Greetings ghosts and ghouls. Before heading out to the arctic circle this week, I wanted to leave you with an inexplicable picture I took a few years back that will chill your bones.
But first, a macabre (and brief) history on Salem, MAss to frame the picture.
Back in the late 1600’s, Salem had a little boredom problem. I should say, specifically, the area around Salem (Salem Town, at the time) including Salem Village (now, Danvers, MA), Ipswich, and others. For simplicity’s sake, Salem is Salem.
Salemites were stringently
oppressed governed by the church —at the time, a Puritanical Calvinism —with a strict no dancing, singing, rapping, skin showing above the ankles, and no twerking, existence. Children weren’t even allowed to have dolls or toys, considered pagan relics above “God”, begetting such riveting games as ‘stare at the wall’, and ‘count the hours’, ‘walking’, and ‘rub grandpa’s feet’.
As we’ve learned throughout our limited “civilized” existence, when you oppress people, silence them, strip them of simple freedoms —said people will inevitably act out. And when the culture lacks logic, and/or scientific methodology, looking to superstitions and fairy tales for answers, weird shit happens. Case in point: the Salem Witch Trials.
Without going into the twisted weird history of the Witch trials, just take a look at the event timelines below:
February 25, 1692: Tituba, at the request of neighbor Mary Sibley, bakes a “witch cake” and feeds it to a dog. According to an English folk remedy, feeding a dog this kind of cake, which contained the urine of the afflicted, would counteract the spell put on Elizabeth and Abigail. The reason the cake is fed to a dog is because the dog is believed a “familiar” of the Devil.
Fido preferred deviled eggs over the urine cakes.
March 23, 1696: Salem Marshal Deputy Samuel Brabrook arrests four-year-old Dorothy Good…
… for being Dorothy Bad.
September 19, 1692: Sheriffs administer Peine Forte Et Dure (pressing) to Giles Cory after he refuses to enter a plea to the charges of witchcraft against him. After two days under the weight, Cory dies.
His mother was crushed.
September 1993 – Kirsty Alley plays Sarah Good. Co-stars have a problem with W’s, get the line ‘She’s a witch! Burn her!’ wrong on many occasions.
Whether you believe in energies, or haunting(s) of a place, there’s no doubt some bad voodoo resides in the Salem area.
Picture of a Ghost
Late one night, back in autumn of 2006, my ex-fiance and I were heading back to our B&B in Salem after a day of kitschy Halloween fun. Along our walk, we noticed a small, very old cemetery, with super creepy, moonlit gravestones. Naturally, we went against every horror movie rule and walked through the old iron wrought gates inside.
What happened next is something I still can’t explain to this day. I’m not a religious person, at all, and I’m fairly logical, but as we were walking towards the middle of the cemetery, the temperature dropped twenty degrees.
My skin broke out in goose-flesh, and my hair felt statically charged. My Ex, gripping my hand, whispered she couldn’t breath, and she felt like something was pushing her. She fled out the gate, without me.
I snapped off a quick pic with my Nikon before running after, and watched my battery go from full, to dead, instantaneously. I sloughed it off as some sort of glitch, and caught up with Ex.
We joked about the experience sipping Brandy in our room at the B&B, pretending to have English accents.
“Oooo it ’twas the ghost of Sarah Good.”
“To the stockackes with you, wench!”
We joked until I looked at the picture upon returning from the trip. (I did not doctor/or add anything to this photo).
We both saw “it”, peeking out of the ground in the lower right corner of the picture, just in front of a tombstone: a very strange torso wearing a suit/tie, mutton chops, shoulder height out of the ground. There are orbs everywhere in the frame, possibly bugs, or reflecting dust, but nothing in the composition to create/reflect back the distinct shape of a human.
There’s a discussion about patternicity here —seeing what one wants to see —but that night, something weird happened at Old Burial Point Cemetery in Salem. Somethings are best left unexplained – so I’ll just leave you to decide. What do you see?