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This is My Dark Path

Stories of haunted houses stretch back millennia and the tale of the house that belonged to Athenodorus Cananites house is a classic one. It's one of the first ghost stories to ever be recorded.

Athenodorus was a Stoic philosopher who lived around the first century B.C. The story goes that while he was living in Athens, he heard about a house that was notorious for being haunted. It was said that the ghost of an old man, bound in chains, would appear, alarming the homeowner with his clanking and moaning. Athenodorus, being a curious and rational philosopher, was intrigued and decided to rent the house.

And so, he set up his desk and started to write. It’s been told that the ghost appeared, rattling its chains. Rather than fleeing in fright, Athenodorus held his ground. As the ghost interrupted him mid-sentence with his writing, Athendorus gestured to the spirit to wait so that he could finish his thought. His writing complete, he turned his full attention to the apparition. This pause elicited a different response from the ghost. Instead of the expected behavior of more chain rattling and groaning, the manifestation led Athenodorus to a specific spot in the courtyard, and then vanished.

The next day, Athenodorus got the local authorities to dig at the spot where the ghost had disappeared. They found the bones of an old man bound in chains. He'd been murdered, and his body hidden. After the remains were given a proper burial, the ghostly disturbances stopped. The house was no longer haunted, and Athenodorus became a legend.

This story, recorded by Pliny the Younger, a lawyer, author, and magistrate of Rome, in a letter to his friend Sura, is often cited as one of the earliest known reports of a haunted house in Western literature.

The story is what we expect of a haunted house – neatly wrapped up in just a few paragraphs – an eerie, deserted building, a ghost motivated by past wrongs, and a hero who solves the mystery. It deftly blends philosophy, bravery, and the supernatural.

But rarely are the causes and effects of a haunted place so easily defined. There are many spooky buildings across the globe and many with frightening reputations. And we, with curious minds, would like nothing more than to find the spirit who haunts the tower and inquire – why are you still here, seemingly forced to walk the rooms, halls, and gardens of a specific dwelling? Yet, unlike the story of Athenodorus, we don't have reliable ways to find and talk with these supposed spirits. Still, many people throughout history have attempted to communicate with the dead. Mediums, shamans, oracles, and mystics have, throughout the millennia, tried to communicate reliably with the dead through many different objects and rituals – and even when they were outright frauds, they still used these tools. Yet, in the last 200 years, those tools have increasingly incorporated modern technology to talk with spirits. In this episode of My Dark Path, I’ll share a visit to one uncommonly haunted hotel and explore the history of technologies that have been used to communicate with spirits.

Hi, I'm MF Thomas, and welcome to the My Dark Path podcast. Every episode explores the fringes of history, science, and the paranormal. So, if you geek out over these subjects, you're among friends here at My Dark Path. We hope you'll check us out on Youtube, X, and Instagram, sign up for our newsletter at mydarkpath.com, or just email us at explore@mydarkpath.com. We also want to thank our growing group of Patreon supporters. 

Finally, thank you for listening and choosing to walk the Dark Paths of the world with me. Let's get started with episode 64, Talking with the Spirits.

Part 1

There is a reason that horror writers love hotels. Hotels are supposed to be safe, places where we can let our guard down and relax whether working or on vacation. At a hotel, you have privacy yet are surrounded by other people. You get a few days’ relief from the pressures of the world and an entire staff dedicated to serving your needs.

Yet, with that many people coming and going daily, it is inevitable that many hotels will be witness to tragedies, crimes, and often salacious activities. It could be the anonymity that we expect from hotels, but all sorts of strange things can happen behind closed doors. As Stephen King showed us in The Shining, some unfortunate guests never check out of those haunted buildings, their spirits trapped forever in the hallways and rooms. Paradoxically, the more isolated the hotel, the more likely it is to feel claustrophobic or trapped. This may explain why small-town Minnesota, a state generally known for its pragmatism and common sense, has several legendary hotels with paranormal reputations.

For example, the Kahler Grand Hotel in Rochester, Minnesota, was originally built in 1921 to house paying guests and Mayo Clinic patients. In 1977, Helen Voorhees, the heiress of the Brach candy fortune, arrived at the hotel after a check-up at the Mayo Clinic. The recently widowed Helen was last seen purchasing gift shop items and then checking out of the hotel. Then, she vanished. Though one man served time in connection with her disappearance Named Richard Bailey, her body has never been found, nor has the case been conclusively solved. To this day, many guests at the Kahler Grand report seeing a woman dressed in clothes from the 1970s riding the elevator, only to mysteriously vanish before exiting on any floor.

You could also try the Historic Calumet Hotel in the tiny town of Pipestone, Minnesota. This hotel, a hive of paranormal activity, was featured on an episode of Gordon Ramsay's Hotel Hell. In 1944, a guest named Charles Herschberger died in Room 308 in a catastrophic fire that raged through the building. A bellboy later recounted that no one could understand why Mr. Herschberger did not climb out the window to escape the blaze. Guests in Room 308 today often report lights turning on and off randomly, and housekeepers tell of objects that move around as they try to clean the room. More than once, the front desk staff have also received calls from a guest in Room 207 requesting toiletries. Upon delivery of the items, they realized that no one had occupied the room that night. And, though there is only one piano in the dining room, which is rarely used, many guests have reported hearing old-fashioned tunes play lightly throughout the hotel.

