The Sallie House Haunting: A True Story (9 page)

A few minutes later, we looked at the photo of Rodney and the baby, and saw an odd whitish fuzzy area between them. Not sure what to make of it, we decided to take another picture. Tony had managed to quiet Taylor, who was now smiling and babbling at him, so I turned toward them and snapped off the next picture. When the picture developed, the same whitish blur showed up between them. Was this Sallie? Before long, we had gone through an entire package of film.

We had several pictures of Taylor alone and in the company of at least one other person. Although it was less apparent in some of the photos, almost every one showed the same fuzzy effect. This effect also showed up when Tony and I were with the baby and in one photo of me alone. It was odd.

In one photograph of Taylor sitting alone on the couch, his left foot is raised off the couch and a small but a very apparent fuzziness can be seen just under it. His focus seems to be on something a little higher than himself and to his left. I couldn’t help but wonder if the fuzzy blur under his foot was actually Sallie’s presence. Had her hand been under his foot in an attempt to stabilize him from toppling over sideways, as he so often did at this point of his development?

Although it varied in size, density, and orientation within each photo, the blur or fuzzy area consistently showed up in many of the pictures. Although he couldn’t see one, Tony wondered if he had gotten a fingerprint smudge on the camera’s lens and this is what had appeared as the blurred effect in the developed photos.

Determined to prove his theory, he took the last two pictures of the first roll. One was of Taylor in his baby swing, and the other was a self-portrait taken at arm’s length. While those pictures developed, the rest of us again scrutinized the previous pictures. Tony was still convinced that the fuzziness was due to a faulty camera or a bad roll of film, so he opened the second package of film, loaded it into the camera, and took three more pictures.

While those photos were set aside to develop, he looked at the last two from the first roll. Neither photo showed a blur, which discounted both the idea that the film pack was bad and that there was a finger print smudge on the lens of the camera. Although the first two photos of the second roll showed no anomaly, the third picture of the second roll showed a fuzzy blur along Taylor’s backside. Out of thirteen photos taken up to this point, eight were marred by a whitish fuzzy blur, five were not. From those eight, we noticed that the blurs were very localized, leaving the rest of the picture in perfect focus. I started to refer to the blur as Sallie.

I remember things like Taylor’s disposition and who was near him at the time, and then correlate the intensity of the blur that showed up in a particular picture with what was actually taking place in the picture. It was apparent to me Sallie was more prominently visible when Taylor was upset or when she didn’t feel comfortable with the person who was holding him or anywhere near him. Another thing I noticed was the increased density of the blur in the photos of Tony and the baby and of me and the baby. In each of these photos, Taylor was being cuddled in our arms and we were looking at him in a loving way. He was perfectly content, and there was no reason for Sallie to feel the need to protect him, thus leaving me to conclude that she simply wanted to be included in the family togetherness.

Each of us took a turn at being the photographer, so it was highly unlikely that any one person was to blame for the blur in so many of the other photos. Since some of the pictures within each package of film had turned out perfectly fine, we could assume there was no defect in the film or camera. We felt there was definitely some sort of paranormal energy showing up in the pictures, and we couldn’t wait to get Barbara’s opinion.

Barbara’s Arrival

Barbara arrived about 8:30 p.m., accompanied by her sister. Before they had a chance to sit down, we asked if they had any objection to our documenting the visit with cameras. Barbara thought it was a great idea. We told her of the photos we had taken prior to her arrival and she responded, “I don’t want to see them just yet.”

I assumed that she wanted as little outside input as possible so she could interpret the situation and energy without external influence. Already extremely skeptical of psychics, I appreciated this approach to avoiding a common pitfall of “cold reading”; a method whereby psychics gain information from photos, facial expressions, voices and reactions of those they are working with. Tony, however, wasn’t yet convinced.

