Ghostly Past

I would love to tell everyone all the odd, spiritual and paranormal things that have happened to me all in one post.

I will start to write about them, there are too many to share.

Will start writing about them soon

Rolling Hills History

Often resembling a reformatory, a poorhouse often housed orphaned children, families, destitute elderly, physically handicapped, mentally unstable, morally corrupt, even criminals. These institutions were situated on the grounds of a poor farm on which able-bodied residents were required to work; such farms were common in the United States in the 19th and early 20th centuries.

A poorhouse (sometimes referred to as almshouse or asylum) was a government-run facility for the support and housing of dependent or needy persons, typically run by a local government entity such as a county or municipality, and institutions of this nature were widespread in the United States prior to the adoption of the Social Security program in the 1930s.

On December 4, 1826 the Genesee County Board of Supervisors met in Bethany for the purpose of establishing a County Poorhouse. A brick building, originally a stagecoach tavern, located near the corner of the Bethany Center Road and Raymond Road was the site selected, as it represented the geographical center of the county. (Wyoming County wasn’t established until 1841.)

This official announcement, dated December 9, 1826,

appeared in an issue of the Batavia Times newspaper:

“Notice is hereby given that the Genesee County Poorhouse will be ready for the reception of paupers on the first day of January 1827 … The Overseers of the Poor of the several towns of the County of Genesee are requested, in all cases of removal of paupers to the county poorhouse, to send with them their clothing, beds, bedding and such other articles belonging to the paupers as may be necessary and useful to them.”

The following were eligible for assistance:

Habitual drunkards, lunatics (one who by disease, grief or accident lost the use of reason or from old age, sickness or weakness was so weak of mind as to be incapable of governing or managing their affairs), paupers (a person with no means of income), state paupers (one who is blind, lame, old or disabled with no income source) or a vagrant.

In 1828 Genesee County constructed a stone building attached to the Poorhouse for the confinement of lunatics and a repository for paupers committed for misconduct. The insane were also housed at the County Home until 1887 when the Board of Supervisors agreed to send “persons suffering with acute insanity” elsewhere in the state.

The Genesee County Poor Farm aka The County Home, was a self sufficient working farm and woods, spanning over 200 acres, providing food and fuel, thus the actual cost to care for each person was low, about $1.08 per week per resident, back in 1871.

Residents were referred to as inmates (no matter why they were housed there) and those physically able-bodied would work the farm and many actually built and made wares to sell to help offset some of the living expenses. The raising of Holsteins, pigs, draft horses, chickens and ducks, raising vegetable and fruit crops, canning jams, jellies, meats, were all part of the chores, there was a bakery and even a wood shop where coffins were made (for use as needed and for sale to local mortuaries).

The County would bury those who had no family, and records indicate there was once a cemetery located on the property, but the particulars are almost nonexistent. An 1886 Proceeding states “The burying ground we have improved by building a fence in front and grading and leveling the ground as much as could be done without injury to the graves.”

The cemetery for the County Poorhouse has faded away as the stones crumpled, the grass grew and the forest replanted. No one was around to care for those who had so long ago been forgotten. These people, though they were poor, ill and sometime abandoned, do deserve to be remembered. An actual cemetery register or plot map has yet to be discovered.

A memorial site was created in the Genesee County Park and on June 6, 2004 when five headstones, dated from 1887 to 1888, were returned to the County. The Genesee County Historians dedicated a historical marker honoring those who died while living in the County Home from 1827 until the facility was closed in 1974 (residents were relocated to new facilities in Batavia).

The Dinner Bell

Tonight is steak on the grill. I marinated the meat in italian dressing after shaking on a little meat tenderizer, then gave it a coat of steak sauce and the forking of it’s life.

While that was marinating I wrapped asparagus spears in bacon and chopped some onions and bacon pieces in a frying pan and sauteed that on the side burner for while the steaks are cooking.

“R” likes to come outside with me. She’s my official taste tester & we get to talk, something that she won’t want to do forever, but the memory of it will last forever in Daddys mind.

There is a short piece of time we all get with our kids. We need to make every moment count.

Nighttime brings out the worst in spirits

I wonder what it will be tonight.

I sit again at the side of my bed,watching the living room cam, waiting for the orbs to begin flashing, swooping, darting every which way in the room.

I can’t believe it’s the only room it’s happening in. It’s just the only room with a high def camera pointed at it.

I thought maybe the orbs were a weird light anomaly caused by the camera until I watched one of my cats chase an orb one night.

