Ghosts of the SouthCoast (9 page)

The current condition of the building is even more of a nightmare than the ghosts that haunt it, as an upper floor has reportedly rotted away completely, crashing into the level below it. Flooding is another problem as well.

When it was still staffed by the National Guard, the guardsmen would often report seeing a black-hooded figure lurking about in the shadows, and an unseen
force that would shove them from behind. Whatever it was also had enough strength to violently slam some of the heavy steel doors within the armory.

The building is now closed permanently, and trespassers will be prosecuted to the fullest extent of the law.

Numerous students of New Bedford schools who have heard our radio show have contacted us to say they've had experiences in their school. One elementary school is rumored to be haunted by a former principal that died on the school grounds, although there is no verification of any such death.

Other rumored but unconfirmed deaths are said to be the cause of alleged haunts at New Bedford High School. The activity reported includes slamming lockers and sinks that turn themselves on. There is also a story about someone who hanged himself in the projection booth of the high school auditorium, whose ghost remains behind, keeping an eternal watch over the stage. Lights going on and off and curtains closing on its own are some of the most frequent reports associated with this spirit.

Ironically, the same story is attached to the historic Zeiterion Theater in downtown New Bedford. The claim is that shortly after the 1923 opening of the venue, profits weren't as great as anticipated and, distraught, the owner of the theater hanged himself in the projection booth. According to an internet report, there are rooms without doors, doors without rooms and hallways that lead to nowhere.

Considering how cozy the theater already is, it's doubtful anyone would construct a venue in such a fashion. In 2007, when I inquired about it, management at the Z denied any such claims—although they wouldn't let me snoop around to check it out for myself, either.

Not far from the Zeiterion Theater is the Wamsutta Club, one of the finest private clubs in the country. It originally was organized by Charles Warren Clifford in 1866 as a baseball club, but it wasn't long before it grew into a social club and was formally chartered in 1889. Over the years it was housed in a few different locations before settling in the former mansion of James Arnold, its current location, in 1919. The mansion was built in 1921 and has since been expanded to accommodate the club's members.

The Wamsutta Club in New Bedford has its own high-class hauntings.

Not only was the club moving into classy digs, but they were classy digs that had been owned by classy people. Arnold had been involved in the whaling industry and had amassed a great fortune, which he used to fund his lavish gardens that he would open to the public. His wife, Sara, the daughter of his business partner William Rotch, was also known for her work with the poorer citizens of New Bedford.

In its time, the Wamsutta Club has featured some of the most prominent citizens of New Bedford in its membership—from the whaling magnates to those who made their fortunes in the booming textile business of the early 1900s, the club was a who's who of the Whaling City.

However, the Great Depression meant the club had to lower its membership dues and, in doing so, opened its doors to a much wider portion
of SouthCoast citizens. Even today, the club is affordable enough for middle-class families to enjoy a taste of the upper-class life.

For as long as its history may be, there are actually few reports of paranormal activity that come out of the club. That may be more because of the tight-lipped nature of private club membership, but Eric LaVoie, the founder of Dartmouth Anomalies Research Team (DART), heard from an employee of the club that the place was actually quite haunted. He reported hearing the service elevator going off on its own, when he and the person he was working with were the only people in the building. He also reported that many employees refused to go in the basement or the boiler room because they always feel as if they are being watched.

After contacting club manager Cindy Bouchard, Eric received clearance from the board of directors to become the first paranormal team to investigate the Wamsutta Club.

Eric assembled a team that included Linda Lynch of Veils Edge Paranormal, Andrew Lake of Greenville Paranormal Research and EVP researcher Mike Markowicz, and the investigation was filmed for a DVD by Aldimar Video Productions and covered by a local journalist named Bob Eckstrom. With access to areas that are even off-limits to the paying members, the investigators said they felt no uneasy feelings anywhere in the building—except in the basement and the boiler room. They detected no high electromagnetic fields, or EMF, that would cause people to have the sensation of being watched. Also while investigating down there, they captured a number of intriguing EVPs, including one that said “don't be afraid,” another that said “it's evil; pick up the hatchet” and one that called Eric by name.

Eric also asked if the spirits minded the investigators being there, to which he received a reply of “I don't” as an EVP.

