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Would you like to hear some spooky stories? I bet you would. It's that time, isn't it? The Halloween season. I am Joshua P. Warren, and this is Joshua P. Warren Daily. Yep. It's kind of a special edition. I just love Halloween. And uh, well, for a number of reasons. I'm into all the spooky stuff, but also it's the month of my birthday. A lot of people I know were born in October, and even close to Halloween. I was born October the 25th, so it was always an especially festive time for me. So I want to kick it off by sharing with you some of my sort of favorite traditional Halloween stories that I like to go back and reread and think about this time of year. Get you in the mood a little bit. And you know what? The marketing team is telling me that they now expect to launch my new podcast on October the 22nd. So that means I still have some time to leave some good Halloween-oriented Joshua P. Warren Daily podcast for you before the kickoff of the Big New Podcast. So before I jump into some spooky stories, uh let me just say, speaking of podcasts, listen to this. I tell you, I have the greatest listeners in the world. I mentioned on one of my recent podcasts that I had done 500 of these Joshua P. Warren dailies and that I had gotten inquiries as to whether or not it was possible to just download all of them at once. And I did some research with this the uh service that hosts them, and they said, no, you can't do that. So I sort of put it out there to the audience. Well, if there's anybody out there who has the time or the know-how who wants to invest that energy in doing this, let me know. Well, guess what? There is a listener in Canada named Chris, and he took the challenge and he contacted me, and not only did he download all of the first 500 Joshua P. Warren daily shows, which goes back three years, over three years, but he also downloaded all of the old Speaking of Strange podcasts that we had uh that we've got hosted. I mean, there are there were many years where Speaking of Strange was airing before podcasting and all that was around. And uh somewhere in North Carolina, I have a storage unit with a cardboard box that's up to my waist full of audio cassette tapes, and that's probably the only record of some of those old shows. And I tried to find it once and I couldn't, but one day I will, and hopefully they're in good shape. But let me tell you what, years and years and years worth of these podcasts are available, and I'm gonna tell you right now how you can download all of that for free. Because Chris is going to keep this stuff on his server for at least a little while to give all of you who are interested a chance to go and download all that stuff. The thing is, it's almost 14 gigs. So, you know, you need to have a significant amount of storage space, and also, depending on your connection speed, it might take you hours to download everything. But if you want to do it, he put all of the uh first 500 Joshua P. Warren dailies in one zip file, and then he put all of the speaking of strange shows in a zip file, and so you just download each one of those zip files, you know, one or the other or both, depending on what you want to do, and that will keep you entertained for years. So, what I'm gonna do is post a link to these files on my Twitter page at Joshua P. Warren at Joshua P Warren. So you can go there, find them, and when you click them, you know, hopefully they'll work. If you are hearing this podcast too far into the future, maybe it will be too late. So the sooner you do that, the better. Also, let me just go ahead and give out the address to these files. For all of the Joshua P. Warren Daily's in one zip file, go to this address, rule theweb.com. That's r-l-e. Rule theweb.com forward slash joshua p warrendaly dot zip. Again, that's rule theweb.com forward forward slash joshuapwarren daily dot zip. And then for the speaking of strange, you go to rule theweb.com forward slash speakingofstrange podcast dot zip. That's rule theweb.com speakingofstrange podcast dot zip. You just click that link and download it like any other zip file. And um maybe if we get a big EMP and all that stuff is uh wiped out, well, somewhere out there, uh, people of the future will have the ability to hear some of this uh some of this stuff. So thank you so much, Chris. You know, the fact that he did that, I I'm sending him a very special little gift. It's in the mail right now. So a nice little surprise for him. I don't take it for granted when people do cool stuff like that. Um, the next thing I want to tell you about before we get into these stories is gosh, you know, the I the my last podcast was me telling you all about the psionic dematerializer, aka the Bad Buster, which was available for a limited period of time. I gave the notice yesterday, uh the 24-hour notice that it was about gone. And uh let me tell you, I I don't know if we might have one or two left as I speak, I'm not sure. Um, but the first batch was shipped out immediately to people who bought them. And I got this uh really I've I've gotten so many interesting emails, so many interesting, wonderful emails from people who were using the Badbuster and having tremendous success already. But I want to read one to you that I just got about an hour or two ago that I thought was especially interesting. Here in uh Las Vegas, by the way, it hasn't rained in like 160 days, and the allergies are really bad, so my voice is a little bit hoarse. But if you can hear that, I'm okay. I don't have a cold or anything, but sometimes, you know, the wind starts blowing and all the sand kicks up out here, and man, it'll get to you. But listen to uh I'll just tell you part of this message because there's some personal stuff in here. But I got this from Crystal in California, and she'd been having a string of um unfortunate events that were kind of like something out of a movie. She said it was almost comical, and so she was really happy to get this dematerializer. And I'll just read you a portion of what she wrote. She said the invisibility stuff is so freaking cool. She says, I took a few moments just to play with it. Awesome. So she says, I read the instructions, decided what words to put on the piece of paper, and after putting it all together, I put the folded piece of paper in the tube and capped it with the black tourmaline. The wildest thing happened. I could actually see these waves emanating from around the tube. I don't know what they were, but it lasted for at least 10 seconds. And then for the next few hours, I could see a field around the tube. So uh yeah, that's that's really amazing, isn't it? That some people who are at just the right frequency can literally see what's happening with these devices in the, well, we'll call it the etheric realm, in the astral plane. And so uh right now her luck has flipped. That's exactly what it's supposed to do, and suddenly everything is coming up roses, and it's only going to get better now that she's working with that tool. So thank you for that cool report, Crystal. I wish I could read everybody's reports, but I just wanted to point that one out because she was the only person who talked about being able to see the energy field. But there's one more that I want to share with you real quick, and this is about another product on my uh website in my Curiosity shop called the Money Magic Kit. And this comes from a woman named Lydia who lives in Washington State, and uh she said uh the first day she used the money magic kit, I found a dollar that's one dollar on the ground, and I was like, sweet. She said the second time someone left three dollars and quarters at the car walk at the car wash that I pulled into. So again, I was like, sweet. For the next few weeks, I wasn't really working, and I thought to myself two days ago, well, money can't come to me if I don't get out and work. I did the next day, but I was thinking, you know what, my rent is