A Desert Haunt Part 4-Guest Blogger

 Excited to publish Part 4 of Guest Blogger Rick's story, A Desert Haunting!  Truly an amazing story.  Although Rick gives us a lot credit throughout the story, he and his family are the ones that dealt with the issue head on.  We only provided a little push, along with some inspiration to come forward and do the things that needed to be done.

That is the whole reason we share our story, to help others and give them strength to deal with something that is torturing them.  

If you'd like to catch up on Rick's story you can do so by clicking these links, Part 1, Part 2, and Part 3

If you'd like become a guest blogger and share your story, we encourage you to do so!  Our goal remains to help others and give them strength.  Sharing your story could help others get the help they need!   Click here to become a guest blogger!

As always thanks to all  of you for your continue support and kinds words!

Lance & Jennifer

A Desert Haunt, Part 4

Looking back on the events that led us to conclude our rented desert house was haunted, it is interesting to see how slowly the events unfolded. Writing this story has actually helped put these things into perspective.

To recap: We moved into the house in February 2018 and lived in relative calm while we settled into our new environment, not realizing the changes that were very slowly building up over that first year. Several "new" things happened at the beginning of 2019: a used shed arrived one week in January and Buddy showed up the next; Sheri's horse riding lesson program took off in February so that people were coming onto the property on an almost daily basis; that led to Sheri adding another horse for kids to ride in March; also in March we added a corral, shelter, and round pen to accommodate the horse and improve the riding lessons.

We always linked the arrival of our rescue dog, Buddy, as the catalyst that ramped up the activity level in our home. Putting these events in context makes me wonder if it wasn't the combination of all those changes. But letting Buddy move into the house with us was the first time something sought to get our attention. Like most people (I assume) we tried to figure out logical explanations for the falling/moving/missing objects, the noises, the uneasiness, the mood swings, the illnesses. It got harder to explain things away the more frequent, physical, and personal they became.

Between January and May, the activity escalated so that we had no doubt we were living in a haunted house. In fact, the whole property was haunted. We had become complete believers! I tried to find a way to deal with the activity, but I admit we were living in fear of the unexplainable.

As I mentioned in Part 3, Memorial Day weekend 2019 set us on the path to learning to coexist with our situation.

That Saturday morning Sheri noticed a car turn into the area in front of the house and stop. She wasn't expecting any students, so she went outside to see what they wanted. Inside the car were two women and a three- or four-year-old girl. It turns out the driver, and younger of the two women, had lived in this place with her grandparents for a couple years starting in 2010.

The young lady was with her mother and child that day and just felt the urge to visit. She said her grandparents really loved living at the place and she wanted to come by for the good memories. She said her grandparents added the irrigation for the lawn and planted the two mulberry trees in the little back yard, they built the deck and planted the roses at the front the house. Her grandmother kept a couple horses in the same area we had ours. She said she had good memories of living here, which was a really happy time for them.

Sheri asked if they had ever had any strange experiences while living here. The two women exchanged a glance. The young lady went on to say that in 2012, her grandfather had a massive heart attack while in the house. They called an ambulance, but he was pronounced dead on arrival at the hospital. It's highly likely he passed away on the property. Shortly after his passing, she and her grandmother moved away. At the time of this visit, her grandmother was living in a nursing home in Arizona. They were interested in why Sheri asked the question, so she invited them inside where they could talk more comfortably and include me in the conversation.

After coming inside and filling me in on the connection our visitors had to the property, we started telling them about what we were experiencing. Walking to the area by the loveseat, Sheri explained this is where we would often smell cigarette smoke. The granddaughter said that’s where her grandfather had his chair, and he was a heavy smoker. He would either smoke in his chair or on the back porch - the other area we would smell smoke.

We explained that all the activity inside the house seemed to pick up after we brought Buddy inside. The two ladies said the grandfather was especially opposed to a dog being in the kitchen and around the dining area. It so happened that we had placed Buddy's kennel at the end of the dining table. This was probably not something he would have approved.

They didn't stay long, but in that short time they validated much of what we were experiencing. Maybe the most unique validation was when Sheri mentioned how her bra would unsnap right at the front steps when she was going inside after her evening chores were finished each day. The two women were a bit taken aback, but then related how Grandpa thought it a funny practical joke to pull on women. They had no doubt who was responsible for the bra unsnapping. In fact, they said to yell at him and tell him "You stop that right now!"

Needless to say, our Saturday turned out to be quite enlightening. We now had a name and a reason why Buddy seemed to have triggered the activity. I will be honest that while Sheri was accompanying our guests to their car I said to the room, "That's your family, now is your chance to go with them and be with them again." I do feel guilty about trying to push a ghost off on them, but I was desperate to resolve our issue. And for a few days it seemed like maybe he did go with them.

Having this information fall into our laps couldn't have come at a better time because of the next thing that happened that Memorial Day weekend. I was looking through Twitter and saw a reply in Amy Allan's Twitter feed to a post by Lance about his family's blog, their haunting and Dead Files experience. I opened the blog in my browser but didn't actually start reading it for a couple weeks.

While we now had a good idea who was haunting us, we weren't exactly sure how to use that information. We thought maybe he had gone with his family, which he might have, but after a few days Sheri's bra unsnapped; an announcement that he was back. So we took their advice to call him out by name and tell him he couldn't that. Sheri read him the riot act, so to speak, setting up her boundaries. Having someone to scold was therapeutic in a way. Doing this was mostly effective. Every once in a while he reminded Sheri he was still around by performing his favorite stunt.

