Well, the Ouija boarding had to wait until tonight, as my sister Kim and I were too caught up last night in making fun of Ghost Adventures (an activity of which I am keenly fond). Our response to their mushmouthed recordings went something like “We captured this EVP of a ghost unwrapping a piece of cellophane candy.” They may have the last laugh, though.

After spending roughly six hours in Hobby Lobby, we finally hauled our asses over to Greenwood Cemetery, which turned out to be even bigger than Hobby Lobby, a feat I considered impossible. But it just kept going on and on and on, and it was a hilly mutha. Never let anyone tell you there aren’t any hills in Illinois. I tried one of the many acorns on the ground, because there were plenty to choose from and hey, squirrels seemed to like ‘em. Well, I’m here to tell you: squirrels are dumbasses. That thing was vile.

Regardless, the cemetery itself was a wonder, with many sections new and old. Weather took a turn for the worse near the infamous Civil War monument, where tortured soldiers are said to roam. We didn’t experience any activity, but there was a strange stone by itself, apart from a line of soldiers, that merely said “Nellie Bridgewater” on a simple wooden cross. No date, no nothing, just enough there to make me wonder if she was ever there at all.

Once the rain started, we booked it out of there and went thrift shopping. I wouldn’t mention it except we ended up at the Wabash Antiques Depot, which used to be the Wabash Railway Station, and though we didn’t know it at the time, it is also thought to be haunted. Apparently you can’t swing a dead cat in Decatur without hitting a disembodied spirit.

I owe our experience at Lincoln Square Theater to Kim, who saw on their marquee that they were having flu shots today. The most we could have hoped for was poking our heads in, looking around the lobby while legit customers got their shots, and slinking out. What we got instead was a full-on tour by Cheryl and Debbie, two wonderful women involved with the theater itself. They fully copped to the ghost stories, describing paranormal tours gone by; there was even a blue-green “ghost light” on stage, the only lighting present during routine investigations. The theater itself was gorgeous, though in need of repair. I felt a bit uneasy on the bottom level near the “B” section, but that might have been power of suggestion, as Cheryl spoke of one woman who didn’t dare venture close. Tons of the “orbs” I photographed must have been dust, especially on the mezzanine level, but others…I have to wonder. I’ll put them all up once I get home.

We did attempt a Ouija board session back at the hotel, after eating fried pickles and watching the Brewers lose. I remember trying a board by myself (eep) at least once; Kim used to do it all the time with her teenage friends. Alas, nothing came of it. Maybe Kim’s penmanship just wasn’t up to snuff, or maybe together we’re both too dense and skeptical to attract the proper spirits. Some would say we’re better off.

I didn’t even tell you about our nighttime cemetery visits…that’ll have to wait for the next blog post. Perhaps by that time I’ll have audio to share. Stay tuned!