late, my phone bill and storage unit are overdued. I'm probably screwed here, but oddly, I don't feel worried or stressed. She said, I got a random redetermination of weekly benefits letter from unemployment late that same day. I get an increase from $214 to $543, and they instantly issued back pay, which comes out to $10,060. She says, WTF kind of voodoo. What kind of voodoo witch Doctor Magic are you selling, bro? She says, I am hooked. Thank you. It's more than enough to pay for everything I poured into it. She says, enough to start a new life, and I'm purchasing more items from your store, sending my love that comes from Lydia. I just love getting emails like that because my box is full of them. My inbox is full of them every single day, and uh it brings me a lot of pleasure to share those stories with you. So thank you for sending those uh emails, Crystal and Lydia. All right, on to some spooky stuff. Um every year when I start my process of getting into the Halloween mindset, my go-to, the first thing I do is pull out my old hardback copy of a book of poems. It's very thin. It's called Nightmares Poems to Trouble Your Sleep, written by Jack Prolitsky and illustrated by Arnold Lobel. This is one of my favorite books in the whole wide world, and I actually ended up corresponding with Jack Prolitzki at one point, and uh he was so nice he just out of the blue sent me a uh a free copy of one of his other books and signed it to me, and those are just treasures. This book was published in 1976, meaning it is what approximately 44 years old. And I would love just to sit down and read this whole book of poetry to you, but I doubt the publishers would like that. So let me just read a few of them for you. And uh one of the great things I know people enjoy hearing these stories and listening to audiobooks and podcasts, but some of these types of books are so atmospheric that it really helps to have the illustration there. So if you get if you get your hands on a copy of the book, uh you'll really enjoy having this great illustration. It reminds me of um, of course, the scary stories to tell in the dark series and uh great stories, but artist Stephen Gamel added a whole other element to to those stories. This is a poem called The Haunted House. On a hilltop, bleak and bare, looms the castle of despair. Only phantoms linger there within its dismal walls. Through the dark they're creeping, crawling, frenzied furies, battling, brawling, sprawling, calling, caterwalling through the dusky halls Filmy visions ever flocking Dart through chambers, crudely mocking, rudely rapping, tapping, knocking on the crumbling doors Tortured spirits whine and wail, they grope and grasp, they wildly fell, their hollow voices rasp and rail beneath the mouldering floors Shadows from the dim hereafter hang from every creaking rafter, laughing disembodied laughter in their ghostly glee. He shades of evanescent matter whisper their unearthly patter, rattle chains that chill and shatter on their spectral spree. Revenants on misty perches taunt the ghost that lunges, lurches as it desperately searches for its vanished head. Shapeless rays devoid of feeling, hover blindly by the ceiling, ranting, chanting, shrieking, squealing promises of dread. In the corners eyes are gleaming, everywhere are nightmares streaming, diabolic horrors screaming in the sombrous air. So shun this place where spectres soar, it's you and you they're waiting for To haunt your souls forevermore in their castle of despair Pretty darn good, huh? The Haunted House from the book Nightmares Poems to Trouble Your Sleep by Jack Burlitzki. How about another one? This one's a little shorter. Oh man. Gosh. I have to ask the publisher sometime if I can just read this whole book. This one is called The Boogeyman. In the desolate depths of a perilous place, the boogeyman lurks with a snarl on his face. Never dare, never dare to approach his dark lair, for he's waiting. Just waiting to get you He skulks in the shadows relentless and wild in his search for a tender, delectable child with his steely sharp claws and his slavering jaws, oh he's waiting Just waiting to get you Many have entered his dreary domain, but not even one has been heard from again. They no doubt made a feast for the butchering beast, and he's waiting just waiting to get you in that sulfurous, sunless, and sinister place, he'll crumple your bones in his boogie embrace. Never, never go near if you hold your life dear. For oh what he'll do when he gets you. That is the boogeyman from Nightmares Poems to Trouble Your Sleep by Jack Prolitzki. One more. I'm gonna read one more. This conjures up so many images, especially if you like some of the Walt Disney, the old Walt Disney animations that were released around Halloween. This is called the Dance of the Thirteen Skeletons In a snow enshrouded graveyard, gripped by winter's bitter chill, not a single soul is stirring, all is silent, all is still till a distant bell tolls midnight and the spirits work at their will. For emerging from their coffins, buried deep beneath the snow, thirteen bony apparitions now commence their spectral show and they gather in the moonlight undulating as they go And they'll dance in their bones and their bare bare bones with the click and the clack and the chitter and the chack of the clatter and the chatter of their bare bare bones They shake their flimsy shoulders and they flex their fleshless knees and they nod their skulls in greeting in the penetrating breeze as they form an eerie circle near the gnarled and twisted trees. They link their spindly fingers as they promenade around, casting otherworldly shadows on the silver mantled ground and their footfalls in the snow drift make a soft cesarus sound and they dance and their bones and their bare bare bones with the click and the clack and the chitter and the chack and the clatter and the chatter of their bare bones The thirteen grinning skeletons continue on their way as to strains of soundless music they begin to swing and sway, and they circle ever faster in their ghastly rondolet faster, faster, ever faster and yet faster now they race, winding, whirling, ever swirling in the frenzy of their pace, and they shimmer in the moonlight as they spin themselves through space And they dance in their bones and their bare bare bones with the click and the clack and the chitter and the chack and the clatter and the chatter of their bare bare bones Then as quickly as it started their nocturnal dance is done for the bell that is their signal loudly tolls the hour of one and they bow to one another and their bony unison Then they vanish to their coffins by their ghostly thoroughfare and the emptiness of silence once more fills the frosted air and the snows that mask their footprints show no sign that they were there But they danced in their bones in their bear bear bones with the click and the clack and the chitter and the chack and the clatter and the chatter of their bear bear bones The Dance of the Thirteen Skeletons by Jack Perlitsky. I'm telling you, if you love this kind of stuff, you gotta get this book. Some of the other poems The Will of the Wisp, The Vampire, The Dragon of Death, The Troll, The Witch, The Ogre, The Werewolf, The Wizard, The Ghoul. Oh man. Gotta get it. Gotta get it. If you can find a copy. You know, it's weird. It's it's Books used to be so you know, so plentiful, so ubiquitous that people would, you know, prop their doors open with a stack of books. But books are finally becoming harder and harder to find. If you're looking for a particular book, because now so much is switched to ebooks that a lot of publishers don't even spend the money to print books anymore. And if they do, it's print on demand. So that means that it's not like there's a surplus supply out there waiting for you to grab onto. You it's a digital product until you order it and then you have to wait for it to be printed. So anyway, my point is it's getting harder to find some