The Ghost of Third and Pike
A Seattle resident recounts a chilling, post-mortem promise kept by a friend who returned from the beyond to answer questions about a late-arriving train.
The story, cleaned up
A cleaned-up reading of the newspaper page: spelling and layout repaired, one story lifted off a crowded page. It follows the original closely but it is not a transcription. The original page is below; read it if a detail matters.
In this morning’s Intelligencer I find an item from the Troy (N. Y.) Times, headed 'A Spirit That Failed to Appear.' Now for a different result happening in my case: In the winter of 1866 I attended a number of spiritual seances in company with a friend. One evening as we were returning from a seance which had been rather of 'a stunner,' and over which my friend had become somewhat excited, he said to me, 'If I die first I will return to you the first chance I get, and so you will know that it is Hazen (that was his name), if you die first will you do the same to me?' 'Certainly I will, if it is possible for me to do so,' I said. My friend died the following Sunday. My affianced (who afterwards became and is now my wife) and myself sat up as 'sitters' at home. We were sitting near the door leading into the dining-room, busily engaged in conversation, when all of a sudden three heavy raps came on the door. I at once rose and opened the door, but no person was visible. I closed the door, and the raps came again, and with them the thought that it was my friend with his promise. I asked mentally, for I knew my affianced was afraid of spirits, 'Hazen, is this you?' Three distinct raps came as before (meaning yes). 'Will your mother arrive on the nine o’clock train this evening?' (She had telegraphed that she would be on the train to arrive at that hour.) One loud rap came (meaning no). 'Will she arrive on the twelve o’clock train?' Three loud raps came. 'Does she feel very bad?' Several lively raps came, and my affianced sprung to her feet and said, 'What on earth is that?' I answered that I was mentally questioning Hazen, and he answering. She declined to stay longer in the house unless I stopped, and thus ended our communication. As you have many subscribers to the Intelligencer who are spiritualists, no doubt, my side of this question will be interesting to them, if you see fit to publish it.
“Three distinct raps came as before (meaning yes). 'Will your mother arrive on the nine o’clock train this evening?'... One loud rap came (meaning no).”
Spiritualism was a massive cultural phenomenon in 1870s Seattle, reflecting a era seeking to bridge the gap between hard-nosed industrial progress and the mysteries of the afterlife. While we might look at these 'raps' as a parlor game today, the intensity of the belief highlights a Victorian obsession with connection that mirrors our own modern attempts to find meaning in the digital ether.
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