The Dancing Ghost

I have been doing a little research into local spooks lately to find some places for a ghost hunt. There are a lot of really good resources for just such a thing. Living near a Lakota Reservation, I have taken a lot of extra precautions to not upset the locals. Most of the stories are linked to their traditions, and I don’t want to be disrespectful.

We started a while back with a couple really disappointing trips. I try to include my kids in them since my son has already had countless paranormal experiences. If it gets to intense, I also have a very fair way to get out. “Oh dang, the kids are scared.”

This logic failed me last night. We were out to find the old cemetery with a tale of a dancing ghost. The legend is that there is a tall male spirit that dances into the road.  It is known to make eye contact with the occupants of the car as they pass by, and he is said to have glowing red eyes.

The road is said to be built on an old burial ground. On the right hand side sits 2 smaller cemeteries. The energy in the area itself is interesting. We didn’t see the dancing man, but we did have an interesting experience.

As we drove by, you could feel an eerie feeling. There were the typical lights in the small graveyards, set there by the loved ones of the deceased. Neither of the 2 cemeteries had any noticeable activity.

We drove back to the edge of town and I decided to explain the legend to my wife. If I tell her before we go, she protests. While I was explaining the tale to Abbie, I started feeling compelled to turn around and explore some more.

Just as this feeling started, I experienced what felt like someone scratching my chest.  It was a sharp enough pain I pulled over to see what was wrong. When I turned on the light in the car to check my chest, I didn’t see anything, but the burning grew more intense.

This was an interesting thing for me. I have seen things, heard things, and had them sit on my bed. I have never felt a burning like this before. It was just over my heart and it burned like fire. Like I said, interesting.

I will be looking into more information on what this legend is said to be, and if there are more stories to go along with mine. I will be making a trip back to do a late night investigation soon. Again, this is Sioux land. I have to be respectful, and careful of drunken encounters. That’s a much bigger risk.

If you have any information on what may have done this, please let me know. Like I said, I will be doing a little more digging to see if I can get more information. Since we left i haven’t experienced anymore burning, so that’s good. Anyway, stay tuned for next weeks story. We are going to look for a haunted car that is said to follow you.

Have a great week.




Ghost Hunt; My Son’s Room

A while back i said I will be starting a ghost exploration weekly posting. I have had no luck getting any good stories. But, this week is different. I didn’t have to leave the house. What I did discover is one simple thing, I need equipment.

Thursday night, my wife and I were sitting up getting things done. I was working on a book and she was writing lesson plans for school. The 3 kids were all asleep in bed, and our dogs were asleep at my feet. The videos we had been watching on Youtube had stopped, so the house was dead quiet. You could hear a pin drop.

In this case, we heard the furniture slide. We looked at each other, both knowing we heard something slide across the floor. Abbie, my wife, went to check on the kids. I went to check the outside of the house. Suddenly, I heard Abbie yell, “Dan, get in here. NOW!”

Crap, she found something. I walked to the Laundry room to find Abbie standing frozen in my son’s bedroom doorway. She simply pointed and said, “It’s the dresser.” I looked over and sure enough, the dresser had been pushed across the floor. It was only a couple inches, but here is why it’s a problem.

The dresser is pushed up tight against the basement door. The basement is empty, with the exception of a couple old pieces of furniture. My son has been terrified of his room since we moved in.

We are a Christian family, so we began praying with him before bedtime. This helped him feel safe and it stopped the nightmares he was having. We were good with this result.

I walked over to the dresser and it was pushed out about two inches from the door. The door opens into my sons room, so the dresser has to be moved to pull the door open. We put an eye hook lock on the door to keep it from opening as well. There is about two inches at the most the door can move with the eye hook latched.

The dresser had been moved out about two inches and at the angle which the door opens. I left it pulled out and pulled out my camera on my phone and downloaded s spirit box just to see if I could make any contact.

After Abbie moved Ricky to my daughter’s room I started asking questions. I asked for a name, Nothing. I asked if they had a problem with us being in the house, Nothing. I asked if they wanted us out of the house, nothing.

I decided to try opening the basement door. When i did this I heard, without a doubt, “HI”. Then i felt a cold draft come up out of the door. It was a cool night and it’s a basement. I wasn’t too surprised. But there is also no airflow down there.

My sons room was 63 degrees and there is no external access to the basement. A cold air is possible, but not overly likely. Pretty interesting stuff.

I told my wife I need to get some equipment to set up for a more detailed evaluation. I want to get a good digital recorder and a spirit box. I’m not 100% sold on the spirit box concept, but I have seen some compelling evidence. I also want to get a small twist top flashlight.

