Ghost Hunting

UKRAINIAN CULTURAL VILLAGE Feb. 27/10

A dear friend of mine Kirsten suggested that we go check the ghosts out at Ukrainian Village. So Thursday last, Kirsten, Emmy (Kirsten’s 2 year old), Ranjit, Ranjit’s 17 year old sister, my granddaughter and I all met at Asian Village and then left in 2 cars to travel to Ukrainian Village. It was a beautiful sunny day and the snow in the fields we passed (as we headed out of town) was so bright, sunglasses were not an option. We chatted and discussed rumours that we had heard.

However, Ukrainian Cultural Village was closed. In the distance there were old houses, open fields, some yellow school buses, and a large parking lot. So we drove through and parked the cars. So Kirsten stayed in the car with Emmy while the rest of us checked out the very long red, two-storied building in front of us. The door was unlocked and a long dining room with tables set in an L pattern greeted us. Chairs were placed at the tables while eggs, candles and wax sat in front of each chair. We called out and no one appeared, so we walked through the dining room to the back end of the building. A sign pointing the way to a company on the second floor encouraged us to climb the stairs. Open cubicles with lots of sunlight brightened the casual office setting. A man and a woman appeared, answered my questions and pointed out the way to find the administration building. We thanked them and left.

Outside, we turned to our left and walked up the hill to more buildings. A sleigh pulled by 2 dark brown Clydesdale horses, driven by a sullen looking teenage boy in a peaked cap and dark period coat accompanied by a man sitting in the sleigh dressed in the same hat and coat, passed us. Two big yellow school buses stood at an entrance to some buildings. Again, I asked for directions and a bus driver sent me toward the alcove park entrance. I told the receptionist who came out from behind a wall we wanted to check out the rumours of ghosts. We were directed to see another man, Arnold. In Arnold’s office, I explained that I wanted to write a paper on the activities in the village. Arnold told us about the stories, gave us a site map and the circled the building which were the most active. He said the buildings might be locked, but we could take a look. We thanked him, then Ranjit called Kirsten to leave the car and join us.

Out first stop was Harwlick House. The doors were locked, so we stood on the porch and peered in the windows. Dark wood floors gleamed as I saw a woman standing in front of a far window inside the house, staring at me. She was thin in a dark brown dress with a high gathered collar. The dress seemed like a heavy material, like wool. Her hair was piled on her head and strands of her hair stuck out from her head. She was lonely and sad.
She had been married to someone she didn’t love, had been married off by her family. No one else saw her and there were no people actually living in this village.
Off we went to the next place. This was an old train station. Darjit, Ranjit’s sister checked out the doors and they were open, so we went in. A young man appeared wearing a cap, a white striped shirt, and a thin string tie (maybe). There was a living room and kitchen in the back with bedrooms upstairs. A family lived here. Upstairs, I saw a buxom older woman with pinned up hair come towards me and disappear. The energy was very light, not a bad place.

We moved on to other buildings which my friends would check to see if they were open. An old barn held horse stalls and I saw a man in old time clothes wearing a peaked cap, dressing two horses. It could be old energy or newer stuff that was here because the barn was always used.

A cluster of houses, mostly barns and out buildings yielded the passing view of a young girl. She was in the kitchen of a whitewashed mud built house. Blond, young, no more than eleven years of age, she smiled as she passed the stove, then disappeared. The girl was dressed in old clothes and had her hair held back. My granddaughter saw a cat winding its way through the kitchen.

Walking back to the beginning trail, we saw an old hotel. A man’s thin face, sporting a mustache, peered from the top floor of the hotel. It was as if he was secretly watching for someone. The hotel was open and we walked through the kitchen to the common room and the dining room which was in the midst of renovations. Up the stairs to the small bedrooms and no one greeted us.

We certainly did not need to wait until dark. If there are spirits, they are always there not just at night. Spirits are stuck due to a number of reasons. I have seen scenes over and over again of traumatic situations which replay again and again. The participants are not dead but the negative energy sticks around.

To end the day, I drove the wrong way back to Edmonton for half an hour. We were so busy talking that I paid no attention to my direction of travel. We laughed about it, for we understand that everything happens for a reason even if we never know the why.