Seifermann Family Reunion

Today I attended the Seifermann family reunion in Lake Henry, MN.  Population 103.  The reunion attendees alone doubled that number today.  It was so fun to go to since the Seifermanns are my Grandpa Roman's family.  Roman passed away in 1991 at the age of sixty-three from a brain tumor, I was eight and have only a few memories of him that I hold very dear.  I actually researched the Seifermann family tree about six months ago and it was an incredibly easy undertaking since Roman and his siblings were second-generation American.

The get-together had your typical LOLs.  Like, Ambrose, an elderly relative with a familiar name who is now in need of a walker.  On his walker was a colorful sign with the words "Ambrose!  Don't Forget Your Walker!" in large, bold, black type taped securely onto his walker.  I'm sure that sign is useful, but only if Ambrose is standing directly in front of his walker, in which case, you would think he wouldn't forget to take it with him...paradox.  And my mom's cousins referring to each other as "old hag" which is something they used to do when I was a kid, the quick German spoke between each other than I am pretty sure isn't real German, more of a slang created by the immigrants to speak among themselves.  I would attempt to type what the words sounded like, but it would just end up looking like this: "Kuuuttglickkitz" or some variation of.

But the best, best part was seeing my Grandpa's siblings.  They all look like each other!  My Grandpa's parents, Martin and Anna Seifermann, had ten children.  Loretta, the eldest girl, died when she was 15.  She died, no joke, from a piece of corn husk getting stuck in her ear.  Apparently they couldn't remove all of it and an infection occurred and she died from it.  Something my sister Cori remarked today as, "something really preventable."  But they were dirt poor German immigrants living on a farm, they did what they could.  So, out of the nine remaining, who would be Theresa, Sylvester, Margaret, Roman, Herb, Celestine, Martin Jr, Joseph and Alois, only Celestine, Martin Jr, Joesph and Alois remain.  Martin Jr. stopped me today as I was making my way back to the food table, "Are you Roxanne?"  "Yes I am!"  I said.  He then told me a story about how he used to come and visit "Roman and Lillian" (my Grandparents) all the time and he remembers me and the time we went to claim a lottery ticket no one else wanted to cash in on.  I don't recall this AT ALL, but I enjoyed hearing about it.  He then told me how he was tired because he missed his afternoon nap.  I hear ya, man.  His wife, Louise, then walked by me, smiled, grabbed me by the shoulder and said, "You little turd."  Aww...I must have made an impression as a child.

I didn't want this moment with Martin Jr. to slip away so before I left today I asked him if he would take a picture with me, he obliged.

In the background sitting is Joseph, another one of my Grandpa's remaining siblings.

Someone also but together a beautiful scrapbook of the Seifermann family tree.  My sister Cori and I were looking over it and she was snapping pictures of the photos with her iPhone so we too could have a copy of them when we were suddenly surrounded by a swarm of elderly relative looking over our shoulders and pointing themselves out in the book:

That arm in front of me is my Grandma Lillian's sister Jane's.  Lillian and Jane married bothers, Roman and Herb, respectably.  Jane is now covered in tattoos, marking each time she has beaten a bout of cancer.  I asked her why she decided to get tattoos.  She told me, "I told my kids, 'I have never done anything unusual. So what the heck?'"  Right one, old lady.

Those pictures in that book where remarkable.  My mom gave me a photo book she had with a lot of the way back relatives in it, but these are some pictures I have never seen before!  Like this guy!

Cori and I dubbed him There Will Be Blood since he looks just like Daniel Day-Lewis from that movie.  I believe this is my grandpa's grandpa.  So, great great?

Then there was this photo of all the Seifermann children after Loretta died.  

Cori also had the smarts to take a photo of who's who:

Looking through this book made me want to dive back into the history I discovered about my family only a few months earlier.  I don't really know much about record keeping at the time the big push of immigration from Europe happened, but if I'm not wrong people of English, Scottish and Irish heritage have an easier time tracing their ancestors since those countries were so diligent with record-keeping.  I don't know why some countries like Germany weren't, but I feared I would be a little overwhelmed when I went to trace the Seifermann's route to the United States.  I was pleasantly surprised!

Without getting into too much tedious detail, (I won't tell you the name of the ship they came over in or anything.  It was the Zeeland.  There, I told you.)  But that family's origin is in Buehlertal Baden, Germany, which is located in the Black Forest region of Germany (where the ham comes from) that is most famous for its cuckoo clocks (and ham).

It all started with Christian and Gertrude, in Germany:

My God, that's a handsome couple.  Why aren't wedding pictures staged like that anymore.  No touching, look like strangers, with no real affection for each other.

These two happy folks came to the United States on the Zeeland and settled into Spring Hill, MN in 1880.  They had two kids, Martin and Agnes.  Martin went on to marry Anna Eichers, a good girl from Cold Spring, MN and they had the boatload of aforementioned kids.  Here are Anna's parents, Paul and Appollonia, on their what I'm sure was incredibly romantic wedding day:

Can I just lay claim to the name Appollonia right here and now?  Take that, Prince.



One of my favorite pictures I have in my possession is the one of Christian Seifermann and his family in Germany:

  If that isn't a grim snapshot of life in Europe in the 1800's, I don't know what is.  From my understanding (I could be wrong) I believe Christian's parents, Agnes and Ignatius (Ignatz) later came to the United States once their son was established.  Like I said, I could be wrong, but I remember hearing the name Ignatz a lot when I was younger (that's not a name easily forgotten) and I think my relative spoke of his as if he were here.  I would check with my mom on this but I'm pretty sure she's in bed by now.

I did attempt to trace the family tree of my Grandma Lillian's family, but her last name is much more common (Klausen) and her family history isn't as easily traceable as the Seifermann clan was.  I will one day divulge into the Klausens as best I can, but until then, I still have this picture of my Grandma and her sisters at their First Communion:

The Klausen's are another pair that had a bajillion kids and one or two died under unfortunate circumstances.

