Paranormal Nation

by Marc E. Fitch

  In The Shining, a little boy keeps having recurring visions of all the tragic, violent, and untimely deaths that have occurred in the Overlook Hotel. In the basement, his father finds remnants of the past—receipts, pictures, and newspaper clippings from the decades during which the hotel was open for business. During its time of abandonment, however, there are only empty spaces where the history and life that had come and gone through its walls lay dormant. Unfortunately, the effect of the Overlook on King’s characters is negative and maddening, but for the rest of the nation it appears that the prospect of ghosts roaming legendary hallways and stalking storied rooms is a draw that is helping to drive a new tourist economy.

  It was a living sound, but not voices, not breath. A man of a philosophical bent might have called it the sound of souls. Dick Hollorann’s Nana, who had grown up on southern roads in the years before the turn of the century, would have called it ha’ants. A psychic investigator might have had a long name for it—psychic echo, psychokinesis, a telesmic sport. But to Danny it was only the sound of the hotel, the old monster, creaking steadily and ever more closely around them: halls that now stretched back through time as well as distance, hungry shadows, unquiet guests who did not rest easy.7

  Punderson Manor sits atop a hill overlooking a large pond in Ohio’s Geauga County. It is a large English Tudor surrounded by a golf course and a state park that bristles with tangled roots from small, twisting trees and thickets that line the pond. Inside, a grand spiral staircase, a chandeliered dining room, a bar room, and numerous books and leaflets outlining the manor’s haunted history can be seen. A young black girl who drowned in 1977 is sometimes seen emerging from the dark pond outside the manor; a woman is seen descending the spiraled staircase at night, a disheveled bearded man appears at the foot of guest beds only to disappear into the walls, and a ghostly image of a man hanging from the chandelier remains for three hours during the night, finally fading with the onset of morning. These are some of the stories that make up the history of (or the haunting of) Punderson Manor.

  Upon our arrival my Uncle John, a deputy for the local town of Burton, tells us stories of how the park rangers and police patrol the grounds at night to watch for possible or potential suicides. “There’s something about the place,” he says, “people go there to off themselves. No one knows why.” He then tries to bribe the manor staff for a key to our room so he can play a hoax on us during our three-day stay. Uncle John may have been pulling our leg with his stories of suicides, but his stories came from a true place—a part of human nature that inherently blends reality and fiction, eventually creating a legend and assigning mythical importance to an ancient place. I could only find two stories about suicides that were associated with Punderson Manor; one concerned a former owner who supposedly used a bathtub to float into the middle of the lake and then pulled the plug, and another story was of a man who was prevented from killing himself through police intervention. Such stories, however, are common to state parks, as they tend to be secluded areas, and there are often cars there after dark.

  Over the years Punderson Manor has added new facilities to the original Tudor-style building. There are updated rooms in the new section, a part of the manor that hasn’t yet had time to develop its own haunting stories. However, it’s easy to see how the original building developed its history and inspired stories; it is in a quiet, secluded location surrounded by thick brambles and a dark, heavy forest, which also surrounds a nearby pond; inside are the spiral staircases and vein-like hallways that lead to octagonal sitting rooms filled with old books and furniture. The psychological effect of the old construction is enough to keep you looking over your shoulder, but there is something more in the hallways, rooms, and dining halls; there is some sense of life and history that manifests when you are alone in the corridors. Like King said, it is the sound of “the old monster creaking steadily and ever more closely…” It creeps into our stories, our legends, and our knowledge of all the history that has come before us.

  Bill Ellis dissects the haunted history of a set of ruins known as Gore Orphanage in nearby Huron County, where an orphanage was supposedly burned to the ground in a fire, claiming all its children. While the ruins were actually that of Swift Mansion, Ellis describes the significance of this place to the development of oral history and legend.

  Although literal-minded historians might conclude that the Gore Orphanage legend is a collection of alcohol- or drug-induced visions and borrowings from other adolescent legends, in fact the Swift Mansion was the ideal place for urban history to resurface in oral tradition. Already associated with the tragic deaths of children and with the return of their screaming, restless ghosts, its secluded nature and the ominous sound of the road’s name suited it well for the purpose. But by transforming a real fire into a legendary one, teenagers simultaneously changed history into archetype.8

  THE GHOST TOUR

  At the Queen Anne Hotel a crowd of about 30 people is gathering in the lobby. They talk in small groups, relax in ancient, high-backed chairs, and admire the craftsmanship and artistry of the antique woodwork that can only be found in buildings that predate the twentieth century. My wife and I tour the lobby, noting the ornate woodwork and the quality of work that cannot be found in modern hotels. The Queen Anne began as an orphanage and over the course of a century became a high-end Victorian hotel. Not only did it become a high-end Victorian hotel, but it gained a reputation for being haunted; and the 30 people milling in the lobby (ourselves included) have come to find out more and go on an official walking ghost tour of San Francisco to see all the legendary haunts of the Golden Gate city.

