Spare Change?

As anyone who has a healthy amount of skepticism would, I tend to search for logical explanations for things, even for the crazy occurrences that frequent Shaker’s. All too many times here, though, I turn up empty-handed in my search.

I was just about to begin with the divining rods on my 2.0 Ghost Tour late on a Saturday night when I, along with all those present in my almost-full tour group, heard what sounded like change falling onto the basement concrete ground. The two gentlemen to my right, where the noise came from, looked behind them at their feet.

“Did you drop something?” I asked. They simultaneously exclaimed that no, they had not.

I checked all the rings on my fingers to make sure one had not flown off – as I tend to be very animated when I talk and that would not be the first time that’s happened. The sound could’ve resembled a ring falling, but all of mine were in-tact.

As my tour group all looked at each other, clearly a bit spooked, I picked up the rods. That’s when we heard the noise again – this time, a bit louder and further back.

“I wonder if maybe there are screws falling out of something back there,” I rationalized as logical de-bunking senses told me to. I went over to the area to investigate, but there was nothing over there that seemed to need screws. The ground was bare aside from the normal dirt that settles on our cellar basement floors. As I continue my search, another loud coin-dropping sound came from the other side of the room, behind a woman who jumped at the sound. I then realized that this was likely something beyond rational explanation.

I decided that my investigation would be best executed by using the rods.

“Is there a spirit down here who is trying to get our attention?” The rods crossed for yes. “Are you making the clinking sound that we’re all hearing?” Yes again. “Are you a resident spirit?” Yes. “Please point to where you are in the room.” The rods first pointed to where the most recent sound was heard, then to the corner of the room where two bodies remain huddled up together under the concrete. I deducted that the energy making the noise was likely one of those two men – who likely lost their lives at the hands of the Capone’s. He didn’t want to speak with me further after that.

As I wrapped up that portion of the tour, my group and I started heading back upstairs. We didn’t get far when we heard another coin dropping sound.