A few local ghost stories...happy halloween!

"Now I know what a ghost is. Unfinished business, that's what." - Salman Rushdie

Halloween is here, which means ghosts and a fascination with all things ghostly. I’ve never seen a ghost, but I've always been fascinated by them. Who are these spirits, good and bad, inhabiting our world for reasons we cannot know? Some protect, others warn; some frighten and taunt us; others share the misery they suffered during their mortal lives; and, some simply wander, retracing steps they once took, over and over again…

Winder has its' share of ghost stories, so in the spirit of the season, I’ll share some of the ones I’ve heard, with you.

The Winder Fire Station has, over the years, been rumored to harbor the ghost of an older man who seems to mean no harm. Reports of strange lights, a door opening and closing, or sounds from the deserted engine bay are not uncommon, especially when it’s cold outside.  One chief told me stories about the Firehouse Ghost abounded back when the department was housed in its' previous location. There didn't seem to be any paranormal activity at the new station until the last load was moved, on an old fire truck no longer in use. The Firehouse Ghost must have sensed change and hopped on board, because as soon as that load showed up, he began to appear in the new station...     

The "Old Hospital" on E. Broad St., now a county building, is also the scene of various "bumps in the night." The most consistent tale is of an old caretaker, who may have even lived in a room in the hospital basement. He had a rocking chair that has been seen rocking, dust covered and forgotten, in the basement, with no one in it. There are also stories of the sounds he makes while doing his rounds through the old part of the building. Like the Firehouse Ghost, the Hospital Caretaker, seems to mean no harm. He’s simply continuing on with his duties…  

The now demolished Granite Hotel that once stood on the corner of Athens and Broad St. has long been a haven for the paranormal or at least stories about it. And, since granite reportedly attracts spirits because of its ability to remain cool and retain energy – conditions that “haints” need to occupy a place and make themselves known - that makes sense.

I first heard stories of a ghostly specter in the Granite Hotel when the restaurant in it was H's Grill. H’s served up some of Barrow’s best breakfasts and burgers for years and during that time, especially on a cold morning, “H” would encounter signs of a ghostly diner. Sometimes he’d find a nearly empty coffee cup on the counter – a counter he knew he’d left clean when he closed up that day before. Other times, he’d hear the back door open, then footsteps to the counter – the same seat where the coffee cup was sometimes found – but no one was ever there. H’s Ghost didn’t seem to mean harm either; he just wanted to get out of the cold.

When “H” retired, his grill became Humble Grounds, a neighborhood establishment owned by two brothers from New York. Apparently, H’s Ghost wasn’t happy with the sale or didn’t like Yankees or maybe just got grumpier with age, because the paranormal activity the Humble brothers and their staff encountered was much more dramatic and at times, frightening, than “H” had ever experienced. In fact, so many unexplainable things happened that the brothers kept a “Ghost Journal.”

The occurrences were almost daily and included doors opening and closing, footsteps, lights and TVs switching on or off, and people feeling as if they’d been touched when no one was there. One waitress actually saw a man walk in the front door while she was washing dishes, but when she turned to wait on him, no one was there. After a while, neither brother nor any of the staff would be in the restaurant alone.

Not all the Humble Grounds stories are scary. My favorite is told by a local fellow who stopped in for a brew one evening and while he was sitting at the counter, he had a vision of a young woman. She was "a fiery redhead" who sat down beside him and sent such a sensation of "warmth and comfort" over him that he felt like his "soul had been touched." A few months later he met the woman in his vision, married her and they are still living happily ever after, right here in Barrow County. 

 

The tales that come from a location next to the restaurant, also in the Granite Hotel, are of such a disturbing nature that the final occupants moved their business to get away from the power outages, odd noises, ghostly visions, sensations of warmth and cold, sounds of laughter and other unnerving events. They reportedly took a photo at one point during their torment that shows over 20 pairs of legs, dressed in period dresses or overalls, hanging down from the rafters.

There are also stories of ghosts in the “Old Courthouse” across from the Granite Hotel, especially in the “Old Courtroom.” In addition to the standard opening and closing doors, footsteps, and odd lights, moving chairs have been spotted. One deputy on a security check was visibly scratched on the back – by no one there – with another deputy as a witness.   

So, as you set out this Halloween, I offer up this Scottish prayer: "From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggedy beasties and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord, deliver us!" Have fun and stay safe.

