Hey there! I have finally edited a few new additions to the series “Spooky North Carolina” and I am finally ready to release a few. Okay, post a few. Who do I think I am?
Anyway, this episode we are down in the most haunted city in America, Savannah Georgia. The first stop is to a beautiful place which has some of the most iconic statues that are recognizable throughout the world, the Bonaventure Cemetery. The most notable of the statues is Gracie, a little girl who died of pneumonia back in the 1800’s. It’s a weird thing but it’s the only grave that is gated because so many people visited her spot after witnessing the statue crying tears from people remove the coins and trinkets left behind. That’s kind of heartbreaking. You can’t help but wanna give her a hug. So, like the sign says, I left a few coins because that’s her thing. A ghost that is a coin collector? Sure!
Enjoy this short episode. I am sorry the audio is weak. I need to learn to speak up and not be bashful when there are people around. I have a duty to you!
I am no stranger to the restaurant, Moon River Brewing Company, located on E. Bay street down by the Savannah River. It’s a place that I will always visit when in town, even if it’s just to get an Apparition ale to-go. (You can get beer to-go and drink it on the street while…shopping.) But usually I stick around for a while to enjoy the company of the living. AND THE DEAD!
Was that too cheesy? That was too cheesy, wasn’t it? That was too cheesy.
This trip, however, was a little different from most because not only did I come for another Apparition ale but I was on a mission to include this place and others in the Halloween countdown series, “Spooky North Carolina”. I know, I know, I know… it’s a different state, but when it comes to material that’s close to a beach and great beer, we can all make an exception, don’t you think?
I was hoping to capture the feel of this place by shooting a video mixed with spooky background music and clips from Poltergeist. Not that I am lazy, but I didn’t plan on making anything out of this trip other than a few videos without commentary. Boy was I pleasantly surprised to get the invite and go where few people can, thanks to the sweet staff of the Moon River.
It’s a spooky place whether you believe the stories or not. Just about every person who works there has had an experience so just in numbers, it’s really hard to argue that this is only a rickety old building. There are documented duels, murder, madness, plague and the hundreds who died on this property, so it’s a wacky place.
In this episode, we start in the basement and end up in the attic, which is way more than I expected to get and am very grateful to the staff for the fun addition. There are some scenes from the show Ghost Adventures that airs on the Travel Channel because they did one Hell of a job capturing the feel of the darker areas. It helps guide you to where we were and why.
I also need to give thanks to the awesome girl who held the camera for me. It must have been a weird proposition but that’s why I am in sales. A.B.C.!
Back in the early nineties I saw a made for TV movie that creeped me out so bad I didn’t sleep for a year and even today as an adult, scenes from that silly dramatization of supposed true events still gives me the shivers. Thanks for the nightmares, Sally Kirkland, you sexy high-pant wearing beauty.
This little gem from 1991 is based on a true story about an ordinary family that has to deal with extraordinary events. With an over abundance of paranormal movies, Discovery Channel documentaries and ghost hunting shows today, it’s easy to pass this movie off as lame and outdated but it couldn’t be furthest from. This has some genuinely creepy scenes that will raise the hairs on the back of your neck. So let me tell you in 3,000 words what it’s about. If you don’t want to read it let me sum it up: evil spirits in a house and Sally Kirkland chain smokes.
I love films that begin with a quick blurb explaining how it’s more than just ghost story but a well documented true story. Very “Texas Chainsaw Massacre” in the way it sets up the film and provides a creepy atmosphere. Shit, this movie could be about growing carrots and if it started this way, I would turn on the closet light.
Starring the great Sally Kirkland as Janet Smurl, we begin the story as the family moves into a duplex in West Pittson, Pennsylvania and the future looks bright. With two kids and their parents living in the other side of the duplex, this is a happy family and they quickly became active members in the community and their Catholic church. But there are strange happenings afoot and soon they will be in a battle with forces from the beyond.
Holy cats! I completely forgot that Jeffery DeMunn (Dale from The Walking Dead) was Jack Smurl and his personality is the exact same. I venture to guess that Jeffery is the same person as the characters he portrays. It seems that most male roles in a haunted house story are pretty similar; the guy doesn’t believe it, forced to finally confront the situation and then tries to throw a rock at a ghost. Keep reading.
