A room with a view

In my last post I questioned the validity of almost automatic attribution of apparent time/space anomalies to "ghosts".

The story that follows - it's very short (always a commendable virtue in my book), taken from the files of the American Society for Psychical Research - adds little or nothing towards the clarification* of this issue, but it does further illustrate my point (I hope).

If you are from Nebraska, you have probably heard it before.

Then again, I am not, and I have heard it myself. I read it, to be precise, in Michael Talbot's book The Holographic Universe.

On page 227-228 he speaks of "a woman identified only by the name Buterbaugh", who "looked out the window of her office at Nebraska Wesleyan University and saw the campus as it was fifty years earlier. Gone were the bustling streets and the sorority houses, and in their place was an open field and a sprinkling of trees, their leaves aflutter in the breeze of a summer long since passed".

Charming. ;)

But Talbot's account, while succinct and enticing (certainly enticing enough for me to have remembered it), sounds a little vague. Expressions like "a woman only identified as Buterbaugh" certainly don't help building an impression of credibility.

The good news is that the story is relatively recent and that it involves people whose existence seems to present little doubt (although I should tell you that I usually try to "investigate" them anyway**) .

Furthermore, in the years since the publication of Talbot's book it has spread to other sources of information and is now to be found in versions that contain some more (and quite reassuring) details.

We now know the exact date when it's supposed to have happened: October 3, 1963.

We also know that Buterbaugh's name was Coleen and that she was a secretary at the university.

However, those extended versions feature another player, also a woman: Miss Urania Clara Mills, the former head of the university's music department. She was appointed to that position in 1912, and occupied it until her death, at age sixty, in 1940. (But the accounts - and supposed date - of her death seem to vary; see below.)

Be it as it may, it was apparently Miss Mills' room at the university where the unsuspecting Miss Buterbaugh was confronted with a vista like no other.

Here is a short version posted on a genealogy site:

"The ghost of Miss Urania Clara Mills haunted the C.C. White Memorial Building on this campus. The huge brick building, erected between 1903 and 1907, housed the Music Department, where Miss Mills taught from 1912 to 1936. On October 3, 1963, Mrs. Coleen Buterbaugh, a secretary to Dean Sam Dahl, was in the music building on an errand.

When she entered the rooms of Dr. Tom McCourt she was overcome by a strong, musty odor. Then she saw the apparition of a tall, thin woman reaching for some papers on the top shelf of an old music cabinet in a corner. Looking out the window, Coleen realized it was summertime and the sun shining and flowers blooming. Suddenly the ghostly scene disappeared and the outdoor scenery returned to a gray October day.

When she told Dean Dahl about her experience, she launched an investigation and discovered that those rooms belonged to Clara Urania Mills. She had died on October 3, 1936, in the room across from where her ghost was seen. The case has become a classic in the literature of the paranormal.

The CC White Building was torn down in 1973."

Here is another one, an excerpt from an interesting article:

"Now that is a very good question," said Roger Cognard when asked if he believes in the ghost that haunts the university.

Cognard, a professor of English at Wesleyan, was reluctant to talk about his personal beliefs about Lincoln's most notorious ghost but was willing to tell the story.

On Oct. 3, 1963, the dean of the university sent his secretary, Coleen Buterbaugh, on an errand to the C.C. White Building on campus. She entered a room in the building and saw a woman dressed in early 20th century clothing. Buterbaugh looked out the room's windows and saw that the tall trees she had walked past before entering the building had transformed into small, recently planted ones.

The area surrounding the building appeared to be underdeveloped and resembled what it would have looked like 50 years in the past. Buterbaugh turned and ran.

Upon hearing his secretary's account of the story, the dean sent Buterbaugh to a faculty member who had worked at the university the longest.

He showed her a yearbook, and she proceeded to flip through it, eventually identifying the woman she saw as Urania Clara Mills, a former music teacher at the school.

Buterbaugh was unaware that 23 years prior, Mills walked into the room Buterbaugh entered, sat in a chair and died of a heart attack.

