The Bellamy Mansion

Let's get back to business...where were we?  Ah yes, a storm was brewing in Wilmington, NC.  Before the storm actually brewed, I walked the perimeter of the town, pretty much, and saw this weird stuff:

Bird Condominium

Key-Fence

Where's the lock, Waldo?  

..and drank about three cups of pink lemonade, so a stop was made here:

...a museum that is not advertised as creepy, but look at the friggin' sign.  And it's not those apartments in the background, but this:

El Creepo!

The place was closing up in like, 15, and a thunderstorm was making its way to us.  But the nice curator said: "throw a few bucks in the donation box and I'll let you roam around the house and slave quarters..."  Slave quarters?  Oh I forgot, we're in the south.  He insisted we watch a long-ass video first though, to 'understand what it's all about', which honestly didn't interest myself, John, or Lynne, but Hailey seemed pretty into it so we endured.

I asked him if the place was haunted, and he said, "Well...we don't talk about that, out of respect for the Bellamy family because some of them are still alive - you know.. but there have been some strange occurrences."  JACKPOT!

Slave quarters were first.  They were stifling hot...one could only imagine what it was like living in this brick house, one room deep and three wide, with nine other people...

Ye Olde Fire Extinguisher!

....and a friggin' outhouse on the bottom floor.  Bet it smelled LOV-ely in the North Carolina summers.  Inside the outhouse there was writing on the wall from when the slaves were freed (they were not allowed to write during enslavement).  I thought this was cool, and took a terrible picture while trying not to drop my android down a toilet:

We went into the mansion.  The curator was locking up behind us, as we were the only ones in the house.  It was extremely quiet and dark.  According to Lynne's information (and the World Wide Web), the place definitely is considered a Wilmington haunted house, with adults and children often seen peeking out of the curtains from the outside:

 A man in a black suit has been seen on the inside many times by late-night volunteers, and a wheelchair that belonged to Ellen Bellamy does not like to be moved, winding up in the same part of the house.  There are reports of laughing, as well.

The basement and first floors were okay...unless...do you see anything funny?

Orbs?  One Orb?  Can you give me that?

(nice except for this hole-to-nowhere that John tried to push me in)

The wheelchair!

...but as we kept rising......the house definitely took on a dark, stifling, uncomfortable character.

Hailey (14 mths at the time) said "hello" quietly at the top of each staircase, as we got to the next floor.  Who was she greeting??  The house was empty!

Third floor: dark and ominous.

This room held another rocker-wheelchair-type of deal.   As John stepped in, the floor creaked, but in a different part of the room.  Strange old floorboards?  Or GHOST ACTIVITY??

Views from the cupola...children have been seen looking out of this small, attic turret.  No handprints, I checked!

As creepster as this place was, we didn't see anything unusual...sorry guys, you'll never get this four minutes back, haha.  It was terribly lucky to come at closing and be allowed to wander around alone, as an approaching swell darkened the sky and thunder growled outside...how could we not see a ghost in these circumstances??  ANSWER:  I repel the supernatural.  No just kidding!  (Not kidding.)  Keep reading my blog.

The curator told us afterwards that although the third floor is dark, hot, and sinister, apparitions and things are most often seen from the second floor (the bright, pretty one).  His personal experiences happened in the basement ("where most of the living was done"), and he believes the kitchen is the most haunted:

The curator spent a night here in the kitchen, coincidentally on his birthday (same as one of the Bellamy's), and he claims a ghost lifted him to one side in the night and tucked him back in his sleeping bag.  Aw, how sweet!  I get the make-your-stomach-hurt and rifle-through-your-things ghosts of New Orleans.  Stay tuned.

~A

P.S. We picked up some fresh chocolate-peanut butter-milkshakes for the ride home..holy MOO cow delicious!!  There's your Spooks and your Food, have a nice day.