Dear God

I don't have a normal posting for you today with exploration, creepy, and history. I do have more of that coming, but I've had some big life events going on. First, I moved cross country back to where I'm from. Second, I got a new job. And third, I'm buying a house. Thank you in advanced for understanding why I haven't posted anything. Just know it's not my lack of passion for my exploration, sleuthing, and writing - once I fall back into a normal routine I'll be posting more regularly. Today though, I'm going to be focusing on some philosophy, which is one of my favorite subjects. Feel free to skip this passion piece, I'll have more invigorating content for you soon. 

If you know me, which you probably do by finding this blog, you'll know my relationship with religion is complicated. I wasn't raised religious, but got baptized under the Protestant Christian church in high school. I was always into witchcraft though growing up, most people thinking it was just a phase. In college and on the East Coast, I converted to Orthodox Christianity. That's what I am to this day, and my official label. However, European Paganism, Wiccan practices, and witchcraft are all intermingled in me too. I'm spiritual and dance with several customs. I know when the bible refers to paganism, they're talking about the pagan tribes of the ancient Middle East. Jesus had never been to Europe, and knew nothing of those tribes practices. A lot of people hear the word "pagan" and scare away from it, but it just essentially means a belief that isn't Christian. Some of my ancestral roots are European, and European Paganism is my history. I know God wouldn't object to that. In fact, a lot of European Paganism practices are now seen as Christian traditions. It was a way for Christians to help convert the European Pagans, by centering their events around Pagan holidays. I mean, you didn't think Jesus of the Middle Eastern desert had ever seen a Christmas tree, did you?

There's a lot of that subject, but my point is I have no problem mixing my beliefs, because they're already mixed and have similar foundations anyways. Casting spells isn't much different than praying. A pentagram is a beautiful sign, one that represents the four elements (earth, air, fire, and water) with spirit joining them together at the top of the star. I just feel that spirit is God, but it can be anything to anyone. These beliefs aren't enemies, and I make it work beautifully for me.

Recently, someone very close to me told me they were having a baby. They're a Protestant Christian, and I didn't think much of it. Then they got strict with me. They told me their future child is going to be raised in the church, and they didn't want any of my "wiccan stuff" to be around it. 

It got me thinking about just how narrow of a view people can have. I mean, I remember being a Protestant though. I was taught to put up this wall, a wall to be proud of. That if anything goes against "God" or "the bible," it's temptation from the devil. If you don't understand the bible, or the history of it, you'd proudly go against "satanic" pagan practices, since the bible condemns Paganism. I could feel this woman's demeanor, that she was doing the best for her child by sheltering it from my beliefs. But it just made me sad - sad about how stuck someone can be in a scope they refuse to look out of. 

When I first heard the song "Dear God" by Lawless, my initial reaction was to think it was a song going against Christianity. I loved the passion in it, but felt it wasn't a good song to keep on my playlist. Then I listened to it again, and again, and again. That's when I realized how shallow I had been about it. How the passion I felt about this song was right, and I wasn't looking deep enough into the message. The song is about a person who looks out into a world full of conflict and pain, and is heartbroken. When she says "I don't believe in You," or "I can't believe in You," it's with a sense of betrayal from God - she's not saying God doesn't exist. It's like when a family member or friend continuously lets you down and you can't believe in them anymore, as in trust in their character or rely on them. That's the way this song is. She's screaming out for God to hear her pain, pleading to help the suffering she's witnessing in the world, but all she hears is silence. It keeps continuing to happen, and she's lost faith not in the existence in God, but in the trust she had for Him.

I know many Christians who would see one lyric from this song and immediately think it's an atheist mindset and temptation from the devil for them to hear. To plant a seed of doubt in their minds. And that's sad, but it was also my surface-level reaction too. The song is about someone so low on faith and they need a ray of hope. They don't need backs turned on them because of what they're feeling. Right now the church is encouraging people to abandon others who don't see things the same way they do as a way for the Christians to "protect" themselves and their relationship with God. This wall to protect yourself from doubt and "temptation" is hurting everyone. If everyone in Christianity kept listening to the song, and started to realize it's true message by hearing the cries in this woman's voice about how much she wants to believe in God, but feels she can't anymore, maybe more people wouldn't be turning their backs on the church. Refusing to listen to people's doubts on religion is not something to be proud of or strict about. People are losing faith in God, because those with faith in God aren't listening to the reasons people have doubts. There is no "seed of doubt" from Satan, and if there is, trust yourself and your relationship and knowledge in God to keep your faith strong. Christians need to quit abandoning everyone and every belief that doesn't align with theirs. They'll end up pushing everyone away, which only hurts God. This goes back to someone telling me to hide my beliefs, which is what makes me who I am. Their hard stance only does damage to everyone involved in the end. 

