Real Tales Of The Paranormal

 

This Real Tale Of The Paranormal has been reproduced with the expressed consent of Keith & Sandra Johnson, Founders of New England Anomalies Research www.nearparanormal.com. Keith Johnson is also a member of The Atlantic Paranormal Society (TAPS).

I would like to thank Keith & Sandra Johnson for allowing me to share this Real Tale Of The Paranormal.

The Episode We Never Saw, from Ghost Hunters - Part 1 (Keith Johnson)

The case actually originated during the first week of January 2004. Coincidentally, Sandra, myself, my brother Carl and Christopher Finch had just been investigating an alleged case of possession in RI, when we were contacted by our friends Bill and Nancy Washell of Maine Paranormal, to assist on a case possibly involving an inhuman entity, in Lewiston, Maine. (What a way to start out the New Year!)
It was late afternoon on January 3rd that Sandra, myself, Jill R. and Brian H. started out on the trip from Warwick, RI to Lewiston, ME. Unfortunately, Brian had suddenly and unexpectedly been hit by a feeling of fatigue and illness. In fact, by the time we set out, he was indeed looking quite green around the gills. But, he insisted on making the trip anyway, and asked me to drive his car.
Upon our arrival in Lewiston that evening some hours later, we found the roads to be completely iced over, making driving conditions extremely treacherous...not to mention that Brian's condition had progressively worsened along the way.
After stopping at several different locations, however, we finally arrived at the correct residence. Bill and Nancy Washell were already there, along with another member of their investigation team.
After greeting us, they introduced us to Leo and Marguerite, who from the start appeared to be a loveable, grandparent-type older couple, of French Canadian descent.
After the introductions had been made, myself and the three other TAPS members were seated, and served hunks of homemade peanut butter fudge and soda. (Brian, still feeling queasy, declined the refreshments with thanks.) Also present in the room was Lisa, the fiancée of Leo's and Marguerite's son Clifford. When Sandra had readied our video cam, the interview then commenced.
As had been previously told to us by Bill and Nancy, the family had first moved into this condo in Lewiston a little over two years ago. When they'd first moved in, however, they'd discovered various satanic-looking symbols and inscriptions painted on the walls of the basement, as well as on the walls of some of the upstairs rooms...particularly the room which their son Clifford always kept padlocked, so they informed us. "Why does he keep it padlocked?" I asked.
Lisa replied, "Well, Clifford feels that's where most of the evil spirits are in this house. And he's afraid that if we open up the room, they'll get out and do something terrible to us, probably kill us all."
"From what I've been told, some rather frightening things have already been happening," I commented.
Right after moving in, the family had painted over the satanic inscriptions on the upstairs and basement walls. It was shortly after this that they were informed by neighbors that a group of young guys, who were practicing members of a local satanic coven, had previously occupied their apartment, and that they'd been known to hold rituals there prior to being evicted. In fact, there was even a rumor that these cult members had robbed a grave of a French Canadian man from a local cemetery for ritualistic purposes, and then buried his remains underneath the basement!
It was also shortly after moving in, that Leo, Marguerite and the rest of the family began being met with one seemingly inexplicable mishap after another...almost as if a dark cloud of misfortune were following them everywhere they went. To make matters even worse, over the past several months Marguerite herself would periodically go into spates of a trance-like state, where her normally gentle personality seemed to be completely taken over by some sort of malicious entity. Supposedly, this is the spirit of the French Canadian gentleman whose remains were rumored to be buried in their basement.
"This is why we asked you guys to consult with us on this case," said Nancy. "Whenever this personality overtakes her, she certainly doesn't seem to be Marguerite. It really seems as though Marguerite temporarily leaves, and something completely alien to her takes over."
Bill interjected, "Nan and I have both been here to witness it when it happens to Marguerite. In fact, the last time, I was holding Marguerite's hand, and all of a sudden she started squeezing my hand with a strength I couldn't believe. I cried out and was practically sinking down to the floor on my knees...and you know I'm not exactly what you'd call a small guy!"
