by Bill Jessome
Willie and Annie grew up together knowing that one day they would get married. But first, Willie needed to save up some money for a house for them to live in. Though he hated the thought of leaving his Annie, and he worried that some handsome young man may come along and court and marry her, Willie was determined: he decided to head to Boston to make his way.
The streets of Boston were not paved with gold and Willie found it hard to save for the home he planned to build back home for Annie. Meanwhile, Annie saved what she could from her job at a local Liverpool store for their life together. The young lovers wrote to each other regularly, dreaming of their reunion. When he was not working, Willie would walk the streets of Boston looking in all the shop windows. One day, he happened upon a beautiful gold brooch in the shape of a rose with a diamond in the centre. He wanted it for Annie more than anything in the world, but he knew he shouldn’t spend any of the money he was saving for their home. Ever determined, Willie managed to save enough money working a part-time evening job to buy the brooch. He sent it home to Annie with all his love. When Annie received the gift she wrote and told Willie she would treasure it always.
Willie worked in Boston for three more years until finally he had saved enough money to return to Liverpool, marry Annie, and build their dream home on the outskirts of town.
Willie and Annie loved children, but sadly they were unable to have any of their own. Willie’s six year-old niece, Martha, spent a lot of time at their place, becoming almost like a daughter to them.
One day, Annie discovered her brooch was missing. Annie thought Martha may have been playing with it, but when she and Willie questioned their niece, the girl denied playing with it.
The missing brooch caused an argument between Annie and Willie. He thought Annie had been irresponsible by leaving it someplace for Martha to find. Angry words passed between the two—the only serious argument they ever had. They never found the brooch, and it remained a quiet bone of contention, always there in the background during even their happiest times together.
Two years later, Martha died from a childhood illness. Willie and Annie missed her very much and often thought of her.
The years passed and Annie and Willie remained devoted to each other. Willie watched his love finally slip away and die of consumption. To honour her memory, he always kept a light on in the house and always set the table for the two of them. He visited her grave regularly and always kept a fresh supply of flowers in a wooden vase he made and placed on her grave. He was as devoted to her in death as he had been in life.
On the way home from the cemetery one day, Willie had an uneasy feeling. When he got home, he thought perhaps he was coming down with the flu and retired early. He lay in bed listening to the rain on the roof until he fell into a listless sleep. Some time during the night, Willie was awakened by a sound in the far corner of the room. He lit the lamp: there, looking back at him were Annie and little Martha, holding hands. The child looked upset, as though she had been scolded, and Annie looked white and pitiful. Her brown hair was wet and drops of water poured down her face. She stepped toward the bed and said, “Willie, we have found the brooch. Martha remembered where she left it. Come.”
The ghosts of Annie and Martha started out into the hall toward the attic door. Grabbing the lamp, Willie followed. Annie opened the door and Martha went up first, then Annie and Willie after her. Martha walked toward a small hole in the floor. Willie remembered the hole from when he built the house—there wasn’t enough lumber at the time so he left it as it was, an opening barely large enough for a child to climb through.
When Martha came to the opening, she got down on her knees and poked her head inside. She reappeared and passed Willie a small bundle of mesh cloth.
Willie set the lamp on the attic floor and unrolled the cloth—Annie’s wedding veil—to reveal the beautiful brooch that Martha had hidden so many years before. He stared with disbelief at the long-lost brooch. With tears in his eyes, Willie turned to his wife and niece, but they had disappeared. He returned to his room and placed the veil and brooch under his pillow.
Sleep came hard to Willie that night. A couple of days later, during another summer rainstorm, the ghost of Annie appeared to Willie. Annie stepped closer to Willie’s bed, and again, he noticed her face and hair were soaked. Annie looked down at Willie and spoke: “We have the brooch back, Willie. Let’s not quarrel any more. Please, come help me.”
Willie reached for her, but she backed toward the door and beckoned him to follow. “Come help me, Willie. I am so cold and wet.”
