Haunted Robinson State Park?

Feeding Hills is a section of Agawam MA that plays home to Robinson State Park.   It’s a quiet place that hosts both summer and winter activities on roughly 900 acres that hug the Westfield River on the north.  There are hiking trails, a pond and picnic area for family recreation, and miles of trails to hike, bike, walk, sightsee, and just take in nature’s beauty.  Robinson State Park also offers no place to go that you won’t feel alone.

For me, many years ago, it was a great place to take a textbook and homework to study in quiet. The problem was that it never seemed to be quiet – or calm.  There were noises, not like those made by other people in the park, but soft rustlings.  Sometimes one could hear whispers. Nothing intelligible, just loud enough to be disconcerting as there weren’t enough people around to make them.

Staying focused on study was sometimes difficult.  It seemed as though something or someone was watching you.  You know, the old ‘hair on the back of your neck standing up’ and all.  It felt like eyes were staring right through you.  Did whatever it was have something to say?  Did they – or it – not want you there?  Was it just to get your attention?

Perhaps it could have been any of those things.  At times, one could catch a glimpse of something moving through the trees.  Nothing definitive, only a fast black shadow rushing between the growths of the forest.  For those of you who aren’t big into seeing black shadows, there’s something else for you, too.  On occasions, a white wispy figure could be watched flitting in and out around the water’s edge.

Years ago there was a rumor that a woman was found dead along the side of one of the roads in the park…her body just left for someone to find.  Did this really happen?  I don’t know, but there is something restless in this area.  It seems like it wants to let you know it’s there without being too obvious.  Just enough to heighten your senses, put you a little on edge, and perhaps remind you that your end may just be your new beginning.

–   ashanta

Advertisements

Haunted Wachusett Dam & Reservoir

We hear about Quabbin Reservoir a lot, but little has been written about the Wachusett Dam and Reservoir.  That project was the first to confiscate land, homes, and properties to create a larger water supply for the thirsty residents of Boston.   Quabbin was the second and larger water supply, carried out by politicians, to give water, and themselves, the comfort they needed at the expense of others.

The Wachusett Dam and Reservoir Project was begun in 1897 and completed in 1905.  Four towns in Worcester County, MA became the target of the land grab.  Clinton, Spencer, Boylston, and West Boylston forfeited over 4000 acres to create a roughly eight mile by two mile water basin for people living on the east coast of the state.

Hundreds of people lost their homes, their livelihoods, churches, stores, their land, and their cemeteries.  Houses, churches, and factories were moved, but mostly they were razed.  It is said that over 4000 bodies were removed and some re-interred in St. John’s Cemetery in Lancaster.  There is an isle in the reservoir named Cemetery Island.  It’s the site of the initial St. John’s Cemetery where many residents were buried.  I wonder, though, if some that had passed on were perhaps laid to rest on a family property, as was sometimes the case back then – what happened to those remains?

These people being forced to move lost a way of life they were familiar with.  Many didn’t know where they were going. They didn’t know what to do.  They no longer had jobs and they had no way to provide for themselves.  There was no government assistance at that time. Residents could no longer go to their churches to seek solace.  Visiting those that had passed on may not have been as easy anymore, either.  After exhumation, coffins were stacked on wagons six high.  Tombstones were carried away, too, but some were lost or broken along the way.  And, how did they identify who went where?

This event has been mostly forgotten today, unless you live around that area.  The water for Boston laps the shores around Boylston, West Boylston, Clinton, Spencer, and Cemetery Island. It still harbors the energies of those who used to call it home and of the many who died working on the construction of the dam and reservoir.

Like Quabbin, this area seems to have a different energy.  It feels haunted by emotions of the past.  Black masses that cannot be explained are seen by some.  Lights have been observed meandering around the trees on Cemetery Island.  Shadows are seen walking in the area. Whistles that seem to come from the water can be heard.  It has been said that if you hear a whistle and return it,  you’ll get an answer.  This is not a residual energy….it’s an energy in the here and now.  Intelligent responses imply there is still active energy existing in the area.  Some have even heard disembodied voices.

It doesn’t seem fair.  Boston gets water and others get loss and hauntings.

