Halloween is upon us, the feast of Samhain is almost
here and it is a time for breaking records
at Ghostvillage.com. In the last month we have broken all previous records for number of
hits, page views, and number of people who registered for the Town Square message boards. Thank you!
As a Halloween treat I have included at the bottom of this newsletter what I
feel is by far the scariest and most ghoulishly delightful poem that has ever
been written... by the original King of horror... Edgar Alan Poe. Turn the
lights low and read this on a dark, cold October night. Click
here to jump to it.
October 31 not only marks Halloween, but it's our official third anniversary.
You'll notice our home
page has donned its Halloween costume. If you haven't seen it, go there
soon, because on November first the design goes back to how it was.
It has taken three years but we are quickly growing into one of the very best and largest supernatural communities
on the Web. This newsletter will
also be making an evolution to include more information on what is going on in
other groups, research societies, and Web sites. If you have supernatural news,
such as a conference you are holding, a group your are forming, etc. please keep
us informed. Email your information to: email@example.com.
Ghosts of the Prairie
Troy Taylor asked me to pass this on to my fellow Ghostvillagers:
The Ghosts of the Prairie website offers a free weekly email newsletter called the
"Haunted America Update". Edited by author Troy Taylor, it's delivered right to your
mailbox and contains information on ghosts, hauntings, strange phenomena, books, features
and articles, reference material, updates, information on events, conferences and
meetings, the American Ghost Society, specials and discounts for subscribers only and
much more! It's free to sign up, just email us at firstname.lastname@example.org and ask to be
added to the mailing list!
The Smoking Gun Research Agency
Jon Nowinski, Ph.D Parapsychology,
director of The Smoking Gun Research Agency, asked me to include the following: The
SGRA will be publishing its October "Eyes Only" magazine -- it
features 22 pages on the paranormal (this month's issue also includes one of my
columns). To get a copy email Jon at: email@example.com.
Ghost Chat is changing... just a little bit. First, we will be holding our
annual Halloween Ghost Chat tomorrow night. I know we had originally said it
would be October 31, but we realized many of you have plans that don't
necessarily involve being in front of a computer.
So stop by tomorrow night from 8 P.M. E.S.T. until whenever. In the
future, we will hold a formal "Ghost Chat" twice per month and include
special guests such as authors and other ghost researchers. Click
here to see announcements regarding the next ghost chats.
Since our last newsletter we have only received $10 in donations. The $10 is
greatly appreciated and will certainly help, but we need more. At our present
rate of growth we will outgrow our Web servers within two to five months and to
keep things going and growing we will have to pay more. All I ask is that you
put a dollar value on what you get out of Ghostvillage.com. If you visit
everyday, enjoy the columns and newsletters, pictures, and EVPs, place a value
on that and give accordingly. I don't want anyone braking their bank for
this, but consider the price of a movie... $8. Is it worth $8 per year to
you? A movie is over in under two hours, and we're here 24x7.
|Thank You, Thank You, Thank You
If you would like to help out, you can donate
here. Remember, even one dollar helps.
So far we have put out four columns and I would like to thank all of you who
have written in with comments. The column will continue to evolve as we go along
and I always welcome your input. If you have had an experience with a pet or
animal spirit, I would like to hear from you. Please email
|Legends of the Supernatural
Also, for those Ghostvillagers who live in Norfolk county, Massachusetts you can
read my "History of Halloween" column in this Thursday's Country
If you know of a publication that may
be interested in running the column as a feature, drop me a line.
Our library is growing! More people have submitted reviews, and I expect more
books in the mail shortly. If you are a publisher or author looking to submit
your book for review, please contact me.
And if you see that someone else reviewed a book that you have also read, please
add your comments by submitting your own review.
|New Books in the Supernatural Library
Shadow Chasers: The Woolfolk Tragedy Revisited by Carolyn Deloach
of the Northeast by David J. Pitkin
We receive a lot of encounters and not all are published. A very common
"encounter" we see is something to the affect of, "I was in my
room and the door slammed by itself... I'm looking for some answers."
I have some answers for you, but you may not like them... maybe it was the wind?
Is your window open? was there a cross-draft in your house? etc. When you
write to us, please give as much detail as possible. I'm not sure how many
questions can be answered, but hopefully others will see similarities in their
own experiences and might possibly have some insight for you.
