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Walking into the circa 1840 house, there seemed to be something alluring about it, something I couldn’t immediately put my finger on. As we entered the front door, it felt as though we were intruding in someone’s private gathering. The place was decorated with old Victorian charm. Evergreens, berries, and dried fruits added the sense of Christmas from years gone by. The Burwick home must have been inviting to anyone who was fortunate to attend the parties that took place here long ago. Wandering around this magnificent home was like being taken back in time. The table was set, the furniture all in its place, the grandfather clock stood tall and proud as we passed it to walk up the staircase.
Making the journey step by step, something came over me. I felt a presence, that of a distraught woman. As I slowly walked up, four rooms became visible: a child’s room, a sewing room, another child’s room, and at last the one I seemed most drawn to, the adult’s bedroom. A baby’s crib stood to one side, and mourning clothes were laid upon the bed. Was the woman I sensed mourning for her baby? Was her spirit still looking for her child two centuries later?
The presence was strong, and details came clear. She was a woman of 20-28 years of age, too young to feel the loss of a child. The woman’s pain became overwhelming to me, and I felt the need to reach out to the grieving mother. To everyone else present, including my co-writer, there was nobody in the bedroom, but I knew different.
The ghostly entity lingered around the room, tied to the cradle that would forever lay empty. In years past, when the sound of children’s laughter came from the streets outside, she would wander over to the window to get a glimpse of them. It must have been painful to watch children happily playing when her own child had been tragically deprived of the experience. I can only imagine the torment that this woman must have endured at those moments.
My experience at Burwick House profoundly shook me. I found I had to learn more about this place and the ghost trapped within. Somehow, I thought uncovering the story would ease the pain of this mourning ghost, and perhaps some of my own as well ...
Read the rest of this article in the June 2005 issue of FATE
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