These ghost photos were sent by Kristy Aucoin, CFG of Vermont.
We decided to head back to Emily's Bridge the next opportunity we had to go out. Unfortunately, the moon had fallen so that there would only be one day that we were at work for us to go out, and I spread the word that we would be heading out that Sunday night, as I called my friends and told them I was heading to Emily's. The moon entered new in two days."
I decided to try something different this time with Emily. In the ghost hunting information that I had received from the IGHS, they told how to communicate with the ghosts, and to help them cross over to the other side by helping them work through what ever was holding them her. Rather than just go and photograph her, I decided to try and contact her. According to the local legend, she has been haunting that bridge for a few hundred years, and I felt that perhaps I could help her to move on. I wanted to show her that things did not have to be this tedious, being in the same lonely place for so long, that if she were to let go of whatever was keeping her here, perhaps then she could rest on the other side in peace. When we got there, I set up the tape recorder and left it on the car. This posed audio problems for lots of reasons, the biggest being that when we were far away, the babble of the brook was so loud that if we heard any unusual voices, there was no way to guarantee that it was not our voices, and in fact, they almost assuredly were. Strike that up to another lesson in the field of capturing ghostly voices.
I began the investigation by taking my roll of film, and when I had shot the whole roll up I set the camera down and began walking around the area where we had seen the biggest collection of globules in the previous photographs. Almost all of our pictures that had things in them were located at the front of the bridge, with a few globules showing up on the inside.
I began to concentrate on what I had read, how to help ghosts that are trapped on this side. This information had come straight from the masters of ghost hunting, and I knew that their advise was always good, so I began doing as they had instructed. Opening myself up energy wise, I began speaking to Emily, and asking her to remember what it was like to laugh with her family, to enjoy a sunbeam on your face, or to enjoy the company of others. I asked her why she remained on this lonely bridge, in the cold and all alone? I asked her if she needed any help ridding herself from the anchors that held her here, so that she could go and enjoy the afterlife. I told her she did not have to remain here any longer, that there was a better place that she could enjoy. Emily's presence, noticeable from the time I was taking pictures, became heavy and oppressive. I expected the air to practically crackle with it, it was so heavy and thick. Perhaps I was getting somewhere. I asked her why she remained here, what could possibly anchor someone here so long?
As soon as I asked that question, a pain slowly settled into the back of my neck, while a pressure on the front made it difficult to breathe. The pain was excruciating, unbelievable, and I hardly know how to describe it. It only affected the back part of my neck, because the pressure on the front part did not exactly hurt. The pain shot from my neck to my head, and there was a roar in my ears that reminded me of when you hold your ear to a seashell. In that brief time that lasted an eternity, I stood there trying to focus and protect myself from this attack, and to shut off the pain and disorientation that I was feeling. I could not do it, I was becoming drained and exhausted and had to leave the area immediately.
I hurried off to the car. I could barely see, my head and neck hurt so badly. The noise in my ears had not stopped, and I can barely remember heading to the car and grabbing up the tape recorder from the car.
"That concludes our trip to Emily's Bridge." I said into the recorder before I shut it off. My voice on the tape sounds clear and composed, but I was badly frightened and in terrible pain. It was not until I got into the car and got it started that the pain in my neck ceased. It was amazing, the car turned over and the feeling was gone. What was not gone was the tension in the muscles in my neck, nor the headache that I had developed from the encounter. It was the sharp, intrusive pain that was gone, and also that flood of awareness that had threatened to overwhelm me and pull me from my moorings.
As we sped away from the bridge, I talked about what I had felt, and what had happend to me after contacting her. Legend claims that she had hung herself on the bridge, and that perhaps what I had felt was the last thing she felt before she died. I was sure he was right. And now, after all my research into Emily's Bridge, I am not so sure. While I am positive the bridge is haunted, I am no longer sure of what or whom resides there. Perhaps the entity could tell that the legend that she hung herself there was the one that I had heard first, as a child, and was inclined to believe that version, and there fore when questioned, gave me the version that it felt that I wanted to hear. I feel that this is what Emily did that night. What ever the reasons, I developed a healthy respect for the bridge, and it was a while before I headed up that way again, partially due to the winter which closed Smuggler's Notch, the easy way for me to get up there. Of course, the notch was already closed when I made this trip out, but that is besides the point. When the members of Spirited Encounters mentioned going up there, I quickly turned the conversation to the possibility of another promising graveyard. I was not ready to encounter Emily again just yet.
The photos taken that night were interesting, to say the least. We caught a few good globules, some of which were quite good. But the most interesting photo came one of the last shots taken that night, taken probably just as the pain was settling into my neck. The shot shows two of me, both images are identical, except one seems to be standing next to, and facing sideways to the one that is looking at the camera. The picture is not a double exposure, because the sideways version of me can not be located on the other negatives, nor can the one facing front. The bridge actually seems to buckle behind me, although the railing to the right seems perfectly straight. I appear to be in two places at once.
The incident also gave me a healthy respect for people who routinely communicate with the ghosts. It has always been a gift of mine to be able to see ghosts, but I have never tried to help them to the other side or even to communicate with them. Mr. Parsons does not seem to want to speak with us, although I do feel comfortable saying that he seems to enjoy our company.
The neck pain and headache had faded by the next day, but we did not go out hunting for the rest of our rotation off. I wanted to rest and relax before going out again. While I was not afraid of what would happen, I was coming across some incidents that made me stop and think about how I wanted to continue our investigations.
Dr. Dave's Notes:
Kristy provided more about the legend of the haunting of Emily's Bridge. Is it possible for a portal to be opening and for Kristy to be standing in two different dimensions at the same time? No, this is not trick photography, and yes, it could be a double exposure, but it is not! What is it? We have several photographs of similar events happening, yet we still have no explanation. Events of this nature happen all over the world from Cancun to Punta Cana Dominican Republic, each one having no explanation but a myriad of people looking for answers and trying to capture the phenomenon in pictures.
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