The year so far... (by Andrew Wooding)

Being April Fools’ Day, it’s probably appropriate to take a quick look back at the year so far for two fools in Sheffield (three if you count the ghost).

2010 started out rather encouragingly, with what you might call a media frenzy. Our friend Martin Dawes of The Star gave us another nice write-up, which you can see here. He says: ‘So far, despite their best efforts, the duo have been spook-free. But that doesn't stop them trying.’

We also did an extensive interview on The Paul and Spike Show, but unfortunately a gremlin (or was it a ghost?) crept into the Skype line, rendering the entire interview unusable. The proof of the pudding can be found in the short extract 24½ minutes into the finished podcast (which can be found here), in which Mike and I sound like we’re gabbling in tongues or channelling the spirit of the late lamented Pingu.

As for the rest of the media frenzy, well … er … that’s it.

But to compensate, we’ve started bunging stuff up on YouTube. (Check us out on The 2MG's Channel.) There’s our two-part visit to Sheffield General Cemetery, including reader feedback and an exploration of Egyptian mythology. The visit seemed like a good idea at the time, except Sheffield General Cemetery turned out to be the muddiest place in Sheffield that evening, and it was so dark that you couldn’t see any of the background in the finished videos, just our noses as we shone torches at each other. Actually, big secret now: we shot the whole thing in the broom cupboard at 2MG Mansions. (And if you believe that...)

There’s also our three-part video set in the basement (or ‘the stacks’) of Sheffield Central Library. Watch Mike explain the music hall background of the library’s location on Surrey Street; see us get distracted by various titles on the shelves, including an exhaustive book on tripe; and look out for various ghosts hovering in the background of the video (or are they just random librarians trundling along with trolleys of books?).

That’s it so far. So what about the remaining three-quarters of the year? Rest assured, there’s lots of good stuff to look forward to, and we might even finally spot a ghost.

In the immediate future, there’s more YouTube videos in the pipeline, the start of a regular lively podcast with a brilliant spooky theme tune, more ‘Real or Surreal?’ features from Mike, and my spine-tingling account of our recent nocturnal excursion to Hagg Hill in Sheffield. There we found our new nemesis. Move aside, Mad Monk of Stockbridge. Our latest foe is…

Ah, but that would be telling.

2MG Ghost Hunt - Sheffield Central Library (3 of 3)

2MG Ghost Hunt - Sheffield Central Library (2 of 3)

2MG Ghost Hunt - Sheffield Central Library (1 of 3)

A closer look at Sheffield Central Library, part 2 (by Mike Kazybrid)

In the first installment of my findings about Sheffield Central Library (read about it here), I mentioned that the library opened in July 1934. When I visited with Wooders, I was taken aback by so much that obviously remained of the original: the oak and walnut library furniture with its custom designed wooden shelves and fittings, not to mention the beautiful art deco lights that greeted us in the foyer.

After we had left the ladies loo - (er, you do remember that Wooders and I were only in there to check out one of the many ghost stories ... don't you?) - we wandered beneath ground to the area I was looking forward to most, namely the Stacks.

It's a wonderful maze, consisting of what appears to be miles of shelving, two book lifts and a chute which is used to transport books from the Stacks to the main library. Six strong rooms protect the rare and old valuable books, anything from world-renowned volumes on patents to detailed tomes on metallurgy. White lines can be seen leading to the strong rooms so that if there is a fire, the valuable books can be quickly removed.

It was in this area that yet another paranormal appearance took place, but nothing in Victorian garb. The strange dark mass which appeared to librarian Eunice somehow contained light and energy, but didn't give the same sense of welcome that the other spectral visitors seemed to offer.

Another ghostly encounter moved me to dig more deeply into its possible origins. As already mentioned. Eunice and another staff member recalled that they were working in the main reception area when they were suddenly interrupted by a voice clearly calling to them by name. Having quickly established that one hadn't called the other and that they were equally alone, a sudden strong and wonderful scent of flowers seemed to fill the room.

Attempting to locate the source of the beautiful odour, Eunice had checked outside the doors, but that revealed nothing. All that continued to remain was the smell of a bouquet of flowers which could not be readily named.

