FSB Author Article
Paranormal Plus -- The Nicholson House
By Deborah LeBlanc,
Author of Water Witch
The first clue that made me suspect the house might be a hot spot (a location with real paranormal activity), came the moment I stepped onto the front porch. A pulling sensation traveled throughout my body, as though a magnet lay hidden beneath the porch and my innards had suddenly turned to metal. Judging from the earnest whispers coming from the rest of the investigation team, I knew they were experiencing the same phenomenon. We snapped a few pictures of the surrounding area, then made our way to the front door on wobbly legs.
(Nicholson House -- Front porch on the left.)
The owner was expecting us, so it didn't surprise me when she answered
after only one knock. Mildred, dressed in a cornflower blue housedress
and white tennis shoes, greeted us with a warm smile and after a short
round of introductions, welcomed us into her home.
The pulling sensation vanished as soon as I crossed the threshold.
The house appeared much smaller on the inside, with its low ceilings
and clutter of memorabilia that dated back to the mid '40s, when
Mildred had reigned as the first Miss Louisiana.
As the elderly woman led us through the living room, all the while
chattering about the "ghost friends" who lived with her, I noticed a
portrait hanging on the wall beside a narrow staircase. It appeared to
be a macabre version of the Madonna and Child. When I asked Mildred
about it, she explained that back in the '40s, a family member had set
out to paint the portrait of a demon he saw regularly in his dreams.
When he finished the portrait, however, it so terrified him, that he
quickly painted over it with an image of the Madonna and Child. The
holy image was his way of repenting for having painted the demon in the
first place. The revised painting didn't stick, however. Over time, the
faces began to change, as though the original painting wanted to regain
possession of the canvas.
After
telling the story, Mildred urged us to follow her into the kitchen for
refreshments. I asked if she'd mind if I went upstairs to check out the
room right above us, which had served as a makeshift hospital during
the Civil War.
Mildred shook her head. "I wouldn't go up there right now if I were
you. That's where they live, I think, and they're not exactly thrilled
about all the extra company today. Give 'em a little time to get used
to y'all hanging around." With that, she flashed me one of her
brilliant smiles, then headed for the kitchen.
We followed, each of us throwing furtive glances over a shoulder,
itching to know what didn't want us upstairs. Curiosity finally got the
best of me, and I began to lag behind. After all, Mildred didn't
specifically tell me NOT to go upstairs. She'd just sort of suggested
it.
When the coast finally cleared, I crept over to that narrow staircase.
The moment I touched the first step, the pulling sensation I'd
experienced on the porch returned. With every hair on my arms standing
on end, I took another step up, then another. By the time I reached the
sixth step, the pulling sensation was so powerful, I had difficulty
breathing. I stopped, sucked in a deep breath, then lifted my right
foot to take the next step. No sooner did my sneaker hit the cypress
plank than something unseen shoved hard against my left shoulder. I
gasped and reached for the banister, but before I was able to grab hold
of it, I was shoved again, harder this time, and I found myself
stumbling down to the last step.
Okay, I may be a Doubting Thomas, but I'm not stupid. I took the hint
and hurried away to find Mildred and the rest of the crew.
(Note the banister to the right of the picture. This is
the staircase that led to the upper room.)
I didn't tell anyone about the incident, but Mildred must have
suspected something because later on, when she gave us the all clear
for the second floor, she looked at me with a mischievous twinkle in
her eye.
(Three crew members checking out a hideaway beneath the
Nicholson House.)
Unfortunately, our equipment didn't capture any paranormal images that
day. But I didn't need pictures to prove what I already knew. Something
lived in the Nicholson's house, and it didn't appreciate nosey guests.
©2009 Deborah
LeBlanc, author
of Water Witch
Author
Bio
Deborah LeBlanc, author of Water
Witch, is an award-winning author from Lafayette,
Louisiana. She is also a business owner, a licensed death scene
investigator, and an active member of two national paranormal
investigation teams. Deborah's unique experiences, enthusiasm, and
high-energy level make her a much sought-after speaker at writer's
conferences across the nation. She also takes her passion for literacy
and a powerful ability to motivate to high schools around the country.
She is the president of the Horror Writers Association, the Writers'
Guild of Acadiana, Mystery Writers of America's Southwest Chapter, and
an active member of Sisters in Crime, the National Association of Women
Writers, and International Thriller Writers Inc. In 2004, Deborah
created the LeBlanc Literacy Challenge, an annual national campaign
designed to encourage more people to read, and soon after founded
Literacy Inc., a nonprofit organization dedicated to fighting
illiteracy in America.
For more information please visit http://www.theleblancchallenge.com/