"It was a dark and stormy night..."

 

Linnell Landing, Brewster

 

"It was a dark and stormy night..."

This familiar and clichéd opening line is not recommended to be used as the beginning of your novel. But I couldn't resist, just once.

Here's a little background about where it came from and who wrote it first. 

It was the opening line to Bulwer-Lytton's 1830 novel, Paul Clifford.  The rest of the sentence is quite entertaining.

 "It was a dark and stormy night; the rain fell in torrents — except at occasional intervals, when it was checked by a violent gust of wind which swept up the streets (for it is in London that our scene lies), rattling along the housetops, and fiercely agitating the scanty flame of the lamps that struggled against the darkness."

As we near Halloween, my thoughts turn to the past. My mother always said her ancestors came from Hungary, and the words 'Roma/Gypsies' were used to describe several of her aunts. 

My mother told us a story about a distant relative who came to visit the family. She was only three but remembers a scary looking woman, one of her relatives, arguing with her mother. The following week, her oldest sister who was five years old, became sick and died within a few months of an unexplained illness. Her mother said the woman had put a curse on her child. The story only adds to the mysterious side of my family.

Roma (Gypsies) originated in the Punjab region of northern India as a nomadic people and entered Europe between the eighth and tenth centuries C.E. They were called "Gypsies" because Europeans mistakenly believed they came from Egypt.

Growing up, I knew my mother's nationality was Hungarian but never paid much attention to the word, Roma, and how it would connect to me, until 1986 when my husband and I were living near Chardon, Ohio with our three children. We decided to look for a bigger house. It was a beautiful brick house built in 1868 with acreage.

 

Chardon, Ohio 1986

We always dreamed of owning an old home with lots of secrets. The first time the family went to view the potential purchase, everyone was excited. As we walked closer and entered the side door that led into the kitchen, the kids immediately began exploring. For some reason, I stayed put. Something held me back. I could hear the kids talking as they ascended the beautiful ornate staircase all the way up to the widow's peak. I cautiously ventured a little further in. I waited only a few minutes before I called out to my husband. "Okay. I'm done looking. I really don't like it." My words were ignored, lost in the echos of animated voices. "I yelled a little louder, "Going outside."

Tim joined me on the grassy driveway. "You don't like it?" 

"Not really. Not sure why. I just feel uncomfortable. I'd rather not go back in and I don't think we should buy it." 

There was some discussion later that night. Tim knew I was as stubborn as my mother and agreed to look no further. To this day, he still fondly remembers the missed opportunity of our decision to not buy that old Victorian. I felt confident that it was the right decision.

A year later in 1987,  our summer vacation stretched into almost three weeks of sun, fun, sand, and looking for an old house within the Lower Cape. We started in Barnstable, just for the fun of it, even though we preferred the other end of the Cape. One of the houses we considered buying was The Crocker Tavern on Route 6A. 

Crocker Tavern, Barnstable

 

Again, everyone was excited, especially Tim. It would be the perfect location to open his gallery, right on the Old King's Highway or Route 6A. I was the last one to enter through the red door of this circa 1754 wooden structure. The problem was I didn't want to cross the threshold. I held back again. I was uncomfortable once more. I waited outside, only peeking into the house occasionally. I was cordial to the real estate rep but knew in my heart, this house was not for me. 

By the time we left for home, back in Ohio, we had looked at several other houses and finally decided to buy an old 1880 farmhouse in Brewster, the Sea Captains Town and make our big move to Cape Cod. This time, I felt at ease inspecting each room in the empty house.

 

Brewster Home - 1987

 

 

 

Once we moved in almost a year later, in June of 1987, an article in the Cape Cod Times appeared that October. It stated that Cape Cod had several haunted houses and of course one of the most famous was the Crocker Tavern in Barnstable! I was right.

We also discovered our Brewster home was not without secrets. Another few years went by and we were awarded a citation for Best Christmas decorations from Brewster Chamber of Commerce. Upon receiving it, we wanted a picture for publicity. We pulled out our Polaroid camera and a picture was taken of me holding the award in front of the barn. That night, we showed the image to our children and noticed a white mist floating in front of me in the photographed picture.  Was it a friendly spirit or just bad developing from the Polaroid camera? We'll never know.

What I do know is I'm always comfortable in our lovely home because I think the house must hold a friendly spirit and maybe, just maybe, the spirit was pleased we've taken such good care of the old place.

Brewster Home 2020

 

 

When our daughter, Heather, opened her own Struna Galleries in Chatham, it was in the Captain Dodge House on Main Street. Every so often, customers would come in and ask how she liked living with a ghost? Confused at first and finding no evidence of such a haunting, she assumed it was a friendly spirit. I agreed. All the years she was located there, I never felt any thing strange about the quaint little gallery. 

In my uneducated opinion, I don't believe in ghosts but I do think there are good and evil forces in the universe. Sometimes these spiritual forces can be felt by certain people, if they  are open to their energy. 

I don't know if I'm one of those special folks who can sense spirits. I do know that before my two daughters purchased their first houses, they asked their Mom to take a walk through them and then sought reassurance from me about my feelings. Were they good or bad? 

Update on my latest historical novel, The Old Cape Blood Ruby. Publication will be coming in early 2021.

"In 1898, the Portland Gale tore across Provincetown on Cape Cod's coast. Walter Ellis, a descendant of legendary Maria Hallett, loses his ship and fishing livelihood. Forced to leave his family behind, he seeks gold in Alaska but never returns. Present day Nancy Caldwell travels to Juneau, Alaska to visit family. She discovers an old letter destined for Provincetown but never sent. Back home on Cape Cod, a 1780s house, a hidden 'pigeon's blood' ruby ring, and a past nemesis complicate Nancy's search for what happened to the missing fisherman."