Where’s the Pole? – Old Fire Station, Ramsgate

Passing the sign for the River Wantsum on the Thanet Way always makes me smile, as I read it as an invitation for a fight. However the location for tonight’s investigation was home to fighters of a different kind for over 100 years – Ramsgate’s Fire Fighters.

Credit:SJP

Before it became the home of Ramsgate’s Fire Brigade in 1905, the fire station was the residence of Rear Admiral William Fox, whose post was addressed to Effingham Lodge, Brick Lane, Ramsgate. Brick Lane became Effingham Place in 1785 before Place was changed to Street between 1849 and 1872.

My sat nav announced that I had reached my destination as I pulled into the yard of what is now Radford House. After scoffing a meal deal I had some time to take some external pictures of the station before I was joined by the rest of the crew from Ghost Hunter Tours (GHT).

Credit:SJP

With the night watch reporting all present and correct we commenced our pre tour of this location. The first comment “Where’s the pole? I was expecting a fireman’s pole,” was met with a laugh that echoed around the ground floor room, with electronic rolling doors that once permitted access to the fire engines.

Credit:SJP

This space, we were informed, back in Admiral Fox’s day was originally 4 rooms with the dividing walls taken down and the four ornate fireplaces boarded over to create an operational space for what was originally horse drawn fire pumps to be deployed from. Light streamed through the roller doors, which we identified may be an issue in using this space as it was very visible from the street.

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Ascending to the first floor, there were two spaces available, the Dame Janet Room and a Kitchen/toilet area. The Dame Janet room was a basic square, meeting room set up with a 4 tables pushed together and surrounded by chairs – ideal for séance-esq experiments. The Kitchen, was going to be cramped space for the night but provided the option of separating the group and using the dog-leg corridor towards a toilet and shower room.

Credit:SJP

Credit:SJP

The top floor provided us with the T.G. Taylor Room, a nice big space with some tables and chairs that we could use. Next door was an office that was not to be accessed by guests, but feeling a bit mischievous decided that this was the best place to set up Drew and Graham, my firefighter dolls, for a locked-off experiment.

Credit:SJP

A pole would have been handy to make my way back to the operations floor, but as one could not be located I took the stairs.

Credit:SJP

The guests had arrived with whispers of “Where’s the pole?” Clearly there was some minimum expectations of an old fire station, but hopefully this location would not disappoint. This was the second known paranormal investigation of this site, but the first for GHT. The usual welcome and briefing over the guests were divided into three teams, mine remained on the operational floor to commence our investigation in the beating heart of Ramsgate’s Old Fire Station.

The daylight was still present as my group formed a circle around a K2, a multi-meter and cat ball to try and generate some energy to get our night going. I had set up my Plasma Ball on a nearby table, its tentacles searching for a means to earth being the only initial activity on any of the devices.

I took a temperature reading which read 20° and leaving the group to continue to call out starting to take some photographs and video.

Taking a video of the stairwell to the first floor I noticed the tell-tale specks floating at speed.

Orbs are one of the more contentious issues in the paranormal community. Gaining popularity with the move from traditional film cameras to digital imaging the term Orb was first coined by the International Ghost Hunters Society. However a change in recording process and a rise in phenomena reporting must, surely, show some corelation. The way digital photography works is that a light is required to activate a sensor behind the lens, but it is not a simple as that. You have to consider the quality of the sensor, the direction of the light and the components that sit in between.

I take most of my photos and videos on investigation through my Iphone, which if you notice some of the light anomalies that I have discovered are usually a green hue. This is because of the materials and processes used to make the sensor in this camera. Other devices will produce different colours, so this is useful to note.

So taking the above video, taken with only natural light coming from behind me through the shutters of the fire station doors, the ‘orb’ structures that are visible could have several explanations. They could be paranormal but on the other hand they could just be dust particles reflecting the light.

Dust, bugs, pollen, lens flare, over exposure, prolonged exposure are all natural explanations that could create this type of phenomena, throw in pareidolia and you delve into a deep rabbit hole, that is too deep for this blog post.

A second video, taken a short while later, this time with natural light from behind and from in front of the lens shows an ‘orb’ appear from the right and change direction heading towards the camera just above the plasma ball. I will let you draw your own conclusion on this one.   

Finishing my stint as David Bailey an Alice Box app was fired up and the group opened a spirit board. I continued to watch the plasma ball, which appeared to have quite a lot of interaction. The tentacles appearing to find points to earth and slither their way around the inside of the glass ball. The word “Scientist” came through the Alice box.

Pulling myself away from the dancing ball I crossed the concrete floor and went to sit down to observe the spirit board. “Sat” said the box as my backside hit the seat. The board was not doing anything much. The glass being used remained still. Thinking a change would help, I swapped out the glass for a wooden planchette.

Almost immediately the planchette slid across the smooth surface towards a particular guest, and was reluctant to move from this position. Asking to spell a name A-M-P-Y was spelled out. Ampy indicated he was 7 years old, that he liked this particular guest very much, as she remined him of his mother. A-P-O-M came next, asking if the spirit meant Atom, the planchette moved quickly to ‘yes’.

Ampy was an excited spirit, he loved interacting with the plasma ball, as he referred to it as atom, he was a good boy and was with 3 other spirits on the operations floor. Reports of a decrease in temperature saw a check show a reading of 19.9°, a drop of 0.1° was not conclusive as the sun had now set.

The Rem-pod began to flash, the board spelled out A-M-Y; Ampy’s mother’s name and activity began to dwindle. Closing the board we commenced an Estes Session, and conversation with Ampy continued.

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As soon as the sitter was blindfolded and plugged in came the word “Hi.” “Is that Ampy?” a guest asked, the sitter replied “Yes”. Ampy reiterated that he was looking for his mother, Amy, but he was happy where he was. I sat down on the second step of the staircase to the first floor and the sitter stated “two steps.” I noticed that Ampy had good observational skills and challenged him to a game, asking him to activate the motion sensor music box that had remained silent all evening. The sitter responded “I’m gonna do it” and acknowledged the instruction to walk in front of it by saying “alright then.” The group were offering supportive and encouraging words, but as our session came to a close the box remained silent. The excuse provided by the sitter – “She doesn’t want me to come to her corner.”