  A woman announces that anyone taking the ghost tour should meet in the main dining room—an open, carpeted room with flowing window curtains, a chandelier, and tables with coffee and tea. We take our seats at a round table covered in white cloth and make small talk with other couples around us. The guide enters and introduces himself to us. His name is Jim Fassbinder—a tall, charismatic man whose height seemed far greater with his top hat, cape, goatee, and long, wavy hair. He has dressed the part for the paying audience; he looks like a gothic, ghostly crypt keeper or perhaps a ringleader at a circus of the macabre. He speaks with a mysterious booming voice and informs the audience that he is more than just a tour guide; he is, in fact, a paranormal investigator—a member of several different paranormal organizations and a bit of an actor. His charisma and storytelling ability are put to full use to entertain the crowd. He gives us several guidelines during the tour, along with instructions not to use flash photography at certain locations because the present owners, who are quite wealthy, have come to regard the tour past their homes as an invasion of their privacy.

  We actually begin the tour at the Queen Anne Hotel. Jim gives a history of the location, including the reports that have developed over the years of ghostly encounters, glowing orbs, and general bumps in the night. We are then invited to explore the hotel on our own and take as many photographs as we please.

  The Queen Anne seems amazingly compact and complex at the same time, and it is easy to see how one could see ghostly figures and hear whisperings. Its ancient rooms and doors, long narrow hallways and odd corners are the perfect combination for dark imaginations and experiences. Jim then gathers us together, and we begin walking the steep inclines of San Francisco for the next three hours. Jim is never without witty comment or an entertaining story. His tour doesn’t consist of just ghost stories; rather, it includes stories of San Francisco, the history of a beautiful city. The haunted tales serve as the vehicle for the drama of the city to unfold. Along the way, he reveals the most frightening aspect of the tour—the real estate prices! We stop at places of history and legend; houses that make up the dark side of San Francisco, including a house where a famous stabbing occurred, the place where a woman discovered her husband’s body in a barrel, and the home of Mary Ellen, the Voodoo Queen of San Francisco—a slave woman who became the richest, most powerful person in San Francis
co in the eighteenth century—some say through the black arts, voodoo and blackmail.

  The tour was fascinating. It was an oral history of San Francisco, a three-hour trek through some of its most historical and legendary haunts. Anyone who has attended grade school has heard of Harriet Tubman, but who has heard of the slave who took over San Francisco, utilizing the most devious business skills ever known in corporate America? All the places on the tour are currently occupied by private, mostly wealthy citizens or, in some cases, a business that wants nothing to do with the paranormal. But, how much of this dark history would be lost without the ghost tour? Not too many people want to advertise that their home was the site of a famous double murder, but these events, however gruesome, are part of the city’s history. The city is more than just the stone it is built on, and the ghost tour serves as an oral history that can be passed down to the next generations through the tourism industry.

  San Francisco’s haunted places are not limited to just the houses on the tour. The city itself, much like many other cities across the United States, has an abundance of reputedly haunted areas that double as tourist attractions. San Francisco, for example, has Alcatraz, an abandoned army hospital, the Golden Gate Park, and the Bay Bridge, where a headless man supposedly appears beside cars. Indeed, the city seems littered with haunted landscapes; a walk near the Golden Gate Bridge would reveal a hidden history that manifests itself in eerie ways. Small mounds of earth reveal dark stone doorways behind grassy overgrowth. They were used as storage bunkers for munitions during the wars that found their way to the West Coast. The hills are steep and guarded over by tall trees like sentinels, and a fog rests near the pathways and ammunition bunkers. It all makes for a haunting experience with or without macabre stories.

  This is not unique to San Francisco, though. Across the United States, cities are developing ghost tours as part of their tourism industry. They combine the history of the city with the supernatural to generate business and revenue. The city of Savannah posted revenue of $1 million in 2007 on ghost tours alone,9 and towns such as Salem, Massachusetts, have their entire tourist industry based on the paranormal. Even tried and true tourist areas have been exploring the paranormal as a means of generating more revenue. Gettysburg, aside from being one of the most visited historical places in the United States, is also considered to be the most haunted place in the United States and boasts several ghost tours to spice up the family experience. Some cities, such as New Orleans and Salem, also include vampire tours, and many of these paranormal tours have been featured on the Travel Channel and the Syfy Channel. There are also extensive websites dedicated to ghost tours and brochures advertising ghostly adventures.

  All in all, the paranormal has built up the tourism industry in major cities and tourist destinations. The obvious appeal is the mystery and spooky, macabre fantasy. Rarely are any of the tours in bright, happy locations with happy ghosts; they are, instead, the sites of famous murders, mysteries, and executions. However, it is the fascination with these macabre events that is preserving these sites and histories. Cities and tourist locations are using mystery and the burgeoning fascination with ghosts to generate new interest and the money necessary to continue their historical missions and preserve these sites. The difference is fairly easy to understand; which sounds more interesting to the average tourist—a tour of classical architecture in a city or a ghost tour of a city with supernatural legends, murders, and stories? More and more often, the ghost tours are winning out.

  THE SCIENTISTS

  For being one of the world’s leading and most recognized UFO researchers, Stanton T. Friedman is surprisingly a devout humanist. Talking with Mr. Friedman, I noted immediately that his assertion that alien life forms are visiting earth went hand in hand with the belief that we, as humans, could be so much more than we are. Researching the UFO phenomenon is like researching the future path that humanity should take, but more than likely will not.

