The Journal of the Maine Paranormal Society

     And  then there were five. The numbers game is not for the faint of heart. If we really worried about how many of us there were, or in this case, were not, we wouldn’t be able to get anything done. But instead of dwelling on the recent losses, the team presses on.

As I write this, the team tunes out to “I’m Awsome” on our way to Auburn. I smile as I think of the different characters that make up the team and how they  embrace who they are and what they can and can’t do. I do want to acknowledge the team members that have drifted away due to challenging times. Some happy, some difficult. But either way, their presence with the team will be remembered fondly. Every personality is valued. And MPS wishes them good health and happiness in the future.

I guess for me this is a status check. I never got to introduce and describe the other members of our team. They are long gone now. The amount of time, energy, and money that needs to be put into paranormal research is staggering. In the face of starting a new family or a buisness, its impossible.

I am almost afraid to introduce you to our newest member. Hes not someone the team wants to lose anytime soon. Chris is bright and  alert to a fault. Nicknamed “T” for Trouble as hes always the quietest one in the group until a little window opens up for some friendly instigation. Hes in and out in a flash. As the poo flys, Chris is back to his silent position with a look of fresh innocence on his face. Try as he might, hes unable to block me. I can see and feel the ‘shuffling’ he does to maintain that poker face.

All joking aside, hes got some serious questions about the paranormal. He saw first hand the effects of a loved ones brush with spirit. The gravity of the experiance is ever present as he digs in and works as hard as the rest of us. There is no back seat with Chris. Its full on…..or not at all. Hes so dedicated, hes taken on the role as Researcher. Since we haven’t had anyone in that spot for a few years, its hard to fail. (Hey, his words, not mine)

Here is the best part. My favorite part any way……..he writes! So now there will be two names appearinig in this journal. I am excited you will see not ony through my eyes, but another’s as well. So without further delay……Here is Trouble.

     As a ‘newbie’ to the MPS team. I’ve had quite an eye opening journey thus far. Having always been very curious about the paranormal, I’ve never looked at it through the eyes I now see things with. I’ve always been interested in the paranormal for purely selfish reasons, mostly my own truth.

Anytime in my life when I’ve brought up the paranormal, I’ve been given that sideways glance. I get the question “You believe in that?”. The question is mostly followed up with a few jokes at my expense, and a good laugh. But once the laughter stops, out come their stories of the paranormal. Something that happened to them when they were younger or something that happened to a family member or friend.

Until the success of the show, it wasn’t exactly socially acceptable to chase spirits. So I carried on solo until after a fluke conversation with a roomate. I found out a mutual friend was part of MPS. After a few brief conversations, he introduced me to the team. I thought…..”I’m home”. Its an eclectic group of different people with different beliefs and one goal. The great thing was they didn’t laugh at me. Well, let me amend that, they didn’t laugh at my paranormal stories, most of which I keep close to the vest. Like I said earlier, I’ve learned alot so far from this team, but I’m still after my own truth. Its something everyone must find in this wide ranging field.

I have never investigated anything to document it. I did it for my own personal experiances. Through the success of the show “GhostHunters” and joining this team, I’ve learned there is much more to it. Part of it is the vast array of equipment used. Some of its so simple you may find it in your own desk drawer,  a  flashlight, voice recorder, and camera. Some of its a bit more technical, EMF detectors, K-II, thermal camerasm and IR cameras. It was a bit overwhelming watching the team set it all up the first time, but I’m getting the hang of it. I’ve even been promoted to tape against the better judgement of some team members.

Part of it is the client you go to help. Its not enough to just go to a home to document the ‘bumps in the night’, the people who call upon us seem to want peace of mind. After all it is their home. For us its an investigation, a chance to capture evidence. For the homeowner, its everyday life. From my short time with the team, I can see that helping people is one of the highest prioritites, as it should be.

There is no one example that exemplifies this more than my first investigation. It was clear from the moment we walked through the front door that there were many factors at work in that home that would lead the home owner to believe they were not alone. It was almost scary how not alone they were in that house, and I don’t mean paranormal. But the team set up and did as full an investigation as humanly possible under the conditions we had to work with. Since it was my first investigation, it was an evaluation of me, but just as much, I was evaluating the team. Apparently, I passed because they still let me hang around.

