Paris, Part 2

After lunch, Darin drove me around Paris. Darin moved to Bourbon County when he was nine. He pointed out various locations of significant impact in his teenage years. In his younger years, Darin and his friends made a point of ridding all of Paris of black lawn jockeys. Even to a teenage Darin, they seemed to be a reflection of lingering attitudes. In order to show their disdain for the jockeys, they took them to a bridge and threw them over. While we didn't stop to look, I am certain that the cemetery of freed jockeys remains.

I have a fascination with abandoned buildings. I have spent hours trolling the internet looking for pictures and tales of explorations. I am especially excited by abandoned buildings that contain artifacts from the building's previous life. Most abandoned buildings have been turned into trash cans and a canvas for bad graffiti. Several years ago, we purchased Weird Kentucky. I got so giddy reading that book, because it contained so many places I have already been, often without knowing the history. I read about the old TB Hospital in Paris and I have since heard many stories about it. Everyone seems to have a story about a friend that visited it once, experiencing some sort of supernatural horror. Darin told me of going there late one night in high school with some buddies. The friends went in to explore, while Darin stayed out. He said it was creepy, but nothing happened. The only exciting thing that resulted from the visit was his friends finding an 8 track and bringing it out to him. It was a Lonnie Liston Smith album that we now have on vinyl.

I wanted to see the hospital. On our way, I expected it to be in the middle of nowhere. Instead, it sits atop a hill, overlooking the city park and fair grounds. An old, supposedly haunted building in the middle of a place filled with excitement. An odd place to build a park. The building is surprisingly accessible. We drove right up. There wasn't a single window with glass remaining and the broken glass was everywhere. There were several access points we could have entered, but I had no desire to explore inside. We could see inside the doors. They were littered with tuna/cat food cans and bad graffiti. The musty stench was horrid. While walking around, we peered into several doors, but we were unable to see anything significant.





For More info about the hospital and its hauntings, click here

While we were there, Darin and I were discussing ghosts. Denali was all ears and kept asking questions about ghosts. We have a ghost in our house. I see her often, Darin has seen her before and numerous people who lived here before us have seen or felt her. When we returned home, Denali asked questions, "What if the ghost is in my bedroom? Does she steal my toys?"(The Salvation Army steals his toys. Please don't tell.) I have told him repeatedly that she is nice and played a trick on me once. I told him about the first ghost I ever saw. I was walking in the pitch dark and tripped on a roller skate. As was falling, I saw black hands surrounded by white light and felt very cold, but then suddenly, I was standing up straight. When told him this story, he was more comfortable with the idea of a ghost in our house. Last night, we decided to give her a name. Since our home was built at the the turn of the century, I assumed that she was possibly born around that time as well. I looked up the Social Security Administration's website and found the top 50 baby names of 1900. Denali and I chose the name Eleanor. This afternoon, he heard his sister open the door upstairs and said, "Did you hear that? I bet it was just Eleanor teasing us."