Post by Tim Weisberg on Apr 8, 2006 13:09:10 GMT -5
Hey gang, thought you might want to check these out....they're a couple of stories I wrote for the Standard-Times last October. Enjoy, and let me know what you think and what experiences you might've had...
Millicent Library's spooky folklore is worthy of a Stephen King novel
By TIM WEISBERG, Standard-Times correspondent
Like many of Fairhaven's hulking stone castles, the Millicent Library connects the town of today to the seaport it was 100 ago -- perhaps in more ways than one.
Rumor has it the library is haunted with ghosts from the 19th century, long-dead spirits who refuse to leave the exquisite building on Center Street and cross over to the Other Side.
"Oh yeah, people have mentioned it off and on, especially several years ago," said library director Carolyn Longworth. "They say they have a sense that there's something present."
The library was constructed in the 1890s as a tribute to Millicent Gifford Rogers, who passed away in 1890 at the tender age of 17. Her father, Henry Huttleston Rogers, was Fairhaven's biggest benefactor, and he decided to erect a great library in her honor.
Many of the stories originate with the myth that Mr. Rogers buried his daughter in the foundation of the library. Fueling that myth is that the dedication ceremony for the library's cornerstone took place at 6 a.m. on a Monday with only the family and a clergyman present. Also, when the library officially opened and the stained-glass window that bears Millicent's portrait was unveiled, again it was only the family present. The public services took place in the Congregational Church.
Some of the stories that have circulated over the years include the ghostly spectre of Millicent Rogers walking through the library, luminated by a bright blue light. People also have claimed to hear her laughter reverberating through the building.
Ms. Longworth and Debbie Charpentier, archivist and facilities manager of the library, both strongly deny that Millicent Rogers is buried within the foundation, saying she is resting comfortably at the River-Side Cemetery on Main Street.
Peter Reid, superintendent of the cemetery, confirmed it. "Yes, she is (at River-Side). She is in the Rogers family mausoleum."
"I wish I knew where (people) got this information from," replied Ms. Charpentier.
Even if Millicent Rogers isn't beneath the beautiful building, other spirits may be present. Some have claimed to have seen a woman dressed all in black running her fingers across the books on the shelves, and others suggest that a man with a tweed jacket, purple bowtie and small round glasses is often seen mopping the basement floors. The legend is that he's the ghost of a janitor who died after slipping on a wet floor and that his footsteps can also be heard on the spiral staircase that extends from the basement to the library's tower.
The current janitor, Cliff Patenaude, often works in the basement alone. Even though he's never felt anything, he knows of others who have.
"Some Native American guy from Seattle felt something in the auditorium in the basement," Mr. Patenaude said. "He was with some construction guys, doing some work, and he said he felt some presence."
Some claim that the spirit of Fairhaven folk legend Hetty Green haunts the Millicent Library because one of her hats rests amongst the library's artifacts.
"That's no longer even here," said Ms. Charpentier. "We did possess Hetty Green's hat at one point, but there was never anything associated with it."
Ms. Charpentier bristles at the mention of ghosts in association with library.
"I've been here 22 years. I've been here in the dark, I've been here alone, I've been in the basement, the roof, the tower, and I've never seen anything, heard anything, smelled anything, or felt anything," she said, emphatically.
As a historian, she deals in only what she can prove, and it upsets her that such hogwash exists.
"Everything they say about this library, like most other pieces of folklore, is based on some degree of fact," she said in her office, surrounded by various artifacts of Fairhaven history. "Then, it's embellished to suit someone's agenda. I deal with history every day, and I see how it's manipulated to suit people's purposes."
When wandering through the library, it's easy to see why stories about it being haunted can be so easily accepted. Built in the Italian renaissance style by Charles Brigham, the foremost architect of the era, the library's exterior is decorated with the gargoyles and grotesques that were popular at the time. Although such embellishments were usually placed on buildings to ward off evil spirits, on a stormy night they can seem just as unwelcoming to those with good intentions as well.
The griffins, carvings, and statues of the interior continue such a tenuous feeling, and the sharp corners of the inside architecture can play with the mind a bit.
The eeriest room, without question, is the Rogers Room. Housing various artifacts and documents related to the history of the Rogers family, it is dominated by the huge portraits of Henry Huttleston Rogers, his mother, and grandmother. Hanging on the far wall of the room, it's said that if you talk directly to the portraits, their expressions change as a result of the conversation.