However, one of Minnesota's most famous haunted hotels is The Palmer House in Sauk Centre. Located in west-central Minnesota, the town is home to approximately 4,600 people. Founded in 1856, it was initially a trading post established during rapid Western expansion in the 19th century. Today, it is the quintessential American small town, with a relaxed pace of life, natural beauty, and a close-knit community that enjoys annual festivals, parades, and a beautifully preserved historical downtown.

Yet, there is also a darker side to Sauk Centre, which is widely believed to be the inspiration for Sinclair Lewis’s novel Main Street. Lewis, who won the Pulitzer Prize for Fiction in 1926, wrote a tale about the fictitious town Gopher Prairie, which, while superficially charming, is rife with secrets, toxic gossip, and busybodies. Lewis cleverly showed how individuals can be crushed beneath provincialism and the pressure to conform. As much as this is true, it's more of a function of the human condition, as the same human tendencies are displayed in the largest cities and the smallest towns. But as it happens, Sinclair Lewis, as a young man, was a night clerk at The Palmer House in Sauk Centre, which I visited in December 2021. 

The location where the Palmer House Hotel stands today was originally the home of the town’s first hotel, the old Sauk Centre House, built in 1863. While it was an important hub for social and business events, it became a hub for less reputable activities, reportedly hosting a brothel and a saloon. 

When the fire broke out on June 26, 1900, the townspeople were not distraught to see the landmark disappear. Many thought it was an "eyesore."  According to the papers at the time, the fire was intentional. Reportedly, no one died in the fire. In 1901, Ralph and Christena Palmer built the Palmer House Hotel on the site of the old Sauk Center House. Reportedly, the townspeople were excited to have what was a first-class hotel in their town. The Palmers lived there with their three children, and Christena's mother.  Her brother, George Brandner, also lived and worked at the hotel.

The new hotel was beautifully designed and was the first building in Sauk Centre to have electricity. It originally boasted 24 rooms, however guests had shared bathrooms on each floor. Located in the heart of downtown and near the railroad, it thrived as a relaxing place for traveling salesmen and as a meeting place for locals. Later, the hotel owners expanded the number of rooms to 38 with the addition of another floor. Today, the hotel has 19 guest rooms.

While no one died when the old Sauk Centre House burned down, the effects of its role in prostitution seemed to persist into the Palmer House hotel.

While rooms 11 and 17 have the reputation as being the most haunted, it is room 17 that has the most horrible connection to the old Sauk Centre House. Room 17 is rumored to be haunted by the spirit of a prostitute named Lucy. Lucy is believed to have lived during the 1880s when the Sauk Centre House operated as a brothel and gambling house. According to legend, she met a tragic end, murdered by her pimp, Raymond, who is said to haunt Room 22. Due to her violent death, Lucy is known to harbor a strong dislike for men and is reported to physically attack them when they stay in room 17. Visitors have also experienced doors slamming shut and locking in the room, adding to its eerie reputation.

On the other hand, Raymond’s ghost displays hostility towards female guests who stay in room 22. His ghost has a particular disliking for the hotel’s owner, Kelley Freese. Freese said she has often sensed Raymond’s presence and has been physically assaulted by him on multiple occasions.

Elsewhere in the hotel, there are other apparitions. One is of a small boy playing with a ball, who many believe to be the spirit of Ralph Palmer’s son, Carlisle. Another legend has it that a young boy died from the flu while staying at The Palmer House Hotel in the early 1900s. Several guests, over the years, have noted that their sleep was disturbed by the sound of children playing in the hallway all night, even though the register shows no children logged as guests on those evenings.

The hotel also served alcohol during Prohibition, running the contraband through underground tunnels that linked the hotel’s basement to various establishments in town. Kelley Freese, who has owned the hotel since 2002, once followed the advice of a psychic and found bones in the basement. She dutifully boxed them up but, when she returned to the desk after taking a phone call, the box was nowhere to be found and has thus far never returned.

One woman and her mother-in-law celebrating her birthday mentioned they heard a voice distinctly say "Happy Birthday" while standing in front of room 11. Others have heard their names called by someone who was not there. Guests have also reported being asked for their drink orders at the bar only to turn and see no one standing there.

And the guests aren’t the only ones to have unique experiences. One night clerk took the job for extra income over the summer as her primary job was as a Catholic school teacher.  She wrote

I can tell you about some of the “strange” happenings that I experienced. I was a little nervous on my first night. As with any new job, I wanted to be sure that I made an excellent first impression. I vacuumed the dining room and made sure that all of the tables were set with placemats and silverware. I was slightly disgusted that, on several tables, the silverware seemed to have been thrown on haphazardly. But I straightened it all out and went to check the bathrooms. A few hours later, I went to double-check that everything was clean. When I checked the dining room, many of the sets of silverware had been moved! Now, being a good Catholic, I said a half dozen "Hail Mary's" and straightened them all again. Then I went to The Pub and found a fire blazing in the fireplace! Not so unusual, except that it was about 90 degrees outside. I didn't panic, but I did leave The Pub quickly and said a very heartfelt "Our Father". I figured there was a reasonable explanation, but I haven't heard it yet. The owner insists that the gas connection to the fireplace is turned off during the summer.”

