Lee and Lisa at The Myrtles Plantation in St. Francisville, LA.
On June 20, 1998 Lee and I left Natchez, MS after some biking there
and drove to St. Francisville, LA. We had heard about this haunted place
that had been turned into a bed and breakfast inn. We wanted to stay
there. Not sure of the name, we had stopped along the way at a rest stop
and we were overheard asking about haunted mansions in LA. The hostesses
did not know what we were looking for. Somewhat disappointed, we felt as
though we would not find the place. But as fate would have it's way, there
was a lady with her husband I presumed and 2 children nearby who overheard
our conversation. This lady knew just what we were talking about. She gave
us the name and town and we managed to get the number through information
if I recall correctly. We called and made reservations on the way and
luckily for us we got a room in the main house at The Myrtles
Plantation.
It was an upstairs room. You entered from the back of the house;
the stairway was steep and narrow. The old stairs creaked under the
pressure of your step. As you came up the top of the stairs our room
was just to your left. It was the "Ruffin Stirling Room."
I don't recall too much history and haunting stories about this particular
room, but we have our own to share.
We settled in after a short bike ride around St. Francisville. I
went down the hall to use the facilities as our room did not have an in
room bath. The floor was creaky and gave away any movement outside the
room. Between the stairs that moaned with each footstep laid upon them and
the creaky floor it was a dead give away to someone approaching or leaving
- Someone with substance that is. I made my way, substance and
all, unintentionally quite noisily to the bathroom. I was only
gone for a minute or two and when I returned Lee asked me if I came to the
door and knocked. Of course I did not. I had "business" to take
care of. The door to the room had been nearly closed and Lee
on the inside heard clearly a knock on the door. He did not hear any
steps to or from the door, only a knock at the door. At first I thought he
was joking with me, trying to scare me, but to this day he swears he heard
the knock at the door and upon opening the door promptly, saw
nothing. Oh but there was something there. And it was sure to get
someone's attention later that same night.
We went out for dinner at a place just outside St. Francisville. And
as evening closed in on us we hurried back for the Mystery Tour of the
Plantation. The tour was magnificent. I would recommend it to
everyone.
We sat outside on the patio and enjoyed the company of two local
Myrtle-cats. (One which is older than dirt I understand and does not
photograph well.) We enjoyed the night air for a while. We walked
around waiting for something paranormal to beset us. We looked for
ghosts inside and out! I really wanted to experience the realm of the
spirit world. Or so I thought. Lee was ready to leave it alone!
We had gone to bed, tired, yet anticipation surged in our veins, with
our curiosity aroused from what the tour instilled in our minds, we hoped
to see and yet feared the unknown. I had moved some of the furniture,
specifically a chair - hearing that ghosts did not like it when things were misplaced. I
was testing and challenging the spirits. Silly me. It is easy to
challenge the unknown when you are so grounded in reality.
Nestled comfortably in bed we were. The gentleness of a peaceful sleep
surrounded me waiting to engulf me. It felt good to relax and fade into .
. . what a dream? It seemed like only moments into sleep, only not really
asleep. You know the gray area where you are not really asleep, but your
senses are dulling as you wait for the fingerprints of sleep to touch you
gently and caress you into dreams.
Touch. Caress.
That is just what I felt as I narrowly escaped the wave of Stage 3-4
sleep. My senses told me someone was touching or grabbing my toes. I felt
the touch clearly and being grounded in reality, I knew it was Lee
pranking on me. But he lay there beside me so still as I turned to see
him. I did not see him move or feel the covers move if he were moving away
from me. His breathing was slow and regular. Still I was sure it had to be
him touching me with his toes. "Lee. . . Lee." I touched him and
asked him about the game of footsies he was playing and out of a well
faked slumber (I presumed) he denied any activity. So I rolled over and
again entertained the idea of sleep. I looked around the room with
what light the night provided with well adjusted eyes and saw nothing out
of the ordinary. I closed my eyes and again nestled in, pulled the covers
up and found a comfort zone. I had waved goodbye to the alpha waves and
found the peaceful hand of sleep encompassed about me.
A mother having her senses intact and an awareness of her child's well
being will hear her baby cry and awake from a sound sleep to attend to the
needs. I heard nothing. My eyes were closed; I saw nothing. But I felt the
touch again. It was real. It was substance. And like a mother awakening to
the needs of her child, I awoke . I awoke to the need to know who or
what was grabbing my feet. I lay for a moment awake, and aware of the
sensation at my feet. I became aware of Lee and his immobility. His
breathing. He was not touching me physically at all. The covers did not
move. He did not move. And then I moved. I slowly pulled my feet away, I
turned and looked at Lee first. He was asleep. I was sure. Well, almost
sure. I punched him twice and he rolled a bit and mumbled incomprehensible
words at first. He again denied any remote interest or involvement in
playing with my feet. He even sounded somewhat irritated that I would
again make such accusation. I am considering the possibility that maybe it
was not him. Maybe, I was dreaming. I gained enough courage and I looked
around the room. All was well. I did not see anything out of the ordinary.
But I really did feel something out of the ordinary! Time passed. It was
over and eventually I relaxed.
Once again I snuggled into the comfort of the bed. Once again I
began to drift on alpha waves and beyond. AAhhh. Once again. . .
Once again I felt the sensation on my distal appendages. Once
again I awoke. I awoke to a knowing that I was experiencing the
paranormal. I awoke to reality and reality was that there was something,
someone substantial touching my toes and feet and this time with more
force than I had previously experienced. This time it wanted me to know. I
knew. This time it wanted me to see. I did not see! I did not open my
eyes. I was truly scared. Not sure I really wanted to blend with the
spirit world anymore, I kept my eyes closed tight and I quickly moved my
feet closer to the rest of me. I was suddenly cold and wanted to warm
up. I poured myself next to Lee and further in toward the head of
the bed, this time pulling the covers securely to my neck. I tried hard
not to "be" at all. I did not wake Lee up this time. I did
not open my eyes and look around this time. I knew what I would see.
I knew what was there. I laid there knowing more than I wanted to
know.
I awoke in the light of morning with a vivid memory and a clear
realization that The Myrtles Plantation is genuinely haunted.
By the way - Our cat pictures turned out with well identified felines!
Copyright ©Lisa 2001
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