| Ghost Tours in 
          St. Augustine:A Fanciful Foray into Phantom
 Fantasy  Or Fright
 Story by Fyllis Hockman
 Photos by Victor Block
  t 450+ years, St. Augustine, Florida is America's oldest city. There's 
          a lot to recommend a city that old  history, ancient (for the 
          states) architecture, Spanish culture. And, of course, ghosts. A city 
          that old has a lot of history to haunt  a lot of death and despair 
          to permeate the landscape  and the spirits of St. Augustine are 
          sufficient to keep a multitude of ghost tour operators very busy.
 I tagged along on a couple. Outing #1 was a Ghosts and 
          Gravestones Trolley Tour. It's ironic that the tour begins right next to a Ripley's 
          Believe It or Not building. Just sayin'
. First ghost hunting tip: 
          go for the stormy weather, alleged by dedicated ghost hunters to provide 
          more energy for the "manifestations" to draw on. It was misty 
          that night: check. In the tour office hangs a Certificate of Haunting, 
          issued by the Port Orange Paranormal Society, officially identifying 
          the St. Augustine Old Jail, one of the tour stops, as "an authentically 
          'haunted' location
 based on audio, video and photographic evidence." 
          You can't argue with that! As we hopped on a bus, all dressed up for Halloween, 
          with about a dozen other eager seekers, we were instructed on the basics 
          of ghost sightings: look for little orbs with tails, a white light, 
          a shadow, an apparition in white (seems to be the preferred attire of 
          apparitions). At a cemetery fence, not surprisingly always a portal 
          for the undead, cameras were flashing and phones lighting up, one after 
          the other. "Why are they all taking pictures of the fence?" 
          inquired my always-skeptical husband. "There's nothing there." The 130-year old Potter's Wax Museum building we were 
          told was built over a cemetery, thereby explaining all the "energy." 
          I was beginning to pick up on the idea that energy was just a euphemism 
          for ghosts. Our guide talked of strange happening which by the end of 
          the night had become a mantra  footsteps heard, bottles falling, 
          objects flying. Combined with a lot of corny humor, it didn't help convince 
          me of the authenticity of the experience. As we walked through the museum, I suddenly felt a vibration 
          on my arm  a very intense vibration  and I quickly looked 
          around to see who or what "energy" might be near me. How disappointed 
          was I to discover it was only my Fitbit! Another 10,000 steps logged 
          but no other-worldly workout buddy to share it with. A re-enactment of an old pirate being felled by an executioner 
           with one of my tour compatriots assuming the role of the condemned 
           was great theater. But nothing compared to that of the Old Jail, 
          known as the Hanging Jail from 1871-1953, for the eight criminals who 
          hung from the gallows. A dramatic inmate told the stories of the sadly 
          deceased with great gusto playing out all the gory details of the crimes. 
          The impersonators were the best part of the tour but unfortunately they 
          were all very much alive! Someone claimed to get a picture of an orb  allegedly 
          a filmy white light with or without a tail  on her cellphone. 
          I looked through the bars into the same very dark cell and all I saw 
          was
well
 a very dark cell. However the marketing person employed 
          by the tour company sent me this photo taken on a tour of a nearby castle 
          in 2008: 
 She claims, "NO ONE was standing there in period 
          costume where the apparition appeared!" How to account for some of these specter sightings? 