Little things start to happen as they settle in and begin to renovate the house like tools disappearing and then reappearing, stains on the walls that bleed through the paint even though they had put thirty coats on it already, scotch tape found in the fridge, toaster fires, ect… Over all, not malicious but more mischievous in nature and just enough to have them believing they might be a little nuts. The proverbial shit doesn’t hit the fan until years later. Years later and male rape. What?
Now, this whole story is told in first person by Janet (Sally Kirkland) and as bizarre events begin to happen she is the only one who notices. Things come to a head when she is doing laundry in the basement. It is, in my book, one of the creepiest scenes that I can think of. While she is doing laundry her mother from next door calls her from the top of the stairs. Well, she thinks it’s her mother. As she responds and walks upstairs the same mimic-ed voice calls her name again. FROM BEHIND HER!
When she ran upstairs and to the other side of the duplex she was met by her mother and pissed off father, believing they overheard Janet and Jack sharing extreme profanity. Confused, Janet explained her husband is at work and she could not have possibly heard them talking.
I don’t know why, but that whole scene gives me the chills. It’s the little things that get me.
This is when Janet begins to fall apart and the stock for Virginia Slims skyrocketed. Her husband can’t understand why she looks like a victim in an episode of “Cops: Crazy Bitches of the Midwest” and her requests to move because of ghosts were met with a “no way, José”. She was alone with some pretty spooky happenings. But, the rest of the family was about to join the party.
Soon the malicious spirit gets bored enough with Janet to start picking on her mom. When they both acknowledge that a pig-snorting vaporous black mass has been hanging out in their living rooms, a sense of relief comes over Janet. That’s good news but the tough sell will be the husbands. The men are always the problem, am I right girls?
Janet needs not to worry because one of the…the…you know what? I am just going to get say it. Jack gets raped by the demon. I am serious. It’s a male rape scene that defies my understanding of mechanics. If he wasn’t into it, I don’t think it would have happened. Especially the morphing fat-girl trick the demon seemed to pull on him. Jack might have issues.
At their wits end, Janet and Jack finally seek help through the church and invites their local pastor to come bless their house. Much like Amityville Horror, the priest gets a brutal brush with the devil and he quickly decides that being a complete pussy is the answer. He leaves and later when asked to return he pretends to be a Walmart greeter.
With little help and their family under attack, Janet seeks out demonologists to investigate their problems. Which is pretty funny because all they did was confirm that they have a problem with ghosts. Another day and another paycheck in the life of a demonologist, I suppose.
With screams and flashing lights, cabinet doors slamming and beds flipping, the family needed a break. They went camping. No shit, they are facing extreme life threatening circumstances from unseen evil forces but taking a break to make s’mores and sing songs by the campfire seemed like the right thing to do.
You know what? Ghosts like to go camping too! While they are enjoying their fire and NOT TELLING GHOST STORIES an unexpected guest floats up. Jack did the only thing he could.
Jack threatens to throw a rock at the specter. I guess shit always seems to happen when you don’t have a proton pack, right? Rocks are the logical second choice.
Meanwhile, the scene cuts to their house going bat-shit crazy and the neighbors seem concern. I don’t know why, but that also sticks in my mind from years ago and has severely creeped me out. Something about a house that’s suppose to be vacant and…not? I don’t know. It’s a me thing.
Finally they get a priest to exorcise the house. Not really sure why they didn’t do this to begin with but then again, this would be a short movie. And it seemed to work! For a while.
Actually, it didn’t do anything but make it worse. With no other option and already Jack raped, it was time to go to the media. Because when you go to the press saying you have ghosts, what’s the worst thing that can happen?
Yeah, you turn into a pariah. I don’t know why they decided to do that but long story short, it wasn’t the ghosts who finally drove them from their home but the constant harassment from media and ghost enthusiasts. They moved and yet again there was hope that life would return to normal sans the evil entities.
We end the movie with the family leaving their town and the house that was built on satanic worshipping ground. They move into a non-haunted house this time and everyone seems to be just swell. And then…
The damn ghost follows them and pulls the ol’ “pretend to be mom” move that creeped me out from before. We fade to black as Sally Kirkland stares in disbelief and sounds of pig growls lead us to believe that they are forever screwed might as well get used to having an invisible father-raping ghost that hides scotch tape in the fridge.