– ashanta

Please see our other article on Quabbin  published as:

A Reservoir that Has Created More than Drinking Water

Christmas, Solstice, Hanukkah

Just want to wish all of you celebrating, or just finished celebrating, this holiday time, gratification, satisfaction, and happiness.  Also want this coming 2019 year to bring you good health and a life full of spirit(s)!!

Happy Holidays,

ashanta

A Thanksgiving Wish

Really want to wish all of you a very happy Thanksgiving.  I hope you have a wonderful day.  Please put out a vacant place setting for any friends or relatives who may want to stop by and share this time with you once again.  Hope your day is warmed by the presence of those who have gone on before and chose to come home to be with you on this family day!

–  ashanta

 

The Haunted Half Mile

There is a certain area on a local dirt road where I’ve heard of several people that have had paranormal experiences. The one thing that really got my attention was their stories were very similar to something I have experienced myself and written about before.

I have spoken to some of these witnesses and found all of their stories have at least one thing in common: a feeling of being followed by something from the forest along the side of the road when walking. I believe this is likely a spirit or, at least, something out of place, possibly from another realm-dimension.

I had been planning for a few months to check it out and had decided the best time to try and make contact would be at Samhain, when the veil between life and death grows thin. I was going to bring a small group with me, so as to get everyone’s input, but as things worked out it wasn’t to be. So, I gathered up my K2 meter, recorder, and laser grid pen and started out on my adventure alone.

The information I had gotten from various people about where their experiences occurred covered an area of about a half mile in length along a particular road. My plan was to walk this section of road, see where and if I felt anything, and, if I did, set up my circle of protection to work from.

I arrived at the location in the late afternoon, a bit before dusk, and got out of my car to begin the walk. As I started walking my imagination started taking over. I then realized what was happening and had to stop to ground myself before continuing. I did this because I wanted to be sure that anything I picked up on was not tainted in any way that I could help. In the beginning all I noticed was a dog barking in the distance, but then something seemed just a little different to me. I can’t describe exactly what the difference was, but somehow it was as if I were isolated in my own space separate from the area around. As if I were in a bubble.

I stopped for a moment, noticing how silent things seemed, and really listened hard, but this intense silence persisted. I had the feeling that if someone were nearby yelling to me I would still hear nothing. I live out in the country and can tell you it is often quiet at night, but never like this.

As I continued on things gradually returned to normal and nothing more happened as I reached the end of that half mile stretch and turned around to return to my vehicle. I didn’t have that experience of extreme silence on the way back, although I stopped numerous times to try and recapture it.

Near the end of my walk I felt I was being watched. I didn’t get a feeling of being menaced, just observed. I stopped to the side of the road and pulled out my K2 meter to try and get a reading. There was a spike for a few moments, but that was all. I heard no answers to my questions when I played back the recorder, but the battery had died shortly after I started using it. The thing was I had replaced the batteries just before leaving the house. Were they defective? Maybe, but I don’t believe so.

I got back to where I was parked and decided to cast a circle of protection about 20-30 yards down the road to work from as I attempted to communicate with any spirits or other beings in the area. I surrounded myself with protective energy as I reached out and let my mind open to discover what I could, and hopefully communicate.

I received no information other than feelings of sadness, loss, and anger, but mostly sadness and loss. I decided to leave then. When I started my car, as I looked down the road I saw someone walking towards me. I continued watching for a minute and then turned on my headlights. No one was there!

–  Bran

Cryptids in Connecticut Part 2: The Melon Heads

In the rural back woods of Southwest Connecticut a group of outcast creatures characterized by small, sickly physiques and topped with unusually bulbous heads are said to lurk in the shadowy sidelines, possibly waiting for the next unwitting or lost hiker to enter their grasps…and, later, their stomachs.

Known as “Melon Heads”, locals have reported sightings of these strange humanoid beings around Fairfield and New Haven Counties since the late 1960’s. Milford, Trumbull, Shelton, Oxford, Monroe, Seymore, Weston, Southbury, and Stratford, Connecticut have all been said to be home to Melon Heads, but what or who are they?