"And her eyes change, too; they get very dark and sinister looking," said Nancy. She then added, "Wait a minute, I just realized something. Marguerite, every time you're about to go under, you always take your glasses off. That's one sign that it's about to happen."
"Do I?" asked Marguerite. "I don't really seem to remember much of anything afterwards, I just seem to sort of blank out. I guess I'm not really possessed though, like in 'The Exorcist', because I'm not like that all the time."
"Well," I explained, "in most cases of actual possession, the afflicted individual is their normal self most of the time. The person usually only experiences temporary episodes of not being him or herself. Total possession is extremely rare; to my knowledge it almost never happens."
"Really?" asked Marguerite. "Well, when it happens, I usually have to have other people tell me what I did. I know that one time my sister was over here visiting and I guess I scared her out of here. They say I suddenly looked up at her with this real mean-looking face, and I growled at her. She didn't want to stay around me too long after that, so she high-tailed it outta here!" Marguerite chuckled, and we all shared a momentary laugh.
"And how often do these episodes happen to you, Marguerite?" I asked her.
"Well, for awhile it was happening to me at least two or three time a week," she replied. "But, it hasn't happened for about two weeks now, so I don't think it's gonna happen tonight."
"Now, to your knowledge has this place ever been blessed?" I asked.
"Yes, a few months ago", said Marguerite. "We called in our local priest, and he did a general blessing of the house."
"Did he bless every room in here?" I asked.
"Well, I'm not sure," said Marguerite. She asked her husband Leo, who wasn't sure either. She then added, "I know he couldn't get into that upstairs bedroom, which Clifford keeps locked all the time."
"Oh, I see," I said. "Well, is there anything you'd like to add?"
"Yes", said Marguerite. "It was a few weeks ago now, in the middle of the night while Leo and I were upstairs in bed, when all of a sudden we heard this big boom, or banging sound...so Leo turned over, and in the doorway, was what looked like a man, standin' there lookin' at him! And that's when I fell out of the bed, and banged my head when I fell. I wasn't seriously injured, but it sure shook me up!"
"What did this man you saw look like?" I asked Leo.
"Well, it was in the dark, so I couldn't really get a good look at his face or anything, explained Leo. "But, from what I could see, he sorta' looked like an Indian fella. That's how I'd describe him."
"Could you see if he was wearing buckskin?" I asked.
"Yes, I think he was," said Leo. "And his face was very dark. He just stood there lookin' in on me for a few seconds, and then he was gone. And I had to make sure Marguerite was alright."
Sandra asked, "Did you see him too, Marguerite?"
"No, I didn't see him, just Leo did", she replied. "I was too busy falling out th' bed!"
As our interview with the family concluded, I told them, "Now, I know that you've already had this house at least partially blessed...but Bill and Nancy have informed me that you'd like us to conduct a thorough blessing of your house. Is this still your desire?"
"Yes," Marguerite replied without hesitation. "Another one certainly couldn't hurt."
Leo replied affirmatively as well.
"Before we commence, I want you to understand that I'm not a member of the clergy, nor do I claim to be, " I explained to them.
"That doesn't matter, as long as you have faith," said Marguerite.
"We really appreciate it," added Leo.
"Good, I'll be glad to do it then," I said. Looking at my fellow investigators, I suggested, "Well, maybe we should start in the basement?"
"Sounds good to me," Brian agreed.
"How're you feeling, Bro'?" I asked him. "You sure you're up to this?"
"Oh, yeah...I'm sure feeling better than I was earlier," he replied.
Before we ventured downstairs, Marguerite briefly spoke to us about the beautiful, ornate statue of the Blessed Mother, encased in glass, which was displayed in her parlor. "It's temporarily on loan to us from the church," Maguerite explained.
