As much as I enjoy a good story of the paranormal, especially a first hand account, I still believe it’s important for everyone, at some point, to
try to find the truth for them selves. I set out this summer to do just that. Loaded with a digital camera, digital voice recorder and a mini DVD
camcorder, I set out to find the truth.
The hunt began on June 21st, just across the border in Joplin Missouri. I suppose I should have taken my foray into the
Peace Church Cemetery
as a sign of things to come. Though the trip turned into a
complete disaster, it wasn’t enough to sway me from my quest. There were ghosts to be hunted and I’d leave no tombstone unturned until I found
After searching the web for a few weeks, looking for like-minded individuals, I met Clint who lived just up the road in Pea Ridge. Soon we were
hunting together and a new group was born. I chronicled the beginnings in Birth of a
Paranormal Research Group.
It was my second hunt in just a few weeks and though I personally hadn’t experienced anything paranormal, I was
One week later on July 22nd I was once again in an allegedly haunted cemetery.
Clint, His son Brandon and myself arrived just as the sun was setting, together we were going to find the ghosts of this sad little church and the
cemetery that lay behind it. Hours later, with my camera card full and the DVD running out of power we decided to call it a night.
A review of the evidence the next day revealed one lousy orb.
Now some of the other members had claimed to be touched and there was actually evidence to support that. Others were getting EVP’s on the
recorders, though I couldn’t hear them. That’s probably on me though; I’ve had severe tinnitus since the day they took out my wisdom teeth. A
ghost would have to be dressed up like Al Jolson and singing “My Dear old Mammy’ for me to read it’s lips.
I’d been ghost hunting for over a month now and had yet to find so much as smudge in a picture. I was beginning to suspect the spirit world
didn’t like me.
I wasn’t quite ready to give up just yet, and on July 31st I was once again on the hunt. This time a friend, Craig, and myself headed out to
The Old Spanish Treasure Cave.
Once again I came up empty handed.
Depression was setting in.
Regardless of the stories others told, I could find no sign of the paranormal. The doubts were weighing down on me like the old hag during sleep
paralysis. If something didn’t show itself soon, there would simply be no point in going on.
On August 26th my spirits had lifted and I was once again ready to give it another shot. Clint, myself and several other members of what was now
known as Pea Ridge Paranormal
had gathered for a night of ghost hunting at the old
It had long since ceased to be an actual mortuary and was now more of a storage facility for a band. The place was pretty cool to hang out in and for
the first time the group had electricity at our disposal. We could run cameras from the next-door staging area into the facility and watch as the
action unfolded. My DVD camera was set up to cover the old bleed out room.
We learned a valuable lesson that night. With the bright IR cameras at the front of the mortuary, anyone walking inside would cast shadows, even
though it was pitch black to the human eye. Those shadows were being picked up by my camera, which rendered everything it recorded moot.
I had struck out again.
I was quickly running out of summer and still had nothing to prove or disprove the existence of the paranormal.
By now Pea Ridge Paranormal had met another group, Paranormal Research of the Ozarks, and the two groups had decided to become one. Our first hunt
together was quickly approaching.
On September 17th we met at the Metfield Grill in Bella Vista Arkansas. There were plenty of ghost stories about the place, including people’s
ashes being spread in the pond out back. Glasses moved on their own, apparitions were seen and noises heard. That still didn’t prepare me for the
grill itself. This wasn’t a grill; it was a Swiss Chalet! The place was huge.
The group itself was showing signs of really coming together as well. Working together to set up the equipment and prepare for the hunt was almost as
fun and entertaining as the hunt itself. It was starting to look quite impressive.
I’d love to sit here and tell you that I finally found the ghosts or spirit energy that I had spent the summer searching for, but that’s not to
be. The last hunt of the season found me sitting in a pitch-black room, talking to myself.
Was it worth it? Absolutely. Along the way I met many wonderful people, learned things I had not even imagined and lost all fear I ever had of the
dark. I wouldn’t exchange the adventures I lived through this summer for anything.
I think for me though, this journey is coming to an end. My curiosity for the time being is sated. I’ve learned that if the paranormal does exist,
it wants nothing to do with me. I can live with that.
Should you ever get the chance to team up with a paranormal research group and go out on a ghost hunt, I would highly advise that you take the road
of adventure. Life is too short to do otherwise.
All too soon you will be on the side they are trying to contact.