The Stories That Haunt Us (16 page)

The next morning dawned clear and bright. Just as the girl and her father were sitting down to breakfast, there was a knock at the door. Hoping her brother had returned, the girl ran to the door to greet him. But Willie did not greet his sister at the door. Instead, a serviceman wished her good morning and handed her a telegram which began with those dreaded words “We regret to inform you…” Willie was dead.

All in the Family

T
his ghost story involves three members of a family in Salsbury, New Brunswick: Lenore, Cordelia and John. Cordelia was well acquainted with ghosts and knew how to deal with them. She saw them all the time and, so we're told, even had conversations with some. She had this special talent, you know. Ghosts sought her out. They seemed to know that when they approached Cordelia she wouldn't scream or faint like some do. “Ghosts,” Cordelia would say, “are everywhere. They pass through us on the street of our fair cities. Remember that cool breeze you felt on the hot August afternoon but there was no wind to speak of…?”

Case in point: One time while visiting her grandmother's grave at a Salsbury graveyard, Cordelia was seated on a bench when she observed a spirit wearing a military uniform looking at her. After many minutes had passed, he finally came over and sat next to her. The ghost asked Cordelia to get in touch with his family back in England and let them know what happened to him. She agreed to help but never did, of course. After all, he was a British soldier killed in the American Revolutionary War. Cordelia figured it was a bit too late to deliver that message!

Cordelia's brother, John, was of a different nature than his phantom-friendly sister. John's haunting began some fifty years ago when he bought an old farmhouse outside of Moncton, New Brunswick. He wasn't settled in for very long when he realized that something was terribly wrong in one room—the bedroom where he slept, as a matter of fact. It wasn't a place of welcome or rest, and he felt like an intruder in it. He was convinced the room was haunted. He never saw anything but he felt like he was being watched. His suspicions were confirmed when one night, while on his way upstairs to bed, he was suddenly lifted off his feet and shoved down the stairs by an invisible force.

Fed up and terrified, John made arrangements to fly to his sister's home in Florida. He needed to talk to Cordelia about what was in his bedroom and how to get rid of it. In the car on the way home from the airport, Cordelia said to her brother, “I invited you down, but you didn't have to bring the spirit with you.” John was confused. “Spirit? I don't feel the spirit. How do you know it's here?”

“He's in the car with us now. He's been trying to drive the car off the road. Watch.” Cordelia took her hands off the wheel and it suddenly spun to the left. She grabbed the wheel quickly to prevent the car from veering off the road.

John's visit to Florida was brief, and he returned to New Brunswick more tired and anxious than before. He had just arrived home when he received a call from Cordelia: “You didn't take the spirit back with you. It's still down here with me!” The ghost never did return to New Brunswick. I suppose it had something to do with the Florida weather.

Pressed by this writer, Lenore, the teller of these ghostly tales, confesses that from time to time she has premonitions. One Sunday afternoon, she told me, she was resting on her bed when suddenly a strange feeling came over her. She felt as though her body was suspended above the bed. Then a voice spoke to her. It said, “When your mother dies, you won't be able to get her coffin up the steps.” Lenore immediately thought that this was silly because the steps were quite wide. Two years later Lenore and her family moved to another home and when her mother died, the undertaker told the grieving Lenore, “I'm sorry but I can't get the coffin up the steps: they're too narrow.”

Lenore says seeing and talking to ghosts and having forerunners visit you is nothing new or strange. It's all in the family. True story.

Going Up?

H
enry hurried across the lobby to the bank of elevators that would take him to the tenth floor of the hospital and to his mother's room. When the elevator door opened, Henry recognized the man standing in front of him as his neighbour, Mr. Harrington. This struck Henry as very strange, as his father had told him just that morning that Mr. Harrington was gravely ill and was in this very hospital, close to death.
He's obviously feeling better
, Henry thought to himself thankfully. Henry smiled and asked Mr. Harrington how he was feeling. Mr. Harrington didn't look at or answer Henry; he simply got off the elevator and started walking down the hallway. Henry watched his neighbour recede down the dimly lit hall.
Very strange
, Henry thought to himself,
very strange indeed
.

Following the visit with his mother, Henry stepped out into the corridor to discuss his mother's condition with his brother. At the other end of the corridor, the men noticed a commotion. Several people were coming out of a room embracing each other.

“Our neighbours, the Harrington family,” Henry's brother told him. “I forgot to tell you, their father passed away only a half hour ago.” Henry stared at his brother. “That's not possible. I met Mr. Harrington on my way up not ten minutes ago.”

