Day 1 Chasing After Life Tour *NOT A CLASS POST

Soldier Boy

Pere Cheney Cemetery

*EVP’s, pics, and the like to be uploaded as soon as we can get them onto the computer


We pulled in to Pere Cheney cemetery around 10pm. I should say that we didn’t know at the time but found out later that the cemetery closes at dusk. When we arrived, there was no one else there. Our plan was to find the Pere Cheney “Witch” who, we’d read, was hung from an oak tree in the cemetery and then buried at the base of it. After her death, two rounds of cholera wiped out the population and thus, the legend was made. The witch had cursed the town. How did they know when they hung her that she was a witch? Well, my friends, it’s simple: she had a baby out of wedlock. Hang the whore!

So, we went with the intention to find the tree and have a drink with our sister and to assure her that we’d done the same in our own lives. We found a large oak immediately and beelined there. But there were no hits on our EMF meter and we got no EVPs. At that point, we sat and had a drink beneath the tree, pouring some for her. There were no weird feelings, no “creepiness”. We both agreed that we felt very peaceful and calm. Nothing to be afraid of.

Then the teenagers came. Giggling and staggering around the cemetery the made their way to the woods beyond to do whatever it is millennials do these days. Having had no luck with the witch, we meandered through looking at the few stones still intact. As we neared the corner of the cemetery, we caught “Hey” on the EVP twice in a row. (We didn’t know that at the time). Wandering to the far edge of the graveyard, we got a hit on the EMF.

“Is someone here with us?” I asked.

The lights flashed.

“Are you a female?”


“Are you a male?”

The lights flashed.

“Did you die here?”




“A long time ago?”


“Do you how long it’s been?”


“Was it a violent death?”


“Were you in the war?”

The lights flashed.

“Thank you for your service.”

“Did you get to come home?

“Did your body come home?”

“Were you with your family when you died?”

“Were you alone?”

“Are you still with us?”

“Do you want us to leave?”

It seemed to us that perhaps he didn’t realize he was dead and our questions upset or confused him. On that EVP recorder, Near the end, when we are asking if he is still with us, there is a strange scratching or dragging sound. We thought perhaps he left to go back to his grave or moved on.


We started across the cemetery when we got another hit on the EMF. We stopped and tried to talk to the soldier again, but nothing. We continued. We then came to an intact stone with the names of three children who had died in December 1893. Coming up to the stone, we caught some EVPs. We thought the EVP voice said “Patty” but when we had a look at the stone, it said “Hattie”. Neither one of us had seen the stone prior to this so we know it wasn’t our voices.

Here, we spent some time with the children. Trying to get them to interact via the EMF recorder. But nothing happened. We noticed someone had painted a lovely picture and left it by the grave. So, Kim, my partner in crime, had a piece of green slag she’d picked up at a ghost town in the U.P. and asked if the kids would like a rock. She laid it down on the headstone. The EMF perked up. We heard the words “green glass” on the EVP as if the kids (being normal kids) were letting us know that they knew very well it wasn’t a rock, it was a chunk of green glass.

The kids did not speak to us in the same way the soldier did. They responded with blips on the EMF meter when we gave them presents and a hug. (we left another rock shaped like a heart and hugged the tombstone).

The final EVP on our recording said “turn around.” Which at that point we did, heading towards our car. We said goodnight to the cemetery and headed home feeling peaceful and unafraid.


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