ABOVE: Centralia "mine fire" was a media-trumped fraud used to drive residents off the land above largest, purest anthracite coal deposits. See cogent, detailed youtubes below by 2014 congressional candidate Andy Ostrowski (prior to his apparent poisoning). eastghost.com members Kimness, Desirae and Roxie in Centralia, PA on 17 Jun 2006 well before it became "grafitti highway".

Andy Ostrowski discusses Centralia, PA (part 1)

"What happened in Centralia was basically a fraud...billions of dollars worth of coal run right under [the expunged town]. And, as you see, there is no evidence of any fire anywhere; twenty years ago [the media hype] created an image that we would be standing in the middle of a raging inferno right now...no noxious fumes, no foliage problem, this is where we're standing right now, it used to be an active, thriving burrough of about 1,100 central Pennsylvania residents." -- Andy Ostrowski, 3:35 into part 1

Andy Ostrowski discusses Centralia, PA (part 2)

"We are standing on top of one of the richest anthracite coal veins in the world." -- Andy Ostrowski, 5:00 into part 2

"No one has ever taken an oath and sworn in a public forum as to what really happened here [in Centralia]. And that [oath/swearing] has to happen." -- Andy Ostrowski, 6:30 into part 2 -- not long after this interview, Andy "went crazy" (see his later youtubes), indicating to suspicious minds yet another poisoning, this one ostensibly to silence an amiable political candidate making bold claims and wielding means to cause legal action.

Andy Ostrowski discusses Centralia, PA (part 3)

"People want to paint this as a 'conspiracy theory' ... understand what your government is capable of doing to you ... the evidence is there for everybody to see." -- Andy Ostrowski, 1:25 into part 3

Huge wealth, buried. Crooked politicians. Big Gov. Injustice. Eminent domain. Complicit media. Crisis actors (e.g., where is that "Todd Doboski" nitwit kid who supposedly fell into the Hell-firey hole?). Hollywood off-shoot. Suspected link to sci-mil-spooky "Minos Project" involving underground / thru-Earth High-Energy Particle Physics and the Directed Energy Weapons at Fermilab and Brookhaven National Lab (BNL). Lies, deceptions, fraud, theft, history, upset, anger, strife, military, cutting-edge science and secret weaponry, this long-simmering fiasco has it all...and none of this paranormality appears elsewhere.

Hosted by M.A.P.I., Sep 2019.

Several teams attended in 3 groups: inside the Main House, inside the Summer House, outside on the grounds.

Approximately 10:30pm: Interesting, the colorful stationary "orbs" hovering near Liz and Cliff, southeast of Main House, despite no flash with only ambient lighting during long exposure. Numerous reports include communications with young aethereal prankster "Jacob" and sightings of shadow apparitions and the "little girl upstairs".

Gauss meter response, quiet at around 0.1 Gs for most of the night in the Main House, agitated and skyrocketed up to 13 Gs during our singing of Civil War era songs in the Summer House. Meter sat stationary. We took notice: "It was as if ghosts were dancing or whirling about unseen right in front of us."

Liz' copper divining rods were active as usual and responding promptly and clearly to questions posed; copper rods in a sanitized, human-removed apparatus did not respond to any prompting. LASER shadowing, animal boobytraps, and other meters and apparatii went silent/unaffected.

We welcome other investigators to login and add their findings, comments, links.

Thank you, M.A.P.I.; we had a superb time.

---

Was Edgar Allan Poesoned by Jesuits? Likely.

• Edgar Allan Poe: Renowned author whose self-proclaimed greatest, longest, final work is entitled "EUREKA"
• CRIME: EAP was mysteriously poisoned in Baltimore, Catholic stronghold of US; he died promptly, incoherent.
• MOTIVE -- EUREKA confounds if not counters the Jesuits' humanity-minimizing Cosmology of Infinitude, giving the first plainly comprehensible solution to Olbers' contradictive paradox (i.e., how the night sky is dark despite supposed infinitude of stars):

  “I design to speak of the Physical, Metaphysical and Mathematical – of the Material and Spiritual Universe – of its Essence, its Origin, its Creation, its Present Condition and its Destiny.” -- Poe, clearly, fatefully, setting himself within Jesuitical realm.

  In Eureka, Poe claimed, among other things, that the universe is finite – in 1848 a finite-aged universe was mere speculation, and adopted a more philosophical phraseology of Newton’s Law of Gravitation, claiming that gravity is nothing but the attraction of every atom to the other atoms.

