by Forrest Preece
Since it’s Halloween month, I have been searching around for some spooky tales. By sheer luck, I saw a piece about Janelle Buchanan’s home, and I asked her to elaborate on its friendly ghost.
Janelle, who is one of Austin’s most renowned actresses, lives in a historic home with her husband, Ted Siff, near the former Pease Elementary School. The original part of their house was built in 1858. Here is her story.
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I’m sure some past residents died here. It’s clear – to me, anyway – that we share the house with a spirit I call Tillie. She is a poltergeist in the best sense of the word – tricky and mischievous, never mean or threatening. Things disappear, then reappear a day or two later in a spot that was thoroughly searched; once, my engagement ring went missing, then turned up on the kitchen island the morning of our anniversary. When the ground was broken for the addition to our house, workmen found a belt buckle, a couple of horseshoes, and a little china doll’s head. I wonder if it belonged to Tillie’s doll?
I had a bag of old coins, most dating to the beginning of the 20th century, and some as far back as the Civil War, tucked away in a (locked) storage shed behind our house. I went out one morning to get something out of the shed, and the bag was neatly placed on the lawnmower. I put it back where it belonged. The next day, it was back on the lawn mower.
Our house has a double fireplace -- one hearth in the living room and one in the room to the east that is now Ted's office. We have faux candles in both because the fireplace is so old that, even though we've had it cleaned and checked, we're not comfortable about using it. The candles are there for decoration. One morning I went into the office and all eight had been switched on and were glowing merrily. I turned them off. A couple of hours later, they were on. I turned them off again and they stayed off.
I went downstairs late one night -- heard a noise, heard a cat, something? On the south living room wall there was a little green light dancing. About the size of a dime, sort of like one of those laser pens you can use to play with cats, only green. I watched it for a minute or so, then it winked out. No traffic on the street, no sign outside of anything that might cast a light like that.
One night I was cooking dinner and turned my attention from the counter to the stove. When I turned back to the counter, there was a little piece of burnt material -- maybe wood, maybe a root? -- about two inches long on a plate on the counter. It certainly hadn't been there before. I didn't put it there, and no one else was in the house.
And, of course, the occasional disappeared object that reappears in a few days.
Again, I've never felt any ill will from Tillie. We've come to accept that she was here first and likes to remind us that she's still around. I've had two people mention to me that they feel a presence here, but that it is not malevolent and that the house feels, in fact, peaceful. These were not friends I'd talked to about Tillie; they were total strangers who happened to be in the house for one reason or another.
So there you have it. I'm sure many people would find logical explanations for all these phenomena, and they might be right. Or not.
Me, I'm with Hamlet: "There are more things in heaven and earth, Horatio, than are dreamt of in your philosophy."