One story is that there was an asylum for the criminally insane in Fairfield County which caught fire allowing some inmates to escape. These (presumably) men and women decided that roughing it out in the wilderness, despite the harsh New England climate, was still better than imprisonment and took to the surrounding woods. But, Old Man Winter is no kind soul and the prisoners found themselves eventually resorting to cannibalism. The survivors, outcasts who were mentally deranged and unfit for society, established themselves deep in the Connecticut woods. Years of inbreeding and cannibalism is said to have caused these people to de-evolve. Mental deficiencies and physical abnormalities including hydrocephalus, a condition which enlarges the head due to fluid retention around the brain, were widespread producing a sickly population with a shocking bobble-headed appearance. Locals and the occasional thrill-seeker spot their diseased descendants to this day. The unlucky ones, urban legend says, may end up in the Melon Heads dinner pots.

Another version describing the origins of Melon Heads claims that a colonial family from Shelton-Trumbull was accused of witchcraft and run out of town. This ostracised family were forced to set up camp far away from civilization. Deep in the woods they were forced to provide for themselves by subsiding on whatever they could forage or trap. Harsh winters and rugged terrain led to poor nutrition, and possibly cannibalism. (Banishment) led to incest and over time compromised genetics led to a group of regressive, humaniod beings who still dwell in the forest.

Oddly enough, Connecticut is not the only state to harbor the Melon Head legend. Similar stories are also found in Michigan and Ohio.

–  Moonchild

 

Not Gone and Not Forgotten

We were asked to investigate a house in Eastern Central MA a bit of years ago.  The people had lived there for about five years and had noticed, what could have been, paranormal activity,  but it wasn’t anything bothersome.  All the noise seemed to concentrate on the second floor of the home.  There was nothing aggressive or frightening about it.  It was just something that was always present and persistent.   It wasn’t until they started talking about doing some renovations to the place that concerning things started to really kick into action.

The most perplexing things were loud, pacing footfalls in the upstairs.  The area around the hallway where the staircase went to the second level seemed heavy and that’s where most of the noise came from.  There was also a lot of rapping on the two bedroom walls.  The people occupying both bedrooms thought the raps were on their specific inside walls.  But, if one person in one bedroom tapped on their inside wall the person in the second bedroom, next to it,  didn’t hear it and vice versa.

We decided to try and contact anyone who could be upstairs. We got a response from the energy who identified he was a man, but he wouldn’t give his name.  He did say he wasn’t happy with his situation and he wanted people to know he was there.  He also said he couldn’t seem to find his way out.

With little else to go on, we started examining the house.  There seemed to be an anomaly in the upstairs space.  It didn’t match the downstairs house in the amount of living area being used.  The knocking always sounded like it came from the middle of the house just above the staircase.  After listening, walking around, and measuring, we came to the idea that how the two middle rooms were situated they really didn’t abut one another.  There seemed to be an empty space between the two bedrooms that was unaccounted for.  Since we had no intention of knocking down walls or breaking holes into them, that seemed like all about we could do at that time.

The owners decided to have an engineer and a construction expert come in and evaluate the house’s structure. Both of them concurred that there must be an empty space between the two bedrooms.  The owners wanted answers and the work began.  The outside wall facing the staircase was taken down.  There they found another room between the two rooms being used.  It was another bedroom.

The oddest thing about it was that it was left just the same as if someone might still be using it.  The bed was made, the bureau had personal items on it and the drawers were full.  The closet was ready for the occupant to get up, get dressed, and start his day.

After getting over the shock of that discovery and taking care of the situation, the owners said the house seems happier now.  And so are they!

—  ashanta

A Haunted Historical Site – Keystone Arches

One of the things I love about the area I live in is that there are more than a few haunted locations in the Chester, Middlefield, and Becket areas of MA. One of the places that come to mind most people have probably never heard about – even though it has an important place in American history.

The story begins in the mid-19th century. Boston could no longer compete with New York in the transportation industry because of the Erie Canal, which had opened in 1825. New York offered traders and manufacturers access to the expanding Western frontier by way of the Great Lakes. To remain relevant, Boston had to overcome the main obstacle between itself and the young nation’s interior, the Berkshires. The mountains blocked any reasonable chance for a rival canal.

