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Halifax Haunting

30 Monday Oct 2017

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One of the more “haunted” places in Halifax; a city that is rich in history and in mystery; the wonderful 5 Fisherman Restaurant. Strange grey mists, taps going on and off, glasses and cutlery landing on the floor. The common “haunted location” feeling of never being quite alone…

Staff report cold spots and disembodied voices, including a man and woman arguing in a private dining room (Captain’s Quarters); this room also has apparitions who wander in and out. Ghostly hands are have been known to tap unsuspecting folks on the shoulder.

A frequent non-corporeal visitor is an older gentlemen, described as tall, with long grey hair and a long dark coat. He is often noticed when objects crash to the floor; one waiter reported seeing the man in a mirror after an ashtray was found, in pieces, on the floor. When the man noticed the apparition in a mirror, he turned to see who this was and there was no one there, turning back to look at the mirror, in shock, the reflection had vanished.

This same man was seen by another staff member; the man was on the phone and noticed the strange, tall man standing a distance away; he addressed the gentleman and informed him that he was be with him, directly. Upon finishing his conversation, hanging up the phone, he turned to speak to the man. He had disappeared.

Another incident was not quite so innocent; a hostess was showing clients to a table when she felt something brush her cheek, hard. She didn’t think much of it, at the time, when she returned to her station, the Maitre’d asked what had happened to her face. She went to look in the mirror and there was a clear imprint of a hand, as if she had been slapped.

A definite “must” if you find yourself in Halifax.

The Ghost of Mary Gallagher

29 Sunday Oct 2017

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I would not be a true “Montréalaise” if I allowed a collection of creepy stories without the gruesome tale of Mary Gallagher.

On the morning of June 27th, Mary, her friend Michael Flanagan decided, fatefully, it would turn out, to visit her friend and fellow prostitute, Susan Kennedy. Susan lived at 242 William Street, on the second floor.

Susan Kennedy was tried and found guilty of Mary’s murder.
Also at the residence was Susan’s husband – Jacob. Jacob left the home, shortly after Mary and Michael arrived. Susan testified that she left Michael and Mary alone, while she went out to buy whiskey.

When she returned, Kennedy, Gallagher and Flanagan attempted to polish off the bottle. Kennedy, during the inquiry, reported that Flanagan went to lie down, as a result of the whiskey’s effects, in a bedroom.

According to Kennedy’s testimony, she followed him and sat down to “talk”; while they were “talking”, Kennedy’s husband came home and was not impressed by finding his wife (although she was a prostitute), in bed – with Flanagan.
There was an exchange of words between Kennedy and her husband, and he stormed out of the residence.
It is important to note that Jacob Mears, Kennedy’s husband did not drink; Kennedy, on the other hand, not only drank but was known as a rather unpredictable as well as a nasty drunk.

Flanagan was called to testify at Susan Kennedy’s trial and claimed that when he decided to have a lie down, Susan and Mary were in friendly spirits. He said, when he woke up in the afternoon, he was thirsty and asked Susan to get him a glass of water. Flanagan then suggested that they go out for a beer; there was a heated discussion regarding who would pick up the tab. Flanagan left and claimed that he saw Mary lying, face down on the floor. He claimed that there was no blood to be found. He further claimed to have not questioned why Mary was on the floor because he was in too much of a hurry to grab something to drink.

Susan’s version of the events were somewhat different. She claims that she was in bed with Flanagan, sleeping when she heard Mary invite a man into Kennedy’s home. Susan claims to have met the man, previously, but couldn’t remember his name. Due to drink, she fell back asleep but was awakened by arguing between Mary and this mysterious stranger.
Susan went back to sleep; when she awakened, the arguing had stopped….the man was gone and Mary was no more.

Susan testified, “When I saw her I got such a fright that I fell upon the floor. She was lying on her breast. Her body was next to the door with the feet pointing to the street. Her head was in the tub, also one of her hands. I am not sure but that this hand was on the floor. I went to call the police but I was too weak.” Going on, Kennedy claimed Flanagan not only saw the state of Mary’s body but when he did, he ran away.

Poor Jacob, Kennedy’s sad sack hubby, came home to the sight of Mary’s dismembered body. He left is wife in the home and ran to get the police.

Kennedy’s clothes were covered in blood. She claimed that while trying to clean up, she slipped and fell in it.