Overall, the reunion was a blast, and there was this cool car there!  My husband informed me it was a Model T.

The best part of the reunion though, aside from all the funny incidents and silly stories and seeing old relatives was telling people I was Roman's Granddaughter.

Love you, Grandpa.

**UPDATE**  My aunt Carla just called me and informed me that Loretta indeed did not die from a piece of corn getting stuck in her ear.  She, along with my mom and just about everyone else, was under the same impression that that was what happened, when in fact Loretta had some sort of sore in her nose that she was picking at while the kids were working out in the cornfield and THAT is what became infected.  No mysterious monster corn chunk got jammed in her ear or anything, it's something much less unusual, but none the less sad.  Thanks Carla!

Vampire Traditionalist

I saw my cousin Olivia the other day and she had recently started watching True Blood.  "I think all the authors and whatever else, of vampire stories, should all get together and like, decide on a set of rules for all of them to follow.  They should all be the same."  Olivia is only 21, and she was s Twilight superfan when all that noise started out, around 2008, when she was only 17.  So, imagine your only real exposure to vampires and the vampire mythology were those emo sparklevamps from the northwest who love to attend high school, I think you too would be a little taken aback when you discover what ahem, "real" vampires are really like.  Mostly, that they tear out humans throats, turn their heads 365 degrees while having sex, and yes, vampires have sex!  Why wouldn't they?  What else are you going to do with you immortality?  I think you'd become a pansexual faster than you can say "What's a pansexual?"  What some consider real vampires are brutal killing machines that have little or no regard for their human counterparts.  So, ya know, the opposite of Twilight.


I don't remember my first exposure to the vampire genre or mythology.  It was probably Interview with a Vampire, the movie.  It came out when I was 12 and somehow I managed to see it (my sister Cori's exposure started even younger.  My mom and aunt Carla took my sis and our cousin Adam to go see Bram Stoker's Dracula in the theater while me and Grandma were enjoying Home Alone 2: Lost in New York in the next theater over.  I just remember the look on Cori and Adam's faces when they walked out of the theater, it was a mix of confusion, horror and boredom, while Ma and Carla tried to walk a few feet away from them, as if to say, "We just didn't take these two 10-year-olds to see this movie, what?")  I don't remember how exactly I came about seeing Interview with a Vampire at such a young age (clearly, Mother wasn't exactly strict on what her kids were watching) but I think I learned all my vampire mythology from that film.  How they're created, how they live, how they can die, what they do to pass the time, why little kids should probably never be turned into vampires, etc. At the time, I didn't realize there could be so many different rules for one fiction creature to abide by.

Mostly in protest to it's fans, I never liked Buffy The Vampire Slayer.  I'm sure it was a fine show, clever and all that, but I really hated Buffy fans.  They were so smug, so I always got a kick out of declaring my contempt for their beloved show, and then I ended up marrying a Buffy superfan.  Yes, I still tell him that Buffy is stupid, and he still huffs and puffs and grumbles about how I am stupid and wouldn't know quality TV if it hit me over the blah, blah, blah, ya know, general Buffy fandom smugness.  And of course, even without me asking, Jim had to explain to me the origins of the vampires on Buffy.  Like if I heard just how mind-blowingly awesome the Buffy vampire mythology was I would watch the show and then realize that it was the most amazing thing ever to be put on television.  That part has yet to happen.  Apparently though, the vampires on Buffy are demons, so that's why their faces go all squishy-like when they go all vampire.  I was mostly tuned out when Jim was telling me about that, but I think not only is that a dumb mythology, but what a cop-out.  Then the vampires committing all these atrocious acts are totally blameless if their bodies are just being taken over my demons.  I have a feeling that was created so there is always a sense of redemption just right around the corner for the vampire characters.  I don't agree with that.  Either have a bad guy be a bad guy because he's a bad guy, or don't have any bad guys.  It's the main reason I hate the live-action version of How The Grinch Stole Christmas with Jim Carrey.  Oh, he's a grinchy asshole because his parents were mean and the kids picked on him or whatever else.  Um, excuse me, I believe he was a grinchy asshole because That's. Just. The. Way. He. Is.  Certainly, I have no problem with his heart growing at the end of the story and him realizing the true meaning of Christmas, but c'mon, I don't require all this back-story.  I'm going off on a tangent here, I just really hate that movie.

Also, hinging it's explanation of a vampire on a biblical theme is my most hated/favorite vampire movie of all time, Dracula: 2000.  Possible the worst movie of all time, not just in the vampire genre.  But, that particular Dracula was apparently Judas....so that's dumb too.

I think if you are going to have a vampire character make him a vampire because he got bit by another vampire.  I like that explanation the best.  It makes sense.  To me, the idea of a vampire and the act that a vampire commits are all just metaphors for real life things.  If you are bit by a vampire you become one, the same way if you are in some sort of contact with someone with a highly contagious disease, you catch it.  But, unlike the way I have acquired this cold from my toddler niece from letting her drink out of my water bottle and letting her give me snot-filled kisses, the way one "catches" vampirism is much more violent.

Which brings us to what the whole vampire thing is about which is pretty much sex.  Either consensual sex, non-consensual, gay, straight, whatever.  The act of penetrating someone with any part of your body...and exchanging fluids, be it blood or....whatever else, that's sex, yo.  I think this is why people like vampires the most.  They can either be the sexiest damn things on the planet or they can be terrifying rapists hiding in the shadows, but you don't necessarily have to be a vampire to be either one of the aforementioned things either.  That is how we relate to them.  If you take away all the blood and just take them at their drive and desires and how they feel when they commit the acts they have to to survive, whether or not they feel remorse, if they seek out willing victims, if the purposely seek out the not-so-willing, if they try and choose to abstain from what they desire the most, or indulge without apologizes. It's all the same with human behavior.  So, I think it's a bit of a disservice to humanity in general (I know, that sounds pretty grand and sweeping) when you take away the best euphemism for base human desires and behavior and try to explain it away with, "...Oh, it's just a demon." it's not really fair and I think that is why that particular mythology bothers me so much.

