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there are no ghosts you morons... PS...there is no tooth fairy either anyone who says otherwise is a nutcase

Oh really, Mike? I have in my possession a notorized, hand-written letter from Ebenezer Scrooge stating otherwise.

I've said it before on this forum if ghosts were true, there would be so many of them we couldn't walk outside without seeing one. Dead people outnumber living people by at least 1000 to 1...Funny how the gullible get sucked into that crap. There is more proof for the Loch Ness monster and bigfoot than for ghosts. Sorry to be so blunt but sometimes that's what it takes to wake you up.

It doesn't matter if they are "real" or not, just like it doesn't matter if the tooth fairy or Santa Claus are real. What matters is that it's fun, even for pretend! Who doesn't like to hear a good ghost story when you're camping?? I know I do, even if they aren't "real." And personaly, I can't wait for Arnie to finish his story, even though I don't neccesarily believe in ghosts!

Arnie - Are you a ghost?

Gee Mike, I understand that God's been around for quite awhile, and that he's pretty much everywhere; are you going to tell all these people that, since we haven't seen him around, he doesn't exist?

Can't we just stick to the spooky stories without this becoming a debate on the existence of ghosts and God????? If you want to believe in one or the other or both, great! If not, great, too! Just shaddup about it on this thread. I'm just here to read a scary story.

Yep, God's been actually chitchatting with the ghosts and dispatching them to areas of maximum receptivity -- He follows the travel magazines' design requirements such that only hotels of a certain age and venerability, as well as in "proper" parts of town, are deemed worthy of haunting. He's also been organizing the alien visitations -- He only permits alien sightings in rural areas where there's a certain percentage of pickup trucks and secluded roadways. Having been intrigued with modern ideas of haunting, however, he's moved up to setting certain parts of the American southwest to vibrating and sending images of vortexes (vortices) into the brains of people who wear Birkenstocks or turquoise jewelry. Some of His more amazing accomplishments have also included convincing certain Protestant clergy that participation in extreme rightwing politics is dear to His heart; promising the very wealthy that the crumbs from their tables will feed the multitudes in the same way that He feed his followers with loaves and fishes; and -- most wondrous of all -- compelling certain adherents of Islams that killing themselves and thousands of others will somehow save Creation.

Can we just help Shelley with suggestions about hotels with a reputation for ghosts or other hauntings?

I guess Artie bailed on us...he probably can't think up an ending to a story!! What do you think?

As I mentioned in a previous post, a google search yields nothing on Syrus Aekney or inn of same name in Maine. I think Arnie is a frustrated yarn-spinner who can't bring his story to a climax.

Cluck, you forgot to mention His advise to members of the Catholic clergy to diddle little boys. Yes, His ways are mysterious to us mortals, but we must have faith that He is leading us to salvation and delivering us from evil.

katarina: Natalie found the name, author and publishing house while doing research at the library - book is out of print. And I don't care if Arnie is a yarn-spinner - he's damn good at it!

Shelley: You say you have been to many haunted hotels - why don't you share your experiences?

Wow! My parents have a coffee table type book called "Hauntings" and after reading this post I went and looked in the index. There is a reference to one "S. Aeckney" and a black and white picture of a dilapidated (sp?) building near the coast in Maine. It doesn't say much except "setting of gruesome murders and multiple sightings". Just thought some of you might be interested.

Sorry about the wait... Now, it might make for a better story if I could tell you that on the night of February 10th, 1980 there was a fierce storm brewing. The fact of the matter is, however, that the night of “the occurrence” there was nary a cloud in the sky nor a howling wind to be heard. The sky was black—not even a sliver of moon peaking through. “Dead calm” would best describe the conditions, but only one of those two words could be applied to what happened that cold Winter night. Due to the time of year the Van Der houts B & B wasn’t very busy. Only two couples were staying in the place that particular night and, since it’s a four story mansion, the couples were situated on different floors to allow them some privacy. According to the newspaper article, the couple on the second floor were Jerome and Kathie Kern. Only the first names of Terry and Lisa were given for the couple on the fourth floor—I would imagine this is because they were afraid of what others might think of them, after they told their story. For purposes of clarification I will refer to Terry and Lisa as the “Smiths”. This is what happened. Because of the distance between the Aeckney place and any neighboring community, the Van Der Houts would prepare dinner for their guests who didn’t wish to make the drive into town. Since it was particularly cold on that February night both the Kerns and the Smiths opted to dine in. After dinner—according to the Kerns--both couples played a game of Hearts in the living room and enjoyed a glass of brandy before retiring to their individual rooms. By ten o’clock both couples had gone to bed and were—according to them—sound asleep. When the Van Der Houts went to bed an hour later, all was quiet at the Inn. It was at precisely twelve fifteen a.m. that Lisa came awake. At first she wasn’t entirely sure why she had woken up at all. Lisa didn’t remember hearing anything specific, nor did she smell anything, as other couples had reported. She looked at the clock on the nightstand by the bed and then looked at the form of her husband sleeping underneath the blankets. By her own admission, everything seemed okay—and yet SOMETHING wasn’t right. Then it hit her: it was the clock. When Terrie and Lisa had originally been shown to their room, Mrs. Van Der Hout had pointed to an old antique clock sitting on the nightstand and informed them that it didn’t work. It was one of those beautiful old wood and glass pieces that had a miniature pendulum inside that had long ago stopped moving. Lisa had responded that she possessed an illuminated travel clock and that she always used and, therefore, didn’t need the other clock anyway. When Lisa had come suddenly awake and looked at the clock, she had assumed she was looking at the glowing dial of her own travel clock. As she lay in bed, coming more fully awake, she began to realize that she heard ticking—even though her travel alarm made no such sound. Turning to look again at the clock she realized that, what she had mistaken for the illuminated dial of her own clock, was actually light reflecting off the brass dial of the antique clock: and that was where the ticking was emanating from as well. At that same instant Lisa realized that the light reflecting off the dial was moonlight coming in from the window—and yet there was no moon that night. To be continued tomorrow…

I'm shell-shocked too Arnie, this slop is horrible. "Now, it might make a better story if..." '...I had first taken an OD of Narconol.' PS - Tell Shelley that she needs to work on her segues. PPS - Thought you were in Italy doing the nasty with your sugar daddy.

