Not the Normal Paranormal

A few will be aware I have been known to speak on various subjects over the years. Fundamentally these all revolve around my favourite subject of etymology. Have always enjoyed bringing this fascinating subject to others. It’s not for me to say whether the audiences have, although many have asked me to return.

Thought it might be worthwhile sharing a snippet or two from these etymological presentations, continuing with Not the Normal Paranormal.

Here the hour or so sees how I was introduced to the subject and began to write about same, how I research the stories, and my own experiences. A snippet or two from each of my paranormal books ends with the tale of the oddest of telephone calls (which I still don't understand) and then questions from the audience.

Perhaps one of my favourite stories comes from Birmingham and the Old Crown at Deritend. It is claimed to be the oldest pub in Birmingham, it has not always been a pub but is the licensed premises occupying the oldest building in the Second City. There are numerous ghostly reports from this place, but one stands out.

Today the pub offers a room for the night, but owing to building restrictions there are a couple of things which the Old Crown was unable to provide at the time. First there are no en suites in any of the rooms; next the shutters on the windows do not exclude all the light from the busy High Street outside; and finally there are no locks on the doors but a peg is inserted in the latch when inside the room. I mention these three key points as they are all relevant to the story.

A couple of thirty-somethings – we’ll call the Dick and Jane - opted for a weekend in Birmingham to liven up their marriage. After a meal and few drinks in the city centre, they returned to the Old Crown for drinks and an early night. Upstairs in their room, with shutters drawn and peg inserted in the latch, they did what comes naturally to couples in love. (That’s sex, if you don’t know or can’t remember.)

In the early hours of the morning Dick awoke and found he had to answer a call of nature. He tried to ignore it, having no en suite, but eventually had fold back the quilt, slide out of bed, slip on his trousers and, having removed the peg, managed to slip out of the room and pad quietly along the corridor to the visit the facilities.

Minutes later, suitably relieved, he padded back to the room but stopped when reaching the door which he had left ajar. Standing outside he could not believe his ears. From inside the room came noises, sounds he was very familiar with, and sounds he had heard earlier in the evening from Jane. Indeed, they were very recognizably from Jane.

Dick jumped to the conclusion that someone had taken his place in the bed. But for reasons I have never understood, decided to wait outside until the intruder emerged (the door being his only avenue of escape) instead of rushing in and coming to Jane’s rescue. But this plan fell through when, despite the ‘action’ inside the room clearly having reaching a conclusion, nobody emerged.

In rushed Dick (perhaps I should have chosen a different name) to gallantly defend Jane’s honour, only to find she was lying in bed exactly as he had left her and the bedclothes just as he had left them. Perplexed, Dick removed his trousers, slid into bed and, just as he pulled the quilt across, Jane turned over, three an arm and a leg over him and announced “That was the best EVER!”

Dick later told me he has never had the nerve to tell her he wasn’t in the room at the time.

Having related this story when giving this talk, I have been asked several times the room number and I can reveal this to be …… well you will have to read the book or book me for the talk to find out.

If you think you know someone who would like to hear me speak on this subject, drop me a line.

Amington Hall

The current building known as Amington Hall was built in 1810. Designed by Samuel Wyatt – he also designed Soho House in Handsworth – it replaced the Amington Old Hall farmhouse, both are Grade II Listed. Owned by the Repington family, who had held the estate since 1539.

Ownership passed down to eventually reaching Charles Henry Wyndham A’Court. He rented it out to wealthy tenants, as did his son Charles a’Court Repington on his father’s death in 1903.

Eventually Charles Junior sold the building to former tenant Sydney Fisher, owner of Kettlebrook Paper Mill – their wealth is indicated by the 1911 Census records showing he living at the hall with his wife, four children, a butler, footman, hall boy, governess, two lady maids, and five house maids.

Going Underground: Birmingham

Thanks to Robert Deloyde roving around with his camera, I am able to add more to the information contained in the book. I am indebted to Robert for the information.

