Paranormal investigator discusses communing with the Great Beyond

" ... Found a third closet under the stairs."

"Really? Was Harry Potter in there?"

I look forward to these moments of levity after sitting at my desk, headphones on, eyes bleary from staring at a screen with footage from a surveillance system. Typically the camera has picked up little to no movement, and there are hours upon hours of footage to watch. But I can't look away, just in case. So I am grateful for the recorded audio distraction of a Harry Potter joke -- or even better, a voice from beyond the grave.

These are the moments in paranormal investigating that TV doesn't show you. After all, audiences don't want to watch someone watch 40 hours of uneventful video in real time. So it gets edited down to the evening's few exciting moments to air something presentable.

I try to explain this to the class every October during Ghost Hunting 101, which is conducted through Continuing Education at Southeast Missouri State University: Investigating, or "ghost hunting," can be fascinating, but it is not an action-packed hobby.

The investigation itself typically -- if any of this can be considered "typical" -- involves a quick walk-through of a location in good lighting to determine where to set up equipment to best capture reported activity. Setup then gets underway. This is where TV reflects reality: One person adjusts a camera while another sits and watches the monitor, using walkie-talkies (or yelling) to communicate what adjustments need to be made. Another person mills about taking temperature or other readings.

Once cameras and recorders are locked and loaded, we stake out a place and sit. Usually in the dark. For hours.

Of course, we do talk. Sometimes we converse to get the paranormal ball rolling. It has been my experience that if an intelligent spirit is around, it sometimes will take interest in what you and your friends are laughing about and join the conversation. But if you're one for instant gratification, you'll likely be disappointed: You may not know someone has joined the conversation until you're back home, listening to the recordings.

Process of elimination

That's not to say we do nothing. The point of investigating is to try to eliminate all scientific explanations for phenomena. If you eliminate all possibilities and still have no answer, then it's time start considering the paranormal.

LAURA SIMON ~ lsimon@semissourian.com

Every noise we aren't able to place, we have to investigate. For example: Hear the sound of dripping water? You have to find out where the faucets are, if any of them have been turned on recently (and if so, who turned them on), if any of them leak, what sound they make when they drip, and if that sound can be heard from where you were when you noticed the sound. No faucets nearby? The job gets tougher.

Occasionally, you'll think you have the mystery solved only to be proven wrong in the light of day.

One night at St. Louis' Lemp Mansion, we were in one of the rooms at the back of the house, and all of us heard a metallic clanging noise that seemed to be coming from the courtyard. I had heard it earlier, too, faintly, while in one of the front rooms. After eliminating a few possibilities and being skeptical of spookier ones, we finally agreed that even though it wasn't very windy, the noise likely was the rigging on a flag banging against a flagpole. Thirteen times.

LAURA SIMON ~ lsimon@semissourian.com

However, when we walked the neighborhood the following morning, there was not a flagpole to be seen within blocks. But one of the spooky possibilities reared its head again: Across the courtyard was the building that was once the mansion's carriage house. Could the metallic noise have been the residual noise of a blacksmith working a century ago? We'll never know.

Things aren't always that spooky, though. One night at the Harrison House in Cape Girardeau, the GH101 class was getting a big kick out of a toy one of our investigators brought for the night: the "paranormal puck." It kept saying the word "Thighmaster." I tried not to take it personally.

But in reviewing the audio recording, it was clear that it was actually saying "die zaster" -- mispronouncing the word "disaster." It made more sense, but was still a pretty big equipment flaw. That was the one and only time our group used the puck.

Then other times, you find that a sound came from a perfectly logical place, and it adds to the mystery.

During one GH101 class, as I was sitting quietly in the Schuck Music Recital Hall on the River Campus, I heard a soft, metallic clink. I explored the area, tried tapping on various things, shaking things, etc., unable to duplicate the noise. A while later, I headed backstage where we had stored some equipment. As the door started to close with my hand still on the handle, the metallic latch met the strike plate, re-creating the exact sound I had heard earlier. The problem: I could only re-create the noise when I was controlling how hard the weighted door fell. Left to close on its own, the latch closed too forcefully. But at the time I heard the noise while sitting in the audience, no one was touching the closed door, which was directly in my line of sight.

That same night, several of us -- unbeknownst to each other -- saw flashes of light in different areas of the recital hall. We only discovered our shared experience when several of us walking into the hall together all saw it happen again.

So we went to the monitor. We reviewed the video only to discover that up on stage, there was indeed a bright light as described by group members. We dutifully searched high and low for electronics on timers, emergency lights, outside sources or anything else that could have caused such phenomena. We never were able to determine a logical source for the light.

LAURA SIMON ~ lsimon@semissourian.com

As in any other scientific endeavor, once the data are collected, it has to be analyzed. Hence, me sitting in front of security footage with headphones on.

While the video I reviewed that afternoon didn't reveal anything out of the ordinary, I did get a couple of hits on audio: footsteps on the floor above, a giggle I was unable to attribute to anyone in the room. It may not sound like much, but when you discover an EVP (electronic voice phenomenon) or other shred of evidence, no matter now tiny, you truly feel like maybe you're on to something. And it makes you want to go back for more.

Thanks, Mom

Over the years, our investigations have taken many forms, and our group has grown and shrunk. My husband and I, my younger sister and a mutual friend of ours have been the group's core, with others coming and going as life allows. We have traveled to haunted locations out of town. Sometimes we've driven allegedly haunted country roads in the middle of the night. Sometimes we cover four locations in one night under the purview of Southeast.

But our humble group got its start thanks to my mother.

Her birthday fell on Halloween, and she always went all out. She also had a love of ghost stories, science fiction, anything creepy.

In the spring of 2008, she decided it was high time to do something she'd always wanted to do: stay overnight at St. Louis' famously haunted Lemp Mansion.

Now, I have been interested in ghost stories and such from a young age, no doubt thanks to her influence. So she had me at "Lemp."

We packed up our at that point meager collection of equipment and set out north. It was a creepy evening, with several personal experiences, but, unfortunately, no hard evidence.

But she must have had that feeling we were on to something. Only a month or two later, I got a call: "We're going to the Rose Bed Inn in June. Can you come?"

LAURA SIMON ~ lsimon@semissourian.com

My mom passed away later that summer. We didn't do many investigations after that for a while, but I finally decided continuing to explore the paranormal was a great way to honor her memory.

Sure, it's not the type of memorial most people are used to, but hey -- we're not most people. We're paranormal investigators.

Katherine Webster is a copy editor and social media specialist at the Southeast Missourian.

Pertinent address:

518 S. Fountain St., Cape Girardeau, MO

325 S. Spanish St., Cape Girardeau, MO

3322 DeMenil Place, St. Louis, MO

611 S. Sprigg St., Cape Girardeau, MO

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