In a previous blog entry, I wrote about how Mary Ann Winkowski (the real-life inspiration behind the CBS television show The Ghost Whisperer) came to our house to communicate with our resident spirits. The purpose behind this house call was to demonstrate her abilities to the new writing staff of the show and since she successfully cleared creator John Gray’s New York home of spectral visitors, as well as Jennifer Love Hewitt’s home, Teddy immediately volunteered our home. For a complete backstory of the odd occurrences in our home, read the previous post.

A studio van full of Teddy’s co-workers - writers, PR people, cameraman and journalist crowded into our living room as Mary Ann attempted to communicate with the ghost allegedly standing in my kitchen - next to all my knives! Writer Shelley Levitt, from Watch Magazine covered the story and here is an excerpt from the article, “That’s The Spirit” which was published in December. Unfortunately, the story’s not available online, so I’m retyping the excerpt here without the photos of my living room.

Excerpted from That’s the Spirit by Shelley Levitt (Watch! magazine, Dec. 2007 issue)

Who You Gonna Call?

It’s time for the next stop on the day’s real-life ghostbusting circuit - in a typical workday Winkowski makes three house calls - the Sherman Oaks home, just a few miles away, that writer Teddy Tenenbaum shared with his wife, Minsun Park, and their two young sons. In the past few months, smoke alarms have been going off in the middle of the night even though the batteries have been removed, and the couple has awoken to find the double doors that open to the backyard blown open. Tenenbaum suspected a ghost, and Winkowski, who can do spirit detection over the phone, has already confirmed he’s right.

“Ghosts are everywhere,” she says on the drive over to Tenenbaum’s home. There were six or seven on the flight from Cleveland to Los Angeles, She sees them hanging around trash bins in movie theaters, roaming the tree-lined streets of her neighborhood, lounging in bookstores.

Standing in Tenenbaum’s sunny living room, with the playthings of a 6-year-old and a 6-month-old strewn about, Winkowski feels something is amiss. “There she is,” Winkowki says softly after a few moments spent standing absolutely still. Slowly the spirit shares her secret; it’s a grisly one. Her name is Shirley Bridgeford. She was 25 in 1958, trying to make it in L.A. as a model, when she met a man who said he was a photographer and wanted to take pictures of her. They drove to the desert east of San Diego, where he bound and gagged her, keeping her alive through the night before strangling her in the morning. His name was Harvey Glatman. Bridgeford wants to cross over, but she’s afraid that if she does, she’ll see her killer again.

“I’ve just told her he’s not in the place where she’s going,” says Winkowski. “I’m making some white light now, which will be a portal to the other side.” Her audience is rapt, staring in the same direction as Winkowski, watching for a sign. A moment later Winkowski reports, “She’s made it over.” Winkowski laughs, and then adds, “I hope you’re not disappointed that I didn’t twitch and jump and scream.”

The drama will come later.

FACT OR FICTION?

A Google search reveals that Harvey Glatman was a notorious killer, Shirley Bridgeford the second of his three victims, choked to death with a rope in March 1958. Glatman was executed in the gas chamber of San Quentin a year later.

Before leaving, Winkowski gives Tenenbaum and Park a package of quince seeds with the instructions to tape on seed over each doorway. These will keep any other earthbound spirits from entering the house including a “part-time” ghost who sometimes kept Bridgeford company. “If the spirit is upset that he can’t get back into the house, he might cause some commotion,” Winkowski says.

Around 9 that night, the part-time ghost returns, and the couple hears what sounds like someone walking across their rock-covered roof. “We have possum, raccoons and skunks up here, so I don’t even pay attention to those noises anymore,” Park recalls a few weeks later. But the sound kept escalating, “like rocks were raining on the roof,” Park continues. “It got so loud that Teddy and I had to shout to hear each other.” Then Park saw something slide down a window and out of sight. “I didn’t get a good look at whatever it was,” she says, “I just had an impression of something beige and formless. As soon as it disappeared, the noises abruptly stopped. I felt the hairs on my arms stand on end.”

Since that night, no windows or doors have clanged; no smoke detectors have gone off. Tenenbaum and Park sleep undisturbed through the night. And Shirley Bridgeford, presumably, has found the peace she deserves.

Incredibly enough, the only gross exaggeration and factual inaccuracy that I can quibble with in this article was the sentence “Tenenbaum and Park sleep undisturbed through the night.” As the parents of two young children, the preposterousness of that statement, caused coffee to come shooting straight out of my nose (ow, that stings!).

Seriously though, I have my doubts and skeptical questions. The experience only provoked more questions that will never be answered. I googled Harvey Glatman and Shirley Bridgeford and corroborated all the info Winkowski provided, along with some morbid photographs on several true crime websites such as this one at CrimeLibrary.com. Unfortunately, it’s this ease of obtaining information online that makes me wonder if her computer savvy surpasses her psychic abilities. But it’s pointless to even ponder because there is no way of proving or disproving…anything. Do I or did I truly have an earthbound spirit in my house? Even if I did, was she truly Shirley Bridgeford?

Winkowski impressed me as very genuine and salt of the earth. The very picture of a Midwestern homemaker without a whiff of New Agey mysticism. Of course, she had every motivation in the world to lie, fabricate and exaggerate. However, this doesn’t explain the one thing that matters in the end: results. Whatever she said, whatever she did yielded real results. I’m no longer disturbed by fire alarms beeping in the middle of the night, my double doors don’t slam open anymore and rather than dwell on unanswerable metaphysical mysteries that wiser people than I have been unable to penetrate, I’m going to enjoy the silence.

Here’s a link about a feline grim reaper named Oscar who lives in a hospice. Apparently, he demonstrates the uncanny ability of knowing which patient is going to die within four hours and cuddles up next to them. According to the story, he’s not an affectionate cat, so when he gets cozy with you, he means business. So far he’s predicted 25 deaths.

Are you f***ing kidding me? I like cats and all, but this sounds like the hospice from hell. I thought the point of animals companionship was that they were proven stress reducers? Petting animals supposedly lowers your blood pressure, boosts immunity, yada yada yada. Yet what could be more ominous and nightmarish for these poor patients then knowing that Death Cat was patrolling the halls all night? I’d have a freaking coronary if I saw that furry little freak poke its head into my room in the middle of the night and God, forbid, jump on my bed to cuddle.  No wonder everybody dies after that cat pays them a little visit. Duh! I know this was an attempt at a feel-good, human interest story, but it devolved into something creepy, unsettling and ominously Stephen King-esque.

My husband is a writer on the CBS show The Ghost Whisperer (try saying that five times). Most people don’t know that this show is based on the real life “ghost whisperer” Mary Ann Winkowski. Not only is she the inspiration for the show, she is a creative consultant and she comes to Los Angeles a few times a year to visit the production offices and demonstrate her dead people seeing abilities to the staff. She’s renowned for her ability to “clear houses” of unwanted spiritual entities, and my dh immediately volunteered our house (after consulting with me).

So this afternoon, Ms. Winkowski, the entire writing staff of The Ghost Whisperer, their assistants and an news reporter and cameraman will be descending on my house to communicate with our resident ghost(s).

According to Winkowski, we have two — Read the rest of this entry »