Near to the corner of Hill St and Station St was a Gentlemen's Toilet, it was just below the roadway, at some point it was closed down and filled in, when New St Station had a refurb, guess what was uncovered?

Robert was surprised I did not mention the Bus/Coach station that was built but never used under Birmingham's former Central Library.

Robert also pointed me in the direction of the service area of the Big Top, (entrance is opposite Moor St Station). This not built with articulated lorry's in mind in the 1950s, with the exit in New St. Never built because of the cost.

Woolworths in New St had it own service area in Stephenson Street. A loading bay had spaces for the managers cars, the area dark and dingy. Possibly you can still see the slope to the loading bay from Stephenson Street next door to two large lifts still visible in Stephenson Street that go down one floor to an underground car park with room for about twenty cars.

When Rackhams was a going concern at the top of the slope there was a turntable so that you could drive onto the turntable and push the van/lorry around so that you could back onto a loading bay, but what used to happen was that van/lorry's would hit the turntable at speed causing it to turn around until the driver would reverse to the loading bay, thereby stopping the rotation. This turntable lifted many years ago when the vehicles grew too big.

In the book I spoke of working in Digbeth and the problems when the River Rea flooded. Just before the Ironmonger's closed for the last time (Gregory Pank's) after trading for some five decades - Robert took a few shots inside the shop, and with their permission I took a few in their cellar. Full of stuff, including boxes, a table and, in one corner, a pump used to empty the cellar when the river flooded it. Previously this had been a baker and also a pub. The only light into the cellar from a number of glass panes in the ceiling.

Tramways still have some rails in situ, never having been raised.

When work started of HS2 in Curzon Street, on removing the concrete and soil, now covered over, this brick work was revealed and Robert wonders if it belonged to the earlier railway buildings.

Tuesday 31st March 1830 and the coach named the Standard was en route from London to Liverpool. Leaving Birmingham for Lichfield, the passengers soon became concerned for the coach either travelled at a slow trot or a gallop, without seeming due care and attention being paid to the road conditions or safety of the occupants.

As they descended the hill of New Allesley Road from the toll gate, their speed increased until they entered through the city gate at a gallop. Coming to Spon Lane and due to turn towards St John’s Church the driver lost control of the now wildly galloping horses and missed the turn. Attempting to make the turn at this speed he only succeeded in overturning the coach, it crashing on to its right side. Six passengers were travelling outside (at half price) and a single passenger within.

After the crash four passengers were taken to the house of Reverend W Grindon, one seemingly lifeless and put to bed as blood was coming from his right ear – he died at 4pm the following afternoon having spent the interim in sheer agony. A shoemaker from Birmingham named Henderson had a dislocated shoulder; a seafaring man named Steele had many contusions to his head and body – both men were taken to a nearby public house to await treatment. Captain Ingram of the West Indies Regiment was the sole passenger travelling inside the coach, he received a broken collarbone and taken to the Kings Head Inn. The other passengers were not greatly injured and resumed their journey. Both coachman and guard received minor injuries.

The Family Business

I'm often asked why I took to writing, to which I answer 'the words'. Not really as flippant as it sounds, for it was my interest in etymology which brought me to writing, as anyone who has followed this blog for any length of time will clearly see. Invariably the next question will be if any other member of the family were writers, was I inspired by a great-uncle or maiden aunt - no, as far as I'm aware I am the only member of my family to have had a book published.

But the question did get me thinking as to what could be thought of as the family business - or rather two families, maternal and paternal lines. A few years ago I did do extensive research on my family and collected quite a bit of information. Hence, I thought it might be interesting to look at some of the jobs my ancestors performed.

I found: two accountants, four labourers, a bricklayer, a carpenter, four who worked at a colliery including an engine worker and a sinker, three coopers, three engineers, four farmers and an agricultural labourer, a gardener, a jeweller, a joiner, a metal worker, two railway workers of which one was a guard, a chauffeur, a lorry driver, a nailer, a tube maker and a mineral agent.

