five

The First Ward
Schoolhouse

Most intelligent spirits were once people just like you or me. Just like some people are friendly, some introverted, some highly active, spirits are the same way. Many times they maintain the personalities they had in life. Unfortunately that means just as some people were mean and evil in life … there are spirits who continue to wreak havoc after life.

The History

The great northern woods has many more places I want to explore and investigate. The more I find, the more I’ve learned about the paranormal. However, I had a chance to go a little south of the Upper Peninsula to explore another alleged haunting; a much darker haunting. I knew it was an opportunity I couldn’t miss out on.

I heard through networks that there was going to be a fundraiser in Wisconsin Rapids, Wisconsin, to save the First Ward Schoolhouse and make necessary repairs. Many of the big names in the paranormal field were scheduled to make an appearance; The Booth Brothers, filmmakers who feature the paranormal in amazing places (such as the Waverly Hills Sanatorium) with movies and documentaries; Ben Hansen, former FBI agent and lead investigator of the hit show Fact or Faked on Syfy; Keith Age, the Syfy and Booth Brothers documentary personality; and many more. I read there would also be a chance to do an investigation of the schoolhouse, which is reportedly haunted by a few spirits.

Wisconsin Rapids is a small town in north-central Wisconsin, not far from Stevens Point. It wasn’t a long trip, so I jumped at the chance to visit the schoolhouse, especially since it was for such a worthy cause. I made my reservations and started researching the schoolhouse. A helpful friend of the owners, Jenny Gurney, provided me with the history as told to her by the schoolhouse’s owners Justin Libigs, Heather Bram, and Judy Carl. According to Jenny, the three did a lot of research on the First Ward by talking to those who lived in the area, doing research at the library, looking through the internet, and talking to the city and the previous owners.

According to Mr. Libigs, in the 1800s Wisconsin Rapids was a budding town. Public schools were becoming overcrowded and thus the board of education decided to open a new school in the first ward district. They found the perfect place for the new school and bought land for $600 from a gentleman named Peter Dessaint. After plans were drawn up, plumbing was put in, construction was done, and essentials such as the bell, seats, and desks were purchased. The total cost of the school came to $10,154. Mr. Libigs noted that one of the more interesting pieces of trivia about the school was that all of its bricks were made on site rather than delivered from a separate location. Also, the doors, gables and classrooms were painted in watercolor.

The school was heated by a giant coal furnace that rested in the basement, and it also adopted the latest in technological advances such as electricity, adjustable seats, and top-of-the-line chalkboards. As of today, First Ward Schoolhouse is the oldest surviving school building still standing in Wisconsin Rapids. The school was made for kindergarten through sixth grade, with the addition of a high school–level grammar class. Physical education was the responsibility of the teachers and taught in the classrooms. The main exception was the janitor, who taught boys basketball in the coal room.

Mr. Libigs mentioned that during a storm in 1910, lightning hit the bell tower, which burned off of the building. They were never able to repair the bell tower, and with the rising costs of maintaining the school (including the $8,000 school tax) the schoolhouse was forced to close its doors.

Justin Libigs is shown here standing beside the bell tower that once sat on top of the school. Photo by Andrea Mesich.

In 1921, schools were once again becoming overcrowded. Catholic nuns in the area decided to save the school and reopen its doors to kindergarten through third grade. The nuns lived in the attic of the school and taught the classes. This kept the cost of running the school down while relieving the overcrowding problem in the lower grades. Shortly after taking the school over in 1921, the roof caught fire due to embers from the coal furnace going up through the chimney and landing hot on the school’s roof. The janitor saw the fire on his way home from lunch. No one was injured as all the children were able to get out in time, and because the fire was spotted quickly, the damage was easily repaired.

Before World War II, the building was used as a school for the deaf and was host to the city’s first special education classes. Then in 1954, the schoolhouse went through various changes. A kitchen/cafeteria (which also served as a gym) was added, the bathrooms in the basement were moved upstairs, and the coal furnace was upgraded to gas. The last class took place in 1977, and after two years of other use, the building was unused from 1979 until Mr. Libigs and his family heard about the building in 2010, and eventually became owners.

Once the school became the property of Mr. Libigs family and a family friend, unexplainable paranormal activity started happening very quickly. While in the building,
Mr. Libigs and his family were greeted by a male voice saying “Hello.” They looked around in wonder, but there was no one else there with them. After that, activity became fairly regular. They heard the sound of desks being moved around the former classrooms; however, there were no school desks left in the building. Many times they heard phantom voices of children and adults. They saw orbs of light and shadow figures with the naked eye, and heard footsteps coming from places where no one was walking around. It was later that Mr. Libigs found out they were not the first to claim paranormal activity in the schoolhouse. It was the nuns who first noted unexplainable phenomenon in the 1920s.

Looking into the potential hauntings, there are a few claims that need researching. The first is that there is a little girl seen in a few places. One is the attic where a little girl can be heard crying. A little girl has also been seen in the former classroom on the second floor. Then there are various sounds of children and the sound of desks that no longer exist in the building moving. Neighbors have said they have seen an old man in the third-floor window; there is also an angry older gentleman (possibly the same as seen on the third floor) who spends a lot of time in the basement, specifically the coal room. It also seems the little girl is not the only child spirit.

When talking to those involved with the First Ward, I found that the only known deaths at the school were a little boy named Oscar, who allegedly died in the building from a cause that remains unknown, and the little girl mentioned earlier, who (it has been said) was killed in a tragic accident in front of the school sometime in the 1930s. With only two documented deaths in or near the schoolhouse, why were the other spirits there? How did they return to the school after death? Is it possible that perhaps whatever spirit had an attachment to the school was buried in a nearby cemetery and returned? Looking around, I found two cemeteries within one mile of the schoolhouse: Forest Hill Cemetery and Calvary Cemetery. Both cemeteries have graves from the late 1800s to the early 1900s. Could some of those graves contain the remains of students or teachers of the First Ward Schoolhouse who walked that mile back to the school?

While I was at the First Ward, there were people gossiping about dark things that happened at the school. Since I have found nothing to substantiate the claims I won’t mention what those alleged dark things were, but if those things did occur, could the perpetrator be bound to the site for the crimes committed, unable to move on?

A while back, I had the chance to speak to a Catholic priest who was very open to the belief in the paranormal; he gave me another theory as to why spirits who may not have specifically died in or near a place they now haunt, may linger there. When asked his thoughts, he stated that like many, he didn’t have the answers; however, one of his beliefs stands in the Catholic theory of a place called purgatory.

In the Catholic faith, purgatory is a place of temporal punishment for those who died in God’s grace to purify themselves of sins they may not have had a chance to repent for before their passing. Purgatory derives from a Latin word meaning “to purify.” It is a place a spirit goes to fully repent or pay to the satisfaction of their transgressions. Where this place is, no one knows.

Could it be possible that the spirit is allowed to linger in a place that has meaning to them, whether good or bad, during this time? Perhaps what we feel as ghosts haunting an area, are actually spirits in purgatory. If you notice in many investigations, when asked if spirits need help moving on, many times they say “Yes.” Could this be because they are unsure how to end their purgatory? Purgatory could also be for those who do not understand they are dead, or cannot let go of their worldliness and move on. So while they are not unworthy of God’s love and grace, they cannot move on until they have accepted and purified themselves.

On the flip side, it is a strong belief of the priest’s that demons do exist. Many times they attach themselves to places where dark things happened. Sometimes dark forces allow the spirit of someone who did evil things in life to remain where those evils were done so that they could continue to try to lead God’s children astray, and/or wreak havoc on lives. Of course, this is only one of many theories he has about the paranormal.

Could the priest’s theory be right? Could good spirits be in purgatory? Perhaps they need to cleanse themselves of venial sins, stuck in the place where those sins occurred, or they may not know they are deceased or are unable to allow themselves to let go of this world? Could dark forces be attracted to places where dark things occurred, or could the spirit that created the dark events be forced to return to where those evils happened?