I know this was a terrible review of a surprisingly good made for TV movie from the early nineties. It has some genuinely creepy scenes that will stay in your head especially when you have to pee at 3am. It’s late and I finally am not concerned about letting people know about The Haunted. The whole movie is available on YouTube so I highly recommend giving it a whirl. You’ll lurv it.
Sometimes you just have to get out-of-town and if there is a opportunity to mix a getaway with a business trip, I say do it. Fortunately for me my adventures have brought me back to an old haunt, so to speak. You may remember last year’s trip to Savannah when I took a look at some supposed haunted pubs that I knew of and managed to knock out some power lunges for the un-rested dead. This year was pretty much the same but it was a solo trip that included a bit more nightlife and a stay in a haunted room. Let’s recap my trip to one of the weirder places in these great fifty states!
I pulled into town late morning and wasted no time finding a parking deck because if you forget where you parked on the street and the meter lapses, expect a $100 ticket. This is a tourist city and they thrive on idiot dollars. The ticket clerk was nice enough to provide me with a map of the city, where to find college girls and drew boobs to show the places to most likely find them. All of this information was voluntarily provided. I just smiled and nodded. That was the first creepy event of the day.
There was still a few hours before my check-in time at the hotel so wasting no time, I headed back to the Moon River Brewing Company for an early lunch and hopefully a seasonal beer or two to make my Uncle Nat jealous. You may have remembered this place from last year.
This is their famous “Apparition Ale” and holy macaroni is it good! I get it almost every time I come here and this year is no different. It’s a bit hoppy but overall not offensive to any of the senses and most would agree, this beer has to be guzzled in a place renown for it’s haunted prowess. In fact, like a typical tourist with no sense of shame for asking, I questioned the bartender if anything spooky happened lately and she proceeded to rattle off at least ten events over the course of a couple of weeks that left her shook up enough to never go to the basement or upstairs office without someone else. One event involved something four feet tall in a top hat showing up behind people. If I saw something that is four feet tall in a top hat, I would punch it. I would punch it so hard. I don’t do short creepy things.
So after a couple glasses of courage and some really awesome crab cakes, I once again ventured back down to the basement where numerous people have not only seen but have supposedly been attacked by a…thing. Without company, I went alone to say hi and snap some pictures. Luckily for me I have an app on the phone for a timer and a stool so I was able to once again do this. Albeit a little quicker.
I am not really sure why this is becoming a Moon River tradition for me but when I am down in the basement where people have died and an evil presence dwells, I feel like the gift of physical fitness is the only thing I can offer. I didn’t get choked or possessed so perhaps it is appreciated. But most likely, if there is something we can’t explain in this cellar, they probably just feel bad for me.
Just before I said goodbye to the Moon River Brewing company I needed to make a pit stop at the restroom and was greeted by a four-year old pooping in the urinal. I can hold it. Off to River street!
Savannah is older that just about any English settled city in America and much of the structures and streets are just as they were almost three hundred years ago. To get from the Main street down to River Street much of the way down looks like this. Never mind the Exorcist stairs, try getting down these after a night of boozing at the club. I am almost positive that people have died on these but this town is so macabre, it probably went unnoticed.
Somehow I always end up back at the Pirate House. Even though we have a special history, I have to say that this place officially sucks. I chalk it up to a Disney restaurant on the outskirts of the park. It’s gimmicky, the staff (at least the ones who served me the last two visits) are rude, the food is laughably overpriced while it tastes like something pirates would eat, the historic atmosphere is plagued with campy pirate shit and most of all, the part that makes this place cool is completely covered up! You would never guess that a tunnel runs directly under you that led hundreds of unsuspecting travelers to their doom. Nope! But you can get the kids eye patches with their kid’s meals. I hope Black Beard hammer punches someone in the nose for what they did to this place. arrr…
After that disappointing trip to the Pirate House it was time to check in and boy was I looking forward to this, for this was no ordinary room. This room is said to be haunted and was investigated by numerous paranormal groups over the years and I just happened to get a last-minute reservation for…way too much. I’ll just say that. But no matter, this blog needs better material and I am willing to battle the forces of the dead to do so. See? I do care.