When I get these, I plan to open the basement door up and try to get them to talk to me. Hopefully I can share some of the captures here for a more in depth story for everyone. I am also reaching out to locals to see about good places to go for different hunts.

I will be bringing you more. Stay tuned. If you have any recommendations on equipment and where I can get a good deal, let me know. I work with a very tight budget so I need to plan out when I can buy it.

Have a great week.


Moral conflicts

Hey guys,

A few days ago I wrote about our Lizzie Andrews Series project getting started on gofundme. This was almost a deal breaker for me, but I made an agreement and I couldn’t back out on it. I have been conflicted with the project to the point of not really even wanting to work on it.

I knew I needed to make a change. After some consideration and back and forth with Kathy, we decided to pull the plug on gofundme. To me, gofundme is nothing more than begging for money with no return. I have issues with others using it. It’s a great way to support others.

I just don’t like that it’s plain old begging. I don’t beg. I tried to be understanding about Kathy’s position, but morally it was eating me up. This is just my personal feelings, and I don’t mean to offend anyone.

We did decide to put up a page for Kickstarter. We will be offering a copy of the first Lizzie Andrews books to the contributors. I am also considering letting one of the rewards teirs be a copy of Morgan Goes Fishing for the donation. Spread the word, right.

Kickstarter at least gives me a chance to sell a product for people to get behind. The donations made to gofundme will be transferred over to kickstarter. I am even going to offer the rewards for the contributors we have so far.

I feel this is a better arrangement. We aren’t begging for money. I am not morally conflicted. Best of all, we can still move forward.

In other news, hauntings. I am starting out on my (hopefully) weekly haunting trips. I am finding local stories and locations and seeing what happens. These stories will be posted each week with details of what I experienced.

I don’t want to be a boring page with nothing to offer. I want readers to want to come back. If you enjoy any of it, like it, comment on it, whatever. I look forward to it.

Have a great night


New job, new ghosts

I just started a job at a hotel in South Dakota. It’s at another haunted hotel. The cool thing is, they embrace the hauntings. There is even a book in the lobby that explains the hauntings and origins.

I asked a couple of employees what they have heard as far as complaints of ghost activity goes. I have a couple new things to look forward to.

At four years old the founders daughter died. I believe the cause was tuberculosis but I won’t say for sure. Over the years there have been complaints of a little girl laughing in the halls and knocking on doors.

One night a guest called down to complain about this same thing. What she didn’t know what the story of the little girl. It did however confirm the stories a co-worker of mine had heard.

Shortly after being built, a bride jumped from an 8th story window on the night of her wedding. This to me is a drastic way to celebrate. I’m kidding, it’s a really sad story. Another story is about an employee that hung herself in a guest room closet.

These are just the stories I was told with little information about them. I look forward to hearing stories and having experiences as my time there continues. I can keep you updated. In the mean time, tell me a place I should check out.

Museum Ghosts

I worked for a group of museums in a small town in South Dakota. It was a fun job. I met people from around the world, and heard some interesting stories. A common question I heard at one museum in particular was, “Is this place haunted?”

My boss had told me stories of things happening that couldn’t really be explained. On my third day, I saw my first apparition there. That was pretty mellow for me.

One day as I played a wooden flute, terribly I might add, I heard music. I was tired of hurting my own ears and decided to put the flute away. I heard music again.

I listened and heard beautiful flute music playing. We had 2 videos that would play on repeat, so I decided the music was coming from them. When I checked, it was neither.

After about 5 minutes the music stopped. I have had experiences my whole life. For me this was nothing new. I enjoyed it.

I walked through opening the museum in the mornings and get to the basement and say, “Let’s have some fun today guys,” to our ghostly friends. These were the days I had the most questions.

Most were stories of one horse drawn hurst in particular. This was a beautiful white hurst. I loved seeing it every day. The best story actually got me pretty excited and almost scared.

I had a guest come in one day and we had a sign up for paranormal tours at another museum. It was just before closing time and they had walked up from the basement.

The lady of the couple asked me angrily, “I suppose you expect me to believe this place is haunted!”

I responded, “ma’am I don’t expect you to believe anything, but I will say I have had reports of strange occurrences.” I figured this would be enough to relax her a little. She got even more angry. For the next bit let’s call her G.


Me: “Well I’m sorry to hear that if it’s something you were looking forward to.”

G: “where are these supposed ghosts.”

Me: “I have the most reports of things happening in the corner by the white hurst.”

At this point the she stopped talking, her new dropped and went white. I grinned at her then asked, “What happened?”

She stared for a minute before she replied quietly, “I was taking a picture by that hurst and my camera died. It was fully charged when I came in. If I walk out of this museum and my camera turns back on I will be furious!”

