My Crazy Ghost Hunting Experience

Jean Lafitte's Blacksmith Shop
Jean Lafitte’s Blacksmith Shop has nothing to do with this post, except that it’s in New Orleans, and it’s a really cool, haunted bar.

My sexy Dutchman and I went to New Orleans over Spring Break. I’ve taken a liking to setting my books in my favorite city, and every time I write one, he gets nostalgic and wants to go back to the Big Easy. I’m not complaining, because every time we go back I get inspiration for another book. It seems to be a never-ending cycle, and again…I’m not complaining!

On this particular trip, we took a ghost tour that was beyond anything I’ve ever experienced. To call it a tour is a stretch. We walked around the French Quarter for a little while, but the highlight of the excursion was when we went inside the building. Upstairs from a little shop on Rampart Street, we ventured into a haunted apartment.

I need to note that we ended up on a private tour. There were supposed to be five other people in our group, but they apparently had too much fun at the St. Patrick’s Day parade and backed out at the last minute. So it was just me, my husband, and our tour guide James.

We started with dowsing rods and K2 meters (Electromagnetic Field Detectors) to try and make contact with the spirits in the apartment. We got some hits on the meters and some answers to our questions with the dowsing rods, but the fun was only beginning.

Now, I’m not one to tell you what to believe in. You either think ghosts are real or you don’t. Personally, I’m a believer. But even a skeptic might set his disbelief aside if he experienced what I did that night.

James had an array of haunted artifacts, and I chose one to set in the middle of our circle. He also set up some other trigger objects and communication tools on the table. Then we all joined hands as he turned out the lights.

Ghost Communication Tools
The tools we used to communicate with the spirits. (K2 meter not pictured)

This is where it gets freaky. And if you’re a non-believer, just hear me out to the end. We started with some deep breathing. Normal stuff if you’re about to contact spirits on the other side. You want to make sure you’re relaxed, and the energy can flow. Then the energy in the room shifted, specifically around James as he made contact with the female spirit residing in the apartment.

He started asking questions, requesting physical signs of her presence. A K2 meter sat on the table (it’s not in the picture), and it began lighting up in response to his questions. He asked for another sign, and that bell hanging over the box in the middle of the table rang. Loud. I jumped. James jumped. Michel has nerves of steel, and if he was startled, he hid it well.

Then the dybbuk box on the table against the wall moved. I did some research on those things for a book I’m working on, and let me tell you. Those things are not to be messed with. James swears he’s never opened it, but I promise you, it moved. Whatever is trapped inside that box wants out.

At this point, the non-believers may be saying “Yeah, right. Those objects were rigged to move. A device under the table could have been sending out EMFs on command to make the K2 meter respond.” And sure, that could be the case.

Ginger, my constant companion for 17 years

But then James started channeling. The first energy he noticed was an animal energy around me. He went on to describe my recently-deceased rat terrier so perfectly, there was no denying it was her. He described her behavior to a T. How she favored me, followed me around constantly, and always had to be able to see me. I tried my best not to react to what he was saying; I didn’t want to feed him any information. Then he told me she wanted me to know she understood my decision, and that she was at peace now. Folks, I had to have her put to sleep, and it was the hardest decision I’ve ever had to make. How could he have possibly known that? I never even mentioned I had a dog.

But wait…It gets weirder. Next he picked up on a male energy around me. He described the man as very tall and muscular, and he said he was attached to me. The man he described didn’t match anyone I knew that had passed on, so I just shook my head.

He was trying to communicate with the energy, but he said the man just kept counting over and over again. Counting and counting, almost like an Obsessive Compulsive Disorder. At that point it hit me, but I didn’t say anything. I wanted to see what else he’d pick up on.

He called on the female spirit to help him interpret the energy. First he asked her if the energy was human, and she said no. A pang of dread sliced through my chest at that point, because all I could think was demon. But, no. Thankfully, the female spirit confirmed it was not a demon. The energy was friendly.

If it wasn’t human, and it wasn’t demonic, what could the energy have been? He asked the female spirit, could this energy be a manifestation, created by me? She confirmed.

Now, James knew I was an author. So jumping to the conclusion that I may have created the energy seems like a logical step. And the male energy he described is an exact match to a book character I created. A book that I have been editing for the past two weeks.

He described Logan, the hero from To Catch a Spirit, a book that was published years ago. The publisher went out of business in 2015, and I only recently decided to rerelease the story. Logan has an anxiety disorder and OCD, and writing him was a way for me to come to terms with my own anxiety disorder. One of the things Logan does to quell his anxiety attacks is to count: strokes of the mop, lines on the highway, books on a shelf. Whatever is there, if he’s having an episode he counts.

How could this tour guide, whom I’ve never met, know about a character from a book that’s no longer published? I registered for the tour under my real name. I write under a pen name. Even if he did look me up beforehand and figure out what I wrote, I’d think he would have read a book that is actually available if he was going to try an pull one over on me.

It’s crazy, friends. I don’t know what else to say. He picked up on a character that had been occupying my thoughts for weeks. A person who doesn’t exist anywhere but my mind. Again, I ask: How could he know?

Could there be a logical, rational, non-paranormal explanation for all of this? Probably. But what if there isn’t? I personally prefer the “what-ifs” to the mundane. Life is a lot more exciting when you’re open to possibilities.