Ghosthunting Southern California. Sally Richards
kinds of energy-pit locations. Some seek them out looking for proof of a life beyond death, whether that be ghosts, demons, inert energy (the soul), or parallel universes in the form of vortexes. My team seeks it out—we feel it, we explore it, we document it, and we compile proof to convince others that energy beyond death exists. A point comes when no further proof is needed to convince ourselves, but rather we are ready present the proof to others and start them on their own journeys.
So, why are people compelled to search for existence of The Beyond? I suppose it’s because we all have one thing in common—one day we will all find the truth. Is it more comforting to find out beforehand? Will it convince us to live in the here and now? Is it fear? Or, are we just curious by nature with our mortality staring us in the face from the moment we learn to reason. Whatever your reason, you’re here now. My job from this moment on is to give you the straight-up accounts of some of the truth I have encountered, narratives that may set you on your own paranormal trek to look for your own truths about what happens in The End. Not the end of this book, but rather the mother of all The Ends—the end of you, of me, of life as we know it. We are creatures of habit. We don’t even like the thought of our daily routine being canceled by inconvenience, let alone death. There’s one question you have to ask yourself before reading this book: Do you really want to know? If your answer is Yes, then this book will end the world as you know it.
So after all that, if you’re still compelled to find out what lies beyond the veil, I can only guess it’s because of a personal experience you’ve had; something you’ve seen or heard but cannot explain even after rolling it over in your mind a couple thousand times. Maybe you’re even losing sleep over it. This book has more than thirty locations where you may be able to find the kind of energy you can work with to pursue your ongoing paranormal learning experiences.
As you read this, a couple of your own places probably come to mind. For many people, their own homes have become rife with the kind of energy prime for investigation, but not necessarily because their homes are truly haunted, but rather because they themselves have begun drawing this type of energy to themselves. Believe me, people can be more haunted than any castle. If you’re looking for locations but can’t get to the ones listed in this book, the case studies contained here can be used as a primer for investigation skills, as they are filled with practical advice on technique, tools, and advice—it’s all here. The rest will come intuitively.
Ghosthunting Southern California was created from the most compelling investigations of publicly accessible locations (some infamous for being haunted, others making their first appearance) I’ve found in Southern California. I’ve gone to these locations with my team and others to find out the history, the characters involved (both past and present), and why on earth someone would leave that wonderful Perfect Sleep that I found when I drowned only to hang out to contact—and sometimes terrify—those left behind. I discuss the equipment used, the evidence found, and the best times to seek places out (it’s not very often in the dead of night)—and provide a detailed description of the investigation with interviews of those involved. Though the firsthand accounts in this book may prompt you to sleep with the night-light on, I hope you instead choose to flip the light switches off and endeavor to find out what lies in the murky darkness beyond.
Take my hand, and free-fall into a place you’ve never wanted to go to but can’t stop thinking about as soon as you hear the tree branches scratching on the window on a still night, when the floorboards bend under weight in a house where only you reside … or so you thought. Push yourself to analyze each chapter and its relevance to your own path, as there are connections all around us. You just need to continue searching for the truth and the dots will begin to connect. Be cautious, be open-minded but skeptical, and above all go into this as a learning experience, and you won’t be disappointed. I wish you luck on your journey to touch the Other Side, and I trust that you’ll find what you’re looking for.
I won’t leave the porch light on for you … it’s for your own good.
Enjoy the journey,
Sally Richards
Los Angeles, July 2012
Old Town San Diego
Old Town San Diego
Four Winds Trading Company (1)
CHAPTER 1
Four Winds Trading Company
OLD TOWN SAN DIEGO
Four Winds is visible from San Diego Avenue.
I HAD MY FIRST MAJOR San Diego paranormal experience in 2003 when I’d first moved to the city. I’d not yet gotten acclimated to the area and had to do some holiday shopping—I wasn’t clear where to go, but I knew I didn’t want to end up at a mall. My husband called and let me know he needed to work a little later than usual, and I asked him where I should do some shopping. He suggested I might like the atmosphere better in Old Town rather than the malls. I put Old Town, San Diego, into the GPS, followed the directions, and ended up on a street filled with quaint shops and holiday revelers drinking and spreading good cheer. My GPS said, You have arrived at your destination. I pulled my Miata off into a tiny space in front of a cemetery on San Diego Avenue. As I got out of my car, my heel hitched on a curious, round brass marker in the street. I took my keychain penlight and shined it on the ground. The round marker read GRAVESITE. Spooky girl is off to a good start, I thought and smiled to myself, but not even I could imagine what my next encounter would be.
Walking down the street, I noticed the irritating smell of cigar smoke as I headed toward what seemed to be the center of town, and then the smell was gone. I looked into a shop and was intrigued by the amazing Native American artifacts that seemed to fill every space of the high-ceilinged store; I realized I should have brought the bigger car. The sign read FOUR WINDS TRADING.
I walked in and immediately saw potentially ten gifts; I was definitely in the right place. There were a few people perusing the store, and the woman at the counter was cheerfully helping them out. She said hello as I passed by, and I smiled and nodded. I already loved the store. A few more people came in behind me, and I walked the length of the store with Katsina carvings, fetishes of all sizes, jewelry from tribes across the country, antique weavings, and intricately beaded bags and dolls. The place was amazing. As I continued walking to the rear of the store, I suddenly walked into a wall of cigar smoke and could barely breathe. I started coughing and gave an angry look at the gentleman in a canvaslike duster jacket sitting like he owned the place in a large chair, one boot-clad leg crossed over his thigh. He puffed away on his cigar, blowing smoke in my direction. Intense eyes betrayed his smiling bearded face as he put his hand on his hat and tipped it to me.
My eyes shot daggers at him as I prepared to storm out of the store. By that time, the store had cleared out, and I couldn’t help but think the cigar smoke had something to do with it. I stopped to speak to the woman at the counter, “I was going to buy some things here tonight, but I can’t support a store that allows people to smoke cigars and smell up all these beautiful things!” I said indignantly. I hadn’t expected her response.
“You saw him?” she asked.
“You mean the jerk smoking the cigar? Kinda hard to miss. Yeah, he’s right over—” I swung around to point him out, but he was gone and, oddly enough, so was the smoke. I couldn’t smell or see even a trace of it. “What just happened?”
“You