Paranormal State: My Journey into the Unknown (2 page)

That was the first thing that stood out. I could hardly believe that the organization contacting me to speak was a university-recognized student group. Maybe that’s not so hard to accept now, but when I was in college, we had trouble trying to get the university to sanction a gaming group, let alone something devoted to the investigation of ghosts, demons, and the occult. Yet somehow Ryan Buell had managed to do it, at a major university in the mountains of central Pennsylvania. It was a fight at first, and not everyone welcomed the idea of the Paranormal Research Society with open arms. To this day, it has its detractors, but Ryan never let this stop him. He wanted to make changes in the field of paranormal research, and he knew that those changes would happen only through dedication and perseverance.

When I learned that Ryan Buell was the founding force behind the Paranormal Research Society, I wasn’t sure what to think. From what I saw of him during my first UNIV-CON, he seemed quiet, earnest, and even a little shy. I could not imagine what had inspired this clean-cut Catholic boy to develop such a passion for the paranormal. I was curious to learn more, but at first our very different faiths kept us from connecting well. I spent a lot more time getting to know Josh, Eilfie, and even tech specialist and photographer Serg Poberezhny. Ryan was the quiet guy who politely acknowledged my existence just as he went dashing off to handle some administrative business.

I was still very much on the fringe of things when the first season of
Paranormal State
began. I interacted with Ryan only rarely. Most of my communication with PRS involved answering questions behind the scenes for a couple of their early episodes (mostly when Eilfie felt that I might have more resources in my occult library on a certain topic than she had on hand). Obviously, as the years went by, my involvement grew, until now when I’m pretty much an honorary team member. But that initial outsider perspective allowed me to watch the people of the Paranormal Research Society change and grow as
Paranormal State
really took off. Ryan’s journey through this process was perhaps the most fascinating of all.

Judging by the content of some reality television shows, there are those who’d literally sell their own mothers for a shot at those proverbial fifteen minutes of fame. A lot of people who see Ryan Buell on
Paranormal State
assume he started out
wanting
to be a star, pursuing the show for nothing more than attention, money, and celebrity. But this projected image stands in stark contrast to the reality of the person I’ve come to know.

It’s probably difficult to imagine from the other side of the television screen, but Ryan is an intensely private individual. Although he can handle himself eloquently in front of a crowd, deep down he’s actually rather shy and introspective. He takes his work with
Paranormal State
very seriously, but would genuinely prefer to stay at home, far from the limelight, quietly writing and taking time now and then to enjoy the company of his close friends and his beloved dog. The important thing to remember about television is that every show—even reality-based documentary shows like
Paranormal State—
sets out to tell a story. That story, however, is just one thread in the extremely rich tapestry of a person’s life. There’s always more to be told.

This book reveals much more of Ryan’s story, and it’s a story that needs to be told. There are sides to him that never really come to the forefront of the show, mainly because only so much can be condensed into twenty-two minutes. For anyone who wants to understand the reasons behind his involvement with
Paranormal State
, as well as more about the investigations themselves, this book is crucial.

I believe that one reason for the show’s success is that Ryan did not pursue
Paranormal State
for the attention or even the monetary incentives it offered. In fact, Ryan is the type of person who would gladly sacrifice his position on the show in the interest of integrity. He’s fought long and hard to keep the show as real and honest as possible so that it can continuously push boundaries that educate, inform, and open people’s minds to new and sometimes radical possibilities. For Ryan, it’s all about the message and the good it can do. It’s a message that ties back to Ryan’s early years, back when he was a scared little boy, lying awake at night wondering what sort of terror haunted him in the dark. Now, as an adult,
Paranormal State
has offered him the very best vehicle for getting that message out to the world: It’s not your imagination.

Michelle Belanger

Author of
The Ghost Hunter’s Survival Guide

Introduction

I don’t know about you, but my parents never hoped I’d grow up to be a paranormal investigator. When I was young I was told that there’s no such thing as ghosts. For my own reasons, I didn’t buy it. Nor should you, whether it’s from your parents or a scientist who thinks he has all the answers. Truth is, like with everything else, no one can give you all the answers. You have to find them for yourself.

When I meet with people or speak at a college, most hope I have the one piece of evidence or testimony that definitively proves the existence of life after death. But I don’t. All I have are my stories and experiences, sometimes with really compelling evidence to go along. Do I want to find the smoking gun that proves God exists, that we’re not alone in the universe, or that we survive after death? Always. But that’s only part of my search.

If you’ve watched the TV show
Paranormal State
, which documents our cases, you know that I had paranormal experiences as a child. Not just one, but several. My mother was open-minded about it, to a point. I think it genuinely frightened her. I remember her calling members of my family and asking for advice. They didn’t exactly know how to handle a child who claimed to see things, so they did what they thought best. They told me to ignore it and did the same themselves.

After the experiences had gone on for a while, I had a meeting with my Catholic priest. Although he was a very kind man, he wasn’t helpful. I don’t think he knew what to say. He seemed glib, like he didn’t believe me, and just told me to pray more. I remember being baffled by that, because he was, after all, a man of God. If he didn’t have the answers, then who did?

In time, as my encounters escalated, my mother decided it was easiest to ignore them. I even recall the moment it felt like she stopped believing me. She never came out and said it at the time, but it was there, on her face, in her body language. Everyone I reached out to couldn’t, or wouldn’t, help me. I was on my own. Even though the terror continued, I gave up.

