The Trip to St. Augustine, Part 5

A quick note about the Most Haunted shows (since a couple people mentioned them). These are not shows which convinced me. Now, I'm not saying anyone is a fool for watching them or believing in them. I'm just a very skeptical person. I never believed in ghosts, and I believed that good Christians never saw ghosts because they were demons...until I saw something that made me re-evaluate that stand when I was 26 years old (I'll tell you about it another time). Of course that doesn't mean it was a ghost.

As for the psychic in the Most Haunted shows: If someone wants to convince me that they're a genuine psychic with genuine powers, then enter a hyperbaric chamber and be shipped to your unknown destination. Then come out and give an accurate reading of the place. You see, they have the ability to prep and read a background on where they are. This experiment will also have to happen in a previously unknown haunted place, because I guarantee you that they're well read up on the lore for all the top destinations.

These psychics also make mistakes. I watched a Most Haunted episode last night, and the renown psychic started talking about the former mistress of the house, saying that she was gorgeous when she was alive. In fact, she looked like an organ grinder's monkey. They glossed over that mistake and never mentioned it again. Another said she was grotesquely fat, and when he was shown this picture, he said quickly "I meant fat before this picture was taken. She must've lost weight by then."

Finally, these psychics feed off the interviewers. I watched one of the psychics last night make a few tentative statements about a female ghost, then ask the interview a quick question which guided him in a certain direction. Additionally, the interviewer is very emotive, and obviously reacts to anything that is said which reinforces the legend.

Still, there are things which are not definitively explained away, and I admit that. Now on to...

The Friggin' Frat Boys

For those of you who don't know me well yet, let me tell you a secret: I'm no angel. I am someone who believes I should be good all the time, but I am also earthy and have a wicked sense of humor. This means I'll be nice until it's time to not be nice.

That night we stayed in Howard Johnson's. We had pulled in to see a bunch of frat boys running around the parking lot, throwing a football. I was nervous, because I didn't really want to have my car dented, but there was no where else to park. As time went by, and we settled down for the night, the noise continued. There were mostly guys, but some girls too. All of them were staying in 4-5 rooms there.

By midnight, I was frustrated, and my ex-boyfriend (who came along with his daughter) went over to the manager's office to complain. I stayed behind, with the two children. My ex-boyfriend was gone for a long time when I suddenly heard glass shattering. Thinking it was my car, I darted out the door to see a drunk sorority girl giggling and pulling herself up from deliberately doing a "touch down" with a bottle of beer. Spoiled college kids were everywhere, milling about, flirting, giggling. I lost it.

"DO ANY OF YOU KNOW WHAT TIME IT IS? IT'S MIDNIGHT!" I screeched at the top of my lungs. "I HAVE CHILDREN TRYING TO SLEEP IN HERE! GET INSIDE YOUR FRIGGIN' ROOMS AND GO DO SOMETHING ELSE. DO WHAT YOU GUYS DO BEST: FRIG EACH OTHER, PLAY CHECKERS, I DON'T CARE! JUST GET INSIDE BEFORE I FRIGGIN' CALL THE COPS!" Only... I didn't use the word "frig".

Everyone disappeared with their tails tucked between their legs, except one. She hesitated a moment, wobbled slightly, and looked as if she was going to come toward me. At this point, I was revved up enough to scream "BRING IT ON, SISTER!" and almost did, but their chaperone grabbed her arm firmly and wheeled her into a nearby room. Heaven only knows what I would have done. I was sorely tempted to bop her on the nose (classy broad that I am) but that's as far as I had planned. Outside of the obvious lawsuit, of course.

After that, we settled down only to hear doors start slamming again. At this point, my ex-boyfriend (who had returned and has a black belt) sighed, got up, and went next door. I listened as he calmly said to the frat boy "You guys must be the dumbest kids that ever made it to college. If you don't stop playing these games, and slamming these doors, I will come over and kick your ass. It won't look good for a young frat boy to have his ass kicked in front of all his friends by a guy who's 40 years old. So do us all a favor and stop it now, and make sure everyone else does, too." "Yessir!" said the alarmed frat boy. And after that, we had peace and quiet.

Needless to say, we were very tired on the morning of Easter Sunday. But we struggled up at 7 AM, had breakfast... and then gave the frat boys a wake-up call from "the front desk" in a very bad Indian accent before we left. We figured we'd help out the hotel employees, since they'd been useless the night before.

The Castillo de San Marcos

We were lucky enough to get there so early in the morning that very few people were about. The Castillo de San Marcos was built from 1672-1695, but was modified repeatedly as time went by and warfare tactics changed. The original fort was built by Spain, the modifications were made by England and then America.

Speaking of ghosts, there is a story mentioned in Florida's Ghostly Legends & Haunted Folklore: Vol. 2 that involves this fort. It seems that there is a lady in white spotted at the fort sometimes, who simply vanishes when she's approached. She's supposedly a beautiful woman who was married to the Commander in 1784 and had an affair with one of his men. The Commander walled up both of them (alive) in a small chamber beneath the fort (in The Cask of Amontillado style) and their ghosts still roam about. There is no historical verification of this tale.











Next and last: The quaint shops and our trip to the top of the Light Tower and Lighthouse.