I don't consider myself an expert on the vampire genre or folklore or mythology, but I am a fan, and I like my vampires brooding, blood-drinking, kinda fancy, and will totally burst into flames if the step into the sun.  I'm an old-fashioned girl.

I hope this blog post made sense.  Like I said, I have a cold and it makes my head cloudy and I think I am blowing my nose to frequently some brains are escaping.

Best People In The World Are Medium People

Last night I had my first experience with a medium.  Well, it wasn't my first experience with this particular medium.  In fact, I have known Christy since 2001.  She is my sister Cori's best friend, I used to babysit her kids (and her eldest daughter has now has babysat my daughter, so I am getting old...) but Christy is only recently decided to actively peruse feelings, dreams, and visions she has always had her entire life.  I asked her if she wanted to come with me last night to my very first official meeting with Anoka Paranormal Investigations, not only to take some pics of the group (she is also an excellent photographer) but to also meet some like-minded people who won'y think she's a weirdo or insist on her seeing a therapist.  We had a great meeting, got so cool pictures taken and Christy got to chat with some great people (because API is all great people) about her abilities she is trying to cultivate.  She even got some great advice for next time the three nasty demons she dreams about show up.  Whistle or sing.  Knowing Christy, she'll probably try singing some Motley Crue.

After the meeting her and I went back to my house armed with some wine and ordered a pizza.  As we sat and chatted I told her I wanted her to look at the house across the street from me because that is were Claire lived.  Claire killed herself in January by walking into traffic on busy Highway Ten, which is right up the road from my neighborhood.  Claire's death really hit me hard, and I am still trying to make sense of why.  I would have in no way considered myself her friend.  I thought she was a really weird woman.  She dressed like a teenage boy, she was, what I thought, super inappropriate with the kids in the neighborhood.  She had them come into her house, she would let them sit in her car in her garage and just hang out, she would give them sodas and let them listen to her headphones and that type of behavior, for a single adult, man or woman, with no children of their own, threw up a red flag for me.  So I was less then willing to let my stepson go over there and hang out with the other neighborhood kids because...I just was.  Even when I would tell him..."Okay, you can go over there as long as so-and-so is over there with you but NO going in her house and NO going in her garage." I would still look out my bedroom window and watch my stepson over there and his body language told me he was uncomfortable and apprehensive, and he never stayed for long.

I would talk to Claire very rarely.  A friendly hello on the way to the mailbox.  She came and talked to me when I was pregnant about having a baby.  When you saw her close up and looked at her you could tell she just wasn't 100 percent mentally, something was missing.  Last time I talked to her was a day on one of the last few warm months before she died when I was out on my front steps with my cats.  "Oh, I have a cat too!"  She told me, which she had told me before, but I wasn't going to correct her.  Also, like she had warned me before, there are hawks and other large birds I should watch out for when I have my cats outside because they could swoop down and grab them and fly away with them (good luck, birds, my cats are fat and sassy.) I nodded politely and listened to her go on.  She then told me how old her cat was and how her vet told her "the only reasons your cat is still alive is because you both love each other so much."  I thought that was very sweet.  And that was the last time I ever spoke to her.  Like I said, we weren't friends.

Claire died at the end of January, but no one knew where she went until March.  Me and my husband Jim would speculate that she was out of town or maybe sick.  Jim then pointed out to me that her garbage can hadn't been at the end of her driveway for weeks.  As we were leaving one afternoon a van parked in her driveway and a man and a woman both got out carrying paperwork and a clipboard....as much as Jim and I wanted to sit in the car and gawk, we didn't.  A few weeks after that a man showed up to her house, opened the front door, and stood in the doorway staring out into the street with his hands on his hips looking confused.  I called my sister, "I think Claire is dead."  I am not psychic and it wasn't a feeling I had, I am just really good at putting two and two together.  The man, Jeff, who turned out to be Claire's brother, caught me outside later that day when I was out with the dog.  He introduced himself and told me what happened to his sister.  I was floored, not only because I knew about the person walking out into traffic on ten (my in-laws called us to make sure we were okay because they drove by the accident and it was so close to our house and I was out on ten on that exact same spot not fifteen minutes before it happened.) But also because that night I spent so much time mulling it over for some reason, and trying to imagine the guilt I would have felt if I had hit someone on the highway.  It really bothered me.  And then my sister also found Claire's online presences, and it was devastating.  She talked about her mental illness, her many suicide attempts, the fact that no one cared how ill she was.  She had no one.  It crushed me.

Eventually her family cleaned out her house, I got into a fight with my other neighbors about them basically stealing her stuff and the fact that I watched them do and so I called the police on them (which you can read all about here, if you like) I figured if I wasn't her friend in life, the least I could do was make sure some low-level criminals didn't ya know, steal her identity in death.  Her brother left, he said goodbye to the neighbors who helped him out (me, Nice Old Lady Jan, etc) and we went back off to his part of the world.  I even talked to Nice Old Lady Jan about the who situation and she even told Jeff "Well, if you have a memorial service or something for her, let us know."  Her family didn't even do that for her.  Ugh.