Barbara appeared to be preoccupied as she glanced around the living room, seemingly in a world of her own, getting a feel for whatever or whoever was there with us. It wasn’t as if she was actually looking at any “thing” in the room; in fact, as her eyes roved they never seemed to stop or focus on anything in particular or anything we could see. It seemed that she was seeing beyond our physical world, and outside the world of normal expectations. Her body language did not seem to signify a predetermined approach or prepared speech, and she didn’t ask a lot of questions that would lead her to cold read responses.

Instead, she roamed between the living and dining rooms for a few minutes, seemingly quite antsy and distracted, and then settled on the couch closest to the front door. She began telling us little things she was feeling and before we realized it, she had connected with the spirit in our house. Later, she told us how she felt when she’d first come into the house; she experienced a really heavy, smothering feeling in her chest, as if she were short of breath. She had tried to communicate to the spirit that she wasn’t there to harm her and she didn’t have to be scared. Barbara reported that the heaviness lifted and she was finally able to sit down shortly afterward.

Having never been in the same room with a psychic, I continued to take notice of how she “communicated.” I wanted to do everything possible to be sure this was the real deal and that we weren’t being played for fools to be strung along and set up for some future financial gain. Barbara sat quietly, sometimes closing her eyes or staring straight ahead, mentally trying to foster a trusting relationship and make emotional contact with Sallie. Through the contact, she would then try to understand and relay the feelings that were being conveyed. That in itself was hard to grasp, as the words she replied with were spoken in her own voice, but in the manner and language of a young child.

Then unexpectedly, Barbara asked, “Does anyone have a toothache?” I raised my hand and volunteered that I’d recently had a lot of dental work done; no one else claimed any pain. “No,” Barbara said, “a pain, a toothache.” She said this while grimacing and holding the left side of her face. She then told us she was trying to distinguish between the feelings of the people in the room and those of the spirit.

She then held out her right hand, rubbing the palm. “Has anyone hurt their hand?” No one claimed that one either. “Okay, okay,” Barbara said, apparently better able to determine what feelings were the spirit’s, she went on. “She’s got a toothache and a bad pain in her hand. She probably died with these pains. They could be connected with how she died.” Then abruptly she turned to me and blurted out, “You do a lot of things that bug her!”

I raised my eyebrows. Barbara went on: “You’re too bossy! She says you’re too bossy.” She then went on to ask, “Have you talked to her about rules?” I replied with a most definite, “Yes,” and began telling her of the things I’d talked to her about; all the things that Barbara and I had discussed via phone and especially the recent lighting of the candles in the bathroom.

With George fumbling with the video camera and Barbara quite absorbed in communicating, I don’t think she heard what I’d said about the candles that Sallie seemed to have set aflame. Had she heard, I would have expected a more significant reaction considering the safety issue that immediately came to mind. Instead, Barbara remained with her head down, trying to focus. During these awkward moments of silence, the rest of us exchanged many a questioning look. Presently, Barbara lifted her head and spoke.

Looking directly at me, “She doesn’t like it!” I’m sure I looked exactly what I was thinking, which was who does she think she is anyway? Barbara continued, “I tried to tell her you weren’t meaning to be bossy, but that she needed discipline, and you were trying to teach her right from wrong. I don’t think she likes it, but then again, what child likes to be disciplined or told no?”

I felt very worried at this point. If she didn’t like my bossiness or the rules, what was she capable of doing in anger or defiance? Then Barbara added, in a childlike way, “There’s too many rules. She can’t remember them all.” Hearing those words eased my irritation and anger.

Barbara suggested we help Sallie remember the rules by occasionally repeating them. “When speaking to her, tell her to remember that we don’t play with fire, we don’t hurt Tony etc … Keep in mind it is as if you have just adopted a little girl and you need to be patient and understanding but firm. Remember she is very young, and kids of this age often need to be reminded of things.” Rodney asked how old Sallie was. “Seven,” Barbara said, and in a young childish tone of voice, she repeated the words, “I’m seven.”