"I was noticing how beautiful it is," Sandra commented. "I mean, it looks almost alive."
"Yeah doesn't it, though!" Nancy agreed.
Brian also indicated a framed picture which hung on the wall, which we passed by on our way to the basement. "See that, Keith? It's Padre Pio."
"Yes...he was quite a guy, very kind and loving to children," I said. "And a stigmatist, of course."
"Of course," said Brian. "He also had the ability to bio-locate. Padre Pio truly was a saint."
We then made our way downstairs as a group to the basement, with Marguerite, Leo and Lisa accompanying us. As Sandra was setting up the camcorder, Marguerite reminded us, "On the walls over there was where we found a lot of those symbols and strange writings, left over from those devil worshippers who lived here."
"We'll begin with an 'Our Father'," I announced to all who were present. "Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be Thy name..."
Throughout the prayers and supplications, Marguerite, who was standing over by the staircase with Leo and Lisa, devoutly held onto the Rosary beads which she'd brought with her.
After the recitation of prayers and the reading of selected Psalms and various other Scriptures, Brian and I proceeded to anoint the basement with blessed water and blessed oil. At certain key points throughout this anointing, Sandra would catch orbs shooting about on video...mostly when either "Jesus" or "the Holy Spirit" were mentioned.
Suddenly Marguerite began to react, becoming noticeably short of breath and stooping over. "Marguerite, what's wrong??" asked Nancy, naturally concerned for the older woman.
"I...I don't think I can...stay down here for this any longer," Marguerite replied. "I...I think I better go upstairs now."
"Is she going to be alright?" I asked. "Maybe we should discontinue."
"No, I-I'll be alright," Marguerite answered. "I just have to go upstairs, and sit down for awhile...that's all." Maguerite was then assisted up the basement stairs by her husband and Lisa.
Realizing they would let me know if there was an actual emergency, I concluded the blessing of the basement, assisted by Brian and Sandra.
Immediately after the blessing of the basement area was concluded, Sandra and I, along with Bill and his assistant, began comparing video evidence. "We were getting a multitude of orbs on digital and on video, too," said Bill. "We were getting them down here even before you guys arrived, but they really seemed to pick up while Keith was doing the blessing."
With the family upstairs, Bill's assistant Harold, who also had extensive construction experience, took this opportunity to inspect the area of the basement floor where the remains of the French Canadian gentleman were rumored to be deposited. Shaking his head, Harold commented, "From what I can see, it just doesn't seem as though there'd be any way a body could be buried underneath here. There'd simply be more evidence of a recent disruption in the floor, plus the area's just not big enough."
"I see," said Bill. "So, maybe it was just a rumor after all."
Suddenly, Nancy's voice called down to us from upstairs: "Keith! Keith, get up here quick, we need you!!"
Instantly I dashed upstairs, followed close behind by the others. "What is it?" I asked Nancy.
"Marguerite's starting to go under!" she said. "I wanted you to see this."
In the parlor Marguerite was seated in her favorite chair, her chin slumped upon her chest, screeching out something in French.
Immediately I asked Sandra to recommence videotaping, as I quickly switched my small audio recorder back on.
Nancy quickly reminded me, "Marguerite speaks almost entirely in French when this happens, which is her second language...although sometimes she uses some kind of garbled speech which we can't understand, that sounds like it could be Native American."
Nancy then rushed over and knelt beside Marguerite's chair. Handing Marguerite her cherished Rosary beads, she began telling her, "Marguerite...'Hail Mary'...'Hail Mary'..."
Uncharacteristically, Marguerite disdainfully flung the Rosary beads to the floor, as if the very touch of them was painful to her.
As Nancy had earlier pointed out, Marguerite removed her eyeglasses when she'd begin going under. Observing her physiognomy, I noticed that Marguerite's narrowed eyes did indeed appear very black and serpentine, and that her head continually swayed back and forth as she spoke...a look which I myself had seen before.