Other odd occurrences included lobby lamps that would go on without explanation. Sometimes I could turn them off, and other times they would stay on. I eventually unplugged one particular lamp that became too creepy. Also, the faucet in the waitress station would turn on occasionally but would only run for a minute and then go off. The silverware was moved so often, that eventually, I just gave up trying to straighten it.

The bar area at the Palmer House is often the location of ghostly sightings. Full-bodied apparitions have been witnessed there and many believe a man hanged himself there in the 1950s. Numerous paranormal investigators have reported seeing humanoid-shaped grey smoke in the room. Al Tingley, the hotel owner during the 1970s, documented these eerie occurrences in his book, "The Corner of Main Street," which discusses the Palmer House and mentions this mysterious entity. 

All of these stories and many more available online – reinforce the hotel's reputation as a ghostly hotspot among many professional and amateur ghost hunters. And several years ago, having learned of the Palmer House Hotel, I realized that it was just a short two-hour drive from my residence in Minneapolis and I seized the opportunity to visit it. Upon reaching Sauk Center, it was easy to find the building in the quaint downtown area – a grand brick structure at the corner of the main street. A plaque adorning the entrance proudly proclaimed its inclusion in the National Register of Historic Places.

Upon stepping into the lobby, I was transported back in time with the the ambiance of the early 1900s. The ground floor was furnished with vintage sofas, period decorations, and captivating photographs showcasing the hotel's earlier days. Remarkably, little had changed, from the enduring hardwood floors to the intricately designed tin ceiling panels. As I scrutinized the faces in each vintage photo adorning the hotel lobby, a sense of anticipation crept over me, hoping to stumble upon something uncanny or eerily familiar – akin to the spectral appearance of Jack Torrance in the haunting photographs from the Overlook Hotel depicted in 'The Shining.' Even as I reviewed the snapshots captured on my iPhone, my gaze lingered on each image, half-expecting a hint of the supernatural to manifest itself on film, maybe like the anticipation I feel waiting in line outside the Haunted Mansion attraction at Disney parks where unusual spooky FX happen making the experience more realistic Unreasonably, I hoped to witness a paranormal manifestation – perhaps a flickering light, a subtle movement, or even a faint, eerie wail. spooky

And, as I walked up the stairs to my room on the second floor, I was most surprised, not by a supernatural encounter, but a hallway lined with dozens of video cameras and other electronic equipment, hoping for a modern experience equivalent to Athenodorus’ meeting with the ghostly old man two millennia ago.

I certainly would have been delighted by a supernatural experience, but the number and variety of ghost hunting technologies were almost as intriguing. I paused in the hall, wanting to inspect the equipment but not disrupting what was clearly a well-planned effort by each ghost hunting guest.

There was someone else in the hall that evening. He was another late-arriving guest who was only now setting up his ghost-hunting equipment alongside his wife and young daughter. After I admitted, somewhat sheepishly, that I didn’t recognize much of the equipment deployed in the hall, he kindly gave me a few minutes to explain a few of the various types of ghost-hunting devices.

I also learned from him that the Palmer House hosted its first paranormal seminar in 2008 and had been featured in episodes of Ghost Adventures and The Dead Files. He, and other ghost hunting visitors would come to the hotel with different types of equipment designed to pick up movement, energy, and even electronic voice phenomena. Ghost hunters have recorded EVPs virtually every time they have stayed at the hotel. An EVP is simply the recording of communication from spirits that is detectable upon playback. But the device that most fascinated me was the small, radio-looking like device called a spirit box. While most other devices were one way detection – the Spirit Box had an explicit objective of creating two-way communication between the mortal and spirit worlds. He explained the device's history and how he'd use it to ask questions when he believed a spirit was nearby or listening.

While skeptical, I didn't want to offend the kind man by asking, "Really? Why do you think that would work?" Returning to my room, I started searching the Internet about the device's origins, discovering a rich history in the attempts to use technology to communicate with other worlds.

After being on for about five minutes, the solitary light above the bed started a low humming sound. Soon after, the lighting randomly fluctuated between dim and bright at unpredictable intervals. This flickering persisted for about fifteen minutes before becoming too annoying to tolerate. Despite the thermostat being turned all the way up, the room was frigid, and the front desk's space heater did little to lessen the cold. This finally prompted me to extinguish the light and seek refuge beneath the covers.

