Pensacola Lighthouse

EMM

April 6, 2018

Pensacola, FL

60 miles away from Crestview, located at Naval Air Station Pensacola, lies the beautiful Pensacola Lighthouse. Built in 1859, the Pensacola Lighthouse shone for the first time on January 1st, New Year's Day.

Standing an impressive 151 feet tall and 191 feet above sea level, the lighthouse boasted a first-order Fresnel

lens, the most powerful lens of its time.

Shortly after its construction, Civil War broke out and tensions between the northern and southern states caused Florida to secede from the Union. As a hotspot for battle, with Fort Barancas less than a mile away, the lighthouse became a much desired target for infiltration by Confederate troops. Within the same month of it's completion, the lighthouse, along with Forts Barancas and McRee had fallen into enemy hands.

After a year of constant battle, the base of the tower is struck by a direct shot from

Union troops at Fort Pickens, damaging the structure in at least three places.

In 1862, Union troops once again gained control of the area, and thus began the

reconstruction period. The lighthouse was repainted some time after, the lower portion

white to contrast again the tree-line and upper half black, to contrast against the light

sky.

The most known deaths to happen at the lighthouse are that of Michaela Penalbar and

Jeremiah Ingraham, the first keeper. Michaela Penalbar brutally slashed her husband,

Jeremiah, to death with a knife. With lack of evidence to convict her, Michaela

remained in care of the lighthouse until her own death inside the lighthouse in 1855.

Story goes, the couple never actually lived in the current lighthouse as it was

reconstructed from the original lighthouse that lay on the other side of Pensacola Bay.

However, many claim that the spirit of Michaela Penalbar migrated to the new tower and remains there, haunting its walls along with the spirits of two former keepers.

As Pensacola Lighthouse stands at the top of haunted places in America, you can understand why it was an absolute MUST for me to visit.

After a morning on the beach, soaking up the sun, my daughter and I decided to make the drive to the lighthouse. We both had our reasons for going, hers being that she had never seen a lighthouse in person before and wanted to cross it off her bucket list. The drive was a pleasant one, we took in the scenery and the ocean air and before we knew it, we had arrived.

Pulling into the parking lot, my jaw dropped. The house, though fairly simple, was stunning. ​Stark white with black shutters, two floors of wrap-around porch and white picket fence?

"I could totally live here." I thought to myself. We decided to tour the house first.

Past a well, through a garden and up the gorgeous front steps we went. For such an impressive home the front door was small. I notice the odd things. Stepping into the home was like stepping back in time. Furniture, dishes, linens, everything was on display as if the home was still lived in. Except for the creepy mannequins set up to display what life would have been like in the lighthouse, it looked like a very normal home. The downstairs proved interesting yet uneventful on the paranormal aspect. I spent time staring into glass cases of little trinkets and pieces of historical importance.

Nearing the far end of the house though, I sensed something. Mind you, there are times that when I sense something, when I feel it, I am immediately drawn to touching it. Perhaps it's a way of fully connecting that energy. Anyone that knows me well knows not to be surprised if I walk towards an object or building just to lay both my hands on it. I'll often stay there a while, sometimes talking to the object if I let myself get engrossed in the moment.

So there I was, standing with both my hands pressed on a gigantic wooden door, whispering. Thankfully no other lighthouse guests were in the hallway at the time! Turns out what I had found was the original entrance from the house to the tower, a door that has long since been closed off and sealed with a protective coat to guard against aging. I sensed something brush passed me, going through the door. There was no mistaking this sensation, not hot nor cold, not a breeze or gust, just the sense that something hurried past me. What I did immediately afterwards is a perfect example of me being caught up in the moment.

Sensing this energy brush passed me, I instinctively tried to chase after it! With both hands on the door already, I did exactly what anyone else would have done trying to get through; I pushed! Obviously nothing happened. Why I had forgotten the plaque I had just read seconds before clearly stating that the door was sealed shut, I will never know. Alas, I was that idiot in the lighthouse that day pushing on door that would never open.

A few seconds of struggle and my mind snapped back to the present. Slightly embarrassed, I stepped away from the door and pretended like nothing happened. :)

Giggling at my stupidity as I went up the stairs to the second floor, I was fully unprepared for what happened next. The first room I stepped into was set up to be a young child's bedroom, complete with a fake kitten asleep on the bed. There is no other way to describe how I felt in this room other than I felt it was wrong. That was the word that kept popping into my head, "wrong". Over and over again. I moved to the next room and immediately stopped dead in my tracks. What I heard in my head next took my very breath away, "Get out".

As I sit here in my office writing this blog, I dwell on the feeling of hearing those words, I want to cry. Whatever, whoever, that was, knew me. They knew what I was, my abilities, and they did not like it. They didn't want me to know anything, they wanted to stay hidden. This was their house. I immediately told my daughter I didn't like that room and went straight back downstairs.

I texted Harmony as soon as I reached the bottom step. I went into the bathroom, an

odd place to communicate with a spirit but the only place I could ensure privacy. I

spoke quietly, "I don't mean any harm," I said,"I'm sorry for upsetting you. I

promise I'm friendly but I'm going to leave now".

We exited the home and fresh air never felt better. We decided to go on as planned and

climb the tower. The stairs were far too exhausting to pay attention to anything else, fortunately, as there are 177 of them. The view from the top was as breathtaking as I had expected it to be. My thoughts as I looked over the bay were not happy ones, though. As to what they were exactly I will never share. I will tell you they were extremely disturbing and I am incredibly thankful I was able to snap out of them.

Needless to say, I will not be visiting the gorgeous Pensacola Lighthouse ever again.