  “Every atom, of every body, attracts every other atom, both of its own and of every other body, with a force which varies inversely as the squares of the distances between the attracting and attracted atom.”

  Poe also pondered the question of the Olbers’ Paradox. He suggested that the universe is not old enough to fill the sky with light. Is also endless in size; we see only a tiny part of it, and that observable part contains too few stars to fill up the sky with light. Poe knew that light moves extremely quickly but he claimed that there hasn’t been enough time for the light to reach us from farthest reaches of the universe.

  “No astronomical fallacy is more untenable, and none has been more pertinaciously adhered to, than that of the absolute illumination of the Universe of Stars. The reasons for limitation, as I have already assigned them, à priori, seem to me unanswerable; but, not to speak of these, observation assures us that there is, in numerous directions around us, certainly, if not in all, a positive limit—or, at the very least, affords us no basis whatever for thinking otherwise. Were the succession of stars endless, then the background of the sky would present us an uniform luminosity, like that displayed by the Galaxy—since there could be absolutely no point, in all that background, at which would not exist a star. The only mode, therefore, in which, under such a state of affairs, we could comprehend the voids which our telescopes find in innumerable directions, would be by supposing the distance of the invisible background so immense that no ray from it has yet been able to reach us at all. That this may be so, who shall venture to deny? I maintain, simply, that we have not even the shadow of a reason for believing that it is so.”

  source: https://athenareads.home.blog/2020/05/21/why-is-the-sky-dark-at-night/

• MEANS -- Jesuits, 'military troops of Vatican', historically known poisoners, vow to "extirpate" Protestants, Freemasons and non-Catholic heretics.
• OPPORTUNITY -- Still-touted poker-playing good friend and long-time neighbor of Jesuits.

Were these ideas alternately pre-empting and confounding the Jesuits' fledgling cosmological "psyence" silenced by poesoning?

IF NOT, THEN WHY THE CURIOUSLY LINGERING SUBTLE COVER-UP --

• Barring subterfuge dragooning secrecy, discussion and wonder concerning Poe should seemingly invite warm welcome, particularly within Poe's own house/museum; instead, side-armed U.S. National Park Service (NPS) docents at Poe's house/museum in Philadelphia resoundingly demean EUREKA, deride curiosities, scorn inquiries. Why? EAP himself named EUREKA his greatest achievement. NPS, as with all government, is thoroughly infiltrated by those inured by Jesuit influence, Vatican control, Catholic faith. Recall that all hanged conspirators in the Lincoln assassination were Catholic, and Surratt's son John fled to the Vatican for asylum, causing diplomatic break until President Reagan re-established formal relations with Vatican (ostensibly his primary service to the New World Order). Reality has generally degraded since.
• EUREKA is suspiciously absent from nearly all publications available at the Poe museum. Diabolical omission hallmarks Jesuit handywork and signals need for harsher investigation to escape mislead and mind-control.

Be wary with whom you break bread and libation. EAP himself might have lived longer per this basic axim. True Poe enthusiasts could morally do no better than to doggedly pursue the truth about his murder. Are you merely another fair-weather Poeser, or will you matter?

---

Tales, Terrors and Toxicities at Forest Glen

To celebrate this season of boo here are a few nighttime shots, exploratory notes and research findings that together weave an eerie menagerie. Below is the statue of Minerva at Forest Glen, Maryland. The aging structure is the remainder of a 'Spanish Dorm' at the northeast corner of the property. About one-half mile along Minerva's Medusa'd gaze looms the Mormon Temple.

This fascinating complex is steeped in oddity, military and medical intrigues, darkly intertwining and spanning from our nation's founding days to our present. Spooky enough all on its own, but when it's real, and militarily verifiably so, that's what really gets you ...transmogrifying mere goosebumps into palpable fear.

BELOW Statue of Minerva near remainder of Spanish Dorm

Forest Glen was a nearby escape-destination providing early Washingon, DC residents cool relief in its comparative highlands (DC was in part literally a swamp, hot, muggy, Potomac River in the summer) before it was a premiere girls' finishing school; then it became an Army convalescence home before being used for biowar research ... and then ultimately becoming an expensive housing development (!).

Concerted efforts at reclamation and historical preservation have been ongoing for many years. The property was a failed (or abandoned?) farming thing, then a failed commercial thing, then a failed educational thing, then a failed military thing, and now it's a pseudo military-commercial historical-preservation compound meets high-priced housing collective kinda thing. The depth and twists of its many at-odds juxtapositions and uncanny energies give lasting allure to all things Forest Glen.