‘The game's afoot, Wooders old chum!’ said I when we recounted this story to each other after our library visit.

We realised that following this up required a different approach to our normal methods. Wooders agreed that our usual equipment - consisiting of a wind-up torch, variety packs of crisps, various choccie bars and a well-chewed biro - would not suffice. I was just grateful it was winter so I wouldn’t have to endure my hay fever!

Having knocked on the doors of various companies and individuals, seeking information on popular flowers of the Victorian period, that veritable wizard of floristry, Shaun Lawrence, kindly mentioned that primroses or violas would be popular in spring through early summer, and possibly lavender later in the summer.

If you remember, the site of Sheffield Central Library used to be home to a thriving music hall. Imagine in the grand old music hall days a lady in Victorian dress about to leave, following a wonderful evening of entertainment. To complete the evening, her husband rushes to purchase a bouquet from the young girl selling flowers outside.

Could the good folks at Sheffield Central library have caught a glimpse of past events? Could the barrier between then and now somehow have weakened in the vicinity of the library? Do the people from the past somehow glimpse the people from now, and vice versa?

I was both pleased and grateful when leading parapsychologist, Rosemary Breen in Australia, offered encouragement and advice. She was introducing us to the subject of clairalience ('clear smelling') which is the alleged phenomenon of sensitive people smelling the odour of a person not on the same plane as ourselves. This could cover items such as tobacco, food and flowers. Some even profess to smell the places where the deceased person worked - ie, a factory, the docks or a mill.

(For more on Rosemary Breen, visit her here.)

The spectral visitors at Sheffield Central Library somehow break the rules: ghosts that appear during the daytime; ghosts that seek to interact. Whatever their reason, it doesn't really matter. Their presence only adds to what is truly a beautiful building with a depth of history freely offered to the city of Sheffield.

But how will Wooders and I feel when left alone in the Stacks with only a Twix and a wind-up torch between us? For that, you'll have to wait for the next part of our library adventure…

A closer look at Sheffield Central Library, part 1 (by Mike Kazybrid)

Late last year, we were invited to check out certain paranormal events at Sheffield Central Library. Why do ghosts walk amongst those engaged in the daily life of the library? To read the account of our visit, go here. Since then, Mike has been doing some research on the history of Sheffield Central Library. Why has he been doing this - and what has he discovered? Here are some of his findings!

The music hall

When we first became aware of one of the library ghosts, Wooders and I stood in the place which all men hold to be a great mystery … namely, the ladies’ loo! The enchanting story of Eunice, a staff member, suddenly coming upon a lady dressed in full Victorian outfit in this very room, sparked off my imagination. Not only that, but the first of a number of questions that were to haunt me in the following weeks.

In order to begin our journey, we'll have to travel back in time to 1823. A number of memorable events were happening that year.

On 13th April, we find an eleven-year-old Franz Liszt who, having come to the end of a concert, is congratulated by Ludwig Van Beethoven.

15th July sees the Papal Basilica of Saint Paul Outside the Walls in Rome almost totally destroyed by fire.

On 22nd September, the world of religion is introduced to Joseph Smith Jr, who declares that God has directed him through the angel, Moroni, to the very place where the Golden Plates are stored. These were purportedly bound and engraved metal plates that would become his source for the Book of Mormon.

And while all these things were taking place in the world, a music hall was being built on Surrey Street in Sheffield, England, in the exact same place that the Sheffield Central Library would be located a century later.

It was the clear description of the ghost of a Victorian lady, standing with her back to Eunice, that provoked various questions in me. The first was: What exactly was she staring at? Whilst she might have been occupying the same space, maybe she wasn't occupying the same time.

What also made these ghosts very interesting … though I’m not by any means suggesting that some ghosts are boring … what I mean by that is, I don't believe we'll ever encounter the ghost of a stamp or envelope collector. Oh great, now I've put my foot in it. As I can't dig my pit any deeper, I'll move on... (Apologies to readers of our blog who engage in the act of philately.)

My meaning is that these ghosts would freely interact with certain members of library staff. They would walk down the back stairs, sharing greetings or bidding someone goodnight.