I glanced over at Sandra and caught her eye. She was still holding the camcorder- switching camera angles, as the situation became more intense. She was as always, the picture of calm. Still, I knew what she was thinking. This is as real as it gets.
Taking a seat on the right side of Marguerite, her husband Leo began acting as translator for her.
"What is your name?" asked Nancy.
Marguerite continued screeching and shouting, until Leo deliberately asked her in French.
"Edwaaaaard," Marguerite replied.
"Edward who?" Nancy asked through Leo.
"Pelletier," she said in a heavy French accent.
In my own rudimentary high school French, I asked her age. In French, she replied "Eighty."
"Why are you here?" asked Nancy. "What do you want, Edward? You need to speak English to us."
Marguerite responded, and Leo translated: "She don't know how to say it in English."
Hesitantly, as if with an effort, Marguerite said, "I-I...don't...know."
She then began loudly spouting in French again. As she spoke, Marguerite's breathing became increasingly labored, and she began to salivate profusely over her mouth and down her chin.
"Edward, did you live in Lewiston?" asked Nancy. "Are you from Lewiston?"
She slowly shook her head no.
"Where are you from?" Nancy asked again, and Leo translated.
"Canada," Marguerite replied.
"Where in Canada?"
"Montreal."
"Montreal?"
Marguerite slowly nodded, and began to cough.
"Ask him if he's sick," I said.
"Are you ill?'' asked Nancy.
Catching her breath, Marguerite emphatically replied, "Yes! Oui!"
"How did you get sick?" asked Nancy. "How did you get sick? What happened?"
Marguerite made no reply, but simply continued to breath in a labored fashion.
"What's wrong with you?" Nancy persisted.
"Ask him if he's alive," I suggested.
"Are you alive?" Nancy asked her.
"No. No!" she replied. (She again began to cough, as if suffering from lung disorder.)
"Why do you cough?" asked Nancy. "Why do you cough?"
When Marguerite did not answer, I decided to begin subtly leading the questioning into another direction. "Ask if he's on the other side," I said.
"Are you on the other side?" asked Nancy.
Marguerite hesitated before replying in French.
"She don't understand," said Leo.
"Where is your body?" asked Nancy. "Where is your earthly body?"
Marguerite motioned downward with her right hand, presumably indicating the basement.
"Ask him if he sees other people there," I said.
"Do you see others where you are?" asked Nancy. "Do you see other people?"
Marguerite slowly nodded.
"Yes? Who do you see?" asked Nancy. "Do you see your family?"
Marguerite coughed, then replied in French.
"She don't know that," Leo translated.
I then intentionally began to lead the line of questioning into religious provocation. "Ask him if he sees angels."
"Do you see angels?" (No reply.) "What do you see? Tell us, what do you see?"
Marguerite shook her head, and again began to cough.
"She don't know," said Leo.
"Edward, you don't have this affliction any longer," said Nancy, as Marguerite continued to cough. "You don't need to cough."
Addressing this personality directly, I asked. "Do you ever see Jesus?" (The coughing abruptly ceased.) "Is Jesus there with you on the other side?"
"No...no," Marguerite replied,
"Who's there?" asked Nancy.
Marguerite sighed, then replied in French, sounding increasingly distressed.
"Leave her alone," Leo translated. "Leave me alone, leave me alone."
Marguerite then began to loudly whimper, and writhe as if in pain.
"Edward, you need to move on," said Nancy. "You're hurting Marguerite, why are you doing this? What do you want?" (No reply.)
Now coming over to stand directly beside Nancy and Marguerite, I said, "Can you call upon the name of Jesus? Maybe Jesus will help you. Jesus shed His blood for the remission of sins." (Still no reply.) "We look to Jesus for the hope of the resurrection, and the life of the world to come. Jesus shed His blood for the remission of sins; the blood of Jesus, which was shed on Calvary. Jesus has the power to heal." (Marguerite gasps loudly, and again begins to writhe as if in pain, her teeth bared.) "Marguerite is a child of God. Marguerite is a child of Jesus."