I told her that was not an uncommon complaint, and for her sake, I hoped her camera didn’t turn on. She stepped outside and I locked the door behind them and changed the sign over to “Closed”.

I watched for a second as they went down the stairs and she turned around, glaring at me. Her camera had turned on woth no problems. They walked to their car and I turned to lock up.

Normally I would lock up the upstairs portion of the museum first. This time I went right to the basement. I got to the room with the carriages, that they had just left and the energy in the room was intense.

It was the only time I felt uncomfortable in this room. As I got across the room to the white hurst I heard, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK! It was coming from the front of a carriage.

I walked to the front and heard the same KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, from the back of the carriage. I walked to the back and heard three more knocks from the front. At this point I knew my ghostly friends were mad.

I told them, “calm down guys. I’m sorry she upset you, but she’s gone now. Just have a good night.” Yes, I talked to the ghosts. Why not?

The intense energy in the room lightened after that. I got out of the room as fast as I could and finished closing the museum.

I decided that I needed to pick up a recorder to see if I could get anything on there. I picked up a few things, but nothing major. There were spurred footsteps, wood creaking, and a sound I couldn’t identify.

This was easily the most interesting job I had. I am convinced this place had something going on. I welcomed them and enjoyed them. Why not have someone to talk to on a dead quiet day, right?

The Haunted Handkerchief?

I worked at a hotel in South Dakota. It was a good job in a good town. Not much happened on the Night shift. We would have the occasional drunk guest, and the casino died after about 2:00 am when they stopped serving alcohol.

We always had groups come in fkr different events. Most were pretty laid back. Then there was the night of the bachelorette party. Easily the funniest night in my time there.

A group of ladies came through, very drunk, very happy and very easily triggered. They came through the lobby laughing and having fun. Nothing out of theordinary for a late night group. They went to their rooms and I didn’t think much about it.

It was maybe a half hour later that one of the girls showed up at the desk asking for a wash cloth. One of the members of their party had fallen and was bleeding. I gave her a couple and she went back to the room. Then a second girl came down asking for more wash cloths and a plastic bag.

I asked if everything was okay when k got the funniest answer I have ever heard.

“One of the ladies was pushed off the toilet by a ghost!” she said.

I stopped and stared at her for a second and asked what made them think this. She explained that they had gone on a paranormal tour at another hotel, and after finding a handkerchief in a bathroom, this lady had decided to bring it back with them. My only thought was, “Why not keep a used handkerchief you find in a bathroom?”

Well, this “ghost” was angry that this lady had kept the hanky, and when she went into the bathroom decided to get revenge. By pushing her off the toilet.

At this point, everything I learned about customer service and professionalism was being put to the test. I had to keep a straight face while listening to this story from a scared guest.

The guest went back to the room after sharing the story to help out her friend. After about 30 minutes they call down to ask where the nearest hospital is. I tell them where it is and offer a map to help them find it.

They come down to take their blood covered friend to the emergency room and get the map. I ask if there is anything I can do to help. They politely say no and leave.

As the night went on I shared the story with the night supervisor and decide that we should make up an incident report. It was the hardest report to write up, because it felt like a joke.

The phone rang. I answer it and have this girl on the line sounding stressed out and terrified.

“Hi Dan, I’m with the lady that got attacked by a ghost. We threw the hanky out in the hallway on the 2nd floor. Can you please grab it so we can return it to the hotel we got it from? I don’t want anyone else to get attacked” she said. I told her that I already had it at the front desk for them. I had gone up to get it, just in case they wanted it.

This couldn’t really have just happened. I hung up the phone laughing uncontrollably. It was turning out to be a really good night.

At about 5:00 am the group comes back in with the lady stitched up and badly swollen. You could tell they were embarrassed, so I didn’t say a word and just let them go back to their rooms. I didn’t want to make her feel any worse than she already did.

The last girl to come in stopped at the desk and said, “Please don’t say anything. That’s the bride’s mom and she is really embarrassed. The wedding is in two weeks” I asked if the mom was okay, and if there was anything we could do to help. Then I handed her the hanky and let her go for the night.

This was easily the strangest event to have happen in my time at that hotel. I am pretty sure the mom was just drunk and fell off the toilet. I can’t say for sure. Weird things happen.

I want to hear some funny stories from readers. Comment here and share an experience. It can be scary, funny or whatever. I look forward to seeing some responses.

Not The Way

A theme for a fair portion of my stories will be stupidity. This one isn’t that so much as being a teenager and not listening. You know how it goes. You spend your whole life being told not to do something, so at some point you do it. You’re not scared of anything.