Dear God is a beautiful, powerful song. I hope anyone reading this can go and listen to it, and really hear it. There's so much more to it that I can't write out, but think of it like a story with chapters. It's too much for words. Thanks for reading my thoughts. 

New York, New York!

I've dreamed of going to New York since I was in grade school and had to sing Frank Sinatra's "New York, New York" for choir. The perfect time to go was when I lived in Saratoga Springs, NY. I took a train all the way to that bustling city. If you've never been there, want a refresher on what it looks like, or just want to see my perspective of the city, come with me to tour through some of it.

Passing this under-construction bridge while on the train.

The train experience was new to me too. The West Coast doesn't have many trains, especially not in rural areas like where I'm from. There were a couple of different carts on the train. One was a "quiet" cart, where people wanted to sleep. The other option was one where people could talk and have conversations. I took the latter; however, it was about five in the morning, so no one was really talking on that one either.

I arrived early in the morning at Penn Station, although this picture was taken later in the day. This was  my first view into the city. The Empire State Building, and all of the huge advertisements everywhere. Even though it so early in the morning, the city was buzzing with people. 

The first place we went to was Times Square, but I didn't take any photos. It was just so busy, and there was an extremely prevalent amount of advertisements in your face. Pretty overwhelming to say the least. None of the stores were open yet either due to it being so early. My husband and I ended up just standing and people watching, which was the best part of the trip, but that's not me saying this trip was boring. There's a reason there's a Humans of New York chapter on the internet. It was fascinating to see the hustle and bustle from the people of the city. Businessmen and businesswomen running to work, vendors coming to life, people in the streets trying to sell me a variety of random stuff. I've been to a lot of cities, but New York is the most alive and personal one I've visited to date.

The above photo is of a park we found to do more people watching. I loved the vines growing on building - being incorporated with it.

 

That wasn't the only place I saw Earth being incorporated with man-made structures. Here were some trees planted on top of a building. It gave me Singapore vibes.

 

The park I was at was called Bryant Park. I saw this statue of Gertrude Stein, who is most well known as an American novelist. 

"Gertrude Stein

1874-1946

By Jo Davidson, 1923

Bronze Cast, 1991"

Behind her, you can see these tall, antique-looking buildings. A lot of times I've only imagined New York to be new and slick, so this was a good reminder of its history. I'm happy they've kept it alive.

A statue of who I'm assuming this park is named after, William Cullen Bryant, an American poet and journalist.

"William Cullen Bryant

1794-1878

'Yet let no empty gust

  Of passion find an utterance in thy lay,

A blast that whirls the dust

  Along the howling street and dies away;

But feelings of calm power and mighty sweep,         

Like currents journeying through the windless deep.'"

I wanted to put these two photos next to one another to compare the architecture of old versus new. I personally like the old better, but the new is pretty exciting too.

Here is the Empire State Building up close and inside. It was the tallest building in the area, and it felt like I could see it from every place I went to. The golden plaque was glittering to see. Although, they wanted $30 each to go to the top of the building, so my husband and I decided not to go. $60 to go to the top of a building? I mean, come on. 

Another angle seeing it. It popped up everywhere I went. 

I walked for miles all around just this one section of the city. I only had the day there so I didn't get to see Lady Liberty or Central Park. I did get to eat locally though, and see their famous wax museum. At the end of it, I found myself back at Bryant Park relaxing. It felt a lot less busy after their lunch rush, and probably less busy than Central Park would have been. 

If it feels like this blog is all over the place, it's because I was all over the place in New York. Just staying in the general area of Times Square, there was so much to see. The one place that was the "home port" for the day was Bryant Park. Up above is a random street. Surprisingly, this street probably had less people than others. Looking at the architecture, you can see the incorporation of old and new buildings.

One of the cooler shots I got that day. It was an exquisite, smooth, modern building. Imagine, in there there's hundreds of tiny offices. 