There was a lot to consider for reasons a spirit would linger in a place where they did not die. The priest said it could be a place they were attached to in life—good or bad—whether it was a sort of purgatory or a place to continue to do the evils they had started while alive. Another theory came from a seminar I attended.

I had the honor to ask Jason Hawes and Grant Wilson (from Ghost Hunters on Syfy) a question when they spoke in Milwaukee, Wisconsin, and they gave me some more food for thought. Most intelligent spirits were humans once. We humans travel, we move from place to place freely. If spirits were once human, who is to say they don’t continue these same habits of traveling and moving about from place to place?

Another theory is that if they have an attachment to an item, they will follow that item where it goes. Could a spirit in the building have been attached to an item in life they took with them from the school that made its way back and they followed it? If they had an attachment to the property and are buried nearby, it isn’t far-fetched to believe the spirit would travel the short distance from one of the cemeteries nearby back to the school. Jason and Grant believe there is no reason a spirit can’t roam the way they roamed in life.

So even though Oscar and the little girl are the only deaths related to the school, there are many reasons and ways spirits would occupy the property.

Everyone who heard about the upcoming fundraiser started going online to share their stories about investigations at the schoolhouse. I spoke to nineteen-year-old Jenny Gurney, who shared her experiences at the First Ward with me.

“I have been interested in the paranormal for about five years, ever since I began watching Ghost Hunters. I officially joined the field two years ago by attending Parasota 2010, that Brandy Green hosted. Ever since, I have been busy within the paranormal field, attending several conventions and meeting people within the field. I’m so grateful for meeting everyone I have met in the paranormal community. I have investigated two of the biggest haunts in the United States; Waverly Hills and Bobby Mackey’s, both with Justin Libigs and Judy Carl. But I have also investigated the Palmer House Hotel in Minnesota, Farrar School in Iowa, Morrison Lodge in Kentucky, and many other amazing haunted locations.

This past year I started my own paranormal team, Proximity Paranormal, out of Minnesota with a great group of friends. I have also started my own paranormal radio show, Paranormal Hotspot (on Ztalkradio.com) on Wednesdays at ten p.m. Eastern time. I’m looking forward to see where the paranormal field will take me in the future.

I met the owner of the schoolhouse and his family many years ago via a mutual friend. We met in person for the first time at the Parasota convention, and ever since we have been great friends and even became family. I think of Justin as my para-brother because since we met he has always watched out for me and protected me from bad forces on paranormal investigations. It was an exciting opportunity for me when I got to go to Wisconsin Rapids to see the schoolhouse Justin and his family purchased, and finally investigate it. My first thoughts on the schoolhouse as I pulled up to it was, holy crap, it is huge. The schoolhouse itself gives off a somewhat creepy vibe, like you just know it’s haunted and there are things happening in it. I fell in love with the schoolhouse the first time I laid eyes on the building.

After my first encounter, I have been to the schoolhouse about ten times. The schoolhouse has became my second home, and I always have a open invite to come and stay. I also book the investigations for the schoolhouse for Justin and the other owners when teams want to come in. I was one of the people who helped set up this particular fundraiser that you came to, in order to raise some money for the restoration that Justin is doing. I try to help the school as much as I can because I love it so much. This schoolhouse is a hidden treasure in the Midwest.

The first thing that pops into my head when it comes to experiences at the schoolhouse would have to be my lock-in in the coal room in the basement. This was a bet that Justin gave me; if I could last one hour in the coal room, I would get $60. He didn’t believe I could last one hour alone in the very haunted room. I wanted to prove him wrong, so I accepted. This was a true lock-in; Justin locked me in where the only way out was with a key. He set up a camera in the coal room so he could keep an eye on me. After he locked me in, he left the basement with no flashlights, no lights of any kind, and no gear at all. The only thing I had was a voice recorder and the video camera he placed in the room. No one was on the floor above me or the floor above that. Everyone else was in the attic investigating.

Not even five minutes after he left, all hell broke loose. I kept hearing footsteps outside the room and other noises. Then I kept hearing noises within the coal room, which is when I started to freak out. I saw a full-body apparition in front of my face, moving toward the camera; that is when the camera became disconnected from the cord. It is the type of cord that locks when you connect it, and you have to unlock it before disconnecting, so it would take a lot of energy to do it.

As the full-body apparition moved closer to me, I freaked out, then it disappeared. That’s when I heard banging on the door from the outside, like it was trying to open the door. Justin came down because he saw the camera was disconnected. When he came to the basement, he saw that the door was pulled out. He thought it was me, but it wasn’t. He left the coal room and the noises continued, the door being opened, banging on the washer/dryer, footsteps. Suddenly, the light in the main basement room turned on, and then shut off, I thought it was Justin playing a joke on me. I kept seeing feet in the crack of the door. These noises kept happening for over an hour, and it turns out, it wasn’t Justin. I think the spirit of the janitor was trying to get into the room. I’m not sure who was the spirit IN the room with me was, but it was a child’s height.

On other investigations I have done at the schoolhouse, we have caught full-body apparitions in the attic, the basement and a couple of times in the other rooms. We have heard voices, and interaction with spirits in many different ways. The spirit of the little girl, Betty, loves to come out and play with us. She loves to dance and sing when we sing children’s songs. The spirit of the janitor loves to come out in the basement when down there. There are also spirits of teachers and other children seen and heard throughout the school.

In 2012, new spirits entered the school. Justin and the family bought two beds from the famous Lemp Mansion and we think a couple of the spirits came with the beds. We have made contact with two males. We aren’t sure yet exactly who they are, but we believe they were part of the Lemp family.

The spirits at the schoolhouse love the spirit box, flashlights, and toys (especially the spirits of the children). They love to communicate with the flashlights.

After speaking to Jenny about the history of the First Ward, I did some research on the beds from the Lemp Mansion. The Lemp Mansion has a tragic and haunted history, a history that could cause the possibility of spiritual attachment to occur, bringing those spirits into the First Ward.

The Lemp Mansion is a reportedly haunted mansion in St. Louis, Missouri, a site of sadness and tragedy. William J. Lemp Sr.’s favored son Fredrick became ill and passed away at the young age of twenty-eight. Soon after, a close friend also passed away. William Sr. suffered for three years with depression and eventually committed suicide by gunshot in 1904. The youngest daughter of William Sr., Elsa, married a man named Thomas from whom she would ultimately file for divorce. They reconciled in March of 1920, but that reconciliation ended when she shot herself later that month. In 1922, William Sr.’s son, William Jr., committed suicide by gunshot in the house due to marital and business issues that plagued him when he took over the family business upon his father’s suicide. Charles Lemp, another son of William Sr., lived in the mansion with his dog. In 1949, he shot his dog before committing suicide himself. The only surviving son of William Sr. was Edwin, who died of natural causes at the age of ninety. Most of the suicides, as well as other deaths related to the Lemp family, took place in the actual mansion. The owners of the First Ward believe one of the beds they have is either a bed where a suicide took place, or where the body was laid after.

It was an interesting story, and made the First Ward Schoolhouse even more compelling and I was greatly looking forward to seeing the place for myself.

The Investigation

On a warm afternoon in late September, I arrived at the First Ward Schoolhouse to attend a fundraiser to help with restoration of the historical building. It was a much larger building that I had anticipated seeing. I ran my hand against the rough red brick and looked at the names scratched into the walls. I saw names like Sarah, Nikki, Matty; names from 1992 and names dated 1952. The giant dome that used to be on the top of the schoolhouse was now resting in front of it. It was so large even a tall 6-foot, 4-inch man like Fact or Faked’s Ben Hanson looked miniscule in comparison. The building looked old, yet it held up well over the years. Minus typical wear and tear issues, it still stood strong and proud in its little corner of Wisconsin Rapids.