of the good old books that you enjoy. It's kind of weird. I never really envisioned that happening, but it has. If you have a movie that's not on a streaming service, then you have to see if you can find the DVD. And sometimes it's hard to even find the DVD. We kind of took things like that for granted having a physical copy of something. Oh well. People ask me all the time why I got into paranormal investigation. And I have, you know, my kind of standard answer. And I talk about well, I was born in Asheville, North Carolina. And my family, you know, is that's the heart of the Blue Ridge Mountains, the oldest mountains in uh in North America. And how that, you know, my family's been there on both sides for hundreds of years, and I grew up with all these amazing stories and folklore, and um how that Asheville aligns with all these other paranormal hotspots, like the Brown Mountain Lights. You know, they were right down the road as I was growing up, and then the Devil's Tramping Ground, and then the coast of North Carolina, where so many ships have sunk, they call it the graveyard of the Atlantic, and that's where the first colony of English folks tried to settle. They all disappeared. We don't know what happened to them. We now call it the Lost Colony. You keep drawing that line out, you hit the island of Bermuda, the top point of the so-called Bermuda Triangle. You know, I talk about being exposed to all that. I talk about how that in my own family, you know, before I was born, way back in the 1930s, my uh great uncle, Claude Calloway, um, well, he was photographed. He was, you know, rugged old mountain man, but he uh somebody took a picture of him. And uh when the picture developed, it was actually my grandmother who took the picture, but anyway, uh she took a picture of him. When the picture came out, he didn't have a head in the photo, and then a month later, practically in a blink of an eye, he vanished, you know, in mid-conversation with somebody, never to be seen again, like he was abducted or spirited or raptured away. I mean, like there are all these things that that sort of combined to create my interest. And the more I look back at my life, the more I realize that it almost seemed like somebody was, you know, some divine plan was in place to just keep exposing me to these weird, spooky, and often occult things. And one example of this is that I actually went to and graduated from a high school that was built on top of a cemetery. And people say that about a lot of different properties that are haunted, and uh it's it's you know, you can kind of roll your eyes at that, but no, in this case, it's absolutely true. And uh, in fact, I wrote a whole chapter of my book, Haunted Asheville, about that. I'm gonna read it to you here in a minute. But uh, you know, I started writing Haunted Asheville when I was pretty much still in high school. I was about 18, you know, I graduated when I was 18. And uh it was published when I was around you know 19 or 20. And it was already at that point that it was maybe like my third or fourth book I started publishing when I was really young. And when Haunted Asheville came out, it was the very first book of Asheville Ghost Stories ever published. And uh it became a regional bestseller to this day. It's the most stolen library book in the entire uh county system, and uh, of course, that gave birth to the Haunted Asheville Ghost Tours, which I've been running now for gosh, like 25 years or something like that. And uh which are the most popular walking ghost tours in the state of North Carolina. I mean, it it was a big, big thing for me to um to release that book at such a young age. It's made a huge impact on my life. And it was really intriguing to think that as I was writing this book, I was, you know, pretty much, like I say, still at this haunted high school. And my mom and dad and many of my relatives all graduated from Clyde A. Irwin High School. My sister graduated from Clyde A. Irwin High School. One thing to keep in mind uh is that my mom and dad, when they graduated from Clyde A. Irwin High School, it was a different building. They eventually constructed a new building, which is more or less next door, you know, across the football field. And so even though my sister and I went to the same high school, it wasn't the same building that my mom and dad went to. The building that they went to was not on the haunted property. When they built this new place, uh they had to move the cemetery or do the best they could to put the new place on top of it. So I'm gonna give you all the facts about that. And uh I was the first person to put all this stuff together in a chapter in a book and I mean spell out the details here of the whole story, like the facts of how all this came together. But before I do that, I'm gonna tell you a little bit more about this book I wrote when I was a teenager called Haunted Asheville. Um I'm not sure if this is the original text. This thing has been I sold it to a publisher and they changed some things, but here is what the back of the book says right now, the current version published by the Over Mountain Press in Tennessee. The Pink Lady still wanders the massive halls of the Grove Park Inn. Strange noises pierce the night in the halls of Clyde A. Irwin High School, and the legendary Helen roams Boketcher Mountain looking for a daughter who met a tragic end. Joshua P. Warren's haunted Asheville explores these tales, tales as flavored and ancient as the mountains themselves. While searching for fading morsels of truth and examining the feasts of folklore, from secret chambers and age castles to cryptic etchings on forgotten tombstones, the lore and intrigue of the mysterious side of life fills this mountain town. Explore historical facts, hear the words of eyewitnesses, and examine the stunning photographs. Never before have such stories been collected so completely and authentically. Open this book and prepare yourself for the unexpected. This is chilling, this is fascinating, this is true. This is Haunted Asheville. Here is the introduction to this book, Haunted Asheville. Things die slowly in the mountains. Perhaps it's the rocks or the streams. Perhaps it's the thick forests or the misty clouds that lie low on the horizon. Perhaps it's the chill in the air or the way the pale moon gleams down on the rolling hillsides. Whether basking in the warmth of a July sun or trudging through the banks of a thick January snow, things die slowly in the mountains. There is something about the spirit that tends to linger here. There is something about the dark looming mountains that envelops the soul and entices it to stay. To walk among them is to fill the scope of the ages, for no mountain is exactly what it seems to be. Each one is a collage, an aggregation of all that has passed through it. Each Native American who smoked a pipe by a crackling campfire, each peaceful deer that drank from a pond beneath the starry sky, and each pioneer who carved his way through the rugged terrain has left a mark. Those who have lived in the mountains each left traces of themselves across the timeless ranges, not to mention those who died there. What are the mountains without the mountain people? It is they and their small towns who have cherished the protection of nature's greatest barriers. They have defined the meaning of genuine culture among the elements, and learned to harness the power of the land. What more delicate and painstakingly crafted monuments can one find than within the heart of a mountain town? Such towns are built on true sweat, blood and tears, and even though they may generally have eluded the spotlight through time, they have progressed while maintaining their integrity and authenticity. Such towns are found scattered here and there all about the Appalachians, and although each one shares a legacy and kinship with the other, who can find a finer example than the city of Asheville? For a small mountain town, Asheville