Had our Victorian ghost come to the end of a very enjoyable concert? After all, the music hall was used as a venue for a great deal of variety shows, as well as oratorios and concerts performed by local choirs. Perhaps she’d had the pleasure of seeing luminaries such as Paganini or Liszt, who had once appeared there.

Who knows what her social standing was? The hall wasn't there just for the middle class audience; thanks to reduced prices, it also allowed the working class of the day to enjoy the same music.

It wasn't just a concert hall. It was a building that provided rooms for the Mechanics Institute. It was also a place where the local Literary and Philosophical Society would meet, inviting the greats of the day, such as Charles Dickens and Wilkie Collins to perform readings.

Graves mail order company

I'd spent so much time considering the possible connection of the library ghosts to a bygone musical era, that I had to remind myself of a very important man who, if not looked into, would make my research incomplete.

The man was John George Graves, who was born in Lincolnshire in 1866. It wasn't the fact that he had once been one of Sheffield's Lord Mayors, nor that he had once received the Freedom of the City in 1929, that makes him so memorable.

It was the fact that in Sheffield he established one of the first mail order businesses in the country, selling a wide range of goods. At its peak, he employed 3,000 staff, producing an annual turnover of £1 million. After he died in Sheffield in 1945, the company was absorbed by Great Universal Stores.

Sheffield Central Library

Things were changing, and the building that housed the music hall and the Mechanics Institute was to take on a new life as the original public library. Although the Mechanics Institute had its own private library, Sheffield became the first place in Yorkshire - in fact the 11th in the country - to create its own dedicated lending library for the use of the public.

Graves was a very keen art collector, and certain monies of his - almost £60,000 - were donated towards the development of art galleries in Sheffield. This would include Sheffield Central Library.

The small cutlery works in Surrey Street’s neighbour, Tudor Square, contributed to this area developing into the city’s cultural quarter.

And then, in July 1934, the proud new building of the Sheffield Central Library was opened.

If by now you're thinking you’ve logged on to Two Men and a Local History Book by mistake, you'd be wrong! It's not enough to blog about the ghost in a Victorian dress. (Nope, I'm not referring to my great grandmother!) In order to understand what this represents, you've got to check out the past … their past.

(You’ve also got to check out part two of Mike’s findings, to be posted in the next few days…)

Daytime ghosts at the Sheffield Central Library (by Andrew Wooding)

Every self-respecting ghost-hunter has a certain item on their DVD shelf. Can you guess what it is?

Ghostbusters, of course, the blockbusting movie from 1984 which is uncannily accurate in every way and serves as a visual representation of the serious art of seeking out spooks. (Or at least how we want it to be rather than the sad reality.)

If you’ve seen it as many times as I have (I’ve also watched the commentary, deleted scenes, trailers and bonus documentaries), you’ll know that the film’s first glimpse of the supernatural happens in the basement of the New York Public Library.

The librarian on duty down there is attacked from all sides by hundreds of flying index cards. And our intrepid heroes are confronted with a tall uneven stack of books which has no earthly explanation (other than the merest possibility that a bored member of staff might have just stacked them there for a laugh).

Naturally, then, you can understand my delight when I heard from Mike that we’d been granted a guided tour of Sheffield Central Library’s basement (known as ‘the stacks’). He’d heard that some of the staff had seen strange things down there, so he’d got in touch and they’d kindly invited us along to have a gander.

I got there early on the day in question, so I drooled over the wares on offer in the DVD/CD lending room, then hovered round the graphic novels section, browsing my favourite titles.

A lady on staff came up to me and asked: ‘Can I help you, sir?’

‘No, ta,’ I thanked her and smiled. ‘Just looking.’

Come the time of our appointment, I trundled back to the foyer and found the very same lady standing there with her colleague. They were looking down at their watches, looking up at the library’s entrance, looking down at their watches again, and so on, as if they were expecting to see someone.

‘Excuse me,’ I said. ‘Are you waiting for the ghost blog people?’

The lady smiled and shook my hand.

‘I knew it was you!’ she announced.

