He's Still With Us (Spring 2022)

In 2015, my mom was diagnosed with Stage 3-4 ovarian cancer (her different doctors gave different stages). She went into remission after the initial diagnosis and was about to meet her five year clear when the cancer made a return visit on her heart. This time it was no longer a case of fighting to be rid of the cancer because of the type that it is, and instead it was about keeping it at bay and staving off the unfortunate inevitable. As of the writing of this entry, she is still with us, struggling to maintain her preferred quality of life, but fighting like a champ. 

During a visit a few months ago, my mom gave me a new set of divining rods, because one rod from my original pair had been missing for some time. Upon delivering this new gift to me, she presented a personal request. She asked me to perform a question session with any spirits that may be in the house. Not only ask the questions, but she told me to stand in the spot where my father passed away. She said that spot felt like it had energy in it and I would be more likely to get answers. 

So I stood in the spot and started asking questions and I immediately got responses. It was my Grandpa Fritz again. I knew it immediately, just as surely as I knew I was wearing glasses. 

I told my mom that Grandpa Fritz was here answering her questions. She asked if he would be there for her when the time comes and he said he would be. She asked about my dad-- if he was there. Grandpa Fritz said he was near, but that he wasn't directly with us. I asked a few more smaller questions that I can't seem to remember, but I was becoming so overwhelmed with the energy exchange with this encounter and the fluctuating goosebumps that I had to say I needed to stop and step away. During the conversation I was using my mental connection to allow Grandpa Fritz to share with me more thorough answers so that I could explain his simple answers better to my mom. Doing that, though, was draining me, especially since my personal energy stores were low.

What I didn't share at the time, but did later on, was that I saw my dad in my mind. A large white tunnel, like at the beginning of a Bond movie, had my dad's outline standing at the end of it and he was trying to walk down it. He was trying to come to be here for my mom. That is what all the feels gave me while I was trying to commune with the other side.

This realization, that my dad was accessible, would lead to something I haven't had happen in over a decade, but that is another entry for later on, as it really shook me something fierce.

Another visit, but more recently (June 2-3, 2022), I intentionally went down to my mom's place to talk to the spirits in her house. I had just gotten a REM-Pod for Mother's Day and I was really excited to use it in a location where I knew there were spirits. My daughter also was interested in spirits and ghost hunting, so I thought this would be a good opportunity for her to see what we do and I knew the spirits in the house were friendly.

That evening, while the dying light of the day still filtered into the basement from outside, we took my daughter down to talk to her Grandpa Fritz. I went down before everyone so that I could get a feel for the place. I got a brief chill up my spine and knew he was there. Then I went about setting up the REM-Pod in the sitting area by the fireplace (the space where he has passed away). 

I started out with casual conversation with my daughter. My husband and I taught her how to introduce herself to any spirits that might be present. We talked about some of the items in the basement that were collectibles from my Grandpa Fritz, like the bottle of salt from the Great Salt Lake in Utah. I felt him with us, but the REM-Pod wasn't going off. My daughter said she saw something block out the light on the VCR (yes... it's an actual VCR still in our basement). 

We sat there for a while, but nothing happened. I didn't want to break out other equipment at the time. So we took the REM-Pod to the bathroom, which had been remodeled recently, and I thought for sure that we would get some action. We stood in the large bathroom, with the door closed, and started asking questions. Instead of the REM-Pod sounding at all, I felt someone behind me, almost touching my spine and my daughter swears she was getting the creeps from behind her. Something was with us in the dark, but it wasn't interacting with the REM-Pod.

Our little crew left the bathroom and we went into the bar area where there are also glass patio doors leading to the outside. The outside light was still there and it would make it easier for my daughter to see the divining rods once I broke them out. But we started with the REM-Pod on the bar. And I'm sure you guessed it, we got nothing from the REM-Pod. 