has seen its share of action, from its earliest days as a rough pioneer town, to its boom days and beyond. Asheville has, in some respects, broken the mold of the simple mountain town. Although it remains a cool oasis of scenic grandeur and relaxation, much has happened here. There is a special tradition within the mountains of Asheville that has sunken deep within the roots of its people. It was the only place in the world which drew George Vanderbilt to build his illustrious home. It was the only place in the world suitable for EW Grove to realize his dream of constructing the world's finest resort. It was the only place in the world that Thomas Wolfe immortalized again and again in his prolific writings, yes, truly, Asheville has made a name for itself. Yet with all the bustling that has taken place in the forefront of Asheville's development, the mountains remain, standing silently in the background. They soak up the hearts of the people to their dark majesty, and when the people die they surely leave a piece of themselves behind. But then again, some die more slowly than others. It is from these spirits, these souls that linger on a bit longer than the rest that come the stories you know the ones. The ones about the lost spirits wandering restlessly. They are most always searching for something. Maybe they search for peace, a lost lover, or to exact vengeance upon those who wronged them in life. Chances are, however, they will never find it. With all their immortal abilities and ancient years of ceaseless searching, they still cannot find what they are looking for. Why? Because then they would go away, and we won't let them. They are the classic howls on a windy night or an icy hand laid upon your back in an empty room. They are the faint whisper you thought may have called your name, but then again no, certainly it must be just your imagination. They are the shadows that dance around a campfire at night, and though we may sometimes dread them, deep inside we cannot live without them. To us they represent more than just a cold chill or a shudder in the dark. Deep inside the recesses of our souls we are fascinated by them because they symbolize the unknown. Our knowledge can sometimes imprison us. Because of gravity we know we cannot spread our arms and fly. Because of light we cannot make ourselves invisible. Because of mass we cannot walk through walls, but they can. And even though they seem to be imprisoned by some forces beyond our knowledge, to us they seem so free. They represent a vast blackness of unseen possibilities, and the unseen possibilities are the breeding ground of hope. Therefore, on some deep subconscious level, perhaps the ghost symbolizes hope itself. Perhaps it embodies the excitement of discovery and the challenging fascination of the mystery. There are no wrong answers when the answers are not known. Since the ghost is the personality of the enigma, it seems to be a limitless slate upon which we may project our hopes, fears, and ideas, restricted only by the boundaries of our imaginations. That is why we won't let them go away. With this, it seems obvious why the notion of the ghost has remained popular since the dawn of humankind, but still, as much as we enjoy the stories, they're still just stories. Right? There are some, however, who say the story is just the beginning. As a matter of fact, many of those people live in Asheville. They are people usually as sane as you and I, who in many cases didn't really believe in ghosts until one night or day as it may be, everything changed. While strolling in the Grove Park Inn or walking under Helen's bridge, quote, something happened. Not often, mind you, as a matter of fact, very rarely, but then again it only takes one time to change your mind, and perhaps your britches. Unfortunately, most of us will never get to see these ghosts. We will only hear the stories that continue to be passed down through the generations. But where if we trace back through time do the stories begin? We all know who supposedly died, but how can we find out who really died? When will someone take the time to research and question and find out the facts behind the stories? Well guess what? Someone finally did. Records around these parts are terribly scant, as anyone who has researched in Asheville knows, but there are some goodies out there just waiting to be saved before they decay in some forgotten file drawer. There are mainly bits and pieces scattered here and there. It's like a big puzzle or a recently unearthed mountain skeleton. I've tried to reassemble as many authentic bones as I could find, but like an archaeologist had to fill in the gaps with plaster parts. In this case, an substantial legend. There are usually a number of possibilities that arise when it comes to finding the source of a legend. Sometimes weird things happen, like the same name popping up in two different legends. Around Asheville, two names that seem to recur quite frequently in ghost stories are Helen and Alice. In this book you'll read about real people in Asheville who both died tragically by both those names. The relationships between the real people and the stories are debatable, however. In some cases it seems as though there may have originally been no authentic connection. However, when a person tragically dies in the area, that person's name seems to stick in the public memory. Perhaps if one were looking for the name of an anonymous ghost, one such name would seem to be a likely candidate. All in all, some interesting coincidences do seem to arise. On a more superstitious note, you'll also notice the number thirteen shows up in the darnedest of places. You will also find, as with most ghost stories, that majority of the unrestful spirits are women. One may only speculate as to the reason for this. Well, all that's fine and good, says the rational voice from our intellectual nature, but where is the evidence? Stories come a dime a dozen, and eyewitnesses could be unreliable. So what's left over for the armchair critic? Well that is where I step in with the marvelous gizmos of technology and delve into the science of ghost hunting. To put it in a nutshell, aside from all the flesh, people are energy. When the flesh is gone, the energy, which can be neither created nor destroyed, is left over. This energy seems to be the ghost. Since the mind, considered very different from the brain, is also energy, it retains the consciousness of the person. In other words, the energy is the real you. You are not literally rotting away in the coffin, and this would explain why whenever a ghost is encountered, there is a huge fluctuation of electromagnetic energy. Keeping this in mind, we try to scientifically study a ghost from the perspective of studying energy fields. Now I don't mean to get too technical on you, but since they are included throughout the book, I'll give a quick overview of some of the equipment used to study ghosts. Regular 35 millimeter cameras are used more than anything. In many cases, one may not actually see a ghost but takes a photograph of a haunted place, and later, when it is developed, a strange image appears. It seems that these high concentrations of electromagnetic fields may directly affect the emulsion of the film. Though they may be out of our visible range, the camera can somehow pick them up. By the use of special films and filters, cameras can also be made to photograph into the infrared and ultraviolet range. Such photography can be likened to taking X-rays. Though energy may not be viewed at the time of the photograph, it appears after developing. This simply broadens the possibility of capturing a significant image. Inaudible noises can be imprinted directly on audio tape according to the same principle. An electromagnetic field meter is also more than handy to have on the scene. These are obviously used to detect such energy masses. Many times, when an energy fluctuation is present, a photograph taken