As I was checking it, the room checker-inner advised me to stop by the consioure desk for a brief history of the room and a guest waiver. I kid you not, I had to sign a waiver before going up to the room! Whether it was a gimmick or not, I will tell you I got a bit nervous signing a waiver to sleep alone in a hotel room. And that’s when I was told why they think the room is haunted and so many leave to either switch rooms or check-out totally. Here is the conversation. By the way, the conseour guy’s name is Scott. I am tired for misspelling consiourre. I think there is a ‘g’ in it.
Scott: “All we ask is that you are respectful to any of our guests that may be present, whether they are seen or unseen. There has never been anyone hurt though many have been frightened by occurrences like noises or things moving. If you decide to leave for reasons of this nature you will receive a full refund. Just sign here noting that I have explained this to you and you understand.”
Me: “Why do people think this room is haunted”
Scott: “Because it is. The cleaning staff will only clean the room with the door open and usually it is two people cleaning it.”
Me: “What happened in the room?”
Scott: “In 2006 a gentleman took his life in the room. People have reported incidences since.”
Me: “2006?!?!?”
That immediately sucked all the excitement and wonder out of me. 2006? This is more of a tragedy than a hokey night stay in a place where some folklore was said to have taken place. Also keep in mind that there was no expression in Scott’s tone. He was friendly but very matter-of-fact. I kind of believed him.
Here it is. It’s a pretty small room that is far from special and very much over priced. I couldn’t tell if it was the waiver that I had just signed or Scott’s “serious” face but this room was deafeningly quiet. I don’t know if there is a trapped and tormented soul from beyond there but the area was so small, I couldn’t help but think that it could only be feet away.
It was oppressively sad and I am sure it was all in my head but you just can’t help but feel bad. I really wished I didn’t ask and carried on the idea that some civil war soldier still occasionally camped there. I turned on the TV, took a shower and changed clothes, all will eyes and ears open, maybe wanting to experience something but also hoping not. I needed to get out for a bit so I headed out. I left the TV on. Hopefully the ghosts like Everybody Loves Raymond as much as I do.
Back on the bustling streets of Savannah I felt a little better. I mean, I was taking pictures of a dog in sunglasses so obviously I was in a better place. I did, however, accidentally tip that guy a five dollar bill in the dog’s water dish by mistake. Oh well, it spends that same.
And this place, ladies and gentlemen, is where I spent the majority of my night. The Crypt Pub is a horror bar during the evening hours and some kind of vampire dance club after midnight. Luckily, I am a guy who is long gone by the time that transition happens. But until then, it was a blast with great people and interesting drinks.
The whole bar had those changing portraits that look innocent enough until they morph into some hideous beast. I love them. The walls are blood-red and everywhere you turn there are skeletons posed as patrons or bats swinging from the rafters. This is not a Halloween themed bar but rather a good taste of the strange and spooky Savannah. I can’t think of another city where this kind of bar would survive. And the drinks?
This is a “Frankenberry” and it is glorious. It does taste like Frankenberry cereal but that isn’t why I love it. I love it because I am still a twelve-year-old in a thirty-four year old’s body. It has dry ice and looks like something that the Munster’s would serve. Brilliant and I bought at least three…that I can remember. Look at it in action!
Everyone seemed to be in great spirits that night. No matter where I go I always seem to make a couple of friends. The couple next to me were doctors from Michigan for the same conference I was there for. Although it seemed a bit strange that cardiologists were in a macabre bar, I took it at face value that Savannah can cast a spell on even the most high in stature. We toasted our foggy drinks to health and fun. Then I watched more horror portraits.
The staff was a lot of fun, too. Shut up.