My first conversation with Randi was tension filled and strained. As I go through the routine questions asked, I can feel her  dig her heels in and make a stand. When I get to the medical history, she describes a family history of ADHD,  Bipolar,  intercranial pressure/shunt in the left temple and eye disturbances. Yes there is use of pain medications. Her voice raises a notch and she explains. These paranormal events have happended all her life. Various people around her have experienced it as well. Regardless of the location she was living in. Her young son even started seeing two soldiers and animals early on.

I explain that our only concern in these cases is that a medical condition is ruled out first. With many bizarre symptoms of illness and different side effects of drugs , its rule #1 to put the health and well being of a client first. She agreed and repeated she just didn’t want us to automatically think its not paranormal because of the medical issues of the family. I tell her what the founder says all the time. A past medical history doesn’t exclude a person or family from paranormal activity. I was hoping she would feel a sense of relief, but none was felt. I certainly understand her fear of being dismissed because of the issues she spoke about.

When the topic of electrical wiring and EMF (electromagnetic fields) came up, it was clear why she found no comfort in my words. She described wiring issues, appliances turning on and off for no obvious reason. Again, her voice raised a notch. She explained she wanted to be able to point all of this stuff out, so she could show us its paranormal, not just EMF levels. She repeated past experiences that occured before she lived in this home.

I ask her what we ask of every client we work with. Can all but one occupant leave the home so we can do a thorough, unbiased investigation. The anxiety was obvious, she wanted to stay with us to explain why its paranormal. She was familiar with TAPS and knew we were a TAPS Family group. She expected us to go in looking to debunk. I confirmed this with her, but also added, we love finding things we cannot explain. Our goal on our first investigation is to get a good baseline for the home and property. As far as EMF levels go.  The question of what comes first, EMF or paranormal activity, is like asking what comes first, the chicken or the egg.  Research is still ongoing. And this is where being a science based group comes in handy. The team would love to get a baseline on the home with its EMF levels. Then return at a later date to investigate with the main breakers off. Its a habit of ours to return to a site on more than one occasion.

Our date set, we said our good byes. I sat back wondering if this would be a difficult case. Randi’s anxiety and concerns are well founded. But the team works the same way, regardless of these issues. I gave a run down to the pillars of the team. Jim responded as I expected. “Medical issues don’t exclude someone from paranormal activity.” I laughed and explained I did tell Randi that very same thing. Holly, JJ and Luke all felt it was an interesting case with lots of potential. As I expected, it was full steam ahead.

A few days before the investigation, I spoke with Randi about final details and arrangements. They were going to a hotel the night of the investigation. I found myself talking to a different Randi, relaxed and joking. I was encouraged. Maybe she did indeed find reassurance in my words.

We arrive in Carmel to find Jeff waiting for us in the driveway. A pleasant man with a wide smile. He invited us into his home where we met Randi and her son. Educated, easy going people with robust southern accents put the team at ease. We were on a tour of the home in no time.

Jeff and Randi headed out. She called back over her shoulder. “Make yourselves at home, help yourselves to snacks if you want.”

I watch her walk out the door. I admire her for her ability to trust us to do an unbiased investigation. I know it was hard to leave and not have input into our findings.

The house is quiet and calm. We set up our equipment and begin EMF sweeps. It becomes very obvious that the levels are high. A 1.4 to a 1.9 runs the length of the home. ( a level of 0.1 to 0.2 is commonly found) By the refridgerator its a 6.0 up to a 9.0 the higher you get. Every room has at least 1 digital clock at the head of the bed. (master bedroom had two) These read 43.6 . The grandfather’s room is small, with high EMF in the hall, a bedside clock and a computer in the room. The levels were the highest in this room.

We completed EVP sessions in the downstairs. When we returned to the kitchen  to do EVP sessions, all investigators felt the effects of the EMF. Headaches, nausea, and skin irritations were all experienced.

“Man my arms itch!” Luke says as he is vigorously scratching his arms.

I sit at the kitchen table feeling my skin crawl on my right shoulder and scalp. I wondered if one of our unseen friends had sidled up to me. Nope, just skin irritation.

