Paranormal Journal

The Lighthouse Ghost

In the small town on the northern coast of California that I live in, there is a lonely lighthouse on a point, reaching out into the cold ocean. My whole life, I've heard the stories. Haunted. Cursed. Full of the energy of the past. When I was little, these were the stories I heard at sleepovers and around campfires. I never put much thought into them. But, back then I didn't know that I was a psychic. I hadn't yet become a paranormal investigator, or a witch. Times have changed for me, but the lighthouse remains, as it always has. I decided recently that it was finally time to look for the truth of the lonely lighthouse.

The stories go like this; a man named John was hired to be the head lighthouse keeper when the structure was originally built, and he moved into a home near the lighthouse with his three daughters. One was of marrying age, but was sickly. The other two were twins, around age fourteen when the family moved to the area. It didn't take long before John began losing it. His coworkers and the townsfolk thought he was a drunk. He'd rant and rave about sirens and other creatures of the sea beckoning to him, calling for him to join them in the water. He was arrested once when he began to fire his revolver into the waves, causing a disturbance. The town was already in the process of finding a replacement, when John died, apparently having fallen into the waves and being dashed against the rocks. His daughter were to move to a nearby inn, where they were offered employment. All three of the girls refused, saying that they could not leave, that the sea was calling to them and they needed to join their father. No one knows what ended up happening to John's daughters, but apparently they "never left." Story goes, you can see two girls, identical twins, staring at you from the windows of the house that they lived in. Similarly, John is seen, jumping from the cliffs. When visitors rush to help the man, no one is found. Sometimes he is also seen in the windows of the lighthouse itself.

I started my investigation at the library. I love my local library. It's one of the few places in this stupid town that isn't bubbling over with fascism. It's quiet, and in this place I can be left alone to do my research or discover new worlds in precious books. Anyways, this is where I began. I asked for history books on the town, and the lighthouse in particular. Luckily, there were several. Not all were useful, so I narrowed it down to three that did in fact has information on the history of the lighthouse and it's keepers.

Here's what I found out: many of the detail from the old stories are, in fact, true. The original lighthouse keeper was named John Hollings. He did have three daughter; Ethel, Sybil, and Tabitha. They're mother died before the came to California. John did pass away under myserious circumstances. That's all that I was able to get to prove the old tales, but it's more than I thought I'd find, if we're being honest. Still, I wasn't entirely satisfied. I knew there was more for me to discover, so I decided I needed to visit the town museum.

At the musem, I thought I had hit another dead end. I browsed the exhibits (mostly just old photos) and found next to nothing. Then, the singular attendant who works there asked me if i was curious about anything in particular. I was surprised by this, as she was an older lady, and most older people think I'm some kind of freak up to no good because of my makeup and clothes. But she was really nice, actually. I told her that I was interested in the lighthouse, particularly John Hollings and his family. I never would have guessed what happened next. She knew EVERYTHING. Apparently the story is true. John hollings worked at the lighthouse for the first 3 years of it's existence and within that time, the townpeople observed him "slowly going mad." He was arrested twice, actually, for firing his gun at unseen specters. She was even able to tell me about what happened to his daughters, and John's body. He was buried on the property of the lighthouse, but the exact location is unknown. At this point in the town's history, there wasn't a dedicated cemetery yet (EDIT: out town cemetery was in existence, but at this time it was just a few scattered plots, and many people still buried their dead closer to their homes.) As for the daughters, they did move to the inn, where they were put up in a small cottage and worked as maids, except for Ethel, the sickly sister who was wheelchair-bound. She lived with Sybil and Tabitha for a few years, before being institutionalized due to her illness. This fact is a little but heartbreaking. The poor girl lost both her parents, and when there was no one left to take care of her, she was just sent away all alone. What a cruel world. But, on the other hand, maybe she got out just in time. Things did not end well for the twins.

Sybil and Tabitha Hollings met a strange fate, just like their dad. The townsfolk hypothesized that maddness ran in the Hollings family. At the age of eighteen, The girls died in a murder-suicide. The were found at a beach near the Inn, laying in a pool of their blood and seawater. It appeared that Sybil stabbed Tabitha to death, and then slit her own throat. No one knew why, but the fact that their final moments were on a beach, just like their father's, is hard to ignore.

With all this new information, I decided it was finally time to investigate the lighthouse itself. On Friday after school, I drove out there, paid for a guest ticket, and walked the historical grounds. It's beautiful out there, nothing really spooky at all. Honestly, I'd come back here any time. It's interesting, historical, and lovely. But, if you take a moment to really feel your surroundings, you can tell that this Lighthouse holds on to it's memories. It stands tall, foreboding, a memorial to the history of this sleepy seaside town. In a world of 24 hour drive throughs, this ghost of the past still looms on cliff's edge. I could feel that there was something here for me to discover.

I took a look around the outside of the old house, where the Hollings family had lived. It was closed to visitors at this time, so the porch was as close as I could get. Here, I tried to tap into my natural psychic abilities. And, well, I felt something. And it was something that I wasn't exactly expecting, but maybe I should have expected. It was...longing? Need? Desperation? Desire? I can't exactly describe it right, but as soon as I felt this, I was reminded that the Hollings sisters didn't want to leave. This is what I felt. I felt their need to never be separated from this place. That feeling was so strong, that it never left.

Next, I took my self-guided tour of the lighthouse itself. I feel like a lame tourist saying this, but, it was actually so cool and fun, even without the ghostly story. It's a beautiful building, so interesting and different from anything I see in my day-to-day life. But anyways, back to the point: ghosts. When I got to the top, where the hatch to the giant light and lens is, I reopened myself to the energy around me. This feeling was different. It was...angry. Confused. The residual energy of someone who's lost all higher brain function and is living purely by one emotion: anxiety. I knew this was John, and his fear of the spirits/creatures calling him into the waves. It was so strong, that I almost began to feel it myself. It felt like fighting something when you know it's futile.

I waited for a moment when their wasn't anyone else around. When I was sure that I was alone, I took out my pendulum. It would be odd to carry in anything like a ouija board, etc. so all I could get away with was my little crystal point. Anyways, the first thing that I asked was, "am I alone?" The pendulum swung, and I got the answer that I'd hoped for: no. Next I asked, "is John here with me?" Yes. "John, are you afraid?" Yes. "Were there spirits here when you arrived?" Yes. "Did they kill you?" No.

This I found interesting. So, he wasn't killed by these spirits. So what, then? Did he truly jump from the cliffs to end his suffering? Or, was it actually just a random accident? I needed more answers but, alas, It was broad daylight and I was in the middle of a tourist attraction. I couldn't exactly hold a seance here. So, I asked him one final question, "are your daughters here?" No. I said a quick thank you, and pocketed my pendulum. I didn't solve the mystery of the Hollings family, but I did confirm that the stories I'd grown up hearing were true, and that felt like a victory. Or, at least, an itch scratched.

On my way out, I looked back at the lighthouse, and saw what I first took to be more tourists in the window. But then I realised that what I was looking at was the figure of a man, staring back out at me. A tall, stocky man, dressed in old fashioned clothing. There he was, the lighthouse ghost. A character from my childhood campfire stories, staring back at me. Showing me that he was still here, that his story was not yet concluded, and perhaps never will be.