As I still read about the history of the spirit box on my iPad, I pondered if this was the type of supernatural encounter that others sought out at the hotel. Perhaps it was, but I was too exhausted to react to the spirit's pranks – if it were that at all. It was a typical Minnesota winter with nighttime temperatures in the -20s and the electrical switches and outlets seemed decades old – perhaps easily susceptible to the low temperature. And so, it was easy to dismiss any of this as the manifestations of a spirit.

But upon further reflection, I wondered – how often are poltergeist-type activities the equivalent of, if not substantially less intrusive, Athenodorus' ghostly old man rattling chains and wailing? Are they a spirit's attempt to get our attention to reveal a more profound truth? And do we, as mortals, simply have to summon the courage not to flee the apparitions or paranormal happenings, but to listen to them, instead? 

With all this in my head, I finally fell into a fitful sleep. Since then, I've pondered two things, one trying to understand why the human race has craved communication with the afterlife and two why inventors have strived to find a way of two-way communication with the dead. Whether or not it's possible, it is a fascinating and dark path to explore.

Part 3

The Spirit Box, easily mistaken for a simple radio, promises to bridge the gap between the living and the dead. Its primary purpose is to capture and interpret the fleeting, disembodied voices that many believe are spirits' attempts to communicate with the living. For ghost hunters and paranormal enthusiasts, it is a direct line to the unknown, offering a way to receive messages, warnings, or even answers to pressing questions from the other side, similar to the movie, Poltergeist, where a little girl chats with the family's television as it flashes static after the nightly broadcast.

The Spirit Box is a modified AM/FM radio that continuously scans radio frequencies. This constant scanning, often called "sweeping," generates a series of short audio bursts. These bursts creates a fragmented stream of sound, snippets of radio broadcasts, and white noise. The idea is that spirits can manipulate these audio fragments to form coherent words and sentences, allowing them to communicate. Unlike ghost-hunting tools requiring post-investigation analysis, the Spirit Box allows for real-time interaction. Investigators can ask questions and listen for immediate responses, facilitating a more dynamic and engaging investigation.

During an investigation, the Spirit Box is typically used in a quiet, controlled environment to minimize interference from external noise. Investigators might conduct a session by asking direct questions and then listening intently to the bursts of sound produced by the sweeping frequencies. The excitement builds as they strain to discern any intelligible words or phrases that emerge from the static chaos.

Sessions are often recorded, allowing for playback and detailed analysis. Investigators often use additional equipment, such as digital recorders or even software, to enhance and isolate potential spirit voices. This meticulous process helps ensure that any apparent communication is carefully examined and verified.

Here are some examples that have been recorded. I'll play them first, then the interpretation.

Even while I have read and listened to many of these spooky conversations that ghost hunters have held via a Spirit Box, I am equally fascinated by the novel uses of technology that humans deploy – even for something as esoteric as ghost hunting. And, like most novel technologies, the Spirit Box didn't emerge out of thin air. It was initially named Frank's Box, after it's modern day designer – Frank Sumption. But before I share more about Frank's history, it's worth exploring the history of trying to use technology to communicate with the spirits of the dead has a long history that is intertwined with the history of spiritualism. 

Spiritualism can trace its roots back to 1840s America with the date of March 31, 1848 often cited as the actual birth date of the movement. This is the day that Kate and Margaret Fox reported making contact with a spirit. Their story appeared in newspapers and periodicals nationwide, sparking widespread interest in talking to spirits or ghosts. Even when the Fox sisters later admitted to fabricating their story and demonstrated how they created the sounds attributed to spirits, the public's fascination with the movement persisted. The momentum behind spiritualism had become unstoppable.

As the movement grew, the writings of deceased scientists Emanuel Swedenborg and Franz Mesmer gained popularity. Swedenborg, a Swedish scientist and mystic had claimed to communicate directly with spirits before he passed away in 1772, but warned others against seeking contact with the afterlife. On the other hand, Mesmer, a German physician who died in 1815, encouraged people to contact the spirit realm and introduced a technique known as mesmerism to aid in this process. Mesmerism, which required significant showmanship, became popular entertainment in playhouses and theaters worldwide. Over time, mesmerism evolved into what is now known as hypnosis.

Among the well-known entertainers of the time were "trance lecturers" who gained fame for their purported ability to enter a trance state and deliver lectures or messages from spirits. One of the most famous was Andrew Jackson Davis, known as the "Poughkeepsie Seer". In public performances, Davis claimed to have communicated with the spirit of Emanuel Swedenborg during his trance states, delivering messages from the deceased mystic. Like Davis, other mediums would enter trances to channel messages from deceased loved ones for audience members. Trance lecturers became so popular that many achieved significant wealth, performing at private society parties and events. Some even became personal spiritual advisors for the rich and famous. Talking to the dead became both fashionable and profitable. Today, individuals who channel spiritual messages are known as Mediums, employing seances as a conduit to communicate with those in the beyond.

Despite spiritualism's popularity, skepticism grew. One notable skeptic was the famous magician Harry Houdini, who exposed fraudulent mediums. Interestingly, one of Houdini's close friends, Sir Arthur Conan Doyle, the creator of Sherlock Holmes, firmly believed in the occult and spirit communication.