Willie dressed quickly and followed the ghost of his wife out into the rain, toward the cemetery. When they reached her grave, Willie looked down on the simple headstone and the flower vase he’d lovingly made for his dear Annie. When he looked up, her ghost was gone. Willie called her name repeatedly, but there was no response. She had left him alone again.
Summer was drawing to a close, and the weather turned cold and rainy. Once again Annie appeared to Willie, soaked to the skin. Her beautiful brown hair was hanging limp over her shoulders. She begged Willie to help her and back to the cemetery they went. As before, when Annie got to her grave, she vanished.
Willie woke early the next morning and headed for the cemetery. He brought a few pink chrysanthemums with him, deciding it was about time he replaced the peonies which had been there since early summer. As he picked up the vase, he noticed the bottom had rotted out, leaving a large hole under the vase which had been there since early summer. He picked up a stick and poked. It was then that he realized what had been bothering Annie. Each time she appeared, she was drenched, and she always came during a rainstorm. She had been trying to tell Willie that water was pouring down on her face through the hole in the grave. Even though he realized fixing the hole would mean never seeing Annie again, he did what he had done for her in life—made her happy. He fixed the hole…and never looked on his beloved again.
Row, Row, Row Your Ghost
In the last century, boating was a popular pastime, and boats were available to rent by the hour, the day, or the week on Nova Scotia’s Eastern Shore. One afternoon, a Mr. Hampton showed up at the boathouse wanting to rent a rowboat to take to an island he was interested in buying. The rental shop owner told Mr. Hampton he had only one boat left, and that, well, it was haunted. Mr. Hampton smiled and said that whoever was haunting the boat could join him for the ride.
Halfway across the lake, the man began to have some difficulty keeping the boat on course. It seemed to have a mind of its own and kept veering off toward the middle of the lake. Suddenly the boat dipped to one side and there was a loud splash, as if someone had jumped over the side. Mr. Hampton could hear gasping and thrashing in the water, but no one was there. After a few minutes, the splashing sounds stopped. When he got to the island and pulled the boat up on the beach, Mr. Hampton noticed a puddle of water on one of the seats and the floor of the boat, but couldn’t think of how the water got there.
His return trip was without incident, and when he got back to the wharf he told the owner what had happened. The owner said, “I told you the boat was haunted. A man rented it last summer to go fishing. Somehow he lost his balance, fell overboard and drowned. Or maybe he jumped over. No one will ever know.”
Broken Promises
This story takes place in Deer Island, New Brunswick. My contacts on Deer Island for this story are life-long residents Dale and Glenna Barteau.
In the mid-1850s, a resident of the town, John Hooper, was fed up with life and decided to end it all. According to reports, he was a little touched up top. He did have one child, a daughter who got off the island and headed for the States. Since no one heard from her since she left, one assumes she bought a one-way ticket.
Now, John Hooper had tried suicide once before, but failed. This time he made sure he would not. He tied a large bolder to his ankle, held the bolder in his arms and jumped into the pond behind his home.
John’s relatives knew he didn’
t want a marker of any kind—he had stated as much many times before. He simply wanted to be buried in an unmarked grave, but when it comes to the wishes of the dead, the living think they know better. Big mistake on their part!
With good intentions, his family buried John Hooper in the field behind his house next to the very pond where had ended his life. Here, they erected a large tombstone to commemorate him. In life, he had stated time and time again this was the last thing he wanted. In death he’d let them know just how upset he was.
Not long after he was buried, people passing by his grave noticed the tombstone lying on the ground a few feet from his grave. Naturally, they reported it to his relatives. His relatives, in turn, had workmen put it back, this time more securely. All of this to no avail. Every time workmen put the stone back, it would end up a few feet from the grave, lying on its side.
Stories began circulating that old John Hooper’s ghost was upright and restless. It became so upsetting to island residents that soon they avoided the area altogether.
Meanwhile the family, as feisty and stubborn as John himself, thought they would fix crazy old John for good. They decided to put something there that could not be moved or pushed over. They had the workmen lay a concrete slab first, and then set the marker in it. When family members went to check days later, they found the tombstone split in half with one section lying flat on the ground.
