Post by Elly on Nov 4, 2005 18:26:59 GMT 10
Spirit replies with the ghosts of New Lanark
WILL SPRINGER
IT'S THAT time of year again: long nights and ghosts lurk in every shadow. Exactly why I have joined a ghost-hunting team to the supremely haunted village of New Lanark defeats me. It sounded like a good idea while sitting in front of my computer in the bright of day. But now, here in the dark, the anxiety levels are high. After all, tonight we are hoping to commune with the dead.
The team of ghost investigators is armed with an array of high-tech recording equipment to catch any sights and sounds. The evening is still young. The anticipation builds. The first of our "chats" with the other side begins.
"Is there anybody here in this house with us – any beings, spirits?" asks Paul Muir, a member of the team, speaking boldly so his voice can be heard across several rooms of an old mill house. "Would you like to make yourself be known by noise, a touch …"
Suddenly, we hear a dark thud. Something falls to the floor. Someone says: "What was that?" Another replies: "Sorry, that was me."
A drop of a battery, perhaps, and the living – me and nine others crammed into three rooms and a long corridor – are far more jittery than before.
Muir continues: "We're here with total respect for you; we mean you no harm. We have great interest in you. Could you please try and communicate with us, in whatever way possible."
There is a long pause to allow for a response. Silence.
This goes on for several minutes. Questions are posed. Time is given for a reply. Minutes turn to hours and I begin to wonder if anything will ever happen.
Scotland has no shortage of apparitions, superstitions and manifestations. It is a hotbed of sightings, sounds and the spooky. New Lanark is recognised as one of the most haunted. It was the vision of Robert Owen, a social pioneer and mill owner, who built this working village. Eighteenth-century Scotland was an age of cruel mill bosses. Owen, however, offered fair wages, affordable food, free health care and education for all villagers. He ruled out corporal punishment and child labour.
Although life here was substantially better than elsewhere in Scotland, messages taken from the spirits tell a story of hardship. Interpreting the messages is Mark Turner, who with his girlfriend Lisa Lundie created Ghost Finders, this small group of men and women deeply interested in the paranormal.
"I think there was a lot of suffering," Turner surmises of the 18th and 19th century village life. "It was a very, very hard life, because of the nature of the village. I guess I am putting myself in their shoes."
Many present-day guests to the village and New Lanark Mill Hotel have reported sightings, and employees have almost become immune to the regular "visits" from the long departed. "The amount of paranormal activity is quite a lot," adds Turner, a 31-year-old web designer from Cumbernauld. The reason for this might be even more sinister.
Ruth Urquhart, a well-established psychic medium from Glasgow and member of the Ghost Finders team, believes witchcraft took place before the mills were built. Urquhart investigated New Lanark about nine years ago, an experience she will never forget.
"There are certain places that make you uncomfortable. There really is no area that is uninhabited by the spirits of the past," she said. Her previous investigation involved two other people – a para-psychologist and a journalist. The reporter described feeling quite strange throughout the session. Even Urquhart felt very ill following the investigation.
After a visit to New Lanark, she says, "You never come back the same."
Early evening has passed to night. The wind begins to pick up, caressing the stone and timber building with a frequent howl. I'm feeling a bit odd – maybe disorientated - but I think it's the effects of fatigue more than anything.
Turner is sitting at a table in Millworker's House. Recorders are on. We are poised, listening intently for any unnatural sound. All I can hear is my heart beating loudly.
"Can we all get as quiet as possible please?" he asks calmly. We begin again.
"If there's anybody here, could you please state your name for us?" No response is heard in the room. After a gap to allow for replies, there are more questions: "Could you please repeat your name for us? Could you tell us the year that you passed over? Were you happy working here?"
Concentration levels are high. It saps our energy. Midnight approaches and we all need a break.
The team returns to base, a meeting room in the hotel. Turner downloads onto his laptop computer the audio recordings from our first excursion beyond the grave. We listen. The results are alarming.
The audio speaks for itself: "If there's anybody here, could you please state your name for us?"
"Yes, Arthur," comes the reply in a loud blast that requires several playbacks to make out what we think to be the name. The reply is immediate after the question, as are other replies – albeit less discernible to the first. How did we miss this? Is it possible for a recorder to pick up audio that humans cannot? And, who's Arthur?
The questions start to pile up in my mind. How did they do that, the sceptical journalist comes to ask himself of this group of investigators?
The answers are more difficult to form than the ghostly responses moments earlier. Turner and his colleagues explain there is certain recording equipment that picks up low-frequency sounds better than others. My simple digital recorder picks up nothing - questions, but no answers.
Are they having a laugh at my expense? Doubtful. The replies were captured on three recorders.
There was someone there. We chatted to the other side, or at least that is what I want to believe.
