NOTES FROM THE DOLLHOUSE - THE MYSTICS AND THE TUNNELS

Meet me at the front door, please?

I want to show you my dream house that I want to buy!

Some say not to buy her.

She is haunted!

I grew up listening to the local ghost stories about New Brighton, intrigued by the beautiful architecture of the old mansions and the tales of the brave community that conducted the underground railroad.

Each home is unique and quite different from the rest. All throughout town, gorgeous homes and buildings still stand proudly. Many of these early homes had tunnel systems and hidden rooms. They were used to protect slaves as they made the journey towards building their new life. New Brighton was an important place for many souls to rest and heal.

Incredible mansions, some that look like castles, are spread out all around town. Some still remain in stellar condition, while others are in dreadful conditions. Most are somewhat in between.

I stood at a crossroads.

Which direction do I go?

Do I go south and live out my later years in the sand and sun?

Or do I spend my days at the dollhouse, restoring her and telling her story to whomever will listen?

My heart ached for the opportunity to live in the dollhouse. A replica of my childhood dollhouse, the dollhouse was something I had also wished for. I had regretted not buying her, when we had the chance to, years ago. If I didn't act this time, it would haunt my soul.

But is the dollhouse really haunted?

Can I live in a potentially haunted home with my husband and daughter?

And to what level of haunted, could this be?

The idea of even considering this made my stomach turn.

I reached out to previous owners and they all spoke of loving their time here. No spooky tales told. Some minor strange mentions, but nothing to fear.

My friend's friend lived here decades ago.

My friend always spoke of a little girl spirit that they interacted with. Small handprints would appear and disappear on the ceiling in a bedroom. Mila's bedroom, or Eleanor's room, as Mila calls it, is an interesting space. The lights flicker in here, Mila says, especially to music.

But is the dollhouse haunted?

Doors close by themselves constantly.

Sometimes chatter or music can be heard faintly.

The feeling of eyes watching you always.

The home seems almost soundproof.

It is easy to lose track of time here.

You never feel alone.

Everything has an essence.

Everything has an energy to it.

And that energy can manifest and show itself in ways, not everyone notices.

I notice more than most.

I help others see things that they do not notice.

I will not try to explain my abilities as I sometimes do not fully understand my gifts of sight and sound.

I walked the dollhouse many years ago, blessing it with loving intent. My friend had requested I help the young girl spirit move on.

I remember being so nervous, clenching a rosary in my right pocket. I could not stop sweating, as I walked the house, blessing it. I thought I was going to break the rosary!

The rosary was gifted to me when my aunt passed. She was of Catholic faith and I am not. The rosary is made of pressed red roses and came from the Vatican.

I am very knowledgeable and educated in Hoodoo and understood the Catholicism that was woven into Voodoo traditions during America's early days. The rosary was needed and I was now in a situation that I had never imagined experiencing. A situation I had only read of in my studies.

I blessed each room, the sun lighting up the way for me. Still clenching the rosary, I could smell the roses. Their fragrance kept me from passing out as I walked the enormous dollhouse that day.

I chose to not buy the dollhouse then, unsettled by the experience.

The next several of years, I thought about the dollhouse constantly. Why am I so attached to this place?

In a wild twist of events, last November, I taught a workshop and spoke of the dollhouse. I was considering a home nearby, but was hesitant. My heart really wanted the dollhouse.

I mentioned not letting her go again, if the chance ever presented itself. A few days later, the dollhouse went on the market.

I found myself at a crossroads.

I am a woman of my word.

I am an intense woman.

I chose the dollhouse.

Instead of the beach.

My curiosity made it an easy decision.

Is she haunted?

The idea of telling the amazing stories of incredible people, lit a flame deep within me.

We all have stories to tell.

Each one of us lives an epic life that no one else experiences. Our epic lives should be celebrated! Our epic tales should be heard!

I have gifts and abilities.

We all do.

You do.

Uniquely yours, unlike others.

Together our gifts create the world we experience.

I can see and feel what some cannot.

Visions like movie scenes flash in my mind.

It is like listening to multiple radio stations or watching multiple monitors simultaneously.

Maranda can go anywhere, anytime. My sweet friend Maranda had cleared and blessed the boutique and deli for me. I needed to ask Maranda!

Maranda, is the dollhouse haunted?

Can you meet me there?

I must know!

Meet me at the front door, please Maranda?

Is the dollhouse haunted? What do you see??

I'll meet you at the front door Maranda.

Maranda, where are you?

I cannot see you Maranda.

Maranda?!?!?

It's dark!

I cannot breathe!

It is so difficult to breathe!

I cannot stand up!

This space is tight!

This space is small!

My chest!

It is so hard to breathe!

Hot, sweat, dirt!

I am in a hole!

Under the ground somewhere!

Below the basement!

I was sucked under the basement, into a tunnel?!?!?

I cannot get in the house!

I only made it to the front door and was aggressively pulled into the ground below!!

I am in a tunnel!

There are underground tunnels!

I am in one!

I cannot breathe but I feel so happy?!?!?

My heart is racing in excitement?!?!?

I feel free?!?!

I hurt!!

We hurt!!

I am not alone!!

There are others in the tunnels with me!!

We are happy because we made it!!

But the pain, the fear, can be deeply felt in the ground here.

I made a crucial mistake and never asked the dollhouse permission for my friend Maranda to enter. The dollhouse was not mine to do so!

At the front door, she was pulled underground, underneath the dollhouse into an intricate tunnel system.

Maranda has never physically been to New Brighton.

She lives on the west coast.

Her ability to put herself in any time or place is a mind-blowing experience.

She did not know the town's history.

She did not know about the underground railroad safe houses in town and their hidden rooms and tunnels beneath the ground.

The gifts of the mystic.

Eyes to see all and a heart to feel like no other.

We walk in the seen and unseen worlds equally at all times.

The journey to discovering the history of the dollhouse and her past owners have just begun.

Months later, I asked Maranda to meet me at the dollhouse again. The dollhouse was now vacant and we were preparing to purchase it. I asked permission this time.

Maranda will you please meet me at the dollhouse?

We will be moving in soon.

Is the dollhouse really haunted Maranda?

Why do I feel so safe moving here?

Meet me at the dollhouse, Maranda.

I asked her to meet me in the great room, this time.

I will be there soon, I told her.

Maranda entered the great room.

She met the chief.

He was waiting for me.

Patiently waiting for my return to the dollhouse.