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Thanksgiving Leftover
HAPPINESS is
thanksgiving
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Artistic Talents Commended
Pictured above are Teresa Bagley, Alice Corn, Wanda Burrus and Donna Smith with the
poster they made for the lunchroom bulletin board at the Cumming Upper Elementary
School.
Remember Christmas Card Contest
REMEMBER TO SEND OR BRING YOUR CHRISTMAS CARD ENTRY BY
THE NEWS OFF ICE BY DECEMBER 19. THERE WILL BE THREE PR I ZES
IN EACH AGE GROUP FOR THE BEST ENTRY UNDER "RELIGIOUS",
"CONTEMPORARY", AND "COMICAL". ALSO A PRIZE OFFERED IN
EACH AGE GROUP FOR THE CARD WHICH USES THE MOST IN
TERESTING AND CREAT IVE MATERIAL. see front page story
Ghosts and hauntings
do you believe in them? Come,
let me make a believer of you.
At the risk of being alarming,
I invite you to take a trip
into the unknown.
Recently I became acquain
ted with a young man who lives
in this area who appears to
have clairvoyant powers. He
has mastered the art of medi
tation and can, on occasions,
seem to get glimpses into the
future. He has been on ghost
hunting trips with people who
share his interests and he be
lieves that they have contacted
spirits.
When I heard about him, I
knew nothing about psychic ph
enomena, so I began to read,
and the more I read, the more
I felt that this type of spirt
ualism was based on true ex
periences. I found that some of
the church leaders of today,
psychologists, and other men
of learning were beginning to
view Spiritualism in a very
serious manner.
I made plans with this young
man and others who were in
terested to go on a ghost hunt.
And we did. What happened is not
the story I want to tell you
now, but I will say that at that
time I definitely felt that some
thing psychic happened.
But the story I am about to
tell to you, happened last week
end. After our first attempt at
ghost hunting, the same group
of people with two additional
persons, decided to go to an old
house and try to contact the
spirit world. What happened
there? Who knows. What I am
going to tell to you now are
those accounts by different peo
ple stating what happened that
night. The first is mine. We
went into the room we had se
lected to use and one of our
group closed the door. Our
candle was placed on a table
that had been left in the room.
It was in a plastic, clear glass
and the flame was protected
yet could be seen.
Everyone took their places
around the room. I stood against
the wall, there was a person
on my right and another on my
left. Beyond, was another
member of the group, making
four of us lined at various in
tervals against the wall. The
fifth member of the party sea
ted himself on an old trunk near
the door and in front of a fire
place and the last member se
ated herself on the floor be
neath the table with the can
dle.
At this point, let me explain
about this house. It was an old
one, built around the turn of
the century with very small
rooms and alot of hollow space
in the walls. The downstairs
had a long hallway with rooms
on both sides and an even more
narrow staircase rising up at
the rear of the hallway. The
wood in the house had been well
preserved and with some re
pair it could be made livable
again.
Upstairs were three rooms.
At the top of the staircase on
either side of the hallway were
two bedrooms. Both had been fi-
lled with various forms of li
tter, magazines, paper, old cl
othes and one had a mattress
on the floor. Apparently at some
time a tramp had slept in the
house. The back room was not
littered and there were several
pieces of furniture still there.
Also, there were no broken
windows in this room or we
thought. Later we discovered
that one window did have a
broken pane. We selected this
room because it was fairly
warm and free of drafts.
The young man I spoke of
earlier, who we had accepted as
our natural leader told us to be
ver y quiet and to try to con
centrate on someone we had
known who was now dead or to
think of spirits in general who
might have died in the house
at one time or another. We
settled down and the quietness
of the house settled about us.