Railroad technology was still young, but the promise was evident. So for dreamers, planners, and engineers, the challenge boiled down to one question: through the mountains or over them?  Investors conceived another route that would utilize the natural gorge cut by the Westfield River on the eastern slope of the Berkshires and the path of the Housatonic River on the west. Investors decided to go over them and build a railroad access.  A series of 10 bridges had to be erected in the rough terrain to create a suitably straight route along the Westfield River. The project was agreed on and started in 1839. It was completed in 1841.

What happens next is what, I believe, leads to the activity some people experience now if they visit the Arches. To accomplish this massive project, the railroad had to employ large numbers, (up to 3000), of laborers.  These men were mostly Irish immigrants who were sought as they were very poor and willing to do the hardest, most dangerous labor, for very little pay. Research tells me those brave men were paid approximately $10 to $15 a month for work no one else wanted or dared do.

Living conditions for these workers were bad as they lived in quickly erected shanty towns also known as squatter areas. Their shelters were constructed of any scrap materials they could gather. Often times during construction workers died either accidentally or due to illness. These deaths were never reported.

Many times while hiking to view these lost stone arches, I have personally experienced what sounded like hammering, and shoveling, and I’ve heard voices mumbling.  Could these men still be working and living in those terrible conditions hoping to leave soon?

–  Bran.

 

A Haunting or A Lingering Energy?

We’re still fairly new to the Quiet Corner of Connecticut.  This area got its nickname because this is a fairly rural area.  It’s a very rural area if you’re used to suburban living with everything you need just down the street from where you live.  Around here, groceries can be half an hour away.  We’ve found, also, that some of the ‘quiet’ comes from the fact that unless you’re born around these parts, you’re always an outsider.  Conversations are kept polite and stories about ‘happenings’ only come from other transplants that still haven’t been completely taken into the fold.

We bought this place out of necessity.  Our other house sold quickly, we had to move out even faster, and there wasn’t a lot of inventory on the market at the time.  The first time we saw it in person is when we moved in  —  Unless you find an exceptional real estate agent,  not motivated only by the vision of commissions dancing in their head,  this method is not recommended.

The surroundings here are quaint and quite pretty.   Wildlife, and I mean the forest kind, is abundant.  And crime is low on the scale – which is a nice thing.  The energy here, though, is odd.  It doesn’t have a good flow and it’s not an even flow…there’s a strangeness about it.  It’s something that was difficult to put your finger on until a couple of months ago when something may have become plausible.

Someone from another town told us of an accident that happened many years ago somewhere in the vicinity of this house.  If it wasn’t our house, there are only three others it could have been.  We’re all lined up on the same side of the street.

A child was on her bike and started heading down the driveway.  These houses sit on the side of a mountain and as such, the driveways are a nasty pitch upward from the street out front to the rear of the houses.  The road out front is the only major route connecting area towns to major highways.  The child could not stop at the bottom of the driveway and careened out into traffic.  Traffic couldn’t stop in time.

In the short time we’ve been here there have been three or four major crashes right around the front of these houses.  Two have hit our retaining wall that abuts the sidewalk.  The last one split the utility pole next to our driveway into two pieces.  A truck flipped over on its side in front of the next house down from here.   Our neighbor right next door, who we partially share a driveway with told us that a couple of years ago a car took out three utility poles right in front of both our houses….

I can’t help but wonder if the tragic event that took that little girl’s life so many years ago didn’t create an area of negative energy that precipitates other accidents.  Negative energy could certainly be created by such an horrific situation that affected so many lives.  The child may not know how to leave the area or find her way to a different plane.  When she feels she is able to pull someone to her that may be able to help, another accident happens.

I also wonder if this negative pocket of energy hasn’t existed in this particular part of town for a very long time causing many accidents over decades that go unremembered or recorded.  This thing almost feels as though it waits and claims what it wants when its energy starts getting low.

I’m not sure if the little girl can be helped or if any of this energy can be mitigated, but have decided to try and reach out to both and see where it goes from there.  It’s a start.

–  ashanta