Well folks…I am back in the saddle, and apologize wholeheartedly for the massive delay in updates (and Twitter, for those who follow me there).

Steve did a good job filling you in, though I didn’t actually intend him to scan the to-do note, he couldn’t help himself. He is a mischief maker.

I was up in Oregon forever, looking after my mom and doing my work remotely. I missed this place like crazy, this home of mine, even if it’s complex and sometimes a little scary. I missed knowing somehow I was close to Nick. If he was dead I could say “I feel him with me everywhere”. But he isn’t…I fully believe that…so I don’t feel him everywhere. I only once in a while feel him here in my Rose Suite. Or, at least I like to think I feel him.

I came home exhausted last night. Steve picked me up at the airport and helped me get settled, because I really was just at the end of my rope. All is OK with my parents now but it took a lot out of me. Plus I’ve spent the whole time being upset that I couldn’t be closer to Emery and Mary with all they’ve been going through. And I’ve missed Steve, and Seattle!

I have so much to show you. Steve’s received a lot of responses to his letter, and I have been doing research and writing some interesting things. Keep an eye out!

I went to bed almost immediately last night and had the strangest dream. (Continue reading…)

The “Haunted America Tours” web site has some rather dubious content sometimes (their recent article about ghost hunting & sex is a hoot – not for those who don’t enjoy frank sexual content, but for those who do, get a good giggle here). But there was a bit of synchronicity today, as they published an article about “Decoding Paranormal Charged Objects: The Crystal Skull”, and a phenomenal package arrived on my doorstep early this morning.

Perhaps you recall I posted some time ago about Cora Frye & the Skull of Doom. To recap, Cora’s granddaughter Janet Ross (from Los Angeles) contacted me with information that Cora owned a “Skull of Doom”, a supposedly charmed crystal skull that she’d bring with her to séances to try to lure spirits, or more aptly, to spook her “clients”. She believes Cora’s crystal skull was present with Cora’s other accoutrement at Ellen’s famed séance. I expressed interest in seeing the skull in person.

Well my wish has come true, far beyond my broadest imaginings! Inside the parcel was a neatly wrapped present, and a gift card that reads “For your birthday: a gift from Rose Red’s past. With warm regards, Janet Ross and Cora Frye.”

My birthday is April 5th, so it arrived just in time. But I couldn’t wait until then to open it! I was absolutely tingling with excitement and couldn’t tear into the present fast enough. Inside the box I found a bundle of beautiful blue silk, and inside the bundle none other than Cora Frye’s “Skull of Doom”!

(Continue reading…)

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…)

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…)

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’ve been hard at work bringing you a huge new gallery dedicated to Deanna Petrie, the 40s film starlet who disappeared in Rose Red in 1946.

I received a large number of photographs from the owner of a Deanna Petrie museum in Fresno, CA, for inclusion in this site. In the gallery are photos of Deanna in films and magazines plus many of Deanna’s outfits from the Oscars, time out on the town, her movies, and Ellen Rimbauer’s January 15th parties. All but the 1946 Rose Red gown are chronicled, as that’s the gown in which she vanished and therefore the gown that’s best known (it was the gown Hedda Hopper declared the cocktail dress for 1946). But the gallery will show you the rest, which you may not have seen - like this one, worn at Ellen’s anniversary ball in 1942, the first January 15th party Deanna attended.

You’ll also find lots of information about Deanna’s personal life and career. So hop on over to the gallery and get to know one of Ellen’s most beloved guests…

What a mad rush of a weekend it was. Not in the way I’d typically mean – typically I’d mean running around doing errands, or scrambling to finish a pile of reviews, or managing a spectacularly long string of social outings (something that hasn’t happened in a very long time, and I don’t much miss it). This was by all outward appearances a quiet weekend. I simply had a friend over for a visit, right?

But time flies when you’re terrifying yourself, and that’s precisely what I did. I don’t think Emery was a fraction as worried as I was. For all my calmness in my previous post, I started working myself into a tizzy in the hours between then and when he made his way here. After all, it wasn’t a housewarming party. I didn’t just invite him over for drinks to finally see my “new” place after all these years. He came because I was capturing shadows in photographs and cleaning up ectoplasmic goo off my kitchen counters.

I wasn’t frightened for myself, but frightened of what being here might stir up for Emery, both emotionally and in adding fuel to a paranormal fire. I didn’t want too much to happen at once, that’s precisely the sort of thing I vowed to avoid when I “disappeared” back in 2002…when I tried to lure Steve here. At least this time my motives were pure, and Emery kindly volunteered the visit anyway.

But as it happened, well…not a lot happened! Surprisingly little, upon reflection. I guess part of me expected the walls to suddenly swallow him up, or his mother to come springing out of the bathroom mirror. No signs of his mother, fortunately. Nor of Nick, unfortunately. But his stay wasn’t fruitless. (Continue reading…)

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