Photographer, writer and traveler exploring historic haunted places and macabre curiosities.
Monday, June 21, 2010
Germany
Burg Frankenstein:
Thursday, April 29, 2010
Summerwind Mansion, Wisconsin
Built in 1916 by Robert P. Lamont for himself and his family on the shores of
During his 15 years at the mansion Lamont believed the structure was haunted. Lamont suddenly abandoned the mansion in the mid 1930s after one particularly frightening evening. He and his wife had just settled down to an evening meal in the kitchen, when the door to the basement shook itself open and a ghostly form of a man appeared. Lamont grabbed a pistol and fired two shots at the apparition as door swung shut. Holes in the basement door could still be seen many years later after the home came under new ownership.
From the 1940s to the 60s the house was owned by the Keefer family but remained largely unoccupied. When Mr. Keefer died his widow subdivided the land and sold it to purchasers but they experienced financial difficulties in keeping up payments.
During this time the Hinshaws tried to renovate their historic home but had trouble keeping workers because Summerwind gained a reputation for being haunted. Workers would not show up for work, usually claiming illness, a few of them simply outright refused to work. The Hinshaws decided to do the work themselves. During the renovation,
Several years later Ginger's father, Raymond Von Bober, bought Summerwind and wanted to turn the house into a restaurant. The Von Bobers' attempts to renovate the house suffered the same problems as the Hinshaws' years ago. Von Bober's son Karl experienced a variety of unnerving events. While walking through a hallway he heard a voice call his name, but he was the only one in the house. Then he heard what heard what sounded like two pistol shots and ran into the kitchen to find the room filled with smoke and the smell of gunpowder, an apparent supernatural reenactment from the 1930s Lamont incident.
During Von Bober's renovations workmen also began to report uneasiness as tools began to disappear. Furnishings appeared in photographs, which had not been existence since the original owners had possession of the home. Room dimensions appeared to change in these photographs and as draftspeople tried to produce blueprints of rooms.
For us the house seemed to retain its sense of mystery. On our first trip to explore and photograph the house we never found it, despite being within several yards of the ruin. A few days later after further research we decided to try again. This time we found it and we felt a sense of sadness and abandonment contrasting the pleasant sunny day, as we approached the ruin. The chimneys stood like tombstones against the sky, an epitaph to its former glory. The dull buzzing sounds of the spring hatching of flies on the mansion grounds added to the eerie atmosphere. As we walked around the ruin among the weeds and wild growing trees, Anna and I photographed and talked about the house, how sad that such a grand home had become so desolate. In spite of the walls having burned down long ago, the house seemed to retain its sense of volume. The weed-covered foundation and archways that still remain hinted to a grander time. We both wondered why no one has tried since the 1980s to clear the land and rebuilt another home.
This reminded us of TS Eliot:
In my beginning is my end. In succession
Houses rise and fall, crumble, are extended,
Are removed, destroyed, restored, or in their place
Is an open field, or a factory, or a by-pass.
Old stone to new building, old timber to new fires,
Old fires to ashes, and ashes to the earth
Which is already flesh, fur and faeces,
Bone of man and beast, cornstalk and leaf.
Houses live and die: there is a time for building
And a time for living and for generation
And a time for the wind to break the loosened pane
And to shake the wainscot where the field-mouse trots
And to shake the tattered arras woven with a silent motto.
- excerpt from EAST COKER
(No. 2 of 'Four Quartets')
T.S. Eliot
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Automata obsession
Recently I've been interested in, more like obsessed by, mechanical toys or Automata.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Leaving winter hibernation
For us the spring and fall months are ideal for our haunted project. The grass remains green but the leaves are gone leaving only the bare trees. The weather can be very cooperative with warm and cool days. Just perfect for Infrared photography.
Here are a few images of just some of the designs that will be available for purchase at Zazzle very soon as tote bags and shirts.
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
Nevermore? No mystery visitor on Poe birthday
BALTIMORE - Is this tradition "nevermore"?
A mysterious visitor who each year leaves roses and cognac at the grave of Edgar Allan Poe on the writer's birthday failed to show early Tuesday, breaking with a ritual that began more than 60 years ago.
"I'm confused, befuddled," said Jeff Jerome, curator of the Poe House and Museum. "I don't know what's going on."
The tradition dates back to at least 1949, according to newspaper accounts from the era, Jerome said. Since then, an unidentified person has come every year on Jan. 19 to leave three roses and a half-bottle of cognac at Poe's grave in a church cemetery in downtown Baltimore.
The event has become a pilgrimage for die-hard Poe fans, some of whom travel hundreds of miles. About three dozen stood huddled in blankets during the overnight cold Tuesday, peering through the churchyard's iron gates hoping to catch a glimpse of the figure known only as the "Poe toaster."
At 5:30 a.m., Jerome emerged from inside the church, where he and a select group of Poe enthusiasts keep watch over the graveyard, and announced to the crowd that the visitor never arrived. He allowed an Associated Press reporter inside the gates to view both of Poe's grave sites, the original one and a newer site where the body was moved in 1875. There was no sign of roses or cognac at either tombstone.
"I'm very disappointed, to the point where I want to cry," said Cynthia Pelayo, 29, who had stood riveted to her prime viewing spot at the gate for about six hours. "I flew in from Chicago to see him. I'm just really sad. I hope that he's OK."
Pelayo and Poe fans from as far away as Texas and Massachusetts had passed the overnight hours reading aloud from Poe's works, including the poem "The Raven," with its haunting repetition of the word "nevermore." Soon they were speculating, along with Jerome, about what might have caused the visitor not to appear.
"You've got so many possibilities," said Jerome, who has attended the ritual every year since 1977. "The guy had the flu, accident, too many people."
Tuesday marked the 201st anniversary of Poe's birth, and Jerome speculated that perhaps the visitor considered last year's bicentennial an appropriate stopping point.
"People will be asking me, 'Why do you think he stopped?'" Jerome said. "Or did he stop? We don't know if he stopped. He just didn't come this year."
Jerome said he will continue the vigil for at least the next two or three years in case the visits resume.
"So for me it's not over with," he said.
Story by The Associated Press 2010