Spine-tinglers: The Janitor

Setting: Pinal County Jail, Globe, Arizona

We had this abandoned little prison to ourselves for the night. The place showed promise from a psychic’s point of view, but the chemistry of having 30 bodies in the small building was not conducive.

The teams broke off into cells below, but my hunting partner and I decided the attic room was for us. We walked into this cavernous room and knew something was watching us almost immediately. To me, it felt as though it moved the dust with it as it scurried behind the bathroom wall. This was supposedly the room the guards used for their relaxation. How they relaxed in this room surrounded with windows and perpetual chill was unimaginable. We arrived in dead of winter and the night would be icy with no protection from the elements except thin glass panes. It made me wonder what summers must have been like. Hellacious, no doubt.

The evening was planned out with the group to take a tour of haunted spots in town, to spend some time wandering the prison and filming. A few planned EVP sessions, others had the unmitigated gall to watch movies on their laptop. My partner and I rolled our eyes and tucked away in the attic on a pile of sleeping bags and waited. We stalked our prey, knowing it was curious but still timid.

In our usual manner when we’re in a pensive environment, we made each other laugh. I have a bawdy sense of humor that makes most people blush and I managed to make my hunting partner bright red within minutes. We teased and made fun of our convoluted trip to Globe. We’re highly distractible and had to stop at every antique shop, which is a manner of heaven and hell for me, someone who reads objects. I both love and hate antique shops because it can feel as though objects are screaming to be noticed and touched from all corners of the store. Until I’ve found the blasted objects and held them and heard their story, I cannot rest. It is, however, an overall good feeling. More objects have good memories than bad.

So, we continued on with our playful banter, knowing that laughter and women combined is the most inviting and least threatening combination. We allowed our natural tender-hearted souls to be revealed and it was paying off. Before long, the sense that something had drawn itself out into the corner of the room, away from the bathroom wall gave us hope. We photographed. We spoke lightly about things. We offered sympathy for those who might have been imprisoned there.

Then, a loud disruption shocked us both. A rogue group of hunters who wanted to film a documentary of their own came upstairs and found a quiet area they could use their Ouija board. They cautiously asked if we would be willing to Ouija and we eagerly agreed. We both found Ouija entertaining. The outsiders worried we might be of the “Ouijas invite evil” variety. We sat down and proceeded to use the board in different combinations, but it appeared that when my partner and I used the board, we got genuine answers. We were amazed.

I immediately honed in on a personality of a child-like man named “Jim” or “James” or “Jimmy.” He was hired for little money to sweep the jail and act as a kind of custodian. It was a simple task he was able to do, but he seemed to like to retreat to the attic where the guards slept because the prisoners taunted him so much. They often had confrontations about him going downstairs and doing his job. He was very timid, very fearful, and very slight of build with dirty blonde hair. A rush of information came across to me about his life and how he died in the flu pandemic of 1918.

As we asked questions of him, I spoke to him like he was a frightened 4-year-old. One of the Ouija folks was upset at the way I was speaking to the entity. He thought I was being condescending. I explained that I am a mother and I was speaking to a man with a 4-year-old child’s capacity and a good deal of fright, calling him “honey” and coaxing him and occasionally scolding was the only way to get more information. We finished the Ouija and their filming, the group leaving us back alone.

Now that I knew the name of our potential entity, I called his name. We wanted to try EVP, but the folks downstairs were so noisy we gave up. Just when I was feeling disappointed, I got a deep shiver starting through my whole body. It felt like it moved from the spine outward to my skin. Not shivers from the outside, but from within. There was no doubt something was manifesting.

A hunter interrupted us, wishing to take pictures of the room. While she was flashing off photos of every corner of the cavernous room, I wrapped my arms around myself, shivering hard. The hairs began to raise on my neck and arms. I knew something was about to happen. The photographer clicked off a shot across from me and I looked up, knowing somehow that was where Jim was hiding.

When the light went off, I saw him. Completely and fully. He was as real as a person in the room.

Except, his posture was strange. He had his arms straight down along his body tightly and his shoulders lifted up near his ears as if he were trying to tuck in and be invisible. He looked directly at me with dark eyes, a gaunt face, stringy dirty blonde straight hair, and a dusty looking shirt in kacki-like color with jeans. He was lean and his nose looked like it had been broken in the past.

The time it takes to flash a digital camera’s light is short. Remarkably short. But, in that brief second I got a complete and total view of him that was eerily unnatural and like something out of a Japanese horror movie.

I’ve seen and experienced a lot of things in my life, especially growing up in a Civil War Hospital, but I’ve never ever seen something that wasn’t there. I’ve never seen someone full body before. I was astounded. Even more astounded when I realized no one else in the room had been looking there or seen it. It was both joyful and disappointing. As an investigator knows, your hope is that the event was witnessed.

The chills went away. The spot where he had stood was not unusual in anyway by lighting, wall paint, or any features that I might have misinterpreted. I took numerous shots to try and get him, but the only thing that showed up in every shot was a giant white orb. Whenever I spoke to him and took a shot, I got the orb. I couldn’t even be excited about that finding, however, because I always disregard orb shots. Something about it, however, seemed very odd. The room became warmer. The feelings in it dissipated. Hunting partner and I decided to try and get some sunrise sleep at a local hotel. We packed up our things to say goodbye and as I said goodbye to Jim, he sent off another bright orb of recognition.

I still remember his face clearly. We got back to the hotel and I drew up a rough sketch of him (haven’t drawn since I broke the base of my thumb years ago and am unable to hold a pencil tightly). The drawing was rough, but the info and the basic look of him was accurate. It is my duty now to try and find out if Jim existed, if he worked at the prison, and if he’s buried in the local cemetery. I don’t like to leave a case open, but other cases stacked up right after it and Jim was set aside.

It’s hard to explain to folks what seeing a full body apparition is like. It’s very surreal. The bodily sensations that go with it are ones of alertness, hair raising, body tingling, deep chills, and a sense of dread deep in your belly like ice water sloshing around. I think the most amazing thing about it was that, for whatever reason, he showed himself to me only and I believe as a hunter with some experience that being a tender-hearted mother, a good natured person, and playful and silly, actually works to my advantage to attract such phenomenon. I hope to see another one again. I really hope to go back there some time and get Jim to interact and perhaps show himself in a shot.

For now, I’ll hang onto these orb shots (a few are above) that I usually toss. They remind me of him.