Night in the Railway Museum

I remain a benevolent sceptic where ghosts and other forteana are concerned – not that you would guess it from the number of books and articles I have written on the subject. Despite my scepticism, I am fascinated by the subject of ghosts and would love to be proved wrong. Hence my occasional ghost-hunts, related in my blog Spooky Vocation, which includes ‘Vigil on a Friday Night’ (originally published in FT151:46) about my disappointing ghost hunt at Lancashire’s Chingle Hall in 2001.

I did, however, have two very odd experiences at the National Railway Museum in York in February 2010. Despite there being 10 other investigators on the vigil, I was alone during both experiences, so I don’t have any witnesses to back me up.

While the other investigators were doing the glass-pushing experiment, which I don’t find convincing, I wandered off on my own towards the gift shop part of the museum, reached down a corridor past the customer lavatories, where the ghost of a man in a top hat had been seen.

I walked around there for a while looking at the books and other products on sale. Books stacked on shelving spanned the whole of the far wall, illuminated only by a row of 30 or so display lights overhead – small and circular ‘sunken’ lights built into the wood, and shining down on the shelves.

As I looked at the first six lights from the left, I thought to myself: “Wouldn’t it be strange if one of those lights started flashing on and off?” And, within a few seconds one of them did – the third one along from the left. I quickly looked down the line of lights, which continued for about 30 yards to the doors at the other end. None of the others was flashing. The light was not flickering or quickly flashing, as if there was a faulty circuit or failing current; it was just slowly and steadily pulsing on and off.

I looked around into the darkness for a sign of any human figure, but there was nothing. I looked back to the light as it pulsed slowly on and off and, as I continued watching, it stopped and returned to full glare.

Just in case I turned out to be the Uri Geller of electrical circuitry, I have since stared at other lights – and had no effect on them. The law of Occam’s Razor states that “the simplest solution – all things being equal – is probably the correct solution”. So, what was the simplest solution in this case? An electrical fault combined with a coincidence – or something spooky? No idea. Pass.

After another brief stroll around the gift shop, I returned down the darkened corridor and rejoined the others, still conducting the glass experiment. I didn’t tell them about the flashing light. I didn’t know how to describe it and also because it sounded unbelievable, and because I had no witnesses to corroborate what I said, I was worried they would think I was lying. After trying a few more unconvincing paranormal experiments with the others, I wandered off on my own again.

As I stood at the far end of one of the platforms, peering through the darkness past the café seating area in the direction of the office block, I saw a light switch off to the left of my vision. This was strange in itself, as I couldn’t recall which light had been on in that vicinity, and when I asked the guide about it later on, he could not suggest which light it was either.

Then, at the entrance to the passage leading to the office, I saw a shape, long and thin like a snake, moving from left to right at the doorway. It was not connected to anything above or below and seemed to be free-floating and selfpropelling. It almost looked like something blowing in the wind, but we were inside the building with no wind or draught, and it also seemed to be ‘blowing’ in slow-motion. This was even stranger than the flashing light in the gift shop.

Someone later suggested it was an optical illusion. It was around 2am and I had been awake all day and half of the night and I was tired, so maybe it was an optical illusion. Someone later suggested that the ‘shape’ I saw was heat rising off the ground, but this effect appears horizontally and was quite different to what I experienced. I felt like shouting out to the rest of the group to come and join me and see what they made of it, but all I wanted to do was just stand there and observe.

I felt a need to approach the object and find out what it was – but I stopped. I hate to admit it, but I was scared. While there was nothing inherently frightening about it, it was unlike anything I had ever experienced, so I guess it was fear of the unknown that stopped me investigating.

I can’t recall the object vanishing, but suddenly it wasn’t there, and I immediately regretted not approaching it. When I moved towards the office door, at the point where I had seen the object, I couldn’t find any explanation for it. Again, I didn’t tell the others, because I didn’t know how to describe the object. It was clear, but vague at the same time (if that makes sense), not like the ghost of a man or woman. Soon after that, and after another brief tour of the museum, we called it a night, packed up and headed home.

If I ever witness a ghost or poltergeist activity (something definitely paranormal) then I will no doubt dedicate the rest of my life to study

“I saw a shape, long and thin like a snake, moving from left to right”

ing the subject. But before I invest in a whole range of electronic equipment, buy a Ghostbusters jumpsuit, and change my name by deed poll to Spooky McDooky: The Spectre Inspector, I want to be absolutely convinced that these phenomena have an objective reality.

And despite the two really weird experiences related above, I will remain – like the good folk at Fortean Towers – benevolently sceptical. Andy Owens

Halifax, West Yorkshire