Marguerite then strangely seemed to be quietly struggling to the say the name of Jesus, but could not quite get the word out. "Je...Je..uh-uh...Jes...deh...desus."
"How do you know Marguerite?" asked Nancy. "How do you know Marguerite? Where do you know her from?"
"In the name of Jesus Christ, where do you know Marguerite from?" I asked.
Without hesitation, Marguerite suddenly replied in a low, ominous tone: "I like her. I NEED her."
"In the name of Jesus Christ," I asked, "are you human? Are you a human spirit?"
"No," she softly replied. "No."
"In the name of Jesus Christ, what kind of a spirit are you?" I asked.
Marguerite then emitted a low, almost imperceptible laugh, seemingly more to herself than to us.
"Tell us," I persisted.
"THE DEVIL!!" she suddenly shrieked in a loud voice. "Deeeevil!"
Nancy turned to look at us in shock.
In a now husky and defiant tone, Marguerite began shouting at us in French, as her husband translated: "'Get the devil away from me! Get out of here!' That's what she's saying."
I then said, "The word of God according to the Psalmist: 'Touch not my prophets, nor do my anointed ones harm.'"

I turned to look at Brian. There was a hint of green to his pallor.
He was obviously still feeling somewhat ill, for whatever reason and seemed, somehow disconnected from what was occurring around him.
Jill remained seated beside him on the sofa. She looked from side to side, uncomfortably.
This was one of her first investigations. She was unprepared for this.
Sandra continued to videotape, holding the camcorder and shifting it's focus as the dialogue shifted from one person to the next.
"Marguerite is a child of God, and you cannot remain in her," I said.
Now enraged, she gave a deep-throated growl, followed by guttural gurgling sounds, while thrashing about in her chair.
"You realize this?" More gurgling sounds.
"In the name of Jesus how did you enter Marguerite?"
Coughing, she shook her head from side to side.
"In the name of Jesus Christ, answer," I commanded. "How did you enter?"
Marguerite began to protest, loudly in French. Leo tried to translate but couldn't keep up with her.
"In the name of Jesus, is your name really Edward?" No reply.
Nancy looked up at me from her position on the floor next to Marguerite's chair, questioningly.
"In the name of Jesus Christ, what is your name?" I tried again.
More French.
Leo translated, "She could give you all kinds of names."
"In the name of Jesus Christ, what name do you choose to go by?" I asked.
Although Marguerite did give some sort of a name, it was difficult to understand. At first she seemed to be saying "Mort" (meaning "Dead" in French). However, when I asked her to clarify, it sounded more to be a two-syllable name...possibly "Morell". She then began making loud, pathetic weeping sounds.
"You are suffering, aren't you?" I asked. "In the name of Jesus, why are you suffering?"
She replied in French, and Leo translated "You won't leave her alone."
"In the name of Jesus Christ, Marguerite is a child of God," I said. "In the name of Jesus, what do you want?"
She then launched into a verbal assault directed at me, screeching furiously in a mix of English and French. Her cursing was intermingled with enraged, animalistic growls and gurgling noises: "OW!! Leave me alone!" (Then in French): "Go to the Devil! Get the devil away from me!! GRRRRRRRR!! AAAAAAARRRRRR!! YEEEEEEEEEEECCCHHH!!"
Throughout this barrage, Nancy had continued to hold onto Marguerite's hand, in an effort to comfort her and maintain communication. At one point, however, Nancy's eyes suddenly widened and her mouth opened in pain, and Marguerite began tightening her hold on Nancy's hand in a vice-like grip.
Fortunately, I was able to momentarily distract Marguerite and quickly pry her fingers off in a matter of seconds.
Marguerite now began thrashing violently in her chair, growling and gnashing her teeth in frustration, as if somehow seemingly restrained by unseen bonds.