Of more interest were the soldier based in Hampshire with the 47th regiment. a sergeant, who managed to marry the daughter of a Sergeant Major. One day I'll find out a little more about their military career.

I also found a gun action filer, one of the many cottage industries contributing to the production of firearms in Birmingham's Gun Quarter. His job will have been one of many tasks which helped contribute to Birmingham's claim of 1,001 trades.

A pearl button maker, one of many who earned their living in the button trade of the Second City.

Of particular interest were five individuals who earned their living from the coaching routes. Three of my ancestors were coach builders and two others wheelwrights, my interest is because I recently published a book looking at coaching routes in Staffordshire and at least two of these five worked in the county atsome point.

But despite the link with the coaching routes I found my great-grandfather's job the most intriguing. Some will remember the annual furore as hunters took seal pups for their fur. Some 150 years ago my great-grandfather earned a living as a seal plush finisher, in its time a skill and a talent which apparently enabled him to earn a good living.

Health and Safety

Monday 19th June 1854 must have started out as a normal working day for John Hudson. On reaching the Shire Hall at Stafford he climbed the scaffolding as usual and was returning to where he had finished work two days earlier. He failed.

Moments later, having slipped through an opening in the scaffolding, he was falling back toward the ground. Such a fall would have been unlikely to have killed him, for this was no great height. Furthermore, his fall was broken by the window sill of the floor below. Hudson bounced off the sill, which threw him away from the building and he landed on the iron railings surrounding the building.

Unfortunately the decorative iron railings were topped by spikes and he landed on one. The spike entered one side of his face through the upper jaw and exited on the other side, just below his eye. Taken to Stafford Infirmary he survived to tell the tale and return to work.

In October 1968, almost fifty years ago, a damp and misty autumnal morning at Yardley Grammar School in Birmingham saw one pupil looking out for his best chum whose late appearance was highly unusual. By stepping up and standing on the low wall, this highly intelligent 12-year-old could peer over the top of the school railings and look along the street for his absent friend. He slipped. A railing impacted his face and he was concerned that there was a rather bad scratch across his most handsome face. He was mistaken.

The spike had actually entered the fleshy part of his face below the jawline and as he attempted to lower himself to the ground, had only succeeded in pushing it further into his face and exiting through the cheek. Luckily he managed to pull himself back up to where he had been standing on the wall and effectively lift his face back off the spike. Thinking now might be a good time to seek medical treatment, he sauntered off to the medical room where a mirror revealed two holes in the righthand side of his face and shortly afterwards an ambulance raced him to hospital. Doctors sewed him back together with, what he then thought, an impressive 39 stitches and then reported back to his parents how the railing had missed the artery by just a fifth of an inch (5mm to we youngsters).

Suicide Note

On the evening of November 1st 1911, Mrs Cole of 33 Stowe Street, Lichfield opened the door to find Master Marshall. The young lad clutched a note marked URGENT which he said had been given to him by a "big boy" earlier that day with instructions not to deliver it until the evening. By now a Mr Griffin, having found a neatly folded jacket and cap on the canal bridge at Shortbutts Lane, had found what he presumed was the owner of the discarded clothing under that bridge having drowned in the canal.

Earlier William Henry Mears, aged just sixteen, had left the offices of Mr C. J. Brown, a solicitor of St John Street, for whom he had worked for the last six weeks. William was the son of a widower but since the death of his mother in Hanley two years earlier had lived with his aunt, Mrs Cole. He had left his employer's offices at 1:30pm that day. When Mrs Cole opened the note she found it contained the following message: "Dear Aunt - I am tired of Lichfield. I am starting with chilblains again and I can't stand it. With best love your broken-hearted nephew, Willie. Give my love to cousin Sarah and all. I have no fault against my aunt. You will find me in the canal up the Birmingham Road. I would sooner die happy than live miserable."