No one could get a good feel for the house. The EMF clouded our minds like the stubborn fog of spring. We were in agreement that the breakers get shut off next time we come. Forced to pack up early, we climbed into the car,  each silently dealt with their own headache.

Evidence review had a couple of interesting clips. A few whispers were caught in the EMF epi center, the grandfather’s room. He claims to never feel alone. Feels there is always ‘someone’ there with him. He even describes being shaken awake one eveing. When he woke he found no one there.

Another clip caught our attention. The son, going into the play room to retrieve an item, is heard ‘arguing’ with himself. This behavior was experienced one other time. Concerned for their son, Randi and Jeff brought him to see a psychiatrist. The only diagnosis is ADHD. I talk with Randi about preliminary findings and ask her if her son still sees the same doctor. She says no. I briefly outline the team’s concerns. That its important to rule out medical conditions first. She agrees.

Their main concern is to get their son comfortable with the paranormal events that  happen. Both Randi and Jeff are TAPS fans and would like their son the be intrigued by the science of the field. They want to draw his attention away from the hysteria and hype these events have generated in the past.  Getting him involved in the set up would appeal to his love of gadgets. Dad being a techie will continue to draw him into the level headed attitude the household maintains. We agree its the best way to keep him grounded. She tells me he asks about us everyday. “When are the coming back?……Can I help?” She is delighted by his interest.

I then ask her about writing this blog. I find it important to tell this story. The issues Randi and her family face are daily, life long  struggles.  The stress  and strain of keeping it all together and still moving forward has alot of people giving up. Yet Randi and Jeff’s home was just that, a home. They have her mom and grandfather living with them. A hearty sense of family settles in your soul. They accept each other regardless of the personal challenges each one of them has. Slow but sure…..they move forward in their lives.

To be automatically judged or dismissed because of medical issues or stereotypes is tragic and destructive. The level of anxiety Randi carries with her everyday puts added strain onto an already taxed family unit. She easily agrees with me, saying “go ahead and write”. My reassurances that I will let her proof read first, seems to be unnecessary. Again, her trust is admirable. I am grateful for the opportunity to have met Randi and her family. To be able to write about them is frosting on an already beautiful cake. MPS looks forward to returning to the home for a second investigation.

Unemployed and free falling in life. I find myself wondering where currents in life are taking me. This is not the first time I have had to recreate myself. Deep down, I know it won’t be the last. Although I do wish more parents would tell their kids about this aspect of life. But then I see adults blind sided everyday with a changing world. Divorce, loss of a job, injury and death are all as reliable as taxes. Yet no one wants to talk about them.

With lack of communication our biggest flaw, I never thought MPS would fall victum to this ailing economy. But here it is. A lack of vehicles, no gas money, others working so many hours. They leave their shift at work just to turn around and investigate all night. Family units are stressed to the max. Disagreements and tension fraying the edges.

My view is this: Its not what happens to you, its what you do after it happens. I know it will all come out in the wash. We will be alright in the long run. Each time this has happened to me, I have come out of it a different but better person. I am intrigued and kind of excited to see where I am going. After all, I did ask for a sign if I was on the right path or not. (yikes!) I should learn to be more specific when asking things like that. Suggesting a new job offer to be a great sign I need to change paths would of been more productive. Meh…..live and learn.

I joined MPS for help, not career options. (Volunteer jobs usually don’t put bread on the table.) I found myself with some not so invisible friends. Seeing spirit as solid as you or me is mind blowing. And when you work alone on a 260 acre horse farm, its downright unsettling.

There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t question who he was or why I saw him. I was changing a horses blanket at 11pm. As I stood up from securing a blanket strap, I saw him pass by the stall. I noticed the horse lift his head and track the movement of this person too. I thought someone was in the barn. Being alone with no form of self defense, I ducked down and scrambled close to the wall. I peeked out the door but saw no one. Sliding the door open, I looked the length of the barn, again, no one. I searched the barn and came up empty. At that point my brain punched its time card for the day and on autopilot. I cruised out of the barn and headed home.

No spidey sense tingled. There was no feeling or warning that he was anything but human. I diligently asked the farm owner if anyone had stopped by, left a note, or even called saying ‘sorry I missed you’. She said no. I described the visitor. She didn’t recognize the features.

