by Charlotte Levins (Temple University)
GROWING UP, and to this day, I have always been fascinated with ghost stories. When my mom allowed me to choose the picture I would like to have hanging over my bed when I was eight years old, I chose an engraving of the town, Sleepy Hollow. For obvious reasons, I would force my Aunt to do her “goblin” voice and tell me stories about the banshee. However, I grew up and went to University and thought little more of ghosts.
Until yesterday.
Roisin is a girl from Armagh who I have had the pleasure of meeting. She joined our team and chose to write her story on the Green Lady, who haunts Vicar’s Lane. I will not get into the Lady’s story, for that is Roisin’s job. However, my job was to photograph the Green Lady. Now I like ghost stories, but I am completely freaked out when I have to stalk one alone.
Luckily George, Sarah, Kyle, and Cindy came with me to go ghost hunting. We set up the camera to catch enough light, and George suggested that Sarah move around with flapping arms while he flashed light on her face. I told Sarah to let down her hair and look “mad crazy.”
I wound up laughing uncontrollably, and I have a loud, loud laugh. It did not take long for the neighbor to peer out the door and question why we were there.
“There is no ghost; you are wasting your time,” she said. “I suggest you get your facts straight.” Meanwhile, a man moaned “Mo0o0o0o” and floated by underneath a white sheet and black wig.
Although the white-haired woman seemed annoyed at first that Americans had disrupted her peace, she did not go back inside. She remained out in the cold and chatted with us for over an hour and a half, until almost midnight. At one point, she even asked her recently hospitalized dog to come out and say hello, though he could not climb down the stairs.
I was listening to the woman speak, but I could not stop glancing over at the Green Lady’s window that was boarded up for almost 100 years. Cindy took a picture of the window and showed it to me later. She claimed that she could see a ghost, dressed in Victorian clothing, staring out the window at us. However, I just see squiggly lines from an ancient windowpane. Even so, I would never walk by that house alone at night.
Ghosts