I’m still not sure what it was about me that gave the game away. My jacket? My hairstyle? My general demeanour? I’m now paranoid that whenever I’m out and about, children and grown-ups alike are laughing and pointing at me, whispering: ‘Hey, look. That man over there. He’s a ghost-hunter. It’s obvious!’

The lady in question was Eunice Heathcote, who’d worked at Sheffield Central Library for ten years, and in her time (in common with many of the staff there) she’d spotted a number of ghostly figures roaming around the premises.

Eunice was delightful as she chatted away, and so was her colleague, Linda Greenwood. Linda had been at the library for a year and hadn’t had the same experiences as Eunice, so she was just as fascinated by Eunice’s tales as I was.

A few minutes into our chat, Mike burst through the library doors.

‘Sorry I’m late!’ he yelled.

He was hot, flustered and sweaty. Parking had been nigh on impossible in town that morning. Spaces were like gold dust, but as soon as he’d found one he’d parked his car there and raced on over to us as fast as he could.

Shaking hands with Eunice and Linda, wheezing, panting and wiping his brow, we were escorted to our first port of call: the staff women’s toilets. (The places that self-respecting ghost-hunters have to check out in order to do their research…)

Turns out that Eunice had been in there one day when she spotted a lady standing in one of the cubicles, as solid as you or I. She definitely wasn’t a member of staff, and she was garbed in vivid, bright-coloured period dress (was it Victorian?). Eunice had turned to the sink for an instant, then turned back quickly and the lady had gone! There was no way she could have left the cubicle and sneaked out the door in the half second or less that Eunice had turned away.

Brilliant story, but I don’t know what unsettled me more. Eunice’s unusual tale, or the fact that Mike and I were standing right in the middle of the women’s loos, scared that we’d be caught at any moment!

The second port of call was the basement itself: ‘the stacks’.

As we entered, Eunice reassured us: ‘Don’t worry. You won’t get attacked by flying cards or books!’ (So she’d seen Ghostbusters as well. Excellent!)

For a book lover like me, ‘the stacks’ was pure heaven. Rows upon rows of shelves piled high with books and other publications as far as the eye could see. I could quite happily have spent days in there.

There were lots of dark corners and narrow shadowy corridors for ghosts to hide in. Except they didn’t hide. Staff would often see people down here, again in period dress. And it seemed that these people (ghosts?) could also see the staff, speaking to them and gesturing.

Eunice had once seen an amorphous dark mass down here. She hadn’t been scared by the period figures, some of whom walked up and down the staircase, but this eerie black shape had given her a deep sense of uneasiness.

I shared this sense of uneasiness each time I heard a bang or a clatter or a door slam down here. The sound effects in question would invariably be followed by a member of staff walking past, pushing a trolley or going about their everyday business.

But my overactive imagination would always assume it was something more sinister and spooky. The others just laughed at my jumpiness. Thanks, guys (and gals…)!

Finally, we chatted to a lady at the main desk upstairs. She told us that once, in the main library area, she’d heard her name called out. She looked round, but no one was there. Then she could smell flowers really strongly, but again there were no flowers around to be giving off the scent. (Mike has a theory about this. More about that in his follow-up blog entry coming soon.)

Eunice’s parting thought to us as we headed for the door was: ‘These people haven’t just been spotted in the basement. Staff see them in the library as well, in the daytime, as clear as you can see me and Linda right now.’

It occurred to me that all of Mike’s and my ghost-hunting excursions have taken place at night. But Eunice believes that ghosts can appear at any time. We only notice them at night because we’re not expecting to see anyone, but if they occur in the daytime we might walk straight past them, thinking they’re just ordinary folks like you or I.

As Mike and I emerged onto the midday street, encouraged and challenged by our visit to the library and grateful for the warm hospitality of our hosts, I couldn’t help looking at the crowds of people hustling and bustling down Surrey Street. I wondered how many of them might be daytime ghosts, and how would I be able to tell?

‘Great stuff,’ said Mike of our morning tour. ‘We’ll have to pay a return visit soon.’ I hope so. I’m looking forward to it!

And return we shall. But in the meantime, Mike has been doing some research. Lots of it. With some very interesting findings. But that (as clichéd endings go) is another story…