Seeing the house itself is amazing. It sets the whole murder/history in such different perspective. The rooms are smaller than I thought, and the house is so *tightly arranged* --- nary a spare space anywhere. It has made me seriously doubt my prior conviction that Lizzie didn't do it.
We arrived Friday, June 8. Oddly enough, we were the only guests that night --- so it was just us and Shelley. My niece (Lauren) is adamently convinced that Lizzie did it, and tends to call Lizzie a brat and a psycho killer --- but --- when we sat on the bed in Lizzie's room, Lauren started the most obvious boot-licking (*Ohhhhh poor Lizzie, what you went through! Ohhhhhh Lizzie, I am so sorry people said you did this....ohhhhhh, no one really understood you and that is so sad!* ) in hopes that Lizzie's ghost would be pleased and leave us alone--lol.
Anyway, we watched the Elizabeth Montgomery film, had half the tour, went to dinner (by the way, I think we need to make dinner part of the whole package...including lime rickey's), and looked around town. Lauren was spooked (OK, I was too) and we asked to have the rest of the tour on Saturday (in the daylight). Shelley graciously agreed to this and we set off to bed.
Lauren and I had the Lizzie and Emma suite, but we both slept in Emma's room---we left the light on in Lizzie's room and put our luggage in there (yeah --- we were really spooked and neither would let the other out of sight). I had wanted to take photos at 3am (the witching hour) --- but the batteries in my camera mysteriously drained to empty in the house.
We scooted into Emma's bed (the Bible close by) and both tried to think of happy, peaceful things. Lauren (who sleeps anywhere at the drop of a hat) zonked out ---but told me later that she heard the famous ghost cat meowing. I was bug-eyed-awake. I heard lots of groans (not my own, I swear) and metallic sounding scrapes. I also heard *bumps in the night*. The most vivid thing I heard, though, was a series of sounds--- like you'd get if you wadded a sheet of paper and tossed it on the floor--- 3 or 4 in a row, then a pause, then 3 or 4 in a row again. I had the distinct impression that they were paced as steps that came into the room and went out of the room... and in my mind, I thought of the cat pitter-pattering.
Shelley can attest to the fact that I only had 1 lime rickey at dinner (and she and my niece had none).
I dozed at some point, and awoke at 5:30, unable to sleep further. I got out the books I'd gotten along the way and looked around. What on earth happened in that house? How could Lizzie have no knowledge of what happened? I am more baffled than ever.
On Saturday, we finished the tour and found an old, bloody hatchet --- just kidding. We had a wonderful breakfast (thanks Dave!!!) and a tour of the town and cemetary. We even saw the grave of Ms. Churchill, bless her. Lauren will have to help me with photos, I am so techno-unsavvy.
Shelley is a blessing, and was such a great guide. She really went above and beyond and we were both so lucky to have met her!
To anyone contemplating a trip to the house---- I encourage you to do it! It is amazing, and makes the mystery so much more real and astounding.
I hope the groans and moans you heard in the night were the real thing and not just me snoring on the other side of the wall! There's nothing like the first visit- looking forward to seeing your photos soon.