The police called in, to testify, said: Kennedy had told them that “a man came into the house Friday morning and gave her (Kennedy) some money, which, arousing the jealousy of the deceased, the latter and the man had a quarrel and the man killed her. She said she saw the man wash the blood from his hands and clear out. Before going he warned her not to tell the police. She did not know the man’s name, and was glad he had escaped because he was a good-looking fellow.”

This is a link to the story in the Witness. http://collections.banq.qc.ca/erezFullScreen…

The mystery man was never identified but, the police did find Jacob’s axe covered in blood, flesh and hair, inside the Kennedy/Mears home. Susan and Michael Flanagan were arrested.

During the trial – witnesses claimed to have heard fighting between the two women and Kennedy screaming, at someone in the flat, “If you don’t leave me alone, I’ll split your head open.”

The tenant, living downstairs from Kennedy, testified that she hears a loud sound, like a body drop, then, the sound of the axe being used on something. She also claimed to have heard Kennedy say, “I’ve wanted revenge for a long time. I finally got it.”

Kennedy was found guilty and Flanagan was released. She was sentenced to be hung on Dec. 5th.
She didn’t hang, instead her sentence was commuted, and she spent the next 16 years in prison. She was released and promptly disappeared.

Michael Flanagan ended up drowning, on Dec. 5th , in 1879 – strangely, on the very day that Susan had been scheduled to hang.

Our poor victim, Mary, was buried in what is termed a “pauper’s grave”. While she may not have been on people’s minds while she lived, she certainly gained notoriety by her death and for over a century following.

The Irish, a superstitious cultural group, began to swear that Mary was still wandering the neighbourhood, minus one important detail of her person…her head.

Somewhere along the line – Mary’s legend solidified, and Montreal legend now has it that every 7 years, the next appearance should be June 27th, 2019, Mary walks the streets of Griffintown – William and Murray Streets, looking for her head.

This is all that remains at the address. If you are feeling up to the task – take a walk….


Le Pionnier – Haunting in Pointe-Claire

09 Thursday Oct 2014

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Chenier

Chenier/Pointe-Claire Hotel/Pionnier/Clyde’s

Located in Pointe-Claire Village, Pointe-Claire, QC

From what I understand, the ghosts at this location are kept “under wraps”, no pun intended.

This area of Pointe-Claire is very rich in history; dating back to the mid-1600’s.

As per the Ville de Pointe-Claire web site: The Charlebois Hotel, c. 1910

According to the registry, Lot 64 – where 286 Lakeshore is located – has been the site of innkeeping activities since at least the 1880’s. Then operated by Louis Labelle, “innkeeper of the parish”, on the property of his wife, Émilie Charlebois, the site was sold to Thomas and Herménégilde Duchesneau in 1886.

It was then purchased by Léon Charlebois in 1894; his name is legible on signs hung on the building at the turn of the century. Subsequent deeds indicate the owners to be Ferdinand Lanthier in 1896; Mélanie David, wife of William Rickner, in 1900; and Wilfrid and Napoléon Schetagne in 1901.

In 1904, Napoléon sold his share to Wilfrid and waived his “right to operate a hotel… within the limits of the village of Pointe Claire”. In 1907, Wilfrid sold it to Edmond Malette with “all the furnishings of the hotel”.

In 1925, Sylva Malette sold to Willie Bougie, innkeeper of Lachine, who in turn sold it to Léo Chénier in 1926. The hotel was henceforth called Chénier, and kept this name until the building was sold in 1947 to new proprietors, Albert Brisebois and Gustave Paquin. When Brisebois bought his partner’s share ten years later, the hotel was named the Pointe-Claire Hotel.

In the 70’s; the hotel ceased to exist. During the late 60’s and early 70’s; the hotel had garnered a very bad reputation. It had become rundown and shabby, catering to a shadowy clientele. It was sold and the new owners renamed it as “Le Pionnier”  renovating and making over the building, leaving the historic exterior but gutting the second floor to create a mezzanine. They left the third floor intact, replete with the rooms which were pressed into service as offices for the owners and storage. Some remained empty.

In the late 70’s, I worked there, on the second floor mezzanine. My shift finished early in the morning hours; frequently, not leaving before 4 or 5 in the morning. On occasion, I would have to bring various items upstairs for deposit in the owners’ offices. I hated going up those stairs. The atmosphere was so completely opposite to the fun and good natured havoc of the bars below. It was an oppressive feeling; like you were being watched but by someone very close. If I could avoid going, I would. One night I had some paperwork that needed to be left for one of the owners. I couldn’t talk anyone else into going up those stairs. We never discussed it, out loud; new employees were usually put to service by running whatever errand needed to be run, upstairs. It wasn’t long before they suddenly became too busy to oblige.