The house was bigger than I imagined it would be. When walking in, there was an entryway with stairs that led to the second floor and down to the basement. Walking through a doorway to the left of the stairs, there was the large room that was originally the kindergarten room when the schoolhouse was still in action. If you head to the back of the kindergarten room, you will find another set of stairs up to the second floor and down to the basement. The second floor has a few former classrooms that are now being used as bedrooms. One room on the second floor contains the beds that were brought over from the Lemp Mansion. Another room, which was locked to the general public, originally a music room, was thoroughly soundproofed so as to not disturb other classes. This room became another bedroom used by the owners. There is also a large attic, a very large basement with a room that served as a cafeteria and gym, and the infamous coal room where much of the paranormal activity seems to occur.

In the kindergarten room, there were many tables set up for the guests of honor and other merchants who were there throughout the day during the fundraiser. I met Tina Anderson, a jeweler selling bracelets, earrings, and necklaces made from precious stones such as agates. I purchased a beautiful purple-colored agate necklace from her that I still wear today. It has turned into a good-luck charm of sorts for me.

I also had the great honor to meet filmmakers Christopher Saint Booth and his brother Philip Adrian Booth. They make great movies and documentaries such as Death Tunnel, Children of the Grave, Children of the Grave II, Spooked, The Possessed, The Unseen, and The Haunted Boy, all of which are available on DVD at spookedtv.com. The documentaries such as Children of the Grave I & II, Spooked and The Unseen show some of the most frightening and sad tales of the lives lost that still stick around. The fact that the stories are all true, the EVPs you hear are real, and the photos you see are unedited; makes the documentaries all the more intense. The Booth brothers expertly convey the deepest of emotion, raw and real, through their work. Their passion comes through each of their projects. It was an exciting moment to meet them face to face.

Having seen so many of their movies and documentaries, this was a big honor for me. I was able to stand next to the makers of these documentaries that made me tear up, gave me the chills, and made me jump, all at the same time.

The author with the Booth brothers and Keith Age.
Photo courtesy of Andrea Mesich.

That first day I had requested a reading from psychics Scotty Rorek and Deb Lantz out of curiosity. We went into the backyard of the First Ward in the sunlight and peaceful quiet of that warm September day. The first thing Scotty said to me before we even sat down is that he didn’t know why I approached him for a reading. He stated that he clearly saw a wall built up around me that showed him I didn’t believe in psychics or psychic abilities. When he asked Deb to join him, he kept telling her that it was odd that I wanted a reading even though I thought this was all bunk. He was right about that. Being honest, I planned on proving a point by not giving any information to him or Deb that could be used to do what is called a “cold reading.”

Cold readings are used by alleged psychics to elicit information needed from the subject of the reading without their knowledge in order to make it appear they are seeing things they are not. For example, a psychic may say “I see a J, someone with a J … Jason, Janice, Jake, Janelle … it is with a J … ” the person may say, “My father is John” and from there the psychic could ask, “Is your father deceased?” If the person says yes, the psychic can run from there to make it appear they are speaking to that spirit.

I had every intention of making sure I did not allow for cold readings, so Scotty’s initial thought was very interesting. But we went ahead with it. Both he and Deb made mention of a good number of things that they would not have prior knowledge of. Scotty knew instantly that I was a writer even though no one at the convention knew why I was there. He also knew I was having some issues with a few chapters due to skepticism. He stated the words would flow easier if I kept a healthy amount of skepticism, but lowered the wall just a bit. I had to stop denying my experiences or looking for reasons they occurred and just accept them for what they were. If I were able to do that, to be honest with myself and my readers, the words would just flow. Deb hit on a few personal things, again, I can’t imagine how anyone would know. I barely said a word as to not give hints. I was very surprised.

What I enjoyed most was that they did not talk to me about the future, and they didn’t tell me to buy their books or call a 1-900 number for more information—they talked to me about what they saw of my personality and my past, and how to use that to make a better present, be a better me, which will help me in the future. The conversation was uplifting. I left with a little less skepticism. It was an interesting meeting. I hold one proud title: Deb said I am the only one to date who didn’t cry during the readings. Apparently, people cry during readings. Perhaps I was too fascinated.

There were many interesting people at the convention. I ran into Jenny Gurney (who provided the history of the schoolhouse) and her mother, Bonnie. I also met a demonologist, the owners of the schoolhouse, psychics, a spiritual artist, paranormal radio-show hosts, other paranormal investigators. Everywhere I turned, there were new and interesting people to meet.

I had the pleasure of meeting another psychic medium, Justin Chase Mullins, who later shared with me his thoughts on the First Ward after the fundraiser came to a close. I asked him to share with me his experiences as an investigator and then as a psychic medium.

This is based upon just evidence, and not my role as a psychic medium. I was in the basement, my friend Daniel and I did an EVP session. I said I am Justin Chase Mullins, I’m a psychic and medium. Give me a sign of your presence. We captured an EVP of a growl and then a light bulb in the next room exploded, which we were able to capture evidence of.

Later, we investigated the attic. In leaving the attic, I heard my name said out loud. I had a lot of spirit box EVPs from the classroom upstairs, with the boards. I proclaimed that I am Mr. Mullins, the new teacher. There was lots of aggressive EVP responses to that. I feel like there’s still such an authority there, one that punished the kids cruelly and hurt them through punishment. I just got the vibe I couldn’t shake that the children were hurt.

Speaking as a psychic medium now, prior to coming to the location, they called so I could do a reading without having a chance to investigate the place. I picked up on wooden floors, an attic, upstairs, there is a man near the window on the left. He appears as a shadow and looms over. He did bad things there. He died at the location, upstairs. There was also another death of a heart attack. There’s a boy spirit and a girl spirit who linger around each other. Also present are a dominant male authority faculty member who still rules the school and a singular female who is very strict. The children had harsh punishment and some of the authority figures were abusive.

When I asked if the spirit Justin saw dying at the location upstairs was the same darker entity that is often seen or felt in the basement, he stated: “Yes, the basement is borderline demonic, very dark. I got sick from being there. The classroom on the left on the second floor has a dominant male teacher also.” So in Justin Chase Mullin’s beliefs, there were more deaths in the house, though no documentation has been found.

The fundraiser had a number of events going on: psychic readings, psychic artistry, and sales of ghost hunting DVDs, books, and investigative equipment. There was also a silent auction with jewelry and items donated by various paranormal celebrities and local businesses to help raise money for the First Ward. Two deejays, Joe and Kale, from a show called The Skeptical Edge, were broadcasting live on location.

However, I was most interested in the investigation that would happen later that night, and the next. I spent the day talking to the Booth Brothers, a little more to Scotty Rorek and Tina Anderson, then I headed back to my hotel for a quick rest. After a nap, evening was quickly growing, and the investigation was about to begin. I made sure I had all of my equipment with me. My K-II meter was in perfect working order, my Mel meter and both of my recorders had brand-new batteries. I packed them up in a backpack and headed back to the First Ward.

At the beginning of the night, we divided up into small groups and each took turns in different locations. One group went to the bedroom on the second floor, one went to the basement, one went into the kindergarten room, and my group headed first to the attic. The plan would be to stay in a location for an hour, then rotate down. When we’d go to the second-floor bedroom, the team in that bedroom would then go down to the kindergarten room, and so on.

While in the attic, I placed my recorders in various places, set the K-II meter down where I could see it, and then held my Mel meter to check for any fluctuations in temperature. The unfortunate thing about the attic was the echo. You could hear everything that was going on in the lower levels, no matter how quiet they were trying to be. When we heard a knock, the knock could have been from a spirit or from someone in the second-floor bedroom or the kindergarten room. Whispers could have been coming from anywhere.

Justin Chase Mullins decided to do a spirit box session. A spirit box (or ghost box) is a modified portable AM/FM radio that scans the band nonstop, creating, in essence, nothing more than white noise and audio remnants from broadcast stations. Entities are able to use those remnants and the white noise to form words in response to questions. It is a highly debated piece of equipment; the main issue is, you cannot completely rule out explainable causes for responses, such as a station broadcast briefly coming through, or CB radio interference. This is why the investigators using this device at the First Ward would often ask a spirit to use the spirit box to say a certain swear word that would not be allowed on the air due to FCC regulations. Sometimes they would tell the spirit their name, and ask the spirit to repeat it a few times in a row.

