At last. At last, at last, at last, I made the ferry trip to Toronto’s Island to visit the Gibraltar Lighthouse.
It’s haunted, you know.
Operational by 1808, the stone lighthouse at Gibraltar Point provided significant protection to Toronto’s harbour. In 1815, the lighthouse’s first keeper, J P Rademuller, disappeared. Two soldiers were charged with his murder, believed to have taken place when the soldiers visited Rademuller to partake in bootlegged beer. They were later acquitted, and later still, skeletal remains, including a jawbone, were found buried a short distance from the lighthouse.
On misty nights, moaning can be heard on the point, and witnesses claim to have seen the spectre of Rademuller wandering the grounds.
Wrap your fist around the knocker, press your eye to the keyhole.
Though I didn’t know the details at the time of my visit, I’d long known about the lighthouse’s haunted reputation. On approach, I’d felt a pull. Even though I hadn’t yet spotted the red roof, even though I thought I had farther to go, I was drawn to the less travelled path leading up to the lighthouse. I gave in to the pull, to see where the diversion would take me, and the lighthouse loomed before me. The sun, startling brilliant, illuminated the stone structure like a spotlight.
I snapped a few pictures, then felt another pull, toward the path that stretches beyond the lighthouse. I followed for a bit, then decided, no, I did not want to be open to this.
I took pictures on the trail, lingering, in case I changed my mind. My resolve didn’t change, and I returned to the lighthouse, took a few last pictures, including a photo of the plaque, which I did not read while I was there.
A few days later, I downloaded the pictures. On my laptop screen, the plaque was more readable:
THE LAKE LIGHT
This lighthouse, one of the earliest on the Great Lakes, was completed in 1808 as a hexagonal tower 52 feet high, topped by a wooden cage with a fixed whale-oil lantern. In 1832 it was raised to 82 feet and later equipped with a revolving light. The mysterious disappearance of its first keeper, J P Rademuller, in 1815, and the subsequent discovery nearby of part of a human skeleton enhanced its reputation as a haunted building.
A chill rippled in my belly as I recalled the temptation to wander down the path. Sure, I’ve got the world wide web at my fingertips, but I’m note sure if I ever want to know just where those remains were found. Was the skeleton found a few feet farther down the path that drew me with the hum of a magnet?
I’d rather not know, but the possibility delights!
And then, this pic, the image of shadow caught by my camera. Now, I know it is only
the shadow of a nearby tree, but if I look at the image at an angle, study the shape, engage imagination…
No, Imagination Mine! Keep thine ludicrous thoughts to thyself! ‘Tis the shadow of a tree, not a spectre!
Deny as I may, imagination persists.
What ghost stories are hidden in your local closet?
Well written, my
creepyimaginative, and open-to-the possibilities friend.There are times I wonder if I don’t experience these tugs at the subconscious because I don’t slow down long enough to listen for them. If so, I am missing things I’d love to experience.
Must. Get. Off. This. Page. Now.
That picture keeps calling me back for another look. A tree, you say?
I know! It is a tree, I know it is a tree. Look, branches, leaves, and yet… The imagination does like to roam.
Oh, you teaser you! I want to know what would have happened had you continued down that path. And where was the rest of his body if only part was found in the grave? And were the acquitted two actually guilty? I sense a story here, Sherry. And I have another question for you. Do you wish you had continued down that path?
Ah, there isn’t always an easy answer to the mysteries. The secrets die with the bearer. But it is great fodder from which to craft a story, isn’t it?
Do I wish I’d travelled further down that second path, the one leading into the brush? Alone? Um, no. But if I could have sent the Mars Rover in my place and received a full report, maybe.
I think these kinds of things are best done with a friend. It’s just too scary alone. Glad you followed the pull to get to the Island. I didn’t know about the light house. Very cool story.
Okay, Sharon. Next summer, you and me and a bottle of shiraz, er, courage!
I can’t believe you didn’t go down the path less traveled. On the other hand, I’m not sure I would have either! I take it you can’t go into the lighthouse? That would be cool too. Nice pics and a chilly tale.
Perhaps once I am famous, they’ll give me a private, guided tour. LOL
Sherry, I love your ghosts wanderings, your total pursuit of the spirit world
I think I’ve told you before. There are several theatres and hotels in NYC with famous ghosts … where the ecoplasm is fully formed and one man actually greets performers. It is not so frightening to think of them, or to wonder, where does our soul go when we’ve used up this body?
Also, the ghosts of Broadway are mostly happy, friendly souls who I suppose didn’t want to give up the life
Happy ghosts of Broadway. Hmm. I suspect ghosts of wineries would be just as cheerful. LOL
Have yet to be to NYC, but in Boston, Williamsburg and Ottawa, I’ve had opportunities to go on ghost walks, but haven’t. One of these days…
Love your photos, especially the it’s-not-a-spectre-it’s-a-tree one. I think you and Sharon should definitely go together to explore what is down the path. I’ll see if you can borrow my friend’s EVP reader to detect what ghostly presences might be lurking about.
Well, Tami, if the EVP reader belongs to your friend, then I think it is only right that you hand-deliver and operate said device. We’ll pack a lunch! I’ll even pay your fare on the ferry.
Are you certain that you aren’t meant to write horror?
I write with a paranormal edge, but horror? EEK!
I wasn’t aware of that story. What if you had gone with that pull … what if …
I agree with Brinda that a horror story should be in your future! You are SO good at spooky …
Patricia, what do you say we plan a haunted walking tour of Toronto this Halloween? Lots of fodder for future novels!
For my threadbare sanity I’m not into all the ghosts and goblins, but I promise I saw the image of a man in that final picture before I read the rest of your post. Chills! I’m crawling under my blankie now.
Ohh, ghost stories. Sometimes I don’t mind, sometimes I do. And I know what that “pull” is…