Indeed, the portraits are extremely life-like, with eyes that seem to follow as one moves across the room. And, from different angles, the stoic frowns of the women can appear to have the creeping corners of a grin.
Is this a sign of some sort of spiritual presence at the Millicent Library?
Again, the staff pooh-poohs it.
"I've worked here for 17 years, and I've never felt anything out of the ordinary," said Juanita Goulart, assistant director at Millicent. Although she comes from a family she describes as "highly psychic," "I've never sensed any kind of restlessness or paranormal presence here."
But her sister, Jen Levine, has.
"There's things I've experienced in this building -- cold spots, for example," she said. "I'll walk into a room and the hair on the back of my neck will stand up. I've smelled flowers of some sort when there aren't any around."
Even Ms. Longworth had to admit that in the past, strange things have happened--including one incident involving the main grotesque on the building's exterior. While Ms. Charpentier refers to it as the Greek mythological figure Pan, it bears a striking resemblance to the Devil himself.
"We received a book on gargoyles and grotesques in New York City," Ms. Longworth said. "On page 93, I found the spitting image of the one that is on our building. It's also by Brigham. What's weird is that it's on page 93, and when I first started working here, we stamped all the books on page 93, because the library opened in 1893."
The main grotesque that now resides on the building is actually a replica. The original sits in Longworth's office in a huge Perth Amboy fireplace, after a restoration a few years back.
"When we had it taken down, we put it on a T-shirt, and people who worked here started having bad things happen in their lives," Ms. Longworth said. "It was probably just a coincidence, but people always remarked about the devil being on the T-shirt. A psychic told one employee she should burn frankincense in the four corners of the building, so she did."
"Hey, it couldn't hurt," Ms. Longworth said with a laugh.
While Ms. Longworth has never experienced anything definitively paranormal in her nearly 30 years working at Millicent, she plays along with the notion of working in a "haunted library."
"It gives the library a personality, because it's nothing malevolent," Ms. Longworth said.
Even if it's not the spirit of Millicent Rogers, Hetty Green or anyone else famous in SouthCoast folklore, Ms. Longworth can understand if those who have passed on still want to pay the library a visit every now and then.
"A lot of people have warm feelings about the library," she said. "There's a lot of emotion associated with it over the years. Maybe that feeling lasts even (into death)."
On a trip to Millicent, hauntings are recorded
By TIM WEISBERG, Standard-Times correspondent
This time of year, those in search of a genuine scare often turn to supposedly haunted places like the Millicent Library for their Halloween chills and thrills. They want to believe, they want it all to be true, but only a true scientific investigation can determine whether or not a location is haunted.
With no agenda in mind, myself and fellow "amateur ghost hunter" Matt Costa recently visited the library, armed with a video camera, digital still camera, digital voice recorder and more than enough curiosity.
We conducted our own mini-investigation on a dark, wet, dreary evening while the library was still open. Although these aren't the best conditions for ghost hunting -- total darkness and a minimum number of people present are optimal -- we had to make due, considering we were guests of the already gracious and accommodating library staff.
While our investigation revealed no definitive signs of an actual haunting (which, in all likelihood, would have sent us screaming from the building), there were a few strange instances during our visit.
At one point, when I was in the Rogers Room attempting to interview the portrait of Henry Huttleston Rogers, Matt came bursting into the room with a big grin on his face.
"I'm not saying anything, but when I went into the basement, I was in the hallway, and the light turned off on its own." He had captured the event on video, and we quickly reviewed the tape before heading downstairs to try to debunk what had happened.
My initial assumption was that someone had flipped a switch to mess with Matt, but when we flicked the switch (which was right next to where Matt had been standing at the time), two lights actually went off, tied together on the same circuit. On the video and in Matt's recollection, only one light went dark.
When we arrived home and reviewed the digital photographs, I noticed an "orb" floating in one of the pictures. Paranormal investigators feel these spherical, transparent balls of light that appear in photographs taken in supposedly haunted places are either the spirit trying to manifest or the energy being drawn toward a spirit. Either way, this orb had its own luminescence and couldn't be explained away as dust or light reflection.
Zooming in on the orb, it appeared to contain the face of an elderly woman in the middle.
When I returned to the library the next day to try to duplicate the event, Library Director Carolyn Longworth took me on a tour of the library's tower, which is closed to the public. There, I captured another orb, this one with a clearly defined skull image in its center.