 

 

Happy Birthday to me

“Every year on your birthday, you get a chance to start new.” – Sammy Hagar  

 

I just ate the last tomato sandwich of the season. There’s a crispness in the air and the leaves are starting to turn. Fall is definitely here and it’ll be Christmas before we know it. Where does the time go? How quickly it flies…

 

I will celebrate my 57^th birthday this weekend with a family trip to a pet-friendly state park cabin and I can think of no better gift. I do hope there won’t be a cake with a number so close to 60 on it, though. After all, I still pretty much feel the way I’ve always felt and I’d rather not have to blow out so many candles to get my birthday wish.

 

Age is a funny thing in that it constantly shifts. When I was a child, teenagers seemed old. When I was a teenager, someone in their 30’s was ancient. Once I hit 30, 45 was the next scary sounding number. Then, I ended up in my 40’s beginning to understand why people older than me always say “Time flies!” so emphatically. I’m not sure when I became the woman I now see in the mirror and how did those little children I remember so clearly end up in their mid-30’s?

 

I don’t have a lot of clear memories about my childhood – vivid glimpses of moments, but mostly just a happy blur. My teenage years were a struggle. I was an overweight overachiever with plenty of guy friends, but I never went on a single date.

 

During the second year of college my parents’ marriage fell apart and I ended up moving to Santa Cruz, CA with my mother. She’d always wanted to live at the beach and since Mr. Clark was the only person we knew along the whole West Coastline, we landed there. (At the time, Mr. Clark was a just friend and we were not romantically inclined…)

 

My mom crash landed pretty quickly, physically and emotionally. She died a short while later at the age of 38; I was 19 at the time. Her death sent me into a tail spin that kept me swirling in a frantic whirlwind of activity for the next 20 years because somehow, in my mind, my mom’s death at 38 meant I would die at that age, too. I’ve since read this is a common reaction among young women who lose their mothers, especially to a sudden death. But, knowing I was not alone did not ease my need to “get everything done” by the age of 38.  

 

I married (Mr. Clark) at 21 and had two kids right away. I threw myself into motherhood with great fervor. I spent lots of time with my children and made them the center of my life. We traveled a lot and had grand adventures because every moment was precious and every year brought me closer to my last. I was sure that by the time they were teenagers, I would only be a memory and I wanted to be a good one.

 

Then, my 39^th birthday came and I was able to breathe a huge sigh of relief. The curse had lifted! Now I could slow down…But, my 40’s were a very busy time. I worked fulltime and both kids were busy teenagers, involved in a lot of activities. The college years seemed to fly by and before I knew it, I was in my late 40’s and we had two weddings to plan…Still so much to do, still feeling the need to borrow more time.      

 

I took my 90-year-old grandmother to a family wedding in Mexico when I was 45. She was still spry and adventurous, so we had a good time. On the long bus ride back, it hit me – my life really may be only half over. What a revelation! And, another moment to pause and sigh with relief.  

 

My 50’s have been much quieter than the rest of my life. I’ve been blessed with good health, enough wealth and no disasters. The kids are living solid lives, married to people they love. And, while there are no grandchildren yet, I’m confident there will be. It’s been easier to slow down, and simply live and enjoy the passing of time…

 

On the anniversary of my mother’s death this year, I said a prayer and lit a candle and took some time to think about her. It’s been 37 years since she died; I’m almost 20 years older than she was when her life ended so abruptly. And, while her story has been frozen, mine has gone on and on, in ways that have been precious and special. I’ve been blessed with a gift my mother never had – years of rich living. It occurs to me now that the best way to honor her memory is to savor and enjoy that. ..

 

A Roman playwright named Plautus said, “Let us celebrate the occasion with wine and sweet words.” I don’t know what occasion he was celebrating, but barring the unforeseen, the occasion of my 57^th birthday will be celebrated with wine and sweet words and I am so very thankful for that.

 

princess progress and "let it go!"

"I am Merida, and I’ll be shooting for my own hand!" - Princess Merida in “Brave”

 

I saw the most wonderful Facebook post the other day. It was of a little girl’s “Frozen” theme birthday party. There were seven small Elsa’s, all dressed in her beautiful blue gown, all wearing her sparkly tiara, all holding magic freezing wands and all obviously having the time of their lives.