During the review stage after the investigation, I though locating an Ampy may have been an easy task. Unfortunately I could find no record of any Ampys or Amys linked to the building in any of its iterations. The question still remains of who was in the corner and why she would not let Alby come in.

Swapping groups we filed into the Dame Janet room and took our seats around the table. Setting up the plasma ball, with a carefully placed K2 to prevent mis readings from the plasma, the group started to call out. The attention was soon focused on the tentacles in the middle of the table, which began to move as if being manipulated by something unseen.

 In order to test the function of the ball I reached out and placed my fingers on the glass. The purple/blue tentacles shot out to meet my fingertips, as I felt a firm, deliberate pressure on my back keeping me in the stress position that I found myself in. Feeling like it lasted a lot longer than it probably did in actuality the pressure eventually released allowing me to sit up properly, removing my hand from the ball.

The others sat around the table tried the same, tentatively placing fingers on the plasma ball, but none reported the same pushing or level of force that I had experienced. Suddenly the cat ball to my right burst in to life, well a partial life as only the red and yellow LED’s were flashing with a distinct lack of blue light. Coincidence bearing in mind that we were in a fire station? Perhaps but when the ball was checked at the end of the session it quite happily flashed with all three colours again. An interesting cat ball issue or spirit ability to influence a particular colour on the device?

Playing with balls had taken us to the halfway mark of our time in this space and having been sat down for a bit we decided to stretch our legs and head down to the kitchen area.

The natural separation created by the dog-leg corridor to a toilet made this space idea for an Estes session. So finding a willing volunteer to act as sitter we set up a chair outside the toilet whilst the rest of the group found a comfortable perch in the kitchen.

The usual starting questions; “Is there anybody there?” “Do you want to talk to us?” started this session. Although no response from the sitter a cat ball that had been placed in in front of them started to flash. “Are you male?” gained an “Mmmm” from the sitter with the follow up question “Old or young?” being responded to with “I know. Old.” The questionable response to the age being 1 was received but we went on to understand that there were 4 other spirits as well as 5-6 children in this already cramped space.

“Help, Help!” came from the sitter and as I went to ask questions I felt a tightening within my throat, as if something was blocking my airway. This caused a bout of coughing, to which the sitter stated “Cough, Cough” almost mockingly. Catching my breath I clarified the comment “Did you mean Fuck off?” I was told “No, No.”

The sitter reported that something was touching her hair, and when questioned if the spirit communicated was touching her “Yep” came the reply. The spirit was asked if they liked hanging around the toilet to which the reply this time was a definite “Fuck off!” followed by a word that sounded like ‘Ship’. As we bought the sitter out of her sensory deprivation I asked what the final word she had said was as it sounded like ‘Chit’. She confirmed the word – Shit.

The second and third sitters had no replies to any of the questions asked. However when asked if the spirit could turn the tap on in the bathroom during the final sitters session, a boiler situated in a cupboard suddenly kicked in with that distinctive sound of heating water. Coincidence? Possible, but boilers usually work on timers or temperature sensors. So hardly conclusive.

What was interesting was the sound of the door handle on the toilet turning and snapping back on its spring. The sitter reported hearing the sound over the noise cancelling headphones. The rest of the group reported hearing the same sound, so a shared experience. Checking the door, the sprung bolt had been rendered useless by years of gloss paint gluing the mechanism. Turning the handle, however, provided the same sound that had been heard.

A very interesting end to an interesting session on the first floor, with activity and communication provided by most of the equipment and experiments deployed.

A well needed break followed where one of the guests was describing entering the room on the top floor to discover chairs had been oddly stacked. Comparing photos with my pre-investigation ones and indeed chairs that had been folded and stacked neatly against a wall had been unfolded and stacked at odd angles. A little investigation uncovered this feat was completed by living hands rather than spectral means.

The paper cups properly placed in the recycling signified the start of the third and final session. Calling for my group we went to the top of the building to investigate the T.G Taylor room.

Starting out with a deployment of K2, motion sensor lights, a laser grid and a bell the group settled down, some stood others sat leaning against the walls to get a feel for this space. Once home to the station bar, the clean white paint on the plasterboard now hiding the history of this space.

Opening an Estes Session, the sitter sat in silence as the buzz of scanned frequencies entered his ears. Guests started reporting that they felt uncomfortable within this room, a Necromany App broke the silence with the robotic male voice “My life was taken.” The group then asked if Neil Fogg had followed them upstairs.

This group had encountered Neil during a spirit board session on the operations floor. Spelling out his name Neil Fogg said that he was an 11 year old boy, born in 1956 and attended a school near to the fire station. His short life was ended here in 1967 by a male called Peter, but Neil enjoyed being at this location.  Research could find no murders committed at or near to the fire station that matched any of the details provided by Neil.

The sitter, still suspended in sensory depravation had remained silent and so the headphones were handed over like a relay baton to the next willing volunteer. As the new sitter got comfortable “I can use this” was stated and the motion activated strip light was illuminated. A series of deliberate movements around the light demonstrated that the illumination was not caused by anything visible in the room.

“I lost my hair” came from the sitter, apt if you were to describe him and a ripple of laughter spread around the room. The sitter reported hearing laughter in his ears coming through from the spirit box. The sitter fell silent for a while, as did the group, fatigue begging to set in after such a busy investigation for all groups.

“Run!” the sitter broke the silence. “Run!” the sitter repeated louder and with a greater sense of urgency. Questioning why we should run, asking what was coming was the group’s immediate reaction – no one was scooby-doo-ing it out of the room, down the stairs and out into the dark night that had fallen on Ramsgate. 

What we did do was move a motion activated music box outside of the door, its sensor pointing to the top of stairs. The door ingeniously propped open with application of a K2 so that a weather-eye could be kept into the gloom outside to discount any physical body setting it off.

