I’ve put up two new galleries for those who enjoy photographs. The first is personal and will appeal only to those who have a keen interest in Nick and my personal life, and a love for all things bridal. It’s a gallery of our wedding plans…

If so inclined, you can view Our Wedding Gallery here.

The second gallery is of greater interest, and I think you’ll find something to like therein. It’s a gallery of items from The Ellen Rimbauer Museum, which closed its doors in 2007. But its owners kindly sent me catalog photos of their inventory, so I’m able to show you lots of Ellen’s personal items purchased from the estate auction or donated by the Gilchrist family.

Check out The Ellen Rimbauer Museum gallery here.

The 11 page tome that was my research on the Briar Witch took up a fair chunk of my week, so I really didn’t have the energy or time to write a personal update since Emery’s investigation results. Sometimes personal updates are no fun; it’s more enjoyable to give you the research, or the artifacts, or the spooky stories. It’s more fun to think of Rose Red as still being here, because that’s where I’m sure Nick is, somewhere or another.

Truth is Rose Red is still here, just not in the same way. Life here in my Rose Suite has to go on, even when it gets weird. My friendships, like plants, need nurturing to grow. I knew Steve would be upset with me, you may recall I wrote about it a couple days ago. He did call me, though he wasn’t as angry as I expected. We arranged dinner out, which we did yesterday. Chill. Nice. The sort of thing completely normal friends with completely normal ties to each other do. Except the tie that binds him and me is losing our significant others in a haunted house eight years ago…

Far from normal, wouldn’t you say? (Continue reading…)

Unraveling Rose Red: Piecing together the puzzle of history and “coincidence” in Rose Red.

The winter of 1814 was particularly harsh in Dutchtown, Tennessee. The small, young community of modest farms - at the center of which was a tiny village hub consisting of nothing more than a general store and a church - was in danger of dissolution. Starvation was a very real possibility and by late February one third of the town’s population had moved away, primarily relocating to family elsewhere or wandering further afield to seek a new, more forgiving life.

Normally the people of Dutchtown would survive a winter with their stores filled with grains and other staples. Most farm owners had at least one cow and several chickens. The majority also owned pigs for pork. But a terrible harvest in the fall of 1813 left many with their pantries bare of all but what goods they’d preserved in jars, and smoked meats. Any oats and wheat they did have they sacrificed to their animals. It was often in vain; more livestock perished that winter than any other, frequently due to slaughter for food, even if they weren’t fattened. Elsewhere in Tennessee a drinking song containing the lyric “Lock your barns boys, gather round / no horse is safe near wee Dutchtown”* (referencing the fact that the most desperate people in Dutchtown killed and ate their horses) became cruelly popular.

The devastating winter of 1814 set into motion two extremely important events in the history of Dutchtown, events that would make it legendary, and eventually lead to its demise. (Continue reading…)

Rose Red enthusiasts will remember Joyce Reardon periodically referencing a mid-60s investigation of Rose Red by a group of scientists. Four accomplished Washington area scientists teamed up and wandered the mansion in the last days of 1964, trying to debunk some of the claims of paranormal activity in the house. While there they heard the house scream on multiple occasions. They were able to catch the screaming on tape (although they concluded it wasn’t screaming that they heard…), and I’m very excited to reveal to you the audio clips of Rose Red screaming, sent to me by the last remaining scientist from the 1964 group!

I’ve included his e-mail in full here, and it’s worth a read. The audio files are contained therein. First, here’s a photo of the four scientists. The one who sent me the clips (and photo) is Jeffrey Wright.

(Continue reading…)

This site, by the very nature of its subject matter, is no laughing matter. But even the most terrible tragedy has some comic relief. Nick has a wicked, dry wit, and can crack jokes even under the greatest pressure. So he’d appreciate me giving a little “time out” to show you something that, now that I look back on it, is absolutely hilarious.

You may remember the publication Weekly World Digest, which was sold mostly at supermarket check-out lines and newspaper stands. It was a black and white rag that was even worse than a tabloid, because tabloids at least attempt to convey something like the truth (they have to, it’s illegal not to…). Weekly World Digest preferred to tell tales of babies born with bat wings, demons possessing ball machines at church bingo nights, vampires feeding off the First Lady, etc. All of these stories were accompanied by usually terribly unconvincing photoshopped pictures – ringing any bells now? Unfortunately, Weekly World Digest went out of business, so I can’t link you to a web site with samples. But I’m sure it’s well logged in the annals of most people’s memories.

Well, Weekly World Digest got wind of the aftermath of the Memorial Day Rose Red trip and printed what may have been the only WWD feature ever to have some basis in reality, even if the details in their version are – to say the least – highly inventive.