Looking up at me with tears of concern in his eyes for his wife of so many years, Leo said quietly, "She's been through enough."
"Yes," I agreed with him.
My heart went out with compassion for this older couple...especially for Leo, having to see his beloved partner in life reduced to such a bestial level. Although I sensed that the entity might have been weakening its grip on Marguerite, there was simply no way, under the present circumstances, that I could submit her to anymore of this humiliation. Placing my right hand gently on her shoulder, I said, "In the name of Jesus Christ, you may go down now. In the name of Jesus Christ, go down, until you are called forth again. Marguerite, be at peace. Marguerite, be at peace."
Marguerite's growling began tapering off as I spoke, replaced by a quiet whimpering. Her eyes closed, and with a sigh, her glistening chin slowly slumped down to her chest. When she again looked up and opened her eyes, they'd returned to their normal hazel hue.
However, when Marguerite's own personality had fully returned to us, she was anything but at peace. Sobbing, she now once again held onto her cherished Rosary beads, which Nancy had handed back to her. "Mary," she said though her tears. "'Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee...'"
Leo, Nancy and I all gathered around Marguerite in an effort to provide solace.

"'Blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen.'"
When Marguerite had finished her prayer, she held out her arms imploringly to the life-like statue of the Blessed Mother across the room, and called out though her tears: "Mary! I love you, Mary! I don't want to go with him, Mary! I don't want to go with that devil! Please, I don't want to go with him; I want to go with you!"
"You don't have to go with him, Marguerite," I tried to reassure her. "I swear, you never will."
"Mary...you can make miracles," said Marguerite. "That's why they brought you here. Take him away, Mary, take him away! Help me, please, Mary. Give me a sign that he won't come back!"
Over the next twenty minutes, Marguerite gradually regained her composure. There was some talk about her perhaps going to the nearest hospital because of the difficulty in breathing she'd experienced, although she and her family later decided this was unnecessary. During this time, her son Clifford also arrived home. He was a dark haired young man somewhere in his thirties, about average height, with a stocky build. When his girlfriend Lisa came over to join him, I introduced myself and the other TAPS investigators, and Harold of Maine Paranormal. (Clifford was, of course, already acquainted with Bill and Nancy.) We then briefed him in on what had just taken place during his absence.
Clifford seemed pleased, even delighted to have us there. When we'd finished our brief explanation of what had occurred over the past few hours, he commented, "Yeah, I heard you guys from Rhode Island were coming tonight; I was hoping you'd still be here when I got back." Glancing around at us, he then asked, "So, which one of you is psychic?"
Brian, Jill, Sandra and I all exchanged glances with each other, before Sandra replied, "Well, we're not really 'psychics' per se, if that's what you mean. We're basically just paranormal researchers."
"Oh, really?" asked Clifford. "I was hoping that at least one of you would be psychic, so I could get your impression of what's down in the basement. There used to be some kind of witches or Satanists that lived here before we did, 'cause we found all of these strange writings and drawings on the basement walls when we first moved in."
"Yes, so we've been informed," I said.
"Are you sure you didn't get any impressions down there?" asked Clifford. "Because we had a psychic over here before, and he got this impression that there's the body of some French Canadian guy named Edward buried in the basement, and that he's at unrest because his grave was robbed."
"And this is supposedly his spirit that takes over your mother's personality sometimes, correct?" I asked.
"Yeah...and I guess you guys got to see it happen to her tonight, from what you've told me, right?" he asked. "I was beginning to think no one would believe us, an' that everyone would think we were crazy! I know Bill and Nancy have seen it happen before, too."
"We certainly don't think you're crazy," I assured him. "As far as impressions go, I did get a very oppressive feeling while we were in the basement."
"Oh yeah?" asked Clifford, with anticipation in his voice.
