April Slaughter (18 page)

Nearly nine years ago, Norma decided to construct a guest house on the grounds to accommodate more guests to the B&B. One evening, as a few individuals sat out on the balcony of the guest house, they looked over across the gardens below to see the misty apparition of a man walking on the lawn. They saw him for a few moments before he disappeared into thin air.

“Who do you think he might have been?” I asked Norma.

“If there are spirits here, I am sure one of them would have to be Mr. Carlock. I think he may be a little uneasy with all of the changes we have made to his home. I don’t think he is unhappy, per se—maybe just a bit unsettled by the differences. I know Mrs. Carlock is probably very pleased,” she said.

After having spoken with Allen and me about the history of the grounds, Norma escorted us to our room in the guest house for the night. She had given us the “English Rose” room, which was richly decorated in floral décor and had access to the balcony. As we were getting settled, I checked my cell phone for messages, and gently tossed it onto the bed next to Allen’s. He and I have the same model of phone and there is nothing to
outwardly identify which is which.

I was eager to look out over the beautifully landscaped gardens and ponds from the balcony while Allen had excused himself to the restroom.

A few minutes later, we were both out on the balcony admiring how peaceful the evening was when our conversation was interrupted by the sound of a door opening just to our left. We instinctively turned our heads to see who might be joining us, but no one was there. We waited a moment or two and went to see where the sound had come from, but no door to the balcony had been opened.

When we re-entered our room, I walked over to the bed to retrieve my phone and it was not there. Somehow, in the short time that had passed since we stepped outside, my phone had been placed back in its case and placed on the nightstand next to the bed. Allen told me he had noticed both of the phones on the bed before stepping out onto the balcony with me. How strange is it that whoever had picked up and placed my phone in its case on the nightstand knew which one was mine? Our guest room had been locked the entire time, so no one could have entered while we were outside.

As we prepared to turn in for the night, Allen and I talked about how lovely it was to be guests of Oaklea Mansion, and how pleased we would be to make a repeat visit sometime soon. After a few hours’ sleep, Allen was jolted awake by the feeling of a hand gripping his left ankle. He sat up in bed and saw no one there, but maintains that someone or something had touched him. He waited for awhile, but sleep ultimately found him again and the remainder of the night was uneventfully peaceful.

Norma treated us to an elegant breakfast the next morning while we discussed our experiences from the night before. She listened and smiled intently as we spoke, and invited us to come back and visit anytime we were traveling in the east Texas area.

Over the years, having witnessed all types of strange phenomena, I have lost my fear or nervousness when events such as those we experienced at Oaklea Mansion occur. I welcome the interaction and the chances I have been given to determine that just because something is invisible, it doesn’t mean it isn’t there. For example, I cannot see the wind, yet I know when it is blowing and can immediately identify the feeling. The paranormal often affects me in much the same way. Sometimes you just know when you are in the presence of something spiritual, and I believe wholeheartedly that Allen and I were not the only guests of the Oaklea Mansion that day.

The amount of love and respect Norma has poured into this home is evident from the first moment you arrive. If I were a member of the Carlock family, I know I would enjoy being in the home from either side of the veil.

WHAT I LOVE MOST ABOUT THE PARANORMAL is that it’s unpredictable. Anything can happen. Those of us who study the paranormal conjure up a myriad of theories based on what we research and experience, in hopes of gaining a little more understanding about how one factor might affect another. Some investigators believe that the only way to conduct an investigation is through purely scientific means, while others believe spirituality is more important.

Personally, I am stuck right in between the two ends of the spectrum. In my opinion, scientific data collection plays an important role in documenting legitimate paranormal phenomena. By the same token, however, I don’t think that we as human beings are even close to creating a sure-fire way to prove one way or another with equipment alone that the “other side” truly exists. We all rely on our intuition in ordinary, everyday
situations, and I try to pay attention to mine in those that might be paranormal as well. Just as I am often excited to try out a new piece of scientific equipment, I am always looking for new spiritual “tools” as well.

For years, I have read articles and books on the energetic healing and protective properties of rocks and crystals. The first specimen I went in search of was hematite—a stone that is believed to repel negativity. I purchased it in the form of an inexpensive band that I wore on my finger, and began taking it with me everywhere I went. Did it protect me from negativity? I’m not exactly sure, but I enjoyed wearing the ring and thought any talisman that represented a positive attitude and protection was worth bringing along.

I hadn’t purchased any hematite in quite some time when I began discussing different rocks and their properties with Allen. I mentioned that I would like to find a place to purchase another piece, and one of our investigators, Buffy Clary, said she lived near a quaint little rock shop in Tyler that was sure to have anything I was looking for in regard to different stones and talismans. Crystals Rock Shop sits in a quiet residential neighborhood, and if it weren’t for the small, nondescript sign out front, you wouldn’t even know it was there.