The Macy's store was enormous. It had multiple floors, and the outside was decorated in an ancient Greek/Roman style. I didn't think I'd ever see Macy's so classy, but they really incorporated the storefront with the building around them. Nifty. 

Here was the Garden. It was right next to Penn Station. Around this area there was a bunch of small restaurants and a food court. I got a very tasty smoothie from this place. 

You can see this art piece in my third picture on this blog. I was closer to it here, but this was the same block as Penn Station, the Garden, and the food court. This art piece was titled the "Human Structures" by Jonathan Borofsky. It's a human pyramid structure, and according to the artist himself,  “It’s humanity connecting together to build our world." He actually wants people to climb about inside the structure and essentially become a part of the art piece.

This was the last piece of art I saw in the area, before I went back home. It's the Mirrored Teardrop Sculpture on Plaza #33, created by Richard Hudson. I love this photo because it represents what I saw at New York the best. On the left is the glossy, modern architecture that defines New York in the present day. On the right is the classical, old architecture that takes me back to the Great Gatsby era of New York. And in the middle is a gleaming, steel piece of art, with my husband and I taking a picture of it. 

This picture sums up my time in New York - people, buildings, art, design, food, and me on an adventure through it all. While I didn't get to see a gloss over of everything in New York, I did get see the nooks and crannies of one beautiful neighborhood from it. My advice to any readers who decide to go visit - you can get caught up in the chaos of the city and have fun, but take time to sit, breathe, and watch the people, buildings, and art around you. There's so much to see, and it's worth it to look.

Stick Indians

Stick Indians are an old, Native American legend which varies across multiple tribes. There isn't a lot of fact, consistency, or certainty on the legend due to these variations. It also doesn't help that mostly all tribes believe that even speaking their name is an invitation for them to come to you, so even with the little, varying information we have, it's still not a lot of knowledge of them overall. The term "Stick Indian," is an overarching term to describe these creatures, but due to the fact that Native's won't utter their names in their languages, we really don't know any other names they actually hold.

On the website called Native Languages, it says they derive from the Pacific Northwest, which is where I'm from. Some tribes believe these are spirits that take the form of a bigfoot-shaped creature (the Salish tribe believes this). Others think they are small men, or dwarf-like forms (the Cayuse and Yakam tribes hold this belief). Another commonly accepted theory is they take shape like regular humans, with Native American qualities. In the Washington State University Online Library, in the archives and special collections section, there's an account where they refer to Stick Indians as "Stick Shower Indians." In the cascades, this account is by a hunter and his wife who claims to have encountered them. To them, the "Stick Showers" were the human-looking forms that had characteristics of Natives. I'll link the story if you'd like to read it : https://plateauportal.libraries.wsu.edu/digital-heritage/ste-ye-h%C3%A1h-mah-sic-or-stick-shower-indians-7  - It's a scan of a complete, nine-page paper on these creatures of legend, and the hunter's account starts on page two. It's an interesting read, but too long to put into here.

Stick Indians aren't to be confused with Skinwalkers, which are more so thought to be a witch who can take over the soul or disguise themselves as an animal. They're also not to be confused with the Wendigo, which are said to be humans who turned cannibalistic for a long amount of time and transformed into monstrous creatures due to their consumption of human flesh.

Stick Indians do share animalistic qualities like Skinwalkers though, in the sense that they can mimic animals to lure victims. By most accounts, Stick Indians will usually leave people alone, or play mild jokes on a tribe. However, they can turn malicious if they are threatened or challenged. According to Astonishing Legends, some tribes believe they can hypnotize victims to lure them into the woods, or just drive them completely insane. There is a lot of mental tactics Stick Indians attempt to use on their victims. Paralysis is another act of mental warfare they're able to do.

These creatures are nocturnal by most accounts, although some hunters claim they've seen these creatures during the daytime. There are various ways you can summon them, but challenging or disrespecting them is probably the most sure way to get them after you. Although, like I said before, other tribes believe just uttering their name summons them. Even actions as simple as whistling in the forest at night is an additional, hypothesized way to call their attention to you.