"Yes, most definitely," I replied. "However, when I was questioning your mother while she was taken over by this personality, I used some religious provocation...and we found out that it might actually be an inhuman entity, which is masquerading as the spirit of someone named Edward."
"Oh-really??" asked Clifford in astonishment.
"From what she said, and the way that she reacted, we feel this may be a possibility," I told him. "But, what we'd like to do next tonight, is complete the blessing here. We've already done the basement. Is that alright with you?"
"Yeah...sure, fine with me," he said. "I'd really appreciate that. Maybe I'd be able to get some sleep here at night for a change!"
"Good," I said. "Now, I understand that there's a particular bedroom upstairs..."
"Oh yeah," said Clifford, shooting an apprehensive glance at me. "All except that bedroom. I keep that room locked. I haven't even been in it myself since right after we moved in."
"Why? What's in it?" asked Brian.
"Nothin'...nothin's in it," he quickly replied. "There's just...just somethin' evil in there. That's why I always keep it locked."
"Yes, but that's why we're here, to try to alleviate that situation," I explained. "I'd really need access to that room as well, to complete the entire blessing of the house."
"Clifford," Lisa interjected, "these people are here to help. They know what they're doing. Then you wouldn't have to worry about that room no more."
"Trust me," said Brian, "you letting us into that room so Keith can bless it wouldn't do any harm. Just the opposite, in fact. It would expel whatever negativity is in there."
The more we attempted to persuade him, however, the more emotionally agitated Clifford became...until it became apparent that he had a deep, personal psychological issue concerning that locked bedroom upstairs. "No...no," he said, his voice beginning to tremble. "I-I can't...not now, not tonight. Maybe someday, but, I'm just not ready to take that chance yet."
Seeing that we were not about to make any further progress in persuading Clifford, we decided to continue with the blessing of the rest of the family's residence. Before we set about this task, both Lisa and Leo insisted that we take a breather, and partake of more refreshments. During this time, Sandra informed me: "You know, while I was doing the video of you and Nancy with Marguerite, I noticed that there were occasionally some orbs shooting by. I don't think it was dust, because it seemed to be happening especially whenever you mentioned the name of Jesus Christ."
"Really? That sounds as though it could be significant," I commented.
After we'd completed a thorough blessing of the kitchen and the rest of the rooms, doors and windows in the downstairs area, all that remained was the staircase and the upstairs rooms...with the exception of the one bedroom which Clifford kept securely padlocked, of course.
Lisa volunteered to lead us through the upstairs area. As Lisa, Sandra, Jill, Brian and I slowly ascended the stairs, I recited a prayer for protection, while Brian followed up by anointing the stairwell with blessed water. Then, in each of the open rooms in the upstairs area, I recited the Lord's Prayer, followed by a reading of Psalm 23, as well as various prayers and petitions for our protection, as well as for the family living there. Brian followed by spraying blessed water in each corner of the room, while I anointed the doors and windows with blessed oil.
We then came to the padlocked bedroom door. After briefly examining the lock, Brian commented, "Well, there's obviously no way we're getting in there tonight."
"You're right," I agreed with him. "I suppose the best we can do is anoint the door itself."
Leaning close and cautiously whispering to us, Lisa said, "Clifford doesn't want anyone even touching the door. But, if he doesn't know..."
"What he doesn't know, won't hurt him," I said.
Brian suggested, "Maybe we can spray some holy water underneath the crack at the bottom of the door. That will at least get some in there."
"This is true," I said. While Sandra videotaped, I again led everyone in the Lord's Prayer...then followed by anointing the padlocked door with blessed oil in the form of a cross.
"Holy cow!" said Sandra, as she continued to videotape. "When you just did that, I could see two large orbs shoot out from underneath the door."
Brian then proceeded to spray a generous amount of holy water underneath the padlocked door...the premise being that hopefully, enough of the positive vibrations would permeate into the room to counteract whatever negativity the room harbored. (Privately, I could not help but wonder what Clifford's reaction would be, when he noticed the cross-shaped smear from the anointing oil which I'd left on the locked bedroom door!)