At the subsequent inquest the aunt told of how he had complained of voices in his head and seemed quite stupid. He was deaf in one ear and restless at night. He suffered badly of chilblains the previous year, the discomfort causing him to cut his hand, his ear, feet, legs and arms to rid himself of the torture. With the advent of winter he complained often of how much he feared they would return. It seems he had returned to his aunt's house that afternoon, presumably when he wrote the note. He was seen by his aunt's cook, Louisa Phillips. He brought her a parcel, saying in contained chocolates but when she opened it found it contained shampoo powder. Next to see him was Mr Gilbert who pulled him from the bottom of the canal but he was stone cold.

The coroner in his summing up noted how the note had been dated two days prior to his death but thought this was likely because he had not known the correct date. This seems odd considering how erudite the letter and accurate the punctuation. However he went on to make even more extraordinary comments. Telling of how he had recently sat on another case of a young person committing suicide and wondered if this was not the result of them becoming "overly educated". The coroner also asked if young William had read the newspapers as, if so, could consider this to be further evidence of "a copycat suicide".

Ghouls and Ghosts

Although I have written a number of books on ghost stories, these you'll find at the end of this piece, here I'm looking at the origins of the many assorted named used to describe these supernatural beings. In some cases the etymologies are even weirder than the stories.

Banshee - in Irish folklore this fairy is held to predict an imminent death. First recorded in 1771 as Irish bean sidhe, this the phonetic spelling for 'female of the elves'. The root bean 'woman' from the Proto-Indo-European root gwen with the same meaning of 'woman'.

Bogeyman, unsurprisingly, is a combination of two words. The suffix 'man' is unchanged since at least Proto-Indo-European, while 'bogey' is another form of many dialect terms - such as 'bogge, boggart, bogle, etc, - all from the same root as Welsh bwg 'goblin' and thought to date back to 'buck', a goat-like supernatural creature and a word which can traced back to Proto-Indo-European bhugo 'buck, goat'. This is hardly a surprise as many supernatural beings are depicted with horns reminiscent of those worn by a goat.

Brownie comes from Scotland, a diminutive of 'a wee brown man' and thus comes from the same root as the colour, itself from Proto-Indo-European bher which also means simply 'brown'.

Demon still has the alternative spelling of 'daemon' in English, this the Latin word for 'spirit' and taken from the Greek daimon 'deity, divine power, lesser god'. The Greek comes directly from Proto-Indo-European dai mon 'the divider, provider' and thus only in recent times have demons been perceived with any negativity.

Devil here is used to mean 'evil spirit' rather than the alternative name for Satan. Here 'devil' comes to English from Latin, Greek, Jewish, where diaballein 'to slander, attack' (although literally 'throw across') from Proto-Indo-European dia 'across, through' and gwele 'to throw, reach'.

Elf is from Germanic folklore, where it was used to refer to any small supernatural being. Here the Proto-Germanic albiz is thought to come from Proto-Indo-European albho 'white' and a reasonable description of an indistinct ghostly image.

Fairy is derived from Latin fata 'the Fates' of Roman mythology. This is derived from Proto-Indo-European bha 'to speak, say'.

Genie comes from the Latin genius, the original meaning being 'an individual's guardian spirit'. This derived from the same root as 'gene' in 'birth, beget'.

Ghost comes from Old English gast 'breath' as well as 'good or bad spirit'. This Germanic word can be traced back to Proto-Indo-European gheis which is the root for so many words in any number of languages, all meaning 'excitement, amazement, fear, wonder' such as Sanskrit hedah 'wrath', Avestan zaesha 'horrible', and Gothic usgaisjan 'frighten'.

Goblin has an uncertain origin, although it may be from Greek kobalas 'rogue, knave' and possibly a diminutive of the proper noun Gobel.

Imp, until the 14th century, referred not to fauna but flora, the change almost gradual and initially referring to 'a little one'. Earlier this was used to mean 'young shoot, graft' and began as Proto-Indo-European bheue'to be, exist, grow'.