I worked very hard to ignore events like this. It wasn’t something I cared to pursue. But the experiences just got more vivid. Getting my hair cut at an aunt’s house. I had only been there once before when I had met the aunt for the first time. On that occasion her and my mother chatted away. On this night, mom could not make it. I sat quietly while she cut my hair.

I noticed a ball of light outside the window, above the kitchen sink. I watched it, up…..and down. Like someone was throwing a ball into the air, catching it, and launching it right back up. My aunt asked me to hold still. Oooops! I didn’t realize I had been watching it that intently. I wondered what I was suposed to do in this situation. How do you bring up the topic of ghosts?  Throwing caution to the wind, I asked her if she had a family ghost.

“Sure, doesn’t everyone?” She casually replied.

As soon as I had spoken. I got a picture in my mind of a man in a plaid shirt with tan coveralls. He lifted the handles of the wheel barrow, put it down, and lifted his hands shrugging. This made no sense to me. I struggled for meaning and finally in frustration. I asked her if they were working on something in the front of the house.

“Yes. We are putting in a walk way across the front of the house.” She answers.

Ok, progress. This was a message for her, not me. Thats why it made no sense to me at all. I decided to go for broke. “Whats wrong with the wheel barrow?” I innocently ask.

“Its got a flat tire.” She absently answers. Shes cutting and combing. Her hands slow and eventually stop. “You see him?’

“Maybe.” I add

She continues with my hair. Again, we are in silence. Once done, she sends me to the bathroom to see the new do. As I enter the hall I see one of those mini tables, just big enough for a phone to sit on. I move closer for a better look. I have always wanted one. As I get ready to ask her where she got it, I realize its moving. As I take a step backward, I see its a leg from the thigh down. Its knitting together like sand filling a clear plastic mold. I have asked enough questions to know a spirit showing itself in solid form is a high honor. One I wanted no part in. I turn and leave the area, not caring what my hair looked like.

As I beat  a hasty exit I glance into the den. There he stands, at the fire place, pointing at it. That one made my feet stop. It was fall and time to start lighting stoves and fire places. Was he warning of a chimney that needed sweeping? I asked her why he would be pointing to the fire place. She walks over, stands in the exact spot he stood, and points to the very same spot he was.

“The mantle is cracked. We have plans to fix it.” She answers.

I move my feet closer to the door. My body is co-operating, but my mind isn’t. “Why would he be pointing out all the repairs that are needed in the house?” my mouth betrays me.

The calm, quiet facade cracks and I see a tear. Crap, I think.

“My husband said he would fix these things before he left. He just up and packed his things today. I don’t know what I am going to do.”

With very little life experience on this topic, I was at a loss for words. I see something out of the corner of my eye. An image of a white candle buring in the window is taking shape in my mind’s eye. I ask her what the meaning of this is to her.

“Peace and love.” She sniffles.

“I would say he’s trying to tell you you’ll be just fine.” Again, my mouth betrays me.

She smiles and finds comfort from a source unknown to me. She returns to her cheerful self and chats about bumps in the night. Is it him? Why does he do it?

Again….the mouth. “Just talk to him.” I hear myself say.

I watch her mouth move but I don’t hear her words. I wonder why she accepts this experience without question. It seems perfectly normal to her. The practical side of me asks, was this all something she projected into the environment?  Or was this really communication with a third, some what unseen, being? I force the brain to punch ye old time card and I say my good byes.

This aunt never spoke a word of it to my mother. I have seen her once since the incident, at a funeral. No mention of it there  either. I am still asking why it was accepted so easily.

I happened across TAPS one night as I was channel surfing. I saw Eastern State Penitentiary episode. Seeing Jay and Grant moving toward shadows and noises, I was standing on my seat yelling “No!” “What the hell are you doing?!” I watched  the episodes for a couple of weeks. Trying to understand why they would do this. Slowly the science of it sank in.   

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                               Its not easy for me to accept these events.  I am the type of person that needs to know why, how. To be honest, I saw how much they debunked. The hope of being debunked blossomed in my mind.  After some research, I learned there was a TAPS Family group in Maine. They were speaking at the Dyer Library in Saco. So I set out to ask for help. Again, I find myself facing people that are more accepting of these events than I am.