The Ouija board, also known as a "talking board," became a significant tool for those seeking to communicate with the dead. The popularity of spiritualism surged after the Civil War, as people sought closure or information about their deceased loved ones. The board was mass-produced and marketed by Elijah Bond, Charles Kennard, and Colonel Washington Bowie, who founded the Kennard Novelty Company. The name "Ouija" allegedly came from the board during a session, though some believe it is derived from the French and German words for "yes."

As the 20th century dawned, interest in communicating with the dead accelerated during World War I, as over 16 million died on the battlefield and in affected civilian areas. As new technologies emerged that harnessed the power of electricity, their inclusion in spirit communication followed.

One of the earliest scientists to apply electricity and wireless communication principles to speaking with the dead was Roberto Landell de Moura. His grandfather immigrated from Scotland to Brazil in the mid-1800s and Roberto was born on January 21, 1861, in Porto Alegre, Brazil. He was a Roman Catholic priest deeply interested in science and technology. Landell de Moura was not just a clergyman but also an inventor with several notable achievements. He is often credited as one of the pioneers of wireless communication, independently developing technology that paralleled the work of other early radio inventors like Guglielmo Marconi and Nikola Tesla. In the late 19th and early 20th centuries, he conducted experiments with wireless telegraphy and voice transmission, obtaining patents for his innovations in Brazil and the United States.

While Landell de Moura's contributions to wireless technology are well-documented, his foray into spirit communication is less well-known but equally fascinating. Around 1910, reports about Landell using a mysterious device to communicate with spirits began circulating. This box, which he reportedly invented, allowed him to hear and speak with entities from the spirit world.

Details about the exact nature and workings of Landell's spirit communication box are sparse and often shrouded in mystery. The device was described as a small box into which Landell would speak and receive answers. It is said that Landell kept the specifics of the box's operation secret, refusing to divulge how it functioned or the principles behind it. This secrecy contributed to the mystique surrounding both the man and his invention.

Despite his reluctance to share the technical details of his spirit communication box, Landell de Moura conducted several public demonstrations of the device. These events drew considerable attention and sparked both fascination and skepticism among observers. While some were convinced of Landell's ability to communicate with the dead, others were more skeptical, questioning the legitimacy of his claims and the technology behind the box.

Skeptics often argued that the box could have been a sophisticated illusion or trick, capitalizing on the era's widespread interest in spiritualism and the supernatural. However, those who witnessed Landell's demonstrations and believed in his work considered him a genuine medium with a groundbreaking invention. Little is in the public domain about his spirit box, and so far, my requests of a Brazilian historical society dedicated to his history have gone unanswered.

While Landell's contribution to wireless communication is important, it perhaps pales in comparison to two giants in the history of inventions that utilized electricity, creating inventions that would reshape the world. Both Edison and Tesla were as inventive as they were competitive. Yet, today, we'll explore how they each shaped the world of inventions that attempted to reach across time, space, and the spirit world.

Part 4

Nikola Tesla, one of the most brilliant and enigmatic inventors of the late 19th and early 20th centuries, is renowned for his groundbreaking work in electricity and electromagnetism. However, his interests extended far beyond conventional science and technology, delving into realms that included the possibility of communicating with spirits. Tesla's exploration of this field, though less documented than his other work, reflects his wide-ranging curiosity and willingness to investigate the unknown.

Nikola Tesla was born on July 10, 1856, in Smiljan, in what is now Croatia. From a young age, he exhibited an extraordinary aptitude for mathematics and physics. His education and early work in electrical engineering set the stage for his later achievements, including the development of alternating current (A.C.) electrical systems, wireless communication, and numerous other innovations.

Tesla's fascination with the unseen forces of nature was a recurring theme throughout his life. He often spoke of receiving inspiration through visions and vivid dreams, and he believed that there were untapped energies and frequencies in the universe that could be harnessed for human benefit.

In the late 1890s and early 1900s, Tesla's experiments with radio waves and wireless communication led him to speculate about the possibility of communicating with non-physical entities. While working on wireless transmission, he received strange, unexplained signals through his equipment.

The signals he detected one night were so unsettling that his scientific mind couldn't help but consider the possibility of direct communication. But instead of spirits, Tesla believed that he was receiving communication from beings on other worlds. He recorded his thoughts in his diary.

"My first observations positively terrified me, as there was present in them something mysterious, not to say supernatural, and I was alone in my laboratory at night. It was some time afterward when the thought flashed upon my mind that the disturbances I had observed might be due to an intelligent control. Although I could not decipher their meaning, it was impossible for me to think of them as having been entirely accidental. The feeling is constantly growing on me that I had been the first to hear the greeting of one planet to another.

In a 1901 interview with "The Collier's Weekly," Tesla discussed his experiments and the signals he received. He believed humanity might eventually use his inventions to establish contact with other forms of intelligence. He speculated that the universe was filled with intelligent life and that his technology could bridge the gap between different realms of existence.

Listen to some examples of “voices” that equipment, modeled after that which Tesla was using, captured.

