Since WE and everything living around us is ENERGY, I don't see why this phenomenom couldn't be true. Energy never stops. It simply changes form.
And even non-living things such as tables and dishes are composed of atoms which are 'energy'. According to my son's Physical Science book (Sophmore yr) the atoms that make up our own bodies have existed from the beginning of time. They just redistribute in the world upon our death.
So why would it be so far fetched to say that perhaps for sensitive people, they can pick up on different types of energy....such as that that migh linger from a battle?
Here's another interesting thought to ponder....straight out of the book....
"When you touch someone, your atoms and that of the other person don't actually MEET. Instead, they get close enough so that you sense the electrical repulsion of the atoms".
Now.....this got me thinking......so what in the world are we doing when we're having intimate relationships with some one???
If our atoms (THE THINGS THAT MAKE UP OUR BODIES) aren't TOUCHING each other...........
Boggles the mind, doesn't it?
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~~I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past~~
I find this kind of stuff so interesting. Last year we were on holiday in Cornwall and visited the place where King Arthur is said to have fought his last battle. The atmosphere felt so 'heavy' and at one point I felt like my chest was getting really tight and I couldn't breath properly. It was a very eerie feeling. I found out afterwards that a few other people have experienced the same thing there. Could be just imagination, but it felt so real
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'Beautiful people are those who do beautiful things'
Airing This Week on Weird US TV: Ghost Hunt at Fort Mifflin. Join us on an all night ghost hunt through the underground bunkers and casemates at one of the country's most haunted Revolutionary and Civil War fortsââPhiladelphia's Fort Mifflin. It's located just over the river from New Jersey along I-95 south of the Walt Whitman Bridge. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aH2uLQATDKM And speaking of haunted Pennsylvania battlefields, check this out: We are very pleased to announce that our own Joanne Austin's book Weird Hauntings: True Tales of Ghostly Placeshas been nominated as the "Best Paranormal Book of the Year" by the 2007 Ghost World Conference. And guess what--YOU get to vote for the winner online! The Paranormal Awards Ceremony will take place on Sunday, July 22, 2007 at Gettysburg, PA. There is a whole weekend planned that's packed with ghost tours, history, paranormal investigations, and the chance to interact with some of the biggest names in the field of supernatural research. Bring your camera, your ghost hunting equipment, and your open mind -- you may just have a brush with the supernatural! A BAD NIGHT AT FORT MIFFLIN By Rodney Anonymous, Excerpt from Weird Hauntings: True Tales of Ghostly Places This is embarrassingââsort of. My nephew, Jeff Anonymous, and I spent a Saturday Night within the Walls of Fort Mifflin. That's not the embarrassing part. This isâwe got the Hell scared out of us.
A few months back Paul suggested that having me spend the night in Eastern State Penitentiary would make for a great piece for his radio show and I agreed. After all, a night out is a night out. A few weeks later Paul called back to say that he had a better idea. Instead of Eastern State I should spend the night in Ft. Mifflin, because he'd seen it listed somewhere as âThe second most haunted place in America.â Which left me wondering where the most haunted place in America is and who decides these sorts of things. Anyway, I said âyeah, sure, whateverâ and stared researching the fort and putting together a plan for how the piece would flow.
My plan was to spend the night in the part of the fort with the worst reputation -- the dreaded âCasemate Number 5.â I would also bring my nephew along because...well, because he's fun to hang out with. The flow of the story would go like this: Jeff and I would sit up all night in Casemate Number 5 and every hour or so, I'd turn on the tape recorder and we'd say âNope, nothing yet.â When I put the piece together, I would edit in Wayne the caretaker and President of the Philadelphia Ghost Hunters Alliance talking about the various ghosts that supposedly haunt the fort along with clips of a few other people who'd stayed (or attempted to stay) the night in Casement Number 5.
And it was a good plan, too. The only problem was that Jeff and I lasted about an hour-and-a-half in Casemate Number 5. Understand we had every intention of spending the night thereâI built a huge fire and we carried heavy pallets down there to use as beds. Hell, the Casemate looked better than most of the apartments I've lived in after we got through setting it up.
Around 11:30 at night, after Paul had left and Wayne had retired to another part of the fort, Jeff and I plopped ourselves down on a bench in front of the fire. We'd planned to talk all night, but the Casemate just wasn't conducive to conversation. Around 1:00 a.m. the hair on the back of my neck stood up. It eventually went back down again -- about four hours later. Coincidentally, it was exactly at this point in our adventure that we decide it might be a good time to go stretch our legs.
We spent about a half-an-hour walking around the upper part of the fort âinterviewingâ the ghosts (This involved asking wise-assed questions followed by silence) before we settled into one of the upper building that housed the restrooms. It was here that we came up with a new-and-improved plan. Jeff and I would hang out in this area (returning to Casemate 5 every hour or so to toss a few logs on the fire and get warm). This plan worked until about 3:00 a.m. when the general atmosphere in the fort started to get so creepy that we decided to return to the Casemate one last time, grab our sleeping bags and camp out on the ramparts, facing the comforting lights of the city.
I should probably point out that Paul wasn't helping to improve our feelings about the fort. Starting around 2:30 a.m. he began calling me on my cell phone to impart fun facts that he'd picked up on the Internet about the ghosts that supposedly haunt the fort.