At this point it was as if he decided he could come and go, and also travel with us. Maybe I gave him the idea with my suggestion and, at times, it felt like the house had a different vibe, like he was gone. Other times, we got the familiar feeling he was back. Even other times, it felt like a spirit was around except the energy was completely different. Darker. Could this be something new? Or maybe something that was always here, just more subtle?

One day a riding lesson student told Sheri that she had a dream about our house. Sheri asked, "You did? What was it about?" The girl, about nine years old, said she dreamed our house had hidden passageways under it and doors to every room that kids were using to watch us. She said adults couldn't see these kids.

Sheri immediately associated this dream with the heat ducts under the house and the vents in every room that Buddy hated. He would growl at these vents and sometimes come completely unglued and lose his mind barking at one. He seemed to especially dislike the kitchen vent. This revelation floored Sheri because her student had never been in our house and had no idea about our paranormal experiences. Yet she had this dream that just seemed to fit what was going on. When Sheri shared it with me I thought it significant that she used the plural "kids". It made me afraid we had something letting in more than one entity, like a portal or pathway. This only added to my anxiety.

This went on for weeks. I would sage and suggest the grandfather go to the light and be with his loved ones waiting for him on the other side. I would go to every room repeating what I had heard Amy say on one of her episodes, "All negativity must leave this place. No negativity may remain in this place. Only love, light, and peace may enter." I also added, "Any dead must leave." I mixed a solution of holy water and tar water, put it in a yard sprayer, and sprayed the entire property boundary repeating the same mantra.

During this period, between May and September, I was continuing to sage and research while my dreams and sense of unease ramped up. I had been recording Dead Files episodes on DVR and was watching at least one episode every night. While I was picking up some tips, I was also worrying that my efforts might trap spirits by botching a cleansing. I also read or watched that removing one spirit might set the condition for another, more negative one to take its place. Sort of like how the universe abhors a vacuum. Well, that didn't sound too good. I was getting a bit paranoid about that concept. By this time I was reading through the blog and the extreme activity Lance and his family had gone through. I felt somewhat consoled by the fact that at least ours was not as bad as theirs.

By the time September rolled around I finally finished reading the most recent post about the Eberhardt's story. I was caught up and I was amazed at what they went through. I was thankful we weren't dealing with anything to that extent. I don't know if we would have survived! As I shared in Part 3, I posted a note to Lance, thanking him for sharing their experience and letting him know it was helping me with our situation. His response helped me know what I needed to do.

The first thing that struck home was that I needed to stop being afraid. I had been trying to face the situation, but I had not let go of my fear. I needed to stand up for myself, Sheri, and Buddy. Without fear. After reading their experience and knowing they got through it, I had more confidence that I could too. That confidence also helped me with my fear. I dug down and realized I had faced more than one life-threatening situation in my military career without fear; I could do the same here. Taking back my home became my mission.

Of course this didn't fix things overnight. The other side had a vote and wasn't ready to let go. My new attitude, however, never wavered. Just making the decision that I would no longer be afraid is empowering. The dreams were the last to go, I think because sleep is a time when we are most vulnerable.

My approach to the spirits also changed. I stopped using the sage and would acknowledge the grandfather's presence when I felt it. I was more in charge and would remind him that we are in the house now and we are continuing to care for the trees, the yard, and the roses. We even planted an elm tree on the west side of the house to add our own touch. I would tell Grandpa if he wants to stay he has to follow our rules and not scare us or Buddy. This approach has been working. Fear is a thing of the past, even if we still have experiences.

What happens now are just experiences. Stories to tell. I mentioned Grandpa seemed to travel around with us. Three stories make me believe this. One day I was at work, about 45 minutes away, when I got the strong smell of stale cigarette. It was so strong I pulled the car into a parking lot and looked in the car trash bag for a cigarette butt. I was perplexed for a bit until I remembered Grandpa. I invited him to stay inside one of the buildings around me. The smell dissipated, but he wound up going back home with me. Another time Sheri was getting out of the truck going into a store for horse feed. While she was walking away from the truck her bra unsnapped. He had to be told that if he couldn't do it at home, he certainly couldn't do it in public. The last time it happened was on a trail ride Sheri went on with a neighbor friend. She had confided with the neighbor about some of our strange activity. During the ride our neighbor asked Sheri if she let her "friend" tag along. Sheri said "No, why?" "My bra just came unsnapped," she answered. Sheri advised her to give him a good talking to. The neighbor slowed her horse down and Sheri could hear her talking. Bras have remained snapped for several months now.

I continue to meditate and envision positive energy in the form of white light protecting us and our space. If I get a little lax on my duties Grandpa lets me know through Buddy, who remains my early warning system. Any activity is met with a firm reminder of the rules and the admonition to not bother Buddy. I continue to struggle with my moods and sudden anger. It's usually because I have failed to meditate and cleanse myself of negativity. I know this will be a constant struggle as long as I'm living here.

I am still not comfortable going in the metal shop or the tack/feed shed after dark. Recently I have started recording when I go into these places. I have captured a few unexplained noises, possibly voice, on the digital recorder while in the shop. Nothing has been captured in the shed or the house despite my turning on the recorder when I feel like something is happening. I am reluctant to do much investigating in the house because I don't want to stir up activity.

So that's our desert haunt. As long as we live here the story will continue. But we have learned to live with our spirit…or spirits. We have never really confirmed the presence of a portal or pathway. If there is, our protection may be working since things have calmed down significantly. I truly appreciate the Eberhardts for letting me share my story on their blog. It's been nearly five years in the making and I don't think I would be as comfortable with it were it not for their story. I encourage anyone who has gone through something similar to share your story. Not only could it help someone else, but it will also help your healing. It has mine. Thanks for reading.