"I came here one year after the incident and got to know the dean real well," Cognard said, "He is a credible man and he accepted his secretary's story as gospel."

But there is another version, much more extensive, where the apparent time slip, amazingly, plays only a minor role:

Nebraska's Haunted Colleges

(by Troy Taylor)

Go ahead, read it.

I'll wait...

(The C.C White Memorial building as it was cca 1906 - 1920.
Photo taken from here.)

So, how did you like it?

What I like about this version is that it questions the date of Miss Mills' death. According to them, the most probable date of death is April 12, 1940 (not even remotely close to October 3, 1936).

What I don't like about it (through no fault of the author) is the fact that there is no mention of that ancient summer's day - in October - with breeze wafting through the leaves of long-gone trees.

And yet, it is precisely that purported fleeting view from the window, into a summer long gone, which not only justifies the inclusion of this interesting incident here, but, more importantly, proves - at least in my mind - that Miss Mills, or whoever that apparition was, was not a "ghost".

As I see it, Miss Buterbaugh somehow entered a point in space/time that included that woman's presence (very real at the time - in her own real time). She entered a moment - a summer's day - that, from her perspective, had passed "long ago", but in reality, in the fullness of time, that moment still is. All moments, past and future, still are.

Miss Mills (asuming that it was her presence) may have somehow triggered an apparent "rift" in the spacetime continuum. Or maybe she didn't - maybe something, or somebody, else did.

Was it Miss Mills' memory that Coleen Buterbaugh somehow accessed?

(That's one explanation that Charlotte Moberly offered for her trip extraordinaire.)
The vision of her reaching for a book would speak against that possibility. People do not usually "remember" themselves as they are seen from outside, by another pair of eyes.

Was it somebody else's memory, then?
Who knows.

Was Miss Mills - or somebody else? - reminiscing across time about her office, her daily work?

Or was she, with all of her life, somehow "hardwired" into the apparent separate space/time of that room - eternally present, so to speak? And did Miss Buterbaugh simply (simply?) got the wires of her "now" somehow crossed with the wires of Miss Mills' "now"?

Be it as it may, I have little doubt that Miss Buterbaugh really experienced what she said she had.

But were the presence(s) that she sensed "ghosts"?

Not as I understand them; not unless it is a name for images and other sensory perceptions somehow retrieved from the eternal NOW into the illusion of "present" (illusion in the sense of being separate from that "eternal now", I mean).

I will say this: music being intimately connected with the numerical repartition of time/space, it should come as no surprise that this string of incidents involves a musician.

Many of the physicists and/or mathematicians I know have great talent for music. (Dear old Albert - you know Albert - was a very accomplished violinist. Did you know that? Yes, I know you did. Only the smartest people come here. ;))

And I am almost sure Miss Urania Clara is dancing to the music of the spheres as we speak... in her own former office. In her own former life.

(Honestly: what else would you expect from someone called Urania Clara, I ask you...? ;)

***

* Pun on Miss Mills' middle name not intended - but welcome. ;)

** Somewhat irritatingly, Miss Mills does not appear on this group photo, taken in 1916. Much more unsettlingly, she is not even mentioned in the official catalogue issed by the Department of Music, in April 1916 - or anywhere on that site, for that matter.

For somebody who failed to appear in any photo of the staff, she certainly has a strong presence...

I am not saying that she didn't exist (in case you haven't noticed, the author of the article above gives a precise address for her - see the note at the bottom of the article); all I am saying is that I am yet to find photographic "proof" of her presence at the university.4717 Baldwin Avenue in Lincoln4717 Baldwin Avenue in Lincoln

I anticipate further edits to this post, so do come back at some later date. ;)

EDIT (23. XI. 08): Actually I am not sure that the photo and the catalogue (see note **) were even published by the Wesleyan university - both refer to the University of Nebraska, which was in Lincoln at the time (or so it seems).
The fact remains that her name is not mentioned on that site.
(Nor is Miss Buterbaugh's, for that matter.)