A dog barked somewhere far
ther up the road several times
and then became quiet. The
candle flickered from time to
time as the draft from the bro
ken window across from me
caught at it. Then the house be
gan to creak. It creaked and it
creaked and each creak was
different and came from a dif
ferent place. We all heard it
and several of us mentioned
that the house was just settl
ing down. Then our leader de
clared that he felt something
was trying to come into the
house, that he had begun to
feel a definite pull from the
area of his solar plexis which
he told us was a source of
energy spirits used when con
tacting the living. (Later ano
ther member of the group adm
itted that she had felt the same
thing.) He said we must con
tinue to concentrate - which we
did. The creaking continued and
then two members of the gr
oup closest to the door said
that they heard either a moan
or a groan from the downst
airs of the house. I did not
hear it nor did the rest.
As the noises of the house
continued, one of the group,
trying to keep his courage up,
would say, “Oh, that’s good.
That’s coming on real good.”
in a playful way. Then he said
the name of a person we had
seen on some papers down
stairs and a rustling noise so
unded in the corner fartherest
from us. It could have been a
rat and sounded rather like
one and I mentioned this.
Then I felt a coldness pass
my legs where they were bare.
I t passed from the right of
me to the left and a minute or
two later returned. I began to
watch the candle to see if this
was the draft but it did not
correspond with the movemen
ts of the candle. I didn’t feel
it on my hands and face which
were bare, too. The coldness
passed by me four' time, to
and fro. I mentioned it and the
member on my right said that
he felt it too, but on the face.
Later I felt it on my hand,
but only there.
There were more creaking
noises from the stairs this
time. I stated again that it
Reality Or Illusion - - - The Psychic World Beckons
By: Sara Flint
could be a rat. Our leader
said that something was de
finitely trying to come.
Then suddenly a tremendous
wind came up. It seemed to
come roaring up from a long
distance. It moved toward the
house, enveloped it and yet did
not disturb it too much. When
it had built to a sort of pin
acle at our room, a magazine
left on the table by the candle
began to flutter its pages. The
candle did not flutter more than
usual.
Then, a very unusual noise
occurred in the hallway. It was
such a definite sound that it
could not have been anything im
agined and everyone in the group
heard it. To me, it seemed to
be the sound of feet dragging
across the floor; not heavily
but scraping.
The member by the door
commented shakely, “Can gh
osts commi t mass murder?”
and suddenly the noise in the
far corner began again.
Then our leader turned on
the flashlight and we found that
during all of these events, un
known to us, the door to the
room had silently opened. We
exited immediately andwhenwe
were again outside we disco
vered that there was no wind.
It had gone.
Second story:
“We went into the room and
closed the door and set the
candle down. We decided all
would be quiet and concentrate
so we did.
I didn’t pay any attention
really, then I started to con
centrate very hard on some
one I knew who had died re
cently.
Two of us said that they heard
a moan from the downstairs. I
didn’t hear it. A few seconds
later, I felt a breeze —light—
touching my cheeks - and then
we all talked awhile. Then I
started concentrating in earn
est and the breeze became st
ronger. I was standing with
my hands stuck in the front of
my sweater and could only feel
the breeze on my cheek. I
wasn’t cold.
I continued to concentrate
very, very hard and almost
got a headache. I was saying
the name of this person, say
ing it, willing it to come, say
ing it over and over again in
my mind and mentally pictur
ing this person. I said, "Do
something. Show us you are
here!” again and again.
Then I looked up and the big
wind began to rise outside. It
came in a big gust. A book or
magazine on the table by the
candle began to turn its pages.
I moved toward it trying to
see where it would stop but when
it did stop i t began to turn
again the other way.
Then, I think, was when I
really became afraid of what
might happen and I started say
ing “Don’t do anything—please
don’t do anything.” I tried to
quit concentrating but I just
couldn’t and then this wind
seemed to come across the
house and I heard something
scrape outside the door in the
hallway. I was so scared I didn’t
Bullet Is Dead But Fondly Remembered
A real thorough-bred pointer
named “Bullet” isdeadandnow
his masters, Jody and Chris
Durand, are sad. Neither of
these little boys can remember
when Bullet wasn’t a part of
their lives. Jody is class re
porter for his school newspaper
and thinks the life of a king
like Bullet should be mentioned.
