The Franklin Castle

Evil has a way of slowly creeping in, undetected. It comes without words, hype or trumpets blaring. Instead, it hides quietly in the background, slowly changing, stealthily altering ideas, facts, basic elements until before we know it, there's a change we never even realize happened. It's something we don't question. Something that seems as if it "always was"

But the fact is, it always "wasn't".

I did a lot of research when it came to The Franklin Castle. It was a proposed chapter in my book. I studied the land, the names the house passed through, the architects. I learned as much as I could so I could portray it somewhat accurately as a background in a fictional setting. I actually never dreamed I would be able to stay there. It was my intention to honor the house, and all of the lives lost through its existence (not by its existence). And maybe offer an alternate idea. as to its draw over the last century.

So, with the book already written and only the need to tighten up a few details before I send it off into the ether, I was presented with an opportunity to stay the night at The Castle. I bought a book on the castle and read that in two days, adding to and complimenting what I already learned. And as we checked in, it just so happened, no other room was reserved for that evening. We had the entire castle all to ourselves.

The old castle exists as one big old gothic wrapped package. But under all of the "wrapping paper" there's a lot going on. It's every owner, every story, every fact and falsehood, all in the same box. A puzzle, if you will. So, when I entered the home, I was not just adding to the story, I was experiencing a dizzying array of every piece, some made up, some real, some very dark and the light was still there too. My intention was to harken back to a time in which that light may have existed.

I approached with the utmost respect. I spent a lot of quiet time, looking for beauty, the original pieces and parts. I sat with the house, treating it less as a paranormal circus performer and more as a quiet old friend that had been through so much. I tried not to focus on the darker parts, although there was that sense of that very thing lurking and watching. I do confess, the temptation was a little strong and I did download an EMP app. I turned it on 2 times, for less than 10 seconds each time and then decided against it. For me personally, it wasn't what I was there for.

On the morning of our departure, I had wandered down to the basement and my husband was outside. I snapped a few more pictures. And as I began to ascend the staircase to pack our overnight bag, I thought it a good idea to thank Mr. Tiedemann. And so, I did, aloud.

"Mr. Tiedemann, I humbly thank you for sharing your lovely home with us for the evening. It's a beautiful piece of history and I am honored to have been able to experience it."

As I left the staircase and entered what is now "Emma's Room", my husband was coming back in, and I heard the door open. And then, something quite unexpected happened. Music played.

It was very brief, almost like a channel had switched on then back off abruptly. I automatically assumed it was from his phone despite the sound coming from where the record player was in the next room. The unplugged record player without a record on it. But it's an old house and sound takes weird paths in an overly quiet, old home. So, I wasn't even going to mention it. He walked through the door, and I began chatting about coffee, taking our stuff downstairs to ready for checkout. Then as an afterthought, I mentioned the music.

Upon him swearing and myself swearing that neither of us had played it on our phone either intentionally or unintentionally, it was determined that the music was from an unknown source. It wasn't until much later that night, back at home that I mentioned talking out loud to Mr. Tiedemann and thanking him.

Was it a paranormal response to my gratitude? I honestly don't know. We left shortly thereafter.

I was satisfied with having been there and had even edited very slightly, my story, my chapter of The Franklin Castle while being in The Franklin Castle. That was an experience I had not imagined.

I know you're asking yourself, was that all that happened? Any other paranormal stuff? Any evil? Any ghosts? A few very minor things did occur and somewhat explainable. But, as the saying goes, Seek and ye shall find. I did not seek. The darkness? It's undoubtedly there, but not in the way one would think. It's not from the land, nor the architect, or even the Tiedemann's as far as I could tell. In fact, its eerily similar to a certain book whose spoilers shall not be mentioned. OUME.

Would I return to the castle? Most likely not. There's no reason for me to return and no curiosity about whatever else exists there. My few puzzle pieces I found fit together more than I hoped, and the rest of the random pieces are left for others to fill in or discard as needed.