“Oh, come on,” said Henry's brother. “You must be mistaken. Mr. Harrington is in the room down the hall, dead.”

Henry gave his brother a confused look. “No, no, I tell you. He was getting off the elevator. I spoke to him, but he kept on going without saying a word. Before the elevator door closed, I saw him leave the lobby. I'll never forget the look on his face—the god-awful look of man who was going someplace he didn't want to go.”

Chains

T
his ghostly tale takes place back in 1913. At that time, Levi Morrow was the keeper of the Wood Islands lighthouse. Like so many others, Levi became an innocent party to a forerunner's ghostly visit. He was awakened in the middle of the night by the sound of someone dragging chains. Not a good sound to hear at any time but especially during the dead of night.

Levi was drawn to the window. When he looked out he was shocked to see Captain Abraham Daley coming over the top of the shed that was attached to the lighthouse. Levi was startled nearly out of his wits. But Levi didn't hide under the blankets mumbling, “Go away, go away.” No sir, not Levi. Instead he stood his ground and called out, ”Is that you Abe?” There was no answer and no Captain Abraham Daley anywhere. So Levi went back to bed and probably spent the rest of the night staring into the darkness.

The following day, Captain Daley, who was retiring, was returning to Prince Edward Island on his final voyage. He had a full cargo onboard including a shipload of heavy chains. Near the mouth of Charlottetown harbour, the ship ran into trouble. The crew was saved, but not the good captain. Apparently as he toppled over the side, he got all tangled up in the chains and the weight took him to the bottom.

This forerunner came to me from the “Keepers of the light,” Heather MacMillan of Wood Islands, PEI. Heather grew up on Maritime Mysteries at her father's knee. She credits the late Mrs. Abena Hume for this Maritime story. Levi Morrow was Abena's uncle.

And the Bell Tolls for Thee

A
lso from Pubnico harkens this mystery of a bicycle's broken bell and what caused it to ring. Howard d'Entremont lives in a house that is over 150 years old. It belonged to his grandfather, Ludger d'Entremont, a fisherman.

Howard's story goes as such: Old Mrs. D'Entremont was hanging out the laundry in the backyard when she was startled to hear a faint ringing noise. It seemed to be emanating from their shed, so she crept closer to the shack to investigate. As she turned the corner, she was shocked to realize that the ringing was coming from Ludger's old bike—a bike whose bell had not worked in years!

It came to be known that, on the very same day, while towing another boat into the harbour, the cable snapped and hit Ludger d'Entremont on the head, sending him overboard to his death. The broken bell of the bicycle began ringing at the precise moment Ludger was killed.

Death Was His Companion

I
t was mid afternoon when I stopped at the Bras d'Or look-off on Route Four. Seated at a picnic table were three couples enjoying the scenery and a snack. I was invited to join them and it wasn't long before they wanted to know if I was writing another Maritime Mystery book, to which I replied “Yes. Hopefully, it will be out sometime in soon.”

“Do you believe in forerunners, Bill?” asked of the picnickers.

“Of course,” I replied. “Remember, I grew up in Cape Breton.” Naturally, I asked why.

“Well,” said the elderly gentleman, “I'll give you a piece of advice. Never try to outrun a forerunner. My friend Murdoch tried and died of a heart attack.” Now I was intrigued and wanted to hear more. I wanted to know exactly what happened to his friend.

“Death was his companion that evening,” said my storyteller. “It was a warm evening and my friend Murdoch decided to walk home from the office. He felt he needed to unwind, and was certain the walk would do him good. Halfway home he heard footsteps behind him. They were faint and distant at first but were steadily catching up with him. When he turned around to see who it was, there was no one there. He thought this was very strange indeed. Murdoch kept on. No sooner was he in full-stride than he heard the footsteps again. But this time they were much closer.

“Murdoch did what few people would ever think of doing. He spoke to whatever was following him. He knew it was of some supernatural force. ‘Is it me you want?' he asked. ‘Is that why you're following me, or is it some member of my family?' There was no reply because death is always silent.

“Murdoch then had a thought. If he could outrun the forerunner he'd be safe. So he ran for home as fast as he could. But no matter how fast he ran, the footsteps kept pace. When he reached the steps of his home, Murdoch collapsed. That's where his family found him lying in a heap muttering about death, footsteps and forerunners.

“The doctor said Murdoch was under a lot of stress and needed complete bed rest.”

My storyteller shook his head and went on. “Poor Murdoch never had a chance to get well. Just before drifting off, he heard three knocks on his bedroom wall and he barely had time to turn his head toward the knocking when life left his body. The forerunner had caught up with old Murdoch in the end. Death always does.”