I apologize, I’ve been sincerely slacking on recording my paranormal ventures. Moving to a new state sure does keep you busy. I will make a conscious effort to write more frequently.
In February my aunt Wendy and I went to visit the Berkeley Plantation in Charles City, Virginia. I didn’t find much information in regards to the paranormal aspects of the place before we left but that was all well and good with me as I enjoy being surprised. It is a beautiful place to visit. The historical aspects of it are well restored and kept and the information they provided in regards to the plantation land, owners, and visitors was very detailed and interesting. I highly suggest a tour for both history and paranormal enthusiasts.
When I first arrived at the plantation I was eagerly anticipating an overwhelming calamity of paranormal activity. Much to my surprise, I felt nothing as I entered the first building. There was some time to spare before the main house tour so Wendy and I took off to take a quick look around the property. Beautiful landscaping even in the winter I must say. While the land was breath-taking, there was no overbearing presence to speak of. I must admit I was a bit disappointed in this fact. With so much history I was truly expecting more, forgive me for the term, liveliness among the spirit world. It’s times like this that I tend to doubt myself and the validity of my past experiences. Silly, I know, as these things don’t happen on cue, but occasionally I feel this way. Just as I was accepting the fact that perhaps everyone around here is at peace, which really would be for the best, we came to a small building next to the main house that I immediately took as the servants quarters. It had no markings telling of it’s history, only a sign that said do not enter as the house, we could tell, was under major renovations. I felt oddly repelled from the house as if the building and I were magnets of similar polarity. Of course feeling like this made me want to get closer. The closer I got the more forceful this feeling became until I got right up next to the house and the feeling suddenly went away. I quickly glanced over the entire building when my eyes were drawn up to a second story window. I was a bit taken aback when I noticed a woman sitting on the window sill looking right at me. As I’ve mentioned in previous entries, most of the time I don’t see spirits as I would see someone on this Earth but I see them instead in my mind’s eye. This was exactly the case. She was so very sad. I could see it on her face and her body language and I could feel her overwhelming sorrow. She was very pale with dark hair and was wearing a grey dress and looked to be in her twenties. I looked back at Wendy with wide eyes and when I looked again at the window she was gone. I explained what just happened and we attempted to take some pictures but nothing was captured. She asked me what color dress the woman was wearing and at first I was hesitant to say as, again, I was doubting my own validity, but when I finally told her she laughed. She said she did some research about the plantation’s paranormal history as well and she came across many stories of people encountering a woman in grey. I felt a bit less crazy after that. I felt even less crazy when, during the tour of the house, we came across a portrait of that very same woman on the wall above the mantel. I learned her name was Elizabeth. She was part of the Harrison family that once owned the plantation and she died in her early twenties from a common illness for that time. It was a shock that what I had just experienced was almost immediately verified and I was elated to feel that validation. Very shortly after I had seen Elizabeth Wendy and I were headed toward the main house for the tour when I could have sworn I saw a little boy poke his head out from behind the building, then go back behind it. I asked Wendy if she saw it but she hadn’t. Then he came out from behind the building and ran behind a tree right next to it, poking his head out as if he was very curious but very shy. I encouraged him to come out and told him it was okay, in my head mind you, but I could feel that he was comfortable right where he was. I wondered what his name was and pondered the fact that I’ve never been able to get a name from a spirit before and it is always disappointing when I heard a breathy “H” in my head. I repeated it, encouraging whatever was trying to be said. Then I heard “Henry.” “His name is Henry!” I told Wendy, smiling. I got a name! I was thrilled. I told Wendy about the little boy and she announced that it would be okay if he wanted to follow us around because we’re friendly. Would you believe he took her up on that? I felt his presence occasionally as we toured the plantation and saw him one more time balancing on a tree stump near the river. He was wearing pants cut off below the knee with what seemed to be knee high white socks and brown shoes with a button up coat and little cap. He was a servant’s child and a very happy little lad. My last experience happened at one point while Wendy and I were walking along a long gravel road toward the river. We were talking about a couple we’d toured the house with. The man was, let’s say, not exactly smarter than a 5th grader and we were having a laugh at his expense when I felt the presence of a man and woman walking closely behind us. I cringed as I turned around, expecting our fellow plantation tourists to be at our heels overhearing us poke fun, but there was no one there. I turned back around and kept walking, still feeling a man and a woman close behind. After a few minutes they faded away and Wendy and I were alone again. Just when I thought I’d had enough of a paranormal adventure for one day, Wendy and I were headed out to the car when I noticed the air was almost cloudy in the wooded middle of the circular driveway. I mentioned to Wendy how I found it odd that it was foggy only in that area and she looked at me as if I had two heads. She looked at me, then at the area I was referencing, then back at me and shook her head. According to her, the air was clear just like the rest of the property. I took a look around. The rest of the property was clear. It was just the area of trees right in front of the main house that was not. Wendy didn’t see it. The best way to describe it is that it was dense but dissipating, almost like smoke. I tried to take a picture but it showed nothing. Then it came to me. It was smoke. For a brief instant I saw men in grey uniforms laying in the grass, muskets at their sides. They were civil war soldiers. Then they, and the smoke, were gone as quickly as they came.
Overall, I must say this was one of the most validating experiences I’ve ever had.