So, last night, as I was telling Christy all this and I was in tears because this affects me so much, this whole situation and I don't know why, Christy suddenly said, "Well, she's here.  Your emotions and energy have brought her here, and she thanks you."  More tears came out of me, and I started to go off about the thug neighbors who were stealing her stuff  "She says that nothing in that house meant anything to her, it was just stuff." "I know," I said, "But it's still not right for those people to do that." I managed out between my blubbering, "She really appreciates that, Rox." Christy said.  Now Christy wanted to test herself, "Don't tell me what color her car was.  I want to see if she will tell me."  So we sat quiet for a bit, then Christy said, "Was it green?"  which it was.  I wasn't freaked out about this, it actually made me feel better, but I was still upset, "If I had known how depressed she was or how alone she was, I don't know, maybe I could have done something to help her." Christy shook her head, "She says there is nothing you could have done, and she's patting you on the head right now.  She also understands why you weren't her friend.  You had nothing in common, and your responsibility first and foremost is to protect yourself and your family."  Christy also said Claire is getting the help she needs and she is being taught that the way she acted was inappropriate with the kids, but she is also learning why it was and why some people might have thought she was strange and she's learning.  And she's not in hell because she committed suicide.  She actually had a moment of clarity before the car hit her, a moment of regret, and she also had some other kinds of drugs in her system too when she decided to do this.  She is now learning and growing now that she's dead, and things are better for her, and apparently she appreciates the feisty little neighbor across the street defending her stuff.  Also, her cat did die around the same time she did, which was my first thought when I learned that it was Claire who died on the highway.  I figured she just didn't want to live without her cat.

Christy and I then went outside to look at her house. "She's not there." Christy said, "She's not attached to that house.  I have a feeling her whole family shut her out and that really broke her heart too."  I nodded, that seemed about right.  Her family wasn't flippant about Claire's death, but they didn't really seem all that broken up about it either.  Someone (I suspect Nice Old Lady Jan) put a stone angel statue on Claire's front step after her family left for good, "She wants you to have that angel."  Christy told me, I said there was no way I was going to go over there and take it from her house, "Well, if you find yourself coming across something similar to that, just know that it's from her."

I dried my tears after we went back into the house.  I apologized to Christy for being such a spaz about the whole things, and poured myself another glass of wine.  The way Claire died (and frankly, the way she lived) still makes me very sad for her, but I do feel a bit better knowing that she is finding some kind of peace and it is also a huge relief for me to know, since I always believed this anyway, that people who commit suicide don't go to hell.  Why would they?  If they are in that kind of mental and emotional anguish while they are alive that they feel their only option is to take their own lives, why would they be forced to suffer an even worse fate after their deaths?  That is not the kind of God I believe in.

When Christy left last night she assured me there were no more spirits in my house (she also picked up an adult male presences, which me assumed was my Grandpa since I was holding his prayer book my mother gave me for protection as I embark on this little journey I am taking with API) but he didn't stay long.  Christy also tried to do a "read" on me to see if I had any spirits that stayed with me all the time, but I don't.  Apparently they only show up when I am sobbing uncontrollably about them.

We did have a good evening and the API meeting went great and I have so much content now to add the the website and Christy got great pictures of the group and individual ones, and it's nothing but onward and upwards from here on in for Anoka Paranormal Investigations!  Oh, and Christy was also invited into the group.  Woop, woop!

Oh, quick update on our garage sale!  Yesterday was the last day and at the end of the day a very nice man came in, bought all of my sister's kinda slutty shoes, a long leather coat, a keyboard, and some wine accessories.  Turns out, he was totally a porn director!  Like, a travelling porn director!  He had the whole thing set up in the back of his van.  Ha!

Garage Sale In The Halloween Capital Of The World

First of all, thanks to Ghost Bait for giving me the idea to actually blog about this via Twitter in the first place!  This experience has been rife with blog fodder now that I think about it.  And you guys should totally follow them on Twitter, @iamghostbait.

The last two days I have been assisting with putting on (hosting? having?) a garage sale at my sister Cori's house in The Halloween Capital of the World, our town, Anoka, MN.  She is really in a prime location for garage sale havin' so we figured, what the heck?  It's more of an experiment than really a money-making venture, and a opportunity to get rid of some stuff I don't want anymore (clothes from high school, why did I keep you?!) But the cherry on the top of the sale has been the people, oh the people....

Anoka is a part of what is considered the "Northern Suburbs" of Minneapolis.  Anoka itself has a less-than-stellar reputation among, well, every other city in the state (and, well, maybe the nation) but I live here because I know Anoka, like most things with a bad reputation, is a wonderful place to live, with wonderful people, and wonderful things to do, and we all aren't bigots, and nutsos and evangelicals or voted for Michele Bachmann....and I technically was raised in Oak Grove so if anything, I can be like, "I don't know what Anoka's problem is, I grew up on Oak Grove."  Shirking responsibility!  The American Way!  Another part of the American Way is making a buck off your neighbors, so here we go!

We opened on Thursday morning, technically at 8am.  The ad in the town paper and on Craigslist was very clear on the 8am opening, so naturally, we had people there at 7:30 as me and my brother-in-law Derek were hauling things out of the garage.  One lady was so keen on looking she even offered to help me move things into the driveway, "Oh, no, that's okay..." I said, mostly thinking "We didn't take out small business liability insurance for these next three days so if you like, break your foot or pull a muscle helping us...." but she was insistent and started grabbing things mostly just to create a path for herself into the garage, Hoarders style.  She did buy a few tables though, so, rock on, lady.  Am I distrustful that my first thought is that she might hurt herself and then try to sue us?  No, no I'm not.  I'm a realist.

The other couple that pulled up a half-hour early was an elderly couple who was full of advice.  "You're gonna want to move those garage cans out of your garage, otherwise you'll stink up the place."  He told Derek, while he was in the midst of carrying a heavy steel clothing rack loaded with clothes out into the driveway.  Derek didn't offer a response, but hauled his garbage and recycling bin out of the garage quickly.  Heh.  Today he said he was going to tell the old man, "Well, you can go sit in your car for another half hour while I finish setting up and come in here at eight like the ad said."  Oh, I love older people, most of the time.  But some of them are so full of advice that they feel they need to dispense unto us youngins' it can get a bit trying.  He also complained about the dress pants he was buying for 50 cents had a little bit of dog hair on it.  Derek suggested he wash them before wearing them.

