By Eric Baxter
Staff Writer

Editor’s note: Always obtain prior permission to enter any area for a ghost hunt. I parked across from Concord’s Old North Cemetery, clicked the lock button, took a deep breath and crossed the road to the burying ground. Stepping inside the fence, I asked myself, “What would Harry Price do?”

Thankfully, there was no response, because no one likes surprises when touring land set aside for the dead, as I found out on my first try as a very skeptical ghost hunter.

These two headstones set Concord resident Jake Knoll’s nerves jumping during the investigation. Paranormal theory has suggested the spirits of the once-living often return to where their bodies are buried.

The Old North Cemetery is a small plot of land, bordered by four brightly lit, assuredly alive, streets and homes. At 8 p.m. on a recent Friday night, it was dark, filled with mystery and dotted with brooding grave markers. It was also one of the few places in Concord with open public access, and, oddly enough, one of the few haunted places in the state’s capitol city, though investigation results yielded only a few tantalizing clues.

While there are a few well-known hauntings in Concord – the cell at Tio Juan’s, the city’s former police station and jail, there are only a handful of others, and this scarcity of supernatural activity is a curiosity in and of itself. While most histories fill a few pages with myth and legend, Concord’s seminal history, by Nathaniel Bouton and published in 1856, has only one passing reference about a reverend that drove ghosts from a home in Hopkinton. More recent collections are also spiritually anemic. Even Concord’s long-time informal historian, and former newspaperman James Milliken, couldn’t provide stories beyond the Tio Juan’s haunting and one alleged ghost at the Siam Orchid restaurant. Calls to local contacts, including members of the recently formed Concord Historical Society, finally yielded hints that something could be paranormally afoot at the Old North Cemetery, the final resting place of Franklin Pierce.

This is the point in the tale where Harry Price steps in. Price is acknowledged to be the first ghost hunter as science defines, or more accurately refuses to define, them today. On May 25, 1937, Price began a systematic and long-term investigation of England’s Borley Rectory. The rectory, later dubbed “the most haunted house in England,” was allegedly built above the foundations of an old monastery and was the site of the frequent, and often violent, ghost activity that ranged from the sighting of a hooded monk figure to the home’s owners having plates and furniture thrown at them by unseen forces.

Price’s findings were ultimately inconclusive and I could sympathize with the long-dead man. My investigation on that Friday night yielded precious little as well.

Staff photographer Heather Matthews, graphic designer Kristin Ellis-Crawford, and Concord residents Jake Knoll and Matt McFarlin joined me. In the informal investigator’s handbook, the first step when hitting a site is to gather some first impressions. My own were of slightly jaded annoyance. It was cold and other evening activities beckoned in warmer, indoor locations. Knoll, who lived for a time in a haunted house during his youth, simply wanted out of the graveyard.

While Matthews, Knoll and McFarlin scouted for locations for photo illustrations, Crawford and I made our way into the older section of the cemetery. The white soapstone and granite of later markers gave way to the slate first used by settlers. Headstone designs also shifted, from the urn-and-willow motif of the late 19th century, representing body and soul, to the skulls and wings of the earlier makers who were fond of adding “Tempus Fugit” to their work – “Time claims all.”

It was in this area where the strange sensations began. A tightening of the chest, the dropping of temperatures beyond the usual cold and half-seen fever visions flitting across the edge of vision. As we regrouped later, McFarlin said he’d sat on a bench alone and had the distinct feeling he was sitting next to someone.

With photo illustrations wrapped, Matthews began shooting photographs near some of the spots where the odd feelings cropped up. A few of the photos showed small light anomalies, which many hunters believe are spirit manifestations. One of the sites, two older stones standing side-by-side, yielded a small orb no amount of examination could explain away as a trick of light, reflection, or digital artifact. It was also the site where Knoll said he had felt ill and very out of sorts. A few steps away, and the feeling passed.

Ghost hunters claim success rates that range from 100 percent success to less than 10. Ron Kolek, lead investigator for the New England Ghost Project, said he rates his success at about 40 percent. Success, for a ghost hunter, is usually defined as recording or experiencing some type of paranormal activity – a sound, a smell, a light anomaly, a physical object moving, sometimes even an alleged full-blown ghostly apparition.

After more than an hour, a short time by ghost hunter standards, I had a few odd feelings, a few possible anomalies and a lot of lingering questions. None of us left as true believers. But like Price, my interest in paranormal possibilities had been heightened. As for other skeptics, I can only suggest a night in the dark and cold, among the dead, to dull any sharp certainty there is nothing beyond the here and now.

Mirror Publications • Manchester Articles • Concord Articles • Single Cynic • Married Cynic