Electric Ghost Hunt
ELECTRIC GHOST HUNT – May 17, 2024 – Tupelo, Mississippi, USA
The black Lincoln Navigator crept along the unpaved road between moss covered trees. The six friends inside looked around warily, asking each other if this could possibly be the right place.
Kristy, who was behind the wheel, muttered, “GPS says this is right.”
Sitting next to her, Capricia added, “You’d think they’d have a sign.”
The group left a Memphis suburb around 5:30 pm for the hour-and-a-half drive. While there was still plenty of light, the sun hung low in the sky, casting long, stabbing shadows into the humid air.
Shania and Raquel sat in the very back of the Navigator. The two friends enjoyed tagging along on adventures proposed by the others in the group, but they always traveled as a pair. When Kristy suggested spending a night in a haunted house as part of a ghost hunters tour, Shania and Raquel spent a lot of time reassuring each other it would be a harmless thrill. It would also be a fun night away from their husbands and kids.
“I’m not a big fan of getting scared,” Shania had said to Raquel. “I stay away from all the haunted house stuff during Halloween.”
“No one’s going to jump out and grab us,” Raquel said. “This will be more like summer camp with people telling ghost stories.”
The Navigator reached the end of the tree-lined lane and finally an old two-story brick building came into view. At one time, it may have looked like a stately residence, complete with iron balconies and tall columns surrounding the entryway. Now the exterior woodwork desperately needed paint and the roof was overdue for replacement. Neglected landscaping left grass and weeds growing to the height of the first-floor windows.
“Gray Magnolia Mansion. Is this really it? The pictures on the website look way different,” Caprecia said skeptically. “People pay money to stay here?”
“Looks like we did,” Reanna, who was sitting behind her, replied.
“Only because of the ghost stuff,” Carrie, sitting next to Reanna, added. “Who in their right mind would do it otherwise?”
Kristy drove into a mostly bare field where several other cars were parked. The six friends pulled their roller bags from the back of the SUV and carried them through the overgrown lawn to the mansion’s front entrance. Shania and Raquel walked behind the others and watched Kristy cautiously navigate the porch’s sagging floorboards leading to a creaking door.
Beyond the door, under the light of a once beautiful chandelier, a woman sat behind a plastic folding table. She wore round glasses with neon-green frames and her hair was dyed bright pink. Taped to the table in front of her was a sign advertising the name and logo for Grizzly Ghost Tours.
“Yes, we have you in Room 2A in the other building,” the pink-haired woman said after Kristy introduced the group.
“Other building?” Kristy replied.
“Right behind this one. It’s usually closed but they open it for special events like our tour group. Are y’all ready to encounter some ghosts?”
Three heads, out of six in the group, nodded. The pink-haired lady handed everyone a cheap flashlight decorated with the Grizzly Ghost Tours logo.
“Bring these with you when you come back here at 8:00 for the greeting and orientation.”
Flashlights in one hand and luggage in the other, the six friends navigated a worn brick-paved footpath that led to the rear of the property. Directly behind the first building sat another two-story brick and wood structure in even worse shape. The yard between them was littered with wood pallets, metal drums, and old furniture almost lost in the weeds.
Raquel turned to Shania and said, “Remember how I said no one was going to jump out and scare us? I think I’ve changed my mind.”
When they reached the falling-down building, Kristy pushed open another creaky door and the group huddled together next to a dust covered staircase. The place smelled damp with the hint of candle wax.
“I guess we go up,” Capricia muttered.
They cautiously climbed the stairs listening to each step crack under their body weight. At the end of a hallway lit by a single incandescent bulb was a door marked 2A. Kristy pulled out the rusty metal key provided by the ghost tours greeter. It looked like something used by pirates to unlock a treasure chest. Kristy stuck the key into the slot above the doorknob, turned it, and produced a loud CLICK.
“I can’t believe that worked,” she whispered.
The room beyond the door was small and lit by a corner lamp and a frosted window. Most of the space was taken by a queen-sized bed and dresser. A narrow stairway led to a cramped loft containing two more beds. While the others were up exploring, Shania called, “Raquel and I will take the downstairs bed!”
The attached bathroom contained a sink, toilet, and clawfoot bathtub. Raquel turned the sink’s faucet and cold water dribbled out.