(Continue reading…)

“Ashes to ashes, dust to dust. Rose Red crumbled, as all things must.” (Quote from “Seattle Saturday Post” article about Rose Red’s demolition.)

For the fun of engaging the massive YouTube audience in the work I’m doing here I’ve created a little Rose Red video, centering around Seattle’s grand estates. You can see it below or visit the video’s page here to get the code to embed it on your own blog or web site. Enjoy!

In my Father’s house are many rooms; if it were not so, I would have told you. I am going there to prepare a place for you. And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. John 14:2-3

 

That’s a passage from the NIV Bible, which is not the Bible I grew up reading (growing up Roman Catholic my catechism teachers tended to use the NAB) but I have a NIV Bible given to me by a Protestant aunt on my father’s side. I find the language to be very accessible, and given I’m not all that religious nor am I taken to reading the Bible often, accessible is good.

But why quote it? Read it again. Doesn’t it somehow ring true to my life as I know it, as you know it through this blog?

If not, I’ll put it into new perspective. Last night I had the strangest feverish dreams – I’d swear I actually did have a fever, except I feel perfectly fine. My subconscious mind, however, was clearly on fire.

It started with the gargoyles again, all the stone statues that I “dreamed” about when Emery was here. Then a voice, a woman’s voice at first – possibly Ellen’s – whispering that verse. “In my Father’s house are many rooms…” - then a shift. Someone else’s voice, a man’s. I recall now since I met him the day I dropped Nick off at the university for the field trip that the voice was Vic’s. I recall also that he was very religious and carried his Bible with him into Rose Red. I could see it tucked into the crook of his arm when I met him. (Continue reading…)

I’ve been somewhat at a loss for words since I received word from Mary Ashwood, Emery’s fiancée, with the results of Emery’s study here in my condo the weekend before last. Since no dramatic events took place during his stay, I didn’t think a lot would come of it.

I was wrong. Rose Red is nothing if not totally unpredictable.

Let me preface this by letting you know Mary has started a blog for her & Emery’s investigations (they work as a team now – a psychic and a forensic scientist, what a combination!). She also talks about some aspects of personal life, as I do here. In fact, she wrote a fantastic biography about Emery which you can (and should) read here…replete with family and childhood photos (definitely check them out). The introduction to the blog, called “Rose Red: A Haunting” can be found here. For convenience, any references to Emery will now automatically link to their blog, so you can remember to check often.

When I first read Mary’s report, I think I was mostly numb. It didn’t frighten me initially, it was almost as if I was reading something about someone else’s life. Like one of my articles about the curses surrounding Rose Red. They’re not about me, or Nick. They’re not personal, so to speak. I think my initial defense mechanism was to read the results very clinically.

But now that I’ve read them about fifteen or sixteen times, and examined the evidence Mary kindly posted for us to experience, I’m feeling a little freaked out. Read on to find out why. (Continue reading…)

I’m often asked what it’s been like being involved with someone with such diverse and powerful psychic talents as Nick. It’s one thing to be in a relationship with someone whose abilities are limited to a pack of tarot cards, it’s quite another to be in one with someone who can hear your every thought and influence your state of mind, literally.

The most important thing to remember about Nick, and all psychics of his ilk, is that it takes a lot of energy – even as experienced as he is – to use his gifts. Some people are harder to read, some people are more resistant to his ability to affect their minds, some ghosts are harder for him to communicate with, etc. Those times his energy is depleted particularly fast. But even for those who are highly open to him, he still has to exert himself to exercise his talents. So he chooses his moments and targets carefully. It’s never been beyond him to play a practical joke using his abilities, but it leaves him weaker than if he just used a whoopie cushion like the rest of us!

At first it was intimidating dating a psychic. He didn’t hide from me the fact that he is what he is; he knew he didn’t have to feel ashamed or make apologies for his gifts…but I must admit, I was initially skeptical. He fixed that with what later became his favorite way to toy with me (and in all honesty, one of my favorite games to play with him, even if it did sometimes drive me batty). Have you ever had a song stuck in your head? Of course you have, we all have. But imagine having a song planted there by someone. Imagine it’s not only a song that you “think”, but that you actually “hear”, plain as if it was playing on a stereo next to you. That’s what Nick did to me to prove he was the real deal.

(Continue reading…)

Happy Saint Patrick’s Day. Kiss me, I’m Irish! (With a name like O’Sullivan, could you guess?)

Let’s celebrate with new galleries: Nick’s Scrapbook & Ally’s Scrapbook. These will be ongoing galleries of photographs from my life and from Nick’s life, and sometimes from our life together. I’ve called them “scrapbooks” because I’ve done some of the photos on digital scrapbook pages - too much time on my hands this weekend, even with the huge Deanna Petrie project.

See larger versions of these & more on the new gallery pages.

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