Save Our Seminary

Also on the property is a magnificent Spanish Ballroom, an authentic Dutch windmill (sorority house), several other unusual structures, and Maryland's only real Japanese Pagoda.

BELOW Japanese Pagoda, Spanish Ballroom

BELOW Dutch Windmill Sorority House, one of the many fanciful housings for students during the finishing school era of Forest Glen.

BELOW Italian Marble Fountain, a prideful centerpiece long ago drained and silenced; recent restoration efforts have provided new hope of watery resurrection.

Bad deaths alerted by numerous seances undertaken on the property and an unshakably intertwined history of military misery and biowarfare taint the area. The same commander at Frederick Maryland's FORT DETRICK (25 miles to the northwest) is also in-charge of the adjacent Forest Glen Annex and its noxious Walter Reed Army Institute of (biowarfare) Research. By some accounts, the Army spent '7 figures' on work in the woods immediately northwest of the FGA – but exploration revealed only one of 7 bridges was shored-up, not even rebuilt; meanwhile, what are expensively out-of-place: Numerous sink-tubes, filled in, capped, yet having automatic monitoring sensors and electronics, ostensibly 'gas sniffers' but more likely having something to do with potential bio-outbreak-causing leakage from the nation's [publicly-admitted] largest germ warfare lab and production monster sitting right up the hill...

BELOW Path to Expensive Bio Sensors In The Woods Adjacent To BUILDING 503 – "The Walter Reed Army Institute of Research (WRAIR) is the largest biomedical research facility administered by the U.S. Department of Defense."

Totally coincidentally, of course, Maryland's first "outbreak" of West Nile Virus was detected in the woods immediately west of the Forest Glen Annex biowarfare production facility. This hauntingly mirrors the first detected "outbreak" of Lyme Disease in Old Lyme, Connecticut, at the very spot where the ferry landed from Plum Island, the USDA's zoonotical / tick-born disease research facility, also totally coincidental, of course, but that's a whole other intrigue – see the books HIGHER FORM OF KILLING and LAB 257. See also the godless insanity exposed by Dilyana Gaytandzhieva at the AV9 Conference, England in May 2018 ("AV9 - Pentagon Bio-weapons ... EXPOSED!").

BELOW Beta Castle at Forest Glen, sensitives routinely pick-up strong spiritual energies. Washington Post archives confirm a deadly fall from the rooftop in early 1900s. Rods, ouija and guardian-angel communications respond fervently along the path in front of the castle. Reported experiences here have included muffled voices, foreboding of anger, and "stones thrown".

BELOW What was around back in the lower floors, however, gave a totally different kind of eerie chill – animal cages, lab facilities, and what one sensitive described as "an impenetrable veil". Unclassified military records confirmed medical and biowarfare research; nearby massive BUILDING 503 biowar lab echoes these findings.

Regarding the expensive housing uncomfortably nearby, in the scheme of things DC and compared to the still-buried live World War One munitions in DC's initially-pricey Spring Valley neighborhood (on American University land once used by military for testing / proving grounds), namely Mustard, Chlorine and Phosphgene gas munitions -- "yellow cross", "green cross", and "white cross", respectively, named for the markings on the bombshell casings -- wealthy families living within eyesight (and positively within slightest-whiff distance of accidental toxin release) of the nation's largest [publicly-admitted] biowarfare lab and production facility hardly raises any dead. Yet.

Military Wiki -- Walter Reed Army Institute of [biowar] Research

Walter Reed Army Institute of Research -- This article is about the U.S. Army medical research institute (not the hospital). Otherwise, see Walter Reed (disambiguation). The Walter Reed Army Institute of Research (WRAIR) is the largest biomedical research facility administered by the U.S...

The Forest Glen area of land was originally owned by the Carroll family, of Founding Father infamy, and it was long ago a tobacco plantation. In those days, Rock Creek, which empties into Washington’s Georgetown near the first lock of the C&O Canal, was much deeper and rapidly flowing; now it is barely a trickle sans rainstorms. Tobacco was harvested and rolled down from the higher ground to the Rock Creek and then floated down to Georgetown upon shallow raft, it is said.

BELOW Moving shadows and phantamasgoric mists appear throughout the property, which is unexpectedly steeply terrain-ful with many intricate bridges, statues, constructs, stone carvings and features hidden by growth, forgotten to time.