If you have an encounter, please share it by clicking here.
Mystery Mammal - Brooklyn, Connecticut
Birthday Wish from the Other Side - Ottawa, Canada
T.J. the Traveling Ghost - Baton Rouge, Louisiana
Hallway Orbs - Chicago, Illinois
Woman in the Window - Lakeland, Florida
Father Ghost - Somerset West, Cape Town, South Africa
"There's Nothing Good to Say" - Gettysburg, Pennsylvania
Bedroom Wall Entity - Tellico Plains, Tennessee
Summer Camp Cabin Monster - Trenton, Ontario, Canada
Since our last newsletter, we have had a record number of new people join us in the Town Square --
224 in only a month! WOW! Please welcome:
Ghost_King, and amoonshadow
8,729 Messages in the Town Square Message Boards
|Ghostvillage.com Quick Stats:
867 Members in the Town Square
52 "Encounters" listed so far in 2002
231 Paranormal Web sites in the Ghost Search directory
1,253 Subscribers to this newsletter.
Shop, or buy
a super-cool Ghostvillage.com
t-shirt. It all helps make our community bigger and better.
Please email us anytime at firstname.lastname@example.org.
Your comments and feedback are always welcomed.
Mayor of Ghostvillage.com
by Edgar Allan Poe
First Published in 1845
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore,
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door.
" 'Tis some visitor," I muttered, "tapping at my chamber door;
Only this, and nothing more."
Ah, distinctly I remember, it was in the bleak December,
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow; vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow, sorrow for the lost Lenore,.
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore,
Nameless here forevermore.
And the silken sad uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me---filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
" 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door,
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door.
This it is, and nothing more."
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
"Sir," said I, "or madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is, I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you." Here I opened wide the door;---
Darkness there, and nothing more.
Deep into the darkness peering, long I stood there, wondering, fearing
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortals ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word,
Lenore?, This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word,
"Lenore!" Merely this, and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping, something louder than before,
"Surely," said I, "surely, that is something at my window lattice.
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore.
Let my heart be still a moment, and this mystery explore.
" 'Tis the wind, and nothing more."
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately raven, of the saintly days of yore.
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door.
Perched upon a bust of Pallas, just above my chamber door,
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
"Though thy crest be shorn and shaven thou," I said, "art sure no craven,
Ghastly, grim, and ancient raven, wandering from the nightly shore.
Tell me what the lordly name is on the Night's Plutonian shore."
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
Much I marveled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning, little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blessed with seeing bird above his chamber door,
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as "Nevermore."
But the raven, sitting lonely on that placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered; not a feather then he fluttered;
Till I scarcely more than muttered, "Other friends have flown before;
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before."
Then the bird said, "Nevermore."
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
"Doubtless," said I, "what it utters is its only stock and store,
Caught from some unhappy master, whom unmerciful disaster
Followed fast and followed faster, till his songs one burden bore,---
Till the dirges of his hope that melancholy burden bore
But the raven still beguiling all my sad soul into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore --
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking "Nevermore."
Thus I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl, whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom's core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion's velvet lining that the lamplight gloated o'er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamplight gloating o'er
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by seraphim whose footfalls tinkled on the tufted floor.
"Wretch," I cried, "thy God hath lent thee -- by these angels he hath
Sent thee respite---respite and nepenthe from thy memories of Lenore!
Quaff, O quaff this kind nepenthe, and forget this lost Lenore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore!"
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil!--prophet still, if bird or devil!
Whether tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate, yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted--
On this home by horror haunted--tell me truly, I implore:
Is there--is there balm in Gilead?--tell me--tell me I implore!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
"Prophet!" said I, "thing of evil--prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that heaven that bends above us--by that God we both adore--
Tell this soul with sorrow laden, if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden, whom the angels name Lenore---
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden, whom the angels name Lenore?
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
"Be that word our sign of parting, bird or fiend!" I shrieked, upstarting--
"Get thee back into the tempest and the Night's Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken! -- quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!"
Quoth the raven, "Nevermore."
And the raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon's that is dreaming.
And the lamplight o'er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted---nevermore!
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