Finish the story! Call in sick to work! This is killing me!

Arnie- PLEASE finish your story. This is getting very mysterious. Please Arnie...Please!!

Now you're just being melodramatic, Arnie - shame on you! And, whatever happened to YOUR visit to the B&B as you originally stated?

People, I'm relaying the story as best I can from the notes that my wife took during her research on the place. Believe me, I am editing out 3/4s of the more mundane aspects of the history but I must include some of that if the story is to make sense. Sure, I am taking a little poetic license--but not as much as you might think. And, yes, I will get to our own experience in the mansion, soon. Please bear with me while I continue to sift through Anee's notes and edit them for content. Thanks for your patience. Arnie

C'mon, Arnie, finish the story. This is like waiting for the next episode of The Hardy Boys on the old Mickey Mouse Club. I never did see the ending to "The Mystery of Applegate Farm."

Shelley, while we're waiting, why don't you share some of your experiences? You said that haunted hotels are your hobby.

Elinor: I asked her to do just that, yesterday - no response.

supposedly Al Capone is still causing trouble at The Biltmore Hotel in Coral Gables, Florida. Sounds like these ghosts tend to pick nice renovated historic hotels. Good taste.

Hi everyone, Here is the next installment. Be sure you have read the last one (about ten postings up) or you may not follow this part. "This antique clock that supposedly hadn’t worked in years showed the time to be exactly 12:15am. Not only that but the small pendulum inside that had remained stationary for the previous two days of the Smith’s stay, was now swinging from side to side—emitting a small click each time it reached the outside arc of its movement. Lisa Smith lay in bed for approximately five minutes waiting for the minute hand of this mesmerizing little clock to move to sixteen: It never did and yet it continued to tick away. Finally, her attention returned to the window and the apparent moonlight coming through it. Lisa knew for a fact that there was no moon that night, so she decided to leave the comfort of her bed to look out the window and see just where this light was coming from. What she saw both surprised and confused her. When Lisa gazed out the window, a full moon stared back in at her. She knew that there was no moon that night and yet there it was, big as life and twice as bright. Feeling a bit disjointed and a little frightened, Lisa decided to return to bed and the comfort of her husband. She turned around to move the few steps back to bed and stopped dead in her tracks: There was no longer a form underneath the covers. At first Lisa Smith assumed her husband must have gone to the bathroom without saying anything. Then she remembered that the bathroom was actually down the hall and she realized there was virtually no way Terrie could have gotten up, opened the door, closed the door and walked down the hallway without her noticing, yet that must be what happened—how else to explain his absence? Then Lisa noticed something else, not only was Terrie not in bed, but the bed itself was made—complete with comforter and shams in place. Now Lisa was becoming frightened. She knew that even if Terrie had (somehow) managed to sneak by her to use the restroom, there was NO WAY he could have possibly made the bed without her noticing. And besides, why would he? As confused and scared as Lisa was becoming, she decided that there must be a logical explanation for what was (seemingly) occurring. She put on her nightgown and opened the door to the hallway to search for Terrie. When she turned the doorknob the door opened easily but with the loud creak she had remembered from when they were first shown to the room. “Okay,” Lisa thought, “we locked the door before going to bed so Terrie must have left the room, but then why didn’t I hear the creak as HE opened the door?” Lisa Smith left the room and headed for the bathroom. As she approached it she could plainly see that the door was open, the light off and that it was empty. She continued past the bathroom and proceeded to go down the four flights of stairs to the main part of the house, still in search of Terrie. When she arrived in the lobby/living room, Lisa noticed a man with his back to her standing behind the waist-high partition that served as the check-in area for guests. Recognizing immediately that it wasn’t Terrie or Mr. Kern, Lisa tentatively said, “Mr. Van Der Hout?” There was no response. Again, she said (more loudly this time) “excuse me, Mr. Van Der Hout?” Still, no response.

You are being plain mean Arnie!!!! How long until the next installment???

Don't you just love that when people are really scared they go exploring? I'd be under the bed with every light in the room turned on - the hell with Terrie!

Haha Boo, for sure. And if you're a teenager make sure you're not the ones making out. They're always killed off first!!

She must have been blonde(as they usually are in the "screamers"), and she probably fell and twisted her ankle while looking for Terrie. :P

still waiting......, c'mon Arnie, I have to leave the computer at some point!!!!!!

I have heard much over the years about the Aeckney place. Unfortunately, by the time I was old enough to have a chance at staying there, it closed forever. Hey Arnie, did you really get to stay there? If so, please continue with the story.

I heard that they turned Lizie Borden's house into a B&B> How about taking a whack at staying there

arnie, we are WAITING

Topping for the Arnie-meister.

Arnie (and others who seem to know about Syrus Aeckney) After reading Katerina's post that she could find nothing on the internet, I did a search as well. I also did a search on the book title, author and publishing company Natalie posted about - again -- Nothing. Checked Maine library re: haunted houses, etc. Nothing. So I'm curious, where in Maine did this take place? The coast is fairly broad. Oh, and was it the Jerome Kern, composer? We're all waiting for your story to continue.