  Friedman has become the face of the UFO movement, and with good reason. Friedman boasts an impressive education and background, which makes him a credible researcher and formidable debater. He received both his bachelor of science degree and his master of science degree in nuclear physics from the University of Chicago. He then went on to work for several companies, including General Electric, General Motors, and Aerojet General, developing nuclear propulsion systems for rockets and spacecraft. Many of these projects were classified at the time, and Friedman was in the unique position to have top-secret clearance. However, in the late 1950s, at the height of the flying saucer invasion, he became casually interested in flying saucers, largely because of the scientific implications of space travel. “I thought, maybe if UFOs were real, they were using nuclear power for their craft.”10 Thus Friedman began his study and interest in the flying saucer phenomenon, and he became not only a believer, but a lecturer, author, and expert on the subject. Using his background in nuclear physics, Friedman postulates that it is possible and, indeed, evident that earth is being visited by extraterrestrial life forms that are much more advanced than we are.

  Mr. Friedman has made a career out of studying flying saucers. He is careful to distinguish between flying saucers and UFOs; a UFO is only an unidentified flying object and, in reality, could be anything ranging from a meteor to an earth-bound aircraft. But flying saucers are unique to the UFO phenomenon in that they always remain unidentified and the definite shape of the crafts is indicative of design rather than some kind of natural object. Since his entry into the study of UFOs, Friedman has lectured at over six hundred colleges and universities around the world and appeared on numerous television programs, including several appearances on Larry King Live.11 He even has his own holiday in Fredericton, New Brunswick: August 27 is Stanton Friedman Day. He was recently the subject of a short film entitled Stanton Friedman Is Real,12 which provided a behind-the-scenes look into Friedman’s world. Although some may doubt his findings, few doubt his integrity and tenacity. With his trademark beard and winged eyebrows, Friedman has managed to become a major player in an overlooked industry—the UFO industry.

  “I don’t get paid when I go on the Larry King show,” he says. “I have to wake up at 4:00 a.m., catch a flight to Los Angeles, take a car over to the studio, and do the show. They pay for the flight and the hotel stay, but I’m not being paid directly. It’s not easy or fun. If I’m lucky I’ll stop and have lunch with my daughter who lives out there. Then I take a flight back home; it’s not all that glamorous.”

  However, Friedman does get paid for his books and lectures. He is, by all accounts, prolific on the lecture circuit, and at 73 years old, shows no signs of slowing down. Upon discovering how much universities were willing to pay for a guest lecture in the 1950s, which is when Friedman began lecturing, he was amazed and, by his own admission, thought, “Well, maybe this is something I can support my family with.” However, it should not be assumed that the prospect of making money indicates fraud; if this were the case, there wouldn’t be an honest person alive—scientist, ufologist, or otherwise. Money is not indicative of fraud, but it is indicative of an industry. There is money to be made through the research and belief in UFOs, and Friedman has made a career out of tapping into that industry.

  He has been called “the flying saucer physicist” and has been referred to as an evangelist for flying saucers, but at the basest and most cynical viewpoint, he is ultimately a salesman. This does not mean that he doesn’t believe in what he’s selling; by all accounts Stanton Friedman is an honest man. And it doesn’t mean that he does not know nearly everything about his subject material; few people have spent as much time researching presidential and government records as Friedman has. But in order for him to subsist and continue his work, he must ultimately sell. He is selling himself to those who believe or want to believe and to those who need reassurance that their beliefs are valid. Liberal individuals will say that all beliefs are valid, but not so in the scientific community. The primary difficulty facing thos
e who believe that the earth is being visited by extraterrestrial beings is not the public scrutiny, because, as Friedman often illustrates, a majority of the public is open to this idea. Their greatest hurdle in trying to find legitimacy for their beliefs comes from the scientific community. While Friedman insists that many scientists actually agree that there are alien life forms visiting our planet, they are surely the unspoken, invisible minority because, by and large, the scientific community appears to reject this theory. It is not only the research scientists in related fields, such as astronomy and physics, but the attack-dog skeptics who have devoted their lives to destroying this belief. People such as Philip J. Klass can be unscrupulous in their attacks on citizens who may have experienced something they do not understand or who genuinely claim to have had an experience with a UFO. Thus, many people may be hesitant to come forward with their experience.

  Furthermore, in a technocratic society where much of an individual’s credibility is based on the degrees conferred upon him or her by higher institutions (apparently, as proof that said individual is intelligent, capable, and sane), someone who lacks degrees and experience in “science” may feel woefully inadequate to defend his or her beliefs against the skeptics. This is where people like Stanton T. Friedman or the late J. Allen Hynek become such valuable resources for those who have either had an experience with a UFO or those who believe that extraterrestrials are visiting earth. His experience, intelligence, degrees, and ability to take massive amounts of data and turn it into theory renders a sense of legitimacy to the community of believers. He is unafraid to debate the skeptics and scientists who might otherwise use their technical experience and prestige to browbeat the average Joe or Jane.