“Your a sensitive.” Came the answer.

“I don’t want to be. If you know of anyone that can help me, can you introduce me?” I pleaded.

The founder at the time just laughed. “It doesn’t work that way. But we will let you know.”

As I turned to leave. I find myself face to face with Jim. (Our current founder) He was an investigator on the team. I had worked with Jim for several years on the fire dept, never once speaking of this topic.  At the same time, we both said “I never knew you were interested in this sort of thing.”

Two weeks later, a reply came from the team. An offer to join them. As I tried to explain that I didn’t want this. The team explained that it just doesn’t go away and the best way to deal with it is to educate yourself and in a way, get desensitized to it. They also encouraged me to stop watching the majority of the ‘ghost’ shows on tv.

Here I am, going on my third year with the team, working as Case Manager and Pulic Relations. I have gotten my Reiki II certificate and between MPS and practicing Reiki. I am slowly learning whats what. Sometimes I am still disapointed I wasn’t debunked. But other days….its magic. I get thoughts, feelings, memories, and sometimes direct quotes from Reiki clients. I am now getting that from team members without laying a hand on them. When a gentle breeze flutters something by I send out a text message to the team member I feel. There are some surprizing results.

The fear of being wrong or looking like an idiot is fading. Now on investigations, if I feel the energy is there, I say so. If I feel its male or female, I say so. To get confirmation of this with an EVP is still mind boggling. My logical side says brains and bodies work with an electrical system that sends messages to different body parts and muscles. There is a muscle memory. Being able to sense and move that energy already. I assume my body and brain just interprets the ‘data’ in the other person’s energy.

In the process of all these questions and investigations I have found a practise that has given me inner peace. In a physical world where I am unable to normally process the sense of touch, I have been given a way to interact with people around me thats more comfortable and less stressful to me. Maybe that in of itself is an answer. When one sense is lost or malfunctions, the others get stronger.

I watch and feel the ebb and flow of the team’s energy. I know they are good people. Kind hearted and hard working, they honestly care about each other. They really enjoy each other’s company.

Scary times will always happen. Although some attention needs to be paid, its not whats important. The people you encounter while walking this path is the source of comfort. Someone to sit with you when your feeling low. Someone to give you a ride on a cold winter’s night.

Free falling is the best place. Its the one time you are truly in the present, enjoying the company around you. Absent is all the job stress and money issues. With every decision you make, you chose who you are. I am confident my team members will always chose to be a friend to each other. And in that one decision, it makes us Maine Paranormal Society.

The comfort I gain from my new friends and team members will help me through these scary times. The guidance my feet have gotten from my unseen friends will get me where I am going. I am starting to wonder if they were guiding me to a new career all this time.

Twas a few days after Christmas and all through the house, not a creature was stirring. Not even a Ghost. The stockings all hung by the chimney with care. Warm thoughts of St Nick still fresh in the air.

Well, thats how it was supposed to go. Plagued by two back to back snow storms. The e-mails were pouring in. The question of the day. Are we still going on the investigastion or not. Our fearless leader Jim caught a weather report that predicted a dusting in the Southern Maine, New Hampshire area. The report I saw predicted snow by the foot. With the first priority always the home owner. I gave Wendy a call to see what she wanted to do. Her family was vacating the home so we could investigate. Their safety was first. She reported her family was buzzing around town regardless of the storm. She had asked her husband if plans should change. He told her he planned to snow blow the driveway then leave for his party whether we went out or not.

“You are Maine Paranormal Society right? Hardy Mainers who go out in anything?” She asked

I recall two of us are/were emergency workers and did indeed go out in anything. So that left it to the boys. After reviewing an e-mail and a short video of personal experiences. The boys informed me they would strap on snow shoes and start walking. (a mere 13hr walk) The other members were on the fence. Our more Northern investigators were getting the most snow. So we encouraged them to stay home. JJ, Luke and I were already in Biddeford. So I told Jim if he wanted to go, drive down here and see how the roads are.