On the REM-Pod is a temperature gauge and I decided to turn it on. Slowly the temperature started to crawl up, meaning it was getting warmer. I got out my rods and was getting ready to ask questions as the temperature continued to climb. I had a moment where I thought "he's making the temperature climb, because he doesn't like cold spaces." When I asked the question aloud, I got a positive response. He also confirmed that he didn't want to use the REM-Pod and it was him in the bathroom behind us. 

The group of us exchanged some pleasant queries with Grandpa Fritz and then it was time to move on to our other locations. I wasn't sure how the other two locations would pan out, so I didn't want to exhaust Grandpa Fritz in case he wanted to talk to my mom. I felt, though, that his energy was a bit lower than during our previous encounter. This was just a feeling or a guess... or a thought that was marching through my mind. But it also felt right.

After the basement, we then moved to the living room and put up the REM-Pod to see if someone else would participate and this way my mom could participate as well. She was sitting in the living room with her heating pads and reclining chair. I let her lead the investigation with the REM-Pod, but we received no responses.

I went upstairs alone and put the REM-Pod in my mom's bedroom on the spot where my father passed away and started asking questions. Again there was nothing happening and I left the room, probably more quickly than I should have, but I was somewhat frustrated with the events of the evening. I had really wanted my REM-Pod to work and, upon further reflection, I wasn't being sensitive to the needs of the spirits in the house. This thought was punctuated by a large bang in my bedroom as I was watching some TV and settling in for bed. I'll return to this situation in a future entry, as I believe I've come to understand the root of that matter.

The next morning, my daughter and I went back into the basement and I gave her the divining rods to try to use. I called out to my Grandpa Fritz, "Hi. We're back down here, because my daughter wants to learn to use these rods and I thought you'd be able to help her learn how they work." He crossed the rods. Then I asked, "Have you met her?" (She spent her first two years living in the house and visiting often since then). The rods crossed again. Right after they crossed my daughter started to try to debunk her own experience, even though we both watched it happen and her hands did not make it move. She struggles with experiences, because she is too quick to say it was something else. She self-doubts a lot. My husband and I believe her debunking might also be related to how we helped her deal with strange things she saw when she was little --to look for a logical reason why something might have happened. She's 11 --almost-12-years-old, so I can understand the self-doubt she feels about things. I'm trying to build her confidence, because I've noticed she may possess a special gift, too.

So my daughter gave me the divining rods and I decided to ask just some general questions that my mom had asked the night before and didn't get a response for.

"My mom wanted to know some things from you last night. Did you see the spirit of Jonesy (our cat) when he passed?" - No cross.

"Have you seen Grandma Clara since she passed over? Anywhere on the other side?" - The rods started to cross and stopped right after the very tips crossed. I had a feeling of "I don't know" pass through my mind and I said it aloud so that he could hear.

"Do you mostly stay down here?" - Cross/Yes.

"Are you here to help take care of mom?" - Cross/Yes.

"Is dad here?" -Cross/Yes.

"Does he mostly stay upstairs?" - Cross/Yes.

"Thank you, Grandpa Fritz. We'll be back to visit and I'm glad to know you got to meet your great granddaughter. Thank you for being here for mom."

My daughter and I gathered up our things and went back upstairs. I shared with my mom what happened.

Grandpa Fritz is still with us. His energy isn't as strong as it used to be, but I can still feel him around and I hope he's doing what feels right for him on the other side. 

Next Up on My Ghost Stories: A Spooky Trip to Savannah, Georgia.

My Childhood Home & Grandpa Fritz (July 2005)

In 1992, when I was 11 years old, my Grandpa Fritz moved in with us. He had been diagnosed with cancer of the mouth and throat. The operation that he had to remove the cancer left him struggling to talk and a tube had been placed in his throat. My parents turned our converted basement into a bedroom for him, giving him access to a personal bathroom for himself and just general privacy. In order to communicate with Grandpa Fritz, he had to write on a notepad. I was only a child at the time and while I understood what was going on, it was still confusing and sometimes scary. 

