Everything is still. The crickets have stopped chirping. The peepers are silenced. The wind itself has stopped moving about the trees. The world around us has slowed to focus on Joseph Wells, standing here in his ghostly form.
Joseph, why did you guide us here from the crossroads? What is our use to you? He raises his arm and extends his finger. He is pointing somewhere! To the edge of the graveyard, it appears…maybe something is beyond the last headstone. What are we meant to find? Where are we to go? --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Welsh folklore suggests that there are three types of ghosts: Spirits of the dead, spirits of the living, and goblins and demons raised by witches. Goblins and demons are maliciously summoned in order to cause harm and torment to an individual. Ghosts of the living are glimpses of a spirit wandering about while the body sleeps. An example of this would be to see your spouse walk through the kitchen only to find them napping in bed. Spirits of the dead, on the other hand, are the ghosts of those who have departed this plane of existence but have unfinished business remaining. These spirits will eventually find rest when their work is completed, but they need mortal assistance for this to occur. Elva Zona Heaster Shue was one such spirit. A young newlywed woman from Lewisburg, West Virginia, Zona was discovered unresponsive in her home by a neighbor boy. It appeared based on her positioning of her body at the bottom of a staircase, the distraught state of her husband, and the medical examination by the coroner, that she has passed due to a fatal heart attack. Her husband would not leave the body of his wife until she was buried, sobbing and bemoaning his loss during the entirety of the medical examination as well as while putting her into her casket. Zona, however, made certain that the truth was revealed. After her funeral, Zona, in spectral form, visited her mother multiple times. She recounted that her husband had lost his temper toward her (not for the first time, mind you) and broke her neck in a fit of rage. She insisted that this come to light. Her husband needed to pay for his crimes. At the bequest of Zona’s mother, her daughter’s body was exhumed and examined again—this time without physical interference and dramatic theatrics from the husband. Zona’s scarf (an item of clothing her husband placed on her body under the pretense that it was beloved by her) was removed to reveal fingerprints around her neck. Her windpipe had been crushed, her neck dislocated, and ligaments in her neck were destroyed. Further investigation revealed that Zona’s husband had been married twice prior. Both of his wives passed away suddenly due to ‘accidents.’ He was sent to trial and convicted rather quickly. He lived the rest of his days at the state penitentiary in Moundsville, West Virginia. No additional stories survive of Zona revisiting this realm after her husband was sent to prison. Her business was finally finished. With his conviction and subsequent punishment, Zona helped not only herself move beyond the veil but perhaps also his other former wives whom he undoubtedly murdered. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Well, Joseph is not moving anywhere, and he is pointing in that direction. Let’s start walking beyond the cemetery and see what we can find while following that vague direction. It is rather dark, though, so watch your step! Ah, yes! Lightning bugs are sparkling ahead. Look at them amongst the branches of that tree. So odd that I don’t see them flashing anywhere else but in those branches. We will see the type of tree as we get closer. A huge willow! I must admit this is my favorite kind of tree! I know why we are to here now! We must uncover something…but, first, pay close attention to the shape of these branches. Which one should we choose, traveler? Until next time, Heather Further Reading: Farley, Jeremy T. K. Appalachian Magazine Presents Mountain Superstitions, Ghost Stories & Haint Tales: A Collection of Memories & Commentaries from the Mountains of Appalachia. StatelyTies Media, 2018. Jenkins, David Erwyd. Bedd Gelert, Its Facts, Fairies, & Folk-Lore. L. Jenkins, 1899. *For anyone unfamiliar with peepers (tree frogs): https://youtu.be/oNhIprMEL78
