GO TO LUNCH WITH VERA #2
I’ve only been able to learn the basics about where and when Vera Van Slyke lived. She was born in 1868, not too far from Tarrytown, New York, where she spent her childhood. In the mid- to late-1880s, she traveled down the Hudson to New York City, where she began her journalism career and met her mentor in paranormal investigation, Harry Escott. She relocated to Chicago in 1900, her room at the Hotel Manitou serving as home and freelance-reporting headquarters. In 1909, she embarked on what became a four-year tour of Britain and the European Continent. Funded by the Morley Foundation, an organization promoting psychical research, she crossed the Atlantic to test her theory about strong guilt puncturing the membrane between the physical and spiritual realms and, thereby, allowing for ghosts and other paranormal phenomena. Upon her return in 1913, Van Slyke again settled in New York City, specifically, the Harlem neighborhood.
That’s when things get murky. I know that, in 1923, Van Slyke was still living in Harlem and that she and my great-grandaunt, Ludmila Bergson, remained in touch. This is revealed in The Hound of the Seven Mounds, the chronicle of an investigation Van Slyke conducted that year. However, after this point, I lose the trail of where the great ghost hunter might have roamed. My ancestor had described her as having a restless spirit, so I half-assumed she might again head west — maybe even farther west than Chicago.
Turns out, I was right. By the late 1930s, around the time Van Slyke would have reached 70 years old, she was residing in the coastal village of Ferness, in the State of Washington. I know this because a reader of the Vera Van Slyke ghostly mysteries contacted me. He’s a journalism student in Seattle who happens to be engaged in a historical study of advice columns — and he discovered that Van Slyke wrote one! It was titled “Lunch with Vera,” and it appeared in the local newspaper, the Ferness Drum. My new friend graciously included digital scans of several of the articles, which unfortunately aren’t available online.
Here’s where it get interesting. Along with addressing a variety of other topics, Van Slyke gave advice to readers experiencing problems related to — you guessed it — ghosts! In the months to come, I’ll be transcribing these articles (unless, of course, I’m ordered to cease-and-desist for copyright reasons. As I understand it, newspaper articles from the 1930s are in a gray area in terms of public domain.)
I’ll start with a fairly short, representative article. It comes from the August 10, 1938, issue.
Dear Vera,
My husband works nights at a salmon cannery. Nights are also when our resident ghost declares its presence with footsteps in empty rooms, with whispery singing, and by standing perfectly still while barely seen at the far end of our main hallway. As it happens, I’ve grown accustomed to these displays. They no longer upset me, and truth be told, I now appreciate having some company.
However, on those nights when he’s free, my husband finds our supernatural visitor unnerving. He insists that we rid ourselves of this “demon freeloader.” He is a man of action and deep feeling, my husband, and I dare say he’s even given signs of being jealous of my nightly companion.
Please, Vera, how do I convince him that this is an undaunting haunting?
Signed — Not Alone Nights
Dear Not Alone Nights,
If possible, try to find a neighbor who has lived on your block for a good while. After assuring this person that you find the situation to be, as you charmingly phrase it, “an undaunting haunting,” ask about any former resident of your house or apartment, one now deceased. Disembodied footsteps and faint visual apparitions in dark spaces are fairly routine, but the singing might be helpful in regard to identification. With luck, mentioning this will remind your neighbor of, let’s say, a church choir member who died in your home.
Next, provide your husband with the story behind the haunting. I have discovered that knowing someone’s biography — whether the individual has a heartbeat or not — is a remarkable first step toward overcoming ill will, be it rooted in fear, distrust, or unfounded jealousy. Knowing something about a stranger’s experiences pokes a peephole into that person’s soul, so to speak, and it may go a long way toward changing your husband’s mind, transforming his “demonic freeloader” into something much less threatening.
Now, let’s consider the stabbing pangs of guilt that allow your ghost to appear in the first place. I can’t help but be struck by the peculiarity of a man being jealous of a ghost! Is it possible your deep-feeling husband sorely regrets leaving you alone at night? I’ve handled cases in which self-reproach has twisted outward into suspiciousness and, yes, jealousy. If you think this might be the case, assure him that you love him for the sacrifices he makes to support you and that your ghost — instead of being a competitor in his absence — is, in truth, a comforter during those times.
As I say, I will share more of these unusual articles in the future. In the meanwhile, if learning something of Vera Van Slyke’s biography has poked a peephole into a stranger’s soul, my advice is to start with Help for the Haunted: A Decade of Vera Van Slyke Ghostly Mysteries, though her two book-length chronicles stand on their own.
— Tim
BROM BONES BOOKS 