will yield odd results. Night vision devices can also be efficiently employed. Aside from their use in viewing areas in darkness, they allow the viewer to see into the infrared range. Wimschurst and Vandergraft generators are electrostatic devices which disperse ions into the air. It is believed that the materialization of a ghost is accompanied by a massive concentration of ions correlating with the electromagnetic energy. Using devices which generate ion concentrations may enhance supernatural activity. A Tesla coil is one of the most fascinating electrodynamic devices available. It emits high frequency electrical oscillations, and when properly employed, it can alter the ionic and electromagnetic environment in a number of ways. These are just a few of the devices employed in paranormal, meaning beyond normal research. You must realize that when studying the unknown, a number of techniques must be utilized. We don't necessarily know if what we're studying should fall under physics, biology, psychology, etc. Therefore, we must combine instruments and procedures from each science until we pinpoint exactly what we're looking for. Such instrumentation was not employed while researching for every chapter in this book. You will see it mentioned here and there, though. I won't bog you down with the technical parts of my ghost research. However, if you are scientifically interested in paranormal research, and I'm telling you this as an update, you should definitely read my book, How to Hunt Ghosts. Anyway, all in all, I've tried to include a little something for everyone in this book. There are legends never before published, historical facts, eyewitness accounts, and scientific data. And on top of that, the book contains a generous portion of photographs. Aside from photographs obtained during research, special photographs of most locations featured were made by Mark Ellis Bennett. Special ghostly effects were done by Tim Peterson. Both men are nationally renowned for their work. I should mention that the photographer of each picture is noted on such and such page at the beginning of this book. I know this is a long introduction, but I'm about to wrap it up, okay? You ready? This book just includes some of the most fascinating stuff. You'll find The Pink Lady of the Grove Park Inn is the feature of this book, however. This is because I was hired by the Grove Park Inn to research the phenomenon independently. Therefore, that research project was the biggest on which I had ever embarked. I have no doubt that you'll find the combination of lore, sightings, and data compelling at very least. I am, however, sorry to say there are a number of other intriguing places in Asheville, privately owned, where the present owners do not want their legends publicized. It is a shame to see such good stories go to waste. Maybe after this book they'll come around. But enough from me The suspense has been created, the drum roll has been completed, and now it's time for you to explore the darker side of Asheville. You are about to embark on a journey to places in Asheville you always wanted to go at night, but were usually too afraid. Never fear, I've done it for you. Full moons and graveyards seem to be my cup of tea, and as you read, if a cold shudder suddenly runs up your spine, pay it no attention. I've probably just walked across your grave. There are haunting tales waiting to be told in the pages ahead. Read them carefully. Take your time. Things die slowly in the mountains. Especially stories. So that was my introduction to Haunted Asheville. Again, written when I was 18, 19, 20, somewhere in that area. Now I'm gonna tell you a story that's in the book. I'm going to read to you the chapter about the haunted high school that I went to. This is called The Cemetery at Irwin High School. And I wrote this like a reporter on a mission to make sure all the facts were straight. And this will help you understand a little bit about maybe how I turned out or why I turned out the way I did. It's stuff like this happening in my life, I guess. Here we go. The cemetery at Irwin High School. No one really knew how long the cemetery across the road from the old county home on Lee's Creek Road had been there. It rested atop a desolate hill beside the old Irwin High School, presently Irwin Middle School. Many believed the ancient bone yard began as a family cemetery in the late seventeen hundreds, but the only marked tombstone in the field bore the inscription in memory of Charlotte K, wife of JN Snelson, born september thirtieth, eighteen fifty six, died may third, eighteen eighty three. County officials of the time had no idea how many bodies were buried in the lonely field. Little did they know that their original estimate of two hundred would skyrocket to over one thousand. Only seventy three accounts were ever recorded. And the explanation is a simple one. Few really cared. The cemetery was one of those for those in society that most people felt were best forgotten. It was a pauper's cemetery owned by the county, which was the final resting place for criminals, vagabonds, beggars, forgotten elders, and all poor and underprivileged residents of Bunkham. Billy Pritchard, an Asheville Citizen Times writer, said it best in a nineteen seventy three article. He wrote They were lonely, unwanted, and forgotten souls alive, and no one shed any tears over their pauper's graves when they left this world as all men do with nothing. But they had nothing in life either, and when their souls were taken away, it must have been for them a better place. In most cases there were no flowers, no songs of praise, no funeral procession, no last words of prayer over the cheap wooden coffin, and no tombstone to mark their passing. They were no more thought of under the ground than they had been above it. Hidden away in rest homes, mental hospitals, and jails where they eventually died, these souls were wards of the state and county welfare department. If anyone loved them at all, it was these institutions which kept them alive and afforded their burials at death. That's the end of that excerpt by Billy Pritchard. The bodies of these melancholy souls were hurriedly and carelessly buried in most cases. There was usually no embalming or funeral service, and many corpses were simply wrapped in a sheet and shallowly buried to save a bit of time as well as the taxpayers' money. There was no marking of bodies in most cases, and many times one assigned the duty of burying a body would dig up another in the process. Because of this, many were buried coffin on coffin, and in other instances there were cases of mass graves. The lonely place was referred to by most locals simply as Potters Field, but many others called it the County Home Graveyard. The county home controlled the usage of the graveyard, and although it's uncertain how long bodies had been buried there, it began using the field as a pauper cemetery officially around 1905. For an overwhelming amount of time, the neglected souls had rested in the damp, dismal earth undisturbed. A span of time which ended in 1973. It was in that year the Buncombe County School Board decided to build a new Irwin High School on the property the cemetery then occupied. The decision was immediately met by opposition from several county officials and many private citizens. R. Curtis Radcliffe, then chairman of the Buncombe County Board of Commissioners, was particularly concerned with the proposed $64,000 of taxpayers' money that would be invested into the project. Democrat member Roy Trantham said he would never vote public funds for moving dead people. Quote, I think they ought to be left alone, he said. One concerned citizen, Mrs. Lula Edens of Asheville, insisted that a marker be placed on the grounds to commemorate the dead. Quote, I'll never die happy until I know there's something up there. I was horrified when I learned that Pottersfield was unmarked. I have suggested one large marble marker with