Another area that proved to be active was the private apartments that are within the club, for those who choose to stay there. One resident described frequently waking up to odd sounds and the feeling of an unseen presence.

Linda, who is a medium, detected the spirit of Sara Arnold still attached to the property as well as the spirit of a man standing near the bar in the Rounder's Club located in the basement. She also reported feeling as though someone had been killed in that downstairs portion and the body was dumped in some sort of river, although she's found nothing in historical records to verify it yet.

Those who had the chance to investigate the Wamsutta Club agree that there is great potential for a residual haunting on the property, and that there may even be a number of intelligent spirits still hanging around. If so, let's hope they've paid their membership dues.

After the British successfully raided and burned much of the SouthCoast's homes in 1778, local merchants started pulling together the funds and manpower necessary to erect some means of protection along the shores of New Bedford Harbor at Clark's Point.

At first, they put up a wooden beacon in 1797; a lighthouse followed in 1804. But, following the War of 1812, the need for better defense had more citizens concerned about protecting the city and its growing whaling industry from outside invaders. In the late 1840s, it was decided that a permanent military fort was needed at Clark's Point, but it wasn't until 1857 that they purchased the lands necessary to do so. Meanwhile, the Civil War broke out, and on May 11, 1861, Fort Taber became operational. Its construction was overseen by Captain Henry Martyn Robert, who would later devise
Robert's Rules of Order,
which are still in use today.

Ghostly wars are still raging at the Fort Taber–Fort Rodman complex on the southern tip of New Bedford.

Following the Civil War, more additions were made to the fort, which was renamed in 1898 for Lieutenant Colonel William Rodman, a New Bedford native who died in the Civil War. The two batteries next to the fort were constructed in 1899, and the installation remained operational through World Wars I and II before eventually being decommissioned and sold to the city; it is now a state park.

Many Civil War sites are imprinted with residual energy from those horrific battles. Gettysburg, for example, is considered by many to be the most haunted site in the world. The brutality of the dawn of modern warfare, combined with the emotional turmoil of fighting a war against one's own countrymen, made the psychic scars of the conflict worse than any other before or since. It's not unimaginable that even a small degree of those feelings have also imprinted themselves on the fort at Clark's Point.

As with most military haunts, phantom gunfire is frequently reported. Although the main facility of the fort is boarded up, there are a few spots where you can peer through worn-away stone; often, ghostly soldiers are seen patrolling the inside. The batteries feature a number of former storerooms that are now open and empty, and visitors at night have seen shadow figures darting among those storerooms, walking along the main structure's roof or seen in the lighthouse at the top of the fort.

There is also a Tiger tank from World War II on display outside the Fort Taber–Fort Rodman Military Museum, and at least one witness has reported seeing the apparition of a mechanic checking out the tank.

New Bedford of the early 1800s featured a unique dichotomy. There were still the remnants of the Puritans and Quakers who had originally settled the SouthCoast, frequently crossing paths with the rough-and-tumble lot that comprised the crews of the whaling vessels that sailed out of the harbor. Especially along the waterfront, there was a seedy underbelly to the Whaling
City that caused many residents to worry about the eternal souls of the whalers and sailors.

One group came together in 1830 as the New Bedford Port Society and was “dedicated to the moral and religious improvement of Seamen.” In early 1831, they constructed a chapel with the intention of making it nondenominational but open to every sailor in order to worship and pray before heading out to sea. The Seamen's Bethel opened in May of 1832 and was made famous as the Whaleman's Chapel in Melville's
Moby Dick
in 1851.

Thirty-one black-framed cenotaphs adorn the chapel walls, representative of those men and ships lost at sea. There are still services held today to pray for the souls of those who never sailed home and perished in Davy Jones's Locker.

Melville wrote a famous scene in which a clergyman gives a hellfire-and-brimstone sermon on a pulpit that looks like the bow of a whaling vessel. However, that was a bit of creative license on his part; no such pulpit existed. When the 1956 film version of the book, starring Gregory Peck, introduced a whole new generation to the story of the great white whale, tourism increased at the Seamen's Bethel yet most remained disappointed in not seeing the peculiar pulpit as described by Melville; in 1961, one was built, and it remains one of the most enduring images from the Bethel.

This pulpit was inspired by
Moby Dick
and constructed in 1961. Does a ghostly clergyman offer his spectral sermons from its bow?