They're the creatures a lot of people blame for causing them to get lost in the forest. Reports have said hikers, campers, hunters, etc., suddenly get the feeling as if they're being hypnotized to go somewhere. By the time their mind clears up and they become aware again, they have no idea where they are. Some say they'll trick your mind into thinking there's a trail to go down on, often times to find a "paradise" of sorts, like a beautiful pond you want to take a cooling sip of water out of. If you can snap out of it though, you'll look around and realize there was never a trail for you to follow to begin with.

What do Stick Indians do with their victims? Use your imagination on evil actions something can do on a person, and that's all been speculated to be what they do. Eating children, or any human, making "wives" of women, slaves of people, or just killing their victims, are various guesses. Stick Indians are thought to be blamed for a lot of missing persons cases in the woods.

I bring up Stick Indians because my interest got peaked four years ago about them. I was camping with my husband and my dog at the Van Duzen, Swimmers Delight County Park. I'd camped there before when I was growing up and various times into my college years, so it's a place I'm familiar with. We picked the sight right next to the camp host, because I liked being near the bathrooms and showers. My husband and I have a routine when we camp. We look around the site for anything lost (ironically, I once found a skeleton key as a child when I went camping at the site I was staying at), sticks for kindling, and just to make sure there's no poison oak in the site. We didn't see anything. We laid out our tent, our supplies, and set up camp so to speak. We camped for a few days. Everyday we went around the site to pick up twigs for kindling, and never saw anything there. On the last day of camping, we got up to make breakfast before we started to pack up and go. We went to go look around the camp for twigs for the morning fire, and right by the firepit, we found this :

Thoroughly freaked out, each me and my husband asked if we were playing a prank on one another. We weren't. I thought it might have been a kid who placed it in our site as a joke, and that is a possibility. Although it's worth noting that it was a Monday morning, and we were one of the few people who had stayed Sunday night. One thing I know for sure though is that the figure wasn't there the last few days. We would have seen it and we vigorously checked our site everyday. 

At first I thought it was a deranged bunny, with the X's as a threat for death. It wasn't until after I moved to Charleston, about half a year later, that I even heard about Stick Indians for the first time on Reddit. After we had this knowledge, my husband and I were going through our old, camping pictures and saw this. He said "hey, it's made out of sticks, and the top looks like a feathered, Native headdress." 

Whether it was made by some malevolent, threatening wood-spirits, or a family in the site before us, you have to admit that the face is very off-putting and just plain creepy. Whatever the case, I was happy we were leaving the day we found it.

There's a lot of diverse accounts of these Native American legends, but the foundation is the same. Don't summon these creatures and have a strong mind when you're out in the woods. I hope I gave you enough facts, but you can fall down the rabbit hole yourself if you want to look up more about this legend. 

There's a lot going on in this world right now with the Coronavirus pandemic. A domino effect that stems from the virus, all the way to the world's economy. It's an anxious time. Just remember one thing. If you decide to go on a walk to relieve some stress and get some air from all the tension of COVID-19, make sure you watch out for Stick Indians.

Old Charleston Jail

I want to start off the blog letting you know a lot of these photos have what some consider "orbs" in them. I took these photos almost three years ago when I was living in Charleston, SC with my old camera. The Old Charleston Jail was very dusty, and decrepit, as you'll see soon . Many people believe orbs in photos represent a spirit or something supernatural, while others hypothesize they're just dust particles. Given this jail's history with death, and the dusty interior it holds now, either of these is a viable option to believe. I'll let the reader decide what these orbs mean to you. The only point I'll bring up myself, is that I've visited a lot of abandoned places - crumbling, disintegrating, and very old places. My camera has never caught as many orbs in those areas as it did here.

(Those reflectors under each window are there purposefully and are not up to interpretation. They're reflecting my camera's flash. They were put in to mark the structure of the building at the time when the city was renovating and ensuring the jail was structurally sound.)

My husband took me on a night tour through the Old Charleston Jail a few days after my 21st birthday. Since I love paranormal - and historical -  locations, it was a very sweet gift for him to give me.

The Charleston County Jail was opened in 1802. It ran until 1939 as a jail, and remained mainly abandoned until the year 2000. There were efforts throughout the city of Charleston to preserve historical buildings, and this was when the American College of the Building Arts decided to buy the property. We'll talk more about that later though. When the jail was originally built, it had four stories and an eight-sided tower in it.