My cousin Brandon and I were stubborn teen boys. We had a Sunday afternoon routine of going to Ft. Wayne, IN to hang out and hit the stores and just screw around. He was 17 or so, I was about 14. The perfect age to push boundaries and see what happened. With the exceptions of a soybean field and a late night slide into a ditch, it never did any harm.

Then there was the day in early November that left us scarred. In all reality it left us scared, but that was a secret. Our whole lives we were told to not stop at The Way. It was a college in a small town south of where we lived. The group of people were rumored to be a cult. The whole history is pretty sketchy, so I won’t swear to anything or go into details of anything but this day.

We were on our way to hang out when we decided it was time to stop. This building was enormous. The cold weather had set in and we were in our heavier winter coats. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t warm. This comes into play a little later.

We pulled into the empty parking lot of the approximately 600 acre college and looked around. There was not a soul around. It was eerily quiet. The only sound was our footsteps and the wind.

We looked up the side of the three story building. Nothing at all around. We decided to go see if we could get in, because when the place freaks you out, that’s what you do. Right?

We approach the door and see two long hallways up a small flight of steps past the entry. As we looked around we, again, saw nobody. The door was locked. The lights were off. As we turned to leave, disappointed and still freaked the door opened.

We turned around to see this tiny elderly woman greeting us.

“Oh, hello boys. How can I help you today?” she asked.

Brandon looked at me as we turned around and asked, “where did she come from?”

I had no idea. But, there she was. Very sweet, very polite and very creepy.

As we explained that we were just there to look around and see the building a little bit up close, she started sharing stories with us about the history of the building. She told us how it had been a celebrity spa back in the 1920’s. It had been a Catholic Monastery, and was appointed a safe place for the End Times. Fascinating place.

Then it got scary. She got started on the story of when it was a college. She told us about the garden out by the dorm buildings that used to house the fraternities, and how they “Just aren’t with us anymore.” Naturally we had to ask where they went.

“They just aren’t with us anymore, boys.” she said again. “I was just on my way out there now to pick some tomatoes. We have a garden set up by their dorms.”

I looked at Brandon and we noted the weather. It was too dang cold for tomatoes to be growing. We ignored it as best we could. We continued to visit and we never made it in the front door. We held the door open with our feet as she stood there talking about her stoner son, that she was so proud of, the local schools, people who had graduated 10-15 years or more before we were at the school, and more about the college.

We about exploded with excitement when she offered to let us see the chapel.

“Go on down the sidewalk to the chapel door and I will meet you there.” she said.

“Okay, great.” we said, as we started down the sidewalk.

Before these 2 young healthy teenage boys made it half way down the sidewalk to the chapel, we saw her open up the door to let us in. I have no idea how she covered the probably 200 feet before we had even made it half way. But, she did.

I looked up and noticed something terrifying.

I looked at Brandon and asked, “Dude, where the heck are her hands?”

As we got closer he freaked out more too, because very clearly, she was minus two hands.

What was she waving at us so clearly with? How did she beat us to the chapel at that distance and what we assumed was 230 years old? What happened to the frat boys? Where did she come from at the entrance?

The questions raced through our minds as we felt our hearts pounding faster and faster. We didn’t know what was going to happen next. In the days before cell phones, we were screwed. If we went missing, they would never find us.

When we entered the chapel we saw some of the most beautiful Italian Marble and stained glass windows we had ever seen. The room was ornate and huge. The bluish marble hung from floor to ceiling in gigantic slabs. The pews were ornate with the standard wood finish. The windows gave the room a very welcoming glow and this helped. The room was UNBELIEVABLE.

We didn’t stay in the chapel too long. It was time to get out of there and head anywhere but there. As we wrapped up the tour, she asked for our phone number to give us a call for a tour. Brandon gave them his dads phone number and we left.

Neither of us said a word until we were about 10 minutes away when i shouted to Brandon, “WHERE WERE HER HANDS!” He yelled back, “I DON’T KNOW! WHAT JUST HAPPENED?”

We started going over details and realized that in the probably 30 minutes we talked to this lady, she never blinked. Her sense of time was way off, and her lack of hands all led us to believe that she was dead. Very very dead.

We went to Ft. Wayne for the day and hung out a little bit. The events of The Way never left our minds. When we got home we told the whole stories to our parents, who got a great deal of humor out of our horror.

I don’t know any more of the woman. I went back to check out the building again several years later and found a few more creepy things laying around that really didn’t make much sense. It’s a fascinating place. I have heard countless stories about things that happened there. I just have no proof. Just a no-handed non-blinking dead lady. Maybe I can take my wife to visit.