http://www.tmnews.com/stories/2007/08/02/entertainment.nw-080290.tms

Ghost-hunting skeptic remains curious, but cool to concept

I’ve always considered myself to be somewhat of a connoisseur of haunted houses. I love them and take every opportunity during the month of October to tour them, laughing hysterically at the half-hearted attempts people make at scaring other people.

And I always leave disappointed.

After all, it’s just people dressed up in costumes. They can’t touch you, and a simple jump from the shadows is always thwarted by my overly curious and skeptical nature. The “mad scientist” or “chainsaw-wielding murderers” never chase after me because I never scream and more often than not I leave the spectacle laughing.

Let’s face it — I am somewhat hard to frighten.

That, teamed with my own fascination toward the unknown, led me to jump at the opportunity to hunt ghosts in Mitchell. If there are ghosts out there, I have to see them. That’s the only way I am going to believe they exist.

But I’ll be the first to admit that ghost hunting isn’t as glamorous as one might expect.

I spent 12 hours last Thursday with the Louisville Ghost Hunters Society as they inspected a home in Mitchell for spooks. OK, not really. I spent nine hours with three ghost hunters as they tried to prove — using the library, cemetery and museum — that the child who supposedly haunts the house ever existed. Then, we spent a few hours trying to get her to come out for a little visit.

I don’t think she ever did.

I’ll admit that a few weird things happened.

I heard knocking when no one was knocking, and insulation was hurled at the camera man in an attic devoid of humans. I might have heard some whispering, and the lights flickered several times. A toy appeared on a coffee table with no one claiming responsibility for moving it, and the others in the group claimed to have heard a child crying.

Am I convinced there’s a ghost haunting this abode?

Not yet.

I wanted (and honestly expected) a little more concrete proof to this haunting experience.

I joked with the cameraman about how I would’ve liked to have seen something other than insulation hurled at him — perhaps the lamp sitting a few feet away — because then I might actually believe the house was haunted. I wanted a clichéd image of a girl to come waltzing through the parlor or a strong, clear voice to bellow out of the walls. I couldn’t be satisfied with fuzzy images of what might be the image of a girl standing in a window or second-hand stories of other peoples’ experiences.

But, then again, I am not sure what I would’ve done had I gotten the proof I needed.

You see, I am scared of real life. I am more likely to be frightened by “Cold Case Files” than by watching “Most Haunted” on the Travel Channel. I’d likely wager a bet that my chances of getting hurt by a criminal are a little better than getting injured by a ghost. Call it reality.

Yet — although the invitation to stay the night in the house fascinated me — I wasn’t convinced it was something I could altogether handle (at least not without plastic sheets on the bed). Saying I am not afraid of ghosts when I’ve never seen a ghost is pretty easy. Saying I am not afraid of ghosts when there is one standing over the bed I am sleeping in is an altogether different experience.

In all honesty, I would like to believe there is another side to life. I’d like to know I might have the chance to come back and haunt my husband, or that when the hair stands up on the back of my neck, that might mean my beloved grandmother or lost friends are in the room with me.

It would be a cool thing to know, but I am not sure we’re supposed to know.

They say curiosity killed the cat.

Then again, perhaps those who believe or are willing to believe can see more than we ever expected we would.

Times-Mail Staff Writer Krystal Slaten welcomes comments and suggestions at 277-7264 or by e-mail at krystal@tmnews.com.