As a child, I had been attracted to the malignant, the odd and the unique. While others would run from the praying mantis skulking on the rosebush, I’d feed it a fly. Pick a horror movie and I watched it, sitting on the floor Indian-style with my eyes glued to the flickering television screen. This propensity to go in the dark, the gothic, the unknown is what drew me to the world of the ghost. Perhaps it was myself dying as a teenager that fixated me on the other side. Being in this solid world, I’m curious as to where I went and what I did when I was not-of-this earthly plane.
Being a writer, and a published author, gave me the chance of a lifetime when I came across the Ghost Seekers of Central New York presenting their haunted evidence to a packed historical society in Utica. After the onslaught of dark seeker groupies dispersed, I introduced myself and pitched a book. A written chronicle of the adventures and evidence obtained in seeking contact from the other side.
I was thrilled to go along, and after a few investigations, I was asked to join the group as a paranormal investigator. Doing investigations in asylums, ancient churches, Victorian mansions and spooky theaters, is better than I ever imagined it would be. Hunting the spirits becomes addicting and teasing from the shadow people makes you want to meet them even more.
You can say that my obsession has become an addiction and a compulsion. So why do I chase ghosts? Perhaps it’s to finally see my own dead spirit that left me years ago so we might be reunited. Or it might just be the opportunity to verify that we do indeed go on living after our earthly husks have rotted back into the dust of the crust.
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