The first incident happened shortly after I was hired. I had to bring some paperwork up to the office.   Walking up the stairs, I felt like someone was behind me, it felt like it but it wasn’t possible. The stairs were very narrow and I was absolutely alone. Upon reaching the third floor, I walked down the hallway; the floor was oppressive and had a very unpleasant odour due to age and neglect. I placed the papers on the desk and turned around to see someone hurry past the doorway; it was only a couple of steps away but when I reached the hall – there was no one in sight. There was no sound of someone walking down the stairs and all the doors to the other rooms were closed, someone opening and closing the door would have been heard. I was, to say the least, creeped out. I, virtually, ran down the stairs.

The second incident occurred about a month later; again, I had to bring something upstairs – I think it was my tape from the night’s sales, regardless, up I went again. Again, I felt as if I was not alone and apparently, I wasn’t. I was in the office, putting my tape in an envelope when someone put their hand on my back. My boyfriend at the time also worked at the bar and so I figured it was him. I was wrong. I turned around, to give him hell for creeping up on me but there was no one there. I took off through the doorway and saw a dark shape move through one of the closed doors.

That was the last time I ever agreed to go up to the third floor again.

A few years ago, I found myself back in that bar with a few friends; the young woman waiting our table and I struck up a conversation – old day vs the now kind of thing. The girl brought up the third floor. We ended up talking about it which was a taboo topic back in the day. Taboos change. She was a little hesitant with her questions – beating about the bush.

Had I ever been up there?

What was it used for, back then?

Did I know anything about the history of the place?

I knew what she was trying to get at but was tentative about how this topic would be received. So I ask her if something spooky had happened to her and her body language showed immediate relief. Yes, she told me and related her tale of the third floor; she had gone upstairs for some supplies, when she reached the top of the stairs she saw, what she thought was the shadow of someone going into a room.

As she walked down the hallway, she noticed that the door to the room, where she had seen the shadow, was closed.  She went to the supply room and as she was opening a box, she felt someone behind her. When she turned, she saw a dark form wavering in the doorway, she fell over a box trying to back away. The form came into the room but rather than advance on her, it turned and seemed to go through the wall.

She went on to tell me that other co-workers had also experienced inexplicable occurrences in the building.

Old Orchards Aren’t Just For Apples…

25 Wednesday Sep 2013

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Brown_ladyNames will be changed to protect identities. Sorry but it’s the only way I could get permission to relate the events to you.

In the N.D.G. district of Montreal, you will find the street, Old Orchard. Below Sherbrooke Street, is an old three story walk-up apartment and the location of some pretty scary events. The individual involved is extremely level headed and not prone to flights of imagination by any means and if you ask him about the story? He will not discuss it, for a couple of reasons; first, and foremost, he is not inclined to be the object of someone else’s disbelief and amusement, second, talking about what went on still scares him.

The gentleman who shared this story with me will be referred to as M, his female companion will be C and their child will be referred to as B.

Shortly after the birth of his first child, M and his companion moved into a 3 story walk-up on Old Orchard in N.D.G. It was a typical older building in the neighbourhood, nothing to look at and the interior was unkempt. Their apartment was long and narrow, the rooms connected by an equally long and narrow hallway. It was rather dark and not a very cheery place.

It wasn’t long before they experienced some rather bizarre goings-on. They would put an article down in one spot, only to find it had been moved. Doors would open of their own volition but as mentioned, M was logical about the doors and attributed the opening and closing to be characteristic of an old building and this would be true had it not been for the combination of other events.

Being Catholic by birth, a crucifix was hung in the baby’s room. C. went in to check on their child while M was in their living room, watching television, after checking on the baby, she noticed the crucifix had somehow slipped and was now hanging upside down. She and the baby joined M in the living room and C mentioned the crucifix, asking M to fix it. M thought this to be very strange because of the way the crucifix had been attached but went into the room to put it right side up. Upon entering the baby’s room however, he noticed a decided chill and adjusted the thermostat. He checked the crucifix and it appeared someone had taken the icon from the wall and deliberately re-hung it. After he had fixed the problem, he went back to the living room to ask C if she had tried to fix it and inadvertently left it upside down. C told him that she hadn’t touched it since he had hung it up there, some weeks prior. M. shrugged it off.