Due to the sound coming from below, I had a hard time concentrating on the session and didn’t pick up on much of what was being said. I simply kept my eyes on my Mel and my K-II, and whispered a few questions of my own, hoping to pick something up on my digital recorders. It seemed nothing was happening. The Mel didn’t go off and the K-II didn’t even light up from natural EMFs—there was simply nothing. The hour went by fairly quickly, and it was time to head to the next room. I took as many pictures as I could before leaving, but I just had the sense that if anything was there, it did not want to make itself known.

My group headed to the second-floor bedroom. Minus the beds, it still very much had the appearance of a classroom. I took one of the smaller beds; Jenny Gurney, who was in the group, and another investigator sat on the larger bed. Justin Chase Mullins and a few other investigators sat at a table in the middle of the room, while two women and one of their husbands took chairs in the corner. The two women were sisters. I learned this when I thought one of the women said something aimed at me, before she apologized and stated she was saying it to her sister.

The attic of the First Ward Schoolhouse.
Photo by Andrea Mesich.

One sister found a skeleton dressed in a white robe toy on a string, and started teasing the other sister with it. They started giggling. As they joked around with the toy, my K-II meter started spiking intermittently. It was odd; it hadn’t moved since I sat down. The Mel meter’s temperature gauge started showing a minor drop in temperature, nothing that would have sparked my attention. I chalked it up to normal fluctuations in natural EMF and temperature. The spirits of children are known to appear in the second-floor room, especially the little girl. We prepared to reach out to her and any other spirit willing to speak with us.

Justin Chase Mullins took some time to get a feel for the room. He made mention of the larger bed, stating he saw odd energy around it—as if someone had died in the bed. He said this with no prior knowledge that the bed was said to be one of the beds from the Lemp Mansion, where multiple family members took their own lives. As he explained what he felt he was seeing, the K-II meter started to light up again, and once again the Mel had a minimal drop in temperature; just not enough that I thought it would be of significance.

Eventually we switched around, those of us on the beds switched with those at the tables. The second I sat at the table instead of the bed, the K-II and Mel meter became silent. We once again pulled out the spirit box, but our hour was coming to a close, and it was time to move on to the kindergarten room, so we decided against another session. As we moved from the attic to the second floor, I noticed a notable drop in sound interference. The noise wasn’t as frequent and the noise wasn’t nearly as loud, which made things a lot easier. The same went for the kindergarten room. It seemed the echoes and noise dulled each floor down.

There were rumors of children spirits in the kindergarten room. One investigator stated he had been there before and was able to get the children to communicate with them by playing games and promising they could go outside to play. He did say there is a spirit they refer to as “the Shepherd,” who keeps the children from leaving. He encountered issues with the Shepherd during that investigation. The children seemed to be responding, things were being felt and heard at that moment, K-II meters were going off, and EVPs were caught; then everything stopped as it seemed like a darker force entered the room. They believe it was the Shepherd stopping the children from going outside to play when they opened the doors as promised.

After some time in the kindergarten room, I decided to step up and take the reins in the EVP session. I took my Mel and K-II meters and placed them in front of me, and started asking questions. There was candy in a candy dish on the table from the fundraiser earlier that day. I told the children if they’d play a game with me, they would get candy, and I placed the candy near the meters. I explained that the K-II meter was like a carnival game. At a carnival there is a game where you take a big mallet and hit a lever with all your might, and however high the ball inside the game goes up is how strong you are. There are words like puny, mouse, weakling, muscle man, and at the very top if you ding the bell, you’re the ultimate strong man. The K-II is like that. The higher up a spirit can make the lights go, the stronger they are, and they win a prize; some candy.

Just at that moment, the K-II meter went all the way to red, and the Mel meter, for the first time, not only displayed a noted difference in temperature, the built-in EMF detector, which was at a constant 0.0 had gone up to a 3.0. Had a spirit communicated with us? Suddenly, another investigator joined the room, and closed the door behind him. We all continued our EVP work and were discussing occurrences of the past with the investigator who had already been to the location, when suddenly the door opened on its own, several minutes later!

I looked out in the hall to see a gentleman standing there. He said he saw the door open and assumed someone was leaving. Later, we discovered if the door isn’t properly latched, someone walking by the doors that lead outside opening and closing could cause enough pressure for the door to open. The investigator was positive the door was completely and properly shut, but we decided it was explainable and continued the investigation.

The hour was almost up and nothing more seemed to be happening. It was almost as if a heavier presence in the room came in the second the equipment started activating. Could a child spirit have been playing with us, and this Shepherd spirit stopped them from communicating? Perhaps the door wasn’t merely a coincidence. Maybe the Shepherd walked in and took the child away from us, as that was the moment the activity stopped.

Now it was time to head down to the basement. I was looking forward to this. We first went into the room that they were using earlier in the day for lectures. When the building was a school, this was the cafeteria that doubled as a gym. The first thing everyone noticed was a phantom smell, the smell of wood burning, or maybe like someone smoking a pipe. However, there was a bonfire earlier in the evening, and many speculated the smell was remnants of the fire. It is always good to think about and exhaust logical explanations first because that improves potential evidence collected. We felt that phantom smell, while not 100 percent positive, could be explained by natural means. Many people stated they saw an unexplained colored light in the back of the room, but not much else of note happened.

Finally, we were able to get into the coal room. I was looking forward to it. One of the previous groups mentioned that a female investigator was scratched. They could see the scratches forming on her arm right before their eyes. She felt the burning, so they put a flashlight over her arm, and the red marks started to appear at the top, and headed down toward her wrist. I knew this was going to be interesting. When we walked into the coal room, it was immediately apparent why people were “creeped out.” It seemed they kept all of the Halloween decorations in that room. Rubber evil clown masks, a giant rubber spider, a Frankenstein monster statue—it was cool and frightening at the same time.

The previous group had set up chairs, so after some small talk we each took one and closed the door. The room was relatively small. I couldn’t imagine anyone practicing basketball in the coal room as stated in the history. Someone started to explain a little about the room and the things that happen in there. As she spoke, I could feel things getting very heavy—literally heavy, as if someone was stacking bricks on top of my shoulders. I could feel the pressure as it weighed me down; word by word as she spoke, the heaviness became more intense. I tried to concentrate on what was being said, which was that the center of the wall to my left is said to be a portal or vortex for spirits to travel through. Some called it the gateway to hell since it seemed there was such a dark spirit in the coal room.

I didn’t get the entire conversation as I started to feel even heavier at the mention of the gateway to hell. My Mel meter was starting to show a drop in temperature and a slight spike in EMFs. I didn’t say anything right away. I didn’t want anyone to get worried. Suddenly, I was having trouble breathing. Many times people who experience the paranormal say they feel as if they have had the wind knocked out of them, but this was not the case for me. I actually felt my throat tightening, like something was grasping me by the neck. Someone noticed the color leaving my face and asked if I was all right. I passed it off and said I was fine, but I could still feel my throat tightening. You could almost feel four fingers on one side and a thumb on the other. I could see the Mel meter next to my feet still dropping in temperature and the EMF had spiked to 5, the highest I’ve ever seen it go. The feeling was heavy, dark, and angry. Something was angry at ME!

Finally, I had had enough and it was time to make the feeling stop. Going to my Catholic training, in my mind I started saying the “Our Father” prayer, and making the sign of the cross on my knee with my finger. As I did this, the feeling eased up around my neck, but the heaviness did not leave the room right away. Again, someone asked me if I was okay. I simply asked, “Did anyone else feel it get really heavy in here just now, like just dark and heavy?” Suddenly there was a collective sigh around the room as if everyone was saying, “Thank God it wasn’t just me.” It seemed people were a little cautious about speaking up, probably out of fear of being looked at oddly. Now that I had finally said something, they knew it was okay. I explained what I just experienced, when someone else spoke up and said she was having issues breathing, but wasn’t sure what to think. Her issues started almost immediately after mine stopped. A man stood up and declared that he was done and needed to get out of the room immediately. His wife stood up shortly after and said she was done too. “This room isn’t right” was all she said as she exited.

