Question: Can you tell us another ghost story?
Answer: Sure, it isn’t my purpose to fill this blog with ghost stories but there is another one that had a profound effect on me, and still does.
As some of you know, I was not always a Psychic Medium. After serving in the military for four years I went to college and studied journalism. For nearly twenty-five years I was a newspaper reporter/editor/photographer. The point of all this is that I spent most of my life, to that point, in a world of practicality and skepticism. As a reporter, if you couldn’t prove it by three sources then is was supposition. All of that was before Maria!
Let me explain, At that time I was dating a lady who didn’t stay long in my life but something that happened on a road trip with her did stay a while and, actually, still does. I wanted to visit my brother who lived in Virginia and asked if she wanted to accompany me. She said sure, if we could visit Harper’s Ferry West Virginia while on the trip. Being a history buff (Harper’s Ferry was the site of John Brown’s raid prior to the civil war) So I told her that would be great with me and a lot of fun. But history was not why SHE wanted to visit that particular place. She was into metaphysical matters (something I knew little about outside a few Halloween stories during my stint as a reporter) and According to her, Harper’s Ferry was one of the most haunted spots in the country. With that, we visited my brother, DC, the Smithsonian and then stopped in Harper’s Ferry on the way back.
Now, please understand that, as a true reporter, I was taught to neither believe nor disbelieve in anything until I had solid proof one way or another. So, as we toured the town, we came upon a house that had been refurbished and maintained much as it had been during the civil war. It had a brass plaque by the front door that labled it as, “The Wager House” as a nod to the family that built it. My traveling companion explained how she could close her eyes and see the spirits of people who had once lived in the place. She did so, and explained seeing a workman in the place going about his duties. She added that he had died in the place while at his work. Then she threw me a curve-ball: “Okay,” she said, “Now you close your eyes and tell me what you see!” Trapped! So, being an aspiring writer as all reporters are, I made something up to please her.
“I see a young girl. She is thin, dressed in civil war era clothing. She has blond hair and she died in the April of 1862 of a fever.” I went on to tell her when the girl was born and other details of her life. “What was her name?” My companion asked. So, like the other details, I made up her name. “Maria!” I told her. Well, at least I THOUGHT I had made it up. Hang onto your hats, this is where it got freaky for me.
After we left the house, we wandered around the town and ended up at the local church built, like the rest of the town, on a steep hillside. As we were standing next to a stone wall that bordered the churchyard and divided it from a steep drop off, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a woman in a white dress plunge from the top of the church and down the cliff we stood by. Being a reporter, I had to look of course, expecting to see the woman’s shattered remains on the rocks below but, there was nothing! We had a clear field of view and could see the area below with complete clarity. There was no body, no blood, nothing! I admit that I was shaken by the incident so we cornered a one of the roving tour guides and explained what I had seen. Unexpectedly, she laughed! She then explained that I had been fortunate enough to see the “Lady in White” who had taken her own life after her bridegroom was a no-show. My companion was thrilled by the incident. I, markedly less so! but while the falling bride was startling, and supposedly seeing my first ghost was shocking, that was most certainly NOT the end of it.
After leaving the church, we wandered up above it, up the steep hill to the old Graveyard. I have always been fascinated by graveyards and the history the contained but this particular graveyard contained something more! After struggling up the steep hill, I was exhausted so we took advantage of one of the stone benches beside the pathway that encircled the cemetery. Once I caught my breath, I looked up, scanning the old grave stones. There, not fifteen feet from where we sat, was a headstone and I will NEVER forget what was written on it. It was the grave of Maria Wager born and died in the same years I had “made up” a few minutes earlier. Needless to say, I was even more startled than I was with the fallen women of a short time earlier! My companion was beside herself with excitement. Later, we again found a tour guide (different from the first) because my friend wanted more information. We were directed to the minister at the church. He, in turn, directed us to the church records and those of the Wager family. You probably guessed the rest of it, the records told of the young girl named Maria Wager who was blonde haired and blue eyed at birth and died of a wave of fever that passed through the town. In short, everything I had “made up” was real and accurate.
My friend could talk about nothing else on the trip home. Me, I was too stunned to say much of anything. Now, here is an interesting addendum. Years later when I did become a Psychic Medium, I was joined and guided by my little friend Maria Wager. She stayed with me and guided me for fifteen or twenty years before she gradually faded from my life. I still think of her from time to time, however and think about revisiting Harper’s Ferry but I am not sure that hill is still within my ability to reach. Was this how I became a Psychic Medium? Nope. That is another story entirely and probably the next one I write about here.