“We’ve got running water!” she shouted. “But no shower.”
“We each paid $100 for this,” Shania said, standing next to Raquel in the crowded bathroom. “It shouldn’t cost more than five.”
“It’s all about the experience,” Raquel reminded her.
They did a little unpacking, including laying out toiletries on the dresser and pajamas on the bed. Then everyone pulled out snacks and grazed while they giggled about the ridiculousness of their current situation and wondered what was happening at home. As they talked, they heard other guests arriving outside and in the hallway.
At 8 pm, the six women grabbed their flashlights and clung together as they walked back to the mansion, which now looked much darker. They were surprised to find over 60 people crammed into the largest room, which served as a meeting and dining area.
The assembled crowd seemed to have been summoned from a hundred years in the past and directly from the woods surrounding the building. They wore serious faces and most of the men had long beards. Shania and Raquel stood near twins wearing matching suspenders, a one-armed man in a coonskin cap, and a mother flanked by two teen daughters in floor-length dresses.
The pink haired greeter was joined by another woman with equally bright orange hair. They welcomed the group and asked where everyone was from. The friends from Memphis were part of the minority who lived relatively close. Most traveled from places like Oregon or Florida.
“As y’all know, the Gray Magnolia has a reputation for being the most haunted place in Mississippi. Maybe the whole South,” the orange-haired woman announced. “At different times it was a boarding school, hospital, and an asylum. Countless traumatic experiences took place.”
Shania and Raquel expected to hear a few of the ghost stories for which they had made the trip, but instead of elaborating, the ghost tour woman simply said, “We’ll leave you to discover what happened and the people involved.” Then she stepped through a boring description of the rooms in both buildings.
The pink-haired coordinator took over and loudly said, “We anticipate everyone exploring all the spaces. You’ve all been assigned a room, but don’t shut the door until 1:00 am so we all get the chance to investigate.”
Shania and Raquel looked at each other in unhappy surprise.
“Lights out from now on,” the coordinator announced. “Use your flashlights if you need them.”
After the meeting broke up, Shania and Raquel’s first thought was to hurry back to their room to repack their bags. With no lights on, the atmosphere reached a spookier, more sinister level. The friends tightly held hands as they navigated the darkness using weak flashlight beams. Along with the others in their group, they crept back to their luggage and barely hid their belongings before their first visitors arrived.
A husband and wife walked into the room. The man was hairy and the size of a half-giant. He carried a cane to support his immense weight. His wife wore two pairs of bifocals on chains around her neck. They both carried handheld sensors the size of a remote control. As they waved the sensors around, different colored LED lights illuminated.
“I’m definitely getting something,” the giant man said in a deep voice. “A very active room.”
Shania’s curiosity overcame the creepy tingle down her spine and she asked, “What are you holding?”
The large man looked at her in surprise. “EMF detectors. For electromagnetic energy. The green lights mean the lowest levels, red lights the highest.”
Suddenly, the woman standing next to him began speaking as if an unseen child had entered the room. “Hello. If you can hear me, give me a sign. Is this your home? Are you sad?”
The EMF meter in the woman’s hand appeared to flicker from green to yellow and she grew excited. “Are you stuck here?” The sensor flickered again.
The woman continued to ask simple questions while Shania and Raquel sat on their bed watching. Neither of them knew whether they should be terrified, amazed, or skeptical. But they did not want to interrupt.
Shania pulled out her phone and sent a message to Raquel. “Is this real?”
As soon as she pressed Send, the handheld EMF meters spiked to red.
“Did you see that?” the man said excitedly to his wife. “I think someone new entered the room.”
Shania and Raquel shared knowing glances. Raquel texted back, “Did the phones do that?”
The EMF meters spiked again. Soon after, two women wearing matching jumpsuits walked in holding sensors of their own. The original couple excitedly explained their readings. “The spirits appear to be adolescent,” the big man concluded.
The jumpsuit women crawled onto the room’s stairway and waved their sensors in a semicircular pattern.
“This place is getting crowded,” Raquel whispered to Shania. “Maybe we should walk around someplace else.”
“You better stay close to me,” Shania whispered back.
“Hey, do y’all want to go check out some other places?” Raquel called to their other four friends watching from the loft above.
