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…)

I explained in the “Ever Wedding” article that I do have a plot with headstone for Nick, but it is obviously empty. In fact, I don’t even consider it anything other than a tiny piece of pointless real estate in a plain Tacoma cemetery. Someday, God willing, he’ll occupy it properly – alongside me, since I bought enough for four. This was either a colossal act of optimism on my part or a colossal waste of money, or perhaps both.

My thinking at the time (I purchased the plot in 2003) was I would be reunited with Nick, we’d have children, and we could all be buried together when the time was right. I didn’t have any special number of children guesstimated; I could only afford to buy a total of four. Even then, I borrowed most the money from my parents, since so much of mine was still tied up in condo expenses. Believe me, it was hard to ask my parents (who aren’t exactly wealthy, though they’re not poor) for cash for an empty burial plot that may or may not ever be used. At least, in a worst case scenario, I can sell the plot.

With the exception of checking the headstone after its installation I have never even visited the site. I’m not sure if any of his family has, either. His aunt and uncle were the only people he was still in touch with at the time of his disappearance, and even then it was infrequent contact. As I wrote on Nick’s Scrapbook, his parents never responded to my letter telling them Nick’s fate, so it’s safe to say they haven’t visited.

I did put a lot of thought into the design of the headstone, and was given access to the monument maker’s software to pull together elements I liked. I took into account that we may share the plot someday, so I wanted it to be something we’d both be proud to lie beneath. Here’s a screen shot of the design.

I thought the quote was particularly appropriate.

What a birthday! Three days later and I haven’t totally recovered. Add to that both Steve and myself still have lingering effects from that cold we shared last week, and I could be in for a rough remainder of the week – but it will have been so worth it.

Sunday was my 39th birthday and that’s a pretty big deal. Jeez…39…hard to type it even now. Not so much because of the age itself, those are just numbers after all, right? But I never thought I’d be on the cusp of a new decade, technically en route to “middle aged” without Nick by my side. By now we were meant to be married and, though we didn’t discuss it much, have several little Hardaway kids running amok reading each other’s minds and cracking jokes in posh British accents. Well…maybe simply have kids, period.

Instead I’m heading into that gray time of life when having kids is more difficult and more risky. If I can’t find a way to Nick soon I may never have them. But this is precisely the kind of thinking I wanted to avoid this year, so I decided to surround myself with people who were friends not only to me, but to Nick.

The Rose Red survivors see each other one-on-one or in small groups on occasion, but rarely get together for a full “reunion”. Thanks to Steve that’s precisely what happened Sunday night. It was my idea that we should all spend some time together, but he found the venue(s) and threw the bash.

In attendance were Steve, Emery and his lovely fiancée Mary, Rachel and her husband Brian, Annie, and Cathy and her husband Clark. That’s all the Rose Red survivors, their spouses/significant others (except Steve, who’s single), and me.

ABOVE: Somewhat awkwardly standing on an uneven surface, L to R top: Emery, Steve. L to R bottom: Mary, Rachel, Annie, me. This photo was taken by Rachel’s husband Brian. This was prior to our sitting at the Herbfarm – continue reading for more about that. Cathy & Clark hadn’t arrived yet. (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…)

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’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…)

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