The two boys were at Ches
tatee School in Forsyth County
when Bullet met with his acc
ident, the accident wH.;h proved
fatal and brought an end to his
very active life. While playing
in the woods with his former
trainer, the boys’ father, who
was cutting some dead trees
with a chain saw, the dog was
injured last Wednesday, Nov.
sth, by a falling tree and died
less than an hour later. The
boys’ Mother said she’d often
seen the boys with their arms
around Bullet and him wagging
his tail, just happy to be to
gether.
Bullet was good - natured,
humble and obedient and hardly
ever had to be scolded; he was
a true friend of all people who
knew him, meeting and greeting
them with his wagging tail. He
was known and admired by many
people as far away as New York,
the Florida Keys and the Navy
Base in Cuba. He was known
on the Army Base at Fort
Benning, where he’d spent ha
ppy hunting trips with military
personnel and other sportsmen
over the 30 miles of Fort Be
nning’s Reservation. Many le
ading sportsmen throughout
north and south Georgia and
Alabama, admired him and tra
veled many miles to watch him
in the fields with his profess
ional skill, tracking down and
hear what anyone else was say
ing or anything. I said we should
leave.
After we started home, I
felt that something outside was
looking at us knowing we
were trying to find out some
thing about what it was or its
condition -- and was amused.
When the wind came through,
that scared me and I couldn’t
concentrate and the wind kept
getting stronger and I really
felt tha t something bad was
about to happen.”
Third story:
I didn’t notice the moon out,
but the stars we re* bright. The
sky was clear. It was cold,
and we milled down the road
from where we had parked the
car out of sight. We joked a
bit. Our leader was put in
charge of the flashlight. Car
headlights beamed up over the
approaching hill. We hid from
sight. Laughing, we ripped up
the bank, entered through a
broken window and realized we
were actually inside this old
house!
The house seemed still. We
explored it - got the feel of
the people who had been there.
No loud noises were notice
able. Several cars passed by—
we discovered names on corr
espondence downstairs, a 1965
and a 1966 newspaper. We star
ted upstairs, reached the top,
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winding wild quail. During the
summer he liked to frolic and
play and climb aboard water
craft, boats, pontoons, etc., and
sail wide and deep waters with
his masters and friends and
explore the islands on Lake
Lanier. One of his favorite
hobbies was retrieving tor
toises, or the common old ter
rapins.
Bullet was known to have but
one enemy and that was the
snake, especially poisonous
ones, whioh might be in the path
of his young masters; he was
often known to attack and sling
a snake into pieces when some
one would approach too close
to the snake. But aside from all
his fun and play, when he went
into the fields when the wild
quail season opened, he was like
a true General - he seemed to
take great pride in his pro
fessional skill, coming in on
windward sides of nervous quail
and explored the rooms there.
The room that was nearest
the street on the right was
cold. We found another news
paper in very good condition
dated December 19, 1941, The
back right room was equipped
with an attic entrance in a
corner and it was not espec
ially cold. Finally we were all
in the room - still it didn’t
seem particularly cold.
I sat down directly across
from one of the others who
was sitting by the door and I
was down in front of the can
dle. It had been placed on
some kind of table. Everyone
appeared clearly to me. At
first we sat still, the swall
owing and sniffing prominent
as all of us became aware of
the stillness about us. But soon
the house noises proceeded.
There was a tremendous pull
on my stomach, I felt no dr
aft. I watched the person ac
ross from me until I seemed
to see little nerve dots. Then
I looked down at the floor,
glancing frequently at the win
dow. Someone cracked some
jokes, otherwise we were quiet.
Our leader commented on a
noise downstairs which I didn’t
hear.
Others commented on an in
consistant draft they felt and
we settled down into the quiet
and the flickering of the can
dle.
and approaching the closest
possible point without flushing
the birds, and then waiting,
frozen still and silent for his
human sportsman to come, flush
and shoot over him, the fast
flying birds. Then, at the sp
ortsman’s command , or the
shout of “dead bird”, sniffing
with his strongly-scented nose,
he would pick up and retrieve
what birds had been hit, winged,
wounded or dead.
