Espiritu in the Land of Dixie

So...now where was I? Oh yes...terra firma forever. Let me flash forward to the first weekend in the land of cotton. No...I saw no actual cotton plants; but I did want to relay the appearance of a "ghostly" experience. You may have read some of my other ghost stories...so this is just another addition to that string of events.

What happened...might you be wondering? It started that Friday night, just 3 weeks ago it was.
In Charleston, you may sign up to go on various "ghost" tours of the city. This night, about 10 of us decided to go to the "haunted jail". This was actually a jail and prison constructed around 1790. It was used continuously until 1936. That is a very long time indeed. The tour started at 10pm. Although the jail was very interesting and creepy...I saw nothing out of the ordinary for the duration of the tour. I took some photos...but alas....no spirits made their presence known. I heard several loud bumps...but that was not extraordinary. In fact...besides the obvious scare attempts by the guide...nothing happened at all.

Well, by 11pm...the tour was over. Other participants left by cars parked nearby...while the group I was in walked in the general location of the last known place we had parked our cars. About a block, or so, from the jail and about a half hour later...it was decided that half the group would find the cars...while the others would stay. I stayed...and along with the other 4 persons...we chatted and waited for the return of our comrades. Adjacent to our location was a very old, but well kept, elongated house...at least as old as the civil war years...if not older. It was blue and on the end facing us...were 4 white wooden shutters...all in row. As it so happened...I was relating one of my ghost stories to the group when one of the ladies commented suddenly...."look, there is a women in the window". Upon this, I looked up and lo and behold...there indeed stood a young woman at the window. Now mind you...it was nearly 12pm now and the tour had been over for quite some time. The old house had no lights on, yet the figure stood out with amazing clarity. She was definately young...perhaps late teens, or early twenties. Her hair was long and flowing...past her shoulders. She was very beautiful indeed. A true southern belle. Had this been all...then a passing reference would be all I could say. But this was no ordinary woman. For you see...her hair, face and body were of one color...ghostly white with a washed out look. She appeared to be naked as well...no textiles did I see adorning her. As we all stared up...not one word did she utter. Several attempts by us were made to communicate with this entity...if you will...but to no avail. She just stood and looked upon us...nary a spoken word, nor expressive gesture...save one. At this time, she appeared to raise her left hand in a fist and made slow and deliberate circles with it. To what end...I do not know. At about this time...the cars for which we waited, had returned...and of which I exclaimed to her the event. As suddenly as she had appeared, so now was she gone and the shutter sealed once more.

And so it was that night...the bonus feature saw by 5 souls on a dark and lonely street...in the city of Charleston...in the land of Dixie. Was this a ghost...I cannot answer that; but I can say for certain that 5 people all saw the same thing...at the same time...and in the same manner. Ironically...my digital camera stopped working just as we finished the old jail tour. But isn't that how these things always go? Proof is almost always lacking...but isn't that what makes the uncertainties in life more adventurous? How dull and mundane would life be if chance was eliminated from the game? For the small group that night...at least for a moment in time...we experienced an adventure shared by few others. Real or imagined...it will always be a link in our common lives...brief as it was. It will remain a part of us until the end of our days.