It looks like a human, but it shouldn't be there...

... and the answer that immediately seems to spring to mind is: what is a GHOST!*

I am somewhat reluctant to include these musings here, since this blog is not supposed to be about »ghosts« - and there are many, many genuine time/space displacement stories waiting for their turn to be told here.
And since "ghost" stories transcend the usual perceived boundaries of every single time/space continuum – AKA the present – it is somewhat tricky to discuss them here, in this space dedicated to perceived time/space anomalies. Because once the floodgates are open, this space could soon outgrow its carefully trimmed hedges and burst into the anarchy of (yet another!) generically »paranormal« blog. (The fact that the blog mistress is para-normal should be more than enough, for the time being...)

But it occurs to me that we don't really know what so-called »ghosts« really are. And I don't think they can even be lumped together into a single category, however broad.

I love a good – let me emphasise that: GOOD – ghost story. Who doesn't?

But there really aren't all that many around – good ones, I mean.
(On the other hand, there are quite a few very good ones that aren't »around«, because the world has simply not heard of them yet.)

I don't know about you, but I've always found it somewhat irritating that so many people – even documentary film-makers and such – jump to conclusions regarding the nature and origins of apparitions and other para-physical phenomena indicating a sort of human presence.
Whenever the presence of such a phenomenon is established, it is followed – and, usually, preceded – by stories of somebody living and/or dying in the place that is »haunted«, often without any evidence that the apparition is in fact linked with the specific person(s) who supposedly lived and/or died in the house.

In short, among those who give any credence to the phenomenon at all, ghosts seem to be widely identified with »wandering souls«; they are thought to be ex-people, if you'll excuse the pythonesque allusion, who for some reason couldn't »rest in peace«.

And what irritates me the most is precisely the absence of questions – of questioning - regarding the actual origins of such apparitions.

And yet, some apparitions are clearly not the result of »tormented« spirits. Such is the famous case of the Roman regiment – complete with a mule or horse – that is said to have been seen (in 1953, by one Harry Martindale) marching through a cellar of the Treasurer's House in York (England).

The soldiers were said to have a haggard, disheveled – tired? – appearance, which would be in no way unusual, considering their occupation. (The appearance of the mule is not described in detail.)

More unusually, however, the lowest part of their bodies, from the knees down, seemed to have vanished.

Were they victims of a shin-worshiping tribe or something? Maybe the local women craved their footwear and the soldiers wouldn't part with it?

Hardly: as I said, they appeared to be marching – in perfect silence - through the cellar, only the lower part of their legs was unseen. And we do know there was a Roman road leading through that future cellar – and that the street level was a feet or two lower than the level of the ground today.

Here is a good (if short) account of the story (from The Independent):

(And here is an entry about Roman structures in non-haunted cellars from a wonderful history blog, with some humourous comments, one of which includes an allusion to this story: WHAT YOU CAN FIND IN CELLARS.)

But even the most pedestrian programmes about "haunted" places can yield surprisingly productive thoughts.

I was (semi)watching a programme about »ghosts« on the TV the other day.

Semi-watching TV is they key word here; with the »corner« of your eye you can sometimes catch more than you would normally. And with the »corner« of your mind, you can sometimes catch thoughts that might not occur to you normally. (Of course, being sleep-deprived helps, too...)

There was talk of a certain room in a certain hotel that is supposedly »haunted« (and there are many such hotel rooms across the world). Purportedly, people often see "shadows" or "grey" apparitions of people wandering through the room before disappearing as suddenly as they appeared.

So far, so good... but wouldn't you know: immediately the team proceeded to investigate whether somebody died in that room.

Why?

What IF some of the localised, i.e. space-specific, »apparitions« and other, non-visual manifestations of a human »presence« are really the effect of that person's (the ghost-to-be) mental revisiting (remembering, if you will, only with more intensity than usually) the spaces that were important to them – from within their own timeline? Or, perhaps more accurately, across time.