an old rugged cross on the top of it and an inscription that reads Those names known only to God, peace be unto you. Mrs. Edens never received her wish, however, and the school board decided to begin excavation of the grounds. Philip Ellen Contractors Incorporated of Southern Pines, North Carolina, was hired to take care of the job. The team of seven men using only shovels, mattocks, and a bulldozer, which they were only allowed to use to cover up the graves, began working for the fee of $79 per grave. Their only method of locating the bodies was by plunging a T handled steel rod into the dirt, feeling around for soft spots. For added assistance, some Irwin High School students were hired to help locate the graves for a few dollars a body. After working in the field for a while, the estimate of 200 bodies quickly jumped to 400, then 800, and finally to over 1,000. The grounds were a confusing mass of jumbled and nameless remains. Most of the unknown corpses were severely decomposed and dumped into small wooden boxes for transport. Many anonymous observers claimed that there was very little care taken in the excavation, and the bodies were laid in rows out in the open, despite potential health hazards to the teachers and students who were occasionally allowed to visit the site. One teacher, who requested anonymity, vividly recalled a disturbing sight. Upon visiting the scene for observation, she remembered the opening of a particular coffin. Inside was the skeleton of an apparently young woman. There were remnants of an ancient worn gown on the pale bones, and long red hair flowed from the skull. Cradled in her arms was the tiny skeleton of a baby. One might assume the two had died together in childbirth. R Curtis Radcliffe visibly shivered while recalling a gruesome sight he witnessed while visiting the excavation. Quote They punched a hole in a coffin and reached down in there and drug out a skull and threw it over on the ground. Some false teeth fell out. The hair fell off. Some bones were so carelessly strewn around that there were several incidents where students played practical jokes with the human remains. One morning residents of the area awoke to find skulls mounted on various fence posts around the community. Philip Ellen paid his workers three dollars an hour or twelve dollars a grave for every one over four that was found, excavated, and approved, having been found with remains inside. The particular operation was so gruesome that it was the last job for some crew members who dug up the cemetery. One member of the crew, a man named Steve Belcher, had followed Ellen all over the country digging up graves. A job he said didn't bother him until he started working on Potter's Field. In an interview, Belcher recollected We were digging on the other side of the field and struck one that was still intact. I got sick, I mean it really bothered me. The bodies located were placed into pine boxes of three different sizes. The most often used was a box thirty six inches long, eight inches wide, and a foot deep. More substantial remains were placed in boxes five feet and six feet long. Ellen once remarked, quote, actually the boxes we're putting them in are better than the ones they were buried in originally, end quote. In a few weeks, the firm had completed the excavation. Supposedly having removed nearly a thousand bodies, they were reburied on a quiet hill behind what is presently West Buncom Elementary School. However, according to an Asheville Citizen Times article published on October 30th, 1973, Fred H. Martin, superintendent at the time, stated that an estimated two hundred and fifty to three hundred of the bodies speculated to be there would not be moved. The new Irwin High School was built directly beside the small hill which held the main concentration of bodies. The mound is now a benevolent barrier between the school and the football stadium. Many say, however, that unmarked graves of the antiquated cemetery are strewn all about the property, and there are even invalidated tales that in time bones have actually worked their way up through the soil occasionally. Now whether such claims are true or not, no one really knows for sure. They, like the cemetery, remain a great source of mystery and speculation. It is not uncommon to hear tales of strange phenomena that surround the school. Janitors reluctantly pass along rumors about eerie noises and footsteps that can be heard within the vacant halls late at night, long after the hustle and bustle of the school day. Some have even suggested with a trifle of humor that the dishonored spirits cursed the neighboring stadium and football team. From 1991 to 1995, Irwin's varsity team had thirty-three consecutive losses, earning a losing state record and approaching a national one. Obviously, no one will say for sure whether or not the grounds of Clyde A. Erwin High School are still haunted. Death is a sensitive subject, and those who have stories to tell are reluctant to publicize them. Perhaps many at the school find comfort in trying to forget the massive ocean of decaying corpses that once surrounded the grounds. Such a morbid notion is sometimes best when repressed to the back of the mind. It seems, though, that if ever a place had reason to be haunted, these would be prime conditions. In the macabre if the macabre orgy of pitiful souls never found true peace and justice while in the world of the living, perhaps they dwell restlessly in the afterworld. What the ground beneath Irwin High School now holds is perhaps known by those who have already departed us in time. Whether or not students tread each day over the remains of bodies is a mystery. But regardless of what Irwin's soil may hide today, the essence of what was once there shall live forever. Bob Terrell sums it up best with a statement about the grounds before the excavation from a Citizen Times article. He wrote It's a beautiful hilltop, fringed by a handful of proud old oaks and backed by a long row of mimosa trees. Leafless now, the gnarled branches of the mimosas reach skyward like so many souls lost in a wilderness. But it is no wilderness. The view from the hilltop over a rickety board fence that separates the tract from fields below is one of rolling pasture land and thick forests, of farm buildings and homes, and life itself. Why then such an eerie feeling? Why does one feel so desolate standing there with the north wind laying icy hands upon his shoulders? It is not the wind that sends a chill up one's spine. It is the simple knowledge that this is a cemetery. And that is the chapter I wrote in Haunted Asheville about the high school I went to and graduated from. And I of course I over the years, this book was officially published in nineteen ninety-six. Over the years I have heard so many reports of paranormal activity from that uh from that school. Stories in here include Again, the Pink Lady of the Grove Park Inn, The Ghost of 13 WLOS TV, Murder in the Battery Park Hotel, The Reed House, Helen's Bridge and Zalandia. There's a story called The Buildings Have Eyes, which is about the Jackson building. But you know what? I want to read one more story for uh for you in this podcast. I know this is a long podcast, but what the heck. This is perhaps the weirdest. Yeah, I'm gonna I'm just gonna say this is the weirdest story in this book. And um, it's one of the weirdest stories that I have come across in all of my years of investigation. And what's kind of ironic about this is it's not even a story that I actually wrote. This is a story that I found when I was digging through the archives of the old newspapers at Pack Memorial Library. And uh there was an uh there was a newspaper back in the early 1900s called the Asheville Gazette News. And so I wrote a short introduction here to explain what this is, and then I'm gonna just read for you this article. It's actually um two articles that were published. One what the second one was just a follow-up on the first