A Night in the Graveyard with Mobile's Paranormal

"There it is, look closely, see that orb?" Vada Cejas asks her group, pointing at the digital photograph she has just taken of a gravesite. Her audience is the Mobile Order of Paranormal Investigators (MOPI). The gravesite was the Church Street Cemetery. The orb is the spirit of a dearly departed, she says. What better way to spend a late night on Friday the thirteenth than in a downtown graveyard with professional ghost hunters? First, a disclaimer: do not try this at home. Mobile Bay Monthly received special permission for after hour's access to the town's second oldest burial ground. Without the city's okay, it is trespassing and grounds for arrest. Having said that, wow, what a night. Church Street Cemetery is a peaceful presence with a sad past. Opened in 1898 to accommodate legions of yellow fever victims, as many as three to four thousand people may be buried there, many in mass graves. "At one point, 250 bodies a month were carted in by horses," says City of Mobile cemetery specialist Tige Marston. What would these poor souls say if they could talk? Tonight, maybe they will. "This usually takes hours," says Cejas, referring to her nine member team's ghostly inspections. As she talks, her investigators scatter throughout the cemetery with specific tasks at hand. Placing a teddy bear on a child's grave, inspector Mike Harris explains, "We have recorded children's laughter at other cemeteries. They are attracted to the dolls." If any juvenile voices from the other side are audible, they are captured on tape. Walking among the headstones, the group intensely monitors electromagnetic field meters (EFM's). Apparently, supernatural beings make the meter's gauge needle jump. "Normally it will read zero to one," says Lisa (last name anonymous by request). "If it fluctuates erratically, something is going on." Ambient temperature readouts are constantly monitored. A sudden drop in temperature means ghostly presence. "I once recorded a grave temperature at 28 degrees, when the air that night was in the 60s," Lisa says. And then there is the dowsing rod, a device similar to the divining rod used to find water. With the dowsing apparatus in hand, Gregg Blaylock leans over graves searching for a sign. "This is subjective," concedes the ghost hunter, "but occasionally the instrument turns and points to the ground, indicating paranormal activity" This night the dowsing rod pointed at Joe Cain's grave while his next plot neighbor registered nothing. Some plots are deader then others. Video cameras and cassette recorders are trained on crypts in hopes of capturing any unauthorized `boo." The data will be analyzed later when the group returns to their offices. The members of MOPI are from all walks of life. They are not a cult but are nurses, engineers, law officers and other people fascinated by the afterlife. "Most of our friends think it's pretty cool," Cejas says. "But a few say we should stay away from this stuff," Lisa adds. Let the dead rest in peace. MOPI members point out that they only investigate paranormal activity, not summon or exorcise spirits. Regardless of opinions, everyone always asks what is the scariest experience encountered during their work. "One night," answers Lisa, "in a very secluded Mobile County cemetery, an opossum fell out of a tree right at my feet. It was terrifying." The haunted possum was explainable; other tales are not. Like the time they searched a Mobile building with reputed spirits of kids. "A single toy marble flew across the room, from an adjacent unoccupied room," group member Russ Bennett recalls. They have it on video. "We also have recorded evp's (electronic voice phenomena) distinctly saying in a child's voice, `Ready or not here I come.' No children were with the group." These and other pictures and stories are on the organization's website www.mobileparanormal.com. "Even with the electronics, some of us also rely on our senses to locate a good spot," Cejas explains, panning her flashlight across century old granite slabs. "Did anyone move the teddy bear?" Harris' voice crackles across the two way radio. "No", one at a time, each member answers. We rush to the scene. The toy bear on the child's grave, originally positioned on its left side, was now on its right. At just about midnight, the ghost hunters had what they consider a documented case of paranormal activity. --Emmett Burnett