“Run” was repeated again, but this time it was set to the haunting soundtrack of the plinky-plonky music of the box. Silence fell across the room, and then the corridor outside. Someone asking for the music box to activate again had their wish granted. “Run” came again.

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One of the group not listening to the advice to run, decided to stand in the laser grid. He reported feeling that his arms were being raised against his will. This coincided with a significant power drain of the laser, leaving a dull green curtain of dots. Taking the opportunity I took the multi-meter to see what the readings were in this situation.

Pointing the sensor end at the guests chest as you can see from the video provided a 25 reading on the voltmeter, this reading as moved away rapidly decreased before returning to 0. Setting up a red laser grid at the other end of the room, as the green had completely died. The guest moved to the opposite end. The voltage spiked hitting over 50 and then seemed to go mad, with readings topping 230-240.

Credit:SJP

Now its always good when dealing with electricity that you have an electrician on hand, and one of the guests was just that. Trying the multi-meter against light switches, cables and emergency lights the meter produced the correct and anticipate readings. So what was causing the voltage spike on the guest? We formed a circle and tested each guest, some had low readings but three in particular had readings above 90 that shot into the red.

The interesting thing was that if I touched them the voltage reading returned to zero.

This experiment turned into guests holding hands, the voltage reading levelling out with those in the chain until I touched any one on the chain and the reading would fall to zero.

Explanation – I cannot locate one. The readings are significantly too high to be natural electricity generated by the human body, as well as having a massive varying fluctuation. There was a resolute zero milligauss recorded demonstrating that there was no electromagnetic field detected. So why or how was all this electric energy being earthed through me. We were three stories up, I was wearing boots with rubber soles and this phenomenon continued I could find no explanation.

Not wanting to finish chasing the voltage as every finding became more and more interesting, being told that we were out of time was a disappointment.

So finishing packing up, I went to check on Drew and Graham and see if anything had wanted to play with them as much as they had wanted to paly with us. As you can see, another locked off experiment with no discernible movement.

Before Credit:SJP

After Credit:SJP

Ramsgate’s Old Fire Station provided highs and lows. The positives being interesting connections through spirit boards and Estes sessions, stories to investigate, strange electrical phenomena and lights and music boxes activating with no visible source. The lows being a negative result from the dolls, a lack of recorded, researchable record of those that we have engaged with and of course there being no fireman’s pole in the station.    

Credit:SJP

If you want to find out if you are brave enough then join Ghost Hunter Tours (GHT) on an investigation click here to find tickets for some fantastic venues. I can’t do them all (as much as I want to) but follow me on Instagram or Facebook to find out where I will be heading next.

If you are interested in the Chattergeist Touch then all the information and a 10% off in the shop are available by clicking here.

SJP is an affiliate of GHT and Dimension Devices. Sales through these links will earn me commission.

#SundayStories - "The Mysterious Visitor"

This weeks #SundayStory comes from an amazing woman who I met in Maidstone who wishes to remain anonymous.

I had seven staff that were constantly sneezing in the large office we shared. Along the hospital corridor we had Rose Gibb fighting the CDIFF outbreak which brought with it a mandatory use of sanitising concoctions to protect us from the bugs and the media storm that followed.

I decided that my office would need to be dismantled and cleaned to prevent the loss of staff to the threatened illness, and it would need to be done out of hours. So, I planned to come in on the Sunday to clear and clean the best I could. I arrived during the afternoon and dragged a ‘cage’ to put all the pc’s and wiring in. It would stand in the corridor whilst I set to washing and polishing walls, chairs and desks. My last jobs would be the hoovering and then rewiring of equipment.

The good thing about the Oncology Centre was that the door to the main hospital corridor was locked at the weekend, the lights were off, both inside and out in the central garden area. Nobody knew I was there. Nobody knew I had a key to the side door, and an in order to remain inconspicuous to the rest of the hospital staff, I left all the lights off except for those in the office. The winter afternoon sun had already gone down and I saw my own reflection in the windows as I worked, bathed in the only room with light.

As I bumbled on with the job I heard a voice calling ‘hello’ and I went into the corridor to see who it could be. A particularly ordinary lady was there, holding a bag. ‘Can I help you?’ I asked. ‘I am here to visit my mother’ she told me. I couldn’t work out how she had got in. ‘I am sorry, but this end of the hospital is closed, you would need to use the main entrance as the whole department is locked. If you hold on, I will get the keys, let you out and show you the way’

My keys were within arm’s reach and I stretched to grab them to open the door. Stepping over the hoover I ventured further into the dark corridor but she was not there. She had gone. I could not find her and all outer doors were locked and alarmed. I ventured outside just to see whether she was walking towards the main entrance, but nobody was there.

It took a while to digest the event as it seemed so normal, and not one bit paranormal, but the more I considered it and checked the department, the more I question its reality.

It wasn’t sinister, I wasn’t afraid but she definitely wasn’t there.

#SundayStories - "Sad Annie"

Todays #SundayStories comes from the same great author as last week. A massive thank you to you.

The old hospital had seen many changes with areas and wards being renamed or refurbished for new technology since the beginning of the NHS in 1947. The Bury Hospital was no different. Wards that were styled in a dormitory fashion, with a matron at one end and a coal fire at the other were reformed into wards of expertise, followed by specialised units. How many people had been admitted or stayed is impossible to say but countless people ended their lives there. What is certain is the dedication of Nursing staff whose vocation was, and is, the driving force behind the best care they can offer.

We watch them work with absolute precision with their starched uniforms, reassured that they follow complex and abundant rules to ensure patient dignity and safety. What we don’t see are the unwritten procedures, the instinctive responses that the medical profession follow when it comes to death.

Nowhere in the rules does it instruct nurses to step back when a patient is reaching the end. There is something about their personal space where a tangible, invisible ‘something’

In order to run two hospitals from a live system, I was sent to an older hospital to transfer patients from paper diaries to the electronic option. This was an arduous task which had to take place outside of normal working hours.