As far I know, John Hooper’s ghost hasn’t been seen around lately. As I understand it, there is a small and simple stone marking his grave. He finally got his way after all.
Let this to be a lesson. It’s wise to respect the wishes of someone who has gone over to the other side. If you don’t, the power of the deceased may come back and haunt the you-know-what out of you.
The Mystery of the Grey Lady
There are many versions of encounters people claim to have had with the mysterious Grey Lady. My own research places the Grey Lady in Seaforth, for two very good reasons: Firstly, the south shore version has always appeared to be the most authentic account to me. And secondly, Dr. Helen Creighton places the Grey Lady in Seaforth as well, in her book The Folklore of Lunenburg County.
The facts were told to Professor Carmen Stone, of the University of Kings College in Halifax, and her mother by Reverend Robert Norwood, the son of Reverend Joseph Norwood, who had several encounters with the Grey Lady.
Sometimes ghosts attach their spirits to one person. In this 1931 story, the Grey Lady’s attachment was to Reverend Joseph Norwood, the rector of the Anglican church of New Ross, and she wouldn’t let go. She appeared everywhere, disturbing him so profoundly that the good reverend asked to be transferred to another parish. He got his wish, and was posted to Seaforth. Of course, that didn’t end his problems with the Grey Lady. No sooner was he in his new surroundings than—lo and behold—the Grey Lady appeared on the landing of the rectory. In frustration, Reverend Norwood spoke to the apparition. He made the sign of the cross and said, “In the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost, speak.” And what was the Grey Lady’s reply? She looked the good priest in the eye, and told him that a great wrong had been done in which she had played a part. She instructed Reverend Norwood to go to a certain house on Morris Street in Halifax and deliver a message.
Reverend Norwood went to the Morris Street address the very next day, and discovered it was the home of the ghost’s sister. To make absolutely sure there was a relationship between the two, he asked to see a family album. He turned over the pages until he came to a picture of the apparition he had seen and he said, “This is her.” He then delivered the Grey Lady’s message.
The Grey Lady wanted to tell her sister where an important document was hidden, and ask for forgiveness over a quarrel they’d had. The sister said she had forgiven her a long, long time ago and was thrilled to receive the information about the document. For his part in this, the reverend was never bothered by the Grey Lady again.
Irma Gets Even
Mary Kate waved goodbye to her children and stood watching in the doorway until they were safely on the school bus. Returning to the kitchen, she poured a cup of coffee and sat at the table, enjoying the peace and quiet. She thought of her husband, who was out of town on business but would be home by the weekend.
Suddenly, out of the corner of her eye, Mary Kate saw something move. She froze. Slowly, she turned her head toward the stove. Drawing a sharp intake of breath, Mary Kate stepped back. Right beside the stove, a blurry form was slowly taking shape. As the apparition became clearer Mary Kate could see what appeared to be a tall, thin woman in her late fifties. There was some grey in her hair, but it was mostly black, and she wore it high in a bun. She was wearing a black dress with a white collar. Mary Kate shook her head. It has to be my imagination, she thought. Either that or I need a new prescription for my glasses.
Mary Kate stared at the form for a long time, transfixed. The apparition had her hand on a copper kettle on the woodstove. Mary Kate blinked and looked again at the stove. It was the woodstove that had been in the kitchen before Mary Kate and her husband had modernized everything. She recognized it from before the renovations. Mary Kate looked around. The kitchen and everything in it was from another time, as was the apparition.
The ghost was fading in and out, and Mary Kate could make out the sound of water boiling in the kettle.
She was torn between two options. Should she run like mad, or make contact with the spirit? She was surprised to note that she wasn’t afraid. Her curiosity was getting the better of her, and she wondered how to address the ghost. Would the ghost acknowledge her?