 

They were lined up in front of a limousine on the Chateau Elan lawn and they were lovin’ it. The photos showed them dancing and parading, hugging, whispering, giggling and even wrestling on the ground, gowns disheveled, grass in their hair. It hasn’t always been okay for a princess to behave that way and I’m so glad the breeze that ruffled those precious princesses’ hair was blown by the winds of change.

 

I’ve always had a special place in my heart for the Disney princesses. I loved them when I was growing up and my daughter loved them when she was small. There’s just something about all those pastel colors, those big doe-like eyes, that fabulous unruly hair and those wonderful dresses that draws a girl in and holds her hostage for a few years.

 

I named my daughter Amelia, not after a Disney princess, but after a heroine - Amelia Earhart. I believe there’s power in a name and I wanted my girl to have a brave, adventurous spirit that would follow its own dreams and not listen when the world said "No!" if she wanted to do something unique, unusual or not yet done by a woman. My Amelia was born in 1983, and while women had made great strides down the path towards gender equality, there were still plenty of steps to be taken.   

 

The Disney princesses in my day were well mannered, docile and eager to please. Their only goal was to find true love’s kiss, marry Prince Charming and live “Happily Ever After.”  Thankfully, the princess role had expanded considerably by the time my daughter became enchanted.

 

She grew up dressing up like clever, brave, kind, mischievous young women who were a bit rebellious and able to think independently. Their stories still, however, were inextricably centered on the men in their lives. Their acts of bravery and rebellion, the lessons they learned and the trials they went through, all had to do with earning their father's respect or rebelling against the bad guy or finding true love. Even though their “Happily Ever After’s” were not easily won, they still faded into the sunset once they found true love’s kiss and became Mrs. Charming.  

 

That’s why I’m happy to see the latest brand of Disney princesses and movie heroines. In “Brave,” Princess Merida embodies all of the things we know and love about princesses PLUS she is a skilled archer with a head of particularly spectacular red hair and a mind of her own. Not much of a people pleaser, she’s determined to carve out her own destiny, no matter the cost. And, what a wonderful twist to the story when she wins her own hand by out shooting everyone in the archery match where she is the prize. Her father then proclaims (at her request) from that day forward, people in the kingdom can marry whomever they wish. Now that’s a happy ending…   

Another heroine functioning off her own script is Katniss Everdeen in “The Hunger Games.” Like Merida, “the girl on fire” is a skilled archer, independent thinker and much too busy to care about male approval. Katniss is brash - a fighter, not a lover – and, so self-directed and self-sufficient that she repeatedly saves herself, her friends, her family and the entire day.   

 

In “Frozen,” the most recent Disney princess hit, Elsa and Anna are orphaned sisters with virtually no men to please in their lives. Princesses who live in an icy land, their adventures center on Elsa’s ability to freeze things (even her sister, Anna’s heart) whenever Elsa loses emotional control. While there is romance, true love and a “Happily Ever After, the plot focus is on the sisters and their relationship.    

 

Elsa’s anthem – now apparently the anthem of little girls everywhere - is “Let it go!” most often sung unabashedly and at the top of their lungs, arms outstretched, while  twirling in 3-D. What Elsa is letting go of is fear’s control over her life; she’s also learning to accept her sister’s unconditional love. Pretty good messages for princesses in any day or time…

 

Life can be hard, scary and confusing for any princess who is trying to become an empowered woman. Self-esteem is critical, so is self-direction and the ability to take care of oneself. Believing on one’s own perception of the situation is also useful more often than not.  

 

I'm glad the heroines those seven little princesses at the “Frozen” birthday party will grow up with are broader, bolder, more complex and more self-directed than the princesses my daughter and I grew up with. As Katniss Everdeen said, “Fire is catching!” and the world can always use a few more empowered heroines and princesses.

 

 

our buddy Pete is a ghost...

“From ghoulies and ghosties and long-leggety beasties, and things that go bump in the night, good Lord, deliver us!” – a Cornish prayer

 

Fall is here, which means it will soon be Halloween and since nothing is scarier than a good ghost story, I’ll share mine. Spoiler alert – we have a ghost in our house; his name is Pete; and, he’s not scary at all, which is just fine with me.