Five decades (in 1855) after the jail was first opened, Louis J. Barbot and John H. Seyle designed some improvements to it. They expanded the main building and added a new wing in the back of the building. They also decided to add some Romanesque details to the jail to help spruce it up. Unfortunately, in 1866 an earthquake hit the city of Charleston. It undid most of what the designers and architectures had added to the building only a decade earlier, as well as damaged the tower and top floor. Due to this, all of those elements were permanently removed. 

Additionally, the entire square this jail was included in had some malevolent uses as well. The square housed this jail, a hospital, a poorhouse, and a workhouse for slaves who had tried to runaway. As you can see, the land surrounding this jail is filled with a lot of pain and suffering.

The jail also housed some infamous inmates who left their mark on the local history of the city. You can come inside the jail with me, and I'll tell you more about them.

Through hallways and rusted doors in this jail, everything felt extremely eerie. 

This jail housed a great number of people. It imprisoned many who were waiting to be hanged, like fugitives, pirates, gang members, and even some slaves. In 1822, Denmark Vesey attempted to orchestrate a slave rebellion. The slaves, and anyone who was in on the rebellion plan, were punished. Some of the slaves were held in this jail while they waited to be tried, as well as four white men who had been a part of the plan as well. Even black seamen who were in port in Charleston, who had taken no part in Vesey's plan, were held here, as limitations were put on all blacks in Charleston due to the attempted plot of rebellion. Denmark Vesey himself was said to have lived the last days of his life in the tower of the jail, before he was hung.

During the Civil War, both Confederate and Union soldiers were jailed here too. 

I remember going down these halls and being introduced to a mental insane room. I can't remember which of my pictures were of the room, or if I even took any, but I do remember them describing to me that it was a room for a "prisoners own safety." They were isolated and alone in there, but would try to find anything they could to kill themselves, even if that meant just banging their head on the walls until they were dead. Many times they'd be restrained, but sometimes even that couldn't protect them from their temptation of taking their lives. 

Now if you're familiar with the history of this jail at all, you'll know I've saved the most known prisoners who were housed in this jail for last. Their names were Lavinia and John Fisher. Lavinia Fisher was the first woman (that we know of) in America's history to be a serial killer. 

The Fisher's owned and ran an inn called the Six Mile Wayfarer House in Charleston, SC. This was technically an inn, but the old stories go their inn housed multiple outlaws as well. John and Laviania themselves were in a gang. Innocent travelers who stayed at their inn were given dinner, asked how much money they made, then sent up to their rooms with poisoned tea that caused them to pass out and sleep. After they slept, there are two different versions of what would happen to these people. One is that a lever would be pulled and the bed would fall in, then they'd land in a pit. Some say this pit was filled with spikes, but no one knows for sure about that, or exactly what the Fishers and their gang did to these poor humans besides killing and robbing them. The other version is that John would sneak into the traveler's room and stab them to death, before robbing them and disposing of the body. Either way, many people died in the Fisher's inn. 

How'd they get caught then? Well it was two eyewitnesses that happened one after the other that got them caught. The first was David Ross, who was part of a vigilante gang to help combat the crime in the area from local gangs. He was attacked by two men and Lavinia, and she herself choked him and busted his head through a window. Somehow he survived and got away, thus alerting authorities. 

The next was a man named John Peeples who was traveling through the area. His setup was the normal routine - he had dinner with the Fishers and was questioned about how much money he had. He was given tea, but due to his distaste for the stuff, he poured it out when Lavinia wasn't looking so he wouldn't be rude. He was sent to bed, but grew suspicious of the essential cross examination he had been given at dinner about his money. He feared he would be robbed, so he decided to stay in the wooden chair instead of the bed. After a few hours, he claimed that the bed fell into the pit, and he realized what was happening. He escaped out of the window and immediately went to law enforcement, who now had enough evidence to charge the Fishers and the others from their gang. 

They were housed in the Charleston County Jail in 1819 and 1820. They attempted to escape once with a rope made from the bedding from their shared cell, and John even got out. However, the rope broke and Lavinia couldn't get out, and John refused to go without her. He was found and put back in the cell. Lavinia never thought she would actually be killed for her actions during this. However on February 4th, 1820, both John and Lavinia were sentenced to be hung right outside of the jail. 

After this sentencing, John decided to be ministered by Reverend Richard Furman. He supposedly became a Christian in his end days, and tried to plead with the courts that he was innocent and wanted mercy. Before he was hung, he asked the 2,000 persons crowd watching to forgive him. 