Incubus, credited with causing nightmares makes the origin of Latin incubo 'nightmare' and from incubare 'to lie upon'.

Kobold shares an origin with 'cobalt', a metal not named until 1733 and not used as a colour unbtil 1835. Here the metal, and thus the colour, come from the German kobold 'household goblin' - the name being taken for the ore as it contained traces of arsenic and sulphur and made the miners in the Harz Mountains ill.

Leprechaun is from Irish luchorpan 'a very small body' and from the Proto-Indo-European legwh 'not heavy' and kwrep 'body'.

Phantom, in the sense of 'spirit, ghost' is unrecorded before the 14th century, prior to that it had been used to mean 'to bring light' and is derived from Proto-Indo-European bha 'to shine'.

Poltergeist is German and means 'noisy ghost'. This is derived from Proto-Indo-European bhel 'to roar, sound', itself also the origin of both 'bellow' and 'bell'.

Spectre shares a root with 'spectrum', both from Proto-Indo-European spek 'to observe'.

Spirit can be traced to Proto-Indo-European speis 'to blow', this developing into Latin and French words suggesting 'breath of life'.

Spook is from the Middle Dutch spooc 'ghost'. While the trail ends here, we can find related words such as Danish spog 'joke' and Swedish spok 'scarecrow'.

Sprite shares an origin with 'spirit' (see above).

Succubus is related to 'incubus' (see above) but here means 'to lie under'. The word is seen in Latin succuba, used to refer to a 'fiend in female form having a sexual connection with men in their sleep'.

Troll is an Old Norse word, used as a noun to mean 'giant not of the human race' but also as an adjective 'to walk clumsily'. Here the latter possibly came from the verb form, itself meaning 'to stroll'.

Wraith is also from Old Norse, coming to English from vorthr meaning 'guardian'. Now today the 'wraith' is never seen positively and thus this Old Norse root is probably a red herring and we should be looking at the same root as 'wrath', itself having numerous forms in Germanic tongues all meaning 'anger, cruel, offended' and based on Proto-Indo-European wer 'to turn, bend'.

Zombie is of West African origin and originally the name of a snake god. It is related to Kikongo zumbi 'fetish' and Kimbundu nzambi 'god'.

These and other terms can be found in my books on the supernatural and paranormal. See how my research uncovered a relative in Haunted Worcestershire, read the best-seller Black Country Ghosts, hear about the intriguing telephone call in Paranormal Cotswolds, have a look at where I live in Paranormal Staffordshire, find out there is more to Warwick than its famous castle in Ghosts Around Warwickshire, and read how her lover could never admit he wasn't in the room when she had the best sex of her life in Ghosts Around Birmingham.

Hardware

I did not have a job when I left school - it was the early seventies and the last days of Edward Heath's government and unemployment was the height of fashion. What I did have was a Saturday job in a hardware shop which, for a couple of months full time, gave me a meagre income and very tired feet.

At the time I had no idea ‘hardware’ was also used as a slang term for ammunition during the days when Birmingham’s Gun Quarter and munitions factories were employed as many in cottage industries as the city’s more famous Jewellery Quarter did at its height. The most famous of the ‘hardware’ manufacturers was BSA, a name now synonymous with motorcycles but one which began as Birmingham Small Arms and abbreviated to BSA. The military relied so heavily on supplies from Birmingham that those from the Second City became known as Hardware-Blokes. This was then transferred to those who sold metal items door-to-door, with their wares known as Hardware-Swag.

The ‘hardware’ term was only in use for about 50 years from 1870. Before, during and afterwards the residents of Birmingham were more commonly known as Brummies. This came from Brummagen, a local name which developed from the idea of the city’s name being ‘Bromwich-ham’ and influenced by neighbouring settlements such as Castle Bromwich and West Bromwich and the development of the terms Brummie and Brum are obvious.