At that point, no one was sure if they wanted to stay. I wanted to. I needed to stay and figure out what was going on; however, if everyone else was leaving, what was I to do? One brave soul spoke up and said that she was going to stay alone if she had to. While several people did leave to join other groups, those of us who were curious enough stayed with her. Eventually the deejay from the radio show, Joe, joined us in the coal room. After he settled, without warning, a basketball came rolling between me and the girl sitting to my right. It rolled forward a little ways, then stopped. There was no logical explanation why it suddenly rolled out. I could see when someone came in or left opening and closing the door behind them or when people were moving around, but that was happening the whole time I was there. People were moving around, leaving, entering, and the ball never moved. I was unaware there was even a ball in the room until that second. It wasn’t until he entered, sat against the wall, and we were all settled and about to start an EVP session again that it rolled out. How strange was it that it was a basketball in this former basketball room?

We explained to Joe what happened before he came, the feeling of anger in the room, the hand around my throat, and the couple leaving as fast as they could. When he was brought up to speed, we started an EVP session. Joe spoke up immediately and asked if there was an oppressive spirit present, and what issue they had with people. We paused, and I continued the question asking if the issue was with women. There was a man in the room previously before he decided to leave, yet it seemed the two who had issues were myself and another female. So it seemed to go straight for women. We continued on like this for some time.

The hour was up, and it was nearing four a.m., the end of the first night of investigation. I knew that come the next night of investigations, I’d want to be down in the coal room for the majority of the evening. I headed back to my hotel after cleansing myself with a few prayers and insisting no spirit was allowed to follow me. When I reached the hotel, I got into bed and immediately fell asleep.

The next day I went back to the fundraiser where I had the honor of meeting Mr. Ben Hansen—former FBI agent, and star of the hit Syfy series Fact or Faked: Paranormal Files. Ben was going to be a guest investigator during the second night of investigations, and I was looking forward to seeing his techniques and possibly learning a few new things about investigating the paranormal from a professional. Of course, being a fan of Mr. Hansen and his show, I made sure to stop and get an autographed photo as well as take the opportunity to get a photo with Ben for my scrapbook. For those who haven’t met him in person, he is a very tall man, standing 6-foot-4 at least. I jokingly asked the gentleman who took the photo if he was able to get all of Ben in it. Mr. Hansen was extremely friendly at the convention and had a nice word for everyone he met.

Ben Hansen gave an excellent lecture to those attending the fundraiser at First Ward. Photo by Andrea Mesich.

Later in the afternoon, I had the chance to listen to one of Ben’s lectures on the paranormal and specifically, the extraterrestrial. It was an extremely thought-provoking seminar. He showed things from a point of view that would even make skeptics take notes. It was a fresh perspective on some cases I already knew about, but had been skeptical about, until his lecture showed me a few things I needed to rethink. His lecture showed his knowledge on the subject of the paranormal and extraterrestrial, which made me look forward to seeing his advice for paranormal investigations. I had a feeling that with Mr. Hansen’s expertise, I would learn about new devices or investigation techniques I could use in my own research. However, Mr. Hansen had to wait. I needed to get back to the coal room one more time.

After having dinner, and getting a quick nap in, it was time for the second night of the investigation. This time I started in the coal room. I joined a group with two girls and a few gentlemen. When we first got to the room, we whispered quietly about how we would tackle the investigation. It was decided that two of the gentleman would enter a crawlspace that is said to be extremely active, while the rest of us went into the coal room and shut ourselves in. Someone in the group made the suggestion that of us girls, one should go into the hall alone, as the spirit of the angry man seems to make himself known to females specifically. I immediately jumped at the chance to investigate the hall on my own hoping the spirit would make himself known.

Not even a few minutes into standing in the hall, my K-II started to go off; it went off all the way to red. I did an EMF sweep and found two places several feet away where there were consistent spikes in EMF near wiring. Using my Mel meter, I noticed the EMFs were minimal—not enough for me to consider the spikes on the K-II as anything but natural or man-made.

One of the girls from the group joined me in the hall and showed me a few places to test with the K-II and the Mel to see if EMF spikes they were getting back in the coal room could be explained. At the end of the hall was a room. The doorway was open, but there were no lights on, so it was dark inside the room. As we were about to head back into the coal room to sweep the room for consistent EMFs, something drew my eyes toward that room at the end of the hall.

A figure from within the dark room had appeared in the doorway, into the lighted area near the hall; it stopped to look directly at me. I can see the figure now as clearly as I saw it then, but it remains difficult to describe. I could see arms; one arm by its side, the other holding onto the frame of the doorway as if bracing itself. I could see the head, which slowly tilted to one side in an inquisitive manner. I saw it was standing on two legs; I could see how short it was based on how far up it stood in the doorway. It was definitely shorter that myself (I am 5-foot-7). It was too short to be anyone in my current group. I could see the shape of the clothes the “person” was wearing. The top, whatever or whoever it was, was wearing was white, and I could see the shape of the hair. However I didn’t see facial features—no eyes, no nose, no mouth, nothing that would define the figure as a child or adult other than the height, which could have been the height of a child. The face was blank. The figure also wasn’t solid. It had a translucent look, almost as if you’d be able to see right through into the room. After a few seconds of staring at each other in awe, it quickly ducked back into the room as if running away from my gaze.

I immediately pointed out what I had seen to the member I was standing with, and we ran into the room to see if anyone was there—a stray investigator from another group, or anyone. We reached the room in seconds and it was empty. There was nothing in that room. Even more, I noted there was no way in or out of the room except for the doorway in which we came.

I searched for a panel, a door, anything that someone could have come and gone through without having to pass by us. The only way out was the doorway where it stood for those few moments. So if it were an actual person, it should have still been in the room, but there was nothing in the room at all. To this day, I still think about what I saw. I can see it even now as I close my eyes, and I still get chills up my spine. It was there. We looked at each other long enough for me to know it was really there, and I know that whatever it was, it was looking back at me with eyes I couldn’t see. There is no doubt in my mind.

After a few moments of looking around, trying to figure out what was going on, we headed back to the coal room. We began another EVP session. One investigator began to ask if the spirit wanted me to go back into the hall alone. As she was asking, the girl who came into the hall with me asked if she should volunteer to go out alone instead. The male investigator with us asked in a low and quiet voice, “You’d do that?” This investigator had admitted she was feeling really scared at the moment, so it wasn’t something we expected her to offer.

Before we could decide who should return alone into the hall, the gentlemen who were in the crawlspace appeared in the room. They were pale white and out of breath and had beads of sweat dripping from their brows. They stated that they needed to get out of there. One anxiously said they had come face to face with a really bad entity, and they started to feel as if something was taking over their emotions. One explained that he started feeling angry, an emotion he rarely felt. It scared him and they just had to get out. You could see by the looks on their faces and the trembling of their hands that they were not exaggerating. They were dead serious. I wasn’t one to doubt them after what I had just seen not too long before.

After a while we regrouped and divided up. Some of our group went to investigate a small utility closet at the end of the basement, while one investigator and I stayed in the coal room alone. She took out her spirit box and started a session. There was a constant voice coming through, and it didn’t sound friendly. A few times we heard a few “F” words (which would not be allowed on the radio). The more we got the unfriendly voice, the more the other investigator started to complain that she wasn’t feeling well. Finally we heard a different voice come through. It said “Help.” My fellow investigator and I looked at each other.

“Are you a different spirit?” My K-II meter lit up for the first time in the room as we heard what sounded like a “yes” come through the spirit box. “Were you the one trying to communicate to us for help and we were thinking you were the angry spirit?” The K-II lit up again. “We’re sorry. We didn’t know it was you,” I stated. “So are you alone now?” Suddenly, without explanation, a flashlight belonging to someone in the group turned on. The flashlight was sitting there, unused for the last hour—no one touched it, it had not moved, or rolled, nor had it been bumped—yet suddenly it was on. “If you turned the flashlight on, can you turn it off again to let us know?” The flashlight turned off.