The Carroll graves in nearby cemeteries are very interesting to visit with empaths and spiritual friends, even in the daylight but especially as dark waxes. Slave graves long ago covered over (relocated? doubt it) give credence to spine-chilling tales of hauntings, both audible and sightings all over the facilities, including inside the WRAMC Commissary and reported off-official-record by military personnel. If you can imagine "Poltergeist" happening to the military, that gets at the deeper, darker, multi-faceted soul of Forest Glen.

BELOW - Area map of Forest Glen with some highlights marked. Several residents living on the property and nearby have contacted us to confirm these findings and report other experiences. Orbful photographs and wil-o-wisps are common, along with disembodied shrieks at night not attributable to corporeal animals. It's not just 'one or two' but dozens. Over years. Claimants include well-to-do residents and active military personnel.

Regarding the endless amount of military, medical, political, and Occult weirdness that permeates DC and surroundings, you just have to know where to look and who to ask for the good stuff – and that is nearly never any 'official' sources or controlled outlets.

Visit Forest Glen sometime when you get a chance; much of it is open to the public without ID checks. Walk in the woods, bring a camera and some copper divining rods, maybe some dice, an open mind, and at least one unflappable friend of stout heart ...just be careful what you touch and even more careful about what touches you.

Be sure to login and add your pictures, findings and experiences to the organic research / findings / experiences entry on Forest Glen. Same goes for other haunts and attractions collected in our gargantuan haunts database.

---

SPIRITS AT THE BEND: Thistle Millworks at Ilchester, Md.

Pictures and Experience by Michael

BELOW: Southern end of the plant, at the sharp bend in the Patapsco River behind camera. The burned out and dysfunctional Simkins Plant, latest working occupant of the Thistle Mill complex, is being slowly dismantled, discarded and removed.

“Three deaths here? Yeah, easy. Probably. Defnitely. This place is over one-hundred years old. There’s a lot of heavy machinery and many places to get hurt. Three deaths in one-hundred years is probably an understatement.” That’s one thing our helpful guide had to say about the deaths, injuries and reported hauntings at Simkins Industries Paper Mill http:// eastghost.com/haunt/775/ near old “Hell House” at the sharp bend of the Patapsco River, on River Road in Ilchester, Maryland. The older parts of the plant --the mill onto which the plant was later grafted-- date back to the 1700’s and are over 200 years old.

While our guide had not directly had any “substantially haunted” experiences to speak of, at least one other visitor had, in summertime 2006, suddenly become so “scared and totally creeped out” that he left in quite a rush, abandoning his work and belongings. This has happened several times. Sulky has reported ongoing paranormal experiences, research and subsequent validation of certain facts that would corroborate ghostly experiences.

For my part, while I was down below, between the buildings at the Patapsco River, over the swooshing sound of water endlessly smoothing rocks and the nearby control dam, and the audibly electrifying hum of high voltage transformers, coming from deep within the old plant (and seemingly underground) I heard about one dozen earth-shaking booms, ominous thuds of heavy machinery solidly hitting Earth-coupled surfaces, as well as metal clanking and moving about --it sounded maybe two hammer blows short of the plant being in full operation. Only...no one was working inside. The thuds were powerful and dreadful, and they unmistakably resembled the thuds that Sulky had reported hearing and feeling months earlier (see following report).

BELOW: the “bugs bunny” fire hydrant.

Kimness, up above on the roadway and hillside, heard none of this. Her main concern was taking pictures while avoiding daring cars whizzing by on the quite narrow and twisty River Road.

Knowing what was happening to me within the highenergy electromagnetic feld of the humming transformers, I felt mighty uncomfortable and wanted right away to get further away, out of the magnetic feld, to basal safety. Instead, I set to it and simply walked by the facility, taking pictures all the way. Happily abiding my one stern warning against entering the buildings, I did however get some shots through numerous cracks and open doors.

BELOW: Southern entrance and drive way along the Patapsco River, to frame left.

There were quite clearly within many places to get mangled, deformed, maimed and otherwise seriously harmed. There is nothing nice or forgiving about this place. It made me think of a sleeping but malevolent mechanical giant, still somehow strangely noisy even in awkward, abandoned rest, like an old missile silo, seemingly ready to wake up and swing into action at a moment’s notice, or at least exuding that precipitous aura.

BELOW: Thistle Mill, in better days, circa 1890, Baltimore Historical Society.