          Shadows; specks of dust; reflections, overactive imaginations? But many 
          claim they capture images on their cameras that are unexplainable  
          ghosts trying to present themselves in recognizable spirit forms. Who 
          am I to argue? Given my own penchant for spirits (of the drinking variety), 
          it seemed a ghost-invaded pub crawl a good way to combine my spirits 
          with
 well
 theirs as part of my next phantom-filled adventure. Not often does my line of work require me to attend 
          an extended Happy Hour so when the opportunity to imbibe at four different 
          venues all in the name of research presented itself, well
 I felt 
          obligated
. Ergo: Ghost Tours of St. Augustine Creepy Crawley Pub 
          Crawl. Zombie martini, anyone? Brian, our tour guide and historic haunted site veteran, 
          passed out Electromagnetic Field Transmitters to aid in our search for 
          otherwise unrecognizable companions. Supposedly their energy is recorded 
          on the readers which tend to beep loudly in response. Or it could just 
          mean that there's a computer nearby. Hard to tell. As we walked the neighborhood, Brian advised us to ignore 
          the more modern establishments and focus on the historic ones -- all 
          the better to haunt you with, my dear  about which he regaled 
          us with stories. Claiming that the theory of ghosts is as polarizing 
          as politics (though probably not in 2016
), he said the spectrum 
          tilts 60-40 in favor of believers. "Ignore the skeptics," 
          he admonished. "That's not why you're here." As we walked 
          over streets that were built over cemeteries and past ongoing archeological 
          digs, he assured us that residual energies remain. Rarely, though, is 
          a ghost going to come up and say, "Hello, my name is Ralph and 
          I'm going to haunt you tonight." Instead, he admonished, you have 
          to acquaint yourself with a place and know what to look for  or 
          more accurately, "share the presence of."  Ghost hunting with EMF reader
 My creepy crawley comrades kept checking their EMF transmitters 
          to see if they'd connected with any external energies and then snapping 
          their cameras in the hopes of randomly catching them on film. Until 
          we got to the next bar, of course, and started imbibing again. For a 
          while I thought the liquid spirits were overtaking the more ethereal 
          ones. But then we moved on. The rash of squeals emitted from several transmitters 
          at the corner of Charlotte and Hypolito streets caught everyone's attention 
           equaled only by the story Brian then told of the murder there 
          on November 20, 1785 of William Delaney by a jealous rival. Now, I didn't 
          see Delaney's spirit anywhere but I also know this didn't happen at 
          any other intersection. Coincidence??? We were all more than happy to get to another bar for 
          more uplifting spirits. At Meehan's Irish Pub, the liquor is held in 
          place by wires because, as rumor has it, the bottles have more than 
          once inexplicably flown off the shelves. According to Kaiser, who has 
          been bartending there for four years, he has heard voices, seen lights 
          flicker, had the bathroom door stick for no apparent reason and claimed 
          sightings of a man in overalls. "If you don't believe in ghosts, 
          come work here," he invites.  Wires holding back bottles
 Similarly, Sara, a bartender at Scarlett O'Hara's, also 
          renowned as haunted, enthusiastically proclaims, "Oh yeah, I've 
          experienced everything." Those experiences, not surprisingly, range 
          from erratic lights, moving dishes, unseen voices and apparitions of 
          a woman in white (notice a pattern here?) and a man in a uniform. I 
          ordered yet another drink! It's hard not to be moved by all these stories. As skeptical 
          as I was when I began the trip, how do you dismiss the experiences  
          often so similar  of so many others? Or ignore some very real 
          tangible evidence ostensibly captured on film? I was left just shaking 
          my head a lot  and feeling somewhat reassured that overall, ghosts 
          seem to be a lot more playful than they are scary. The next day, glad to be done with ghosts for awhile, 
          I was doing more traditional sightseeing. When I mentioned to a curator 
          at a small museum that we were staying at the St. Francis Inn, the oldest 
          in St. Augustine, he asked in what room. I told him. "Ah then, 
          you're safe," he said, "as long as you're not in Lily's room." 
          Oh? When I returned to the Inn, I found that stories abound around Lily, 
          a most playful ghost who wanders the third floor searching for her lost 
          love, wrecking havoc with the other guests. As I've learned is usual 
          with ghosts, lights go on and off, bathroom locks get jammed, and objects 
          fly across rooms. I was beginning to feel right at home. I nodded toward 
          Lily, just in case SHE could see ME.  Lily's Room
 For more information, visit floridashistoriccoast.com; 
          ghosttoursofstaug.com, 
          www.trolleytours.com/st-augustine/ghost-tours-st-augustine.asp. Related Articles:Amelia 
          Island: A Town Time Forgot; Ghost 
          Hunting at Riverside Mission Inn; Belize: 
          A Central American Country that Doubles as a Caribbean Island; Key 
          West: There's a WHAT in the Backyard???
 (Posted 7-7-2016)
 
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