It suddenly got very cold behind my back. So cold, I actually took notice of it. It had been a solid 70 degrees according to my Mel meter from the moment we had come into the coal room. Now, as the flashlight seemed to turn on and off at command, the temperature around me dropped to 63 degrees, a little shy of the 10-degree drop that clearly indicates activity. I felt the wall behind me; it was cold as ice. One thing I should note about the wall—I was sitting against the wall that on the previous night had been called the gateway to hell.

I decided to ask another question. “Do you really need help?” There was skepticism in my voice. Something didn’t feel right to me. Nothing happened. No K-II, no flashlight, nothing. So I asked again, “Is the spirit with us in need of help?” Nothing happened again. No K-II, no flashlight. The cold spot seemed to be moving now. I felt as if I was starting to feel warmth again. The temperature near me was now 69 degrees and the wall was not cold against my back. However, the temperature near the other investigator was starting to cool down. We asked if whatever was in the room was just messing with us, pretending to be in need of help as a joke; the flashlight turned on, and the temperature dropped to 66.6 degrees. I took that as either the spirit playing a cruel joke on us, tugging at our heart strings, or there was a spirit there looking for help, and this darker entity took over and suppressed it like the shepherd in the kindergarten room the night before.

Eventually the other investigator had to leave, but left the flashlight in my hands as the next group came down. In the next group, one of the Booth Brothers and another investigator, Keith Age, who has worked with the Booths on many occasions, joined us in the basement. They passed around new equipment that I hadn’t worked with before, taught us how to use it and gave us the opportunity to put it into action. However, back in the coal room now with Judy Carl joining me briefly, nothing much seemed to happen except floating cold spots. It was 70 degrees, and when asked to make the temperature drop, it dropped into the mid-60s. Once again it seemed to float, it was pacing between those of us in the room. When I started to feel warmer, Judy spoke up, saying she felt it getting colder by her.

When the cold spot was on you, despite it being in the 60s, which isn’t freezing cold, you felt chilled to the bone. I could feel my body shaking and my teeth chattered, it was a very physical reaction. However, that seemed to be all that happened, and even after a while, that stopped. The flashlight hadn’t gone off since the last incident, and none of the other equipment seemed to be getting any responses. There was no feeling of a presence in the room. It was quiet.

We joined Keith Age in the main room of the basement and discussed what happened. We had a debate about the flashlight, we discussed other equipment, orbs in photos, and investigation techniques. I felt the more we spoke, the more I felt the pressure lifting. I hadn’t even realized that pressure was there until I started to feel so much more relaxed. It was getting toward the end of the night and there were two more rooms left to do in a short time. I decided to head up to the second-floor bedroom and use that time to investigate with Ben Hansen of Fact or Faked.

When I walked upstairs, Ben Hansen was sitting at the table working on a contraption with a little LED light. I sat down at the table with him and Tina Anderson, the jeweler I had purchased my necklace from. I placed my recorders down in front of me, as well as the K-II and Mel meters. Owner Justin Libigs stopped by and gave a little history about the room, how the little girl seems to frequent the room the most; she has been physically seen, and heard without need of equipment. Once he finished telling us the history, he said goodbye and then left us to it. The lights went out, and Ben explained his device. Fixing it up just so, he explained that with just a simple touch, or bump, the light would be activated. His theory was, with just a little energy, even a weaker spirit would be able to communicate by turning on the light. He tested it a few times to make sure it was functioning properly. Everything seemed to be in working order.

It was unusually quiet in those first minutes of the investigation. The device never went off. We sat and listened carefully to what was going on around us, however the room was still. Eventually, Ben wanted to try a new tactic to see if he could make things move along. He asked if anyone was comfortable being touched by an entity. As he asked, he pulled out a device that tests your heart rate. If you’ve been to the doctor’s office, many nurses will test your vitals before seeing the doctor. This device was like that little monitor on your index finger to test your pulse. His hope was if a spirit perhaps touched someone’s hand or shoulder, their pulse would quicken, and the device would record it, giving the group something to work with. The first step in communication.

I had many experiences in my investigations. The night before, I had the feeling of a hand around my throat. At the Mission Point Theater on Mackinac Island, I had the feeling of something tugging on my sleeve. It was not something I was uncomfortable with. I felt that these were the experiences we, as investigators, can use to learn more about the paranormal. I also felt it would be better for an investigator like me to do this rather than someone at the convention for the thrill who could potentially be traumatized by the experience, so when no one else spoke up, I volunteered. Ben placed the meter on my finger. We sat in complete silence after letting whatever spirit may have been with us know that it was okay to take my hand, touch my arm, or tug on my sleeve. After quite a while of sitting, it was obvious the test was going nowhere.

I did not feel anything of note other than exhaustion as the early morning hours were creeping upon us. I felt no touch, no feeling of anything being around me; it was still and quiet. My pulse remained the same the entire time it was on my finger. If there was an entity in that room, he or she was being shy. Not that I would blame the spirit. All these strangers poking around asking silly questions over and over. Ben placed it on his finger to make sure it was functioning, which the device was, so we put the experiment aside as another fail.

By this point, nothing had occurred to make us think there was an entity present in the room. We tried several things, including trying to get the spirit to push a water bottle off of the chalkboard, to no avail. By this time, people were getting either slap-happy or snippy as it neared the wee hours of the morning.

As we prepared to wrap up, Ben thought for a second and changed his mind about leaving. He decided to try one more approach before calling it a night. He stood up and pretended to be a stern teacher. He introduced himself as the new head of the class and explained that he needed to be respected. He started talking about paddling, a common form of punishment in many schools back in the day. Ben stated in a strict voice that if any children got out of line, the paddle could be used. After some time of playing a teacher, he took notice of a noise, a heavy and deep sigh. No one except Ben seemed to hear it. Suddenly it happened again.

“There, that, who did that?” I thought it may have been me, as I let out a little yawn, but he stated it wasn’t a yawn, and it wasn’t coming from where I was sitting. “It definitely wasn’t a yawn. Who just went, sigh?” (He demonstrated the exact sound he heard.) Everyone insisted it wasn’t them. No one made the breathy sound he was demonstrating. Ben seemed surprised when he saw our blank expressions. “You guys didn’t hear that?”

Eventually, these noises became extremely common, and others started hearing the sounds. They were coming from above us, from behind us, from the hall, from right next to us. No one would take credit for these noises. After the first few times, everyone was sitting as still as possible, finally wide awake with no urge to yawn; yet the sighs were still happening. Being as quiet as we had become, it couldn’t have been us.

There was a woman named Rosalyn Bown with our group who was also hearing the sighs. She joined Ben and took over asking a few questions. Rosalyn is a ghost hunter extraordinaire who was a member of the Ghost Hunters spin-off Ghost Hunters Academy on Syfy; she also appeared on the National Geographic Channel for paranormal programming. She is currently the co-founder of her own investigative group, “Perspective Paranormal Research.”

“Do you need help? What kind of help do you need? Did someone do something bad to you?” Rosalyn asked with a voice of concern and compassion. After a few seconds there was a little creak, and then a very audible moan of exasperation, like someone trying to communicate and sighing with annoyance that no one seemed to understand. As soon as the voice was uttered, everyone stood up and looked around. It was one of the first times everyone heard the voice together as a group. Before this incident, some would hear it, some wouldn’t. This time everyone was still, everyone was listening, and everyone seemed to hear it.

“What was THAT?” was all Ben could utter in shock.

“Check the hall please. I heard a little creak from over by the door,” Rosalyn stated. One of the investigators ran to the door and looked out asking if anyone was out there. She returned looking confused.

“There’s some water running in the bathroom, but … there’s no one out there.” Rosalyn took back the reins once people settled down.

