Ghosts of the SouthCoast (14 page)

Later, we shifted strategies and had Luann go downstairs while just the men remained on the third floor. We began speaking to Marie in a very direct and angry manner. We called her unmentionable names and told her she was worthless, to see if this approach would gather a stronger reaction from her. This is known as provoking the spirit, and while some consider it disrespectful, it can be very effective in getting paranormal activity to strengthen and become more overt.

Marie, though, simply made one last stand and then refused to say much more.

Cindy Bouchard, now the manager of the Wamsutta Club in New Bedford, worked in the same capacity at the Quequechan Club prior to Dan Silva taking ownership. She reported feeling a presence on that third floor, to the point where she would knock and announce herself before entering.

She shared the following experience in an email:

I worked at the Q-Club from 1988 to 1996. Here are several things that I remember that could be viewed as strange or paranormal. I always remember the feeling that I would get when I went upstairs to the back half of the third floor. It was used to hold extra dishes and a few supplies. We didn't store much up there because no one would go up there. I actually would knock on the door and announce myself before going in. I always felt a presence there.

We were closed on Saturdays and we had an outside catering job for a member's daughter's wedding. The entire staff was there and we loaded the trucks. I was the last one out and set the alarm. When we left the catering job to return to the club I was the first to arrive so that I could shut the alarm off. When I opened the door and turned on the light I saw a figure run up the stairs. I was startled and turned off the alarm. I walked over to the staircase and noticed an afghan lying on the stairs. I looked up but didn't go. The chef came in with the staff behind him so I told him about it. He decided to go upstairs to check it out. He of course didn't find anything. I folded the afghan and put it on the shelf in the ladies room. We cleaned up, put everything away and left. On Monday I returned and the afghan was gone.

We served lunch from 11:30 to 2:00 PM everyday. We would hear pool balls dropping on the hard wood floors upstairs. It was always at
lunchtime. We would check and there were no pool balls on the floor and no one was ever there.

One Saturday I was at the club doing some work. The maintenance man was working outside doing some landscaping. We were the only ones there. He came into my office and said that he was done and was going upstairs to take a shower before he left. I told him not to lock up because I would be working for awhile. He said fine and left to go upstairs. A few minutes later he came into my office very upset and told me that he didn't think that I was funny. I asked him what he was talking about. He said that when he got upstairs the shower was already on and there was shaving cream on the mirror that said “Get Out”. I tried to say that it wasn't me but he wouldn't listen and walked away. I went upstairs to check for myself and there was nothing there. No shaving cream and the shower wasn't on. I decided to go home too.

Research into the Q-Club has yet to determine who this Marie might have been, and if these claims of a third-floor bordello have any merit. The Quequechan Club of today, however, is a fine establishment of which this writer later became a card-carrying member.

Earlier in this book, we mentioned that most cemeteries don't get much attention from seasoned paranormal investigators. Oak Grove Cemetery in Fall River is one of the rare exceptions.

Oak Grove is the final resting spot of the Borden family and is a frequent stop for those who visit Fall River to investigate the murder case. A tall stone pillar marks the graves of Lizzie's father, Andrew Borden, his first wife (and Lizzie's mother), Sarah, and second wife, Abby. Lizzie, meanwhile, lay under a small, simple stone that reads “Lizbeth,” with none of the pomp or ornate style she became accustomed to later in her life.

Since Andrew and Abby were first interred at Oak Grove, there have been constant claims about their spirits lurking about the cemetery. Many people who visit the graves report getting sick to their stomachs and are overwhelmed with feelings of dread and paranoia. There are also reports of strange lights flitting about, and even screams that come from beneath that great stone pillar.

In 1992, during the centennial observance of the crime, forensic scientist James E. Starrs wanted to exhume Andrew and Abby to further examine their wounds and cause of death. His request was denied, and the bodies of Andrew and Abby remain six feet below the surface of Oak Grove Cemetery.

The question is—where are their souls?

We've already established that you can't separate Fall River from the tragedy of the Borden murders, when someone brutally murdered banker and merchant Andrew Borden and his second wife, Abby Durfee Gray Borden, with a hatchet on the morning of August 4, 1892. Even now, 118 years later (as of this writing), the stain on the city is just as fresh as it was then.

Let us start this discussion by stating that, for the record, Lizzie Borden was acquitted by a jury of her peers for the murders on June 20, 1893. As far as the Commonwealth of Massachusetts is concerned, there was reasonable doubt that Lizzie committed this heinous crime. Do I think she did it? Well, I often waver in that. I think she certainly had the motive—even beyond what we'll discuss later in this chapter.

The Lizzie Borden Bed & Breakfast in Fall River is the SouthCoast's most haunted house.

Lizzie Borden was a thirty-two-year-old spinster still living at home at the time of the murders. She longed for the life that her father's wealth could afford her family, yet in his miserly ways he chose not to provide. She loathed her stepmother, Abby, and was jealous of anything her father would give to her, whom Lizzie and older sister Emma viewed as an outsider even after more than a decade of living with her.

Andrew Borden was a hard man, one who viewed money and the accumulation of it above all else. His home at 92 Second Street was far more modest than it needed to be. Andrew could be living on the Hill with the rest of the Bordens and Fall River's upper class, but instead he chose to remain “down below.” He would not have indoor plumbing installed in his home, forcing his family to use chamber pots and an outhouse, like common peasants. He would often purchase nearly expired food in order to save a few pennies, and indeed, breakfast on the morning of his death included rancid mutton stew.

Lizzie Andrew Borden—spinster, socialite, accused murderer and ghost?
Courtesy of Stefani Koorey.

Abby, from all accounts, did the best she could with the family she married into. While not particularly loving, she wasn't exactly abusive either. But as is often the case with children who lose a parent to an untimely death, the “steppie” could never replace the parent lost.

The Borden House in 1892.
Courtesy of Stefani Koorey.

Increasing arguments over money and one piece of property in particular is believed to be at the root of the tension that existed in the Borden household on that warm August morning.

Since this book is about the ghosts and not about solving what was the crime of the nineteenth century, we'll leave it at that. In order to give the reader a more accurate view of what went down in the Borden house on that particular day, I've included a modified timeline from the
Tattered Fabric
blog of Borden expert Faye Musselman (
phayemuss.wordpress.com
) that is an excellent Lizzie Borden resource. In addition, Musselman has acquired some interesting documents that breathe new life into the Borden case, which she shared publicly for the first time on the July 31, 2010 edition of
Spooky Southcoast
and which we will recount later in this chapter.