When we returned back downstairs, I announced to the family that the blessing of their residence was now complete. "Thank you so much," said Marguerite. "Somehow, it does feel more peaceful in here."
"Yes, thank you," said Leo. "We appreciate everything you've done for us."
Clifford asked, "So, are the spirits gone now? I remember the psychic we had here said there are at least two other spirits here, besides the one named Edward."
"I wouldn't say they're completely gone, but that they've been rendered inactive for the time being," I explained. "But I've also attempted to introduce positive vibrations into the rooms of this house to counteract the negative, through prayer and by anointing the rooms with blessed water and blessed oil. I've also said special prayer outside of the locked bedroom, that the Holy Spirit will enter and keep everyone safe from harm."
Sandra added, "Through your faith and by maintaining a positive attitude, I believe you'll be able to keep whatever negative spirits that may be here at bay. We've also prayed for angelic protection over everyone who lives here."
"God bless you for that," said Marguerite. Clifford also appeared to be at least somewhat relieved.
As we were conferring with the members of Maine Paranormal over our findings and theirs, Bill told us, "I think there's something you may want to see. This digital snapshot was taken by me while you guys were in there blessing the kitchen area. Take a look at this large aquamarine colored orb which appeared on the back of Sandra's neck."
Sure enough, there in the digital snapshot of Sandra and myself, with Sandra's back inclined toward the camera, was a large bluish-green cylindrical shape on the nape of her neck.
Sandra gasped, "I don't like the look of that."
"Did you feel anything at the time, like maybe a tingling sensation on the back of your neck?" I asked.
"No, not at all," she replied.
Bill added, "It looks as though it's riding piggy-back on her!"
"It sure does," I agreed. I then explained the possible significance, "The nape of the neck is sometimes considered to be an entry point for demonic spirits. But there is no cause for alarm; since Sandra didn't feel anything at the time, it obviously didn't enter. It seems more to have been probing her for weakness it didn't find. Wasn't this soon after Marguerite had come out of her state of possession?"
"You're right, it was right afterwards!" Sandra recollected.
"I've been in situations where the demonic was involved, where a demonic possession was involved, where the spirit was systematically probing other individuals in the room at this exact spot...including Carl. They actually felt a tingling sensation but it wasn't able enter. To be on the safe side, I thing I'd better anoint you with some oil."
"Yes, I'd very much appreciate that," said Sandra.
I anointed the back of Sandra's neck with oil and recited a brief prayer of protection for her.
She met my gaze and smiled, "Thank you, I do feel safer now."
Once again, the family expressed their heartfelt gratitude to us. Bill and Nancy of Maine Paranormal also thanked us for driving the distance to Lewiston on this icy, early January night to confer with them on their investigation.
"If there are any updates in the situation," Bill told us, "we'll be sure to get in touch with you and let you know. Thanks again for everything, guys!"
Before leaving, I took the precaution of performing a general blessing upon everyone involved.
During the return trip to Rhode Island, Sandra offered to take the first shift driving Brian's car (also affectionately dubbed the "Bro'-mobile"), while Brian himself passed out in the back seat next to Jill.
"Thank you again for anointing the back of my neck with the blessed oil," Sandra told me. "It's somewhat disturbing to think something may have been searching for weakness in one of the two known points of entry for the demonic. Glad it didn't find any."
She turned around to look at Brian and smiled, "So, what's our next case, Bro'?"
In the back seat Brian grunted and shifted position so that his head was in Jill's lap but didn't answer.
Jill looked at him and rolled her eyes, "So what will happen to the family, now?"
Knowing this was all somewhat new territory for her, I tried to explain, "What I attempted to do, in this case, was to move the existing negativity into a dormant state. In other words, I put it down- I did not drive it out. It's the best we could do with the limited time we had. I have a feeling we will be returning to Lewiston."