After the first few early birds we got what would mostly be called the "I'm on disability" crowd.  Those middle-of-the-day people who don't necessarily work from home, or stay home with their kids or don't work because they are millionaires, or because they got laid off or because they're retired, or on vacation.  No, these people are out in the middle of a weekday going to garage sales because they got nothing else to do.  Now, I would just like to preface this next little tale with this.  I am a very nice person, but when I get around my mom and my sister, I get kinda mean-spirited.  Those bitches bring out the worst in me (I love them, though) and the same goes for them.  We are known as The Three-Headed-Monster on most occasions when we get together.  A couple came in, very thin, very face-sorey, very....Anoka.  The woman, no joke, looked exactly like Amy Winehouse, but what she would look like if she was in her forties.  Lots of black hair ratted and piled on top of her hair, about 5'10, maybe 100 lbs, tops.  Missing a few teeth, ya know.  And her old man was your typical Anoka resident out in the middle of the day (I wish I could transport all you readers to my hometown just for a day, you would understand what I am talking about) they were very nice people, a little tweaking, and left without buying anything.  "They were mad we didn't have and Sudefed."  I snapped.  Ma and Coco laughed.  I felt a little bad....Meth jokes!

We did actually had a killer day yesterday.  We all made mad bank and are very happy with how it went, and people weren't too bad with trying to negotiate prices.  One guy did come in and buy all the baby clothes I was selling for sixty bucks!  Wow!  He got a bit of a deal, but he bought them all in one shot!  He had a baby girl coming in a month and a half and I think he was scrambling a bit.  My mom sold almost all of her furniture she had on the sale, and my step-son was making money hand over fist selling his nearly-mint condition action figures (he is a very neat child, that comes in handy.)  All in all, we had a great day!  It was a lot of work, and I am pale and have (fake) red hair, so sitting in the sun was bit hard on me, so when I told my husband I would put our daughter to bed at 8pm last night....I fell asleep next to her and didn't get back up until this morning.

Today wasn't as exciting as yesterday was.  We didn't sell as much nor were we as busy.  We actually got kind of bored.  We started reading to each other from the Time Life Strange But True magazine I brought over to my sister's house this morning.  I was scolding for believing that crop circles were created by UFO's.  But we all made fun of my sister for that time she texted me from Jackson Hole, Wyoming and asking me if jackalopes were real.  She assumed they lived in the Alps.  "Yeah, with Maria Von Trapp." my mom said.

Tomorrow is the last day of our kick-ass sale.  I am planning on bringing a few new things to add to the inventory tomorrow morning just to keep things fresh (and see if I can make a little more dough, of course.)  Since it is Saturday and Anoka is a happening town, we are hoping to get a bit of traffic from the people heading to the Classic Car Show that Anoka hosts every Saturday night in the summer, and people heading to the huge aquatic center up the street.

If you are in the Minneapolis area, come see us!  The ad is online...I would totally promote it here, but I think my sister would kill me until I was dead if I posted her address on my blog.

The Halloween Honey's Summer Road Trip

This is all a very hypothetical post.  While two of these locations are within my great state of Minnesota, real life responsibilities often get in the way of fun.  Stupid real life.  However, since it is Memorial Day weekend, the unofficial start of summer, if life worked out exactly the way I wanted it to, this is what I would do this summer.

Road Trip!  Or, more accurately, weekend trip!  Last week my friend Karen planted the seed in my brain that us girls should take a road trip to the Villisca Axe Murder house in Iowa.  It is approximately six hours from the Twin Cities area and a very do-able trip.  We have birthdays about a week apart from each other in June and I suggest it we do it to celebrate our birthdays, but then, Karen came across some information that made her think she missed the boat on visiting this creepily historic location.  Apparently, the owner is newly widowed, and decided she no longer wanted to own the property, so it goes up for public auction on June 2nd!  Oh no!  What if the new owners decided to make it a private residence and raise their young family there?!  Highly unlikely.  None the less, it lit a fire under our bums to make us want to go there even more, hopefully, our wish to go there in June will be fulfilled.  But the idea of road-tripping to Iowa (What do you call a 100 John Deere tractors in Iowa circling a Dairy Queen on a Saturday night?  Prom.  HA!  Minnesotans love/hate all our neighboring states, we kinda think we are better than the rest of them.  What do you call a pretty girl in Iowa?  A tourist.  What does Iowa stand for?  Idiots Out Wandering Around....okay, I'm done.) made me want to be sure to see all the haunted/infamous for horrible reasons locations in the Midwest before they too are sold at public auction.


Aside from Villisca (What do call a pig on a tractor in the mud in Iowa? State Fair.) there are two locations I really want to try and visit this summer, and if I can spread all these locations out over the three official "summer months" June, July, August, I can totally do it!  First up is a location I have already been to!  But I was five and didn't care at. all.  I just remember the tour guide gave us candy at the end of the tour and that was the best thing evah!  I got Smarties!

Te Glensheen Historic Estate:

Located in beautiful Duluth, MN this historical 39-room mansion was build by lawyer Chester Adgate Congdon, who was originally from Rochester, NY in 1908.  Even though Congdon came to Duluth as an attorney he came to be a huge influence in the iron and copper industries in the area.  When he passed the mansion was left in the hands of his daughters Elisabeth and Helen.  By the time Elisabeth was 35 years old she found herself unmarried with no children.  She decided to open her home and heart to two adopted daughters, Jennifer Johnson and Marjorie Congdon.  Marjorie was....not a well girl.  She was considered the black sheep of the family and constantly asking her mother for money.  She was even officially diagnosed as a sociopath in the early 1940's, but since we all know how well the mentally ill were treated in those days no actions were taken to improve her condition and no mention of her affliction was ever made.