In the spring of 1993, Grandpa Fritz's cancer came back in his throat and closed off his windpipe. He passed away in his sleep in that basement.

In 2004, my brother moved back in with our parents following his departure from the military. I had already moved away to live in North Carolina with my husband in his home state. It was my brother who was the first to notice strange activity in the house. It all started with a faucet.

A sink faucet turned on by itself.

I should probably preface the remainder of this entry by saying that I am very comfortable with debunking and looking for more rational explanations before jumping on the paranormal bandwagon. I was familiar with Ghost Hunters at the time. They had just started airing the year prior on television. Being plumbers, they always made a huge deal about faucets and all things plumbing. I think it actually created a sense of dismissal in the paranormal community of faucets turning on by themselves. That's not to say that Ghost Hunters dismissed it, but it just sort of felt like a common story that became oft dismissed because the guys from TAPS were able to provide some mechanical explanations to why this circumstance might occur. In this situation, know that frequent attempts by the inhabitants of our home were made to rectify the faucet issue. It persisted nonetheless.

My brother's first problem faucet was in the bathroom upstairs that is attached to his room. The bathroom has two sinks and two faucets, but only his turned on. After this instance, other faucets occasionally started turning on throughout the house, from the kitchen to other bathrooms.

What also started happening around this time is what some would refer to as poltergeist activity. As my brother tells it, things in his room would fly around and it would be really cold. His cell phone would turn on in front of him, even though it was turned off entirely. I was not there to verify these claims, so I have no problem recommending a grain of salt be taken with these stories.

However, there may be veracity to the claims. As my mom recounts things, she and my father would be sitting in the living room and would hear loud and inexplicable thumps, like stomping, coming from upstairs in my brother's room. The sounds would be heard through the ceiling in the living room. Then they would realize that my brother wasn't home and wondered who or what was making all that noise.

Additionally, since the first occurence of the faucet turning on, my mom would keep me updated on the strange goings-on in the house when we would talk on the phone. I didn't keep track of all of these times, but it was quite a few. She told me that my dad, who was a handyman among other talents, had checked out the sinks to make sure the faucet knobs were tight and he even replaced one he found suspect. This did not stop the activity. They blamed one of our cats at one point for the kitchen faucet, but after finding snapped rubber-bands that had been securing the position of faucet knobs over and over again, deduced it was something more powerful than a nudge from the cat.

Fast forward to July 2005. My brother was no longer living with my parents. He found himself in legal trouble and was residing in designated lodgings. I had returned home for my grandma's 80th birthday and to spend some time in Wisconsin with my family. I was wiling away the late afternoon with my mom while she finished off some work she had. We were in her bedroom in a private corner of the large room that my mom used for her office. Talk had come up about all of the faucet shenanigans and other activity. I asked her if the faucets had been acting up while we were in New Orleans and she said that no activity had been reported by my dad. 

My mom pontificated what could be going on and I said, quite matter-of-factly as I recall, "It's Grandpa Fritz." I was very adamant about it and right after I made the statement the faucet of the bathroom tub turned on full blast, as if punctuating and confirming my statement. I could see straight into the bathroom from where I was sitting and watched the water turn on full blast. I was stunned.

I called to my husband who joined us within seconds and saw the water blasting. My mom was speechless and actually stopped what she was doing. Then she said, "How do you know that?"

I said, "Because you once told me you knew Grandpa Fritz was awake at night because you could hear the water running in the basement."

"I didn't tell you that," she responded.  Now, to be fair, my mother and I frequently lock horns on the subject of things-said-and-unsaid. However, despite my current belief in some level of psychic sensitivity I may possess, the fact was I had no other source where I can say I got that tidbit of information from at that time. 

It was, in fact, a true statement that my mother thought she hadn't shared with me. And Grandpa Fritz was on our minds, because of the experiences we had in New Orleans. So if he hadn't been active in my mom's house while she was gone, but was active now that she was back, maybe it meant that he was trying to get her attention for some reason.