To my surprise, as quickly as the phenomena started, they stopped. Completely. I don’t know what upset me more: the torment or the fact that it had ended without explanation.

My life did not go back to normal. I tried as hard as I could to forget, and for a while I did. But I was angry—angry at my family for acting like nothing happened or that it was all a joke, angry at myself for being victimized, angry that no one believed me. It strained my relationship with my family and friends. I didn’t trust anyone.

In the end, I was able to find a way to bottle it all up. The anger was still there, of course, but over time I forgot why. My family and I continued to fight. And my behavior became somewhat destructive. For the most part, though, as I got older I tried to blend in and be normal. Then, when I was around fifteen, something great happened.

I picked up a book by legendary investigators Ed and Lorraine Warren. Reading about their lives felt like a trip around the world. From haunted dolls to demonic possession, it was all there, complete with documentation and testimony. Hungry for more, I soon discovered the works of Dr. Hans Holzer, John Keel, and even Carl Sagan. Almost everyone had a differing viewpoint, but they had one thing in common: They were dedicated to pursuing answers about the unknown.

The Internet was just becoming a household phenomenon. When we finally got our computer online, as I was turning sixteen, I discovered an even bigger world. To my amazement, there were ghost hunters and investigators all over the country. I can easily remember listening to my first EVP (electronic voice phenomenon), seeing my first ghost photograph, and more important, realizing for the first time that I was not alone.

A single, overpowering thought invaded my mind. I’d become an investigator. I’d find my own answers about what I’d experienced, solve mysteries around the world, and, along the way, help people out.

A childhood friend, Christina (Chris for short), was my first partner. She also happened to be a staunch skeptic. She kept my feet on the ground—or tried to, anyway—as I searched the wondrous state of South Carolina for ghosts, ghouls, and lizard people (South Carolina had lizard man sightings in the late 1980s). For three years I investigated churches, cemeteries, and old, abandoned (and of course, creepy) buildings.

In those first days I found cases mainly by asking around—talking to friends and neighbors about local hauntings. There were a few times though that I did have more inventive moments, and actually posed as a reporter. Well, technically I
was
the managing editor of the high school paper,
The Cock’s Quill
, and had the school ID.

There was one particular place I was interested in—a plantation that was rumored to be haunted—but I was told the owner was vehemently against discussing it. Christina was the school photography editor, so she and I knocked on the door and said we were doing a feature on fantastic places in Sumter. The owner let us in. As Chris took pictures, I asked about the history and so on, but eventually I got to my questions about the ghosts, and it worked out fine. That was a little trick I used a few times, even in college. Personal quest aside, I was just having fun investigating and unafraid of the consequences.

Like a lot of life dreams, though, things didn’t work out exactly as I pictured. I didn’t come up with many answers. In fact, I wanted to believe that there was
something
there so badly, at times I overlooked more obvious natural explanations. If something even
seemed
paranormal—creaking floorboards, winds—I was easily convinced it was. I’ve since learned that finding those more common explanations always comes first. Having faith in the existence of the paranormal, like faith in anything, means believing that it can stand up to honest skepticism.

Nowadays, I’m far from being a ghost hunter, going out only to document evidence or look for thrills. Most of my clients, the families I meet, aren’t just looking for that scientific validation. They want to grasp what’s happening to them, and, if possible, find a resolution. They need to be understood and helped. And that’s what I try to do.

The skeptics’ best reason for condemning paranormal experiences is always sadly lacking: If they didn’t see it, it can’t be true. Some can’t even believe things they
do
see. I know. I spent the first sixteen years of my life trying to deny what I knew in my heart to be true—that there
is
something out there. That’s why I don’t immediately laugh when a child tells me he saw a monster claw its way out from underneath his bed, or write a woman off as crazy when she says she’s hearing voices or having visions.

It may be the nature of the unknown to remain unknown, even unknowable. That doesn’t mean the veil between the worlds doesn’t slide back now and again, letting a select few see behind it, creating experiences that change them forever.

That doesn’t mean I always take everyone at his or her word. Even though I want to believe—in ghosts, demons, beasts, and little green men—I’m not just going to buy anything. I’ve got standards, you know! But when the other side comes knocking, I can’t ignore it, especially when it breaks down my door and invites itself in.

It’s important to point out, though, that the way things look to me and what someone watching
Paranormal State
sees aren’t always the same thing. Like any television series, in the interests of time and good entertainment, the show presents reality through a particular lens. Out of more than forty-eight hours or more of tape, the talented producers and editors have to boil the story down to twenty-two minutes. I wish I could say that I’m always that sensitive, caring, and selfless person seen on the show every week, but I’d be lying through my teeth.

My original reason for investigating was completely selfish. I wanted answers for myself. I wanted to find the darkest side of the paranormal and confront it. It’s like that scene in
Twister
, when Helen Hunt’s character (who’d seen her father and home destroyed by a tornado when she was a child) disregards her own safety just to get closer to the center of the tornado. She
had
to see it, no matter the cost.

The paranormal experiences I had as a child were like that tornado. If you find that laughable, don’t worry. I won’t get offended. Most of my high school peers thought it was a joke, too.

So despite what some might believe, I didn’t become a paranormal investigator to do a TV show. Exploring the unknown is something I’ll be doing until I find the resolution I’m looking for, until I have my answers.