Some year I may dig out the pics of me in costume as a kid (Strawberry Shortcake was my favorite!) but since I do not have those at hand I’m going to post some pictures and my story from this past year’s trip to the Myrtles Plantation – which boasts itself to be the most haunted home in America.

If you’ve followed my blog for any amount of time you may know that I have a fascination with plantations.  While I do not agree with the slavery that went on at most them, I cannot but fall in love with the homes and their gorgeous architecture. The views are also usually quite astounding and my heart lies in landscape photography just as much as it is in weddings so their settings suit me quite well.   My first home that I knew as a child was a century home and I think that combined with the fact that my father was born in Mississippi makes me adore these old stately homes.  Perhaps in a past life I was a Southern Belle?  😉  ha ha!

When I landed the deal of the century on a flight to go down and visit some friends of mine that live in Louisiana ($40.16 round trip!) I decided to stay in a plantation overnight as part of my ‘splurge’ for saving SO much on the flight.  There are quite a few plantations that are now bed & breakfasts but only a few of them actually allow you to stay in the home – most you stay in cottages on the grounds.  I had narrowed down my choices to Nottoway Plantation and the Myrtles Plantation.  Mind you, my motivation was staying in the home – not ghosts.  However I’ve always had a bit of a freakish obsession with ghost stories (my first favorite movie was Cujo – and I was 4) so the Myrtles ended up winning.  I booked myself a night in the General Bradford Suite after checking out to see what the ‘haunts’ were for each room and this one sounded like the safest where a ghost only tucks you in bed.  Harmless (later however at the plantation I was told this was the rape room!  YIKES!!).  I also did NOT want to stay in the outdoor cabin(s) as I wanted to stay IN the house and I’d be traveling alone.  Staying solo in a haunted house is one thing but in my mind I’d feel safer in the house than in a slave cabin or a barn.  I never claimed to always have logical thinking!

The day came and I arrived at the Myrtles just before they closed to the public for the day.  Even driving up to it feels a bit creepy.  The live oaks and spanish moss are quite moody.  I got my key to my room and I went to the room with about 5 cats trailing along.  The Myrtles has resident cats – almost all black cats of course – that hang around the place.  Being a cat lover, this was an added bonus.  I was told to keep them out of the room but I quickly found this is virtually impossible.  They run in with you no matter what you do.  I had one that took a special liking to me and at one point he was sitting on my shoulder while I walked around the yard taking pictures much like a parrot.  He would do this most of the night.  Total charmers!  I hear that the money tossed into the fountain goes to the care of these cats, so if you go there toss liberally!

After checking in with my hubby to assure him I hadn’t been captured by ghosts (yet) I wandered the plantation and took pictures of the area.  I also of course managed to find a mound of fire ants and had my first encounter with those.  I then went over and ate at the restaurant on the grounds, Varnedo’s which was delicious.  I then met the other couple staying at the home and we quickly became friends.  There was one other group staying there and they wanted to do a ‘table tap’ for ghosts later on and we all agreed to join in.

The rest of the evening was spent in fun with my new friends looking for ghosts.  I went out to the gazebo by myself where there is supposeably spooky things but nothing happened (beyond my drinking some wine and taking some pictures).  We took lots of shots of the infamous mirror with no results.  The first ‘ghostly’ thing I witnessed was when we were sitting in the courtyard and there was a door that started rattling in the plantation like someone was on the other side trying to get out.  Thing was – that part of the house was locked up.  There are no vents near that door (I inspected it the next day during my tour) and no reason that should have been rattling.  Very spooky.  The cats also took off.  Then we did the table tap and there were some bizarre things going on there (things moving around and making noises, lights going off and the like).  After I went to my room, all night I could hear footsteps going up and down the stairway but later found out that the couple staying upstairs never left their room after going to bed.  The final bizarre thing was at night when I went to bed, “my” cat came with me and slept on my chest all night.  About 4 in the morning, the cat woke up, faced the doorway and HISSED.  It did that for about 5 minutes or so – howling and hissing – then quit, started purring and kneading my chest and went right back to sleep.  That’s probably the one that freaked me out the most.  I was awake for quite a spell after that one!

Enjoy the pics down my spooky memory lane!

The first of many cats I saw at the Myrtles.

The General Bradford Suite bed.  I LOVED this bed!

Rocking chairs on the back porch, rumor has it they rock themselves sometimes.

Front of the house, my room for the night is on the left side where the veranda ends.

Another front shot.  I adore the lace ironworking on the verandah.

The slave cabin guest house.  This is where the lamp moved across the table in Ghost Hunters.

This is an area where people see ghosts walking around.  There’s reports of the slave Chloe but this ghost story is a big fable – it never happened.  The children that she ‘poisoned’ actually died of yellow fever.  Another ghost seen here is a women in antebellum attire.  This is where they encountered some ghostly things also during Ghost Hunters.

The pond and gazebo – another area of hauntings.

The only murder that is proven to have taken place was right here outside of my room.  A horseman rode up and called out the owner at the time – William Winters and he came out onto the veranda and was shot and killed.  The killer was never found.  The story is told that he climbed up the staircase inside 17 steps and died in the arms of his wife but according to the records, he died on the spot.

Have to take the self portrait in the infamous mirror!

The stairs where you hear William Winters’ steps over and over going up to the 17th step and stopping.

This is where I heard the door rattling.  The door on the left hand side rattled on and off for a good 10 minutes or so.  We were all outside and there was no one in the house and there’s no way to even access the part of the house b/c the lock up the non-guest room areas at night.

The fountains glow red… it’s almost as creepy looking as anything else that your mind makes up!

Self portrait taken before going ghost hunting.  For posterity!

Long hand-held exposure of the gazebo and of the crazy clouds that night.

This post is brought to you by the sweetst cat I’ve ever known who saved me from the mean ghostie that came to haunt me that night.  Isn’t he a precious kitty?  I wanted to take him home with me.