 

Our house was built in 1903. It’s big and rickety and old, so it makes sense that we have a ghostly roommate, but we first met Pete through hearsay. The house was condemned when we bought it, badly damaged from a fire. It had sat vacant for some time and while it did seem quite dark, there was nothing spooky about it.

 

Then, as we began restoring it, people started stopping by - to welcome us to Winder, ask about the project and tell us about Pete. Apparently, the last family to inhabit the house before us was a fun loving, creative, boisterous bunch with five kids. Those kids had a lot of friends and the house was where those friends gathered after school, after football games, during the summer and for sleep-overs.       

 

According to the accounts of the now-grown-up/once-young visitors in our home, Pete is a young male entity who likes to play tricks, especially on kids spending time in his house. He’s never malicious and only rarely appears as the ghost-like image one might expect. Pete mostly just enjoys hanging out with young people, but sometimes he plays tricks on them – like taking their car keys or making noises in the night. It’s his way of saying, “Hey, guys, I’m here!”

 

During the many months it took us to restore the house, we heard a lot of Pete stories, so we were primed for him to make a grand appearance once we moved in - that, it turns out, is not Pete’s style. It took him months to do anything at all and when he finally let us know he was here, all he did was play a series of notes on the piano and beat several random riffs on my son’s drum set and those, only occasionally, in the middle of the night.

 

“Not much of a ghost here,” we thought, secretly glad that’s all we had inherited. But, when the kids hit high school, Pete began to have some fun. True to the home’s history, it was once again the hang out house, and more than once, after a football game or during a sleep-over, one of our guests had something turn up missing, only to find it again, once the search was discontinued.

 

That happened often enough that Pete became a legend in our time, as well. The kids called him by name, told stories about him, and, when necessary, ask him politely for whatever was missing – and every time, the object would reappear, within about a half hour, in an obvious spot we had already searched.

 

One night Pete hid one of my son’s friend’s car keys, which predictably reappeared after the young man said, “Alright, Pete – enough! I know you’re here. I just want to go home!”  That young man told his girlfriend’s dad about the event (probably because he got the girl home late) and it turned out, that dad knew all about Pete from his experiences in our house when he was in high school.

 

What we heard about Pete meshed with our experience. He was good natured and loved it when the house was full of noise and energy. The only time he got grumpy was when he thought his beloved house was in danger…(we heard tales of scary things being seen in the windows during the time the house was empty and folks were creeping around outside, perhaps hoping to steal one of the pretty mantels or ornate fireplace covers..) Pete also hates it when things get too quiet.

 

I didn’t experience Pete first hand until early in the fall when both kids were away in college. One morning I was sitting at the kitchen table reading the paper and the kitchen clock flew off the wall onto the floor. Startled, I picked it up and hung it back on the wall. A few minutes later, the clock flew off the wall again…”Wait a minute,” I thought, “This must be Pete!”

 

“I know you miss them, Pete,” I said. “So do I. But it’s just you and me here now, buddy, so let’s make the best of it.” That clock never flew off the wall again…

 

A few years later, during the week my daughter got married, our house was once again full of young vibrant energy. That time, Diet Coke cans started flying off the top of the fridge. (That’s where we kept canned drinks and Diet Coke is my now son-in-law’s favorite beverage.) Nothing like this had ever happened before, then it hit me - Pete was mad because our Diet Coke drinker was taking Pete’s friend away.

 

My daughter said Pete just wanted to be included. So, we sent him an invitation to the wedding by placing one addressed to “Pete” on top of the fridge in front of the Diet Coke cans. We told Pete we’d set him a place at the family table at the reception and that is exactly what we did. The Coke cans stopped flying and I like to think Pete had a grand time dancing in his ghostly best the night his friend, my daughter, got married to the Diet Coke guy.

 

I don’t’ know if ghosts are real, but I like to think the nice ones like Pete are. After all, wouldn’t any house or family be lucky to have such a loyal, fun-loving being, standing by, taking watch and enjoying the unique energy each house and family have?      

 

     

           

 

  

 

 

Thank you, Grammas...

“Perfect love sometimes does not come till the first grandchild.” – Welsh proverb

 

I had the good fortune to be the first grandchild for both of my grandmothers and for as long as I can remember we shared a special bond. I got to thinking about them the other day, after clicking on a “10 things I learned from my Grandmother” post on Facebook. On the surface, my grandmothers seemed like very different people, but they shared the same commitment to family, personal strength and profound wisdom that made them so special. The older I get, the more obvious it becomes that they had a fine and lasting influence on me.

