Tuesday, April 7, 2009

Personal Observations of Cahill House

The summer of 1969 was a summer that can never be forgotten. Lots of things happened here that summer. The biggest being a gal that went by the name of Camille. I saw my first dead body thanks to her and I learned a lot of lessons that helped me cope when her sister Katrina blew by for a visit. Those are things that are branded in your mind and your spirit but they are not the most startling things that happened that summer, not by far.My nanny was always fascinated by anything supernatural or paranormal and she took me lots of places so that I could tell her what I saw or felt, if anything, this was because I was born with a cowl. I am not sure if this really means anything or is just an old superstition but she thought I was some kind of barometer so off we went.In the city that I still live in there was once upon a time a house with quite a reputation. It was known as the Cahill House even though Cahills had not owned it or lived in it for years.This house had quite a history, it had been a private home and during the war it was used as an USO building. There was talk of it being used for possible whore house activities. While it was a private home it saw more then it's fair share of tragedy. The years that I knew of it, it was owned by a local doctor and his family.My Nanny did not worry about social lines or the fact that a few famous names had been involved with investigating this home. She made contact with the doctor's wife and they became friendly, friendly enough for my grandmother to get permission to go into the house. The family no longer lived in the home, but the home was fully furnished down to beds still being made, books on shelves in the library , dishes in cabinets, all the furniture in place, lamps, nick-knacks, you name it , it was there.My family descended like a plague of locusts. While there, people broke up into small pairs or groups so that more ground could be covered. I did not like the third floor at all, was unhappy with all the doors into the kitchen and did not like the family plot out back. I stayed under the huge arbor a lot. I would walk it down to the bayou and back. My nanny wanted to know what I was doing and I said I was just waiting for us to leave. When the scream came I was with an aunt. She was my nanny's sister. She thought the scream was from one of her daughters so off we went. When everyone gathered it was to find that everyone had heard the scream, everyone agreed it was a woman but no one would admit to being the screamer. As it was getting late we called it a day and went off to our homes. That night at my great aunt's we all got together to eat and rehash the day. The older kids who ranged in age from 17 to 15 all asked if they could take a car and just go riding, they were told yes but they had to take me, the idea being that since I was only 12 then they could/ would not do anything stupid. RIGHT!You guessed it, in the dark armed with only 2 flashlights and a lot of stupidity we went back to the house that had documented proof of the walls actually bleeding. Yes bleeding, when tested, it was human blood. I did not want to go in. I was forced because I was not going to ruin every one's good time because I was a baby. I went in. Right after you entered the home to your right there was a doorway. I stepped into this doorway grabbed the door frame and refused to budge. They broke out lighters and scattered like roaches all over that house. My youngest aunt who is only 4 years my senior at that point had enough sense to know if something happened to me her butt would be in a crack she might never get out of, stayed with me. We kept one of the flashlights.As she tried her best to get me to let go and explore we heard a door open and close and open again to the right of us in the room that we were standing in the doorway of. She quickly flashed the light in there and the room was furnished but devoid of life and the side door was not only shut but had 2 boards nailed across it.My aunt slowly moved the flashlight over every surface of the room and there was nothing out of the normal to be seen.I guess I need to tell you that the room you enter when you first came into the home was like a huge living room type of room. Big heavy pieces of furniture, large oak bookcases, an oak table that was massive in size and was said to have needed 6 men to lift. End tables, couch, love seat, chairs, lamps, the room was full, and under it all was a wall to wall 20 by 24 antique rug. Great rug, I loved it then and wish I was able to afford something like it now.On the far side of the room were 2 beautiful glass paned french doors and right north of them was this rather plain looking door, I always thought it looked kind of like a closet door, but it was really the door to the stairs. The stairs were enclosed in the wall, there was no grand staircase just stairs that went up the side of the wall, shut the door and no stairs, open it, step up, turn to your left, and start climbing.As we were looking for what had made the noise that sounded like a door we heard someone shout, someone else scream and then we heard the running feet, as they came thundering down the stairs the first cousin out, tripped and fell over the rug, the one I told you about earlier, the one under all the furniture, well it wasn't under it anymore, it was rolled up and in front of the stairs, (No, we never heard a sound, all that furniture had to have lifted up and the rug roll up as nice as you please and we never heard anything.), blocking them so to speak, you had to stop and kinda climb over to get into the main room. Well to make a long story short I refused to move out of my doorway while everyone was either screaming, crying or grabbing someone , I would not budge.With us that night were several male cousins and one male friend of theirs. He was the one who got down and said we have to leave, if you are that scared, I will carry you and I looked at him and said we can't get out the front. I do not know how or why I knew that but I was certain that the front door was a trap of some kind and someone was going to get hurt. He looked at me and said then where, and I looked at the french doors and said there. He said that is on the other side of the room and I said and that's why it safe. It's waiting at the front door. He grabbed me and ran for the doors, we crashed through them, everyone started following, 2 male cousins got cut that night going through the french doors, though the cuts looked more like bites, we made our way down the arbor to the bayou and walked until we could get into the neighbors yard and make it back to the street. We had to go back to the driveway to get the 2 cars and while we were driving off the front door opened and slammed shut 3 times.I think something was angry. I know I never went back, I also know that I was glad when it burned.
Written by Mist
SAPS Member

1 comment:

Rowan314 said...

I was born after the house burned. However, my mom was friends with the owners (she grew up down the street from the home). While I was growing up she told me of several experiences that she had in that house. The candles spontaneously lighting in front of her while she was there was the most common. What I remember most vividly though is a time her and her boyfriend were in the house while it was empty. She was on the top floor sitting in a chair with her feet up on a stool. Her boyfriend had gone down to the first floor exploring. She was wearing one of the old bell dresses. The ones with the circle wires that made the dress stay out from her legs like a bell, it also made the dress hang down towards the floor while her feet were up on the stool. Her dress picked up from the floor and pulled over her head. It caused her and the chair she was sitting in to flip over backwards. She got up and ran down the stairs. When she got to the bottom of the stairwell and went through the door, she found her boyfriend laying on the floor unconsious. She woke him up and they left. He ended up having a concusion and told her that the last thing he rememberd was turning around and being hit in the head with a board.

I grew up thinking the property hated me. Every time I played on the property I felt like I was being watched and I had an axe thrown at me and one of my friends. When I was a teenager me and a couple of friends pulled onto Highpoint Dr. The car turned off. The entire electrical system was not working. I figured that the battery was dead, so we got out of the car and started pushing it back towards Kahler so we could push it off. Before I could jump in the car to put it in gear and pop the clutch, the car turned itself on headlights and everything. That was 23-24 years ago. To this day I have not traveled on that Highpoint again nor do I plan on ever doing it again in my life.