Around the same time the term Brummagem came into use with a very different meaning. Look in the Oxford English Dictionary under ‘Brummagem’ and see the definition ‘counterfeit, cheap and showy’. This comes from a time when the Jewellery Quarter was found to have a number of unscrupulous characters who were watering down the gold with cheaper metals. The reason gold is so valuable is threefold: it is comparatively rare, does not tarnish, and is extremely malleable making it easy to make into the intricate jewellery designs. As the percentage of gold in the product drops so the finished product increases in size and gaudiness.

While neither slang term is in use for metal-working, I know of no other example where a slang place name has entered the dictionary with a completely different meaning at the same time as a word in the dictionary has come to be a slang term for a person from the same place.

I would welcome any suggestions for themes or subjects, or even specific words to examine the origins, meanings and etymologies. I’d be delighted to hear from you.

An appeal to the Brummies

With the finishing touches being put to my next ghostly offering, here is a taster of what will be the latest look at the ghosts and ghouls, spectres and spooks, unexplained and unearthly goings-on in Birmingham. With time running short before deadline day this is your opportunity to add your own experiences, be they personal or second (even third) hand. Full credit will be given or, if desired, you can remain anonymous. I look forward to hearing from you and can reached by email paranormalbirmingham@hotmail.com.

The year is 1840 something and a minor officer of St Bartholomew's Church in Edgbaston is awoken late at night to hear the bells ringing. This was way beyond any hour when such should be heard and so he pulled on his coat, lit his lantern and headed off to investigate.
Entering the church, places of worship remained unlocked in those times, the feeble light from the lantern caught a figure lying at the foot of the stairs to the belfry. He recognised it as Thomas Jackson, a man of the parish known for his mood swings and whose sanity had been called into question on several occasions.
Closer inspection revealed his head was almost severed at the neck and the copious amounts of blood were still warm. In his hand Jackson was clutching a cut-throat razor, the blood still dripping from the blade. It took a great deal of coaxing to prise the blade from the fingers of the man, showing how he had sought to take his own life. By now others, also alerted by the toll of the bells, had arrived and together they carried the still bleeding Jackson to the nearby Plough and Harrow public house where he died soon afterwards.
On the darkest and most inclement of nights Tom Jackson is still to be seen walking around this area. Now wearing a scarf his awful neck wounds are hidden, however he can still be recognised by the blood-stained razor and wide eyed stare off into the darkness.