Although the older hospital was adapted to receive very technical equipment it retained its older style windows, doors and decoration. The department, placed in the corner of the hospital, required few windows and thick, lead-lined walls. At one end of the department there was a locked door leading to second door which opened into a ward.

Many smaller clinic rooms were dotted around the inner walls of the three treatment rooms, between them cupboards with linen and a number of antiquated toilets. Chairs were placed in all available spaces to provide seating for waiting patients. Old metal screens with large wheels and floral fabric divided seated patients from those on gurneys.

During the day the area was filled with sound but silence fell quickly, like an invisible blanket as the last of the staff and cleaners collected their coats. They muttered as they proceeded down the corridor turning off lights and closing the door behind them. At the other end of the corridor through the ward linked door I could see nurses and catering staff pulling trays of supper from a large metal trolley. No sound was heard.

Not having any desire to spend the whole night so far from home I settled down to transfer the data, ticking check lists as I went along. I had been working under a solitary light for long enough to drink coffee and eat a banana when I heard someone crying. It was a quiet cry, one I imagined to be of sadness rather than harm. I looked up from my work trying to locate the sound but it stopped. I discounted it but there it was again- it was louder now and appeared to have moved.

My mind sparked into work mode with my first thought being that of distressed staff. I knew very few people here, I had no idea who it might be or why she may be crying. She must know I am here as I am tapping on the keypad. Perhaps she wants privacy, that’s it, I will give her space, let her come to terms with her problem alone.

Was it the situation that gave me a chill, or the dropping temperature? Whatever, I shivered. This time the crying was more urgent and my thoughts shifted from staff to patient. Nobody would leave a patient behind, everyone knows the drill, a patient is never left behind. What if ….. I should check.

Rising from my chair I tried to locate the sound in my head. I called out ‘Hello?’ but there was no reply. Systematically I opened doors hoping to find whoever this was and being unaware of the department I found myself entering cupboards and store rooms, toilets and darkened clinics hoping to reach the person. still calling as I went.

It’s funny how the sound of the large brass locks clunking shut seemed to make the department darker, two senses merging and creating fear. The crying now was ahead of me, in one of the treatment rooms. It had moved. Had it moved around me? Was it following me? I hadn’t felt it or seen it and now I wasn’t sure I wanted to know anything about it. Fact was, I had no choice but to locate it so I walked into the treatment area along the winding entrance called the maze. Whoever this was could not leave without passing me and the crying was definitely in there.

My hand fumbled along the wall searching for the bank of light switches, pausing momentarily as I thought: perhaps I was mistaken, maybe this was two people and the sound wasn’t crying. Too late. The lights flickered on and the crying stopped. No one was there, no one person, or more than one person. The room was filled with a presence which I imagined was looking directly at me as I had turned on the light. I wanted to run.

Fear now set in, was it hostile? Was it behind me? Would it follow me? How do I get out? I calmly walked back through the maze leaving the lights switched on- this night the NHS would be paying for electricity! I tried to concentrate on turning lights on as I walked and collected my paperwork. If only to break the heavy silence I spoke out loud, apologising for disturbing her and offering to leave her in peace. By the time I reached the end of the corridor I was feeling physically sick and desperate to hear the crying again as this would confirm the distance between it and me, I looked over my shoulder expecting to see a face or feel a finger poking me in the back but there was nothing. My fear was not of the presence but of its attitude: as though it was equally shocked or invaded. It was encouraging me to leave swiftly and swiftly is how I left.

The car park was almost empty with my car parked under a tree, its leaves rustling in the wind. I was glad to drive away and not wishing to see a passenger in the rear-view mirror, I opened the windows, cranked up the music and hammered home.

The next day I tentatively relayed the event to colleagues over lunch. One of the staff that frequented the older hospital was biting into her sandwich as she said, ‘Oh that’s Annie. She used to be a matron when it was the old ward and is often seen or heard crying as she walks around. Did she see you to the door?’

Cells, Chambers and Cellars: Part 2, Maidstone Town Hall

This post concentrates on the second night of Ghost Hunter Tours investigation of Maidstone Town Hall. Catch up with the event of night one here.

Credit:SJP

A month ago was the first time I had walked through the front doors of Maidstone Town Hall and experienced what the three floors had had to offer with a fantastic group of people.

Now 4 weeks later it is important to discuss the variables that could influence the night’s vigils. Half of tonight’s crew were new to the venue, and although we had all worked together before, we all bring different experiences, thoughts and expertise to the experiments. The guests were all completely new to the Town Hall, with a fantastic mix of first timers, experienced hands and beliefs. Our host for the evening was Russell who had replaced Ray, and would be spending his time catching up on his emails.

Weather, light and the phase of the moon were also all different and so could also have an influence on the night’s results.

So what had remained the same? The building, was unchanged and the same areas as night one; the Cells, the Council Chamber and the Cellar would be in play. The timing, a Friday night starting at 2000 hours was the same as before, and correlated with similar people seeking alcoholic spirits and a good time in the local pubs and clubs.

Chairs set up, tea urn on and we were all set for the arrival of our guests for the evening. Disappointed with the lack of interaction with my handcuff and whistle locked off experiment in the Cells I changed tack and set up a magnetic white board and letters asking the question “What is your name?” in the hope of some movement this time around.

As I was setting up the experiment I took a cheeky look into the attic space, that was off limits due to the risk of falling through the floor, and took some photos in the hope of finding something lurking in the shadows.

Credit:SJP

Credit:SJP

As you can see I was left a little disappointed.

Replacing the board at the bottom of the stairs, to prevent unauthorised access I went down to the room adjoining the Council Chamber and tucked a chalk board with the question “leave a message” and a choice of chalk under a table. Having provided some instruction to any spirits listening I returned to the ground floor to meet the teams for the evening.

The same briefing was provided, but a change was the celebration of a couple of birthdays. Lifting the energy with a rousing ‘Happy Birthday’ and presentations of cards, the sound of the door was heard again.

