BY PHILLIP SUITTS

When I walked into the entrance area at Rhodes Hall, I looked around and realized the night might not pan out exactly as I expected. I had given up a Friday night with friends to cover an event first described as an “exorcism” and then as a “ghost hunt.”

I was not expecting a celebrity meet and greet.

Behind me, a line stretching across two rooms led to two tables.  Pictures were being snapped and autographs signed.

The only problem was I didn’t recognize these celebrities. These were “ghost hunter” celebrities, and I was feeling severely underprepared. I started frantically texting my brother and some of my friends, asking them to google “Ghost Hunters” and provide me with some information.

Luckily, before I had to interview the “celebrities,” I was given free access to the upstairs rooms. As I moved from room to room  snapping pictures I  realized I was alone. I began to feel a little apprehensive. And then as I walked into a room and took a picture, something weird happened.

The camera malfunctioned and took the picture a full 10 to 15 seconds later.

On top of that the picture didn’t come out right. Light was scattered, blurring the object that was supposed to be in focus. I quickly took another photo, which came out fine, calming my nerves.

That turned out to be the scariest part of the night,  not the most interesting.

As the night dragged on and on and on, I began to wonder if these people truly believed in ghosts and psychics, especially when I overheard comments like, “So do you have any psychic abilities?” and saw people with their own equipment for the “ghost hunt.”

Of course, not everyone ardently believed in the supernatural. There was a couple that seemed to treat the event as a joke, and I met one woman who told me “at least I’ll have a story to tell.”

Sadly, I don’t have many stories. The “ghost hunt,” which I had looked forward to, was a let-down.

As we crowded into a room downstairs, I saw everyone else migrating toward a machine that suddenly lit up. Apparently, this meant a “ghost” was in the room. Just as I was beginning to wonder if this could get any weirder, it did.

Someone took out a radio that was moving in between stations and told us that whenever we asked a question to the “ghost,” it would answer through the radio. Someone shouted out, “What’s your name?”

30 seconds later, as the radio was switching stations, someone said, “I just heard Anna. The girl’s name is Anna.”

To my surprise, everyone agreed. Never mind that numerous words were said, in numerous other voices,  before that person supposedly heard the world “Anna.”  I had enough. There was nary a scare nor a hint of ghosts, so I decided it was time to go home and get some sleep.

Reflecting on the event the next day I realized it wasn’t a total waste. I did get to see how the other half, the paranormal half, lives. But that doesn’t mean I want to live like them.