Allen, Jerry Bowers, and I made a trip out to the shop one day to see what fun little trinkets we would find. We pulled up and parked in the gravel driveway that leads to a small converted garage adjacent to the house on the property. The entrance is a chain link fence, and just beyond the gate are several outdoor tables filled with large stones of every shape and color one could imagine. Next to the door stands a beautiful, tall wood carving of a wizard that looks as though he were keeping a wary eye on the inventory outside.

After we had looked around for a few brief moments, the lady at the counter welcomed us to the shop.

“Hello. Is there anything I can help you find?” she said.

“Yes, actually,” I said. “I am looking for hematite. Would you happen to carry it?”

She assured me that she did, and proceeded to show me where it was located.

“Are you looking to use it for anything specific?” she asked.

“Yes, we’d like to have a piece or two to carry with us on paranormal investigations and such. Plus, I really love the way it looks and just like having it around.”

“I’m Debi Lacey,” she said. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Right in front of her on the counter sat a Teacup Chihuahua, obviously at home in his little dog bed and blanket.

“This is T.J. He’s old and a bit ornery, but he helps me keep watch over the place.”

As we all introduced ourselves, Debi seemed intrigued by the fact that we were investigators. What we thought would be a brief, ten- to fifteen-minute shopping trip turned into an almost hour-long visit. We looked at all sorts of stones, and read about their properties in several books available to peruse.

“You know, we have ghosts,” said Debi. “I suspect I even know who they are.”

Naturally intrigued, I listened as she began to tell us the history of the rock shop. Bill and Gean Wheless originally lived on the property and had run the shop for many years. Debi had come to work for the couple five years previously, and also helped to take care of Gean as she was getting older and could not adequately care for herself and the shop.

Gean was the first to pass on, and her husband Bill died a few years later. Debi has remained living in the house and keeps the shop open to the public every Friday and Saturday.

“One afternoon, a young lady came in and it was her very first visit here,” said Debi. “She told me that she was able to see and communicate with the spirit of an older woman standing
close by, and that the woman wanted me to pay more attention to the paperwork.

“Gean was very meticulous about her record keeping. I didn’t pay much attention to the comment until it came back to bite me around tax time and I hadn’t done as Gean had insisted. I keep on top of it now.”

While Debi and I were chatting, Jerry and Allen had both found a few items they wanted to purchase and approached the glass case that Debi was standing behind. As Allen handed Debi a $20 bill, another customer in the store asked for her assistance. She went to place the money on the counter and it slipped from her hand and fell to the floor. Allen and Jerry had watched it fall, but a few moments later when Debi returned, the money was lying right in the middle of the counter.

“Things like this happen all of the time!” she exclaimed. “One of the biggest mysteries is what happens to my earrings as I am standing behind the counter. I’ll come in wearing a pair, and then somehow my right earring will come up missing entirely. It’s always the right one, and what’s strange is I never find them again.”

Debi told me that at one point, an individual in the store actually watched as the earring was lifted from her ear and dropped on the floor.

Interestingly enough, unusual activity is not restricted to the shop. The house on the property, while not open to the public, also has its share of spooky experiences. Bill and Gean’s son Robert had lived in the home until recently, and he has a hard time making sense of an incident that occurred on his birthday just a couple of years back.

“It was my birthday, and I opened up the top drawer of my dresser to look for something when I found a card addressed to me inside,” Robert said. “Funny thing is, I had been shuffling through that same drawer several times that day and the card
had not been there. I opened it up and it was a birthday card signed by my mother.”

Robert looked genuinely confused as he told us this story, and as our conversation progressed, we learned that these sorts of things got under his skin and he didn’t much like discussing “the boogers,” as he called them.

Debi never seems at all fazed by the activity, save for when it causes her a little frustration.

“When I close up the shop, I will come into the house and hang the keys on a hook so that I know exactly where they are when it’s time to open up again,” she said. “Oftentimes, I will go to get the keys and they will not be where I left them. I’ll state out loud that I can’t open the shop without those keys, and as I continue on with doing something else, they’ll reappear right on that hook as if they had never been moved.”

Debi also went on to tell us that a black mist has often been seen moving down the hallway of the house, and frightening her roommate Beth.

“Nearly every day, I will see shadow figures standing in my front room window from the outside of the house,” she said. “It can be a bit unsettling, but I am never frightened by it.”

During our first visit to Crystals Rock Shop, I noticed a table where three large white bowls were sitting. I asked what they were used for, and Debi explained to me that they were crystal singing bowls, used to clear the energy of whatever you placed inside of them. When a rubber mallet is gently moved around their rims, each exudes a different gentle tone.

I had come to the shop looking for something to help keep Allen and me clear of negativity during investigations, so I didn’t think it could hurt to “bless” the hematite in one of them before we left. I had never seen or heard of anything like that before, and thought that even if it did nothing, it was still a neat thing to try.