The whole process of her communicating with a spirit was truly amazing. None of us really talked much; we nodded in agreement while Barbara talked and we were very aware of what we might be telling Sallie via verbal or non-verbal communication.

Barbara asked if Sallie woke the baby at night. It was not anything she and I had discussed previously, and at this point I let out a big, “Oh, yeah!” I told her of the trouble we had been having with his waking up shortly after we put him down following a diaper change and feeding. “I get the feeling she’s been waking him,” Barbara said. “You need to be firm in telling her not to. She may have just wanted to play with him or maybe she’s been reminding him to breathe. I can’t tell.”

This comment brought SIDS (sudden infant death syndrome) to mind. If Taylor was in danger of SIDS, Sallie may have saved him countless times each night. I felt a sense of queasiness followed by a heartfelt thankfulness.

Barbara shared that from her point of view, the stuffed animals and the baby were the only things Sallie had to play with. Barbara thought that the focus on playing with Taylor would stop, or at least lessened, if we were to get her a doll or some toy to call her own.

I had already thought how nice it would be to give Sallie something she could call her own; a doll seemed perfect. Barbara said that if we were to ask Sallie a question and then concentrate, the first thing that came into our mind would probably be Sallie’s answer. I tried this, but it didn’t seem to work. I was unsure if Sallie was simply being stubborn, if I was unable to concentrate properly, or if she just wasn’t in the room when I made these attempts.

I asked Barbara to talk to Sallie and ask if a doll would be all right. “Well, all right,” Barbara said in a childlike way, as if Sallie was being made to settle for something less than what she wanted. Barbara said she could tell it wasn’t going to be enough; Sallie still wanted to be with the baby. I told Barbara, “Tell Sallie it is okay with me if she spends time with Taylor, but she just had to be careful when playing with him.” Barbara responded, “Okay,” in an excited, childlike manner.

Looking directly at me, Barbara said, “She’s warmer to you because you’re the mommy.” She said she got the feeling that Sallie had suffered abuse in some way. “Perhaps her father or another man abused her, and that’s why she attacked Tony the other night. She’s acting as the baby’s guardian angel. She’s protecting the baby, and men make her uneasy.” She reiterated the need to be firm with Sallie, to remind her that we had to be the ones to take care of Taylor’s physical needs, and that if she interfered or hurt us, she would be punished. Again I wondered how on earth we would go about punishing someone we couldn’t see. How would we actually know if she was taking her punishment at all? But before I could voice these concerns, Barbara was on to another topic.

“I don’t think she’ll leave the house. She feels safe and secure here.” We told Barbara of the research results we had come up with at the library. “Maybe she had been treated by the doctor who had owned the house; maybe she liked him and followed him home. Whatever the reason, she likes it here.” At this time, Barbara voiced her only concern, which was how Sallie would deal with our inevitable move. We were only renting the house and would eventually have to move. It was doubtful that she would accept it nicely. We wondered if she would unleash a temper tantrum to show us how unhappy she was about it. Would she throw or break things, set more fires, or do physical harm to someone? The question left an unsettled feeling in the back of my mind because I knew that one day we would have to deal it.

Barbara suggested that when we moved, we should discuss it with Sallie first. Perhaps after we had built a relationship with her, she would be more understanding and trusting of us. If we were up front with her, she might not feel we were abandoning her, and if we felt comfortable with the idea, we could even offer that she move with us. Barbara felt that despite the invitation Sallie would remain behind.

Throughout the evening, our conversation jumped haphazardly. Barbara tried to tell us of the things Sallie was saying as they became known to her. The topics changed quickly, because young children have a very short attention span.

I told Barbara I had been talking to Sallie a lot during the last couple of days as a way to give her positive reinforcement. I mentioned suggesting that she swing the ball on the ceiling fan as a way of letting us know she was around. At this point I reinforced to Sallie that I liked knowing when she was around because then I knew I could talk to her.