Read Devil in the Delta Online

Authors: Rich Newman

Tags: #Mississippi, #devil, #delta, #ghost, #ghosts, #ghost hunting, #ghost hunters, #paranormal investigation, #paranormal investigator

Devil in the Delta (2 page)

1

My Background

As I mentioned in the introduction, at one point I lived in a home with a mild haunting—more of a quirk, really, in retrospect. But long before that, I was born and raised in St. Louis, Missouri.

Though my family wasn't particularly religious in those days, my experience with God and the Devil was pretty much a sterile one: we would (on occasion) visit a grand church, listen to what the clergy had to say about the subject of the day, and then go about our daily routine with the threat of Hell hanging over our heads as a moral compass of sorts. For the most part, this system worked. It was straightforward, everyone knew right from wrong, and there was just enough fear to keep us from veering too far off the path of normalcy.

It was when I visited family in southern Missouri that I would experience … religion … of a more unique nature. My maternal grandparents were, for lack of a better church affiliation to attach them to, Pentecostal, and attending their congregational gatherings was always an unsettling event.

Whether it was people speaking in “tongues” or the preacher performing a faith healing on somebody (Why do they always have to slap them on the forehead?), something always baffled me. What were the snakes for? Why is that woman yelling gibberish in the middle of church? (I got in trouble for doing that.) But, perhaps, the most disturbing thing of all for a young person to digest was the idea of “deliverance.”

For those who do not know what a deliverance is (and I'm not referring to the movie), think of it as a sort of poor man's exorcism. There are no grand rituals with priests in robes or chants in Latin. Oh, no. A deliverance usually involves a person flopping on the floor while other parishioners hold him or her down, with a lot of yelling and pleading (by the preacher and the afflicted), and numerous pleas for Satan to leave the possessed person alone. Then, miraculously, the person will suddenly stop fighting, stand up, and declare that he/she is now “free” of the Devil. It was never an extremely believable event from my point of view, but I certainly gave them points for showmanship.

At the time, what I didn't realize I was being taught, though, was that a deliverance held a certain, specific implication: that the Devil was actively involved in the
everyday life of people and interacting with them in horrible ways. And while I may have had little to no faith that these preachers were actually banishing Satan from the allegedly inflicted, there was certainly some lingering fear that such a thing could be true—that the Devil could be all around us.

But even with all of these bizarre events, the most disturbing thing to me during my trips south was how these same so-called religious people acted away from their church. Whether it was the carefree, racially charged discussions around the dinner table or the general atmosphere of suppression and domination that seemed to exist in every household (especially toward women), nobody seemed particularly pious or holy to me. But, boy, they went to church, so all was well in the world, right?

Because of this hypocritical approach to life (not to mention religion), I quickly became jaded concerning churches and those who professed to be religious—and, as a result, the ideas of “Heaven” and “Hell” suddenly became ludicrous to me. Did we really need some make-believe place to reward and punish people? Wasn't that happening all the time right here on Earth? Besides, I always thought it was letting too many people off the hook too easy that they could “repent” about doing horrible things and then, in the blink of an eye, be absolved of all the wrongs they had done. How convenient for all the horrible people of this world.

Despite this bleak outlook concerning organized religion, though, my belief in God remained. To me, there is simply too much evidence of a higher power to dismiss such a thing. I mean, look around! And if anything is obvious in life, it is the fact that there are opposites for almost everything. So it seems perfectly logical to me that if we have “good” people on this planet, that we must also have “evil” people. And if we have God … well, there must be
something
on the other end of the spectrum. Call it the Devil, a demon, or whatever.

In addition to believing in God, I also developed a basic belief in the afterlife. This, too, has little to do with any church or religion. Basic experience—as well as the experiences of others I know and trust—dictate that such a thing is entirely likely. Besides, tales of seeing and hearing ghosts are prevalent all over the world. Literally thousands have reported experiencing them. And what are ghosts if not human souls lingering in some type of afterlife? This line of thinking has prompted me to spend much of my life seeking out haunted places.

Early Ghost Hunting

During my teen years, my family moved to a small town in southeast Missouri called Scott City. It was significantly more rural than St. Louis, but quite metropolitan compared to the area my grandparents lived—though that isn't saying much. And like most small towns, there are a lot of reputedly haunted places.

As is still the case today, often the biggest challenge involved with researching and performing a paranormal investigation involves figuring out what is
really
a haunting and what is simply urban legend. Today, computers and the Internet are a significant help. But back then, figuring out a true haunting was not so easy.

Some of the ghost stories that circulated the region were easily debunked with little more effort than spending some time at the location—such as the case of the notorious “Green Eyes” in Cape Girardeau.

This particular “spirit” is said to haunt the historic Lorimier Cemetery and is often witnessed as a pair of green eyes that's seen peering from behind a tombstone. Over the years, the place (in addition to supposedly being quite scary at night) evolved into a popular make-out spot for teenagers. Though I never made it to the cemetery in that regard, I did make a point of looking for old Green Eyes there. This (technically speaking) was one of the first investigations I ever did with one of my current investigative partners, Mike.

The two of us spent a long night tramping through the wet, dew-covered grass of the cemetery searching for the spirit to no avail. Then, from out of nowhere, there they were: two perfect glowing green eyes staring at us from the darkness. With flashlights in hand, we carefully crept toward the thing … until the eyes disappeared. Then, moments later, we saw them again. So we started toward the spot again … and they disappeared. This went on, over and over and over again.

