Ghost Hunting Diary Volume VI

Ghost Hunting Diary

Volume VI

T. M. Simmons

Copyright © 2017 T. M. Simmons

Cover Design: Copyright © 2017 Angela Rogers,

Misadvmom @ yahoo.com

Silent Prey Copyright © 2013 by T. M. Simmons;

All rights reserved. With the exception of quotes used in reviews, no part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, or used in whole or in part by any means existing now or in the future, without permission from the author. Please respect the author's hard work. Piracy of copyright works is a crime.

A lot of the characters in this diary are real persons, who have granted permission to use their names. However, a few have asked for anonymity, which has been honored.

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Excerpt from

Demon at the Door, It Begins

Knock, knock.

Who's there?

You don't want to know.

You especially don't want to know if it's

the entity that knocked on the Simmons' door.

Table of Contents

Dedication

Dear Reader

Cajun Crossovers

Old Calvert Nursing Home

Tara's Home

Cottonwood Cemetery

Crossing Over

Violent Death Victims

Demon at the Door

It Begins

Demon at the Door

It Endures

Refusing Various

Requests for Help

Newsletter Signup

Excerpt from

Silent Prey

T. M. Simmons Bio

And Contact Info

Dedication

To Susie, DoDad and George

May we continue to do good work

Chapter 1: Dear Reader

If you've been following me or reading my books, or both, you know I've been somewhat absent the past many months. There have been very few blogs, and it's been a while since I released a new book. Silent Prey, Northwood Prey Book 2, came out in October 2015.

Some people who study such things believe our lives go in seven-year cycles: seven good years, then seven years of struggle. I haven't stopped to count my cycles, so I don't know whether or not 2016 was one of those bad years, but if so, many of my close friends were in the same cycle. They gritted their teeth and tried to endure and bide their time until 2017 came in. 2016 was indeed a rough year for countless people.

I'm not an author who talks much about my private life. However, it got to the point where I felt I should reveal at least part of what was going on. Some of the friends I have on Facebook are considered just that: friends. I felt I owed them an explanation as to why my writing career had hit such an abrupt wall.

What I didn't go into was what you will find as the two-part article in this volume of diaries. Demon at the Door, It Begins and Demon at the Door, It Endures will explain in more depth what my life entailed that year. What, to a lesser point, is still going on and needing close attention.

Another article, Refusing Requests for Help is probably going to garner one or two of those review comments that accuse me of having an arrogant, preachy ego. That is so not me, although even I admit I can get that way when someone hits one of my supernatural hot buttons. Over and over I tell people it's dangerous to mess around in the paranormal without learning proper precautions and how to protect yourself. Over and over, I see people being rude, as well as taunting and provoking when they are in the presence of ghosts or other entities. People who are just inviting trouble. Not only do they put themselves in danger, they are also teaching unsafe habits to naïve and unwary greenhorns. No, I'm not going off on one of my rants. That's all I'll say on that subject for now.

The other stories are investigations I have been involved in, a couple with Aunt Belle. We haven't been on a new trip together since she lost her husband, Terry, late last year. We do have plans, though, so keep watch on my Facebook page for news.

In the meantime, please keep on being polite when dealing with the paranormal when you can, and getting your ass out of there if you have any hint at all that an entity you stumble upon never lived a human life.

Boo!

T. M.

Chapter 2: Cajun Crossovers

August 2014

Anyone interested in ghosts has surely heard of the Myrtles Plantation in St. Francisville, Louisiana. Perhaps you have even spent a night or two there. Although I'm not too impressed with the way the plantation is now, I do have really fond memories of the several times I stayed there in my early ghost hunting career.

High on my list of favorite Myrtle connections is my friend, Dianna Miller. Aunt Belle and I met Dianna when she worked at the Myrtles in 1993. That was the very first trip Aunt Belle and I took together chasing ghosts, the beginning of my ghost hunting career. Yes, we called it that back then. I'm not exactly sure when paranormal investigator gained popularity, but I still think of myself as a ghost hunter. I love hunting those sometimes elusive paranormal entities, and even more, capturing a rare supernatural photo.

