One writer’s real life experience on a professional ghost hunt
The Windham is said to be haunted. Employees report seeing cutlery and dishes moved around and feeling something playing with their hair. Photo by Leo Monfet.
Let me start off by saying I am afraid of ghosts. So when I was asked to join in on a hunt for some, I was speechless. I know it seems absurd, but it wasn’t what I had in mind when I suggested doing a story on the New England Ghost Project, a group founded by Dracut resident Ron Kolek that investigates paranormal activity in the Merrimack Valley and beyond.
But I accepted. After all, how could I turn down such a great opportunity? While I waited for a hunt date, I enlisted the protection of a good and cynical friend, who would serve as bodyguard against evil spirits. Then I received the call. We’d be going to The Windham, a 19th century Colonial-turned-restaurant in Windham, long reported to be haunted. The group would be broadcasting its weekly radio show to an Internet audience of ghost enthusiasts and contacting the spirits they believe haunt the 200-year-old building.
It would happen on Friday, the 13th. The radio show would start at 10 p.m. The real fun would begin at midnight. That night, thunderstorms threatened the skies. Driving down I-495, the dashboard lights in my car blew out. I was already petrified.
When we walk into the restaurant a little after 10, the place is hopping. People crowd the bar. Waiters and waitresses bustle about. This won’t be so bad, I think to myself. Ironically I feel somewhat disappointed. When we ask for the New England Ghost Project, we are pointed upstairs. “They’re up there somewhere,” the waiter says casually. That’s when we meet Clay Rucker and Kolek’s son, who serve as the group’s designated techies. They are setting up base camp on the second floor.
They have come armed with infrared cameras, electromagnetic field meters, temperature gauges, and video cameras. Then there are the pendulums and holy water—all standard fare for the group’s investigations. But tonight, there is something new. A Van de Graff meter, which will send electromagnetic energy into the air to amplify any paranormal activity, sits atop a table in an empty dining room across the hall.
“I’m kind of a doting disbeliever,” says Rucker, an engineer by day, whose wife Janet, a librarian by trade, is lead researcher for the group. “To me, it’s all about the science.”
Both men have had a longtime fascination with ghosts, and Kolek’s son, who asked not to be named, seems unfazed by the suggestion that some people don’t believe this is all real. “For the believer, no proof is necessary. For the skeptic, no proof is enough,” he says.
Upstairs in an attic room, Kolek and partner Maureen Wood, a medium who says she can communicate with spirits, sit in front of a computer and microphone and tell whoever’s listening on the Web about the ghosts who haunt the Windham. There’s Jacob, a man in a blue suit who is incessantly looking for his things; a little boy named William who plays with a little girl; and a lady who haunts the bar area. While on the air, a new spirit that Maureen has felt this night for the first time visits her. (Owners and workers have corroborated evidence of paranormal activity.)
For two hours, the pair—joined by other members of the group, including Kolek’s wife Jan and Project photographer Leo Monfet—talks about ghosts, complete with comic tête-à-têtes and entertaining banter. “I know we joke around a lot, but sometimes we have to because things get crazy,” says Wood, who does technical work for a living.
At midnight, they sign off and Kolek jokingly tells Wood they are ready to “spark her up” with the Van de Graff. The restaurant is now deserted. Wood, who tells us that she inherited her abilities and has sensed spirits since she was a child, joined the Project about five years ago, after answering Kolek’s ad for a psychic.
“I never believed in psychics at all,” says Kolek, who started the group in 1998 after a series of strange experiences. “I thought they were all charlatans.”
“Maureen’s the real deal,” says Jan, shaking her head knowingly.
To date, the Project has performed nearly 200 investigations, all for free. They’ve attended exorcisms by the Catholic Church and have investigated government buildings, cemeteries, private homes, and forts.
“It’s nothing I really wanted to do,” says Kolek. “But now it’s like a calling to me. And you want to help people, and we do.”
Many spirits, Kolek says, haunt the Merrimack Valley. A ghost who fancies himself a Southern gentleman and calls himself General Beauregard frequents an undisclosed location in Haverhill. At the 1859 House in Methuen, a murdered man haunts the tavern. The Tenney Gate House, home to the Methuen Historical Society, is the apparent resting place for a monk and a woman. And Kolek contends that at the Old Hill Burying Ground in Newburyport, he has been slimed, not Dr. Peter Venkman-style in Ghostbusters, either.
“My forearm from my elbow to my wrist was covered with a black, oozing gook that burned,” describes Kolek, who has a degree in environmental science.
But tonight we’re looking for Jacob.