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Yes, traveler, the blue flame wants us to figure out who rests here at this stone. Bits and pieces are missing, and it is so worn. This is going to require a bit of magic and patience. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Some of the best evidence we have today regarding how the people of the ancient world lived lies within the study of funerary markers that have survived the millennia. Rarely are these headstones in pristine condition, often with entire sections altogether missing or so horribly worn that one has to truly study the stone to decipher what once was engraved upon it. The study of inscriptions is called epigraphy, and it is through this discipline that a better understanding of the life of an average person in the ancient world, such as in Rome or Greece, is revealed. Often history books focus on the lavish life of the rulers of ancient civilizations with little attention paid to the average person; however, through the study of headstones, one can get a glimpse into the ideals held most dear by the society, infant mortality rates, and even clues as to how the language was spoken. You see, illiteracy was highly common amongst professional engravers, so they would carve the inscription based on how it sounded, not necessarily how it was actually spelled. For example, we can be certain that the Romans pronounced their x as a ks (just as we do today in the US), because we have Latin inscriptions with the word uxor (wife) spelled as uksor. The discipline of epigraphy requires careful study, as ancient inscriptions are formulaic. Once you get an idea of what certain abbreviations mean, that will help you decipher broken inscriptions as they often follow a particular pattern. The same goes with specific military posts, regions, and naming conventions. Knowing this pattern has also allowed epigraphic scholars to reconstruct not only missing pieces from headstones but also much longer inscriptions from larger works such as triumphal arches, with only a few letters remaining from several lines of text. Although we don’t have the exact same conventions of, say, the ancient Romans, when it comes to our tombstones, we actually aren’t that much different. But before one can safely decipher any inscription, assuming there is anything left to read, we have to be VERY gentle with the headstone. Often seekers get carried away with reading old headstones and unintentionally do more harm to the stone in an attempt to see what was once carved there. We have to be aware of these dangers and ensure that we use safe techniques to preserve the stone as long as possible; and, of course, it is of utmost important to RECORD, RECORD, RECORD, as these inscriptions may not survive another generation. -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Alright, so, even with the light from our blue flame friend, we need extra assistance. Just…a…second. Here! Hold this mirror just so. The reflection from the blue flame will help cast shadows. THERE! We can get some understanding now. Here we go. Focus! DMS Here lies Jo__p_ Well_ Aged 19 _ 6 mos 4_ B_l_v_d s_n Oh! Excellent! I think we can figure this out! You know some Latin, right?! DMS is typical for ‘dis manibus sacrum’ which means sacred to the spirits of the dead. Yes! “Sacred to the Spirits of the Dead. Here lies Joseph Wells. Aged 19 years, 6 months, 4 days. Beloved son.” Oh my! He was so young! I wonder what happened?! Look! The blue flame is bouncing about with excitement! OK—Say it with me! “Sacred to the Spirits of the Dead. Here lies Joseph Wells. Aged 19 years, 6 months, 4 days.” Focus! The flame is getting even brighter!!! Oh my!!! It is transforming! Do you see this? It is growing and shaping into a person! But….the spirit isn't complete. The head is missing! ….remain calm…we will figure this out…. We are here for a reason. Stand with me, traveler. Do not despair. We are meant to be here…right here…right now… Until next time, Heather Further Reading: Harvey, Brian K. Roman Lives: Ancient Roman Life as Illustrated by Latin Inscriptions. Focus, 2004. Suggested Reading/Cleaning of Headstones: https://cemeteryconservatorsunitedstandards.org/ Traveler, dearest friend, do you remember our picnic? When we stopped the Caravan at the most picturesque spot. We traveled there specifically because you wanted to see one of your favorite places, the coast, again. It was beautiful.