By the time we all gathered at JJ’s house. Luke was MIA with his cell phone sitting on the coffee table. There was no choice but to wait it out. A frazzled Luke blew in the door. Having spent the last three hours on a mission. He had the rug pulled out from under his feet. With no food in his belly and an unsuccessful day behind him. He was snorting and pawing in the dirt. (Why did I feel like I was wearing too much red?)

Already well past the planned departure time. Jim’s hopes of Applebee’s were dashed. He settled for Wendy’s instead. We headed out in the famous red Focus. Braving the winter storm and slick roads.

As we sat down to eat, the digs and comments fly. Warm food was no comfort as we sat in the only resturant in town with no heat. Meal done, we headed out to warm up. Of course, this is the perfect time to quit smoking. Going against my better judgement. I stepped between a smoking JJ and a fire breathing Luke. We got in the car and (of course) headed to Walmart. Luke returned to the car first muttering about herding cats. I didn’t dare point out he was one of em. The last person to get back to the car was JJ. A large iced coffee in hand. He sauntered across the snow covered parking lot.

Feeling better that we were on the road. I was confident I could get us there safely. I headed toward the turnpike. No lanes were visible. But the traffic was light. I was feeling pretty good about our decision. Until the little Focus made it known it wanted to throw itself in front of any passing 18 wheeler. The front end and back end swung back and forth to its own unique rythm. Luke, the helpful, kind hearted person he is, offered advise. “Don’t over correct.” Don’t feather the gas so much.” When I told him the wheel was held steady. He sat back with a strandgled whimper. The back end did a thump and a wiggle wiggle.

“What was that?!” Luke asked shooting forward in his seat.

“Squirrel!” I answer.

Not seeing the humor. He asks again. I calmly repeat. Gas and wheel are steady.   Thump….wiggle wiggle……

“Dude ! Snow tires!” is heard from the back.

“Na…..You get used to it after a while.” Jim shrugs.

I did add, much to Luke’s dismay, that in all my years of driving in emergency situations and disasters. This was the single worst vehicle I had ever driven. Another whimper was heard from the darkness out back. We left the turnpike in hopes of safer travel. On Rt1, slower speeds, less traffic and clear tire tracks made all in the car more at ease. The verbal judo resumed. Jim nailed Luke with a comment. Luke resoonded by pounding on the back of my seat. Scolding him didn’t work. Letting the back end fish tail did. He sat back, crossed his arms and said.

“Oh yeah Shadooooo….what am I thinking now?”

“I don’t know how I feel about this psychic talking. Are you two psychic talking? Jim shakes his head with a wrinkled brow.

“Hey! Hes ripping the heads off my squirrels and kung-fooing them!” I respond.

Luke lets out an evil laugh and turns his attention to the boys. I try to unkink my neck by stretching. Its painfully obvious that I should have a pillow under my butt. No way I was gonna confess that to them. Discussion on whose directions are better and who has the best features on their phones kept the boys busy. With nothing to measure of my own. I concentrate on driving. One turn off Rt1 and the houses become much bigger. One more turn and our jaws drop.

Why is it when you have a one bedroom apartment to investigate you find yourself tripping over 5 investigators. But when you have a 1750s farmhouse with 10 rooms. You only have 4.

Wendy met us at the door and invited us in. Our jaws remained slack as we took it all in. I know some people find beauty in diamonds or expensive cars. But to us, this home was worth way more than those two combined. Thankfully Wendy was focused on the task. She started with the scrapbook she had. The story begins in 1685 with the settlement of the property by the Sanborns. The held it for 71 years until the Perkins family came along in 1756. They held it for 110 years. Even adding a portion of the home bought from a man who was later the victum of a Borden style killing. Wendy is very careful to separate out the facts. Although she has the article of the double murder. She is very specific that the portion of her home was purchased and moved before the unfortunate events.

Even in the 1800s there was house flipping. Purchased for a mere $875 in 1866 and sold back into the Sanborn family in 1867  for $2,000. Dr. Sanborn’s family held the home for 96 years. The trials of life played out across the paper with date after date of births and deaths. A country doctor who traveled to his patients by horse and buggy. Even bringing the sick and injured into his own home. Tell tale marks on the doorways from his wife’s wheelchair still present to this day.