Here, the ghost of William can be seen in the first shot, and then we see him turning into light and leaving the room in the second shot, taken just one minute later. Photo by Leo Monfet.
.
A brief encounter with the ghost happens in the dining room near the Van de Graff. When Wood recovers from the trance-like encounter, she says, “That lady, I think she’s down in the hallway.” So down we go.
“Do you want to talk to us?” asks Kolek, his electromagnetic field meter (EMF) reader blinking and beeping, a sign that a spirit is near. We crowd the doorway, watching.
“Yes. But Jacob doesn’t want her to,” says Wood, who adds that she feels William and the little girl, but Jacob doesn’t want them to come down. And he doesn’t want them talking.
“A lot of times you have dominant spirits in the house,” Kolek explains.
Then come the words I am dreading. Wood wants to go to the basement.
The ceilings are low and draped with cobwebs. Insulation sticks out from exposed ducts and plays tricks on my mind. The red light on Ron’s EMF meter is blinking and beeping faster than I’d like. In an instant, Wood is doubled over and breathing heavily, her eyes ringed red. The meter goes dead.
“How can we help you?” Kolek asks Wood, who seems to be channeling Jacob. The meter beeps.
“My things,” Wood says, her voice like churning gravel. She is pacing in a little corner of the basement and staring down Kolek.
“Jacob, what are they?” asks Kolek.
Without warning, Wood knocks Kolek to the floor. Not intimidated, he gets up.
“I’m losing my patience,” he tells Jacob.
“Ron, get away from me,” says Wood. She is crying and clearly agitated. “Get away from me.”
“Push him out,” Kolek says, coaxing Wood back from her trance. She seems to want to come. Just then, she looks up at her son, who for the first time is joining his mother on an investigation. In that moment, the EMF meter he has been holding shuts off. And Wood has returned.
Her son, clutching his chest in pain, is shaken. A few minutes later, he says he felt like his lungs were constricting, but didn’t want to elaborate further. The team, exhausted from a long night, begins to gather their belongings.
***
A couple of days later, Ron informs me by phone that the recorder they left running all night picked up an EVP—an electronic voice phenomenon. It is a long and clear scream. A camera has also captured a door opening by itself, he says. I, for one, don’t want to see it. No proof is ever enough. And I’d like to keep it that way.
A Supernatural Spectacular – Fall 2007
One writer’s real life experience on a professional ghost hunt
The Windham is said to be haunted. Employees report seeing cutlery and dishes moved around and feeling something playing with their hair. Photo by Leo Monfet.
Let me start off by saying I am afraid of ghosts. So when I was asked to join in on a hunt for some, I was speechless. I know it seems absurd, but it wasn’t what I had in mind when I suggested doing a story on the New England Ghost Project, a group founded by Dracut resident Ron Kolek that investigates paranormal activity in the Merrimack Valley and beyond.
But I accepted. After all, how could I turn down such a great opportunity? While I waited for a hunt date, I enlisted the protection of a good and cynical friend, who would serve as bodyguard against evil spirits. Then I received the call. We’d be going to The Windham, a 19th century Colonial-turned-restaurant in Windham, long reported to be haunted. The group would be broadcasting its weekly radio show to an Internet audience of ghost enthusiasts and contacting the spirits they believe haunt the 200-year-old building.
It would happen on Friday, the 13th. The radio show would start at 10 p.m. The real fun would begin at midnight. That night, thunderstorms threatened the skies. Driving down I-495, the dashboard lights in my car blew out. I was already petrified.
When we walk into the restaurant a little after 10, the place is hopping. People crowd the bar. Waiters and waitresses bustle about. This won’t be so bad, I think to myself. Ironically I feel somewhat disappointed. When we ask for the New England Ghost Project, we are pointed upstairs. “They’re up there somewhere,” the waiter says casually. That’s when we meet Clay Rucker and Kolek’s son, who serve as the group’s designated techies. They are setting up base camp on the second floor.
They have come armed with infrared cameras, electromagnetic field meters, temperature gauges, and video cameras. Then there are the pendulums and holy water—all standard fare for the group’s investigations. But tonight, there is something new. A Van de Graff meter, which will send electromagnetic energy into the air to amplify any paranormal activity, sits atop a table in an empty dining room across the hall.
“I’m kind of a doting disbeliever,” says Rucker, an engineer by day, whose wife Janet, a librarian by trade, is lead researcher for the group. “To me, it’s all about the science.”
Both men have had a longtime fascination with ghosts, and Kolek’s son, who asked not to be named, seems unfazed by the suggestion that some people don’t believe this is all real. “For the believer, no proof is necessary. For the skeptic, no proof is enough,” he says.