Many hunters and sportsmen
had a great desire to own Bul
let, and offered lots of money
for his purchase, only to be
told he wasn’t for sale, and that
he would stay with his owners
as long as he lived - and that
he did. He is buried in a grassy
spot beneath the shadows of a
dogwood tree on a slope of
Lake Lanier. Bullet will, no
doubt, be remembered by many
and forgotten by few who knew
him.
Suddenly it hit me, a slap
across the right cheek; cold,
cold air it was kind of
frightening. We all talked more
then settled into silence. Our
leader told us to concentrate.
He said, “Let’s all bring a
spirit,” I tried concentrating
on the names we had seen down
stairs. I didn’t concentrate by
just thinking the name, I beg
ged them. I could feel the per
son across from me against
the wall begin to shake. I heard
a ticking near the window be
hind me and the buff of the
wind against the house. It so
unded like it was behind me.
I couldn’t concentrate; my mind
wandered. The person across
from me began to say names
and when he would say one, a
noise sounded in the corner
by the attic. Then I heard a
noise. It sounded like paper be
ing pulled out of something.
At first I thought it was a dog,
but no, it couldn’t be. I heard
it two more times. It was the
effect of newspaper being pul
led out of something. It seemed
to come from the top left room.
My mind wandered. I imagined
people in the house, cornering,
killin g us. Our leader said
something. We all talked. So
meone talked about mass mur
der. Then, I thought I saw it—
white, like a figure - or an
open window, an illusion of
that. I blinked; strained my eyes
THE FORSYTH COUNTY NEWS -DECEMBER 4, 1969-
Some People Don’t Know
Good Thing When They-
m
‘ See It
This frustrated young man is Timothy Lee Bennett
who is celebrating his second birthday with mixed
emotions. His parents are Mr. and Mrs. Roy Ben
nett. The event took place at the home of his gra
ndparents, Mr. and Mrs. Ed Puckett of Gainesville.
Remember, Safe Driving
May Be Life Saving . . .
hard. It was still there. It
continued and continued to re
main there.
Suddenly our leader decided
to flick on the light. He did.
The door had opened. It had
not been open before. I still
saw those weird white things.
Funny though, I hadn’t seen
them before. There was a small
piece of paper, cardboard lying
by the door to the room we
were in in the hall. It had not
been there before.
We started down the stairs,
out of the house and to the
road safe!
The next day we went back
to the house to see just what
further evidence we could find.
We found that the noise in the
corner was evidently caused
by the wind (from that one
broken window) blowing through
an old book. Why it only made
the noise when we were at a
significant point, who can say—
coincidence? Again, we found
that the room at the top of the
stairs had its door closed, and
the night before when we went
into the back room, we had left
it open. In front of the closed
door was a child’s tennis shoe.
None of us could remember
having seen that shoe the night
before and we tried to deter
mine it the wind had pushed
the door closed and with it, the
shoe, making the noise we had
PAGE 4
heard. If this had happened, a
folded cardboard box would have
been swept out along with the
shoe, but it was still there.
The concluding feeling I have
about the night’s adventures,
is this: many things happened
and there are alot of explan
ations and coincidences but
when there are so many coin
cidences, do they cease to be
coincidences?
As the philosopher, William
James, once said in his book on
Psychical Research: “For tw
enty five years I have been in
touch with the literature of
psychical research, and have
had the acquaintance with num
erous “researchers.” I have
also spent a good many hours
in witnessing phenomena. Yet
I am theoretically no “further”
than I was at the beginning;
and I confess that at times
I have been tempted to believe
that the Creator has eternally
intended this department of na
ture to remain baffling, to pr
ompt our curiosities and hopes
and suspicions all in equal mea
sure, so that, although, ghosts
and clairvoyances, and raps
and messages from spirits, are
always seeming to exist and can
never be fully explained away,
they also can never be susc
eptible of full corroboration.”
What do you think?