The air carries that same Patapsco smell, not necessarily stale but defnitely old and heavy (Day and Night at the Good Church and the Bad Church http://eastghost.com/post/35075). All along the length of the plant, the Earth itself reeks of heavy industrial oil and solvents.

A slip in the mud here would probably leave a remarkably persistent rash and stain and maybe even a chemical burn. There is a large cauldron of badness --tens of thousands of gallons of liquid capacity-- slowly rusting away, no doubt once housing the high-molar solution that unpleasantly decomposed stuff or acted as a reagent in some desired but unnatural process. A thin but apparently deep waterway or canal, impossibly crammed between the older part of the mill and the too nearby River Road, is criss-crossed by a grated steel catwalk that was too shaky to dare. Who knows if it’s even water in the canal.

BELOW: North end of old southern mill building. Notice juxtaposition of original masonry and later additions including gate, fre hydrant, cement blocks.

I heard several dozen dull screams coming from just beyond, or possibly inside, a small wooden shanty-looking thing barely standing several dozen yards further north than I was willing to tread. It was defnitely some mammal; I’m not ruling out human, though possibly a prank. Several times in the Patapsco River valley I’ve had the very uncanny feeling of not being alone, of just barely hearing and/or seeing things not quite possible to clearly make out or identify one way or the other --was that a person screaming for help or calling out to a friend, or was it a fox or bird or cat or something, or was it just nothing, or really something worse?

BELOW: Pipe support catwalk carried energy.

I also thought I’d glimpsed a few “flashes,” unexpected because everywhere nearby, given a long enough glance, was clearly deserted, except for the few cars flying by on the road above, out of earshot and almost out of sight. It’s the frequent but fleeting “whatwas-that?!” glimpses that getcha.

At the furthest-north end of the “mill complex” is a rotting wooden shack that exudes red light. Maybe it’s a cue to stay away; maybe it’s for the fre department should the hulk spontaneously reignite itself. I did not approach its slightly-ajar door. In any case, fre clearly can not kill or reclaim this place; there is too much stone and metal here, too many chemicals, too much history, maybe too many spirits.

BELOW: Oil-fred power plant, directly across Patapsco River and pipe support catwalk.

The tall, original mill structure has various windows, mostly with broken-out panes. Severals sets of stairs and ladders climb at weird angles and unlikely bends. The whole thing is hodge-podge, you can tell, built and twisted as needed over too many years.

BELOW: A glimpse inside the machine shop. Notice the unprotected nature of the chains, pulleys and heavy machinery. Not a safe looking place to work. This area felt the most repulsive to me.

There are apparently one and one-half “floors” in the long, triangularly-tipped “sawtooth” buildings to the south (what purpose does that roof serve, anyway?); three floors in most of the mid-section; and probably at least fve floors in the tallest portions furthest north. It’s unclear what’s rotted away, but I’d bet, given all the broken windows, that it’s treacherous inside. There is something under the loading dock at the machine room. It hisses just above the whisper of the river.

BELOW: A peek inside the machine room. An oppressive feeling came from the machine shop, to the left out of frame.

There were no cats or birds or wildlife of any kind that I could hear, see or otherwise sense. Except for the tired settling sounds of the buildings, the spooky electromechanical hum, and the burbling of the river water, it was spooky-quiet.

Water still runs in a steady, silent trickle from a frehose connector, the one of three without long-ago crinkled hoses that run off to nowhere.

BELOW: Loading dock at machine shop building.

It’s strange to see the obviously very old stonework of the original mill buildings patched with modern brickwork and cinder-block build-ins covering over old openings. It’s sad, in a way, how the still-beautiful build quality of the historical mill was architecturally defaced decades ago. They defnitely do not build them like that anymore. To the real craftsmanship, the unwelcome additions look as cheap as grey bondo on a jet-black Mercedes.

BELOW: Closer look into machine room.

A bright-red fire hydrant is here, tucked half-underneath the mill and built-around in a way somewhat reminiscent of that Bugs Bunny episode in which the tall offce building was built with a small semi-circle all up its length, above the rabbit hole. I wonder why they didn’t just move the dang waterpipe and not cut away the mill’s massive foundation!?

BELOW: Peculiar, hallmark rooftop, from River Road.

