A cloudy night only darkened the shadows cast by street lights
at the house on Dearing Street, where strangling vines had
constricted the house like a spider's web. Inside the century-old
dwelling, in a room lit by the dull yellow lights from an old metal
chandelier, a group of six people sat at an oak table cloaked in a
crimson table cloth. They gazed at the man from whom the tale of a
ghost would expire on his breath.
Jeff
Tate, a heavy-set man with a gray goatee and a calm, clear voice,
took a sip on his Heineken as he prepared to whet the appetite of
those who hungered for his story on this cool, moist night.
On one end of the table, Patrick Burns sat with his video
recorder trained on Tate. Next to him was Christine Parks. The two
are ghost hunters. And they were here this night to see if they
could record any evidence Tate lived in a house that was haunted by
anything more than just an eerie exterior.
Tate has not seen a ghost. Rather, it was one seen by his mother,
Susan Frances Barrow Tate, that has given this house a haunted
legend. Her ghost story is in two books and a magazine article and
was listed on a ghost tour in Athens two years ago. The story is now
one embedded in the history of a house that has seen many physical
changes and new occupants over the decades.
"My mother, who was a very believable, credible person - I mean
in 95 years she only had one story about ghosts and each time she
told it, it was the same. She had an enormous amount of credence,"
Tate said.
Tate's mother always claimed she saw the apparition of a black
man who worked at the house when she was young. She and others
called him "Uncle York." He probably was born a slave on her
grandfather's plantation in Oglethorpe County, Tate said.
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Sullivan/Staff |
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It happened late in her life on a night when she was
upset. She looked up and there he was, exactly as she remembered him
from her youth.
"He smiled and nodded, and she came out and said, 'Uncle York,
Uncle York.' But he just smiled and disappeared, and she interpreted
his smile as meaning whatever was worrying her would go away and it
was gonna be OK. And the story ends there," said the son, who now
owns this house, legend and all.
Tate looked at his audience, which included a reporter, a student
working on a paper for a folklore class, a professor who has written
a book on ghosts and the two ghost hunters.
"I had a tendency to believe her, as she is not normally one who
would exaggerate," said Tate, whose great-grandfather, David
Crenshaw Barrow Jr., became one of the best known chancellors at the
University of Georgia. The house was built in 1879 by Middleton Pope
Barrow and has been enlarged over the decades.
Although it may have nothing to do with ghosts, Tate pointed out
a large ornate sofa in the hallway where all sorts of things were
piled. It originally came from his great aunt's house in Baltimore.
The story goes, a man came into her house saying he was ill. He laid
on the sofa and died. That event has tainted the piece of furniture.
"That sofa came back to Athens in '49 and no one has laid down on
that sofa since," Tate said.
Stories aside, Burns and Parks walked about the house filming and
using a digital voice recorder to tape any sounds, heard and unheard
by the human ear.
In the room where Uncle York was seen, Burns sought to capture
sounds on the recorder. He also beckoned any spirits who might be
present.
"Would anyone like to speak to us tonight?" Burns said, as he
slowly moved the recorder in the quiet room.
"We mean no disrespect by being here tonight," Burns continued.
"We're simply looking for a sign of an afterlife. We'd appreciate
it, if you could speak for us. Give us a sign you're here."
Other pieces of equipment Burns had at his disposal were a
compass, which he described as a "poor man's electron magnetic field
detector," and a digital thermometer.
Once they finished their check for paranormal activity at the
Tate home, the ghost hunters then left for the Jackson Street
Cemetery on the UGA campus, which has a reputation of being haunted
or at least spooky, especially when the hour of midnight approaches.
Here, the night was full of mist as deep shadows cloaked a place
where one could imagine deathless manifestations were trapped among
the aged and earthbound granite monuments.
The group, which included UGA professor William Bender, who has
written a forthcoming book on ghosts, and student Natalee Corbett, a
senior studying folklore, walked among the tombstones and giant
oaks.
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| Allen
Sullivan/Staff |
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"We're not going to concentrate on any photographs
because the drizzle can cause us to get anomalies in almost every
image," Burns said. The most common alleged paranormal anomaly
captured in a graveyard, and many other sites for that matter, are
called orbs. These are small circular translucent objects that
usually are not seen, but somehow are captured on film.
"In my opinion, it's the most controversial piece of evidence
that is collected because an insect flying in front of the lens can
cause you to get that, or dust particles or water droplets," Burns
said. "I personally believe some orbs are probably genuine. They may
be caused by a paranormal event, but we don't really have a base
line to determine what is the best orb. Or what's an insect. It is a
study that is very interesting and one that I have wanted to explore
more."
In the lower end of the cemetery, near a path often taken by UGA
students as a shortcut, Burns' thermometer showed a temperature of
about 4 to 5 degrees higher than at the entrance to the cemetery,
which is near its highest elevation. Not enough deviation, Burns
said, to really tell anything.
"I have been to where it dropped 30 degrees or more. I mean, just
(Bam!)" he said.
He recalled such an incident at a cemetery in Lawrenceville,
where he was visiting with a TV crew from an Atlanta station. His
thermometer showed 52 degrees on one side of the cemetery and he
could see a bank's digital thermometer across the way that also
stated 52 degrees. They went into the cemetery, where Burns recalled
he answered questions for the TV reporter and made a temperate
reading.
"I noticed it suddenly dipping down into the 40s - 42 degrees. A
10-degree change. And the lowest I recorded was 26 degrees and then
the temperature came back up," he said.
Burns said he actually has seen "full-bodied manifestations. It's
very rare," he said.
One was in a cemetery, another in a house and one in his own home
when he was in his 20s and living with his parents.
On that latter occasion, he said he opened his eyes from a deep
sleep and saw a woman and a small boy. The woman turned and walked
off.
"The little boy, holding a teddy bear, looked at me and smiled
and followed her. And they vanished," he said.
* * *
The results:
The recorders picked up an anomaly in the Tate home, according to
Burns. Parks listened to "electronic voice phenomenal" obtained on
the recorder and heard laughter and child-like giggles in the attic.
It also picked up an undetermined sound like a cry in the basement
inside a no-longer-used stairwell. Nothing of any noteworthiness was
picked up in the cemetery. Burns believes EVPs are among the most
compelling evidence paranormalists can gather, although in
mainstream science it is an unproved technique.
The Ghost Hounds was founded by Burns in Lawrenceville about
three years ago. It has about 500 subscribers, with most in the
metro Atlanta and North Georgia area. Results of this investigation
and others can be found at the group's Web site,
www.ghosthounds.com.