(Or maybe the place wasn't even all that important to them; maybe their thought - or their "astral body", as many like to call it - simply wandered into their room because of some random mental association?)

Could this explain appearances such as the one Ingmar Bergman reportedly witnessed in a theatre?

I for one have the distinct impression that all times really DO exist all at once.
(But more on that some other time. Besides, there is a wonderful collection of books listed at the bottom of this page that discuss just that. You don't have to buy them - borrow them, and I am sure at least one or two of them will be worth your while.)

I hear you: it is rather thankless to offer a theory that cannot be supported by evidence and is, furthermore, based on another unsupported theory...

But thinking is fun. ;)

So... what do you think?

* For those who are not familiar with American pop culture, this unusual form of expressing an answer refers to a very popular quiz show called "Jeopardy".

Beyond Normandy Road

(This account should have been published on October 8, 2008.
It wasn't Saturn, the ruler of Time, who prevented it: it was Mercury, the ruler of communication - and spammers...
Not that it matters very much - after all, time will be time... ;-)



The following personal account comes from Darlene Kaiser, in the USA.
We find it fascinating. It not often that people glimpse into what seems to be the future.

Here is how it happened...

"It was a hot clear sunny day in the summer (July) of 1968 on Normandy Road, Fitchburg (MA) in my neighborhood, where I grew up. I was 6 years old at the time.

In my neighborhood there are three rows of houses lined up all the way down the road.
I lived on the first row. It was followed by a road, and after that by a grass lawn (uphill); then followed a second row of houses, then another road and then another grass lawn (also uphill). The third road of houses was followed by the last road; after that, the grass hill, which is located on top of Normandy Road, extended into the woods. (The road goes uphill to the third row of houses.)

It was 11:15 am. I remember I was wearing a top shirt and shorts.
I was playing by myself in the back of one of the third row of houses on top of Normandy Road and I decided to take a walk into the woods on top of the up hill.

The wood was very thick and shady. I could hardly see the sky above me - just trees and leaves. I was pulling off branches and leaves away from my body, face and hair. It was a 10 minute walk.
I don't remember everything what I was feeling at the time... just a little bit cold, being all scratched up on my legs and arms by the branches, sticks , twigs; and I remember picking up colorful leaves.

As I came out on the other side of the woods, I felt shocked and stunned by what I saw. I could describe it as a futuristic looking neighborhood. All I did was stare with my mouth open - like Dorothy, from the Wizard of Oz, just coming out of her tornado dropped house looking at Munchkinland for the first time in her life, with her mouth wide opened staring in shock. That's how I felt.

The roads and houses looked well advanced and beautiful. The roads were not made of black tar but of white/silvery metallic cement reflecting the sunlight. It looked smooth, extremely clean, shiny and modern. This is what caught my eye first.
The houses had many huge big windows, with colorful rooftops; they looked very advanced. The streetlights were different-looking, straight clear poles with ice cream cone shaped lights on top, with an upside down bowl (that's how I can best describe it). I had never seen this before. It did not look like the late 1960's - it looked more like the year 2025.

There were no people around: just me and the futuristic scene. I could also hear a deep humming sound coming from the background; to me, it sounded like (I am not sure) like a "live" power line.

I walked up a few paces to the edge of the road and leaned over to see what was in the distance around the corner. All I could see was lined up houses going down the road on my left side. On my right side I could see the same road coming uphill, then straighten, then curved back downhill on the other side.

I started feeling lost, so I decided to go back into the woods and go home to tell my mother.
This whole event lasted about 6 minutes.

When I told my mother about it, she said, " Stay out of the woods!!"

The next day I sneaked back up into the woods to see that "futuristic" place again.
I could not find it. I looked and looked... NOTHING. There was nothing but regular old 1960's houses.

That was the last time I saw it; never again.
This experience haunts me till this day every now and then; it will remain with me for the rest of my life. I am now 46 years old and the memories of it does come back once in awhile.
So yes: it does happen to some people."