October is "Family History Month." Add Ghost Tales to Your Family Yarns

I am the family genealogist, and my passion for this hobby is never ending. October is designated as Family History Month in the United States. 

Our family collected stories of ghostly happenings and weird coincidences a few years ago and I created a family book on my computer.  If you encounter such stories, and you probably will if you ask or if it has happened to you, this is a very interesting way to celebrate Family History Month.

Here is an example of one of my stories:

Searsport Maine: Cold Rooms of Family Farm on Turnpike Hwy.

I was born in Bangor Maine but lived in Connecticut for most of my youth. Nana and Grandpa's farm was in Searsport, my favorite place to visit.

On winter visits my sister and I slept under a flurry of quilts in an icy room that allowed us to witness and amuse ourselves with each visible breath. Our Mom and Dad slept in the guestroom down the hall which overlooked the Penobscot Bay. Beyond their room is a small bedroom where Mom used slept as a child.

Her brother Gerry scoffed at her stories of cold chills and ghostly rattling of her bed, which caused her great aggravation and sleeplessness far too often. Being a very brave child, Gerry decided to swap rooms with Mom. He was so certain he could prove his sister was just making up stories to scare him.

That night was fraught with eeriness, at first conjured up in a lad's ever active mind; then it happened to him too. Cold! Rattling! And maybe something else?

Gerry tore the bedding apart. He even pulled some floorboards (imagine my grandmother's fury), but he could find no reason for the unruly rattles. He never again slept in Mom's room. And, never again did he rib my Mom about the cold and rattling.

As years passed and Mom grew up to marry Dad, her stepbrother Jimmy slept in this tiny room on his visits to the farm. Years apart, Mom and Jimmy independently experienced the presence of a spirit in this room.

One day Mom casually asked Jimmy if he sensed anything unusual when he was in her old room. He chuckled and shared with her that he did indeed. They now shared the same secret knowledge: No matter how hot a steamy summer's eve might be, or how chilly the winter night might become, this room would grow cold or colder as the sleeping person became aware of a ghostly presence who spoke no words, jiggled the bed, and caused the sound of a rhythmic heartbeat thumping in the chattering cold.

How I wrote my book on ghost stories:

As we gathered each story, I used my Word program to write them and to include photos whenever possible of the persons in the stories or the homes, etc.  When thoroughly edited and the final work approved by each family source to me, I printed the small book on 8 1/2 by 5 inch paper. I used 32 lb. HP paper because it feels more like a book and will easily run through my Kodak printer. For the back cover I used card stock. For the front, I used a clear heavy-duty plastic and then bound with spiral binding combs to neatly hold the book pages together. I have a paper cutter and a spiral binder machine. You can also take your book on a jump disk, etc. to a printer such as Staples or Office Depot and they will do this work for you. Another way to capture the stories is on DVD, giving each person their own personal disk of the book.

Capture your ghost stores to become a part of your family history now.

Sears Island, Maine, and my Mom, Marjorie Bennett

This two-mile long and one-mile wide island is close to the mainland of Searsport Maine. The Wabanaki American Indians called it Wassumkeag which means shining beach or bright sand beach. When the island was discovered by European explorers before 1775 they named it Brigadier's Island. Regardless of its moniker, this land has historically been an uninhabited or sparsely populated island.  

The island, today and in the days when my mom lived in Searsport, was separated from the mainland as a barrier island due to its tidal bar.  When the tide came off  Penobscot Bay, it was an island; when the tide rolled out, she could walk or stroll to the island but, of course, had to be alert to the tides and the daylight so as not to get marooned overnight. 

I don't believe there were any farmhouses there when my mother was, but were in generations before her time in Maine. Actually, in the first 1790 census six families lived or squatted here among the birch and maples of Maine. Now visitors can find stones marking the cellars of long gone homes.  In 1917 a gas-powered piece of farm equipment created a fire that destroyed the few Sears Island farm buildings. 

During prohibition, the island was a secluded way to the smuggle liquor off the waters of the Bay. Perhaps this even occurred when mom played on the island - in the daytime, thank goodness - when she was still under the age of 10.

Mom and her brothers used to love to go to Sears Island to camp, swim, gather shells, picnic, snowshoe and horseback ride.  Hiking might be an adventure to people today, but in mom's day hiking was a mode of transportation - her mode, a means to an end. I believe the island is about 2 miles from her home on Turnpike Road in Searsport.  Since she walked to neighboring towns often, such as Stockton Springs to roller skate, the trek to Sears Island was a fairly short half-hour walk for her. Today there is a causeway to and from Sears Island, but no further.  Once on the island, people walk, bike or ride horseback to see more. 

LtoR: Albert, Gerry and Marjorie Bennett

Some sounds mom would hear were the waves lapping along the shoreline, whispering and swirling winds and leaves, and the unique bantering of sea gulls...and silence, blessed silence. 

The island waters in her day were known for abundances in lobsters, clams, scallops and such. No wonder I like seafood (but not fish particularly). Although I have been very near to Sears Island, I did not walk in her footprints of long ago. My grandmother and my great grandmother also walked and played on this island. I should have.

Love you Mom!