A man whose life was dedicated to the service of others was not spared the tragic events playing out in his on family. Still his sense of humor and calm perserverance was legendary. Articles of his work proudly displayed in Wendy’s scrapbook. Written by Dr. Sanborn’s biggest fan and brother.

Would you ever think that 200 years from now. A group of strangers would be looking at your photos and reading about you in the same house you used to live in?

Just to make sure we were sufficently overwhelmed. Wendy took us on a tour. Room by room, personal experiences were retold. A  full bodied apparition, glimpses of people wearing surgical masks, hearing voices, tea cups rattling, opening  and closing of doors regardless of the locks they had. The best toy the previous owners remember was the pool table. The girls would arrange the balls in a certain way and then go off to play. They always found them in a different spot when they came back to the room.

This was the time of the biggest  renovations and had 4 teenage girls living in the home. The most activity was reported by this family. Although the home is alot more calm these days. Wendy and her husband have had their share of experiences.  Enough to research a taboo topic in a professional person’s life. She stummbled upon TAPS and felt the science based approach fit very well with her beliefs.

Just before we set up. Wendy pointed out the snacks she so generously set out. She also handed out little hand made pouches with the team member’s names on them. Cell phones safely in their new pouches. The boys set up. I did an EMF sweep and got a feel for the house. It felt, well…….just like a home. As a matter of fact. Luke didn’t get the sharp fuzzies once the whole time.

We set about investigating. Sitting on the floor in the dining room where the pool balls were reported to move. No one chose to play. Upstairs seemed equally quiet. Wendy drifted back and forth. Watching the cameras at the com center. She took it all in. As excited to have us there as we were to be there.

Switching it up. I head upstairs with JJ. Soon the snoring begins. The home still felt calm and peaceful. Despite the raging storm outside. Wind rattled the window panes and sounded like an angry ocean pounding the rocky shore. I joined Luke and Jim downstairs. They weren’t having any more luck than JJ and I. They made their way back upstair. I could hear them talking about foot steps. I left JJ to watch over the com center and headed up. No such luck. No one wanted to come out and play.

We packed up and gave Wendy her home back. I noticed she packed up the goodies and sent the boys off in good shape. She definitely gained a spot in their hearts that night. Like tired kids, they climbed into the car. As soon as the little car hit its rythm. They were asleep. The roads were still bad.  But Rt1 was empty of all traffic. An advantage to traveling at 3am. The cops we passed didn’t even feel the need to check in with us. I do dread the day when we have to explain where we were, what we do, and no officer, we have not been drinking. They stayed nestled in their cars. Idling near snow banks.

Thump…..wiggle wiggle. I find myself laughing as I drive. Crazy carnival car swished its way home. As we neared Biddeford. I woke the guys.

“Better wake up if your driving. Theres got to be ice under the snow pack. This car is not handling well at all.” I tell them.

We drop JJ off. Luke and Jim crash for a few hours. Once daylight hits, they are on their way. Our MPS slumber party over. I head to work.

Luke sends out a feel good e-mail. I smile at his good nature. I would like to be able to look back on this weekend with fond memories. Maybe it was the snow storm or the three girls I was driving to Hampton. Possibly the reason I am not. Could be  the evil Ford Focus with suicidal ideations. But then who could forget the hysterical cries from the back seat.

The crushing cramps I had still didn’t have me crying as much as the menfolk. Nor did the pain in my neck from trying to see over the steering wheel of said Focus. The most beautiful sight that night remains the bottle of Advil Luke pulled from his bag.

18hr shift over. Me and my cramps head home. Nope…..still not looking back with fond memories. I might just have to admit the boys got the best of me this weekend. I try to sit and review the audio evidence collected. But my inbox seems to be conspiring against me. One of the e-mails is from Wendy. The wonder and excitement is palpable in her writing. She writes:

“Talking with you and meeting your team has also been such a great learning experience for me. And I am a believer in life long learning…so new insights are always welcome. I feel like I have gained a new way to look at this house, its history, and an appreciation for the families who spent so much time here.”

I smile and think how great this whole experience is. Ok…..maybe fond memories are possible. Thank you Wendy for the positive energy and heartfelt words. For us, its a humbling experience to have y0u share with us something you hold so dear. AND its always nice to not let the boys get the best of me!