Lavinia declined any counsel or ministry. Before they pulled the lever to hang her, she screamed out, "if any of you have a message for the devil, tell me now, for I shall be seeing him shortly." 

Lavinia is thought to haunt the jail to this day, and her maleficent presence is especially felt on the second floor of the location. This is the floor her and her husband's cell had been at. 

There are many stories and sighting that have been seen of her, and the other ghost who haunt this location. A few shows have even done episodes on it, like Ghost Adventures or Ghost Hunters. 

My personal experience was that I did find many orbs in my photos, and I also felt a heavy presence in the jail. Some rooms in the jail felt more crushing on me than others. There was even one part that the tour guide told us to get our phones out and start playing a video. When we did, their were dozens and dozens of orbs floating upwards on our screens in whatever direction we pointed them at. I looked at everyone's screens, and they all had this multitude of orbs showing up like a tidal wave. I don't know how you could fake that.

For 61 years after the jail was closed in 1939, it stood empty and abandoned. Then in 2000, the American College of Building Arts bought it to help restore and preserve it. Charleston was trying hard to restore its city after Hurricane Hugo had hurt many its structures in 1989. The college brought the jail back to life with their efforts of restoration, and most of the jail is in it's original state, but now more structural safe. Any new craftsmanship fits the time when it was originally built. The jail is also a part of the project called Save America's Treasures by the National Trust for Historic Preservation and the White House Millennium Council. In 2016, the jail was sold to a real estate developer, so the students of the American College of Building Arts are no longer involved with it. However, this college and all involved deserve the credit for this jail being resurrected, revitalized, and given the chance to be safely shown to the public. 

They still give tours throughout the jail. If you're ever in the area, I highly recommend you go and see this location for yourself, particularity on a night tour. I'd love to hear about any sightings you have there, or anything you may feel just by walking through the dark halls. Be warned though, while you'll be safe from any physical threats when visiting, I can't say the same about spiritual ones. Some spirits enjoy leeching onto those who come and visit them.

New Orleans and Muriel's Jackson Square

When my husband and I had our wedding ceremony, we decided to get back home, we'd have a road trip honeymoon. We saw the amazing scenes like the Grand Canyon, San Antonio, TX, Roswell, NM, but the one I was looking most forward to was New Orleans. That place had been romanticized to me since I was a kid. The jazz, culture, and soul of the city was something I had always dreamed of going to.

Unfortunately, the city wasn't as great as I'd hoped. The streets smelled like urine, there was no music, and it just felt like it had no charm or acceptance to outsiders. We stayed at a hotel in the French Quarter. Everything was decorated beautifully, like the above picture, but it all felt empty too. We saw some interesting sites when walking, but there was a lot of pan handlers out, and locals kept shouting about their hate for tourists as we were checking out the area.

We managed to go by an old church "Cathedral- Basilica of Saint Louis King of France." We couldn't go inside of it, but it was looming and gorgeous. 

The plaque says :

"On The Occasion Of His Second Pastoral Visit To The United States of America

His Holiness

Pope John Paul II

Worshiped With Clergy And Religious In This Historical Basilica

September 12, 1987"

There were many dazzling structures like this magnificent church. 

While I'm not trying to make my experience negative, the city made me feel let down. I really wanted to love New Orleans, but it was a whirlwind of vacant culture through most of my time visiting it.

I'd compare my experience to this - New York City used to have a lot of culture and a rich history to it. This attracted many people to live there to get the "New York experience." This inflated the market, brought in business people who wanted to profit off the popularity, pushed the real New Yorkers out, and now New York is a shell of what it used to be. It looks the part, but it's not what originally enticed people to go and experience it. New Orleans was designed that way too. Corporations took over, money took the front lines. They attract tourists to come based on its past reputation - the historical areas are alluring because of their former culture. (I also don't blame tourists for coming to this place. I know there's a negative sentiment in the world against tourists, but I root for anyone who is willing to travel and see beautiful, historical sites. I wish my own community in California had more tourists - they help the economy, give your city pressure to keep clean, and it's fun to meet people from all over the world.)