Nearly twenty years would pass, including the first radio transmissions by Reginald Fessenden in 1906 In Massachusetts before Tesla started picking up odd voices again when tinkering with a radio in 1918. He was somewhat more cautious at this time, writing

"The sounds I am listening to every night at first appear to be human voices conversing back and forth in a language I cannot understand. I find it difficult to imagine that I am actually hearing real voices from people not of this planet. There must be a more simple explanation that has so far eluded me.”

And there was a more straightforward explanation that eluded him at the time: The type of radio he used could pick up low-frequency signals from unseen sources like electrical storms, atmospheric disturbances, and household electronics. When translated to audio, these signals could sound like the uncanny chatter of disembodied voices.

Some like to view the Edison-Tesla competition through the lens that Edison was bad and Tesla was good, but that overly simplifies their relationship. But the tension that existed between the two did not extend into spirit phones or communication—despite the desire of modern historians to make it so. As we'll see in a moment, Edison had several theories about the existence of spirits and that they could be detected. As we've seen, Tesla believed that he could detect communication from extraterrestrials.

Despite being a notable agnostic and a critic of the séance-holding mediums popular then, Edison became intrigued by the idea of forces existing beyond our world. In 1920, he revealed to The American Magazine, "I have been at work for some time building an apparatus to see if it is possible for personalities which have left this Earth to communicate with us." This device later became known as his "spirit phone."

As with all his experiments, this one was grounded in science. Edison drew from Albert Einstein's work, particularly his quantum entanglement and particular relativity theories. Edison's reasoning was as follows: if mass can be converted to energy, then perhaps the spirits of living people become coherent units of energy when their bodies cease to function. And if, according to the theory of quantum entanglement, entangled particles can influence each other across vast distances, then perhaps these energy bundles could interact with our physical world.

But even then, Edison seemed relatively confident about talking with spirits. When he was interviewed for the October 30,1920 issue of Scientific American, he expressed his objective,

“I am not promising communication with those who have passed out of this life. I merely state that I am giving the psychic investigators an apparatus which may help them in their work, just as optical experts have given the microscope to the medical world.”

According to an account in the October 1933 publication of the Modern Mechanix magazine, Edison gathered a group of mediums and scientists to participate in an experiment at his Menlo Park laboratory. It stated,

One black, howling wintry night in 1920- just such a night when superstitious people would bar their doors and windows, against marauding ghosts – Thomas Edison, the famous inventive wizard, gathered a small group of scientists in his laboratory to witness his secret attempts to lure spirits from beyond the grave and trap them with instruments of incredible sensitivity.

Until recently only the few favored spectators knew the outcome of this sensational experiment. Only the few Edison intimates, assembled like members of a mystic clan, ever knew what unearthly forms materialized in the scientist's laboratory that night to give proof or disproof of existence beyond the grave.

His guests saw a projector-like machine on a workbench, which emitted a thin light beam onto a photoelectric cell. This cell was designed to detect the presence of forces and objects passing through the beam, even those invisible to the naked eye. Edison explained that if a being from another world attended the gathering and passed through the light, a meter connected to the photoelectric cell would indicate its presence.

The article further stated,

When the experiment was ready to begin Edison called upon the spiritualists in the group of witnesses to summon from eternity the ethereal form of one or two of its inhabitants, and command the spirit to walk across the beam. Then while the spiritualists went through their rites the scientists watched intently the meter of the electric eye, which would flicker the instant any ghostly form interrupted the light beam.

In other words, the spiritualists tried to call into the room the spirits of the deceased and be captured by the mechanism created by Edison.

However, they were disappointed if his guests expected scientific evidence of ghosts. Hours passed, and the needle on the meter remained still. Even the mediums in attendance had to admit that nothing supernatural was happening. But Edison was not discouraged. You’ll recall that Edison is famously reported to have tested over 1,000 different designs for the lightbulb before finding one that worked effectively. While this number is often a testament to his persistence and innovative spirit, some historical accounts suggest that the exact number of experiments might have been fewer. Edison's extensive trial-and-error process ultimately led to developing a practical and long-lasting incandescent light bulb.

Though some skeptics have called his dabbling in the supernatural a hoax, an entry recovered from his diary suggests his pursuits were genuine. He continued working on his so-called "spirit phone" throughout the 1920s.

Edison died in 1931 without producing any more convincing evidence of spirits than the sounds picked up by Tesla's radio decades earlier. However, his quest to transmit a message from the other side using technology didn't end there. Edison had made plans to continue his work after death. He formed a pact with his engineer, William Walter Dinwiddie, agreeing that whoever died first would attempt to make contact with the other. Dinwiddie passed away in 1920, about a decade before Edison, and as far as we know, that marked the end of any correspondence between the two men.

Others of lesser fame than Edison and Tesla also experimented with communicating with the dead via technology in the 20th century.