You knew the best route to take and exactly where we could safely park the Caravan. You remember, don’t you? We stepped down into the tall grass that was budding with yellow and purple wildflowers, the breeze from the ocean caused the entire field to look like it was moving in waves, mimicking those that were crashing on the shore not far from where we stood. We walked to the edge of the bluff and stayed there for hours, breathing in the saltwater and the sound of the Pacific carving away at the base of the cliff far below us. The seagulls flew high then dove low, looking for anything to eat. A pair of robins happily flitted around the meadow, most likely accumulating what was needed to finish their nest. We sat together for hours as we watched the sunset and the moonrise. We counted the stars. It was serene. The moment was perfect. It is how I will always remember you. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- There are a number of symbols in folklore to help us know that a departed loved one is nearby, they are well, and they are at peace. These signs should be a source of comfort for those mourning. Before delving into common signs, however, it should be said that the MOST important sign is the one that you recognize. You know…the one that as soon as you see it, you smile and nod with acknowledgment. This could be a song on the radio, a familiar scent out of nowhere, or an old picture slipping out of a book after having been tucked away years prior, just waiting for the right moment to meet your eyes again. In Appalachian folklore, Luna Moths represent souls of those who have passed from this world. It is a symbol of transformation. Other beliefs hold that seeing a butterfly, often in the most unlikely of places, is a sign from the deceased. It is a way to say goodbye one last time. Sometimes the glowing orbs that have been known as spook lights are souls of the departed, conveying a message. If you are really fortunate, you may get a chance to communicate with your loved one through dreams. Other times a certain animal relays the message and helps you heal through the grief; a dog unfamiliar to you shows up long enough for you to greet it before it turns away and leaves; a particular bird may appear as well… ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As I sit here, I am thinking back on that moment we shared. That perfect moment in time. How I will always remember you. As I sit here, I wrack my brain with questions like if I could have done something different, would you still be here to reminisce with me? Could we argue again over who saw the most shooting stars that night on the coast? (You did, but I will never admit it.) I sit here, and I grieve. I mourn; I doubt myself. Could I, in your lowest moment, have helped pull you out of the darkness and back into the light if only I had been there? And I know, departed traveler, that you are here with me to ease my earthly heartache. I know this because you sent me a robin just now. An injured, hobbled robin has appeared before me, and I am the only one here who can help. For a moment I break down, somehow more intensely than I have since I first heard you were gone. I know this is you. You are here, even for a fleeting moment. So, through tear filled eyes, I will pick up the robin and carry it to safety. I will watch as it disappears just as quickly as it appeared, and I will say my goodbyes. I miss you already. I miss you always. Until next time, dear friend. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- **If you or someone you know needs help, please utilize any of the resources listed below. Reach out to friends and family. Remember, you are important, you are loved, and you are not alone. National (US) Hotline: 1-800-273-8255 (Press 1 if you are a veteran) https://suicidepreventionlifeline.org/ https://www.dbsalliance.org/crisis/suicide-hotline-helpline-information/ https://www.veteranscrisisline.net/ Well, I think we can safely say that this blue flame is pleased that we are following it. It has stayed very calm in its movements for the last couple of hours, floating down the center of the road, clear as day. Have you noticed that it is steadily getting brighter?
OH! There it goes into the trees! Time to climb down off of the vardo. Watch your step! There is no need to rush. I am certain the flame will wait for us to follow if it has its own story to tell. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- As we know, sometimes these spook lights lead one to an important location, such as the blue flame that led a son to the body of his father who passed deep in the mines. Of course, they can also be tricky and simply lead people astray for mischief’s sake, but I don’t think this is the intent here. I don’t want to frighten you, traveler, but you should know before you continue down this path with me that sometimes ghost lights serve as a warning to those who witness it. The Candle of the Dead, for example, is visible only to those who are about to lose a loved one or are near imminent demise themselves. The Candle is known to manifest at the home of whomever is about to die and follow the path of the impending funeral procession to the place of burial. Other times it appears at the graveyard and heads to the house soon to be plagued by tragedy. The Candle gets its name due to the appearance of a flame, and if you are able to get close enough, you may see a spirit holding it. Being able to clearly see the spirit may give you a clue as to whom is slated to pass. In a similar fashion of leading the way to a soon-to-be-occupied grave, spook lights can be accompanied by a moan that sounds as if someone is in the throes of death. This, of course, is cause for concern. The Cyhyraeth, a Welsh creature reminiscent of the Banshee, will wail three times, with each successive cry becoming fainter. This event happens prior to a death or tragedy. It is a harbinger of doom, if you will. Such sights and sounds have even been reported before a shipwreck that inevitably precedes sailors meeting their watery grave. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The appearance of these kinds of spook lights has long filled their witnesses with terror; but, please do not worry. Are you feeling any sense of fear? Do you hear any moaning cries? No? Neither do I. Do you think I would insist we follow such a creature? Of course not! See, the flame is moving slowly now through the trees. I told you it would wait for us! The light is getting brighter. Mind your feet and watch the briars. We are walking on little more than a deer trail here: the trees are closing in, branches low, and the brush is getting thicker. I wonder where we are headed. We are nearly through the trees. It appears there is a clearing ahead of some sort. Yes, look! The flame has stopped! It is hovering over something. An old cemetery! Long forgotten, clearly. Do you see some of the dates here? Hundreds of years old! Our flame is lingering over one stone in particular. Let’s try to decipher why that may be. Goodness…this stone is broken and so incredibly worn. Even with the bright light from the flame, I can’t quite make out who is buried here, but I have a feeling we are supposed to find out…. Until next time, Heather Further Reading: Jenkins, D.E., et all. Bedd Gelert: Its Facts, Fairies, & Folklore. (Based upon the Articles by Mr. William Jones in Y Brython.) … With Translations of Poetry by the Rev. H.E. Lewis and an Introduction by Principal J. Rhys. Llewelyn Jenkins, 1899. p. 84 Sikes, Wirt. British Goblins: Welsh Folk Lore, Fairy Mythology, Legends and Traditions. 1881. p. 219-222. Is that…is that a lantern coming down the path to our right? Someone else must be heading to the crossroads this evening! I guess we shouldn’t be surprised that others may have business to attend to in such a powerful area.
