Eclectic Ramblings of an Old Soul.

There is a road in Christiansburg Va that is known by locals as "Danger Hill." It was always the one road that every teenager would prove their bravery by driving up/down once they got their drivers license. One of those teenagers was me. In total though, I've only driven that road 2-3 times. For me, the road had a different meaning. I was six years old in 1979, when my grandpa died in a car accident. I don't have any memory of the event of course. I was told about how he died as a child and knew it was on that hill. I found out more details just in the last few years. The newspaper article about it was slim to say the least. Here is what happened. My grandfather was at the top of danger hill, in his small pickup truck. He pulled out from the stop sign to go down the hill, when a witness saw his truck coming down the hill very quickly. The witness said that my grandpa was leaned forward onto the steering wheel, appearing to be asleep. His position on the wheel k

Around 2008-2009 I rented a house in Concord N.C. It was part of the Brown Mill Community. If you're not familiar with what that means, N.C. had thread and fabric mills. The local mill, in this case Brown Mill, would setup villages for their workers to live in, at a reduced rate of course. These historic neighborhoods are very quaint, a piece of history. Depending upon the surrounding area, these homes could be very expensive to occupy  if in the right neighborhood. This wasn't the case for me. I paid $500 a month, quite inexpensive at the time. I got a discount because the owners son was married to a  secretary at our rehab. The original owner though was the current owners Dad. He was one of those mill workers in the day. When I went to tour the home to see if it was worth the money, I immediately fell in love. So cute. Two fireplaces, only five rooms, a built on bathroom, fenced in yard, plenty of parking, large trees shading the whole home and a front porch. I couldn't

Mercy Hospital This place has a rich history. It had been run by nuns and priests originally, with locals working as nursing assistants. It had been a location for many poor and disenfranchised people to receive medical care. Today it is a mix of all, but still a location for the urban centers less advantaged to receive care. There are areas of this hospital that you can feel "it". I describe "it" as a feeling that time stands still, sounds become more muted and you are called to a higher consciousness within your being to stand, feel and listen. Now some may find this feeling daunting or unsettling. I find it just the opposiste. The stillness and oneness that I find in these moments is calming for me. It's a moment when the spiritual realm is right there to touch and feel. It's a reminder to stop and listen to something within me, my spirit as it travels this mortal existence.  Many patients "within their right minds", have reported seeing a littl

This photo was taken the night of the Va. Tech Shooting during a candlelight vigil being held on the drill field. Persons present stated that it was not visible in the sky.  This photo was taken on my Mom's back porch, shortly after the death of my  grandmother. We were still very much grieving and this orb was right outside the window to a bedroom that had her bedroom suit in it. My Mom said she felt her presence in the home, in that room for years. Here is a close up of the orb I believe is my Maw-Maw. See the face?

Sometime in the early part of 2010, I took a drive around Concord N.C. just sigh seeing. I had a friend tell me about a place that used to be a school for boys named Stonewall Jackson Training center. It was said to be haunted. It was a Sunday, cloudy and a light rain was falling on and off. The layout of the buildings made the grounds look like a military base. Several tall, brick buildings that were abandoned. I did take several photos of both the inside and outside that day. If you look closely at the upper left window, do you see what I see? A boys' face looking back at you?

My sister and I went on a ghost hunt journey. On an extremely cold Friday night in Weston West Virginia we voluntarily spent the night in an old, civil war era lunatic asylum. This building was several football fields long, made of stone. There were four floors, only emergency lighting, a lot of dust, peeling paint and authentic signage and hospital items scattered about. The architecture of the building was amazing! Sculpted gargoyles atop the building, sharp peaks and detailed stone work. Amazing building to say the least. A wealthy man had purchased the building for his daughter. It had been state owned, but as it sat vacant for years, the investor came in to purchase the land/building. The daughter told the community that that she was looking to restore it to it's authentic state. Quite a large endeavor and an expensive one also, considering the age and condition of the building. The surrounding community is very poor. So poor in fact, that there is a curfew to discourage cri