The point I'm trying to make though is I don't blame people for wanting to go see New Orleans. I blame those who have capitalized on its success and emptied out anything unique about it to be like everywhere else, because that guarantees them a safe revenue and makes them money. I went to shops and saw bars there that I could have gone to anywhere else in the U.S., I saw many people begging for money on the streets in hopes of guilting those on vacation, and I felt unwanted and scammed for most of my trip.

For most of my time there, my sentiment turned into that other than the way the city looks, there's nothing special about New Orleans; however, one place opened my eyes to see more depth to the area.

"Muriel's Jackson Square" was a restaurant my husband found for us to go to a few blocks from our hotel. Going in there, I got the culture from New Orleans I'd been waiting for. The decor was like a time capsule, and everything was old fashioned and stunning. The biggest highlight though was the staff. New Orleans locals who lived in and loved the city. They were so friendly, and really opened up to us about their lives and experiences. I've worked similar jobs, so it felt nice to click with the service, and hear about their daily lives in the city, especially hearing about the differences from the local parts of New Orleans, to the touristy areas. They wanted to hear about where we were from, and it was just nice to be around and converse with positive people.

The food was also amazing there. I got served a three course meal, and it was some big courses. People in the south don't shy away from good food and large portions. I also had a drink there I loved, called the Witches Brew. It was amazing, coffee and alcohol mixed, although I can't find it on their current menu today. I don't think I've had a better restaurant experience before going there.

The staff told us to go upstairs and see how it was decorated. I took pictures of it, and it's just something you'll have to see. The best I can describe is they represented the past uses for this building throughout the upstairs. They acknowledge its past, and wanted to show it off as part of its present. I felt that was an amazing jewel on top of this sparkling restaurant. I may also be getting some areas messed up or confused. It has been a few years since I've visited.

My husband and I ate in "The Bistro," which is where the main restaurant's indoor seating is. This table was isolated right before we went up the stairs. It's how most of the restaurant was decorated, and being a singular table made it look very private and cozy.

I passed by this room, which looked to be a private event room. It's called "The Plantation" on their website. The restaurant's website says they want to hold up the history and culture of the past, and this room exemplifies that. 

Here's a photo from the balcony of the second story. The nighttime streets of New Orleans were glimmering from up here. I also thought now would be a good time to go into the extensive history of Muriel's building's many past uses. 

In 1718 when the City was first founded, Claude Trepagnier built a small cottage which was the first building on the land that's now Muriel's Jackson Square. Sometime in the mid 1700's, the plot was bought and the cottage was torn down. In its place, an elegant home was built by Jean Baptiste Destrehan. It included everything from a drawing room to a full ballroom, all filled with rich furnishings and decor from Paris. The house was passed down to Jean's son, but after financial burden hit the family it was sold to Pierre Phillipe de Marigny in 1776. After being under new ownership, in 1788 a city-wide fire swept through the French Quarter and the home was badly damaged as a result. Pierre Phillipe de Marigny sold the burnt up remains to Pierre Antoine Lepardi Jourdan. It was restored afterwards, and was brought back to a mixture of it's old glory, with new structuring to let the house stand tall again. There's even charred beams and boards that were found when modern-day renovations were being done. The house remained prominent throughout the early 1800's, up until the Civil War. At that point, it was owned by Julien Poydras, the President of the Louisiana State Senate, who kept it lavish with fine interior styling. 

This building was right across the street from Muriel's, I could see it directly in front of me from the balcony. You can see the very French looking styles of all structures in this area. Jackson Square was designed around the cathedral I took a photo of earlier. It was all meant to be based on French design from the original city planners. 

The house was continually owned by the Poydras family throughout the Civil War. It was sold in 1881 to Theodore Leveau, after economic issues plagued the once-wealthy family who resided in the French Quarter. In 1891, the home was bought by a businessman named Peter Lipari, who was the first to open it up as a commercial property. During this era, it was two separate businesses in the same building - a restaurant named Hill's and a bar known as "The Alec Lanlois Saloon." After this, the building was sold to a man named Frank Taormina in 1916. He turned it into a pasta manufacturer with a grocery store on the lower floor. In this time, it transitioned to become a restaurant called "The Spaghetti Factory." Between 1974 and 2000, the building became a Chart House Restaurant, which was even home to "The Heritage Hall Jazz Band" for several years in the 70's. After purchasing and renovating the building to its former glory, Muriel's Jackson Square was opened in March 2001. This renovation and re-opening was integral to revitalizing the French Quarter of New Orleans, which is now known as a National Historic Park.