Is this a sign of some sort of spiritual presence at the Millicent Library, or simply our minds wanting to believe there is one?
Millicent Library's spooky folklore is worthy of a Stephen King novel
By TIM WEISBERG, Standard-Times correspondent
Like many of Fairhaven's hulking stone castles, the Millicent Library connects the town of today to the seaport it was 100 ago -- perhaps in more ways than one.
Rumor has it the library is haunted with ghosts from the 19th century, long-dead spirits who refuse to leave the exquisite building on Center Street and cross over to the Other Side.
"Oh yeah, people have mentioned it off and on, especially several years ago," said library director Carolyn Longworth. "They say they have a sense that there's something present."
The library was constructed in the 1890s as a tribute to Millicent Gifford Rogers, who passed away in 1890 at the tender age of 17. Her father, Henry Huttleston Rogers, was Fairhaven's biggest benefactor, and he decided to erect a great library in her honor.
Many of the stories originate with the myth that Mr. Rogers buried his daughter in the foundation of the library. Fueling that myth is that the dedication ceremony for the library's cornerstone took place at 6 a.m. on a Monday with only the family and a clergyman present. Also, when the library officially opened and the stained-glass window that bears Millicent's portrait was unveiled, again it was only the family present. The public services took place in the Congregational Church.
Some of the stories that have circulated over the years include the ghostly spectre of Millicent Rogers walking through the library, luminated by a bright blue light. People also have claimed to hear her laughter reverberating through the building.
Ms. Longworth and Debbie Charpentier, archivist and facilities manager of the library, both strongly deny that Millicent Rogers is buried within the foundation, saying she is resting comfortably at the River-Side Cemetery on Main Street.
Peter Reid, superintendent of the cemetery, confirmed it. "Yes, she is (at River-Side). She is in the Rogers family mausoleum."
"I wish I knew where (people) got this information from," replied Ms. Charpentier.
Even if Millicent Rogers isn't beneath the beautiful building, other spirits may be present. Some have claimed to have seen a woman dressed all in black running her fingers across the books on the shelves, and others suggest that a man with a tweed jacket, purple bowtie and small round glasses is often seen mopping the basement floors. The legend is that he's the ghost of a janitor who died after slipping on a wet floor and that his footsteps can also be heard on the spiral staircase that extends from the basement to the library's tower.
The current janitor, Cliff Patenaude, often works in the basement alone. Even though he's never felt anything, he knows of others who have.
"Some Native American guy from Seattle felt something in the auditorium in the basement," Mr. Patenaude said. "He was with some construction guys, doing some work, and he said he felt some presence."
Some claim that the spirit of Fairhaven folk legend Hetty Green haunts the Millicent Library because one of her hats rests amongst the library's artifacts.
"That's no longer even here," said Ms. Charpentier. "We did possess Hetty Green's hat at one point, but there was never anything associated with it."
Ms. Charpentier bristles at the mention of ghosts in association with library.
"I've been here 22 years. I've been here in the dark, I've been here alone, I've been in the basement, the roof, the tower, and I've never seen anything, heard anything, smelled anything, or felt anything," she said, emphatically.
As a historian, she deals in only what she can prove, and it upsets her that such hogwash exists.
"Everything they say about this library, like most other pieces of folklore, is based on some degree of fact," she said in her office, surrounded by various artifacts of Fairhaven history. "Then, it's embellished to suit someone's agenda. I deal with history every day, and I see how it's manipulated to suit people's purposes."
When wandering through the library, it's easy to see why stories about it being haunted can be so easily accepted. Built in the Italian renaissance style by Charles Brigham, the foremost architect of the era, the library's exterior is decorated with the gargoyles and grotesques that were popular at the time. Although such embellishments were usually placed on buildings to ward off evil spirits, on a stormy night they can seem just as unwelcoming to those with good intentions as well.
The griffins, carvings, and statues of the interior continue such a tenuous feeling, and the sharp corners of the inside architecture can play with the mind a bit.
The eeriest room, without question, is the Rogers Room. Housing various artifacts and documents related to the history of the Rogers family, it is dominated by the huge portraits of Henry Huttleston Rogers, his mother, and grandmother. Hanging on the far wall of the room, it's said that if you talk directly to the portraits, their expressions change as a result of the conversation.
Indeed, the portraits are extremely life-like, with eyes that seem to follow as one moves across the room. And, from different angles, the stoic frowns of the women can appear to have the creeping corners of a grin.