As the night wore on I decided to say my goodbyes and head out to the crazy bustling streets and try one more bar before going back to the infamous room. It was an English pub that I had visited before and I really wanted to catch the second half of the UGA game so I grabbed a seat at the bar and got into a great discussion with a really cool bartender over pumpkin ale. We all watched the win and pretty soon other people joined the bar including a bunch of frat-looking guys around my age. And wouldn’t you know it, one of them grew up in the same neighborhood my parents live at? What are the odds? The night was going great and I was having a great time until…
That scene actually happened to me. These gentlemen were cool, MARRIED, guys who tell their wives that it’s guys night out and in less than a second they went from high-five football gurus to people wanting to go to the bathroom to do…well…you can assume. I don’t know what’s more shocking; the 180 degree shift in demeanor or the candor in which they assumed I would be okay with that. Now don’t get me wrong, some of my closest friends are gay and I love them to death but they would never come on to me that way. For a brief second I could understand how chicks at a bar feel. Emasculated, I paid my tab and headed for the room. But not before stopping one more place when I was waved down by my bartender friends for a beer. That made me feel a little better.
Soon it was time to depart because I am an old man and 1:30am is like a young man’s 5am. I can’t believe I paid so much for a room that I dreaded all night to come back to. It was an ever presence in my mind and soon it was time to face what I asked for. I am glad for tipsiness because no matter how freaky something could get, nothing was keeping me up long with four bubbly rum drinks in my bloodstream.
Did anything happen that night? I don’t know. Sure there were times when I thought the facet was on or something moved but really, besides the ice machine dumping causing me to do practically the same, I can honestly say it was uneventful. Had this been a popular haunt with historic significance, I probably would have approached it differently and been disappointed that nothing happened. But this felt wrong. I felt like I was as guilty of exploiting this guy’s death as much as the hotel. For whatever reason, I hope he isn’t stuck there. It’s a pretty dull room and there is no AMC channel. Double farts.
So who knows if all these paranormal things are real? It seems that there are plenty of reality ghost hunting shows to say otherwise but it is kind of funny to think they all might be one big snipe hunt. Someday, I am sure we will find out. Until then, I’ll watch Poltergeist and think, “wouldn’t that be cool?”.
Oh, Christmas traditions are a funny thing, eh? We put a dead tree in the living room and wrap it in electric wires, hang socks over a fireplace, drink booze at work parties, exchange gifts we know people will either give away the next year or return, wear sweaters that would make a crazy old lady wince, bribe our kids with gifts if they are good and use a made-up fat guy as leverage, and listen to music that we love until December 26th then completely hate. And all this has to do, somehow, with the Son of God being born in a barn. Trying to explain this holiday to an extraterrestrial would be difficult if not slightly embarrassing but if we compare our traditions with that of other countries, we may come off as silly but at least we aren’t creepy and sadistic. Let me shed some light on a few traditions other countries have on this holiday of holly jolly.
Let’s start with the Scandinavians. Apparently it’s bad news to go out the night of Christmas Eve because this is the night when trolls, goblins, witches and ghost are said to roam the land and before dawn they are the craziest. To venture out means certain death so pray there isn’t a late night run to the local mart for more cheese and beer.
The Swedes take it a step further by actually setting a table with a huge feast for dead relatives to return from the grave and party all night. The (living) family members close off the room, go to bed and not dare return until morning. They observe any signs that there was a ghostly gathering the morning of Christmas and I guess…open presents? No idea.
In Wales, it’s said dogs that howl during the night on Christmas Eve will go mad by years end. They also make a point to keep a candle lit through Christmas day and if it should go out means there will be a death in the house soon. Oh! Also if you cast a shadow on the wall and it appears headless you are totally fucked. I’m not making these up.
Another odd Netherlands tradition or folklore is to clean all of your Christmas decorations by February second and if you are late or leave behind any needles from wreaths or a tree, that is how many spirits and demons you will have for the rest of the year. This folklore I happen to like because seeing neighbors with Christmas decorations up any longer than a month after December should result in at least a curse.
Here is my personal favorite and it hails from Austria. I am not sure how cute elves were brought about as St. Nick’s assistant because the origin of Santa has a demon named Krampus helping him out. Yeah, a demon who tags along with him to handle the “naughty” list. Did I mention he is a rape demon too? Apparently he is described as an incubus that preys on sleeping people and follows around St. Nick delivering beatings to bad kids and the really bad ones go with Krampus down to Hell. This reward to punishment ratio seems a little bit one sided. If you are good you get a bunch of candy in your shoe. Bad, you get raped, beaten and dragged to Hell.
Casserole of Disaster 
