Freaky Haunts of Monkton Maryland Part 1

“I’m pretty sure my house in Florida is haunted! He’s a nice ghost though”. – Ariana Grande

The great State of Maryland is where I have lived my whole life. I currently live in Northern Baltimore County not too far from the Pennsylvania line.

I live in a tiny community called Monkton which has a population just under 5000 people. I have lived here for over three years and I can tell you that much paranormal activity is around here.

Monktonites like their peace and privacy so that is why there aren’t any gas stations or convenience stores in the area.

But there is plenty of land, horses, farms and paranormal activity.

Monkton was once the hunting and camping grounds of the Piscataway Indians.

Whenever I think of Native Americans in a spooky Halloweeny type way I think of Ancient burial grounds and curses. I don’t know, maybe I watched too many scary movies as a child.

My home for instance is an older farmhouse that was owned by the same family for over 75 years; that is until the previous owner, Mrs. Hall, died in the house.

Monkton Farm House

Mrs. Hall was an African-American woman whose Uncle or father had built this house back in 1935. Mrs Hall’s husband died in the late 70’s so that meant that Mrs Hall had probably lived alone for many years.

Being an empath, I pick up on subtle variations of energy around me. I can literally feel the mood of a person, an object, or a place.

So when I finally had a little alone time in my new home I immediately began to “feel it out.”

What I mainly felt were feelings of sadness.

It was like a very lonely feeling which would make sense because Mrs. Hall was probably alone towards the end of her life and the house was vacant for over a year after she passed away.

Homes as well as people have energy.

So I don’t know if I was picking up the residual energy left from Mrs. Hall or if it was the energy of the home that I was feeling.

The section of Monkton that I live in is known as My Lady’s Manor.

Before Monkton was Monkton it was called Charlotte Town for a short time. Later it was named after another “Monkton” in Nova Scotia Canada.

My Lady’s Manor was named In 1713. Charles Calvert the third Baron of Baltimore, decreed 10,000 acres for himself.

He made a gift of this land to his fourth wife, calling the estate, “My Lady’s Manor.” It was added to the National register of historic places in 1978.

But enough of the history lesson here- So let’s get back to the story.

My house, the one next to it and the one next to that were all owned by the same family.

Apparently the land where I live was given to freed slaves and naturally they built their own little community on the land that was given to them in the 1800’s.

Most of the original families had died or moved away but I have been privileged enough to have met some of the original descendants.

A cousin of Mrs Hall whose house was at one time  next  to mine, was demolished after she passed away and two brand new (McMansion) homes were built on her property.

Next to the two brand new mega- homes that were built is a tiny home with wood shingles that sits abandoned to this day.

It’s kind of sad to see it there abandoned and neglected. This home was also at one time owned by a relative of Mrs Hall.

My home sat on the market for a year before I bought it.

It was being sold “as is” which is code for – it needs a hell of a lot of work. So before my family could move in I had to do some major renovations to the house.

This meant being alone here many, many late nights. It took me almost two months of working on my home everyday before my family could move in.

Now keep in mind I had lived in a townhouse surrounded by tons of people before moving to Monkton.

My Monkton house sits on an acre and a quarter of land (the size of a football field) and it is surrounded by woods.

Across the street from my house is an old AME church that has been there since the 1800’s, and there is a Cemetery behind it, and – oh, by the way; I believe that Mrs. Hall is buried there too!

So here I am working late at night in an unfamiliar area, I don’t know anyone yet, there’s a cemetery across the street with the previous owner buried in the ground there and I am an empath in an older, spooky home filled with mice and spiders and that is also in dire need of restoration.

So, I was working in the basement one evening and out of the blue I got this heavy feeling in my chest. I wanted to make sure that it wasn’t from just being tired or from drinking too much coffee.

I went outside to get some fresh air and I was fine. So after getting some fresh air I decided to get back to work in the basement.

When I get back down there, I get this heavy feeling again in my chest.

Now my paranormal senses are on overload. I have these energetic shifts in my body and my mind is freaking out wanting to know what is going on.

So I begin to calm myself by taking some deep breaths and using accupressure points on my arm. Finally I began to sense some balance in myself when all of a sudden …

To be continued…

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