The distinctive mechanical click was traced to belonging to a clock hanging on the wall in the corridor leading to the stairs. Interesting evidence from night 1 – debunked.

Credit:SJP

In a change from the first night my group would be starting in the Council Chamber, so once everyone was reminded of their group number (another constant from the last investigation) we climbed the stairs to the first floor.

As we pulled out our gadgets and gizmos our guests formed a circle in the middle of the horseshoe of tables and started to get used to the noises from outside and the feel of the space. Setting out my now super charged plasma ball (I had it plugged into a rechargeable battery pack), a motion activated music box and some cat balls – the group began to call out.

I placed my K2 on a desk and set up a laser grid. The K2 was again registering 3 milligauss indicated by the flickering orange light in the middle of the array. This was the same as the first time, and even using a second K2 the results were repeated throughout the banks of tables. There were microphones and cables running along the inner edge of the horseshoe, and an illuminated panel on a podium appeared to indicate the system was live.

Credit:SJP

Waving the K2 to identify any massive peaks found it top out at 3 milligauss with no areas of peaking to red identified. A further check with my multi meter presented no voltage detected but a reading of 3.3 milli gauss around the cables. I could only conclude that the readings we had seen on both occasions were electromagnetic frequencies emitted by the set up in the room rather than anything paranormal. Another piece of interesting evidence debunked.

What we couldn’t explain was the sudden activation of the motion activated music box. The sensor was pointed towards the back wall (towards the cheap seats) and no one had moved anywhere near its angle of range. It may be an errant rodent but there was no evidence of rats or mice residing in the opulence of this room.

A second activation of the music box was followed by a visible power drain of my laser grid, which had been fully charged before tonight, prompting me to check this failing piece of equipment. In doing so my boot hit a cat ball, which you would expect to illuminate. But it remained resolutely dark. My crew mate was adamant that it was on when she put it down, and I had seen it flash when deployed. Pushing the little red button, it burst into life flashing red, blue and yellow. So I placed it back allowing it to reset before tapping it with my toe to be greeted with an explosion of coloured light.

My attention was diverted from the cat ball to the plasma ball as it was described as behaving weirdly. One of the female guests who was sat near it was reporting that she felt that she could not move, like a child who had been naughty and the eyes of a parent were upon her. The plasma ball was happily seeking for an earthing point on the side furthest from this particular guest but the tentacles facing her were resolutely static.

Credit:SJP

Moving the ball the effect was the same on the side closest to her, so I suggested that maybe she would be a good conduit for a human pendulum. In my blog I tend to not write about guests personal experiences, as they are personal. But the information that we gleaned raises a point of interest for myself, hitchhikers.

I’m not talking about the accounts of people who have stopped to pick up a sodden person from the side of the road only to discover them vanished on arriving at their destination. I’m talking about spirits who seem to find interest in a particular person and follow them around.

Ghost hunts are prime ground for any spirits to be able to communicate with this realm, mostly because we are actively asking for them to step forward and talk. You will often get Great Aunt Ethel or Uncle Bert come through on a board, even I have received personal messages when out at Maidstone Museum.

Usually we thank these spirits and give them a moment before asking them to step away but sometime its worth pursuing, but always mindful as not everything that purports to be friendly actually is. This is because 1, we are here to investigate the location and the hitchhiker cannot generally provide that information; and 2 because a personal message for one guest is not likely going to interest the rest of the group who have paid for an experience.

In this case, there was an interest in the story and the emotions displayed by the guest. The human pendulum provided some answers that corroborated her beliefs of who was trying to make contact.

We closed this session with a spirit board, but aside from a feeling of vibration coming from the planchette, and a feeling of a temperature drop (but the thermometer registered no change) no further communication was received.

Credit:SJP

Exchanging groups it was time for our second vigil, which saw my return to the Cellar. During the previous visit the word Candle appearing on the screen of the Chattergeist Touch had made me think (and make an equipment purchase).

I suggested to the group that we try something, that I hadn’t seen on any ghost hunt before – Candlemancy. Explaining the theory of using a lit candle that spirits could interact with, and the safeguards I had attempted to put in place to prevent errant gusts from interfering with the flame it was agreed and we commenced our first experiment.

Credit:SJP

Setting the candle in a deep glass container I lit the wick, the yellow flame cutting through the darkness of the tunnel-like structure. We establish communication, movement of the flame indicated ‘yes’, a static flame for ‘no’.

Asking around the circle the flame appeared to respond to questions but no links to the area were established. The experiment was on the whole enjoyed by the group but a lack of corroboration or meaningful responses means that further tweaking and maybe inclusion of additional equipment would add value.

Of note in lighting the candle the oppressive atmosphere that was prevalent on both occasion in the Cellar lifted almost at once – maybe the spirit who dwells below the hall just wanted some softer light for their room?

Sensing a slight reluctance in the physical use of the spirit board, I suggested the use of a hands-free option, producing the Chattergeist Touch. Setting it up with my prototype paper board the planchette freely spun. Adding an Alice Box into the mix enabled an element of corroboration, as when asked how many spirits are there here? The planchette pointed and the Alice box spoke the same word – Three.

Making contact with a spirit called Roger we flipped the board over to the ‘ye,no,maybe’ side. Roger said that he was still with us as you can see in the following video:

Continuing our questions Roger confirmed that he enjoyed our company, reiterating it with a screen colour change.

A similar report of a pacing guard, soldier or policeman was made walking backwards and forwards as felt during our first investigation. Was this Roger? It is difficult to say with the information we had gained. Searches for a Roger connected to the Town Hall have been inconclusive but it was good to see that even in such an oppressive environment that the Cellars had been there was something that did in fact enjoy our company.

One of the ideas suggested by a guest was to increase the number of colours that the Touch displayed during the planchette mode. This has been passed to Dimension Devices who have included this idea in the patch notes for the next update.

