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The Trivette Clinic in Hamptonville, NC was built in 1932 by Dr. William Trivette.  It served as a hospital until the good doctor’s death in 1938.  He was 50 years old.  The building was then turned into a supper club and alcohol detoxification facility before it became a nursing home until the 1950s.  Since then, it has had a turn as an office as well as a private residence.  It is also haunted.

My father came out to celebrate my birthday this weekend, and a group of us decided to take a tour of the old clinic.  It did not disappoint.

Tim and Doug, the current owners of Harmony Gardens Nursery and the Trivette Clinic are familiar with the history of both the building and many of the ghosts who call the clinic home.  They are warm, inviting, and polite hosts gently encouraging the ghosts to participate in the tour of the facility.  They were interviewed for “My Ghost Story” on the Biography channel.  Watch for it to air sometime this season.

I took lots of pictures, and as one would expect there were lots of “orbs” present in many shots.  But those can be explained scientifically as light reflecting off dust particles in the air most of the time.  So I don’t generally put too much stock in them.  But, they are fun to look at anyway.

The first thing we did was get a tour and history of the entire building, room by room.

Following our tour, during which all the exterior doors were locked and secured (keeping us inside) we returned to the basement.  They said they do that so we know if we hear anything upstairs its not going to be someone coming inside inadvertently; it is one of the inmates.  Doug and Tim placed flashlights in various places throughout the room, and then we sat in the dark while they called to any of the ghosts who might be present in the house with us to turn on the flashlights.

It really wasn’t long before someone or something did.

See the ball in the picture above?  There is a ghost child, a little girl named Majesty (might be a nickname), who likes to play ball on occasion with guests on the tour.  At some point, the ball was passed to my hands and offered to Majesty to play.  At one point, it felt like something was moving the ball, but the movement was so slight, I attributed it to the drafty air in the basement, so I said nothing.  Shortly after, I passed the ball to someone else.

The flashlight continued to flicker on and off, remaining illuminated for short periods of time.  At one point, the people in our group on the other side of the room said it suddenly got pitch black.  I looked around to see what they were referring to, but couldn’t.  I could see the flashlight continued to flicker on and off, remaining illuminated for short periods of time.

A while later, I was nominated to take the ball to the top of the staircase to see if anyone wanted to play.  My fellow ghost hunter gang illuminated my path with their own cell phones and flashlights as the flashlight on the stairs had been turned off.  As I began to ascend the staircase, I noticed a much smaller shadow that was not mine ascending with me.  No sooner did I notice, than I came to a complete stop; the shadow disappeared and the flashlight on the stairs illuminated again.  I told the group I’d seen a shadow that wasn’t mine, and a few confirmed they’d seen the same thing.  But it was gone, and I convinced myself it was a trick of the lights and my imagination.

At the top of the stairs, they invited any other presences in the home to knock on the basement door.  I was relieved when none did.  I don’t know how long it was, but it didn’t seem like too much time had passed before I felt that same hesitant pressure on the ball.  I didn’t feel a draft, but my hands were as cold as ice.  I gently whispered encouragement to whatever was there on the stairs with me, and pushed back against the pressure, enough to convince myself that it wasn’t air movement or muscle fatigue that was causing the ball to move in my hand.  I eventually released the back pressure and allowed the ball to be pushed from my hand.  It bounced down the stairs and rolled to a stop just in front of the chair where I’d been sitting.

A few more minutes of calling to other ghosts to turn on other lights with no response, and we decided to move the party to the top floor of the house.  Almost as soon as we were situated, Tim or Doug called out to Phil to turn on the light in the operating room.  It came on almost immediately, and was much brighter and stronger than the hesitant, flickering light from the flashlight on the stairs.  Two of us walked down the dark hallway to join Phil in the room.  We held out our hands offering to let him touch them.  The light turned on and off while we were there.  I felt an almost electric pulse in mine, but I can’t say for sure it wasn’t just the way my hand was held.  The girl next to me felt a brief touch on the tip of her finger.   At one point, she asked Phil to turn on the light if he wanted her to leave, and it came on immediately.  She hopped off the table and I was left alone in the old operating room with the ghost.

Apart from Phil and Majesty, no other ghosts made their presence known.  From the stories of others in the party, a few may have made their presence felt.  But this is my blog, and I didn’t feel them, so I’m not writing about them.  You’ll have to track down the blogs of the other members of our group to read about their stories.

Before we knew it, three hours had passed, and several in our party were ready to call it a night.  My father had already fallen asleep for several minutes in a chair; I guess ghost hunting is tiring for the old man.  On the way out, several of us discussed it, and decided on our next move:

A sleepover in the clinic.

I cannot wait to blog about that particular event (just as soon as we can make it happen)!  Stay tuned for part two of the Haunting at Trivette Clinic.

What an awesome way to celebrate a birthday!

P.S.  Speaking of birthdays, The Stubby Thumb turned a year old recently.  Who’d have thought we’d make it this far, Hitchhikers?  Let’s keep going, shall we?

P.P.S.  For those of you who missed my birthday, or The Stubby Thumb’s birthday… we are still accepting gifts and groveling for the foreseeable future.  ;)  Thanks again for stopping by!