A fire extinguisher sits out in the middle of the muddy dirt passage that’s barely wide enough for two eighteen-wheelers inched side-by-side. Old wood. Old nails. Old pipes. Pulleys and girders and chains and everywhere jagged steely things. An angry, old blue industrial water pump sits with its chrome-shiny but malicious looking screw-blade propeller still attached to strong but stained stainless-steel pipe. I wonder if mashed paper pulp sludge once flowed inside; the mill was apparently, in its fnal life, used for paper recycling. Yuck.

BELOW: Looking north along the entrance driveway.

I had a strange feeling (both times that I passed it) of uneasiness, like I was being watched, from within the garage. Maybe it was just heebies from the way that, despite its totally open doors, the blackness abruptly flled the cavernous interior like tar. Photonegative shots of the interior didn’t reveal anything strange, though it sure felt unwholesome there. I’m glad that feeling stayed in the garage.

BELOW: Simkins Paper Mill, at the site of the old Thistle Mill, sometime in early Spring, 2006, as seen from several locations along River Rd. Picture courtesy of SolarAngel.

The river banks have been fortifed by cement-lattice work on both sides. The river is probably about 50 feet wide here and only a few feet deep at most. However, the banks are maybe ten feet down to the waterline. There is a depth stick for measuring floodwaters, and “15 feet” was marked slightly below my eye level. The stick was gunky-dirty-wet, like it was not so long ago wholly submerged. Just across the river and up are the train tracks, and above them is the former site of “Hell House,” old St. Mary’s College at Ilchester.

BELOW: Simkins Paper Mill, at the site of the old Thistle Mill, sometime in early Spring, 2006, as seen from several locations along River Rd. Picture courtesy of SolarAngel.

I got a very unusual picture of the building across the river. It was getting dark, I was shooting handheld, and somehow I managed a shot in which the foreground is in focus but the motionless background is motion blurred. Weird, but there it is.

The plant is possibly being disassembled, piece by piece. There are half-a-dozen large dumpsters, halffull with all sorts of pipes and gizmos and chunks of machinery. Hopefully the mill will be saved as an historically signifcant site.

BELOW: Simkins Paper Mill, at the site of the old Thistle Mill, sometime in early Spring, 2006, as seen from several locations along River Rd. Picture courtesy of SolarAngel.

About half-way down the length of the buildings, a ricketylooking steel tram- or walkway crosses from the mill rooftop over the river and to another building on the far side that looks like an enlarged m a c h i n e g u n bunker. The bridge formed a sort of invisible boundary; I didn’t like crossing under it, so many dozens of feet overhead --it made me feel like a black cat slyly crossing under a ladder, half-expecting for the inevitable worst. Maybe this “bunker” was to keep the workers in line, inahling fumes and toiling away! Probably it’s just an extension of the processing plant. Numerous large signs warn of possible hearing damage; blindness from regarding ultraviolet arc welders, and the ever-present dangers of forgetfulness. A misstep could literally be deadly.

BELOW: Simkins Paper Mill, at the site of the old Thistle Mill, sometime in early Spring, 2006, as seen from several locations along River Rd. Picture courtesy of SolarAngel.

It’s an effective choice of words: I kept thinking about the “life changing accidents” that Sulky mentioned in his research. This isn’t some collection of workshop bandsaws; machinery herein is as heavy-duty as heavy-duty comes. Even keeping myself safely several feet outside the buildings and the realm of the dormant but still fearful machines, I was very aware of my every footstep and even of the dangling pullcords on my jacket. Silly, I know. But, if you’ve been around heavy equipment, you understand what I mean; there is no such thing as a second chance, and even while standing absolutely motionless you still think twice before making the slightest move. That oppressive fear of what-if literally impedes motion on a moment-by-moment basis, and it would have taken very much “getting used to,” I imagine, to have been an effective employee here, instead of a molasses-mannequin.

BELOW: Saint Mary’s College at Ilchester, popularly “Hell House,” now demolished, Gray’s Mill at bottom right, and Thistle Mill at bottom center.

“Extreme” might describe the pain of being crushed to death between a 3,000-pound roll of paper and ‘a machine known as a rewinder,’ especially if it was operating. Mill accidents must be truly terrible events, life changing even to those who survive in witness. I wondered what would actually happen if someone’s loose scarf got wound up in the belt of a car engine’s alternator; clearly it would violently jerk the entire torso down, but would the result be immediate decapitation, or would the scarf somehow rip frst? You know the engine would not stop. It’s thoughts and echoes of that same kind that I sensed most here.