To make a long story short, the eyes turned out to be nothing more than car headlights from a nearby street reflecting off a green marble tombstone. Quite disappointing actually. But it would be these types of stories and legends that would send me and my friends tramping through fields, rummaging through the ruins of old homes, and hanging out in abandoned buildings. And, other than the occasional cheap thrill, these places never provided any paranormal evidence of significance—with the exception of one trip.

A high school friend, Tim, and I were actually on a double date when we happened to drive through an area that had a reputedly haunted cabin. I say “cabin,” but it was actually the remains of a small, wooden home. When I mentioned the haunted locale to everyone in the car, the girls squealed with delight and wanted to go see this sight. So we found ourselves, four teenagers, roaming the weeds and thickets surrounding an extremely unsafe structure in the middle of the night.

From looking through the cabin's windows, it was obvious that the floors had fallen through, so nobody went inside the place. Instead, we broke off into pairs and slowly circled the property looking and listening for anything that might indicate the presence of a ghost. Within minutes, boredom set in for everyone but me and conversation started to intrude on the ghost hunting (a situation that still happens to this day). Then I heard something. It sounded like low, male moans coming from inside the cabin.

I shushed everyone and called my date over. She strained to listen and soon heard the same sounds. Tim, along with his companion, circled to the other side of the house and quickly decided that they, too, heard a strange sound coming from within: a set of female wails. Now everyone was suddenly not quite so bored.

We would listen to the strange sounds for about an hour before leaving. As we drove back into town, we discussed the event. The final consensus was that we had either heard the sounds of spirits trapped in the cabin or that there was another couple there on a date somewhere we couldn't see—and they were doing better romantically than we were!

The strange cabin, though, was definitely an exception to what usually happened during my nights of legend tripping. And while these adventures may not have given me the ghostly experiences that I craved, these trips did manage to stoke the fires of my paranormal interest. Around this time, more and more documentary-style programs about ghosts were appearing on television, too. As a result, I began to learn more about ghost hunting and how to discern a true haunting from simple legends.

So it seems only natural that I would eventually get bored with life as a casual ghost hunting enthusiast and get involved with a more formal paranormal investigations group.

Paranormal Incorporated

After high school and college, life would intrude upon my desire to chase ghosts. It would be many years before I would discuss my intention to research the paranormal again with my original ghost hunting buddy Mike. It all began by looking at area ghost hunting groups in Austin, Texas (my home at the time)—and, not finding investigators that seemed to have the same line of thinking as us (no psychics, no religious extremists, etc.)—I brought up the idea of us forming our own paranormal group. Like me, he was enthusiastic about the idea, though neither of us knew exactly how to approach such an undertaking.

In the end, I decided to co-create the group Paranormal Inc with Mike for several reasons: I was interested in the paranormal, I wanted some kind of confirmation of life after death, and I was bored. The undertaking of hunting ghosts seemed like a logical cure for all these afflictions.

Along with my brother Brandon (who joined with us a few years later when we relocated to the Memphis, Tennessee, area), Mike and I have since investigated many of the region's most well-known haunted locations. The three of us are pretty much the entire group, though we have no problem with working with other area paranormal organizations—and have, on occasion, teamed up with other investigators in large locations.

We approach an investigation with a scientific slant; if we can't capture and document an occurrence, it didn't happen. Personal experiences are great—they're the very things that motivate us to keep exploring the unknown—but in the end, if we do not get any evidence of the activity occurring, then we cannot support the theory of that location being haunted. Of course, that doesn't mean the place is
not
haunted. We have learned the hard way that ghosts don't perform on command and even the most active locations can go belly-up on you during an investigation.

Sticking with this scientific method of investigation, we also do not use any psychics. Though many investigators swear by them—and a select few individuals may actually have these abilities—there simply is no way to know what is truth and what is fabrication when a psychic provides information. To this date, I still have not found a single psychic willing to submit to a true challenge of their abilities. Not one. Until that happens and a psychic is proven to be authentic, Paranormal Inc will not be using them.

On the religious front, I am pretty much an agnostic. There is a built-in conflict of interest with organized religion/churches; mankind is supposed to avoid sin and the things that lead to sin, such as money and power, but these are the very things that most churches are founded upon.

I also cannot patronize an establishment that blatantly refuses to recognize facts that have been established by the scientific community—such as evolution and the creation of the universe. Until organized religions are able to reconcile their belief systems with science, I believe that more and more people will turn to other avenues to satisfy their spiritual needs (like investigating the paranormal). So, needless to say, we do not involve ourselves with anything of a religious nature during our investigations.

But, as I said earlier in this book, I grew up a Christian and attended a multitude of different church environments, and as a result, I still have a built-in fear of the Devil and Hell. It angers me that it's there, but it is, indeed, there—good old Christian guilt and fear! At any rate, the point here is that my goals and methods concerning the paranormal are all scientific. This is an important fact to know as you read the details concerning the cases in this book.

Loving a Good Scare

As you've probably figured out by now, I have had a close association with ghosts and hauntings from a very young age, and I have always been interested in great, scary stories—especially those that are about ghosts. And since I have been hearing ghost stories since I was quite young, it's no wonder that I would turn to the paranormal for answers to life's biggest questions.

Whether it was my urban relatives in the north or my rural ancestors to the south, they all had one thing in common: they, too, all loved a good, scary story.

Many a night in my youth was spent huddled by the fireplace whispering tales about things like family curses, a “friend” who once was haunted, or even creatures who stalked the night. These hushed yarns were always purported to be “true” and they always happened to somebody that was personally known to everyone.

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