A few decades after Edison’s death, American photographer Attila von Szalay began recording spirit voices on vinyl records, later transitioning to reel-to-reel tapes. von Szalay was a pioneering figure in paranormal photography and electronic voice phenomena (EVP). Born in Hungary and later moving to the United States, von Szalay began experimenting with recording ghostly voices in the 1940s and 1950s. He is best known for his work with Raymond Bayless, with whom he made some of the earliest documented recordings of what they believed were voices of spirits. These experiments involved using a wire recorder to capture unexplained sounds and voices, which von Szalay and Bayless interpreted as evidence of the supernatural.

You'll recall that while similar, an EVP and a Spirit Box are distinct - EVPs are typically captured using standard audio recording devices such as digital recorders, tape recorders, or even smartphones. Investigators ask questions and leave periods of silence during which spirits are believed to respond. The recordings are later reviewed, and any unexplained voices or sounds not heard during the recording session are identified as potential EVPs. A spirit box rapidly scans through radio frequencies, creating a stream of white noise and snippets of audio from various radio stations. Investigators use the spirit box in real-time, asking questions and listening for relevant responses amidst the noise. The theory is that spirits can manipulate the white noise and fragments of broadcast audio to form coherent words and sentences, allowing responses from a spirit box to be more immediate and interactive, allowing for a real-time conversation.

Friedrich Jürgenson, a Swedish painter and filmmaker, is often credited with being one of the early pioneers of Electronic Voice Phenomena (EVP). In 1959, while recording bird songs in the countryside, Jürgenson claimed to have accidentally recorded the voice of his deceased mother.

Here's how the event reportedly unfolded:

Jürgenson was using a reel-to-reel tape recorder to capture the sounds of birds. When he played back the recording, he heard what he described as a faint, unexplained voice speaking in Norwegian, his mother's native language. Intrigued by this phenomenon, Jürgenson conducted more recording sessions. He continued to capture voices and sounds that he believed were not of human origin. During one of these sessions, he distinctly heard his deceased mother's voice calling him by his childhood nickname and speaking in Norwegian. Jürgenson used essential recording equipment available at the time, such as reel-to-reel tape recorders and microphones. He did not use any special equipment designed to capture paranormal activity, which added to the mystery and authenticity of his experiences in the eyes of many believers. Jürgenson documented his experiences and published "Voices from Space" in 1964, detailing his recordings and theories about communicating with the dead.

Inspired by Jurgenson's work, psychologist Konstantin Raudive conducted extensive EVP research, developing various methods for recording spirit voices under strict laboratory conditions. Raudive's publication "Breakthrough: An Amazing Experiment in Electronic Communication with the Dead" brought wider recognition to EVP phenomena, now often referred to as "Raudive voices."

But what about the modern spirit box that every researcher at the Palmer House hotel deployed in the hall and their rooms that night?For that, we return to Colorado and the life of Frank Sumption, often credited as the creator of the modern spirit box, or Frank's box. 

Part 5

Frank Sumption was born on November 5, 1953, the second child in a large family of 9 children. His father worked for several big aerospace companies including Boeing and Douglas. The work required that the family move frequently but amid the complexity of moving a family of 11, Frank's parents finally decided to make Golden Colorado their home. Frank was quirky as a child but loved solitude and the forest, where he could feel at peace. In the book, Frank Sumption, Creator of the Ghost Box, he reportedly "liked the murmurs he could hear around him…it was like the universe was talking to him."  Frank also loved science and art growing up. He was always thinking and working on his next invention.

When Frank turned 18 in 1971, he enlisted in the U.S. army and married his childhood sweetheart. After a year, Frank was allowed to specialize and was sent to the Redstone Arsenal in Huntsville, Alabama where he received advanced training in missile electrical systems and soon, he was deployed to U.S. base in Germany. After finding a suitable place to live, Frank's wife and four children relocated to Germany in 1975. The family had experienced devastating news earlier that year when their fourth child, Brian, had been diagnosed with meningitis that crippled the baby’s cognitive and physical development. Still Frank and Norma embraced the challenge of helping their disabled son thrive – perhaps as good an indication as any of their true character.

And at this time, Frank and Norma started to notice something odd in their apartment in Germany. It began as just a feeling, a sense that someone was present in one of the rooms in the apartment. This feeling was never fear or unease, but rather a sense of being watched. Over time, Frank and Norma noticed that their disabled son, Brian, would giggle at odd times when he was alone. Their other sons would also mention seeing "the white things". Frank and Norma didn't think much of it until one evening while lying on their bed, they saw something walk past the foot of it. Neither of them was frightened by what they saw; instinctively, they felt that the spirit meant no harm if that's what it was.

As the family became more accustomed to what they called the "White Apparition," they realized it was protecting them, especially Brian. Instinctively, they felt as though it was female. Brian, who continued to struggle to speak, seemed to be communicating with the spirit through thoughts and feelings. The family could always tell when the spirit was around because a calm, soothing presence would settle over them. They could occasionally see her move around the small apartment, but she was never visible when she was with the boys or Brian.

