As they say in the X-Files, the government disavows all knowledge of what I'm about to relate to you.

In 1943 the USS Eldridge was outfitted with special equipment as she sat in a Philadelphia shipyard. The purpose of this equipment was to achieve radar invisibility using high powered, counter rotating electromagnetic fields. As far as it is known, nothing special was supposed to happen that day. So when the Eldridge literally vanished it was something of a shock for all concerned. When she reappeared fifteen minutes later the skeleton crew aboard were vastly changed men. Some were insane. Most were dead - some halfway materialized within the solid bulkheads of the ship. And two had an extraordinary tale to tell. These men swore they had jumped overboard from the Eldridge in 1943, and found themselves in Montauk, New York on August 12, 1983. It took a great deal of effort, but eventually the men were returned, the entire incident covered up, and it is now the subject of conspiracy theorists worldwide.

In 1993 I knew nothing of these events. I had never heard of the Philadelphia Experiment except in a passing reference to a movie title. But that spring I moved to Port Jefferson, Long Island in New York. And I began a strange ritual. Every free moment I had, I started to drive hours to the extreme end of the Island. Montauk. I did not know why. I parked and began to look for something. I didn't know what. It's actually a very pleasant town, a little sea-side touristy village on a wild sweep of exposed land. There's a beach, a few hotels, lots of T-shirt shops, and a perfectly beautiful lighthouse.

Time and again I went back to Montauk. Believe me, it was not a drive made lightly but I felt compelled to return. Time and again I found nothing. I didn't know where to look, only that whatever "it" was, it was there. To my chagrin I never found it. I didn't know of the "secret" military base hidden in the forest, or of the bunkers now filled in completely by concrete. But I know beyond all doubt it was that base I was searching for. I don't know why, but it was calling me. It calls me still. Even as I sit writing this I can feel it, like a siren. Why would a person like me, with no influence, be called to a place such as Montauk? There is only one reason I can think of. Because I am one of the few who has the ability to hear that call at all.

Two years ago, at the age of 34, I was diagnosed as being bipolar, psychotic and as having Borderline Personality Disorder. In short, I'm insane. They estimate I have been suffering from these disorders from my late childhood. I was always the unusual child - best in my class, but always seeing things in a different way. So creative I could understand the pattern, perceive the connection miles ahead of my classmates. And there was never a question of the supernatural. It was all around me. I would practice moving things with my mind (I never accomplished it, but I never stopped trying), I would talk to spirits to pass the time. I developed the ability to detect energy, both "positive" and "negative" and how to gather energy in one spot. I learned later that others considered this practice "magick" and started concentrating my talent in moving that energy from one place to another (in other words casting spells). It was a natural leap to ghosts.

In 1996 I moved to New Orleans and immediately fell in love with the history of the city. It was colorful and violent and filled with rich tales of dangerous and amazing people. One organization in particular called to me. Instead of the standard tour company, this company went into actively haunted buildings, taking people as research assistants, and documented any incidents that occurred during the two and a half hour expeditions. On other occasions we were hired independently by individuals who believed their homes to be haunted.

Hauntings are easy to detect. An entity will tend to concentrate electromagnetic energy in a single location which can be traced as it moves. It also tends to affect temperature, either raising the area around it by approximately 10-15 degrees or (far more common) dropping the temperature 20-30 degrees. This too can be traced as it moves. There are other means such as photographic or sound, but these are the most common.

There are two distinct types of hauntings; active and residual. Over 95% of all hauntings are residual. The residual haunting is caused by repetitive motion; a milkmaid walking a path every day or a troop of soldiers hiking along a certain road. If the action is repeated often enough in the exact same way, it is possible to leave a measurable trace of energy behind - the residual haunting. It is usually in such cases that you see ghosts walk through walls, or even in some cases, through people. They do not interact with their environment.

The active haunting is terribly rare. They are, in short, dead people (or in some cases even animals). They sometimes do not know they are dead, but they are aware of their surroundings. They can move about from one location to another, even following people home once they are encountered. I have myself had one or two follow me home from work, but the best examples of active hauntings I have ever encountered were in the Bourbon Orleans Hotel.

The Bourbon Orleans used to be a huge ballroom, then became a convent. During that time a huge yellow fever epidemic struck the city and the children seeking refuge in the convent succumbed to the plague. Only a small space of the original ballroom, where the children slept, remains. But it is there where the most remarkable haunting may be found. At least seven children have been documented in that room, making it one of the most active in the city. As groups were brought into the ballroom, women would report one hand suddenly becoming ice cold, the feeling of a tiny hand suddenly in hers . It became easy to predict who would be picked, for the children were poor and often of color. They would orient toward the ladies of color in the group, or women with dark hair. It would also be possible to watch items in the ballroom move, such as the crystals in the wall sconces, even the massive chandelier would swing to and fro as we watched. And yet there was always a feeling of peace in that room, as though the children were delighted to see us - to have someone to interact with if only for a brief time.

For something of an adrenaline rush, there was always the seventh floor. There could be found several very active entities, including a Civil War general. It was a small room in a converted attic, with barely enough room to fit a group inside. On the far wall were three doors. During one memorable encounter the group was able to circle a dramatic "cold spot" in the center of the room which, if touched, felt like a live wire being passed through you. On another evening all of the doors, which had been locked, violently opened to the sound of an exploding gunshot.

Incidents such as these have followed me all my life. I am so constantly surrounded by the supernatural that I consider it perfectly normal. The only thing that makes me different is that I have taken the time to become involved with people willing to document the evidence, to work with scientific equipment and to attempt to use a method to explain or at least chronicle the events with something of a passive eye. But even among the group, there were trends that could not be ignored. We did use the talents of psychics, both of whom were bipolar. Of the other four, I had yet to be diagnosed but was suffering from the symptoms I described above. One was, like myself, Wiccan and an active magick user. Of the other two, one had a degree in parapsychology, but never admitted mental illness. The other, his wife, also seemed "normal".

Do I believe there is a link to the supernatural and mental illness? Most definitely. It is like the call to Montauk, that which can not be explained any more than it can be denied. Extraordinary becomes ordinary to one who can see in a different way, whose eyes may have been opened to a unique perception. And in these days of super drugs fighting back the illnesses, I feel we are losing the very abilities that make us so unique, we are losing the siren call that only we few can hear. And if not we, then who?

Lisa Hall,
Lady BD.
caesarsiamese@yahoo.com

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