The next day, C took the baby to visit some friends and M stayed home, he had to go to work later on in the day. He decided to shower and then watch a bit of television; upon coming out of the shower, however, he noted the bathroom door was open, although he knew he had closed it, his clothing was hanging on the hook. This wasn’t the first time he had encountered problems with doors opening and closing, as mentioned earlier but this was the first time he felt any real unease.

When he had finished his grooming, he closed the bathroom door, tightly and made his way to the living room. All the doors down the hallway were closed. Those doors had been open when he decided to shower. Walking down the hallway, he re-opened the doors and started back to the living room. The bathroom door was now fully opened even though he had closed it.

C had mentioned to M that she had noticed things out of the corner of her eye but when turning to look, nothing would be there and she also told him that she felt like she was being watched. M was now experiencing that same feeling; that someone was watching him. He tried to shrug it off and sat down in his living room, his choice of chair faced the hallway as well as the television, as he was about to flip the t.v. on, his attention was drawn to the hallway and to his unpleasant surprise, he was witness to an opaque, dark, clearly defined shadow form walk past the door and disappear. He jumped up, of course, to investigate but there was nothing there. The hall was empty.

The following series of events made it very clear to the young couple that they were living in the wrong place and needed to re-locate, as soon as possible.

When M arrived home from work the following day, C told him that he would have to rehang the crucifix again as it had flipped upside down again. M. knew this wasn’t likely as he had secured the cross to the wall to ensure this wouldn’t happen again. He went toward the baby’s bedroom and as he was about to enter the room, he was first hit by a blast of cold, at the same time he saw a dark shadow that seemed to be leaning over his baby’s crib. He advanced toward the shadow and felt as if he was being pushed back; he lunged forward and the shadow disappeared, his son began to cry. He grabbed up B and as he fled the room, he noticed that the crucifix was, indeed, upside down, again.

Following that incident, C refused to stay in the apartment another night and with M’s help, they packed up the baby’s belongings and necessities; she went to stay with family while M prepared the little family for their move out.

The problems continued as M tried to pack their belongings. He would fill a box, only to find some of the objects out of the box and on the floor as soon as he turned his back. And the crucifix? He was finishing up the baby’s room when it flew off the wall and hitting the opposite wall.

Whatever was in the apartment remained there because once the little family moved out, they had no further problems.

Ghosts In The Family Part II

25 Wednesday Sep 2013

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We have had “incidents” in our current home. Things have been very quiet over the past few years but during the late nineties to about 2008, life was not all that pleasant around here.

Below is an just an example of the things experienced in our home, it was written by one of our sons; he wanted to document the events.

“It’s currently 3:00am… And I refuse to go turn my music off. So I am going to sit here and wait until it has finished the 5 disk cycle… this could be a while.

Why do I refuse to turn it off? Because I refuse to leave this room. Not only have I seen something repeatedly, a picture flew off the wall… a good 6-7 feet. Music volume going up and down… feeling weird brushes against my arm as I walked/vacuumed. The cake I baked at 12 o’clock move a good 3 feet across the table between the time I left to have a cigarette. And the birds are still squawking…. They have been for quite some time… and every time they start… they are facing another part of the rooms. The vacuum moved as well… Has been quite an active night for whatever occupies this house with us. Cold chills. Brushing. Things moving – both violently and innocently.

The first event tonight was the brooms falling down the stairs. Oddly enough, I wasn’t on the stairs, I was in the kitchen baking my cake. This is LONG before I went down there to paint my toolbox. I thought nothing of it and brought them back up. (birds begin squawking)

While making the icing for the cake, something brushes my arm, Several times. Not once, not twice, pushing toward 5 or 6 times. In the middle of the kitchen. I wasn’t hitting the counter of fridge, it was always in the same spot. About 5 feet back from the counter, almost directly in the middle. (bird fairly quiet, just the usual “Let me sleep chirps”)

At about 2, I went outside to have a cigarette, I wrapped the cake delicately with saran wrap and placed it on the icing rack. The icing rack was on the left side of the table… Closest to the birds. When I came back, my cake was on the other corner. This is when I began getting weird vibes. (Birds are STILL squawking, this time Percy seems like she is having night fright and jumping/crashing into the four corners of her little caged world)

The light in the dining room began to swing and the temperature dropped significantly. (Birds-all- Acting as if suffering from night fright. Severely.

