The story concerns a young woman bored by her job, her life, and everything, who is finally driven to madness when she rambles through Prospect Park’s eponymous meadow one shady twilit evening…

NETHERMEAD TRAILER from Soren Bailey on Vimeo.

Want to know how it ends? Contact me to inquire about viewing the rest of the film, or buy my book to see what happens!

When April comes, I begin to think of the Titanic. The tragic maritime disaster with its ghostly whiff of unfinished business, why, it just inflames my imagination, let me tell you. And living in New York City, we have something of a special claim to the story — along with Belfast, Southampton, and Halifax, New York is one of the cities most associated with the craft.

Our city has its share of Titanic memorials – the lighthouse at the South Street Seaport, and a touching memorial to Ida and Isidor Strauss on 106th Street – as well as some of its ghosts. Most famously, the Jane Street hotel is rumored to be haunted by the spirits of the ship’s survivors. But what of the site of the sinking? Can the sea itself be haunted?

This is an interesting question for ghost-hunters. The ocean is filled with wrecks and the bodies of doomed sailors and passengers. Based on that fact alone, the earth’s waters should be one of the most haunted places in existence. Think of all the perished souls who died abruptly and violently and never had a proper burial – supposedly the first set of criteria for creating ghosts. Logically speaking, there ought to be dozens of ghost ships circumnavigating the seas at any given time.

And there are indeed very many famous ghost ships. The Flying Dutchman, of course, is the best known. The Dutchman legend has been floating around (if you will) since the 17th century. The ship is said to be doomed never to enter port and to sail ‘round the world forever. To sight its glowing hull and masts is said to portend doom, and those who see it will never walk ashore again. The origins of the story are unclear, but some have tried to explain it scientifically, saying it’s an optical illusion caused by light refraction, which may be how the legend began. However the story first got started, it has been repeated throughout the centuries, and has been adapted in literature and film, most notably in Coleridge’s Rime of the Ancient Mariner, which tells tale of a ghost ship, and in Edgar Allan Poe’s MS. Found in a Bottle, in which a shipwreck survivor finds himself on a ship with a lifeless crew.

As for the Titanic itself, have there been any ghost sightings spotted near the rusting hull, three hundred miles out to sea? Incredibly, the answer is yes. Ships passing by the site, which is off the coast of Newfoundland, have actually reported seeing orbs. Orbs, as any ghost hunter can tell you, are little balls of light-energy signifying supernatural presence. Multiple orbs have been spotted hovering near the Titanic site, on more than one occasion. Furthermore, submarines sailing near the site have reported hearing strange signals and interference on their radios, including SOS messages that have no verifiable source. (On an interesting side note, the Titanic was among the first vessels to use the distress signal SOS, which was new at the time. It used it interchangeably with CQD – come quick, danger – which was the old signal. Neither, of course, helped matters.) Finally, in 1977, Second Office Leonard Bishop of the SS Winterhaven gave one of his passengers a tour of his ship. The passenger was soft-spoken, had a British accent, and was unusually attentive to detail. Something about the man struck Bishop as odd, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what seemed out of place. A few years later, someone showed him a picture of Captain Edward J. Smith, and Bishop said, “I know that man, I gave him a tour of my boat.” His companion laughed and said, “Impossible! That man was the captain of the Titanic.”

Want more maritime ghost stories? Check out our tour From Captain Kidd to the Titanic: Maritime Ghosts of Old New York.

Cool! The South Slope News just called my Green-Wood tour “brilliant!” Truthfully, 50% of this brilliance comes from the fact that the $20 fee includes a burger and beer from the Sea Witch Tavern! There is a tour-only option available for those who don’t wish the burger and beer, at $10.

I’ll be leading a group through some of the more hidden gems of Green-Wood on Sunday, April 7, at 3pm. We’ll explore the sights of Green-Wood that aren’t listed on the map, with a focus on the scandalous and lesser-known inhabitants of Green-Wood, including the final resting places of femmes fatales, revolutionaries, gangsters, artists and murderers!

