The Historic Homes Workshop Weekend Part II

In case you missed it, here is part I.

Saturday was full of workshops, and Sunday was a workday. We were matched with pros to learn to do a complete mechanical makeover of sash windows. Steve calls that pairing, “Pros and Joes.” I fall somewhere between a Pro and Joe since I have done several mechanical makeovers on the windows here at BHH.

Steve sent my group of four plus two mentors up to the second floor to work on the windows in what used to be the children’s room.

We carefully moved two baby cribs occupied by dolls away from the windows. Apparently, this was a poor decision. More on that later.

Time flew as we removed all the window parts and completed a functional makeover on both of the windows in the room. This included removing both sashes, replacing broken glass, and tying new sash cords to the cast iron weights.

I did not take a lot of photos of the process because we were all working at a solid pace. One of our first instructions was not to bite off more than we could chew. Steve wanted quality over quantity, so we all kept moving. I don’t think any of us wanted to be the person who had to say, “Sorry, we couldn’t finish. We left all the parts up there for you.”

By mid-afternoon, our windows were back in place and ready for the painters. Go team!

Paranormal Activity? You Decide

Let me preface this section by saying that I attended the ghost tour at the May-Stringer House Museum on the evening of my arrival. As we walked around the dark house, we heard plenty of stories about the long-dead people who lived in the house as well as the potential ghosts attached to all of the artifacts and donated items. I’m a skeptic. It’s true. I am sympathetic to the convinced, but I have not ever really bought into the whole idea of paranormal activity. That said, I am spooked easily. I don’t love being alone in creepy places or overthinking scary stories. So, keep that in mind as I explain what happened.

Strange Happening #1

The first oddity happened in the room adjacent to the children’s room. Because we needed access to the windows, we had to move two cribs with dolls in them. We scooted one gently across the room and moved the second out altogether.

Our group held different opinions about the importance of the dolls. Because I went on the ghost tour, I knew the guides were very respectful of all the artifacts including the toys. So, some of us jokingly (not jokingly!) told the dolls they were pretty, and I said, “We will put you right back. I promise.” I decided it was better to cover my bases.

A few hours into our day, my mentor Bill pointed out that this ball showed up out of nowhere.

A museum volunteer mentioned, “That ball was way under the bed in the room where you are working. Jessie May is feeling playful.”

Jessie May is a deceased three-year-old.

The ball showing up was easy enough to explain. Perhaps it was a wind gust. Doors and windows were open all over the house. Maybe something we moved had bumped it, and the ball bounced it’s way out from under the bed as if it were in a pinball machine. No one saw it roll. We just found it this way. Later that afternoon, we found the ball in a new place all the way across the room.

Floors in old houses are rarely level. Balls roll. Right?

Strange Happening #2

I was the only person who experienced the next thing I’m about to tell you, and I know exactly how crazy it sounds.

According to the guide of the ghost tour, a ghost named Gary lives in the attic. They are not quite sure how he got there, but they believe he is attached to an antique steamer trunk. They describe him as a grumpy drama king. For added impact, they also display this super creepy mannequin beside the trunk.

I asked Ryan if I could take his photo, and I made a joke about Gary and that mannequin. In hindsight, perhaps that was a bad idea.

Towards the end of our workday, Ryan asked me to go up to the attic and put a coat of primer on all of the new window sills. Being alone in the attic sounded like a terrible idea to me, but I didn’t want to be ridiculous and admit that I felt a little uneasy. So, off I trotted to the attic, paintbrush in hand.

The attic is split into three alcoves, and each one basically looks like the photo below.

The May-Stringer staff knows that the key to a terrifying attic is dark shadows and a random assortment of old stuff.

I wanted to finish quickly and get out of there. About five minutes into my work, I started feeling the floor move a little. I was on my hands and knees painting. It felt like the movement that comes from someone walking. I did not hear anything, so I poked around on the floorboards with my hand. It was solid. I dismissed what I felt as normal shifting, probably from everyone working below me.

I started slapping primer on the bare wood as fast as I could without compromising the quality of my work. Another fifteen minutes or so passed, and suddenly, plain as day, I heard something that sounded exactly like the drawbolts on a trunk-rattling loudly. It came from the other alcove.

rattle rattle rattle Stop

rattle rattle rattle Stop.

I froze.

rattle rattle rattle Stop.

I was just about to shout out “Knock it off, Gary!”* as a precaution, but I decided not to. I assumed the noises I heard came from a real person, and I didn’t want to sound silly.

*That worked for Debbie’s significant other in episode #3 of the podcast.”

rattle rattle rattle Stop.

The rattling stopped for good. I worked for a few more minutes, and out of nowhere, my new friend Loren walked up behind me and started to ask me a question. I just about jumped out of my skin, and an expletive or two came out of my mouth. I’m not proud. We both laughed.

I asked, “Have you been up here for a few minutes?”

He answered, “No. I just walked up here right now.”

After I told Loren the whole story, I asked him if he would stay in the attic with me until I finished painting. We bounced around a few explanations for the rattling:

• A sound from outside bounced off the walls inside.
• Practical joke
• A real person I did not see entered and left the room
• Hidden speaker controlled by the museum staff

I left that room feeling relieved that I was not staying overnight in the May-Stringer House Museum. Hard pass on that invite.

So, that’s my possible paranormal activity story. I know that many of you are believers. I remain a respectful skeptic, but wow! That was unnerving–stupid Gary.

How would you explain what happened? Lie to me.

Even though I was haunted, or punked, or whatever, I declare the weekend a complete success. I plan to attend again next year, and I invite all of you to meet me there. Together, we can tell Gary to knock it off.

-Stacy