I spent this weekend at my sister's wedding. She was married at The Cranbrook House and Gardens. The house was beautiful, dark, and filled with wood paneling and old Gothic touches that made it feel more haunted than Hillhouse. I could almost imagine it whispering to me. I hadn't done any research into Cranbrook House and I had no idea if it was haunted, but I wanted to find out.
So I did what I always do. I snuck around and asked random people uncomfortable questions. This works very well in the South where people are friendly and love to talk. It did not work out well for me in Michigan. I snuck upstairs, where a lady found me and yelled at me very angrily. I asked her about ghosts and she said no ghosts and gave me the look I give my children when they ask me if they can have chocolate ice cream for breakfast. I skulked downstairs, determined to unravel the secrets histories of the old house. My sister told me there were rumors of a painter who died in the house. I knew his ghost must be hiding somewhere.
I started taking pictures. The same lady found me. She told me I couldn't take pictures that weren't of the wedding. She yelled at me again and sent me on my way. Now, she had her eye on me. She knew I was trouble. I snuck off again, but this time I did a better job and was able to snap a couple of pictures, but she found me again and yelled at me again. At this point, I gave up. It was my sister's wedding and I didn't want to ruin it with my strange ghost hunting behavior. So I never found any ghosts at Cranbrook House, but I was part of a beautiful wedding on a chilly autumn day and that is better than ghosts.
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