Our time below ground over it was time for a break, and it was interesting talking with the guests over a well-deserved cup of coffee and a slice of birthday cake how many similarities had been discovered during their vigils to this time on the last investigation. The names William, George and John featured, as well as Elizabeth and Sarah. Activations of cat balls, K2s and Rem-pods had all been witnessed.

Revitalised by our break, we called for our final group and headed to the top, to finish our evening in the Cells.

Credit:SJP

Catching our breath, the guests familiarised themselves with the room, reading the graffiti and minding the roped off section. We set up a plasma ball, cat balls and K2s and commenced an Estes session. Pulling a chair into the further cell the sitter sat and the safety light went out. “Dick” came from the sitter. I asked if that was in reference to anyone here or if the name was Richard. “Yeah” came the reply.

Over the 2 male sitters the words were uncomfortable “Rape,” “would her” and words that the sitters refused to repeat came through the static of the Spirit Box. The atmosphere felt close and tense, the subject matter raised clearly upsetting.

Credit:SJP

Further research could not uncover a Richard sentenced with sexual offences and no Richard appears on the Penenden Heath hanging lists for the offence of rape (burglary and highway robbery but nothing correlating to what we received).

Placing several objects on a shelf on the opposite wall I asked any one present to move it, push it and even challenged to throw it at me. But there was no indication of movement at all. Suddenly we heard the sound of the door at the bottom of the stairs open and close I looked, expecting to see someone coming up the stairs. No one was present and on checking no one had been near the door whilst we were in the cells.

I took some photos, illuminated by my UV torch as my red torch had decided to give up the ghost, but nothing was uncovered.

Credit:SJP

Our time had been served and it was time to close the evening with more questions than we had answers but also having had some really interesting experiences.

Collecting my locked off experiments, the letters on the board in the cell did not appear to be moved, and my chalk board had received no message from the other side.

Before Credit:SJP

After Credit:SJP

Before Credit:SJP

After Credit:SJP

My thoughts on the way home revolved around my head. There were so many similarities to what had been experienced in the Town Hall.

The Cells had provided very consistent feelings with all the guests, a sense of foreboding, of anger and fear. The names John and William recurred during all the sessions and appeared on devices used in the location. One thought of this was priming, our guests were told the room was used to hold prisoners, the names John and William are also documented amongst the graffiti on the walls and floor.

There is a lack of known information about who was held in the cells, documented evidence does show that prisoners were held here awaiting deportation, but there is a lack of clarity as it appears the Town Hall cells were not the only place of incarceration for the Assizes.

The cells were decommission in the mid 1820’s apparently after a scandal was caused during a prisoner escape. I could find no record of this daring feat and would love to know more about who and how this was accomplished.

Prisoners were not executed in or near the building as records show that executions were held on the other side of town at Penenden Heath until moved to Maidstone Prison. So if the spirits we encountered had been deported or departed elsewhere why would they return to this dingy wood lined box in the centre of town?

Credit:SJP

The Cellar is another interesting space, the only thing that appeared to lift the oppressive atmosphere was the lighting of a candle. Similarities between both nights were that there was this feeling of something pacing like a guard. The tunnels usage has no record but is believed to stretch for quite a distance with a shop on the corner of Gabriels Hill reporting tunnels under their shop. These are believed to have belonged to a 14th century abbey that was constructed but was not put

into operation with its crypts and vaults filled in to create basements for the shops and buildings that came later. Which would probably explain why no reports of phantom monks, nuns or clergy were reported.

Credit:SJP

The Council Chamber was odd, with differing reports from those who entered there on different nights. The first night receiving a young boy called Alexander and the second engaging with a guests hitchhiker over anything resident.

I love it when guests make contact to share their own experiences and research, as I can only write from mine and any additional research that people can find is always useful. One guest wrote to me with her experiences of the night, and I found her experience in the Chamber really interesting.

She reported an impression of masonic rituals, secret societies and a need to be ‘male’. She shared the sound contamination problem and concurred with my assessed of K2 activity and proximity to cabling. Further research I uncovered that Robinson Lodge No. 2046 was consecrated at 1430 hours on Friday 7th November 1884. That consecration and many subsequent lodge meetings were held at the Town Hall. So the perception of ‘ladies nights’ and the removal of female fingers from the table was very apt as her group then finally saw some activity from the table tipping experiment they were performing.

So when looking at the variables, did they impact across both nights? The answer is yes. There appeared to be more activity from the experiments that we conducted on night 2 over night 1, but it is interesting that not all responses were the same. The appearance of a hitchhiker and the masonic connection appear unique to those that experienced them, but both groups of guests put everything into both nights.

You could therefore say that as long as everyone gives there all on an investigation then some of the spirits will communicate, but they might not be the same ones or even the ones that you expect.

Credit:SJP

As I have said, even after my research of what we uncovered over these two fantastic nights, I still have so many questions of who or what remains at the Town Hall. I’m hoping one day to return would you join me?

If you want to find out if you are brave enough, then join Ghost Hunter Tours (GHT) on an investigation click here to find tickets for some fantastic venues. I can’t do them all (as much as I want to) but follow me on Instagram or Facebook to find out where I will be heading next.

If you are interested in the Chattergeist Touch then all the information and a 10% off in the shop are available by clicking here.

SJP is an affiliate of GHT and Dimension Devices. Sales through these links will earn me commission.

Cells, Chambers and Cellars: Part 1, Maidstone Town Hall

I have always been fascinated by repeated investigations at a location, and not just because its an excuse to give to Mrs J to go out and investigate. From Maurice Grosse and Guy Lyon Playfair pretty much living in Green Street over the 2 years of their investigation into the Enfield Poltergeist to Harry Price renting Borley Rectory for 365 days to produce his results. Repetition serves to gain further advancement of knowledge, identify patterns and coincidences and evolve investigative techniques to delve further into the murky depths of these haunted locations.

Ghost Hunter Tours (GHT) have been lucky to secure Maidstone’s Town Hall for 2 nights and in this two-part post we will look at the secrets this historic building has to offer, how a change in guests influences the results and what consistencies we get across both nights.