While it looks like this is for show, this is actually a room you can book. "The Wine Room" is what it's called, and it can even be gated for a private event. It looked very classy to me as I walked by it.

This is the part of the upstairs known as the Seance Lounge. It has pieces in it to play tribute to the French Quarter, as well as historical items from the building itself. Anything that doesn't match those two themes is meant to make the atmosphere deeper, and more welcoming to the undead, and those exploring to find them. On their site, this is the area where the ghosts of the building mingle in.  

Another angle - plus this was my first peak into the lounge. At first I couldn't believe I was seeing a sarcophagus in a New Orleans restaurant. When I realized what it was, I couldn't wait to go inside. Ancient Egypt has always been a fascination of mine, and the room was dark and eerie looking into it. 

Decor in the Seance Lounge. 

There's no evidence of this, but I'm willing to guess that this is the Heritage Hall Jazz band that played in the building during the 70's.

The opposite side from the Egyptian decor. I did zoom in on the some interesting pieces from this lounge, and those pictures are coming up. You can see why people hypothesize that spirits gather in this area. The red theme is dark, and there's a lot of antique, historical pieces to attract more entities. It must feel like home to them.

Guest like to sit here and see if they can attract any sort of spirit. The most prevalent ghost who remains here is Pierre Antoine Lepardi Jourdan. He was the owner who bought the property from Pierre Phillipe de Marigny after the fire hit. A portion I didn't put in my history section is the Pierre Antoine Lepardi Jourdan absolutely loved this house. He put his heart and soul into restoring the home to its former glory, while adding personal cosmetic touches to match him and his family too. 

Unfortunately, in 1814, Pierre Jourdan became so confident in his gambling ability, that he staked his house deed into the deal. He lost, and he was agonized that he had bet and lost his house, where he had put so much care into. It has been his labor of love, and because of his wager of his home in poker, he lost it. 

The shock didn't leave Pierre Jourdan, and he couldn't handle the reality that he had to leave his home. He decided to take his life in the second story of the house - in the area where the Seance Lounge lives today. 

Pierre Jourdan is said to be seen, felt, and heard in this area the most. It's said he appears as a shimmering light to guest and workers. Glasses have also been witnessed to get thrown from the bar to the brick wall twelve feet away.

However, those at Muriel's do not believe Pierre Jourdan is the only entity to roam this land. They believe servants may have stayed behind with Pierre, to help look after the grounds. Another accepted idea is that the Seance Lounge not only attracts spirits who have ties to this property, but also entities who roam throughout the French Quarter. It's thought that they're enticed to join the Seance Lounge's ambiance, like the environment itself calls the spirits of the area to come and stay in a place that welcomes them home. 

In my time exploring the rooms of this building, the Seance Lounge did feel the most sinister to me, even though the staff claim the spirits are friendly. Maybe it was the deep maroon, scarlet, and red tones everywhere. Maybe it was all of the timeless history put into the space. Maybe it was the energy I could feel of all of the people calling out to attract the spirits. Or maybe it was actually feeling the spirit's who roam around in this lounge. Either way, it was the last room I got to go through, and it's left a lasting impression on me to this day.

My husband and I walked back to our hotel after the meal. It was late, and the streets were almost empty. There was something a little more beautiful, and chilling, about New Orleans in this walk. I imagined all of the history that only one building I coincidentally gone in had, and realized the every nook and cranny of the city is filled with a riveting past. No matter how the French Quarter runs today, it has a unique story behind each and every building in the area. 

In this walk, the city was falling asleep. The streetlights were glowing, the stores were closing, and the day's hustle and bustle had finally settled down. I imagined all of the people and their stories who have ever walked these ancient streets, and wondered how many of them loved the area so much that they decided to stay in New Orleans forever.  

This New Orleans felt right, it felt like the New Orleans I had come here to see. I realized that this New Orleans would never die. Muriel's Jackson Square opened my eyes, and it made me realize that the flourishing history of the city is the ruby gem that's the beating heart of New Orleans. It's like a deep current of what looks to be a lazy river. It's always flowing, even if we can't see it. The past residents, their passion for this area, and stories behind the city's architecture and design are all hidden gems. They represent the foundation that makes New Orleans so special, and just like the entities who have stayed in the city, these gems will always be here too.