Space is limited, so sign up at the Sea Witch bar (703 5th Ave) or by email at seawitchnyc@gmail.com, or simply buy advance tickets here (note: tickets purchased through this site will default to $20).

Next Wednesday, April 3rd, I’ll be co-hosting (along with Gordon Linzner) a night of readings of classical and contemporary ghost stories, with special guests Jack Ketchum and Terry McGarry. Ketchum and McGarry are renowned horror/SF writers, and this is an amazing chance to see them together! So, to paraphrase Lord Dunsany, come with me ladies and gentlemen who are in any wise weary of New York,  “Come with me, and those that tire at all of the world we know: for we have new worlds here.”

Readings will take place at the SoHo Gallery for Digital Art. Doors open 6:30pm. $5 donation requested. For more information, check out our Facebook page.

In any case, I’m glad they did, because the Eagle’s archives are chock-full of incredible Brooklyn ghost stories, including our Ghost of Red Hook Lane! (Click any of the images below to see the full article.)

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 14, 1887

This is a good one — a classic, bell-ringing ghost haunts a school principal and his wife in their Stuyvesant Heights home. The article describes the ghost and goes on to say, “His remaining tricks were of the ancestral castle type: hollow groans, creepy sidesteps on the staircase and unexpected trips from room to room by articles of furniture.”

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, October 23, 1901

This next one is fantastic: a ghost wandering around Flatbush looking for his lost hand! Apparently it was the wife of a German immigrant who once inhabited this wood-frame cottage at East Broadway and Nostrand Avenue; the man, Krug, killed her and buried her in the basement, where the skeleton of her hand was found, its finger still encircled by a wedding ring.

Brooklyn Daily Eagle, April 20, 1896.

But one of the most famous ghost stories in Brooklyn is that of Melrose Hall.

According to the Eagle, Melrose Hall, built in 1749, was “the quaintest and queerest old place one could imagine,” with “steep roofs slanted in all directions and gables projected here and there in the oddest sort of way.” It was located where Bedford Avenue is now, between Winthrop Street and Clarkson Avenue, in Flatbush.

The house was even creepier inside, with “dark corridors, oddly shaped rooms, winding stairways, black holes, mysterious trap doors, and other unprecendented features.”

It also contained a secret chamber.

In the early 1800s, a British colonel and loyalist named William Axtell bought the place and moved in there with his fiancee. His fiancee was educated, graceful and beautiful, but she was not the one Axtell loved — alas, he was in love with her sister, Alva. He simply couldn’t bear to be without her, and so he did what any man would do: built a secret chamber in his house and hid her away in there. Only one other person knew Alva was there: the slave woman who took care of her and brought her food. Alva would wait all day until the Colonel could slip away, and then he’d visit her upstairs in the chamber.

One day, when the Colonel was away on an extended business trip, the slave woman died. There was no one to bring Alva food or drink, and so she starved to death in her locked chamber.

The house was later purchased by Anna Carla Mowatt, an actress, who learned of the story of Alva, and wrote about it in her 18654 memoir, The Autobiography of an Actress. She affirmed that “a young girl had been purposely starved to death in that chamber and that her ghost wandered at night around the house.”

Nowadays, blocks of apartment houses inhabit the former site of Melrose Hall. I wonder if any residents in that area have ever heard or seen anything strange…

According to Henry Reed Stiles’ 1869 history of Brooklyn, the following event transpired one night in the 1820s, in a rowdy little tavern on Red Hook Lane:

“One evening at around 11 p.m., the men at the converted tavern discovered they had run out of brandy.  To replenish their supply, somebody needed only to run down Red Hook Lane to the Brooklyn ferry and retrieve more.

Less than a half-mile walk, of course, but one that passed by an old ruined fort (Cobbleshill Fort), approximately near the intersection of today’s Court and Pacific streets.  Sitting near to the fort was “a ghost-haunted spot,” a frightening, decrepit place well-known to locals, ‘about which dreadful stories are whispered, which lent wings to the feet of such unwary village urchins as chanced to pass it after dark.’

Nobody wanted to admit they were frightened to venture out alone, and yet despite their incredible thirst, nobody volunteered for the task.  Finally, a man named Boerum, thirsty and bold, declared he would head to the ferry and retrieve the brandy.”