Credit: SJP

The beating heart of Kent’s county town by day is like any modern high street flanked by big brand coffee shops, restaurants and shops, but after the sun sets it transforms. The clattering of high heels across the pavement, the low rumble of the bass from the clubs and the smashing glass of pubs emptying their empties juxtapose with the small gathering of sober ghost hunters assembling at Maidstone’s Town Hall.

It is not just the current configuration of bricks and mortar that provide evidence of the paranormal, as some theories purport that the land on which a building is built can also offer insight to the past.

Law and order has been meted out from the Middle Row since the erection of the first courthouse in 1587. This building was duel purpose, with civic leaders conducting their business from the first floor whilst Judges and Magistrates provided over the matters of life and death on the floor below.  Such was the demand of criminals awaiting trial and sentencing a second courthouse was constructed a few yards east of the original with the new building being called the Upper Courthouse, the older being the Lower Courthouse.

The Town Hall as it stands today was constructed on the site of the Lower Courthouse, which was demolished in 1759. The Neoclassical building of Portland Stone and red brick was completed and officially opened in 1763.

Our point of contact for this evening was Ray, and as the crew assembled bearing tables, tea urns and spirit boards (along with all our other equipment) it was not long before we were ascending many, many stairs to meet our venue for the night.

Credit: SJP

Our tour started at the top of the building. Here were the cells that housed those destined to be forcefully removed from our shores. Their stories, thoughts and prayers etched into the wooden panels on the walls and floor, the last testament of the damned. As we read these accounts a burst of laughter filled the space as we discovered, as if you give a man something to draw on and something to draw with, a myriad of penises of all shapes and sizes.

Marking the cells as one of the vigil areas we descended to the first floor to explore the Main Council Chamber. A very different feel from the poverty of cells, the varnished wood panels engraved with the names of those who had served the County Town glittered under the decorative lights on the ceiling.

Credit:SJP

The room was set up for a council meeting, a horseshoe of tables sitting in front of rows of chairs. The sounds of the emerging nightlife could be heard through the large windows which could prove a contamination issue if we received knocks or raps during our experiments. But this being the preferred room, over the adjoining conference room, it was marked as the second vigil space.

The final space was the subterranean tunnel, a white-painted-brick tunnel in the basement of the Hall. As we filed through the wooden fire doors the space immediately felt oppressive and very different from the rest of the building that we had explored. The third vigil space had been identified.

Credit:SJP

We returned to ground level, and as the final preparations were made for our guests I went back to the cells to set up a locked off experiment – a set of handcuffs and a Metropolitan police whistle, their outlines traced I spoke into the dusty gloom inviting anyone who wanted to move the objects to do so.

On my return to the ground floor, our guests were already arriving and soon a hush of anticipation descended. The muffled sounds of those seeking spirits of the alcoholic kind could be heard through the windows and then a heavy clunk that sounded like door handle turning and shooting back on a spring.

As the briefing continued a few of the crew went to investigate and soon returned not being able to find the cause of the phantom noise. Hoping this would be a foreshadowing omen that the spirits of the Town Hall were interested in what we were upto the game of “who can remember their group number?” was played – the winners forming small huddles whilst the losers queued to recheck the sign in sheets.

Calling for my group we began to climb the stairs to the Cells and begin our first session of the night.

Arriving at the top of the building, we caught our breath before setting out a variety of K2s, Cat balls and a Ghost Detector. The group wanted to try an Estes Session, and minding the roped off section of the floor the first sitter had been blindfolded and was receiving the steady stream of noise from the spirit box app through a pair of blue tooth headphones.

“Are you a man?” came the first question; “Help me” returned in response. As the questions flowed with no discernible answer from the sitter reports of a cold draft were made by several within the room. A K2 started flickering and from the sitter we heard “William killed me and he went mental” followed by “Murder the bitch!” and “History made it.”

As the headphones were handed over to the next sitter, the previous conduit said that there were several different voices but not all were discernible. There was a scared female voice who said that William killed her and a very domineering male voice who was constantly threatening and appeared to shout over every other voice.

In researching murdering Williams the list of convicted criminals hanged at Penenden Heath has 2 of note that were likely to have been housed in the cells where we were now stood, William Donellan who dropped for the murder of his wife on the 8^th August 1823 and William Brown.

William Brown a private in the royal artillery whose duties involved acting as servant to his Lieutenant, a man by the name of Webber. On 4^th April 1812 Brown was suspected of theft and absented himself from the barracks. Brown returned the following morning stating that he had committed a crime for which he should be hanged and booked himself into the guard house. He confessed that as he was walking in the country he crossed a stile leading to a lane where a 7 year old Isabella McGuire was playing. His presence caused her to cry and Brown seized her in his arms, using his finger and thumb to strangle her. He continued to carry the limp body for some distance before leaving her on some steps. A case of madness? Brown stated he had no malice against the child and yet on the morning of the 10th August 1812 he swung for his insanity.

So was Brown still residing in the cells? Was Isabella still with him, as a comfort or a continued torment we cannot truly say. But with a new sitter donning the headphones it was time to meet John.

The graffiti on the wall inscribed ‘John Davis 3 times here to please his wife and Scott’ and the legend tells of John the cuckold. John liked a drink, his wife apparently enjoyed the company of Scott even more and so when John was three sheets to wind she would call the local policeman who would take him away to the cells to sleep it off. This provided John’s wife time to play with Scott whilst her husband languished above the High Street. They always say the third times the charm, but for John it was the straw that broke the donkeys back, as when he returned home he made sure that his wife and Scott could not succumb to earthly desires anymore. 

Credit:SJP

The sitter proclaimed “John didn’t kill Sarah” and interestingly no John Davis is listed on the hanging lists for Maidstone so maybe the Judge took leniency on his predicament or, more likely his wife and Scott continued to live whilst John continued to drink.

A third change of sitter and this time we were told to run. Why run we asked “bail” “tortured” “Indecision” came the response.