Around 3:30 in the morning, while stretched out on the Northeast rampart, we began to hear things. Nothing more than the occasional popping sound at first. Initially we made jokes about the sounds '"Maybe it's Wayne, the caretaker? He heard about the plans to build a hotel nearby and he's pretending to be a ghost in order scare people off so he can get the land cheap. 'Yeah, and I would've gotten away with it, too, if it weren't for you meddling kid.'". And then we head a loud thud that sounded like a bass drum.
I called Paul and told him that we would be very appreciative of him hauling his ass down to the fort ASAP so that he could hear all of the fun too. A certain degree of urgency was added to this call when I discovered that, despite having just charged the battery the night before, my cell phone was about to lose power.
In other words, we wanted out of there.
Before you judge me too harshly for abandoning my rational, objective outlook I'd just like to say that up until the battery in my cell phone started to die, I was totally OK with spending what little remained of the night in that fort. My problem was that if an intruder caused those soundsâand if that intruder came across Jeff and IâI'd have no way of calling for help.
Finally, Paul agreed to come to the fort and stick it out with us until the sun came up. About forty minutes later, Paul pulled into the parking lot of the fort and Jeff and I let him in. We ran into Wayne a little later and the three of us spent the rest of the night sitting around bull****ting.
Oh, there is one more thing. Shortly after Paul arrived, he Jeff and I set up my tape recorder on the windowsill in a room that's rumored to be haunted by Elizabeth Pratt (AKA âThe Screaming Ladyâ). Wayne said that someone had left a tape recorder running in there before and had gotten some interesting results (the sound of a âgunshotâ). When we were getting ready to leave we swung by the room to pick up the tape player. The tape player was were we left it and it was still running.
Only, now, it was upside-down.
GETTING GETTYSBURG GHOSTS Excerpt from Weird Hauntings: True Tales of Ghostly Places When I was a boy, I remember reading about the battle of Gettysburg, the most famous battle of the Civil War. During it, some 45,000 soldiers on both sides where either killed or wounded. The fighting was intense and terrifying, and many soldiers died of their wounds because they could not get any medical assistance. When the battle ended, it left behind a ghastly and ghoulish scene. The smell of death was everywhere, and it was several weeks before all the dead soldiers were buried.
The Confederate soldiers were buried where they fell in makeshift graves: over 1200 are buried on the main battlefield. The Union soldiers were buried in an extension to the local cemetery, which became the National Cemetery at Gettysburg.
I first visited Gettysburg in May 2000, and I was overwhelmed by the place. I was most impressed with the cemetery. While I did not believe in ghosts, I felt an eerie feeling when I visited. I was walking over hundreds of soldiers who died in defense of that in which they believed. As I finished the tour, I heard about a ghost walk that was provided to visitors, and decided to take it the next night.
The tour started at 8:30 p.m. and was led by guide dressed in Civil War attire. We saw a number of sites in the town of Gettysburg and the surrounding battlefields that were supposedly haunted. It was almost 10:00 when we arrived at the last stop, which was the National Cemetery.
The tour guide told us that there had been many ghost sitings there. He was a good storyteller and I thought this was part of his act: a way of creating a little excitement for the group. The night was moonless, cool and quiet. Many people on the tour where asking questions about ghosts and the tour guide seemed to be embellishing stories he had heard. I thought that he had done a good job, but since I did not believe in ghosts, I thought this was just hype.
I decided to test the tour guide. I asked him if it was possible to get a photo of an orb on a digital camera. He said yes, and that he had taken many orb photos with his own digital camera. I decided to try this out for myself, though I didn't believe it would happen and would show the tour guide as a fake. I took the digital camera out of its case, turned it on and tried to find something that I could focus on. It was very difficult to see any headstones or markers. I decided not use the flash, which could cause a reflection, pointed the camera in the direction of the cemetery and just hoped for the best.
It seems as if ten seconds had passed between pointing the camera and pushing the shutter release. In reality it was about two seconds, and another two seconds before the image appeared on the viewfinder. A woman on the tour was looking at the viewing screen with me, and as the image appeared, she screamed, âOh my God, there is an orb!â
I looked at the screen and saw a series of what looked like small flashlights glowing in the dark. I was thinking, âHow could a photo taken in total darkness, where there was no light or reflections in the area, show any form of light as the photo was developed?â I could not explain it. So, I turned to the tour guide and asked for his opinion. He looked at the image and said, âYep, you have a great photo of an orb.â
I was still not convinced that my âorbâ photo proved anything, and returned to the edge of the cemetery alone at 10:00 the next night, where I unsuccessfully tried to reproduce the previous night's results. As I looked into the distance, I saw an unmistakable sight. It was a soldier, dressed in what appeared to be a Union uniform, marching around a group of graves. I noted that there were no lights or reflections that might cause an illusion. I called out to the soldier, but he walked into the darkness. I did not know what to think.
The next morning I went to the National Park Service headquarters and asked if they had any Civil War reenactors walking around after dark. A park ranger told me that no one was allowed in the cemetery after darkand there were no rangers on the property at 10:00 the night before. It was at that point that I was absolutely convinced there really are ghosts at Gettysburg.
Over the years, my visits to Gettysburg have made me more of a believer in ghosts. I feel that the more that people believe in the presence of spirits, the greater the chance they will see them, but I also feel that the spirits at Gettysburg are just looking for a little respect and perhaps make a presence to some to say thank you for believing in them. In Gettysburg, ghosts are really just business as usual. â Paul J. Forti, Ph.D.
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~~I like the dreams of the future better than the history of the past~~