A Journey back in Time- My day at the Vulture Mine

By James Kelly

On a beautiful, cloudless day in the desert, members of the Arizona Paranormal Investigators huddled around the entrance to the Famous Vulture Mine, making plans for the forthcoming evening. 

“This is not an investigation,” said API Director Joe Shelton. “This is a ghost hunt. We are hunting for ghosts.” 

With that in mind, I wondered what I would do if I caught one. Just how in the world could you catch a ghost? I would think about this throughout the entire experience. 

The Vulture Mine is a special place. It is a journey back to the days when each minute might be your last, where greed controlled common sense, costing the lives of many men. 

Over 200 million dollars of gold ore was taken out of the Vulture Mine. Founded by Henry Wickenburg in 1863, it became a thriving community ripped apart by violence and lawlessness. Some of the original buildings survive today; their dilapidated and torn tin roofs still creak loudly in the night as testaments to the past. 

The experienced ghost hunters were mixed in with the trainees. Armed with cameras and recorders, flashlights and thermometers, separate groups were organized and formed. Combing over 1.5 miles of a once robust community would be our task on this cool December evening. 

Located near the entrance to the ghost town is a tree that was used to hang 18 men for various crimes, mostly for theft of the precious gold ore. When I first saw this sinewy, grotesque tribute to death, I noticed that this ancient tree was a deep lush green, while all the other vegetation in the area was dry, brown, and lifeless.  

That bothered me. 

Our group toured the mineshaft opening where seven thieves and 12 burros were permanently entombed in the earth below because they had dared to dig ore from a mine- shaft support wall. Could their cries for help still be echoing in the hundreds of feet of tunnels below? 

Next up was the Assay house, where gold was measured and stored. This area has had many reports of paranormal activity in the past. It was also next to the old saloon and apartment building where many of the miners had lived and enjoyed their rugged life. 

When I entered one of the rooms to the apartment building, a putrid stench filled the air. I sounded the alarm to the rest of my group. Three members entered the area and verified the horrible smell. The smell lasted nearly a minute before it vanished. Temperature readings and several photographs were taken, but nothing turned up. 

We then broke for dinner at the Vulture Mine schoolhouse. The caretaker of the Mine had told us that it was a “hotspot” for paranormal activity. We all watched the sun disappear over the horizon after we had planned our strategy for the evening hunt. 

I heard talk of an EVP that had been picked up inside the schoolhouse by one of the groups. I located the team member, and sure enough, the reply of the recorder gave us the first real evidence of the day.   

The investigator asked the name of any presence in the room.  The voice said “John,” in a loud, but clear, drawn out response. I listened to it three times. It gave me chills, yet I was fascinated and looking forward to locating any type of evidence that I might find.

 I would not be disappointed. 

The Children’s Cemetery

This was one of the saddest places that I had ever visited. A Diphtheria outbreak killed over 120 children in the area. They were all buried in this lonely, desolate place in the desert. 

Multiple rows of tiny mounds lined the graveyard. Small, freshly painted wooden crosses were placed at the head of each grave. There were no names or dates to identify the fallen children. Joe Shelton informed me that the public had stolen all of the original headstones and dollhouses, even though the site is not well known or even mapped out. 

As the group took numerous photographs, some began to photograph orbs, most likely from the dust or pollen from the ever-increasing wind of a cold front that was moving in to the hills. 

Joe Shelton told me that he believed that he saw the ghost of a young boy darting behind the bushes near the rear of the cemetery. Jeffrey Zerner, a team member and close friend, rushed to the site and began to take digital photographs. A blue orb appeared in the location where the small child had been seen.

 I conducted an EVP session but could not pick up anything on tape. I took several digital photographs of the small area, but only picked up obvious dust orbs on my lens. 

After a considerable amount of time we decided to head back to the Vulture Mine.                                 

The Assay House 

Tired, hungry, and yet still excited, my friend Jeffrey and I set out to investigate the same area that we toured earlier in the day. 

The rest of the ghost hunting groups had met back up at the schoolhouse. Some people had already left for the night. 

As Jeffrey and I searched through the apartment building and saloon, and then the hanging tree area, blanketing them all with photos and EVP recordings, the evening temperature began to drop very quickly. The safe, sunny environment that we had grown accustomed to had now turned blustery, dark, and isolated as we ducked into the Assay House for one last look. 

Jeffrey entered first and walked down the hallway, I could hear tree branches slapping against the flimsy walls. Parts of the torn roof were dangling as the wind pitched them from side to side. 

As I searched for my flashlight, a thunderous banging sound occurred directly in front of me, followed by a rolling noise on the wooden floor, I was so shocked, and not expecting to hear this, I suddenly cried out.  

Locating my flashlight, I illuminated the entire area in front of me. The rolling noise then stopped. Jeffrey came back to my location and was sure that the noise was caused by the wind slamming the front door shut. We recreated the slamming of the front door just to be sure. 

It was not the same sound. The door had been in back of me, not in front, where the noises had came from. 

Sensing that the noise could have been a paranormal event, I turned my tape recorder on and began to take photographs. I then went from room to room identifying my location, then asking direct questions. 

The incident in the house had had its affect on me. I was now set on just terminating this ghost hunt and returning to Phoenix. Undaunted, Jeffrey stayed and met up with the rest of the group at the schoolhouse. 

I returned to Phoenix later that evening thinking about all of the events that occurred earlier in the day. As I pulled out my cell phone to check on any messages, I noticed that my phone was completely dead. All power had been drained. The phone had been fully charged before I left for the trip. 

 I had not made any phone calls that day. The phone had to be replaced shortly after that. 

Sunday Morning 

The next day I looked over all of the photographs that I had taken at the Vulture Mine. I could not see anything of a paranormal importance in the photographs.  

I then turned my attention to my tape recordings from the EVP sessions. Nothing unusual came up until I began to listen to the tape concerning the Assay House. I recalled that loud noise followed by the rolling sound the night before.  

I had then turned on my tape recorder and began to ask questions. My first question had been “What is your name?” 

No response. 

I asked the second question “Do you want us here?” 

The response, later identified as“ I’m  c-o-mp-l--e-t-ely in the dark,” was the reply. So low that you could barely hear it. A whisper of a long dead spirit perhaps?  

It took several days of listening to this message over and over. Playing it for friends and family, trying to ascertain what it was saying. One person thought that she heard the voice say “Yes, I want you here.” But I was not convinced.  

Jeffrey, who had accompanied me inside the Assay house, heard the voice on the recording but could not tell what it was saying. 

It was not until I purchased an expensive set of headphones that eliminated all background noise that I could here the message clearly say “ I’m c-o-m-p-l-e-t-e-l-y in the dark.” 

Was the EVP picked up in the Assay house generated by the loud, thunderous noise before it? Or, was it purely coincidental? I began the EVP session after this event had occurred. 

One theory about EVP suggests that the spirit must feed off of energy in the environment to help communicate. 

Did a spirit feed off of my state of fear to help it reproduce a voice to initiate contact?  

I will always remember my first trip to the Vulture Mine. It was an eye opening experience and one that I will never forget. 

I still recall API Director Joe Shelton telling all of us that this was a “ghost hunt “at the beginning of the day. 

However, I did not feel that I caught a ghost.  

I believe now that a ghost might have possibly caught me.