BELOW: Idyllic view of railroad bridge and Patapsco River, just after the bend and downriver from Thistle Mill. Notice exaggerated features and perspective. Picture courtesy of Sulky.

Despite the lingering smell of chemicals and fear, there is a peculiar draw to this area. The sharp 90-degree bend of the Patapsco River here in Ilchester, once literally under the shadow of Hell House, down-river and down-hill from nearly everything, seems to be some sort of “spirit trap” that snags and holds history in a way that is unlike anywhere else.

# # #

---

THE DANCING LIGHTS: Thistle Millworks at Ilchester, Md.

Investigation and Experience by Sulky / Lon Strickler / Phantoms & Monsters Blog

BELOW: Thistle Mill, main building, in the 1940s when it was used primarily to produce “cotton duck” a heavy, plain woven cotton fabric, commonly called canvas. This was well after the mill’s heydey and in the wake of major cotton duck mill closures in Hartford, Connecticut and other areas in the north. Picture courtesy of Baltimore Historical Society.

I investigated an inquiry several years ago at the Simkins Industries, Inc. plant in Ilchester, MD. Some employees had noticed an orb of “dancing” light about 10 inches in diameter occasionally move slowly right to left along a wall in the beater room section of the plant. The sightings were usually in the early evening hours but always in the same area.

An employee and I entered the complex while the plant was down for weekend servicing. I must say that I noticed several spirits within this plant. There had been some deaths (natural and accidental) in the plant and some were evident, in particular an older man who insisted on following us around. His presence was very strong and somewhat disturbing since my feeling was that his death came at his own hand. The name I sensed was “Buzzard” are something similar. I don’t know if it was a nickname or his actual surname in life. We reached the area of the orb sighting and I noticed immediately that the temperature had dropped quickly and remained colder than the surrounding area the entire time I was there.

My perception was that of a man who has died in a piece of machinery (bottomliner pulper) many years before. The name that I sensed was “James” and that he seemed to be in his 30’s. I never witnessed the orb, but I am sure that this was his spirit energy. I attempted to contact “James” through my spiritual guide and seemed to have made some impact. My subsequent inquiry a year or so later with those employees who made the original inquiry concluded that the orb had not been seen and/or reported since.

# # #

---

THISTLE MILL FINDINGS: Thistle Millworks at Ilchester, Md.

Investigation and Experience by Sulky / Lon Strickler / Phantoms & Monsters Blog

BELOW: Gray’s Mill, a contemporary of Thistle Mill, a few thousand feet upriver, has an intertwined and equally interesting history, complete with hauntings and recent investigation, to be covered in a later edition of EGQ.

On Thursday, April 6th, 2006, I assembled a small team to investigate the recent paranormal activity at the Simkins Industries plant located in Ilchester, MD. The plant is located on the Baltimore County side of the Patapsco River at River Rd. near Hilltop Rd. There are remnants of the Ilchester mid-1800’s village still standing, but all the houses are now boarded up. The plant is also deserted due to a major fre on the top level in 2003.

I had received several inquiries from people who had recently been on the property as well as a few queries from former employees. There have been various incidents and reports of phenomena mainly strange lights and sounds. To our knowledge, no other investigations had been made in the plant since it was closed. For the record, we had investigated some paranormal activity in the plant in the early 1990’s and I have reported this previously.

The team consisted of my assistant Cory and two former employees of the plant, Keith andJerry. I brought along 2 digital cameras, 2 EMF meters, a pair of 2-way radios and a laser thermometer. We were able to work our way into the plant through a dock entrance and descended 2 stories into the main beater room area. Because Keith and Jerry knew their way around, I had Cory and Jerry start the investigation to get some baseline EMF readings at various locations throughout the plant and to record any activity. All the power was off in the plant, so I was hoping for solid electro-magnetic readings. I decided to stay in the main beater room area with Keith mainly because I had recent physical limitations that made standing and walking for a sustained period of time impossible. I fgured if Cory found anything, she’d give me a call and Keith could direct me to the area. Before we began, I asked Keith and Jerry not to mention any specifc deaths or injuries that had occurred in the plant. This plant has a long history and reputation for many horrifc work related casualties.

Not too long after we started to look around, I noticed that the images on the digital cameras were not developing though the register on the card indicated that images were there. There was full power in the cameras and the cards were fne, but no images were coming on the screen. That was truly strange because I had never experienced that before and for this to occur with both cameras was very unusual.