Not finding this a reason to run we divided into the two groups, the first with a spirit board and glass, and mine with a non-touch option.

If you have followed my blog you will know that my favourite bit of equipment if the Chattergeist Touch, a swiss army knife of spirit communication. A new update had launched in the days before this investigation which included a planchette mode.

Sat on the floor with the Touch sat on a crudely designed wheel of letters and numbers my group started to ask questions.

The planchette spun but the design of the board made us question what was being pointed to, as so I flipped the board to a simpler ‘yes’, ’no’ and ‘maybe’ design. The spirts seemed to have fun pointing to the lines rather than to any answers, until the safety light extinguished plunging us all into darkness.

During our initial walk-around with Ray, he told us that the light would always stay on, so the sudden status change raised a few questions. Torch out I tried to trace the cables to find a switch or a timer but could not find anything that would provide an explanation.

Calling time on our stint in the cells we returned to the ground floor to change groups. Before heading to the Counsel Chamber for our second session I disturbed Ray’s Netflix binge to ask him about the safety light. He was confused as I was and said that it should always remain on. So being no further forward on the case of the disappearing light I tagged onto the back of my new group as we got ourselves comfortable in the Chamber.

Setting up a laser grid, a Rem-Bunny and the plasma ball the group started to become accustomed to the space. As I placed a K2 on the horseshoe of tables it registered a medium reading with both green lights and an orange displayed. I moved the device around the tables and it continued to show this base reading.

Credit:SJP

We ran a couple of simultaneous experiments in this room, setting up a mirror for scrying and one of the guests adorned the headphones and tucked them selves at the back of the cheap seats for and Estes session.

Asking questions to the sitter we established a 10 year old boy named Alex. An Alice box app running confirmed Alexander. Young Alex kept asking us to listen, to help as he was desperate before announcing “I am dead.” This group had already met a George in their first session in the Cellar. George was Alex’s friend, who helped him to hide from Mike and Mark. Mike and Mark lived in the cellar and were not friendly towards Alex – who called “Death to Mike” when asked who he was.

This conversation was eerie, as if things that were unsaid did not need to be stated. A feeling of abuse or something equally as sinister pervaded the atmosphere, it felt that even in death Alex was not safe.

Some interesting coincidences during this session occurred with the same words or phrases being produced from the sitter and the Alice box. The name Alexander, the phrase Help Me and at the conclusion of the session Thank You occurring in unison.

Research has not uncovered an Alexander, a Mike or a Mark with any connection but if you search George Maidstone Town Hall one name stands out - George Joseph Smith infamous for the Brides in the Bath Murders who took the long drop at Maidstone Prison (but with no obvious connection to the Town Hall).  

As we were packing up I noticed the plasma ball behaving very strangely. 2 tentacles appeared to being manipulated flicking from one side then the other.

A very interesting phenomenon to end this session with.

During the break I managed to grab a coffee and share some of the stories from the other groups. It was interesting that the names John, William and George featured, as well as activity reported from some of the devices deployed.

After the cups were collected it was time to descend to the Cellar for the final session of the night.

Opening the fire doors the oppressive feeling remained and we deployed cat balls and a K2. The group opted to open with some table tipping but we received no activity through the folding table.

A human pendulum was attempted next which after some cajoling and encouragement spelt out H O P E M I E E M N through reciting the alphabet until the subject lurched forward to signify the letter. Understanding that HOPE was spelled out we tried to clarify the final letters when suddenly the sound of footsteps were heard clearly from outside the room. Immediately going to check for any alive person outside the room I discovered the hallway empty and received no response to my call out.

On my return the pendulum continued correcting its spelling M I R J which made equally as much sense as the original letters. The spirit interaction with the pendulum appeared to wane and so we closed down that experiment to explore something else that had caught the groups attention.

A cat ball had started to activate and It felt that something was pacing backwards and forwards from the door to the end wall, like a soldier on patrol. The group could almost trace its movement as heads started to follow in unison from one end to the other and back again. Pulling out my K2 as the heads turned to look at me the LED’s started to dance and then stop as whatever it was moved away.

Wanting to see if I could obtain any other sensory data I grabbed one of my new toys a multi meter, that measures EMF, Voltage and temperature. Soon dowsing rods came into play and the feeling of pacing had left us. Everything became focused on the hole in the wall.

The dowsing rods were pointing, the K2 was flashing Red and my multi meter was solely recording EMF frequencies that were building turning the screen red with the amount detected.

I pulled the Touch from my pocket and saw the word Candle flash on the screen moments before it refreshed. Clearly there was something interacting, but what it was I could not say.

You are always fighting time, and our time in Maidstone’s Town Hall was up. As we packed up our equipment in the cellar our guests headed off to say goodbye and sign out. I had one final experiment to conclude and so made my way back to the Cells.

Taking some photographs I dismantled the locked off experiment and packed it away. Taking a final look around to make sure there was no equipment left behind, I jumped at the sound of footsteps behind me. It was Ray coming to check no one had been left behind and close up.

Before Credit:SJP

After Credit:SJP

As we walked back down to the ground floor, checking for anything left behind I asked Ray if he, having spent a lot of time in the hall after hours, had experienced anything. He hadn’t, but he did have a friend who had, but that was his story to tell.

As I wondered off into the night, accosted by drunk women who were definitely wearing their beer-goggles I had many thoughts; the group of guests we had were amazing, the stories of those that lived, worked and were held here are really intriguing and what a great location to explore – especially as I would be back in 4 short weeks for a second night.

So stay tuned for Cells, Chambers and Cellars: Part 2, Maidstone Town Hall coming to SJP next week.

 

If you want to find out if you are brave enough then join Ghost Hunter Tours (GHT) on an investigation click here to find tickets for some fantastic venues. I can’t do them all (as much as I want to) but follow me on Instagram or Facebook to find out where I will be heading next.

If you are interested in the Chattergeist Touch then all the information and a 10% off in the shop are available by clicking here.

SJP is an affiliate of GHT and Dimension Devices. Sales through these links will earn me commission.