Open this photo in gallery:

Illustration by Mary Kirkpatrick

First Person is a daily personal piece submitted by readers. Have a story to tell? See our guidelines at tgam.ca/essayguide.

When I retired last year, I posted on Facebook about becoming a retiree. It caught the eye of a manager at another firm where I had worked evenings off and on for many years as a storyteller, leading haunted walking tours. A message was dispatched to inquire whether I would be interested in returning to work there on a part-time basis. I was intrigued. I would lead groups of up to 12 on paranormal investigations attempting to communicate with spirits within a historic village museum for several months.

But I should back up a bit first.

In the early 1990s, I was employed by a theatre company in London, Ont., which believed that the ghost of theatrical tycoon Ambrose Small resided within its premises. At the time I did not believe in such utter nonsense, however I was happy to adopt the narrative since my livelihood and paycheque depended on it.

One day, a manager decided it would be a fine idea for me to dress up as the infamous Ambrose – who mysteriously vanished without a trace in London in December, 1919, and continues to attract attention to this day. In costume, I’d make appearances at public events to promote the company. I readily agreed, secretly relishing the idea of getting out of the office more frequently. A costume, replete with top hat, tails, gloves and even a walking stick, was issued to me.

The job was an incredibly steep learning curve in coming to terms with the fact that – for at least some people – ghosts and the paranormal are a normal part of everyday life. It certainly became that for me from the moment I first donned the outfit. The ghost I was impersonating decided to let me know he was present and aware of exactly what was going on.

Oh, it started harmlessly enough with items from my desk moving suspiciously to other parts of the office. It also seemed to me that the building’s elevator kept malfunctioning every time I stepped into it. It reached a point where colleagues would not dare ride on it with me. Eventually, I had to resort to taking the stairs.

Ambrose’s tomfoolery continued and I was often overheard chastising and cursing the invisible force that was wreaking havoc on my daily work life.

While it is safe to say I never became friends with the ghost, we did learn how to get along. I interpreted Ambrose’s action as his way of alerting me that he was flattered at the attention being showered upon him so many decades later. And, as the one who was charged with impersonating him throughout that particular year, I was the focus of his warped sense of gratitude.

So after decades of interactions with a multitude of spirits across Ontario and Quebec, I am now leading other curious individuals in paranormal investigations through historic buildings across the National Capital Region.

Frankly, I don’t believe the spirit world is that much different from our own. Common sense and manners go a long way when communicating with the unalive. After all, these entities were once living, breathing humans themselves – just now located in a different dimension. So why should they be treated with any less dignity than while they lived? I relish getting to know numerous spirits by name, some of whom have even shared parts of their life-stories with me.

I know that some friends and family look at me sideways when I start to wax poetic about my latest adventures, however, I also sense curiosity and even a hint of jealousy. Until someone has participated in a paranormal investigation, I see no reason to poke fun or be critical of such an undertaking. When a nervous participant hears tapping, senses a sudden temperature change, feels their hair being tugged, or even sees an apparition, all skepticism melts away and a new door is opened to an entire world that is just waiting to be discovered.

Who could say boo to that?

Leonard Belsher lives in Shawville, Que.

Share.
Exit mobile version