Curious about their benevolent ghost, Frank and Norma spoke with other tenants in the building. They discovered that the spirit had been attached to the property for as long as anyone could remember. This kind soul seemed to have taken it upon herself to protect all the children living in the apartment complex, with a particular fondness for Brian. Perhaps it was due to his disability or innocence, but Frank and Norma knew that Brian could see the gentle spirit clearly when others could only catch glimpses.

When the Sumptions moved out of the apartment and into base housing a year after arriving in Germany, the thing they missed most was the calmness they felt in the presence of their guardian spirit.

Released from the army, the family moved back to Colorado. In 1989, another tragedy occurred when their son, Frank Junior, was murdered, while with another son, Chad, a witness to the horrific event. The loss of their son, coupled with the stress of the murder trial and media, devastated Frank and Norma. Frank, already quiet, became more introverted, throwing himself into work. 

And then the dreams started. His dreams of his son were incredibly lucid. Frank felt that the dreams were not simply a way of his subconscious dealing with the loss of his son but actually how his son was trying to communicate with him. It was in this frame of mind that Frank came up with a way to communicate with his son—a device that would bear his, and for that matter, his son's name—Frank's Box. 

Frank applied all of the technical skills he had gained over the years, his love of C.B. radios, and his knowledge of electronics to build the first prototype. He felt that the knowledge had always been in his mind, but the urgency of his son's need for communication drove him to implement his vision. 

While this first one was rudimentary, the prototype had all the elements that the current Spirit box contains today – a radio receiver, a sweep function, an antenna, a speaker and an audio output.

Today, when you watch an experienced Spirit Box user at work, they will ask questions about the spirit they seek to communicate with to prompt a response. Frank thought that asking spirits questions would confuse them; therefore, it was best to leave the device on and listen. He told a good friend,

"Don't ask questions like most people do. I think that by asking questions, it seems like we are trying to control the entities. I like to have the box on while I am working on other boxes. I don't glorify this stuff or try to make it into some kind of magic box. It's a radio."

Frank utilized this prototype box as a medium to communicate with his son, Frank Jr. Through this device, he received messages assuring him that his son was okay, watching over the family, and helping in any way he could to improve their lives. Frank maintained this communication with his son for several years, but over time, the messages gradually dwindled until they ceased entirely.

Although the messages stopped, it didn't signify Frank Jr.'s departure. The family frequently felt his presence, even after relocating to a new home. It was never clear to Frank and Norma why the communication stopped through the spirit box. Perhaps Frank Jr. no longer felt the need to communicate verbally. Maybe he understood that his family, particularly his brother, had come to terms with their loss and could move forward with their lives. The exact reason for his silence remains unknown to Frank Jr. but the family continued to cherish his memory.

Frank's extensive knowledge of electronics and his conviction that he could communicate with the spirit world drove him to explore more effective methods of achieving this communication. He immersed himself in research, devouring any material he could find on the subject. He frequented the library, scouring its shelves for relevant books. He surfed the fledgling Internet, visited bookstores to comb through the science section, and perused every magazine that might lead to discoveries. And he came to believe that he could communicate with spirits, and like Tesla, he could receive communication from extraterrestrials.

During one of these scientific quests to improve his spirit box, he stumbled upon an issue of Popular Electronics that contained exactly what he had been searching for. The magazine featured an article detailing a circuit that would allow his early communication box to function without a human hand spinning the dial. Excited by this breakthrough, Frank eagerly bought the magazine, rushed home, and exclaimed to his wife, "Norma, I can do this!"

Ultimately Frank would build over 180 of his spirit boxes. For a time, his fame outreached his business sense as some unscrupulous ghost hunters would ask for a box for free for testing, only for Frank to find it listed on ebay or other auction site. But gradually, he started to protect his work, even while making each of his creations unique. Frank passed away on August 16, 2014, having  spawned a product that tens of thousands use worldwide. And Frank's once handcrafted boxes are now manufactured at scale like any other household electronic device. But their purpose, like Frank's prototype, remains the same…to communicate with those who have passed beyond this mortal existence. And Frank's motivation springs from the same source that has driven much of the spiritualist movement over the last 2 centuries – a desire to reconnect with our loved ones. 

We may, of course, rightly debate over the reality of the stories we've explored here. Did Athenodorus see a ghost who led him to his murdered remains? Is the Palmer House Hotel truly haunted? Can spirits communicate to the living through any number of electronic devices?

But Frank’s motivation reflects the motivation of hundreds of millions who had grieved at the loss of loved ones, suffered at their departure from mortality. This motivation, I understand. Just this weekend, at the funeral of a cousin, I was able to visit my dear mother's grave in Alta Wyoming. Sitting in the grass at her gravestone, we had a long talk. Of course, it was one sided, but I know that her spirit still lives, that she will be resurrected into a perfected body someday. And, until that day, I relish the opportunity to have a two-way conversation when I, too, have passed beyond the veil.  

Thank you for listening to My Dark Path. I'm MF Thomas, creator and host, and I produce the show with our creative director, Dom Purdie. I wrote this episode with the help of our new senior story editor, Nikki Barnes. I'm grateful for the entire team at My Dark Path. Until next time my friends, good night.