The Legend of Zap-Head.

The History: Years ago there was a woman who was murdered downstairs on the second floor. One of the offices used to belong to a lawyer. According to the story, she was the secretary who worked in the law office. She got pregnant and at this point the story is not complete. Whatever happened, she supposedly ended up dead. The buildings owner has tried searching public records but has been unsuccessful in unearthing any names. Until we showed up and managed to catch a woman’s voice that plainly says, “Berta”. We haven’t been able to shed any more light onto the story other than that name. It’s interesting nonetheless.

I started the evening off feeling kind of like Cyndi Lauper. I just wanted to have a little fun. Then, before I knew what was happening, fate took over. I found myself being pushed along an almost preordained path to disasterville. I’m at the point now that the conductor has stopped asking for my ticket and has begun to ask when I plan on getting off his train. I’m still amazed, even after all these years, that I still find myself wondering, “How the did I get into this situation? “ It all started off innocently enough. A few friends and I have banded together to try and find answers to some of life’s mysteries.

If this seems a little confusing, good. Welcome to the club. Actually, what most of you probably aren’t aware of is that I am a …(oh lord, out of the closet I go)… a ghost hunter. I’ve been interested in the paranormal for as long as I can remember. What got me started was a book that I found at a school sponsored clothing and garage sale. I was in sixth grade and looking for trouble. It was a short book filled with short stories about local hauntings and legends. My fuse was lit.

As time went on, I began exploring what places I could get to on my own. Usually they were within biking distance of my hometown. Then when I got a car and a license, my world opened up.

From that point on, whenever the opportunity would present itself, my friends and I with the help of our maturing gonads, would venture out try to find someplace new that would scare the bejeezus out of us.

I’m now middle aged and still looking for my next paranormal fix. A few years back, we moved out to Indiana to be near to my wife’s family. I was now stuck in hillbilly hell and I found myself again, looking eye to eye with my old friend the conductor. I never noticed before how blood shot his eyes were.

But, once again fate intervened. This time in a good way. I managed to hook up with a group of folks who were interested in starting their own paranormal team. Together we’ve managed to build a really good group of people who work well together and are all driven by the same purpose. We like to annoy our spouses with our hobby. If you doubt me, ask any of our wives or husbands as the case may be.

Now to continue with the story. We had traveled north of my hometown of Noblesville, IN. to a small place called Converse. I wondered if there was any relationship between the town and the shoe, but no one it seemed, had a clue. You might be interested to know that on our way to the night’s investigation, we passed through a little town that has a, for the lack of a better term, a “dark” history. It seems that this little burgs’ claim to fame is that it was the birthplace of the KKK. This was precisely why we didn’t let Ted Danson join our team when he asked us.

Up until very recently, they still had signs warning certain people about certain consequences if they remained there past a certain time. I thought, “Gee, it’s a shame that a certain military, with a certain bomb, didn’t accidentally push a certain button as they passed through.” But anyway….

We finally made it to our destination. As I got out of the ghost buggy, I noticed there were more people than I’d expected. It seems that our host had accidentally booked two groups for the same night. But, not to be turned away, we all agreed to co-hunt and try to make the best of the situation. Sort of like two dominant lions trying to share one scrap of meat. This would be interesting.

We went about setting up our infra red cameras, motion detectors and voice recorders. It was a bit difficult because we had to make sure that everyone was aware of the locations of the cables and other equipment. That way we might be able to avoid any unfortunate and expensive accidents. Both groups seemed to be enjoying themselves and I decided to do a little snooping.

As we went through the building room by room, I would ask the other groups investigators what their thoughts were. What if any history they knew about this place. It seems that quite a few were absolutely convinced that there was a portal to the “other side” here in the building. It was upstairs in the center of the ballroom near the big chandelier. AND it was known to be haunted by a … ready? … A gargoyle!

I’m a natural skeptic and bullshit artist. This piqued my interest. I think I let my inner BS artist take over at this point and I questioned them some more.

Believe me, there was more.

Not only was there a resident gargoyle, there was it seemed an Elemental hiding here on the premises. For those unfamiliar with this term, an Elemental is a being who is made entirely of one of the four basic elements. Those being Earth, Air, Water or Fire. They are supposed to be very powerful and mischievous.

There are other interpretations but I wasn’t really too concerned with them. I liken them to dirty diapers that have come to life. Powerful and mischievous.

Anyway, we continued on and I was snapping pictures as we went. My friend and co-founder Dave, was walking ahead of me as we entered a room off of the main ballroom upstairs. He was antagonizing whatever spirits were present with off hand comments regarding their inability to show us their presence. Dave loves doing this. I kept thinking that one of these days we really will meet up with an ill-tempered spirit and ol’Dave is going to inadvertently cause an inter-dimensional incident.

I just hope I’m there to see it.

It wasn’t till we took a break that I stopped to check out all the photos I’d taken. That’s when I saw it. I’d taken numerous shots from behind Dave and hadn’t seen anything happen. But, right there in front my eyes was something that I couldn’t explain. There was a huge bolt of what looks like lightning coming out of nowhere and aimed right at his bald noggin! I’d also taken shots from virtually the same angle and position prior to this picture and there was nothing. Then all of a sudden wham! Right to the head.

Oddly enough, this occurred just as he was starting to antagonize whatever was there. Hmmmm…

We continued on after that trying to recreate the shot but couldn’t. I took lots of pictures after this and nothing happened. Then all of a sudden it happened again. This time it was in the ballroom near that chandelier. This was different. Instead of a single “bolt” of light I got what looks to be odd trails of luminous vapor. Most were pink in color but there were a couple that were yellowish.

I took these shots from an old stage prop wheelchair that was left upstairs. So each shot was taken from the same point just at different angles. To make matters even more strange, I was by myself for the better part of a half hour while this was happening. Occasionally, people from the other group would come in the room to take a brief look and then leave.

As I went through the shots I had taken, it seems that these light trails would stop whenever there was someone else in the room with me. When they left it would start up again.

I had become “The Light Whisperer”.

There was one shot however, of Chad, one of our investigators, while he was sitting in another prop wheelchair next to mine. There is what appears to be a ring of yellow light surrounding him. I teased him saying that “Most people get rings around their toilets or even their collars, but noooo, you gotta one up it!”

To make this all just a little more interesting, I should probably tell you about this room’s particular history. It seems that there was a group that called themselves the “Independent Order of Odd-Fellows” or “I.O.O.F.” for short. They were a group of men who were very interested in death and the hereafter. It seems that they performed a lot off rituals involving death rites and the transition to the afterlife. They were famous during their heyday for using gothic props such as swords, scimitars, or lances. They also enjoyed wearing dark robes with skulls affixed to them. One of my favorites was their initiation rite. A person was put into an actual used coffin for a set amount of time whereupon his exit he is reborn into the group. There was also the small matter of the coffins owner being present if in a somewhat understandably incapacitated state.

They did have their good points. The next time you’re out and about and passing an old cemetery, check out its name. You might see or have seen one called I.O.O.F Cemetery. These were started by our good friends the Odd Fellows. This was done for people who were unable to pay for their own funerals.

The night went on without much else happening. The other group left before we did so we managed to fit in a little time for ourselves. But the best part, for me at least, was seeing that shot of lightning aimed right at Dave’s head. Which is how he got his nick name, Ol’Zap-Head.

Our group, Indiana Paranormal Alliance, is alive and well and always on the prowl for a new place to check out.

So stay tuned for the next installment of “The Ghost Hustlers”.

The Ghost’s Voice -Berta

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