My Hallowe'en Story

With Hallowe'en on the calendar this weekend I thought I might offer up an offering from my forthcoming book on the paranormal. Entitled Paranormal Birmingham, it covers the traditional narratives alongside the personal experiences of those who have lived and worked in this city of 1.2 million individuals.
No book on any aspect of the history of Birmingham would be complete without a mention of the Old Crown. There is no doubt this is one of the oldest buildings in the city, if not the oldest, while the actual date of construction is difficult to tie down. Early research suggested a date of 1368, however this is based on estimates from surviving records and not actual facts.
In the fourteenth century one Robert o' the Grene is documented as a co-founder of the old church of St John the Baptist. This meant they no longer had to travel to Aston parish church to worship and that he, as a founder, was earmarked to whomever owned the building which is now the Old Crown. This shows the building was here before the church and has also outlived it.
A substantial property was given as a wedding present to the daughter of Robert 'o the Grene. It is most tempting to think this was the Old Crown, indeed it would be difficult to see two such sizable buildings here which was, and remained for many years after, smaller than neighbouring Aston. When the original local historian and antiquary, John Leland, came through here in 1540 he reflected upon the 'praty strete' and its 'mansion howse of tymbar'.
Queen Elizabeth I is said to have stayed here for a single night, perhaps William Shakespeare's eyes saw the large wooden building on one of his journeys, and Prince Rupert may also have admired the even then old building when he came to Birmingham during the English Civil War. We may have to guess as to the identity of many of the historical figures, however more recent visitors and employees have documented their experiences in the Old Crown Ghost Book, a record by the individuals themselves on their personal experiences. These individuals, who shall remain anonymous, may well have been introduced to others whose memory still remains within the walls of this historical building.
Our first two stories come from downstairs in the where the public wander freely. It was November 1998 when a member of staff was taking a hard-earned break on the other side of the counter. Her mind was elsewhere, perhaps planning ahead for the coming festive season, and gazing aimlessly in the direction behind the bar by the till. Suddenly, and with nobody near, a bottle of Martell Brandy fell. It had been nestling in a wine rack to the right of the till, but came crashing down with a bang which, as the witness reported, was somehow far too loud for a breaking bottle.
Around the corner is the restaurant area. Here in September of 1998, when most of the customers had finished their meals, a doorman took the weight off his feet on the stool at the end of the bar. As he sat there he clearly saw an indistinct grey figure, difficult to say it was male of female, walk across the fireplace and into the kitchen area. It never paused when passing the lit fire, nor was it seen by the kitchen staff still tidying up after the evening meals. It had simply vanished.
However it is upstairs in the guest rooms where the most disturbing reports originate. As a member of staff pointed out, these reports have something in common. Nearly all occur between the hours of 2:50am and 3:30am, although the time does not seem relevant to the experiences, as we shall see.
It is May 2007 and in room number three a visitor from the other side of the world was spending his third night at the Old Crown. Previous nights had passed without incident, yet this was to be his last night here and he moved on to another hotel in the city centre. He was greatly disturbed when he awoke in the middle of the night and had the feeling he was not alone. Opening his eyes he turned over to see a man in his early fifties. A hazy, greyish silhouette, the stranger was not himself particularly frightening, indeed the guest said he had a kind face. Perhaps the stranger was more scared at being discovered, for he took a single step back and then vanished.
However the most activity seems to occur in room number five. On two consecutive nights in February 2000 the guest had awoken, the figures on the alarm clock glowing red at 3:26am both nights. On the first night he awoke feeling cold and wet, his first thought being he had wet the bed although this proved not to be the case. The following night he woke again feeling cold and wet, yet this time he opened his eyes to the sight of an old woman above the bed weeping bitterly. She vanished but left him wondering it had been her tears which had made him feel wet.
Our last story also comes from room number five and is rather different. Nothing was seen, so far as we are aware, although something was most assuredly felt as we shall see. It is September 1998 and two twenty-somethings were spending the night in that room. The boyfriend was awoken, needing to answer a call of nature and had arisen, leaving his girlfriend sleeping. When returning he distinctly heard her voice, not speaking but the tell-tale little moans and gasps he was quite familiar with. He crawled back into bed and she snuggled up to him, arms around one another.
It was then he was taken aback by her commenting on how that was, in her words. "The best willy ever!" He resolved never to tell her he had been otherwise engaged at the time!

One Further Haunting

The third and final excerpt from my published works follows my appeal for your stories and experiences of the paranormal kind as I look to whet the appetite and hopefully stir a memory or experience and see a narrative for possible inclusion in forthcoming volumes covering my native Staffordshire and also the city of Birmingham and its suburbs.

From Haunted Worcestershire published by The History Press Ltd in 2009,

comes the story of Ephraim Rolfe

During the eighteenth century Broadway was home to one Ephraim Rolfe. A popular young man, he was known to be a little slow-witted. Yet he was famous around here for his kindness to the local children and an uncanny ability to seemingly communicate with animals. Indeed he even managed to earn a pittance of a salary scaring birds from the local fields and thus help protect the crops.

One day he was out patrolling the land in and around Springfield Lane to the north of the village heading in the general direction of Evesham. He was spotted by the squire and, thinking he had finally caught the poacher who had plagued him for years, took aim and shot him dead.

It is said that Ephraim still lingers around the fields where he met his sad and premature end. On stormy nights, when brief illumination is provided by lightning or moonlight between the clouds, he can be glimpsed - scarecrow thin and bony, still protecting the crops around the village where he was loved.