The rows of windows on the second and third floors of the old U.S. Marine Hospital are as empty as the eye sockets of skulls lining the walls of a catacomb. Chain link fencing and barbed wire prevent easy entrance through the gaps in the original fence of wrought iron and brick, which has collapsed in several places. The weight of those too curious, daring or stupid to heed no trespassing signs has deformed the top tube of the fence into a makeshift handle.

Michael Einspanjer, founder and head of Memphis Paranormal Investigations, confessed to jumping the fence and entering the building, vacant since 1999. Einspanjer believes the old hospital, along with the National Ornamental Metal Museum next to it and the Chickasaw burial mounds across the street, is one of the many haunted places in Memphis.

"This city has a lot of history," Einspanjer said. "And not all of it very good."

The dead, he said, many times don't know they are dead, and they will continue to hang around a particular piece of land or a house they may have lived in.

Einspanjer, a 33-year-old retired hospice nurse, grew up in two houses he said were haunted. These experiences sparked his interest in the paranormal. When a recent heart attack nearly killed him, Einspanjer's interest into what lay beyond turned into a full-time job. He and a friend found a Web site listing haunted places in Tennessee.

The duo set out to validate each of the places on the site with documented evidence -- pictures, recordings and video.

"If you don't believe us, come with us," he said. "We have too much proof."

The MPI uses a host of gadgets to gather evidence: electromagnetic sensors, temperature guns, highly-sensitive sound equipment, cameras and video cameras, even a night vision scope.

On MPI's Web site, http://www.memphisparanormalinvestigations.com, pictures taken at various locations show bright, multi-colored orbs, which Einspanjer believes are the dead making their presences known. He also has pictures of what he called "ecto" -- different colored mists -- as well as both partial and full apparitions showing recognizable features of the once living.

But what ghost hunters call proof doesn't convince debunkers like Mark Durm.

Durm, a psychology professor at Athens State University in Athens, Ala., said all of the ghosts he has encountered were either pure myth or pure imagination.

After hearing about a girl that would not enter a library because she heard a ghost lurked among the stacks, Durm challenged 10 supposedly haunted sites. Six of the haunts were on the National Registry of Haunted Places. In his book "Stripped of Their Sheets," Durm said historical research showed that in all 10 cases the places were not haunted. In one case, he proved that one legendary ghost named Abigail was not a real person.

"You've heard the phrase seeing is believing? Well, in this case, believing is seeing," he said. "These people see what they want to see."

Jim Wallace, director of the metal museum since it was founded in 1979, said all the rumors about the haunting of the museum and hospital grounds were nonsense.

"That ramp in the basement wasn't used to slide bodies (during the yellow fever epidemic)," he said of one legend floating around the Internet. "I built the ramp."

Linda Raiteri, public relations director for the museum, is not as convinced that the museum is free of otherworldly visitors. "Anything's possible," she said.

Interns at the metal museum have told her of a man in a wheelchair on the second floor of the white building from the 1870s that once served as the hospital. Another intern who lived in the dorms was awakened every night between 3 and 4 a.m. when her bathroom shelves cleared their contents onto the floor. Painting the room stopped the occurrences, Raiteri said.

Sprinkling holy water, burning incense and performing exorcisms will not clear haunted houses, Einspanjer said. "They're not going to leave if they don't want to." Remodeling, he said, can either get rid of them or stir them up.

Einspanjer and his group investigate homes for free if the owner believes the house is haunted. The list of homes awaiting investigation continues to grow.

"We have enough work to keep us inside all winter," he said. Ginger Hammer, 32, a psychology major at The University of Memphis, and her husband, Patrick Parliamen, a 42-year-old network specialist, answered flyers for people interested in the paranormal that Einspanjer placed around The University. They are two of MPI's seven full-time investigators.

"It has become a new religion," Hammer said. The investigators say it's not just about the rush of crawling through abandoned buildings and forgotten cemeteries in the small hours of the morning. The team spends a lot of time cleaning what vandals and litterbugs have trashed.

"We are very protective of some of the places we visit," Einspanjer said. One project of which the group is especially proud is the building of a memorial garden at Slavehaven, a house at 826 N. Second St. that was a stop on the Underground Railroad. "We view what we do as a civil service," Einspanjer said. "for both the dead and the living."

Article Tools