I recently came across an older case of ours, the Magnolia Manor Bed & Breakfast. I wanted to talk about how overwhelming and difficult that evening in Tennessee was for us, but before I go all in I need to set this up a little. First and foremost, I loved this place and the fact that it was so close to home. I could not wait to do more investigations just like this one, possibly at this location. Little did I know, shortly after this exploration our team would split up and move to opposite ends of the US. Secondly this place IS haunted. No, that is not capitalized and underlined by mistake. I feel that certain areas in Tennessee are darkly overcast by deep ancient emotions. The kind of emotions that physically saturate the earth. This area was so rich with this bleak history that you could feel it the moment you step out on it... or at least we could.
I'm not going to detail our ghost hunt at this time, I'll save that for a later entry. For now I want to discuss our first night sleeping in a haunted B&B. We envisioned that this would come easy, this being our first time actually attempting to rest at a location. We quickly learned that the line of communication is not so easily broken once opened... We were provided a cabin outside of the beautiful historic home in Bolivar, and were told that nothing is normally reported to happen inside it. The adorable cabin was complete with a full kitchen, living room and bedroom with an en suite. It would have been the perfect place to rest, had it not flourished with the spirits from the past . The cabin came alive after our visit in the main house had finished, and not at all before.
With this in mind I was left to question whether this was due to our technique. Had he been engrossed with the fact that we paid him so much attention? Was there something else that he wanted to get off of his chest? In my mind, the spirit we had captivated was a male. At different times throughout that evening we captured the voice of a man, so I lean towards this being the same spirit. After our ghost exploration, we performed a closing ceremony back inside the cabin. Expecting to have a peaceful evening, we packed up our gear and got ready for bed. But this night, we would not sleep. We laid there listening as the heavy steps approached our room from the hallway outside our door. We heard the large floor vent in the middle of the hall being stomped on. And if that wasn't enough for one evening, we heard something scratching at the bedroom door. I don't know how or why the door to our room refrained the spirit from entering, but it did. We sat there eyes wide in the darkness watching the door. Waiting for the antique brass doorknob to turn, or jiggle, or shift even the slightest. That night he never even attempted to open the door. He continued pacing the long hallway inside the cabin as if waiting for us to come back out and continue our questioning. It was a very restless night, and as the sun rose I remember feeling sore from laying in the same uncomfortable situation all night.
The owners made eggs Benedict in the morning and sat at the opposite end of the round table from us. This time they were not so eager to discuss the ghosts that plague this residence, in fact they tried especially hard to not bring it up. Maybe its not the type of thing to discuss over breakfast? Wendy and I were ready to just pack up and head home anyway, so we were fine with what seemed like "the cold shoulder" at breakfast. Our ride back was quick and silent as both myself and Wendy remained stunned by the events that had unfolded that evening. I haven't experienced a place like this since...
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