Marjorie went off into the world on her own, married, and had seven children of her own, whom she spoiled with the majority of the spoils coming from her mother Elisabeth.  After things went south with her first husband Marjorie remarried Roger Caldwell, and began to beg her mother for money even more than usually.

On June 27, 1977 at the age of 83 Elisabeth Congdon was found smothered to death by a satin pillow in her bedroom.  He night nurse, Velma Pietila was found on the window seat bludgeoned to death by a candlestick.  It seems she was trying to protect her patient from the assailant.

After much drama and a long trial Roger Caldwell was eventually found guilty of murdering his mother-in-law and her nurse, and Marjorie was was tried with aiding and a bedding but was found not guilty. Marjorie and Roger stood to inherit 8 million dollars.  The pair claimed Elisabeth was refusing to give them the money before she passed.  They wanted to money so they could open a horse ranch.

In 1988 Roger Caldwell committed suicide after his sentence was overturned and converted to a lighter sentence.  In his suicide note he claimed he did not kill Elisabeth Congdon and Velma Pietila.

Marjorie has gone on to live (she's still alive) a life of crime and general craziness.  She was convicted of arson, twice.  In fact, in Arizona, where she lived after her first arson conviction in Minnesota, she was found guilty of 11 counts of arson.  She was accused of killing not only her third husband, but also his previous wife via poisonous marmalade!  She's out now, of course, and as recent of 2010 has been accused of trying to bilk fellow senior citizens out of money through internet fraud.  So, she has adapted to 21st century technology when it comes to being a bad person.

I have been to the Congdon Mansion, officially called the Glensheen Historic Estate (which is now owned by the University of Minnesota Duluth) but like I said, I was about five years old when I was there and was BO-RED the entire tour.  The house was old and musty, the tour guide was old and musty and I heard Mom and Dad whispering about a murder or some such, but the guide played stupid whenever anyone would ask him about this.  Even when I was five I wanted to hear all the salacious details.  I would love the opportunity to go back now that I am older and appreciate things like...old musty houses and people.  Plus, my sister Cori was there only a few summers ago and she says the hype the hell out of it being the "murder house."  They even bring you into the room where it happened.  Aw, way to go, Duluth.  Finally realizing that is the main reason people go there.

As far as investigations at the Glensheen Mansion, I have never heard.  Of course the possibility of it being haunted is high.  Two gruesome murders of two well-liked, kind-hearted women motivated by greed is pretty much a perfect recipe for trapped spirits and high paranormal energy.  Minnesota Ghost Hunters: Has there ever been an investigation at the Glensheen Mansion?  I can't imagine it would be very easy to get any kind of permission from the U of M to get in there at night alone with your group.  Plus, 39 rooms is a lot of ground to cover, but I think there are a few groups in Minnesota that would love to tackle it.

The second location I would love to visit would be The Palmer House in Sauke Centre, MN. I don't know much about this location, but I know it is in high demand with paranormal investigators.  So much so The Palmer house has the luxury of charging paranormal investigation groups to get in there and snoop around.  Sauke Centre, however, oh, I know me some Sauke Centre.  It is one of those towns that falls into the category of "Up Home."  Sauke Centre, St. Joe, Avon, Melrose, Grey Eagle, Spring Hill, all these little towns just north of St. Cloud  I have relatives sprinkled throughout all these small little towns.  My Grandma grew up mainly in Melrose (population, 300-something) and now refers to all of these locations as "up home." She has my entire life and it will always be that way.  In fact, my great-grandmother was in a nursing home in Sauke Centre and passed away there at the age of 94 in the mid-2000's.  You can't kill those hard-headed German women, I tell you.

Unlike Glensheen, The Palmer House plays up it's paranormal reputation.  They host past life regression sessions, psychic readings, and, like I mentioned earlier, paranormal groups chomping at the bit to get in there for a little looksy.  Again, unlike Glensheen, The Palmer House has been featured in quite a few media outlets, TV, books, even Minnesota's own Darkness Radio.  In fact when the Ghost Adventures crew was in Minnesota a few weeks ago conducting a lockdown, I have a pretty good theory they were at The Palmer House.  Mostly because Zak Bagan's tweeted pictures of himself grocery shopping at a Coborn's and all Minnesotans know Coborn's only exist Up Home.  Well, I have a Coborn's about two miles up the road from my house...so does that mean I live up home?  Anoka is considered a part of the Twin Cities...whatever, it's handy when I want ice cream and don't want to change out of my comfy pants.  Who am I kidding?  I go to Target in my comfy pants.

So my road map is laid out before me!  The easiest location for me to go to will probably be The Palmer House.  I'm actually going Up Home for a family reunion next month!  It's not in Sauke Centre, though, it's at some chicken farm in a town I've never heard of, but...well, I'm pretty excited about the chickens.  I once went to a bridal shower on a pig farm!  But, Sauke Centre is probably an hour and twenty minutes tops away from my house, Duluth maybe two hours.  Villisca is the furthest, therefore going to be the trickiest to make happen since my main responsibility, my 18 month daughter, can't be dropped off at the YMCA daycare so I can work out for 45 minutes without freaking out.  That may be an exaggeration.  She does well at grandparents' houses.  It's not like I would leave her at the Y daycare for 12 hours.

Anyways, as it is in summer in Minnesota there is a thunderstorm a' brewin' outside right now and it's making me nervous because I don't like scary weather all that much, so I'm going to go now.

Thanks for going on my hypothetical roadtrip with me, friends!  Let's all go!



 

Interview With A Ghost Hunter

The one question I was meaning to ask last night and I didn't was, "Do you prefer the term 'Paranormal Investigator' or 'Ghost Hunter'?"  I think if it were me I would prefer Paranormal Investigator because Ghost Hunter conjures up an image of Ghostbusters and Elmer Fudd (wabbit hunter), but Paranormal Investigator means you can investigate ANYTHING paranormal. UFOs, Bigfoot, an array of monsters, and if you are cornered by your more conservative relatives and they ask you what you do, you can say, "I'm a PI" and let them make the assumptions they are going to make, which would be that of you sitting in a car with a long lens camera taking pictures of someone's cheating spouse in a dumpy motel.