Aunt Belle, Me, Dianna

In Front of My House

Dianna is a down-to-earth person, who loves to do things for others, and someone I count myself blessed to know. The three of us hit it off immediately. This was back when, for some silly reason, the Myrtles' owners had a strict rule against their employees discussing the ghosts haunting the plantation. Of course, since then, various new owners have used the paranormal activity to draw in paying guests. However, Dianna would sneak off with us and tell us the spooky tales, as well as the true history behind the plantation residents over the years.

The Myrtles was constructed in 1796, so it has had many owners. Lore also says it was built upon Tunica Indian burial grounds, so perhaps that accounts for some of the hauntings, although there are dozens, even hundreds, of places supposedly built on Native American burial grounds. Anyway, the initial Myrtles trip is in my Ghost Hunting Diary Volume I, in the story "Down the Ghost Trail."

Sadly, when I went to the plantation during this last visit to Dianna and St. Francisville, there was a truly commercial atmosphere to the house and grounds. I can't help but think the ghosts were unappreciative of that.

I've also heard various stories circulating around the internet, claiming different versions of the hauntings. They're completely altered from the ones Aunt Belle and I were told during our first visit. In fact, they're totally at odds with what we had happen to us during our various stays. Neither Dianna nor I believe those revised ghost tales. You know how you feel when you find out someone is lying about you, or even stretching the truth. Since ghosts once lived, I would tend to believe they don't appreciate falsehoods about their lives, either.

There have been several TV shows filmed at the Myrtles, of course. In the last one I saw, a paranormal team was urging the owners to allow them to bring in a voodoo practitioner and set up a séance. Fortunately, and luckily for both that team and the Myrtles' ghosts, their request was denied. I won't digress into the disrespect practiced by some of the supposed investigators on TV in order to maintain ratings. I'm just glad there are a few professional and considerate teams — yes, like our Supernatural Researchers of Texas (SRT) team — that treat the ghosts and spirits they encounter with courtesy and thoughtfulness.

I truly believe many people go into the paranormal as a means to satisfy some rude and offensive part of their own egos and personalities, as well as their pocketbooks. Unfortunately, the danger they face is something they will recognize only when it's too late. These people irritate me to no end, and I'll admit to feeling a touch of satisfaction whenever I hear about one of them getting their come-uppance.

Without further research, and returning to the Myrtles to chat with the ghosts, I can't determine how they are reacting to the commercialization of their former lives. I do know what I experienced on just my walk-through of the grounds this past trip. There was a flat and unhappy feeling about the place. I couldn't wait to leave.

But back to Dianna's story. She has been a close friend ever since that first meeting, and that's one of the joys I have from the initial trip. Another one is my very first ghost photo: a picture of Cloe, one of the ghosts at the Myrtles. I promise I won't repeat all of the information in Down the Ghost Trail (Ghost Hunting Diary Volume One); however, since I didn't add photos in that diary. I want to reiterate the story behind these following pictures.

The Myrtles

We were in what was then called the Blue Room when Dianna walked over to the mirror above the fireplace.

Would you like me to call up Cloe and the little girls? she asked Aunt Belle and me.

What do you mean by call up? I asked.

Watch, she said.

Dianna started tapping on the mirror and saying in a soft, respectful voice, Would you come on out, please? Someone's here who would like to see you.

A mist began forming. Within a few seconds, you could make out faces in the mist. I clearly saw the two little girls on the left. The one on the right did look like a … well, a face. However, I couldn't see it clearly enough to distinguish if it was a man or woman. I snapped a photo with my 35 mm. camera, which is what I was using in 1993.

What happened after we got home is clear in my mind to this day. Aunt Belle and I both took our film to the Walmart One-Hour desk to get it developed. When we picked the photos up, I leafed through mine. Then I gasped and dropped one, which immediately drew Aunt Belle's attention.

I showed her the photo that had startled me and asked, Is that Cloe?

It's Cloe, she agreed. And it was. It was a black lady and she had a green scarf wrapped around her neck.

Cloe in Mirror

However, the