Thanks, Arthur, whoever you are.
heritage.scotsman.com/myths.cfm?id=2169922005
WILL SPRINGER
IT'S THAT time of year again: long nights and ghosts lurk in every shadow. Exactly why I have joined a ghost-hunting team to the supremely haunted village of New Lanark defeats me. It sounded like a good idea while sitting in front of my computer in the bright of day. But now, here in the dark, the anxiety levels are high. After all, tonight we are hoping to commune with the dead.
The team of ghost investigators is armed with an array of high-tech recording equipment to catch any sights and sounds. The evening is still young. The anticipation builds. The first of our "chats" with the other side begins.
"Is there anybody here in this house with us – any beings, spirits?" asks Paul Muir, a member of the team, speaking boldly so his voice can be heard across several rooms of an old mill house. "Would you like to make yourself be known by noise, a touch …"
Suddenly, we hear a dark thud. Something falls to the floor. Someone says: "What was that?" Another replies: "Sorry, that was me."
A drop of a battery, perhaps, and the living – me and nine others crammed into three rooms and a long corridor – are far more jittery than before.
Muir continues: "We're here with total respect for you; we mean you no harm. We have great interest in you. Could you please try and communicate with us, in whatever way possible."
There is a long pause to allow for a response. Silence.
This goes on for several minutes. Questions are posed. Time is given for a reply. Minutes turn to hours and I begin to wonder if anything will ever happen.
Scotland has no shortage of apparitions, superstitions and manifestations. It is a hotbed of sightings, sounds and the spooky. New Lanark is recognised as one of the most haunted. It was the vision of Robert Owen, a social pioneer and mill owner, who built this working village. Eighteenth-century Scotland was an age of cruel mill bosses. Owen, however, offered fair wages, affordable food, free health care and education for all villagers. He ruled out corporal punishment and child labour.
Although life here was substantially better than elsewhere in Scotland, messages taken from the spirits tell a story of hardship. Interpreting the messages is Mark Turner, who with his girlfriend Lisa Lundie created Ghost Finders, this small group of men and women deeply interested in the paranormal.
"I think there was a lot of suffering," Turner surmises of the 18th and 19th century village life. "It was a very, very hard life, because of the nature of the village. I guess I am putting myself in their shoes."
Many present-day guests to the village and New Lanark Mill Hotel have reported sightings, and employees have almost become immune to the regular "visits" from the long departed. "The amount of paranormal activity is quite a lot," adds Turner, a 31-year-old web designer from Cumbernauld. The reason for this might be even more sinister.
Ruth Urquhart, a well-established psychic medium from Glasgow and member of the Ghost Finders team, believes witchcraft took place before the mills were built. Urquhart investigated New Lanark about nine years ago, an experience she will never forget.
"There are certain places that make you uncomfortable. There really is no area that is uninhabited by the spirits of the past," she said. Her previous investigation involved two other people – a para-psychologist and a journalist. The reporter described feeling quite strange throughout the session. Even Urquhart felt very ill following the investigation.
After a visit to New Lanark, she says, "You never come back the same."
Early evening has passed to night. The wind begins to pick up, caressing the stone and timber building with a frequent howl. I'm feeling a bit odd – maybe disorientated - but I think it's the effects of fatigue more than anything.
Turner is sitting at a table in Millworker's House. Recorders are on. We are poised, listening intently for any unnatural sound. All I can hear is my heart beating loudly.
"Can we all get as quiet as possible please?" he asks calmly. We begin again.
"If there's anybody here, could you please state your name for us?" No response is heard in the room. After a gap to allow for replies, there are more questions: "Could you please repeat your name for us? Could you tell us the year that you passed over? Were you happy working here?"
Concentration levels are high. It saps our energy. Midnight approaches and we all need a break.
The team returns to base, a meeting room in the hotel. Turner downloads onto his laptop computer the audio recordings from our first excursion beyond the grave. We listen. The results are alarming.
The audio speaks for itself: "If there's anybody here, could you please state your name for us?"
"Yes, Arthur," comes the reply in a loud blast that requires several playbacks to make out what we think to be the name. The reply is immediate after the question, as are other replies – albeit less discernible to the first. How did we miss this? Is it possible for a recorder to pick up audio that humans cannot? And, who's Arthur?
The questions start to pile up in my mind. How did they do that, the sceptical journalist comes to ask himself of this group of investigators?
The answers are more difficult to form than the ghostly responses moments earlier. Turner and his colleagues explain there is certain recording equipment that picks up low-frequency sounds better than others. My simple digital recorder picks up nothing - questions, but no answers.
Are they having a laugh at my expense? Doubtful. The replies were captured on three recorders.
There was someone there. We chatted to the other side, or at least that is what I want to believe.
Thanks, Arthur, whoever you are.
heritage.scotsman.com/myths.cfm?id=2169922005