one. Uh I want to read this bizarre, bizarre story to you. And uh I'm gonna read it as it was written in 1908. So it may sound a little funny, and I may have a little trouble uh pronouncing things properly. You know how it goes when you're reading old things the way people used to write. So um, yeah, this is this is one like I'm not even sure what category this goes into. You've heard me say that before. When you get to uh when you get into paranormal investigation, you have a tendency to want to put stuff in a certain file. You're like, this goes in the ghost file or the UFO file or the cryptid file or the psychic file or the whatever. This I've never figured out what file this goes into. So maybe you will listen to this story and you will figure out what file this belongs in. Okay, are you ready? Here we go. And if you did not know this, Asheville, North Carolina is located in Buncombe County. So this chapter is called A Night of Terror in the Buncom County Jail. Here's my introduction to this chapter. Until now, you've read about many different reactions that folks have to supernatural beings. Some have been impressed, some have been frightened, and others have even been comforted. Now, to sum up the spectrum of emotions, I offer you some grown men who were absolutely terrified. But even better than that, they were the toughest, meanest, most fearless men in Asheville. Plus, there was even a cage between them and the ghoul or whatever it was. That's right. It was the men locked up in the Bunkham County jail. The year was nineteen oh eight, and somehow it seems that as time has passed, the event has been all but forgotten. Although the jailhouse of that time period is now a vacant patch of land, what once happened there is unprecedented. Even though the men were scared senseless by what they experienced, it achieved what was for them the ultimate good. They saw the light that horrific night in the jailhouse and accepted the Lord because of it. A tangible good came from what some may consider an intangible means. They had evidently seen a preview of hellfire and whatever visited them that April night. What follows are actual reprints of two articles originally published in the Asheville Gazette News in nineteen oh eight. They appear in form and capitalization just as they were printed. Enjoy. Okay, so this first article is from Saturday, april eighteenth, nineteen oh eight. There are three different little teasers at the top. It says spooks in jail, prisoners scared. A ghostly midnight visitor. Reverend W. G. Whitaker endeavored to interview it. Twas a fearsome sight, so everyone testifies. And then it gets into the meat of the article. Mr Mitchell's borders threatened to leave him in most unceremonious manner. Sheriff Hunter this morning received a communication from those unfortunate who occupy cells in the county jail, declaring that the window barred house just below the hill was haunted, and pleading that work on the new jail be hastened that the prisoners might escape from the terrors that seized them nightly. This communication was the result of last night's experiences at the county jail when the prisoners declared that a quote spook paid them a visit, that they saw quote him plainly, that he swung to and fro along the iron grating of the white cage from about midnight until near two o'clock this morning, and that the prisoners were well nigh scared to death. In fact, it is declared by all the men in jail that two of the prisoners, Bob Boone and W. I. Miller, fainted outright, while others, with the exception of Reverend W. G. Whitaker, sought consolation, if not protection, beneath the folds of their blankets. It was a wild eyed bunch of prisoners that jailer Mitchell found this morning about feed time when he entered the jail and throwing the levers allowed the prisoners the freedom of the cage corridors. Scarcely were the men in the corridors before they began relating to the jailer the night's experiences. That something unusual had taken place was evident as Mr Mitchell listened to the tales told by the prisoners, corroborated one by the other. A sort of creepy feeling came over the strong and non superstitious jailer and deputy sheriff. Boone and Miller were still badly frightened and weak. Other prisoners were in little better condition. The story related to the jailer and afterwards to others had to do with the visitation of an alleged spook. It is declared by all the prisoners in the white cage that about midnight they heard a noise, and subsequently there was a presence at the iron grating. An electric light is located in the jail near the cage, and the prisoners declare that they could plainly see the presence. That is the length of time they cast their eyes that way, since they were very frank about it, they just got one glimpse and then in fright sought the folds of their blankets covering head and ears. All the prisoners performed this stunt with the exception of Reverend W. G. Whitaker, he who is the alleged representative of the Whitaker Estate in England and who is in jail in default of twenty five hundred dollar bond, charged with using the mails for fraudulent purposes in connection with the aforesaid Whitaker estate. So did you get that? This guy's irreverend, but he's in jail for related to fraud. The Reverend Mr Whitaker was the hero of the occasion. He did not hide his face, neither did he seek to flee from the presence. He went forth and endeavoured to speak with the spook, but the prisoners declare that there was a presence at the bars and Reverend Mr Whitaker corroborates them. He, with all the other prisoners in the cage, declare the presence came about midnight and hung to the iron grating. They say it swung backward and forward and grinned. It was when this grinning process commenced that the prisoners, with the exception of Mr Whitaker, took to cover. Whitaker declares that he sought to talk to the spook, the presence, whatever it was. He further says that it moved its lips but could not speak. That it poked its hand through the iron grating, and that every time it swung to the cage, it would grin in a manner calculated to make the hair stand. This thing continued for a time, and the negroes in the cage adjoining were awakened and became alarmed. All the negro prisoners, with the exception of Ben Johnson, did as the white prisoners and went to cover. Ben, like the Reverend Mr Whitaker, was a hero. He had the temerity to peep out and declares what he saw made his blood run cold. He declares that the thing was just as the white men describe it, that it was a spook with great big eyes, and that it showed its teeth. The one peep was sufficient for Ben. He also went to cover, and today declared that never again would he be a hero and take his head from the cover when spooks are abroad in the land. It is said by the prisoners that the presence left about two o'clock as mysteriously as it came. They also declare that noises are heard in the jail at all hours of the night and that the place is haunted. One night recently the prisoners declare they heard a mother and her babe crying upstairs, and furthermore, that almost every night they hear the trap fall, meaning by this the trap of the gallows on which a negro was recently hanged. That there is something the matter at the jail is certain. Just what frightened the prisoners last night is not clear. They have appealed to Sheriff Hunter, however, urging that the new jail be completed as speedily as possible. Several of the prisoners this morning declared to jailer Mitchell that while they didn't intend to run him over when he came to feed, they just wanted to say they expected to run past him if ever the opportunity presented. That was April eighteenth, nineteen oh eight. Now we have a follow-up article, which is two days later, April 20th, of 1908. And at the top it says, Reform follows visit of spook. Reverend Mr. Whitaker and the other prisoners hold hearty religious services in the