Showing posts with label USS Hornet. Show all posts
Showing posts with label USS Hornet. Show all posts

Saturday, October 17, 2009

A Case for Ghosts: When Kids See the Supernatural -- Ghost Gab Week, Day 4

I’m what you’d call a skeptical believer. I think most supernatural experiences can be explained by natural causes like the wind, a house settling, other living people, and concentrated quantities of electromagnetic frequencies (EMF) which make people feel uneasy (EMFs are said to be given off by ghosts who draw on the energy around them in order to manifest. EMF is found in pretty much any device which uses or produces energy [electrical boxes, generators, cell phones, etc.]).

It’s easy to sway adults by the power of suggestion. Tell them they’re in a haunted house and they’ll assume the things they hear and experience are attributed to the other side. But children who don’t know the meaning of words like haunted and ghosts aren’t subject to the power of suggestion. Are the things they see real or imagined?

In April 2008, I took my children for a tour of the USS Hornet, an aircraft carrier that participated in World War II and in the recovery of the Apollo 11 space mission. This massive ship saw some of the toughest battles during the war in the Pacific. Today it’s a museum docked peacefully in Alameda, Calif. with numerous retired aircraft perched on its upper deck. It was a dream come true for my boys to be able to visit a real ship and touch real fighter planes.

An added bonus for me: the USS Hornet is also known for its numerous hauntings. This is a little fact I did not share with my boys on the trip. At six years old, my older son knew what ghosts were. My two year old had no idea what ‘ghost’ or ‘haunted’ meant and I intended to keep it that way for as long as possible. Little did I know that fate was about to force my hand in the matter.

After touring the vessel, I took my two year old to the bathroom located in the bow. The restrooms were at the end of a long, neutral-colored corridor void of any decorations. As we neared the end of the empty hallway, my son came to an abrupt stop. I asked him what was wrong and he shook his head. I tugged on his hand to pull him forward but he resisted forcefully and stepped backwards. I looked at him and realized his eyes were fixated on the corner of the hallway where it bent to the left leading to the bathrooms’ entrances.

I knelt beside him as he continued to stare at whatever was in the completely empty corner. There were no shadows and no mirrors that could’ve cast a reflection. I saw nothing. While his face was twisted in the strangest look of fear, confusion, and interest, his eyes didn’t not budge from the corner.

Changing my line of questioning, I asked him what he was looking at. This time he replied, “soldier.” He knew this word from playing with his brother’s GI Joes and looking at the pictures of the ship’s soldiers which lined some of the rooms below deck. I asked him if the soldier was doing anything, and he shook his head. I told him to say “hi” to the soldier and he waved his hand quickly, bashfully. Reassuring him that he didn’t need to be afraid of the soldier, I was able to coax him closer to end of the hallway (his eyes never moved from the soldier) until we turned the corner to the bathroom and he rushed backwards smacking into the wall behind him and then he inched down the hall again when he looked into the corner beside him.

He explained that another soldier was standing at the very end of the hallway beside the men’s bathroom’s entrance. I told him to say “hi” to that soldier as well but he said that soldier was gone. Since the second apparition distracted him sufficiently, I was able to pull him into the women’s bathroom. As I was about to change his diaper, he stopped me. He pointed to the wall across from us in the bathroom, and said “soldier.” Apparently, the first soldier followed us into the bathroom.

If you’ve ever had the feeling that someone’s watching you, imagine being watched while you’re in a bathroom. Eventually the soldier disappeared through the far wall beside one of the stalls (as my son explained to me) and I was able to finish up with him. Two things struck me as odd. First, I felt an eerie presence from the minute I stepped onto the ship. I chalked it up to the power of suggestion since I knew some of the ship’s haunted history. In the bathroom, the hair on my neck and arms was standing on end and I felt we weren’t alone, though there were no living presences anywhere near us. Second, my son hadn’t reached the age of “storytelling” yet—the age when kids begin to invent stories to explain things. He was terrified and intrigued by whatever he saw and he didn’t move his eyes from the apparition until it was completely gone.

I have no explanation for what happened that day other than to say he experienced something supernatural. A ghost? Maybe. Maybe not. I see ghosts as residual energy, a person who left an imprint of themselves on a particular area which replays itself and doesn’t interact with people. To me, a spirit is capable of communicating with the living. And why do I think this? Because about 27 years prior to my son’s experience, the same thing happened to me.

It was late at night and I was wide awake. I had to go to the bathroom and screamed for my mom to take me—I hated the dark. So she walked me into the bathroom and as I was staring at the red towels hanging off of the rack, a bright light flashed in front of me. In the middle of the bright, white light, a beautiful, perfect child’s face appeared. He wasn’t a baby, but he wasn’t an older child either. Perhaps a toddler. He had creamy skin and rosy cheeks and his auburn hair gleamed with golden highlights. He spoke to me but I was too preoccupied with being terrified at the unexpected sight to hear what he was saying. Then as quickly as he appeared, he vanished. I turned to my mom and explained what I could. Being so young, I was only able to really say ‘light’ and ‘pretty baby.’ Still, she validated my vision by listening to my story. Years later she told me that she couldn’t see what I saw, but she knew something was happening because my eyes were wide open, fully aware, and transfixed.

Was my vision a ghost? I don’t think so. He was actively speaking to me and there was truly nothing terrifying about him. Spirit? Perhaps. We still speculate as to who it might have been. I wonder if it was my older brother who passed away before I was born.

Regardless, my personal experience as a child cannot be dismissed as a figment of imagination. I was too young to know what ghosts, spirits, or even angels were at the time. All I knew was what I saw and I didn’t make that up.

Believe the stories or not. It doesn’t matter to me. I’m not out to convince others about the existence of ghosts; I only know what’s true for me. I’ve had a lifetime of experiences to tell me the supernatural is real in one form or another. Do I know exactly what’s out there? Nope. But I know this: something beyond our comprehension and logical reason does exist.