Her dilemma was solved when the ghost slowly turned her head towards Mary Kate and spoke directly to her. “It was deliberate, you know. He pushed me. He shoved me down the stairs and my head hit the banister and that was it. He killed me to get me out of the way. The next thing I knew I had been waked with all those hypocrites pouring out their pack of lies. Of course, him being mayor at the time, there wasn’t much of an investigation. Tripped and fell down the stairs was what he told the investigators, and they bought it, lock, stock and barrel. But I swore I’d get even with him. So, here I am!”
Mary Kate wanted to be as friendly as possible—the last thing she wanted to do was upset a ghost. So she smiled and said, “It was your husband then, who pushed you down the stairs?”
The apparition nodded. “Indeed, it was. I’ve waited all these years to catch up with him and finally get even with the old coot. People should know what he did. He shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. With your help he’ll get what he deserves.”
Mary Kate’s eyes narrowed. “My help? Meaning what?”
“Well, as a spirit, I’m limited as to what I can do and where I can go. Ghosts have different abilities, as do humans. Unfortunately, I’m not the travelling kind of ghost. I can’t go where I please. I’m stuck in this place. Can’t leave the house by myself. But I can if I become part of you. Kind of piggybacking, you might say. I’ll be invisible and you won’t even know I’m there. Think of me as an extra sweater.”
Mary Kate shook all over just thinking about it. “You want me to help you do away with your husband?”
“No, no, of course not. No violence of any kind. I just want to face him one more time before he dies, which I’m hoping won’t be long. As a matter of fact, today is his one hundredth birthday. I’m sure there’ll be a birthday party for him, and I’d like to be there.”
“And where is he?”
“Oh, I’ve been keeping tabs on his whereabouts. I can still read the papers, you know. Sometimes even over your shoulder. He’s in a nursing home. So…you’ll help me then?”
Mary Kate raised her eyebrows at the ghost. “Do I have a choice?”
“Not really. I can cause some real problems if you decide otherwise. You know, move things around. Flood the bathroom. Scare the children. You want that?”
“No, of course not. Let’s get on with it then. I’m Mary Kate and you are, I mean, you we
re…?”
“Irma.”
“Well, Irma, when do you want to go?”
“This afternoon. I want to get to him before he up and dies on me.”
Mary Kate agreed, and Irma disappeared, stating she’d be back in the afternoon. In her absence, Mary Kate made a few phone calls and found what she was looking for. A friend at the local newspaper read the story to her. Irma had been telling the truth: “Fall Kills Mayors’ Wife. Foul Play Not Suspected,” read the front-page headline from forty years ago.
It was about ten past three when Mary Kate drove into the nursing home parking lot. She quickly crossed the parking lot to the main entrance and went inside. She scanned the lobby until she found the ladies’ room. Following Irma’s instructions, she walked briskly towards it and went inside. As soon as she was inside, Irma’s ghost stepped away from Mary Kate.
The apparition told Mary Kate to stay in the ladies’ room until she returned. “Once I leave here,” she told Mary Kate, “ I’ll be invisible and only my husband will see me.” Then, Irma disappeared.
A sign with bold red letters above the solarium door wished Seth a happy one-hundredth birthday. Irma stepped inside. There were several residents seated around the brightly lit room. At one end, some of the residents were playing cards, other were watching television. There was chatter and laughter coming from the other end of the room, and Irma moved toward the sound, floating across the room and coming to stand behind a woman. Irma stole a look around. He was sitting in a wheelchair, grinning from ear to ear. Irma had to admit that he looked pretty good for a hundred.
All heads turned when a young woman carrying a birthday cake followed by a group of nurses came into the room singing “Happy Birthday.” Those gathered around Seth moved away to make room for the birthday revellers. Irma stepped right in front of the table where the birthday cake was placed. The cake had ten lit candles. One candle for each decade, Irma supposed. A heavy-set woman who appeared to be in charge suggested Seth blow out the candles and make a wish. “Take a deep breath now,” she told him. He did…and it turned out to be the last one he ever took. As Seth was taking the breath, Irma suddenly appeared behind the cake. She bent down so only her face showed between the flickering lights of the candles. It was only seconds, but Irma saw the look of disbelief on Seth’s face.