“You need to know, we are here because we want to help you. Do you need help?” After Rosalyn finished asking, Tina Anderson sat up and looked at her K-II …

“Um, My K-II just started going off.” The second she said that, there was a loud noise.

“What was that?” Ben asked, “That wasn’t us?”

“Did it sound like it was over here?” I asked.

“Yeah, it was a … sigh … ” I had heard it, but I thought I was hearing things. Apparently I was, but everyone else was hearing it as well. This was more than just a sigh; there was a male voice attached to it, it was more of a moan. It was something everyone heard, and everyone knew they were not the cause.

It was toward the end of the night, and the group with Ben still had to do the kindergarten room, however, only Rosalyn and I headed down. Once we reached the room, I set my equipment up while Rosalyn played back her recorder. Without needing headphones, you could hear the very sighs and moans that were occurring during our investigation with Ben. We looked at each other and knew instantly, Ben had to hear this. We ran back up to the second floor and played the audio for Ben. It confirmed what we were all hearing. It validated the shared experience.

At that, it seemed the night was over. In a sign of pure, exhausted slap-happiness, Ben treated us to very bad impression of Minnesotan and Yooper accents, a decent impression of John F. Kennedy, and a few cartoon voices. It seemed there was more giggling than paranormal investigation, so with that, the night came to an end. Everyone hugged new friends goodbye, and after a night’s sleep at the hotel, I took the long drive home.

Upon arriving home to the great northern woods, I realized one of my pieces of equipment was missing—I could not find my recorder. After a frantic week without one of my recorders, Jenny Gurney’s mother Bonnie amazingly found a recorder that went missing at the First Ward, and was able to get it back to me. In the heat of the moment when Rosalyn and I heard the sighs, we ran back to show Ben, and I left my recorder behind in the kindergarten room. While we were back where Ben was, Bonnie had found the recorder and mistook it for one of her’s. After a hundred thank yous, the recorder arrived in the mail and was once again back in my hands. Once I had both of my recorders, it was time to upload the material and listen for anything unexplainable. I didn’t have to wait too long.

I listened to the audio of the first night, fast-forwarding through the attic due to the noise and echoing. I came to when we had gone to the second floor bedroom with the beds from the Lemp Mansion. I heard myself claim one of the beds, I heard the sisters walk in, and I heard the giggles coming from the two sisters over the skeleton doll. After a few good chuckles there was silence. In the midst of the silence was this tiny little child’s voice, a little girl, saying very clearly: “Hi Nancy … ”

It was as clear as day. It was a child’s voice. A child has a certain tone in their voice we lose as adults. Even women with higher voices still sound like adults with higher voices. This was a child. The voice was a little timid, like a shy little girl saying “Hi” to someone she just met.

I wish I had more closely eavesdropped on the sisters’ conversations to see if they used their names when speaking to one another. Was one of them Nancy, and this little voice was trying to get their attention? One paranormal investigator I sent the EVPs to for a second set of ears suggested that to her, it sounded like “I’m Nancy” and not “Hi Nancy.” Hi Nancy or I’m Nancy, maybe the sisters made the toy skeleton look like a lot of fun to play with, the little girl was trying to get their attention so she could play too.

A little later in the same room, Justin Chase Mullins, the psychic medium, was trying to get a feel for the beds. As he was concentrating, there was this soft voice. It was the same voice of that same little girl. She sounded bored and impatient, as she stated, “Come on and play!”

A few things struck me about these recordings. To me, the little girl sounded to be about five to eight years old. I place her at that age because, from baby to about four years old, boys and girls tend to sound alike. When they are about five, they start to sound like little boys and little girls, then by eight or nine years old, they start getting their big-kid voices, and then onto puberty where they start to grow into their adult voices and lose that childlike quality. This was definitely a child’s voice, but obviously feminine, probably between five and eight years old. I knew for a fact there was no child between five and eight years old—in fact, there were no children present during the investigation— so it was odd.

Another thing that got me about the voice, whether she was saying “Hi Nancy” or “I’m Nancy,” she was talking to the people in the room; yet no one responded to the voice. No one said, “Oh hey, hi,” or “What’s up?” There was no reaction to the voice, which could explain the impatience when I once again heard the girl whining, “Come on and play.”

The other thing that struck me was that the voice was intelligent. The sisters were playing with a doll, and there is the sound of a little girl trying to introduce herself. Then the same little girl, impatiently asking for someone to play with her. If you look at the doll, and the fact the little girl wanted to play, it was obvious the spirit was speaking in direct relation to what was going on in the room.

In the kindergarten room after our group was done with the second-floor bedroom, I caught the sound of giggling, that coincided with the one time my K-II meter lit up and the Mel spiked; but I could not say for sure that the voice was from a spirit and not a natural person in the room, or passing by the room. Not much else happened in the way of audio.

The next room was the coal room. When we first got down to the coal room, we were all making small talk. “Oh Ben Hansen is going to be here tomorrow … ” “It’s already tomorrow” … “Has everyone taken Justin’s tour?” “No” “No” “Yes” “No.” “Okay … ” as these small conversations were going on, there was an odd voice that sounded almost like, “All right, sit down.”

The odd thing about the voice was that it sounded like it was right in the microphone of my recorders. What makes that odd is the fact that I was holding my recorders to my chest as I squeezed between people. You can hear my voice before this sound, but I sounded farther away—this was right into the mic. Someone would have had to speak into my chest, and I think I would have noticed that. This was unexplainable, especially since no one replied to the voice as if it went unnoticed.

After everyone sat down and one of the investigators explained about the “portal to hell” along the wall of the room, I relived that moment when I felt as if I was being choked. I could hear myself take in a deep breath, and let out a quivering breath. I did this a few times almost as if I was trying to catch my breath. I heard someone ask if I was okay, and I brushed it off like I was fine. I heard myself gag a little, then again try to catch my breath. I could picture myself at that moment saying a prayer in my head and making the sign of the cross on my knee. Once again someone asked if I was okay, and that’s when I asked if there was a heaviness in the room.

After that, nothing seemed to happen. The couple who became frightened left the building, a few people decided to join another group in another room of the First Ward, and eventually Joe from The Skeptical Edge joined our now small group in the coal room. I heard the basketball roll out, and I heard myself explaining to Joe what had happened and then I heard Joe state:

“To the oppressive spirit here, what issue do you have with people?” There was a pause and then I started.

“You seemed to go for me when there was a guy in the room. Do you have issues with women?” In that pause between Joe and then myself speaking, there was this deep, almost mocking sounding laugh. To me it sounded like the stereotypical, mad scientist wringing his hands going “Muwahahaha.” It was a bit shocking to hear.

I looked for other causes. It certainly wasn’t any of us in the room; it was not the right frequency. It was quiet and echoed in an odd manner. There was no one else in the basement at the time; no one reacted to the sound so it wasn’t heard. No machinery had kicked on, there was no construction work going on at the time outside, and the nearest factory closed at nine p.m., so it wasn’t machinery. No matter what I used to debunk the sound, it still sounded like a male, mocking laugh, and it came after Joe asked what issue the spirit had with people; as if whatever spirit was there found what happened funny. I listened to it over and over, and it is definitely a laugh. I can’t explain it in any other way.

The rest of the evening seemed quiet. I listened to the audio again to see if I missed anything. There were many other sounds that night that I put aside because, while not completely explainable, they were not clear enough to definitively say they were of paranormal origin.

After I had listened through the audio as much as possible and concluded I had taken all I could from it, I moved on to audio from the second night. That night I started and stayed in the coal room for most of the investigation. The moment the group I tagged along with that night entered the basement, we were greeted by a not-so-friendly voice. I heard our low voices as we quietly decided how we should divide up to cover the basement.

“Get OUT!” was heard very loud and clear in the microphone of the recorders I had just lightly placed down next to me. You could hear the other investigators and myself speaking, but our voices were much quieter and farther away from the recorders—our voices low whispers. The recorders were in my sight, so no one went near them at that moment. The voice was annoyed and above all else it went ignored. No one seemed to notice or react to what was just said.