When “R” was around 18 months old she stood there in her crib one night looking up at the ceiling. She pointed upward and said “bubbles…….bubbles” like she was trying to get us to look.

Yes of course we did, we didn’t see a thing. But she clearly did. Thats one thing about “R”, everything is always black or white… gray allowed in her mind. It’s either true or false, lying has never served any purpose in her life. So we know when she says she sees something, it’s there.

I used to take her down to the falls area in town after I picked her up from school. She’d point to the mad rush of water traveling away from the falls and under a giant tunnel where the water recycled back into the canal and say “look Daddy, angels”.

She doesn’t see those angels anymore, and barely remembers it at all. Very strange the way that happens with kids. I’ve heard about other peoples kids doing that but never thought one of mine would.

I’ve had very odd things happen to me when I was a kid. Paranormal, spirits, ghosts, prediction dreams, out of body experiences.

Sometimes I think people are magnetically attracted to these types of thing.

Lucky me.

The stress begins

I get up rested and pop a K-cup into the Keurig to start the morning off right and even before I get out of the kitchen the insanity begins.

A bit about the kids we’ve adopted.
I will use only the first letter of their names to respect their privacy.

“M” has been with us for 11 years. He came to us by the request of a family member that was dying of brain cancer. He had Down Syndrome & many behaviors associated with his poor upbringing from birth to 8 yrs old.

“R” is now 10 yrs old. She came to us at 2 days old from the hospital and has been with us ever since. She has Autism & Fetal Alcohol Syndrome.

“N” is 9 yrs old. He is from an abusive foster home in Ohio. Getting to adopt him was like pulling teeth. He was starving, had a mouthful of abcessed teeth that no one took care of, was 30 lbs at 7 yrs old and in a size 2T. Severe malnutrition, he would try to eat out of the garbage can every chance he got.

Thats our kids. They bring the Crazy House to a whole new level of crazy!

Haunted Crazy House

Since we moved in there have been quite a few instances of obvious paranormal activity that have gone on. Since we have three kids with special needs we have security cameras in their rooms with audio, just in case somethings goes on in the middle of the night. Ok, I’ll admit, I’m paranoid, so that’s part of it. I also have a cam on the living room so we can watch the house when we’re away and of course, at night.

The other night I was exhausted from work, that stress generator I voluntarily wake up and drive off to each morning. I was sitting up on my side of the bed and my wife was reading or on her iPad. I heard a man’s voice, sounded like it was coming from the monitor on my wife’s side of the bed. Well, that’s my daughters room. I grabbed my knife, extended the blade, tucked in up against my arm and tried to walk quietly through the dark house towards her room with a small flashlight in hand. I don’t think my heart has ever pounded so hard. I swore if there was someone in the house they’d hear me coming a mile away.

My first thought was, you’d better be sure what you’re seeing when you walk through that door. I popped her squeaky door open and flipped up the flashlight in that same moment. Nothing but a dark room with the night light I faithfully make sure she has propped on her night stand before she goes to sleep. I even looked under her bed, nothing. I was now certain it came from somewhere else that had a monitor, or it was coming from outside a window.

I checked my son’s rooms, every inch of every corner someone could hide and my wife decided we should check the basement. Oh God, not the basement! Snakes have found their way down there somehow, bats have flown upstairs from down there and something ghostly lurks that musty dark space.

So braving it out, every corner checked, still nothing. Had to work the next day so where does this madness end? I told my wife I’d never get to sleep. It was definitively a man’s voice, but thankfully we found nothing. When you know in your heart you heard something, it’s hard to convince yourself you really heard something else. So, the android by the side of my bed that is now connected to my living room cam was the focus of my attention for the next two hours till I fell off to sleep against my better judgement.

This is just one of many odd and unexplained experiences that happen in our house. I could fill a hundred blogs with everything that goes on. The worst thing right now is………Halloween’s coming.

The Crazy House

It’s official, I do live in a crazy house, and now that I’ll be blogging about it the paranormal phenomenon, weird cats and dog, bats, mice, snakes, spirits, and my very odd family………there’s no going back.

It’s me, my wife and three special needs kids, 5 rescued cats, one rescued dog, and a house I never really wanted to admit was haunted, but there’s no getting around it.

I really do have better things to do than make this stuff up. I work full-time as a Quality Manager in a food processing plant. I handle multi-level compliance matters related to the food industry.

But that’s not what my blog is all about. It’s about the insanity that I live daily and after the lights go out……………

Welcome to my Crazy House!