On Saturday night we ventured out to Newport, for a ghost tour in the heart of the old port town.
Back in the early days of photography, there were enterprising frauds that attempted to take advantage of people mourning the loss of sons and fathers from the Civil War, claiming the ability to take spirit photographs. These pictures would claim to capture pictures of the undead—oozing ectoplasm, wraithlike spirits, and the like.
If our tour guide was to be believed, (http://www.ghostsofnewport.com/gwtour.htm), these types of pictures still exist—only nowadays, we can take them ourselves. Stern in spirit, with a loud, booming voice (clearly an actress), our guide passed out several photos that were taken during past tours that she claimed captured images of the restless dead. Mostly, they looked like bits of chunky white fog.
For my part, I am firmly convinced that the unearthly rainbow effect shown in the window of my first photo is the result of my flash. But who knows…maybe there’s more to the story? All I know this, after the tour guide’s initial speech, which occurred in “Blood Alley,” Ashes grabbed me by the hand and sternly instructed me to put my camera away, because she didn’t want to see pictures of any ghosts. And then, when I started taking pictures, anyway, she told me that she wouldn’t look at the photos that I took, ever.
And of course, she was the first one to ask to take a look, when we arrived home.
That’s Blood Alley, but as you can see, I didn’t capture any icky oozy foggy things. I did, however, capture a very nice dessert in the restaurant located directly behind our tour guide. After a nice walk through the cold, it was great to warm up with some coffee and Key Lime pie. This next photo, by the way, is also of a restaurant, which supposedly has a phantom diner—an old, dead general.
This next place actually is haunted, according to the testimony of a person that I know and trust. See, Corb worked at the front desk of this inn, which is across from the Admiral Farragut, for one summer, and nodded in agreement as the tour guide told of strange visitations and lights that would go on for no reason, in the room that you see in the upper left hand corner. They also, incidentally, have a basement there that’s used for laundry, which Corb took me to see last year, because it always totally creeped him out. I agree—the vibes were totally unpleasant.
We ended this tour at the Salem Cemetery, greeted by a black cat on one of the graves. I’m not sure whether that was purposeful or not, but I do know that Tiger was totally in love, because the cat reminded him of Koko, the oldest of our felines at the homestead.
As this photo proves, there seemed to be strange beasts that lived in the trees of Newport, that only come out at night. These odd creatures would swoop down from the trees and attach themselves to you, and would demand strange things like ice cream after supper and plenty of juice for their Game Boy. Really, quite disturbing...and expensive!
And here's the most frightening of all pictures...the Giant with the knife. This picture was taken in one of the old common houses in Newport, and apparently, my camera picked up the spirit of a tall German man with anger in his heart. Why he came to be so angry, and how he came to have a knife in his hand is sheer conjecture, although local folklore has it that he was a butcher who lived during Colonial times and snapped one day, chopping up unsuspecting townspeople and selling them in his store as pork loin. Anyway, I'll be submitting this picture to the Royal Order of Spirit Drawings, any day now.