 

So, here’s my “20 things I learned from my Grandmothers” list, along with a few lessons they tried to teach me, but I never got:  

 

1.) Family always comes first. As Jackie Onassis said, “If you bungle raising your children, I don’t think whatever else you do matters very much.”

 

2.) Keep your house clean. Make it a safe haven and a welcoming place. Decorate with the seasons and generously for the holidays. If you want your family to enjoy coming home, make home a fun, festive, love-filled place.

 

3.) Learn to hold your tongue, but don’t be afraid to offer your opinion when you feel strongly that something needs to be said.

 

04.) Make your own happiness; it won’t be handed to you on a plate. Hard times are followed by better times, so suck it up and stick it out.

 

05.) You are strong enough to get through anything. Trust your gut and rely on your common sense.  

 

06.) Carry lifesavers, gum, breath mints and Kleenex; be generous in handing them out.  

 

07.) Nurture a garden – flowers, vegetables or both. Don’t be afraid to get your hands dirty – literally and figuratively.

 

08.) Go for a walk. Ride a bike. Take care of yourself. Stay in shape.

 

09.) Create something beautiful each day. Play music, paint, bake, plant, write, arrange flowers, sew, take photos, rearrange or decorate. Appreciate art in its many forms and celebrate the artist in you. 

 

10.) Be an active listener. Express your sincere interest in others and their lives.

 

11.) Read, think, evaluate, exercise your mind. Learn from your successes and your mistakes.

 

12.) Buy nice things, take care of them and they will last a long time.

 

13.) Take time each day to stop and smell the roses, feed the birds, watch the sunset, enjoy a sweet scent on the wind. Savor nature’s beauty. Don’t forget to rest. Remember how to play.

 

14.)  Write letters, send cards, enclose photos and clippings. Thank you notes are not optional. They are mandatory and should be prompt, specific and sincere.  

 

15.) Smell nice - have a signature scent. You want your hugs to inspire pleasant memories, unlocked by that scent for years to come.

 

16.) Keep money of your own - preferably some cash, some stock and a separate savings or checking account.

 

17.) Think carefully about the gifts you give. Tailor them to the recipient – not your idea of who he or she should be. Make gifts fun, interesting and special.

 

18.) Loyalty is important; so is independence. Never let anyone make you less than you are or take away your belief in yourself.  

 

19.) Keep candy and toys and chocolates handy. Everyone deserves a treat now and then...And, yes, all things in moderation, for stress, sweets and many of life’s other challenges.   

 

20.) Remember that everyone is special and has something special to give. Look for that, nurture it, honor it and celebrate it.

 

And, now for the “5 lessons I wish I’d learned from my Grandmas, but didn’t:”    

 

01.) Cook from scratch. Pour love into the food you serve by enjoying the act of cooking. Both Grammas were excellent cooks who reigned in their kitchens with grace, skill and ease. Not me; in spite of countless hours spent watching and imitating, their art was lost on me. My children know I love them, but there’s nothing culinary in their memories.  

 

02.) Always wear lipstick, even while working in the garden or cleaning the house. And, never leave home without combing your hair and “putting on your face.” My Grammas both did this, a lot of women I know do this, but I’ve never been able to pull it off. Somehow, I’m always in the middle of something and making myself look presentable before going out into public is never a priority.  

 

03.) You’re never too old to be fashionable. Your husband deserves pleasant arm candy. Your children don’t want to be embarrassed. You want to like what you see in the mirror. Nope! Fail again. Sorry Grammas, the joy of fashion, like the joy of cooking, simply eludes me.

 

04.) Change your sheets weekly and hang them out in the sun to dry.  Even though I remember the heavenly smell of sun-scented sheets, I’m just too lazy to truck out to the line…Sorry if I’ve failed you, grandchildren-to-be.  

 

05.) Be patient. Compromise. Try as I do, these are difficult for me…

 

My Gramma Ruth died some years ago; my Gramma Opal, at 100, is still alive and quite spry. Both women have been and continue to be such an inspiration for me. Thank you for the more-than-10 lessons, Grammas, in so many ways.  

 

(PS - that is me, the first grandchild - age, maybe 2.)