After abandoning Room 2A, the six women tiptoed in a tight pack through both buildings. As their moods shifted, they alternated between giggles and nervous squeals.
Shania explained to the others how text messaging seemed to affect the EMF sensors. “I don’t know whether to laugh or be freaked out by all of this.”
Some of the new rooms they explored were empty while others were supposedly hotspots and filled with clusters of other guests. Some of them had expensive-looking, toaster-sized sensors with dials and needles. Cameras on tripods were set up next to the equipment in hopes of capturing visual manifestations. In every active room, people asked questions to the perceived ghosts.
“Are you alone? Can you leave this place? Did something bad happen to you?”
Sensor readings rose and fell. Shania and Raquel stared and listened intently for any discernible sign beyond the sensor lights. They saw nothing in their direct field of vision, but perhaps some glints of movement out the corners of their eyes. The experience grew less spooky and more bizarre the longer they were around the serious ghost hunters. By midnight, the friends reached a state of tired loopiness. They could not help giggling and whispering back and forth as they listened to one-sided ghost conversations.
Kristy led the group of six back to Room 2A, which was still occupied by curious visitors speculating over their findings and attempting to categorize the rooms according to energy content. Shania and Raquel insisted on stretching out on the downstairs bed. The never-ending chatter by the ghost hunters turned from oddly funny to annoying.
When the clock finally reached 1:00 am, Shania stood up and announced, “I’m sorry, but everyone out. We’re closing and locking the door.”
Five people exited with groans of disappointment as Shania shut the door behind them and shuffled back to the bed. “Good night, everyone,” she called toward her friends up in the loft. Someone mumbled a “good night” in return.
Despite all the evening’s strange stimulation, Shania and Raquel fell into an exhausted sleep. The next thing they knew, they awoke to a loud, metallic rattling.
“What’s that?” Shania asked Raquel, who was leaning upward and obviously awake.
“Someone’s jiggling the door handle, trying to get in. These people don’t quit.”
Shania reached for her phone and checked the time. 2:30 am. “Go away! We’re closed for the night!” Shania screamed. The jiggling stopped. Shania huffed in disbelief and fell back to sleep.
An hour later, the doorknob shook again. Shania angrily awoke and checked her phone. “Go away!” she shouted. “I can’t believe you people.”
The jiggling started twice more and Shania yelled more angrily each time. She and the others got up in the morning feeling like they had barely slept.
“That was the worst night of my life,” Raquel said sleepily. “And now I can’t even take a shower.”
“Hopefully you can sleep on the way home,” Shania replied. “We better grab whatever they’re serving for breakfast before it’s gone.”
The six friends meandered over to the mansion building to retrieve the free breakfast included with their adventure package. Along the way, Kristy questioned whether she now believed more or less in ghosts.
The breakfast consisted of orange juice in boxes and pastries in plastic wrap. All guests seemed to be squeezed into the lobby so the newly arrived women had to stand while nibbling their pastries. The pink-haired coordinator walked over and asked what they thought of the experience.
“It was different,” Raquel replied.
“I was hoping to get more sleep,” Shania added. “People kept waking us up, jiggling our doorknob to try and get in the room.”
“What time was that?” the pink-haired woman asked.
“After 1:00 am. It started at 2:30 and pretty much continued every hour.”
“Two-thirty?” the woman asked in excited surprise. “Are you sure?” She turned to the others in the friend group. “Can y’all confirm that?”
Kristy nodded her head. “Yeah, we all heard it.”
“I can attest all guests were back in their own rooms by 1:30,” the coordinator replied. “No one was walking around. What you heard was a poltergeist.”
The pink-haired coordinator quickly called for everyone’s attention. “We have a confirmed poltergeist manifestation in Room 2A. The doorknob shook every hour.”
The lobby immediately cleared as guests raced to investigate. The six friends returned to their room to find crowds watching their closed door from inside and outside. The women pushed past a wall of sensors and cameras to retrieve their luggage.
As they drove away from Gray Magnolia, Kristy again posed the question about ghosts.
“I’m too sleep deprived to know what I think,” Shania replied. “Ask me later if it was real. But we’re definitely leaving with the weekend’s best ghost story.”
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