Everything was fairly quiet for about 2 hours. I called Cory and she said that nothing remarkable had happened other than she received 1 major EM spike in the machine room dry end and that they were going to walk back to our location. A few minutes later Cory and Jerry returned. Jerry commented that it was very strange that he had not seen or heard any cats in any part of the plant. He stated that the plant was always inundated with cats for the many years he had worked there. Keith stated that he had also noticed it and thought it was very strange. Frankly, up to that time it was eerily quiet. We sat together for about an hour going over her notes and planning out our next moves.

By this time, it was 11:15 pm and we decided to start walking to a few areas that Cory had suggested. We went through an area that I was familiar with from my initial investigation but, strangely, I felt nothing. We continued to walk until we reached the former maintenance department. I started to get a feeling of dread and nausea as well as tightness on my chest. Cory also stated she felt a bit weird. After a few minutes, I asked Cory where she had recorded the EM spike. She said on the floor below by a machine called a rewinder in the machine room dry end.

We walked down the stairs and entered into the main part of the plant. As soon as I walked through the wide doorway, I felt like something pushed me in the chest… I literally backed up and tried to regain my breath. A few seconds later, we heard a loud thud sound. Each of us looked around not knowing where the sound came from. It seemed to me that something large had hit the floor but the sound was tempered as if it was in a tunnel. My feeling was that something catastrophic had happened here...the residual energies were coming at me from all directions. Cory was getting erratic EM readings stronger than those she had recorded earlier. I tried to endure the bombardment of energies I was experiencing, but it was getting very hard to deal with. I needed to get out of that area as soon as possible so I could gather my thoughts. I turned around and walked towards the warehouse area so I could sit down and rest. The others soon followed and we took a break.

I asked Jerry to confrm if someone had died in that area, but I didn’t want a name or know how it happened. He stated that at least 2 employees had lost their lives in that specifc area but he was unaware of their names since the deaths occurred before he started employment. Keith confrmed the deaths but he also had no idea of the circumstances or names…only third party information he had heard. I was determined to go back into the machine room and see if I could sense anything from the spirits residing there.

After a bit of a rest, Cory and I walked back into the machine room. As before, I felt pressure on my chest but not to the degree I experience previously. Cory and I held hands and I attempted to contact at least one of these spirits. I immediately felt pain and sorrow…like my life force was draining out of me and I couldn’t stop the inevitable. Then I heard the name “Russell”. It was obvious that this was the person who had been haunting here. I tried to communicate but the sorrow and grieve this spirit was projecting was as intense as I have ever felt. I fear he will remain on this plane and refuse to ever move on.

I decided that I was done here and that we should check out a few other locations within the mill. We spent another 2 hours in the plant taking EM readings and recording some history of the mill from Keith and Jerry. I asked Jerry if he could put me in contact with a former employee who could tell me about any of the people who had died in the plant.

That Sunday, I interviewed a gentleman who wanted to remain anonymous. He had retired from the Simkins plant in the mid-1980’s and had started there when Bartgis Brothers had owned the mill. He confrmed that an employee by the name of Russell Calimer was killed in the machine room in 1977 after a 1-1/2 ton roll of paperboard had slipped off a forklift and crushed him to death against the rewinder. But, I was stunned by the information that was to follow. The employee who attempted to load the paperboard roll and allowed it to slip off was a man by the name of Robert Buzzard. If you read my initial investigation at the Simkins plant, you would recognize that name. I had felt a presence of a spirit who called himself “buzzard”. I had no idea at that time that this was an actual name. As well, I had this feeling that “buzzard” had died by his own hand. It was confrmed that Mr. Buzzard had become so distressed after the accident he decided to retire. Less than a year later, “buzzard” had indeed committed suicide.

I think the plant is worthy of further investigation, but I have a bad feeling about some of the spirits that are there. There are, of course, many residual hauntings (ghosts)....but there may be at least one vortex there and I didn’t like what I was feeling especially in the machine room. For the record, there have been 4 deaths in the plant since 1971....3 in the machine room. As well, there have been several major life altering injuries.

I have a suspicion that someone tried to perform a halfhearted seance or used a Ouiji board in the plant since it closed. There have been all kinds of people hanging around there and the sense I get is that a spirit with some relatively heavy duty malevolence and lingering hatred is moving in and out of a vortex (I was unable to locate a vortex....possible that it was closed when we were there).

The “Russell” spirit we did encounter is a strong one but with a lot of sadness and acts like it is looking for something. We tried to “move it along” but I don’t think we were very successful.

# # #