Having this new knowledge opened up a discussion about the activity. Why would it happen to my brother and then transfer over to mom. I brought up what the guy at the ghost hunt said about activity ramping up due to something big coming. I thought that maybe Grandpa Fritz was trying to warn her about the trouble my brother was about to get into. 

Later that night, I was lying in bed and I felt like something was in the room with me. Against my better judgement, I asked if there was something in the room and, if so, if it could touch my arm. All of a sudden I felt a cold grasp on my arm and I knew, through and through, that it was Grandpa Fritz. It felt heavy, almost like something was holding my arm down and it tingled with goosebumps. 

After locking up with emotion and attempting to process what just happened, I got out of bed and went down to my parents room and immediately told my mom that Grandpa Fritz grabbed my arm. I think she was still a bit skeptical of the realizations of the day and didn't really engage with me over the situation. I, though, had to make my way back to my bedroom and go to bed with the knowledge that something unseen could be watching me while I sleep.

A few days later, after processing everything that had happened, I was home alone and decided to talk to him. I had long harbored childhood guilt about the New Years Eve before his passing when I yelled at him in anger. It was typical dumb tween stuff. I was blasting my music and dancing around and turned around to see he had dared to enter my room and ask me to turn down my music. The truth is he had startled me and my outburst was borne of fear and embarrassment. I carried that guilt with me for so long, though, because the incident occurred not long before he left us and I felt I had been so mean to him over nothing.  The memory had gnawed at me for years. 

So, that day in 2005, alone in my parent's house, I loudly called out to him and apologized for what I had done. As I did this, I felt a soothing relief wash other me and I knew that I had been forgiven for my actions. 

Faucet activity and other things stopped almost immediately after that day. But this isn't the last time I'll interact with Grandpa Fritz and it won't be the last time I experience activity at my childhood home.

Next Up on My Ghost Stories: Grandpa Fritz now. 

New Orleans Vacation (June 2005)

Towards of the end of June in 2005 my mother and I took a little trip down to New Orleans, Louisiana. This trip was really special for my mom, because when she was a young woman, she took a trip to New Orleans with her father who passed away in 1993. She wanted to experience certain things again and do some things that she never got to do the first time around. I wanted to go just because I love traveling and had never been to this legendary destination. 

My mom left the planning of the trip to me. This was really one of the first trips I planned on my own, still in my early 20s at the time. I wasn't sure what all to do at first and there was a veritable panoply of options for tourists from tour buses to guided walks and the like. As it turns out, though, and as I have learned over the years with other trips I have arranged, I have a certain knack for travel-planning and I just relied on instincts or gut feeling to choose our various destinations and activities. 

We went to the Destrehan Plantation where some scenes from Interview with the Vampire were filmed. We sampled the delights of the Cafe du Monde. We even fit in a cemetery tour at the Saint Louis Cemetery No. 1. Most of what we did kept us in the French Quarter. But the places above did not solidify the creepy memories of this much adored city of like three other locations did.

My first paranormal experience occurred at the hotel we were staying at: the Alexa Hotel - now permanently closed. This happened our first night in the hotel. I awoke in the middle of the night and saw, in the corner of the room, near the foot of my mom's bed, a full body apparition that looked surprisingly similar to my Grandpa Fritz (my mother's father who originally brought her to New Orleans). He was a very tall figure, wearing blue and white pin-striped pajamas-- the shirt open to reveal a white T-shirt. The entity had an ethereal quality to it, right down to a blue-tinted aura, yet it was solid enough to block out the lamp and chair behind it. I don't remember feeling scared, but I do remember falling back asleep quickly. There were no feelings of a threat and I didn't feel uncomfortable with having seen the spirit. I also don't know if my mind simply couldn't process the event and it retreating back to sleep was mere reflex. My Grandpa Fritz used to live with us before he passed on, so perhaps my mind even registered the incident as a mundane visit from grandpa. It's easy to dismiss the encounter as a trick of a sleep-addled mind. I know it was not, however, and future happenings would only harden my resolve as to the authenticity of moment. 