Last night I had the extremely good fortune to meet with an interview with real deal Paranormal Investigator Ross Beard of Anoka Paranormal Investigations.  We met in the pouring rain last night at Billy's Bar and Grill in the great city of Anoka, a town we had quite an interesting discussion about, but I'm saving that nugget for another blog entry.

I came to know of Ross after attending a community education class he taught, Ghosthunting: 101.  I found the seriousness and passion he approached the subject with to be quite impressive.  I sort of thought it would be kind of a "Ha, ha, ghosts right?!" type of class (it was a held at a bar, for Pete's sake) but it wasn't.  It was a very eye opening experience and made me realize how much actual work and science goes into this sort of "hobby."  I reached out to Ross to see if he would be willing to let me interview him for my little bloggity boots here and he was more than receptive, AND by the end of the interview I found myself being formally invited into his group, Anoka Paranormal Investigations!  I told him that I was a huge chicken and me doing investigations may be something long, long, if ever, in the future, and I would love to play more of a behind-the-scene role as some sort of Web Mistress for the group, which he agreed to.  Just happy to be on the team, coach!

I started out with the most basic question, "Why Paranormal Investigating?  How does someone get into this field?"  Ross said he had been interested in this sort of thing since his early teens growing up in Mound, MN.  "I was the only one who would, ya know, spend the night in the haunted house as a kid." He also credits the show Ghost Hunters as being a huge influence as to why he went into the field, "When I first saw it I was like 'Finally, someone is showing this stuff.'"

Being a busy working husband and father doesn't really lend itself well to this sort of field, however.  Ross did admit that he does find it hard to strike a balance between investigation and evidence review and family life since the former is such tedious work.  "We have five camera set up, all running for six hours.  That's thirty hours of footage that needs to be gone through, along with still photos, digital recordings, and everything else.  It takes a lot of time away from my kids.  When we first go into it we thought it would be kind of fun and light-hearted, but for the clients, we are their last hope.  They contact us when they have no one else to turn to, when they're one step away from going to the loony bin."

"It's worth it though," Ross continued, "for that whisper of an EVP, for the shadow you catch for a split second on video."

There are some people in the world who aspire to live in a haunted house, but for most people it is not the ideal situation.  That is why Anoka Paranormal and most other paranormal investigating groups stress confidentiality.  "They don't want the neighbors to know, they don't want people coming over to their house to know." Ross said.  When investigating, if Ross is able to debunk something he isn't disappointed, "That's our job.  To debunk, do find another reason for why all these things are happening.  We present the information we find to the client in black and white.  Good and bad, no matter of what the evidence we collect."  Anoka Paranormal is also a big believer in getting the family involved with the investigation.  "We had one lady throw us her keys, say 'There's a frozen pizza in the freezer and pie in the fridge, lock up when you leave!'  Oh no, get back here, your helping us."  Ross believes when doing an investigation they are merely taking a snapshot of their 24/7 lives in this location, they need to be in on the investigation, "And of course, for liability reasons."  Ross has discovered most activity seems to happen in the early morning hours.  I asked him why he thought that was.  "If you go outside in the in the middle of a sunny day and shine a flashlight, how many people are going to notice that?  Now if you shine that same flashlight in the dark, when everyone is quiet and asleep, you'll get a lot more notice."

As I spoke to in an early blog post about the Paranormal and Religion, I had to ask Ross if he did anything special to prepare himself for an investigation.  "Prayer of protection." he quickly answered, "And I tell everyone else in my group to do the same thing to whatever they believe in."  He said that is something you fast become schooled in, what other people believe.  Not only to help the homeowners and guide them in the right direction when it comes to "cleansing" the location, "We haven;t done our job unless the family is at peace.  When we present some people with the evidence we collected and it shows that their place is haunted some people say, 'Okay, cool great.' And don't want to do anything about it, but most people ask us, 'What do we do now?' and that is when we need to contact a priest or whatever they believe or feel comfortable with to help put these spirits to rest."  Ross then said, "That's something you never seen on all those shows.  They are never done, they never do anything to help out the owners."

"What do you think of all those shows?"  I asked him, "Ghost Hunters is my favorite, but in the last few years they started using emotions as evidence and I don't agree with that."  I asked him about my personal fav, Ghost Adventures, "Those guys..." he said, "They get what they ask for.  You go out looking for something demonic, you're going to find it."  Ross has so far been truly blessed (in my opinion) to not come across anything demonic, but we did have a rousing discussion about Ouiji boards and I said if I were ever stupid enough to use one and found that, whoops, opened a gate to Hell, I said I would burn it.  "No!  Never burn it!"  Ross said, "You drowned it!  They can't cross water.  But it's not the Ouiji board that opens gateways.  It's the people.  People don't realize how much power they have."  Amen brother.  I asked him how willing the clergy has been with not only talking about these sorts of thing,s but with helping out if need be.  "Depends on who you talk to.  And if you don't like what this guy has to say, all you gotta do it find another priest."  He then alluded to having a priest on speed-dial, as it were, who has helped him out with many investigations.  I asked who it was and what church he was affiliated with, but I was shut down, in the nicest way possible!

We then got into the science of things.  Now, this is the part I have a hard time wrapping my TV-and-wine soaked brain around.  I get it, in theory, but I don't get it.  It's like math.  I'm terrible, TERRIBLE at math, but I had one teacher in one grade in high school and with her I got it, but then I forgot it, so oh well, at least I passed.