Two hours later, when Boerum still had not returned, his friends ventured forth into the night, all a-tremble with terror and trepidation:

“Mounting, not in hot haste, they turned their horses’ heads towards the village and on approaching the haunted ground, they found Boerum’s horse standing against the fence not far from the house, and when they reach the spot itself, their companion was discovered lying senseless on the road, with features horribly distorted.”

Boerum died a few days later, still speechless, and to this day nobody knows how he perished. Did he see the ghost and die of fright? Or did he come across something still more sinister?

We cannot say. But you can still visit Red Hook Lane, a tiny alley in Cobble Hill, just off Fulton Street, and see if the spirits will tell you anything.

Read the rest of the Bowery Boys blog post here.

Joan Aiken’s “As Gay As Cheese” from The Far Forests: Tales of Romance, Fantasy, and Suspense (1977), concerns a Cornish barber named Mr. Pol who has the uncanny ability to foretell a person’s death merely by running his hands through their hair. He rents the room above his rickety shop to a surly artist who panders to the tourist trade with seascape watercolors. Mr. Pol is an untroubled, fatalistic soul, the very embodiment of equanimity, accepting his strange gift as just one of those things. He whistles cheerfully and speaks in homely cliches as he cuts hair, sweeps floors, and putters around the shop: “I’m as bright as a pearl this morning,” he’ll say, or, “I’m as gay as cheese today.”

One morning a young couple, summer visitors, comes into the shop. Brian is an emotionally abusive bastard who strides in demanding a shave while ordering Mr. Pol to give Fanny a haircut (“You look like a Scotch terrier,” he says to her); Fanny is a scared and gentle fawn of a woman. Throughout, Brian is very anxious to take a certain cliff walk to Pengelly. In fact, he seems extremely focused on this.

As Mr. Pol cuts Fanny’s hair, he feels a shudder run through him like an electric shock… and I can’t say much more.

Without giving it away, I can tell you that the story ends with the surly artist running downstairs too late to sell a painting to Brian and Fanny. He notices Mr. Pol’s pallid face as the barber stares after the departing couple. “What’s the matter?” he asks. “Nothing,” Mr. Pol says. “I’m as gay as cheese.”

I love this story because it says so much while stating so little. With only a few comments and pointed insults, we are given full understanding of Brian’s character; Fanny’s frightened reactions sketch in the rest.

We are given two layers of terror here: that of poor frightened Fanny/violent Brian — the violent spouse trope effectively used in horror stories as varied as The Shining and Bluebeard — and that of Mr. Pol, who can only watch, but cannot act. For Mr. Pol knows he is powerless to stop what happens; his powers do not grant him the right to intervene, and he must quietly let life — and death — run its course, as a river runs to the sea.

First, and most obviously, I’ve updated the look of the site. The present theme has a pleasantly old-fashioned look, one wonderfully reminiscent of Charlotte Perkins Gilman’s The Yellow Wallpaper. Second, I’ve realized that Boroughs of the Dead is so much more than just a book. After nearly two years of running ghost tours for another company, I’ve come to realize that I want to also run tours of my own — not ghost walks necessarily, but tours that celebrate all things dark and macabre about New York. Naturally, the tours have a historical bent, from Edgar Allan Poe’s Gaslight New York, to the scandals of the Gilded Age. Check out all the new offers over on the Walking Tours page. In the meantime, I’m continuing to run tours with Ghosts of New York, and will still list those public tours on this site, and I’m also partnering with a bar in my neighborhood, the Sea Witch, to run tours in Green-Wood Cemetery. Pretty exciting times, for a dead borough.

Boroughs of the Dead, of course, is still the same book it always was, and is still for sale (very much for sale!) over here. That hasn’t changed.

One final bit of news — in the spirit of being more businesslike and such, I’ve started a separate Twitter account for the tour company. It’ll cover all your paranormal New York news, while leaving my personal account free for general musings. And, as always, we’re on Facebook, too!

Hope to see you on a tour one day!