At about 2:15 I was pushed in the hallway between the basement and bathroom. Did not trip, was pushed. Not heavily, just a light shove forward.

The picture flew off the wall in the front hall way at about 2:30, along with the volume fluctuations.”

My husband and I were away that weekend and when we returned, we found our son had ended up sleeping in the car. He was simply too unnerved to return to the house.

A few examples of other incidents:

  1. Our Yule tree flew across the living room; it didn’t fall over, it flew, along with the stand it was in, about 6 feet from its original location. I was sitting on the sofa, reading at the time. Prior to the tree flying, I had seen a shadow move across the kitchen. A solid shadow, you couldn’t see through it but at this point, we were used to “seeing” things in the home.
  2. We had 4 parrots at the time. Every so often, day or night, they would all freak out – squawking and behaving like a cat was in their cages.
  3. Doors would open and close on their own.
  4. I was in the kitchen, one afternoon, doing up some dishes when someone put their hand on my shoulder. I thought my husband had come home early and turned around. There was, of course, no one there. It wasn’t a slight brush of my shoulder – it was the pressure of a hand. I do know the difference.
  5. There were the sounds of footsteps in empty rooms and the definite feeling that one was not alone.

The final straw was what occurred with my youngest son, as described above. We ended up having to do several cleansings and in time, the disturbances lessened and have, thus far, ceased all together.

Ghosts In The Family

25 Wednesday Sep 2013

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female ghost Every nationality has its own belief in ghost or specters but it would seem none more so than the Irish.  A very superstitious lot, are the Irish.  From the legends of the little people to the terrifying banshees; the Irish have the bases covered.

 My family is, predominately Irish and as a result, I grew up surrounded by tales of ghosts, legends and practices of the paranormal type.   Tea leaves, potions, curses and rituals were as natural as breathing to them as were ghosts.  The concept of ghostly visitations were a given; there were no disputes or arguments, no debates pro and con, ghosts were an accepted part of life.  And, whether delusions, illusions, imagination or the susceptibility of the family because of their belief, actual regular visitations were the order of the day/night.

 The first real ghost story was told to me by my grandmother and was a narrative of something that happened to her.   My grandmother was from Newfoundland, a very small fishing village; she had a large family, as was the norm for Newfoundland in those days.  Child mortality rates were very high.  Newfoundlanders were, primarily, sailors and fishermen; there was a lot of naval traffic in and out of the various ports of call along Newfoundland’s rugged coastline.  Sailors from all over the world could be found in port during the shipping season.  One sunny day, an Italian ship came into port and impacted my grandmother’s family forever.  The captain was an Italian and apparently, quite a good looking man.  He was also, as rumour would have it, married but sailors are renowned for their wandering eye and his eye wandered over to my great-aunt Theresa, my grandmother’s slightly older and truth to tell, favourite sister.  She was, by all accounts, a blonde haired, blue eyed beauty and immediately the captain went about the business of seduction.  She was as naïve as any babe in the woods and fell, head over heels, in love with him and my guess would be, to his dismay – he had fallen in love with her.  The inevitable happened and he had to go back to Italy.  She was inconsolable and I gather, considering what he decided to do, the captain was as well.  They decided that she would return to Italy with him.  What he planned to do about the wife in the home country is beyond me. A further obstacle to these star crossed lovers was my great-grandfather, who, of course, absolutely forbid Theresa from ever seeing this dastardly foreigner again.

They came up with a plan; Theresa would sneak away and the two would sail off into the sunrise, ostensibly to Italy and live happily ever after.

Theresa secreted herself away and boarded the ship.  The captain was waiting and they weighed anchor, sailing out into the Atlantic and Italy.  A storm moved in and Atlantic storms are legendary.  The ship sank, killing all aboard.

My grandmother was unaware that Theresa had run off with her captain.  The night the ship sank, she was startled awake by Theresa.  She was standing at the foot of her bed, soaking wet.  My grandmother asked her what had happened, why was she wet?  The weather was so cold.  Theresa sat down and looked at her, with what my grandmother describes as great sadness and then, she disappeared.  My grandmother thought she had been dreaming but the dream didn’t explain the water on the floor or the wetness of her bed clothes.

A few days later, the news came to the family; Theresa had drowned at sea, with her Italian captain and all his crew.