Maybe we should stick around a moment and introduce ourselves to a fellow traveler. It’s best to be cordial as often as possible. You never know when someone you meet may be your ally at a later time. What a beautiful flame in that lantern--such a haunting blue. I will have to inquire as to what magic our soon-to-be-friend utilizes to achieve such a ghastly glow. Perhaps I could employ it on the caravan. Can you make out a face yet? The flame is getting closer, but I can’t quite see who or what is carrying it. We have been out here long enough that our eyes should be adjusted to see at least a hint of an outline, but it almost looks like it is floating all on its own. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ There are accounts of spook lights in folklore all around the world. These mysterious lights, although we may never definitively know what causes them, are known to flit about in an intelligent manner, seemingly beckoning those who see it to follow. Often those who are curious enough to follow the light are led astray for hours, eventually finding themselves lost when it disappears. The lights are not always full of trickery and malice, however. Sometimes, the lights have a critical message to communicate. Sometimes, they shouldn’t be ignored. Many years ago, deep in the mines that riddle the mountains of West Virginia, an explosion claimed the life of a man…a father. This was not the first mining explosion, of course, and it certainly wasn’t the last, but what followed was fairly unique. The miner’s body was not able to be recovered after the explosion and the following day the miner’s son had to go to work in his stead, as was so often the case in those days. The family had to eat. Someone needed to work. The young man entered the mines that day undoubtedly wracked with grief. Perhaps the only emotion strong enough to override the heartache was the trepidation he must have felt entering the mine that had only recently become his father’s tomb. After a short while, the son managed to get himself turned around and separated from the other miners. He was lost. He was completely isolated for some time until a blue flame appeared suddenly. Although it was an unfamiliar sight, he was curious enough to follow it. He didn’t know his way out of the mine, anyway. Perhaps this was the only thing that made sense to him at the time. The flame wound deeper and deeper into the mines, pausing for the boy to catch up if ever he fell behind. Eventually the air thinned to an uncomfortable level. However, boy’s concern over his dwindling ability to breathe was brushed aside momentarily as he began to hear someone call his name. The voice came from farther down the dark tunnels. He followed both the flame as well as the echoes of the voice deeper still until something extraordinary happened. The flame began to manipulate itself in such a way that the young man saw an image within its blue hues: his father. The boy ran toward this projection as fast as he could; however, just as he got within reach, it disappeared. Instead of holding his father one final time, the boy stumbled into a hole. When he gathered himself, the flame was gone, and in front of him was the body of his father. The young man was finally able to say goodbye. The body was recovered, and the family could mourn their loss with a proper burial. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ You know, the more I think about this, the more I think we need to hop back up in the Caravan. Maybe no one is carrying that flame…at least no one of our realm. We have done what is needed here, and I think maybe that blue flame has a message of some sort. It has our attention now. Who are we to ignore such a thing? Like I said earlier, it is best to be friendly whenever possible. Come…let’s see where this may lead. Until next time, Heather Further Reading: Musick, Ruth Ann. The Telltale Lilac Bush and Other West Virginia Ghost Tales. University of Kentucky Press, 1965. |
Author- Heather Moser & Lady AnnParanormal Experiencer; Truth Seeker, Spooky Explorer. Archives
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