I didn't even remember the next morning to tell my mom about the incident. Maybe I was still processing. When it came up later, though, she wasn't happy that I had not immediately told her of the incident. More disappointed, than anything, that she had missed it.

I haven't forgotten this experience since and as I combed through pictures from that time, I found it interesting that the one and only picture I have of the hotel also is the one and only picture from this trip that features an orb of some sort. I, myself, am highly skeptical of "orbs" in paranormal contexts. Nevertheless, I find it an interesting coincidence. And this is what I consider my first official ghost experience, at least that I can recall. There may have been incidents in my youth, but if so, they have not remained with me. This event was perspective-altering, though. Moreso with the events that unfold for me in the summer of 2005. 

My second experience occurred while we were shopping. My mom wanted to go into a voodoo shop, so we found one to explore. Upon entering, passing through a beaded curtain at the store's threshold, I was hit with an inexplicable and gigantic wave of emotion and unease. I began to cry seemingly without reason. I told my mom I'd wait outside and when I left, I started to feel better. There was so much palpable energy in that shop that it just caught me off-guard. The shop owner said that sort of reaction did not happen often, but to those for whom it does, it means they are very sensitive people and can easily interact with the spiritual realm. That was cool to hear, though I took the comment with a grain of salt. That said, I'd been labeled as sensitive by psychics I had visited prior to this trip. This time came with a reaction I simply couldn't explain, though. I shook the event off and we continued on our day.

My final experience was at a house on the fringe of the city that was being renovated. I had wanted to do a ghost hunt and I looked through options before we arrived in the city and I settled on this location. We would get to use equipment provided by the tour company-- a new and exciting prospect for me. We were really looking forward to that night. 

There was a small group of us who showed up to poke around the property. I snapped off some pictures and followed the group, trying to feel something there. The man leading our group said activity had really picked up in the last week or so, almost as if something big was coming. What an ominous thing to say, but he talked about how sometimes paranormal activity can drastically increase before a tragedy. As we looked around, two people started to overreact to things that only they were seeing in the building. When we got to the second floor, this one girl and her boyfriend started freaking out. They'd been told that a woman had killed herself in the bathtub there and they claimed to be seeing her. According to them, there was blood everywhere, and all the other people on the tour were caught up in their experience. My mom and I took this moment to break away from the group and find our own little corner to seek out a paranormal experience. 

Together we went to the front foyer of the house and the person who was running the event gave us divining rods. I was getting goosebumps and feeling emotional again, so we started to ask questions. I'm not going to pretend to remember the questions I asked 17 years ago, but I can remember enough of the responses to say the entity we wound up communicating with was a man who was not from New Orleans. We asked the person who was running the event if there were spirits in this area who matched the information that we received and he said no. He said there was not usually any activity in the area we had been in.  We decided to leave it at that. Shortly after, we left the event and caught a cab back to our hotel.

My mother and I came to the conclusion that it was Grandpa Fritz who had followed us to the haunted house and that he was probably also the person who made me cry in the Voodoo shop. We were purely operating under intuition in that moment and using the information I had already shared about seeing Grandpa Fritz earlier. 

Overall, it was a trip that sparked a thirst for knowledge that would span the next 17 years, including more interactions with this spirit I believe to be my grandfather. It is always a place I remember, even more due to our cynical tour bus driver we had at one point. He was explaining the sites of New Orleans to us and drew our attentions to the levees. "One of these days a super storm is going to come through and break those levees and New Orleans will be leveled." Two months later, Katrina hit. The spirits had been right. Tragedy had been on the horizon.

I haven't been back to New Orleans since, but I would love to go back now with all the knowledge that I have accumulated about the paranormal. I'd like to go on some proper-- less touristy-- ghost hunts, because the prospect of what might happen if I was actually looking for something is exciting considering what I experienced in 2005 just by showing up.

Next up in My Ghost Stories: More Grandpa Fritz and activity at my mom's house.