I thought that I would just sit on the beach with a fruity umbrella drink and my knitting a book in my hand, but I was with a sightseeing crew and they wanted to go see the famed Rose Hall,one of only 15 remaining “grand houses” from the sugar plantation days left on the island. Rumor has it that Rose Hall is haunted by the ghost of the former owner, Annie Palmer AKA the White Witch, a 4’11” spitfire who allegedly murdered three of her husbands and countless other slave lovers.
I was a little nervous about going to a haunted house because CPQ does NOT do ghosts or ghost stories.
I blame it on sneaking a peek at my brother’s copy of The Amityville Horror. Thirty-three years later, I still can’t stand to look out of a window at night for fear I’ll see the red eyes of whatever’s about to get me. I never found out what those red eyes were. After reading that sentence, I shut the book and ran screaming from the house.
Oh, and Mom, if you’re reading, it was Paul’s book. Feel free to beat him about the ears next time you see him.
Since it was broad daylight and I was with a large group, I went with the whole “safety in numbers” thing, and off we traipsed to Rose Hall.
Annie’s bedroom where she, herself, was murdered by a vengeful slave. The white spectre in the headboard shows up in a lot of pictures as proof that Annie’s still making her appearance, but guess what? It was just the sun. I moved two feet over and took the next picture, and voila, she was gone.
Not too far from Annie’s house is another estate which shall remain nameless but belongs to a famous singer whose name rhymes with Shohnny Mash. You know Shohnny…he WALKED THE LINE…and went to JACKSON….and might have occasionally had the PRISON BLUES while he was DRESSED IN BLACK? And who also sung a song about Annie Palmer?
This is the part of the post where CPQ remains intentionally vague so as not to implicate herself or a member of her family in a series of events which may or may not have happened and over which s/he had absolutely no control. This is also the part of the post where any incriminating pictures are deliberately left out because they may or may not exist.
A certain love of CPQ’s life decided to go golfing with some of his friends at a nearby course, and while their caddie was driving them around, he pointed out that Mr. Mash’s estate was just around the bend. Being afficionados, the gentlemen in question expressed a desire to see the house and so off they went to the front gates where the security guard politely allowed them to take a picture in front of the gates and also politely let them know that there was no admission to said estate.
These gentlemen took the aforementioned picture and hopped back in the cart and then started driving up into the tangle of vegetation, presumably to find the next hole, though since I know these golfers, it was more likely that they were trying to find an errant ball. Suddenly, the cart took a hard left and before the guys had a chance to ask where they were, they drove through a clearing and arrived IN THE BACK YARD of Shohnny’s house.
Being former fraternity boys, all of them, they may or may not have taken a multitude of pictures pretending to swim in the pool, eat at the patio table, and generally act like music legends.
Being a former government employee, I can neither confirm nor deny that this all occurred.
And it’s not breaking and entering if there wasn’t a fence or a sign, right?
Have a nice day.