"I tell people all the time, it's more about physics than it is about paranormal."  Ross said.  He was kind enough to keep the science chat to a minimum because I told him, "Yea, I don't get it."  He gave me a brief lesson on quantum physics (for those of you who know me, you can only imagine the look of confusion mixed with horror on my face, but I really tried hard, you guys!  It was like when the monkey in Homer Simpson's brain set the tambourine down and and pointed at the person talking to him like, "Pay Attention!") And when Ross was telling me about how the city of Anoka traps energy because of the limestone beneath the streets filled with quartz I was fascinated and kinda annoyed at myself that I didn't understand it better (I'm saving a lot of the Anoka-centric and Billy's stuff for another blog post.  Local interest!) Maybe I should see if community ed. offers a Science For Dummies Who DayDream Too Much class.

I asked Ross if there was any location he would flat-out refuse to investigate.  After a bit of contemplation he answered, "No."  Well, how about this then, I asked "If you ever run into something demonic, would that make you quit?"  "No."  He answered.  Bad Ass.

I had such a blast interviewing Ross last night and I got to hear first hand some great ghost stories about not only the place we were sitting in, but a lot of private homes in the area.  So, thank you, Ross for letting me interview you and I so look forward to working with Anoka Paranormal Investigations!  Funny story, when I was trying to tell Ross all the great marketing opportunities the internet has to offer I told him, "You can purchase domain name for thirty dollars for two years!" He literally took thirty dollars out of his wallet and threw it at me!  It was awesome!  I felt like some sort of stripper!  Make it rain!

Happy (Or Sad?) World Goth Day!

It's World Goth Day today, according to the internet.  I'm not sure exactly what that means, I assume it is a celebration of all things Goth.  Music, fashion, trends, that chick on that one show, etc.  I'm pretty excited about it though, the timing is a bit funny since I heard a song on Pandora Radio that I hadn't heard in years and it took me back to how Goth and cool I used to be.  No lie, being a parent makes you a total lame-o.  The song is called Counting Bodies Like Sheep To The Rhythm of a War Drum.  I can't exactly listen to that with my daughter hanging out in the backseat.

 I used to be what I am calling a "pseud-Goth" back in my teen years, late '90's and early 2000's. An admired of the aesthetic, hair, clothes, make-up, but approached it reeeeeeaaaaalllly half-assed.  And I assumed my undying love and devotion to all things Nine Inch Nails and Trent Reznor were enough to bring me into the Goth fold, I just figured no one had to know how I once declared, "I've never heard a Destiny's Child song I didn't like!"

 It was a culture that celebrated music, I love music and I used to devote A LOT of time to it.  I had a subscription to Spin Magazine (I was, and still am kind of against Rolling Stone since they never a feature a female on the cover without her in some state of undress) I sought out almost every new band they recommended, and I even had cool friends that would make me mix tapes of songs I wouldn't have otherwise heard (not that I don't have cool friends anymore, I just don't have a tape player anymore.) I had black hair, I wore almost exclusively band t-shirts or my dad's clothes (my parents divorced around this time and when I would spend the night at my dad's house I never packed clothes, so I would always end up rooting around in his closet long after he went to work for something to wear to school.  What a weirdo!) And I was generous with the eyeliner.  But I could ever really get on board with the thought and feeling behind what I thought being "Goth" meant.  I was never an outcast (even though I often wore men's clothes) I was generally a happy girl and me and my sister loved to blast some pop and hip-hop music quite loudly in whatever beater she was driving around at the time.  I tried to be sad and mopey, but it just didn't fit on me.  I loved, and still love, the emotions in Nine Inch Nails's music because I think it's something I've never experienced and the empathy in me rises up and I love it because it's a nice emotion to feel even if it kinda bums you out at the same time, and they kick so much ass live, Best Concert Evah!  And I saw them only a few years ago when Reznor was WELL into his forties, I can only imagine what it must have been like to see him fifteen or twenty years ago.

I was pretty good at convincing the normals that I was a real Goth though however because in those days I worked at a gym (a total job for a Goth, right) and one of my fellow tan, blonde male employees walked by me and just yelled "Marilyn Manson!" When I later approached him with a "WTF?" he said, "I'm sorry, it's the first thing I think of when I look at you."  Whatever, dude.  Since I was such a Reznor purist I took that as an insult.  Even when I was out of high school and working my first full-time job as a receptionist at a law firm my co-worker (and now one of my longest friends) Christy used to call me "Goth Rox" and I didn't even have black hair anymore.  Maybe there is a part of me that is Goth to it's core.  That's aiight.  I still look at those kids with affection, and I look at the Goth adults with even more revere.

It's hard to make the transition to a teenager with poor, Hot Topic provided fashion choices to an adult who has to live and function in the real world.  There aren't many who can make the leap with grace and be taken seriously.  Those in the entertainment industry have it easier especially if they came into the game with that vibe.  Robert Smith of The Cure still slap-dashes his lipstick and brushes his hair with a pillow and gets out there and sings those songs like he did twenty-some years ago.  Same for Tim Burton, Neil Gaiman, and even my beloved Trent Reznor.  He's more of a muscle man who has an Oscar a neatly clipped hairdo look, but he still for sure gives off a Goth-y vibe.  And to a lesser extent, Zak Bagans (I seriously just typed his last name "Baggins" as in Bilbo) from Ghost Adventures.  He is an adult with a Goth look.  Black hair, black clothes, t-shirts with some of the most decorative crosses I've ever seen this side of the jean pockets of a Real Housewife.  But he's also pretty muscle-y...maybe the trick is that you need to either be the artistic wisp you once were in the '80's with strange hair and glasses, or you better hit them gym.  Maybe I was ahead of my time, working at a gym in the throes of my Goth phase.

I will always hold a special place in my heart for the Goths of the world.  They are my spirit animal, as it were.  

Happy World Goth Day, friends!  Even if you weren't ever a Goth, you probably know a couple, or knew a couple, or were set up on a date with one, like that one dude that wore a long leather duster jacket and spun in a whimsical circle singing Tori Amos songs (that ones for you, Christy.)