Seconds later, those of us staying in the coal room started gathering our seats. I explained what happened the night before since they were not there when it happened. One gentleman asked me if there were any other men in the group. As I explained how the one man in my group couldn’t handle what was happening, there was this noise, the only way I could describe it was a scream; it was muffled, it echoed in a weird way, no one seemed to notice the sound; it didn’t fit what was going on with the group, so I could say it was not one of us. However, it seemed to be in direct response to things we were doing. Could it be the same spirit that uttered, “Get out” being fed up that we did not listen to his demand?

I turned the volume on my computer all the way up, cranked the volume on my audio program up by several notches, and then I turned the volume control on my headphones as high as it would go. The louder the sound, the more angry of a scream it sounded. It was as if whatever was there just took a deep breath and let out a wail as loud as he could.

I left the recorders in the room while I went into the hall for that time by myself. I regretted this decision considering it was in the hall where I saw that figure. Perhaps I could have captured an EVP while out there of whatever that figure was. It was a mistake I learned from; now I always have at least one recorder with me wherever I go, at all times. These are those little lessons you pick up on each investigation you perform.

When I returned to the coal room, one of the girls asked if whatever spirit was there wanted me to go back into the hall alone. As she asked, I heard the other investigator ask if she should offer herself instead. As this small conversation was going on, there was another voice, a voice that said, “Oh yeah” as if, “Yes send her back out here,” or “Yeah I want you to go out instead.” I wasn’t overly impressed with the sound. It was very quiet and happened when others were speaking. I couldn’t discount that the sound could have had a natural origin, so I set it aside.

There were a few other sounds from the coal room, but much like some of the sounds from the first night, I could not explain the sounds, but I couldn’t deny that they could have had non-paranormal explanations. However, there was one as I left the coal room to speak with Keith Age that did give me pause.

As I exited the room, Keith was already discussing equipment and their various uses in investigations. I placed my recorders down quietly to avoid interrupting him. As he spoke, there was what sounded like a sigh of relief, and then a child’s voice saying, “Okay, you’re safe.” I went back and listened to a few of the EVPs from the previous night; the “Nancy” and “Come on and play.” It was the same little girl. It was unmistakable. It was the same voice, and the voice sounded relieved that we had exited the coal room. The sound was close to the microphone of my recorder, yet no one was standing near where I had placed the recorders except myself. And the only women in the basement besides myself, were sitting across from me, or standing up against the wall on the other side of me, farther away from the recorders. Whoever was relieved that no one was in the coal room now was not any of the investigators. Interestingly, it also came right at the time I started feeling the pressure lifting upon leaving the coal room.

Intrigued by this voice, I took the “Nancy” clip, the “Come on and play” clip, and this clip and spliced them together. I listened to all three on a loop; and there was no mistaking it—the voices were all the same. All three clips were high-pitched, childlike, female voices. They had the same tone, the same inflection, the same pitch. It was the same child.

Shortly after this incident, I headed upstairs with the group in the basement to investigate with Ben Hansen. Nothing of note happened during the early part of the investigation with Ben. I listened through the entire time we tried the little light device, then I listened as he placed the monitor on my finger. Just as nothing seemed to happen in person, nothing seemed to happen on audio. It wasn’t until he began to pretend to be a stern teacher that things took a turn. Suddenly, there were unexplainable sighs coming from all over the room, some more dramatic than others.

The most compelling sound came after he started talking about the paddle. As soon as he mentioned the paddle, and if the children got out of line they would be paddled, I heard a heartbreaking sound. It sounded like a very young child crying, “No, No, NO, NOOO,” as most children do when they are about to be punished for being naughty. The voice sounded younger than that of the little girl from the night before. It was such a sad and fearful cry. I was hoping I could find a way to debunk the sound, as I didn’t want to believe this was the terrified child it sounded like.

I thought, what if it were some sort of animal and it only sounded like a child screaming “No no no?” I looked at the various animals that would be in a building. Being from the great northern woods, I was very accustomed to the sounds of various wildlife. I knew I could rule out bats. Bats do not sound like that at all. Much of their sounds are supersonic and would not display that loudly in the recordings. The wings of the bats flapping around would make more noise, yet there were no sounds of flapping of wings. This also ruled out pigeons. The owners stated there were no rodents in the building, and even if there had been, as someone who loves domestic rats and mice (they make amazingly wonderful pets for those who have the time to offer these sociable creatures), I know for a fact no mouse or rat has ever made a sound like that, even when cranky.

There were dogs in the building earlier in the day, a large breed Seeing Eye dog, a Chihuahua, and a Pomeranian. The large dog was automatically out. The owners of the Seeing Eye dog were not involved in the investigation. They had left after the day’s festivities, as did the owners of the Pomeranian and the Chihuahua. None of the dogs were there at the time. Even if they had been, having worked in pet care, I know that even if in distress, there is no breed I can think of, especially none of the ones I met that day, that would make a sound like that.

My next thought was that perhaps it was a cat. Cats have been known to make many odd noises. So I contacted Heather Bram, one of the owners along with her fiancé Justin Libigs. She stated they had two little kittens locked in the one bedroom that wasn’t open for investigation. That room was formerly the music room, which was (and still is) thoroughly soundproofed as to not interrupt other classes that were going on. Sound does not leak through that room. She has also never heard her kittens scream. They merely make tiny little mews that would not be audible from a soundproof room.

However, she stated that she would be more than happy to test the theory that sound could escape from the room, however unlikely it was. She asked in which room the EVP was captured in. I explained it was the second-floor room with the beds from the Lemp Mansion. As soon as she heard this, she immediately said it was impossible.

“There is simply no way those tiny kittens could muster up enough voice to escape a soundproof room, and be heard all the way into that room. There is no way. Even if they screamed, even if some sound leaked from the soundproof room, they’d never be heard in there.” I asked if they were vocal, she stated they weren’t. They mewed like kittens do, but they weren’t screamers, or criers. Just playful talkers with small voices. In the end, I decided it could not have been the kittens, which were the only domestic animals there. And no wild animal, even if inside, could have made that sound. The sound was very human and, based on the volume and tone, had to be coming from within the room.

Still not wanting to call it a crying ghost child just yet, I turned to Jenny Gurney who had a lot of inside knowledge about the actual investigation.

“Do you know for a fact if there were any children there at the First Ward during the investigation? Maybe parents brought their child along, or maybe there were family/friends staying at the schoolhouse in one of the rooms closed to investigators that maybe had kids who woke up at that moment?”

“Definitely not,” Jenny replied. “Children were not allowed in the schoolhouse during the investigation, so there shouldn’t have been any kids there. It was clearly laid out by Justin that kids weren’t allowed.” The rule made sense because there were people walking all over until four o’clock in the morning, and we were dealing with the paranormal. Not an appropriate place for a child. “Why do you ask”? Jenny inquired. I explained the cry I heard. She told me that was very strange. “What is interesting about the room you were in; it’s directly above the kindergarten room, and in the kindergarten room, there is a separate room where children were brought to be punished when they stepped out of line.”

The punishment? According to Jenny—the paddle.

I eventually played the audio for Mr. Hansen who requested a copy that he could use for future lectures.

Did more than just the two children known to have died there, die in that building as Justin Chase Mullins saw when he read the building? Did those beds from the Lemp Mansion bring the spirits of souls who had died by some means in that mansion? Were dark forces brought to the First Ward because of bad things that happened there? Were the spirits in the residence buried at one of the nearby cemeteries just a mile up the way, who roamed until they found a place to stay in this schoolhouse? Perhaps these are souls in purgatory, attached to the building in death that they had an emotional attachment to in life.

Many questions remained except one. The one question I had answered was this; was the First Ward Schoolhouse in Wisconsin Rapids, Wisconsin, truly haunted? The answer I found there was yes. Yes, it most certainly was. I hope to one day return to find answers to the other questions I still have about those spirits. Judy, Heather, and Justin have quite a lot to contend with at the First Ward Schoolhouse—one of the more haunted places I have encountered.

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