KNIGHT OF THE LIVING DEAD
“Who ya gonna call?” Ghostbusters! said the millions who lined up in the mid-eighties to see the smash hit movie from Columbia Pictures. But who ya gonna call in real life? According to Vanessa Gilchrest, UPI, “If you’re having trouble with a ghostly, unexplainable chill permeating the family TV room, or an unruly poltergeist making sleep next to impossible ... you need someone to chase out that ectoplasmic nightmare. Who to call? ...Dr. Andrew Nichols.” But I’m not Ghostbusters. I don’t always get the ghost and I never get the girl.
So what’s a Ghost Detective? Take away the ghostbusters’ proton pack, jump suit, and fifty-million dollar budget; make him sit around dank old houses waiting for something--anything-- to happen, and what you have left is me. Thankfully, my adversaries have been less spectacular than Gozer of Babylonia.
This is my story and the story of the haunted houses and haunted people I’ve investigated during the past two decades. The Ghost Detective is an honest and factual account of the experiences I shared with my clients--the victims of these sobering disturbances. It was taken verbatim from tape recordings, from hand-written notes, and personal recollections. It is, to the best of my ability to relate, the faithful depiction of my adventures. As founding President and Research Director of the Florida Society for Parapsychological Research, I have served as master of ceremonies, organizer of research projects, and procurer of guest speakers. In 1998, I formed the American Institute of Parapsychology. The AIP is a counseling and educational organization dedicated to the advancement of parapsychology as a profession, and to serve as a resource center for those wishing to explore the meaning and transformative value of psychic experiences.
Recently, in the middle of “Sweeps Week,” a frantic time for program directors as they press to garner more than their share of the media’s bread and butter--the ratings, MSNBC aired a program called True Believers. Me and some of my competitors were among those invited to display our talents. As a professional parapsychologist, I frequently appear on the tube. The host introduces my competition to the TV audience. I’ve never seen them in action, but I’m told they locate the spirit’s “cold spot,” encircle it, then move as one body slowly toward the front door. After which, the door is thrown-open and the invading spirit thrown-out. According to one of their members, “What we do is ... surround the entity using mental thought patterns-and ship it off.” “How do you get rid of ‘em,” she asks their leader? (I guess she means if they refuse to ship-off.) “Well, we say prayers and just hope that they’ll leave,” her reply.
A professor colleague at City College asks me, “With all the weird characters you must run into, how can you take any of this stuff seriously after listening to them?” “It isn’t easy,” I concede.
In my eagerness to help them, I’m sometimes exposed to crackpots and dingalings. Peculiar to the subject of things metaphysical are the mildly to severely afflicted people out there looking for a platform to voice their maladjusted opinions and paranoid delusions. Concepts like apparitions, telepathy, psychokinesis, and especially doctrines that advocate the black arts are appealing to the
borderline personality. By appearing to bend the laws of cause and effect, these notions give a kind of legitimacy to their own cockeyed view of the world. The tales they tell range between amusing and absurd.
Finishing up a parapsychology lecture at the University of South Florida in 1994, I was approached by a young man who greeted me with, “Here I am! Got your message.”
“Pardon me?”
“I heard your lecture.” Putting his finger to the tip of my nose, he explained: “I knew you wanted to talk to me, so here I am. What did you want to tell me-about Madonna, I mean?”
“I’m sorry, but I don’t think I have anything to tell you.” I figured the guy was a few bubbles short, but since I had been paid to appear at the university, I ought to at least hear him out. It seemed he was having a relationship with Madonna-if only in his mind:
“She’s crazy about me!”
“Who is?”
“Madonna!”
“The singer?”
“Yeah!”
“How do you know?”