This post originally appeared in the Kenosha News as part of the column ‘Sundays Mornings With Basil Willis’ – November 14, 2010.

When the email came in I knew right away Beth would want to go. It was addressed to a group of friends, and below the “Are you guys in?” message was a link to a Wisconsin paranormal research group website. We were being invited to spend the night of October 30 in a haunted mansion in Janesville, learning about the tools and methodologies used by professional ghost hunters, and then spending the rest of the night and the morning hunting for ghosts on our own.

Everyone we told about this adventure had a strong reaction. The God-fearing, including Beth’s mom and best friend, both thought we were going to open a portal to hell and bring the devil or demons back to our house, and advised us against participating. Most, especially those who have seen the spate of paranormal shows on cable, thought it was pretty cool. Beth’s grandfather offered this sage nugget; “If you think you’re going to see ghosts, you will.”

I didn’t think we were going to see ghosts because I did not believe in them. Beth had a ghost experience about a decade ago, and I very much believe that she heard what she heard. I also believe the mind is a very powerful thing and can create perceptions and experiences that are as real as anything, especially during times of stress.

Despite my lack of faith, I was hoping something unexplained would happen; a disembodied voice, an apparition, the sounds of children giggling, finding our friends mutilated. Well, maybe not that, but something that would make the hair on the back of my neck stand on end. Even something bordering on the Blair Witch Project (except for the murders) would have been scary fun. It was less about communing with the dead than getting the poop scared out of me.

Beth and I donned the Ghostbusters outfits we wore out a few years ago and wondered aloud if any of the serious paranormal investigators would be offended. We downloaded ghost hunting apps for our iPhones, filled up a flask in case things got boring and headed to Janesville, which by itself is a little scary.

The hundred year old three-story Victorian was big and foreboding, but not a mansion. As we took pictures of our group in front of the house, a neighbor stopped and offered to take one of all of us. When she found out what we were doing she said, “You’re spending the night? In there?” For the first time since planning the trip, I felt a tinge of trepidation, as though my skeptical aloofness might be punished.

We met the investigators, a couple who were renting the house from owners looking to sell, and from 6 pm to 2 am were given lessons on the different types of paranormal research, the history of the house, the gear used and how to conduct research on our own. We broke up into groups, mapped the entire house and took baseline readings.

The array of monitoring devices was impressive. It turns out there is some real science behind paranormal research. There were a number of electromagnetic frequency (EMF) readers, temperature gauges, digital sound recorders, random number generators and even a Geiger counter. There were video cameras and microphones everywhere, and we were warned that being amorous on the premises would not be private. Apparently Beth and I weren’t the first ones to ponder that.

During this time we also participated in electronic voice phenomenon (EVP) readings. The group of twelve (half of which were our party) would sit in rooms with a sound recorder and in turn ask the ghosts questions. Sometimes, according to our hosts, you could play the recordings back and hear things that were not heard during the sessions. The EVPs were awkward as some people were obviously very serious about talking to ghosts.

Paranormal research boils down to this: you go to “haunted” places, set up all the gear and wait for something to happen. If you hear a voice or feel a chill, you mark the time and then compare those perceptions to the data being collected. If, for example, I saw a shadow at 4:20, and at the very same time the EMF readings went off the charts and all the random numbers came up odd and the temperature dropped, we would have ourselves an old fashioned unexplained phenomenon, supported by empirical evidence.

That night some of the people, the ones who seemed to most want something to happen, said they felt or heard things they could not explain. Beth and I agreed the house was the least haunted place either of us had ever been. We spent most of the night talking about how we would remodel it if we owned it.
Bored senseless, flask empty, we left the house, and our friends, at about 2:30 am to sleep in our own bed. Grandpa was right; our experiences are influenced by our expectations. I’m glad I went, it was interesting and adds to the tapestry that is my life, but I ain’t afraid of no ghosts. Maybe we shouldn’t have worn our Ghostbusters outfits.

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