Is this a sign of some sort of spiritual presence at the Millicent Library?
Again, the staff pooh-poohs it.
"I've worked here for 17 years, and I've never felt anything out of the ordinary," said Juanita Goulart, assistant director at Millicent. Although she comes from a family she describes as "highly psychic," "I've never sensed any kind of restlessness or paranormal presence here."
But her sister, Jen Levine, has.
"There's things I've experienced in this building -- cold spots, for example," she said. "I'll walk into a room and the hair on the back of my neck will stand up. I've smelled flowers of some sort when there aren't any around."
Even Ms. Longworth had to admit that in the past, strange things have happened--including one incident involving the main grotesque on the building's exterior. While Ms. Charpentier refers to it as the Greek mythological figure Pan, it bears a striking resemblance to the Devil himself.
"We received a book on gargoyles and grotesques in New York City," Ms. Longworth said. "On page 93, I found the spitting image of the one that is on our building. It's also by Brigham. What's weird is that it's on page 93, and when I first started working here, we stamped all the books on page 93, because the library opened in 1893."
The main grotesque that now resides on the building is actually a replica. The original sits in Longworth's office in a huge Perth Amboy fireplace, after a restoration a few years back.
"When we had it taken down, we put it on a T-shirt, and people who worked here started having bad things happen in their lives," Ms. Longworth said. "It was probably just a coincidence, but people always remarked about the devil being on the T-shirt. A psychic told one employee she should burn frankincense in the four corners of the building, so she did."
"Hey, it couldn't hurt," Ms. Longworth said with a laugh.
While Ms. Longworth has never experienced anything definitively paranormal in her nearly 30 years working at Millicent, she plays along with the notion of working in a "haunted library."
"It gives the library a personality, because it's nothing malevolent," Ms. Longworth said.
Even if it's not the spirit of Millicent Rogers, Hetty Green or anyone else famous in SouthCoast folklore, Ms. Longworth can understand if those who have passed on still want to pay the library a visit every now and then.
"A lot of people have warm feelings about the library," she said. "There's a lot of emotion associated with it over the years. Maybe that feeling lasts even (into death)."
On a trip to Millicent, hauntings are recorded
By TIM WEISBERG, Standard-Times correspondent
This time of year, those in search of a genuine scare often turn to supposedly haunted places like the Millicent Library for their Halloween chills and thrills. They want to believe, they want it all to be true, but only a true scientific investigation can determine whether or not a location is haunted.
With no agenda in mind, myself and fellow "amateur ghost hunter" Matt Costa recently visited the library, armed with a video camera, digital still camera, digital voice recorder and more than enough curiosity.
We conducted our own mini-investigation on a dark, wet, dreary evening while the library was still open. Although these aren't the best conditions for ghost hunting -- total darkness and a minimum number of people present are optimal -- we had to make due, considering we were guests of the already gracious and accommodating library staff.
While our investigation revealed no definitive signs of an actual haunting (which, in all likelihood, would have sent us screaming from the building), there were a few strange instances during our visit.
At one point, when I was in the Rogers Room attempting to interview the portrait of Henry Huttleston Rogers, Matt came bursting into the room with a big grin on his face.
"I'm not saying anything, but when I went into the basement, I was in the hallway, and the light turned off on its own." He had captured the event on video, and we quickly reviewed the tape before heading downstairs to try to debunk what had happened.
My initial assumption was that someone had flipped a switch to mess with Matt, but when we flicked the switch (which was right next to where Matt had been standing at the time), two lights actually went off, tied together on the same circuit. On the video and in Matt's recollection, only one light went dark.
When we arrived home and reviewed the digital photographs, I noticed an "orb" floating in one of the pictures. Paranormal investigators feel these spherical, transparent balls of light that appear in photographs taken in supposedly haunted places are either the spirit trying to manifest or the energy being drawn toward a spirit. Either way, this orb had its own luminescence and couldn't be explained away as dust or light reflection.
Zooming in on the orb, it appeared to contain the face of an elderly woman in the middle.
When I returned to the library the next day to try to duplicate the event, Library Director Carolyn Longworth took me on a tour of the library's tower, which is closed to the public. There, I captured another orb, this one with a clearly defined skull image in its center.
Is this a sign of some sort of spiritual presence at the Millicent Library, or simply our minds wanting to believe there is one?