Upstairs in an attic room, Kolek and partner Maureen Wood, a medium who says she can communicate with spirits, sit in front of a computer and microphone and tell whoever’s listening on the Web about the ghosts who haunt the Windham. There’s Jacob, a man in a blue suit who is incessantly looking for his things; a little boy named William who plays with a little girl; and a lady who haunts the bar area. While on the air, a new spirit that Maureen has felt this night for the first time visits her. (Owners and workers have corroborated evidence of paranormal activity.)
For two hours, the pair—joined by other members of the group, including Kolek’s wife Jan and Project photographer Leo Monfet—talks about ghosts, complete with comic tête-à-têtes and entertaining banter. “I know we joke around a lot, but sometimes we have to because things get crazy,” says Wood, who does technical work for a living.
At midnight, they sign off and Kolek jokingly tells Wood they are ready to “spark her up” with the Van de Graff. The restaurant is now deserted. Wood, who tells us that she inherited her abilities and has sensed spirits since she was a child, joined the Project about five years ago, after answering Kolek’s ad for a psychic.
“I never believed in psychics at all,” says Kolek, who started the group in 1998 after a series of strange experiences. “I thought they were all charlatans.”
“Maureen’s the real deal,” says Jan, shaking her head knowingly.
To date, the Project has performed nearly 200 investigations, all for free. They’ve attended exorcisms by the Catholic Church and have investigated government buildings, cemeteries, private homes, and forts.
“It’s nothing I really wanted to do,” says Kolek. “But now it’s like a calling to me. And you want to help people, and we do.”
Many spirits, Kolek says, haunt the Merrimack Valley. A ghost who fancies himself a Southern gentleman and calls himself General Beauregard frequents an undisclosed location in Haverhill. At the 1859 House in Methuen, a murdered man haunts the tavern. The Tenney Gate House, home to the Methuen Historical Society, is the apparent resting place for a monk and a woman. And Kolek contends that at the Old Hill Burying Ground in Newburyport, he has been slimed, not Dr. Peter Venkman-style in Ghostbusters, either.
“My forearm from my elbow to my wrist was covered with a black, oozing gook that burned,” describes Kolek, who has a degree in environmental science.
But tonight we’re looking for Jacob.
Here, the ghost of William can be seen in the first shot, and then we see him turning into light and leaving the room in the second shot, taken just one minute later. Photo by Leo Monfet.
.
A brief encounter with the ghost happens in the dining room near the Van de Graff. When Wood recovers from the trance-like encounter, she says, “That lady, I think she’s down in the hallway.” So down we go.
“Do you want to talk to us?” asks Kolek, his electromagnetic field meter (EMF) reader blinking and beeping, a sign that a spirit is near. We crowd the doorway, watching.
“Yes. But Jacob doesn’t want her to,” says Wood, who adds that she feels William and the little girl, but Jacob doesn’t want them to come down. And he doesn’t want them talking.
“A lot of times you have dominant spirits in the house,” Kolek explains.
Then come the words I am dreading. Wood wants to go to the basement.
The ceilings are low and draped with cobwebs. Insulation sticks out from exposed ducts and plays tricks on my mind. The red light on Ron’s EMF meter is blinking and beeping faster than I’d like. In an instant, Wood is doubled over and breathing heavily, her eyes ringed red. The meter goes dead.
“How can we help you?” Kolek asks Wood, who seems to be channeling Jacob. The meter beeps.
“My things,” Wood says, her voice like churning gravel. She is pacing in a little corner of the basement and staring down Kolek.
“Jacob, what are they?” asks Kolek.
Without warning, Wood knocks Kolek to the floor. Not intimidated, he gets up.
“I’m losing my patience,” he tells Jacob.
“Ron, get away from me,” says Wood. She is crying and clearly agitated. “Get away from me.”
“Push him out,” Kolek says, coaxing Wood back from her trance. She seems to want to come. Just then, she looks up at her son, who for the first time is joining his mother on an investigation. In that moment, the EMF meter he has been holding shuts off. And Wood has returned.
Her son, clutching his chest in pain, is shaken. A few minutes later, he says he felt like his lungs were constricting, but didn’t want to elaborate further. The team, exhausted from a long night, begins to gather their belongings.
***
A couple of days later, Ron informs me by phone that the recorder they left running all night picked up an EVP—an electronic voice phenomenon. It is a long and clear scream. A camera has also captured a door opening by itself, he says. I, for one, don’t want to see it. No proof is ever enough. And I’d like to keep it that way.