the high-speed presses were running, so it was unlikely that these heavy doors had been left ajar or had blown open and closed by a strange draft. It took a strong press operator with both hands to pull back the pressroom doors.
Naturally, I ran back there to investigate the loud noise, even though I could easily identify the distinctive sound of the heavy press-room doors slamming shut. The building was otherwise deathly quiet.
Of course, I found nobody in the press-room or in the composition area. Both areas were dark and empty.
The experience gave me a strange chill that ran up my spine and made the hair on my neck tingle. There was no earthly explanation for that mysterious sound. Was the building haunted?
I quickly gathered up my things, turned off the lunchroom light, and left the newspaper plant. I did not bother to look around. I did not want to see or hear anything more inside that building that night. I told nobody about getting scared out of my wits.
But then it happened again the next week. I was behind on the week’s work and struggling to get the next paper out. I really didn’t expect another scare. I figured the mysterious noise was a one-time phenomenon, or at least that is what I tried to tell myself. Nonetheless, I decided that I would rush through my work and try to get out a little earlier that night. But my evening stay grew longer and longer, and soon I was back to working alone in the newspaper plant close to midnight. I was so absorbed in my work at that point that I did not think about the consequences of a repeat encounter with the ghost. And, after all, nothing had really happened to me last time: just a weird noise that I could not explain. And I did not expect something that strange to happen twice.
Well, I was wrong. About a quarter to midnight I heard what sounded like typing coming from one of the old typewriters in the business area at the front of the building. The bookkeepers still used old Underwood manuals. Only the newsroom was computerized back then. So I could easily recognize the sound of a typewriter when somebody was pounding on the keys.
And that was exactly what I heard. Somebody or something was pounding the keys, but in a concerted way that sounded like serious typing. There was a regular rhythm and pace to it, as though the words came easily to the typist. Whoever was typing knew how to type.
Now people always ask me what the ghost had typed. That is a reasonable question, and one I should be able to answer. All that I needed to do was run up to the front desk and check the typewriter. Even if there was no paper in the typewriter’s spindle, the depression of the keys would certainly have left an impression on the rubber roller itself.
But the truth is that I never went up front to investigate. I quickly grabbed my papers and keys to leave the building. I did not want to meet the ghost up close and personal.
Unfortunately, I had no choice. In a few weeks, I found myself working late and alone at the plant again. This time, however, I decided that I would close the doors to the lunchroom and get my work done as fast as possible, so that I could leave earlier than before. And the plan seemed to work. I was not distracted by things that go bump in the night, and I gathered my things to leave the lunchroom around 11 p.m.
Just as I was leaving, however, I caught something out the corner of my left eye. There was no door to the composition room, and you could easily see back there, even in the dim lighting. At one of the typography machines where compositors set type for display ads, I saw the hunched-over figure of what looked like a wiry, old man. He wore one of those old, green shades on his head, the sort of visors that old typesetters used to wear in the early days of newspapers. He seemed oblivious to me, absorbed in his work.
Cuprins
Foreword by Jim Harold
Note to Reader
Introduction: I Am Ready to Tell My Story
1 Early Ghosts I Have Known
2 Meeting My Ghost-Hunting Teacher
3 Helen’s Ghost-Hunting Instructions
4 Ghost Hunting at an Old Portland Church
5 Mutilations, Floating Heads, and a Talking Dead Girl
6 Dealing with the Spirits in My House
7 The Herbalist’s Haunted Trailer in the Forest
8 Confronting the Spirit in the Trailer
9 Returning the Spirit Back to the Trailer
10 Consequences of the Trailer Haunting
11 The Unseen Problems with Ghosts and Hauntings
12 Some Dos and Don’ts for Ghost Hunters
Recommended Reading
Index
Recenzii
“Von Braschler weaves wondrous, cautionary tales about ghosts and hauntings in this chilling page turner. It is a must-read for all who deal with the paranormal--from ghost hunters to psychic mediums, from experts to novices. Confessions of a Reluctant Ghost Hunter puts into context real-life risks that come along with engaging the paranormal. A book that seekers of the unknown should carry in their arsenal.”
“Fascinating reading. How refreshing to meet a ghost hunter who doesn’t crave the limelight but honestly helps people. We learn that not all ghost hunting is nice and simple!”
“Von Braschler offers us expert guidance and an insightful, personal narrative of his work with spirits and other energetic entities. This is an excellent read for those seeking a balanced and nuanced perspective on a too-often glamorized topic.”
“Von Braschler’s new book is a fascinating account of his experiences as a ghost hunter. It’s an absorbing, compelling, authoritative look at this fascinating subject by a renowned expert in the field.”
“Von Braschler’s firsthand accounts of confrontations with human ghosts and nonhuman spirits throw new light on the afterlife and our mysterious relationship to it. His often terrifying quest for the truth connecting this world with the next amounts to nothing less than a voyage of discovery no reader will ever forget.”
“Fascinating reading. How refreshing to meet a ghost hunter who doesn’t crave the limelight but honestly helps people. We learn that not all ghost hunting is nice and simple!”
“Von Braschler offers us expert guidance and an insightful, personal narrative of his work with spirits and other energetic entities. This is an excellent read for those seeking a balanced and nuanced perspective on a too-often glamorized topic.”
“Von Braschler’s new book is a fascinating account of his experiences as a ghost hunter. It’s an absorbing, compelling, authoritative look at this fascinating subject by a renowned expert in the field.”
“Von Braschler’s firsthand accounts of confrontations with human ghosts and nonhuman spirits throw new light on the afterlife and our mysterious relationship to it. His often terrifying quest for the truth connecting this world with the next amounts to nothing less than a voyage of discovery no reader will ever forget.”
Descriere
A how-to primer on safe ghost removal with accounts of the author's most dangerous spirit confrontations