jail. Prisoners give up cards. Profanity is also taboo. Miller, alleged robber, and Barnes, alleged horse thief, prefer conversion from sinful life. Good has come of the incident at the county jail when the prisoners confined confined there were so badly frightened by what they claim was the visitation of a presence, a spook at the cage grating, which visitor they said remained at the cage and swung backward and forward for nearly two hours. It was about midnight Friday that the white prisoners say a man presented himself at the cage and grinned, and rolled his eyes, and licked out his tongue. Two of the prisoners were so badly frightened that they fainted, while all the others, with the exception of Reverend W. G. Whitaker, charged with using the mails for fraudulent purposes, went to their blankets, covering heads and ears and remaining thus until welcome daylight came. Reverend Mr. Whitaker was not scared. He was so impressed, however, with the visitation that he sought to interview it. He declares that the presence could not speak, but that it did move its lips and tried to speak. Saturday, the one topic of conversation among the prisoners in the jail, both black and white, had to do with the incidents of the night before, and when dark came on, many of the prisoners, still unnerved, became almost panic stricken. They appealed to Reverend Mr Whitaker to hold religious services. The preacher readily consented, and for two hours the prisoners sang hymns and prayed and listened to a gospel talk by Mr Whitaker. The preacher prayed earnestly for the salvation of men, and especially for his fellow prisoners. He reprimanded his cellmates for their alleged wrongdoings and pleaded with them to forsake their worldly and sinful ways and to seek and follow the lowly Nazarene. The words of the preacher went home. A number of the prisoners were visibly affected, especially Will Miller, the man charged with robbing the post office in Arden, and who on the night of the robbery was run over by a train and had one of his feet crushed off, and James Barnes, one of the three men charged with stealing horses from Reims Creek Township recently. Both of these men, at the conclusion of the services, went to Reverend Mr. Whitaker, shook hands with him, and declared their intention of accepting Christ and leading a better life. Will Miller told Jailer Mitchell Sunday morning that his life was completely changed, and Mr. Mitchell says it is a fact that Miller is now an entirely different man and prisoner, that he is now bright and happy, instead of sullen and of a rebellious nature. Reverend Mr Whitaker, in speaking of the jail revival today, says that he has no regrets at being in jail, that he feels he has accomplished some good while being there. Mr Mitchell said today that all the prisoners had evidently determined to live better lives. They handed Mr Mitchell their playing cards yesterday with the request that he burn up the little pieces of pasteboard. The prisoners have further made a rule that no more profanity or vulgar talk shall be indulged in. Who says the Lord doesn't work in mysterious ways? Well, so there you go. That's some of the content from Haunted Asheville published back in 1996. Which uh, like I said, I wrote it around 20, 25, 26 years ago. Hard to believe. Hard to believe it's been that long ago. And that's why when people come to Asheville these days, they take the haunted Asheville Ghost Tour. And there have been all kinds of ripoffs that come and go. And trust me, they they're it's really, really bad. Some of these other tours that come up as ripoffs, uh it's just terrible. And um what they do, I mean they give people a bad experience, and then sometimes people get confused and they think that they took took the tour that I created, and no, they didn't. So if you're gonna be in in Asheville, make sure you go to the right tour, hauntedashville.com, hauntedashville.com. This is our busiest season. Uh also if you go to hauntedashville.com, maybe you'll never make it to Asheville in your whole life, but if you have an Android phone or something that's compatible, uh if you scroll down to the bottom of hauntedashville.com, you'll find an app there that I put together, it which is like me leading you on the tour where I tell the stories as I walk around town with some sound effects and all that stuff is you know, that's available to anybody at hauntedashville.com. Uh, the publisher of the book, which is the Over Mountain Press, has um they have they've just had some problems with their website. You used to be able to order through the website. I mean, I'm you could probably get some of the old copies off of Amazon as well, but uh if you're interested in ordering a copy of the Haunted Asheville book, just call them. That's the easiest thing to do. Uh the phone number, they're in Tennessee. Their phone number is 423-926-2691. That's 423-926-2691. And uh if you go to hauntedashville.com and click the the menu item that says links, it'll also give you that phone number, 423-926-2691. Well, I hope you enjoyed those stories. And, you know, I'm kind of again, this is stuff that I've never read on on the podcast or any radio show, so I figured may as well share it with you, easing you in to the spooky mindset, uh, because on the next podcast, I plan to share some more creepy stories with you that are more Halloween-oriented. You know, saving some of that stuff as we get a little bit closer to the actual Halloween date there. Uh and as you know, I have um I've got a brand new book coming out. I haven't released the name of that book, but next week, I think, if all goes well, I'll be leaving a podcast and finally revealing what my new book is. It's a spooky one, also. It's got stories about ghosts and aliens, weird creatures. And so there's a lot going on this month, as you probably know. Uh, and when it just while I'm talking about books, if you have not read my book, Use the Force, a Jedi's Guide to the Law of Attraction, if you go to joshuapwarren.com, that's joshua pwarren.com, you'll see a picture of it there on the homepage. You can click that link and you can download that book instantly, or you can also listen to it uh as an audiobook. It's like seven and a half hours. I read the whole book to you through Audible. So you've got those options as well for Use the Force, a Jedi's Guide to the Law of Attraction. Well, my voice is about to uh peter out, as I'm sure you can imagine. So hopefully you have enjoyed this uh, like I say, easing into some of the darker material as we get close to Halloween. I have so much to share with you over the next um, well, we'll say 10 days or something like that, leading up to hopefully the launch of my new podcast on schedule October 22nd. That's what they're telling me right now. So, nonetheless, make sure you stay subscribed to this podcast. I will be using this podcast from time to time for special reports and audio of various kinds, things of that nature. So when you're at joshua pwarren.com, click the link to the Curiosity Shop, please. Check out all of the interesting, amazing items there you won't find anywhere else. Sign up for my free e-newsletter at joshuapee.com. Takes you two seconds, and very soon I'm going to be sending you an interesting treat if you are a subscriber, something for free. And click the link to this podcast called Joshua P. Warren Daily. It's always, well, we'll call this short. I mean, this is a longer one, but it's usually pretty short. It's free, it's commercial free, it's independent, it's uncensored, it's all those things. You can subscribe through various means, or just go to Twitter and follow me at Joshua P. Warren at Joshua P. Warren, and I usually tweet when a new one is available. So I hope you've enjoyed some of these poems and tales today. I have good stuff on the way, I promise you. So thank you for listening. Thank you for your interest and support. Thank you for staying curious, and I will talk to you again soon.