there was a third voice—one that was distinctly female. As we listened to it, we heard the names Joe, Aaron, and Melissa.
Returning to the Edison house, we played the interview for them and asked them if the names were familiar to them. Lisa said they were Jennifer’s closest friends, though Lisa wasn’t very fond of them. At our suggestion, she agreed to invite the three kids over the next day.
Joe, Aaron, and Melissa all showed up, but they were obviously pretty weirded out. Unlike Jennifer’s parents, they didn’t want to get to the bottom of what was happening. They just wanted to put their friend’s death behind them and move on.
As we talked with the three of them, we found out a couple of things. First, the song that Lisa had heard blasting from Jennifer’s stereo had been their theme song as friends. Second, Jennifer and her friends had all made a pact: when their time came, they wanted to be buried somewhere near the ocean.
Grant and I suggested the idea of having a ceremony on the beach and casting Jennifer’s remains into the water. Her parents were reluctant to do that, however. After all, this was their only child and her ashes were all they had left of her. It was certainly understandable.
But later, when Grant and I played back the interview with Jennifer’s friends, we heard a female voice again. This time it said, “Water,” and “Get out.” When we told the Edisons about this, they relented.
Sometime later, they had a ceremony on the beach and entrusted their daughter’s ashes to the waves. They experienced no more activity from that point on.
----
GRANT’S TAKE
S pirits are limited in the ways they can communicate with the living. They can’t always tell us outright what they need or want. But if we open ourselves up and listen closely enough, we can hear them.
----
GHOST LOT NOVEMBER 1999
A few years after we started T.A.P.S., a woman named Maura, who lived not far from Grant in western Rhode Island, told him that her grandparents were hearing and seeing strange things in their two-bedroom home.
What kind of things? Unearthly growls from somewhere inside the house. The sound of gravel crunching in the driveway outside. Doors opening and closing on their own. Blurs and shadows in almost every photograph taken in the house. Every so often, Maura’s grandmother, Helen, saw a scraggly-looking figure standing outside her bathroom or in the backyard.
But the most unsettling incident was one that involved the family cat, which had gone missing. When they found it, its torso had been ripped away, leaving only its exposed spine to hold its upper and lower halves together. You can imagine how upset they were.
Grant and I checked out the house on our own. It was a good thing he knew the area, or I might never have found the place. It was dark out, and the area was too rural to have streetlights. When we got close, I could see that the house was built on a hill, with a gravel driveway curling around beneath it.
Maura and her grandparents were nice people. That much was obvious. They were also troubled by all the goings-on. You could see it in their eyes.
We all sat for a while in the living room, talking about what had happened and how we were going to proceed that night. Then we set up our equipment and went to work. For the rest of the evening, we heard what sounded like footsteps, but we didn’t hear growls or see any apparitions.
Then, around 12: 30 in the morning, we heard the crunch of gravel outside the house and the thud of horses’ hooves. Shooting to our feet, Grant and I peered out into the darkness from the family’s enclosed porch. The sound of hooves had abated, but we heard the scrape of boots and people talking.
Without our coats, we went outside to see what was going on. But when we got out there, there was nothing to see. No horses, no people, and no explanation for what we had heard. We went back inside.
For a while after that, it was quiet both inside and
Returning to the Edison house, we played the interview for them and asked them if the names were familiar to them. Lisa said they were Jennifer’s closest friends, though Lisa wasn’t very fond of them. At our suggestion, she agreed to invite the three kids over the next day.
Joe, Aaron, and Melissa all showed up, but they were obviously pretty weirded out. Unlike Jennifer’s parents, they didn’t want to get to the bottom of what was happening. They just wanted to put their friend’s death behind them and move on.
As we talked with the three of them, we found out a couple of things. First, the song that Lisa had heard blasting from Jennifer’s stereo had been their theme song as friends. Second, Jennifer and her friends had all made a pact: when their time came, they wanted to be buried somewhere near the ocean.
Grant and I suggested the idea of having a ceremony on the beach and casting Jennifer’s remains into the water. Her parents were reluctant to do that, however. After all, this was their only child and her ashes were all they had left of her. It was certainly understandable.
But later, when Grant and I played back the interview with Jennifer’s friends, we heard a female voice again. This time it said, “Water,” and “Get out.” When we told the Edisons about this, they relented.
Sometime later, they had a ceremony on the beach and entrusted their daughter’s ashes to the waves. They experienced no more activity from that point on.
----
GRANT’S TAKE
S pirits are limited in the ways they can communicate with the living. They can’t always tell us outright what they need or want. But if we open ourselves up and listen closely enough, we can hear them.
----
GHOST LOT NOVEMBER 1999
A few years after we started T.A.P.S., a woman named Maura, who lived not far from Grant in western Rhode Island, told him that her grandparents were hearing and seeing strange things in their two-bedroom home.
What kind of things? Unearthly growls from somewhere inside the house. The sound of gravel crunching in the driveway outside. Doors opening and closing on their own. Blurs and shadows in almost every photograph taken in the house. Every so often, Maura’s grandmother, Helen, saw a scraggly-looking figure standing outside her bathroom or in the backyard.
But the most unsettling incident was one that involved the family cat, which had gone missing. When they found it, its torso had been ripped away, leaving only its exposed spine to hold its upper and lower halves together. You can imagine how upset they were.
Grant and I checked out the house on our own. It was a good thing he knew the area, or I might never have found the place. It was dark out, and the area was too rural to have streetlights. When we got close, I could see that the house was built on a hill, with a gravel driveway curling around beneath it.
Maura and her grandparents were nice people. That much was obvious. They were also troubled by all the goings-on. You could see it in their eyes.
We all sat for a while in the living room, talking about what had happened and how we were going to proceed that night. Then we set up our equipment and went to work. For the rest of the evening, we heard what sounded like footsteps, but we didn’t hear growls or see any apparitions.
Then, around 12: 30 in the morning, we heard the crunch of gravel outside the house and the thud of horses’ hooves. Shooting to our feet, Grant and I peered out into the darkness from the family’s enclosed porch. The sound of hooves had abated, but we heard the scrape of boots and people talking.
Without our coats, we went outside to see what was going on. But when we got out there, there was nothing to see. No horses, no people, and no explanation for what we had heard. We went back inside.
For a while after that, it was quiet both inside and
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