But I'm used to that. I was looking for a topic for my newspaper column, and I picked up the buffalo sculpture by my desk and looked underneath it. And I wound up getting into a mystery that has been part of America's history since 1949.
Some people call this exciting. I call it Thursday.
My name is Lou. I work for the Ross Library, in Lock Haven, Pennsylvania. But that's a little like saying the Pope sometimes says a prayer. I handle a lot of the local history in my community. I write about it for the newspapers, and I help to manage a small airplane museum, and I'm a member of a paranormal investigative team. I've been called the County Historian, which, as far as I can tell, is a title made up only to apply to me.
So I was looking for a column, walking around my office. Well, my office is basically a desk in one window of the oldest section of the library, the part that used to be Annie Halenbake Ross's house. Her funeral was held right where my desk is. For a paranormal investigator, that's pretty cool. I dream of one day having walls.
So I picked up the buffalo sculpture and turned it over, and I found the old newspaper article taped to the bottom. April 1, 1949. Using my Swiss Army Knife, I cut it loose.
Hello....What's this?
I looked over the article. It described how the buffalo had come in on a French train in 1949, been unpacked at the local newspaper office, and then donated to the library.
Huh. I think I have my column.
"Welcome back," I said to the boss as she walked in the door. "What do you know about the buffalo back by my desk?"
She frowned. "The buffalo? That one on the shelf? Nothing."
"Great. You want to hear something really cool?"
"Sure."
"I found an old article taped to the bottom of it, and I did some research. Turns out that buffalo was part of a shipment called the Merci Train, a gift from France in 1949. It contained forty-nine boxcars worth of gifts that got sent all over America. We got the buffalo. The staff named it Jake, after local inn owner Jake Kohlberger. Someplace else in the county, I don't know where, are a French figurine, a book about French life, and a photo showing the German surrender from World War Two. Thing is, nobody ever kept track of this stuff, so the location of all of this is a mystery. There's an organization that's been trying to track all this stuff down for years. They've found some stuff in Blair County, and some in Lycoming, but our buffalo has been among the missing. They had no idea where it went....And all this time, it's been sitting about six feet from my desk."
"Are you going to contact them?"
"Already did. And now I been getting e-mails from all over America and France. They're all thrilled, and they're looking for more information."
"And I'll bet you got a column out of this, too."
"Already written."
"Jazmyn!" I saw the girl coming toward my desk and jumped up to give her a hug. "I'm glad you stopped in! How have you been?"
Jazmyn is one of the kids I train in paranormal investigation. She's eighteen, very bright, and we've gotten very close. She's been away in Basic Training but still makes time to write and visit.
"I'm good," she said. "I love the Army. I mean, I hate it but I love it."
I smiled. "Yeah, I can understand it." She sat down near my desk. "I discovered a secret room down in the Piper Museum the other day."
"You said that in your letter! What are you gonna do with it?"
"I'm thinking UFO research center."
Jazmyn laughed. "That is so cool. I really miss this stuff with you guys."
"You're getting back in, what, the summer? You and me can have some adventures then. Solve a few mysteries and spend some quality time together."
"Yeah, I'd like that. Hunt some ghosts."
"LHPS is doing an investigation at Piper this month. It'll be cool---I'll let you know what happens. If you think of all the people killed in Piper crashes...."
She thought it over, looking amazed. "Yeah, they could be haunting the place, couldn't they?"
"And get this....John F. Kennedy Junior died in a Piper. It was a Piper Saratoga....You're too young to remember, but he went down in Massachusetts in 1999."
"Oh, wow."
'Yeah," I said. "We could be investigating the son of a dead president."
"I think you should teach me all this stuff," she said.
I smiled. "This summer when you're home, we're going to have a good time."
The Lock Haven Paranormal Seekers have been around since about 2007. At the time, they'd approached me about some historic research. I'd known the area well enough I was able to give them the information from memory, and the leader at the time had asked me to join.
Our team leader is Theresa, who is really, really good at electronics. Millie is our case manager, and she's a grandmother, but doesn't look like one. Charlie has blonde, curly hair and a fondness for cats. There are a couple of other members, but that's the nucleus.
And me.
When I'd been invited to join the team, I'd told them that I was busy, but could serve in a limited advisory capacity. That had lasted about as long as it took for me to get fascinated with the whole thing, and these days I was second in command. We got together once a month for a meeting, and went out on investigations when we got the chance.
Hey. You only live twice.
Piper Aviation had been making planes in Lock Haven from 1937 to 1984. In one of the old factories, a museum had been created in the late nineties. These days, I'm there all the time.
I got into the museum early and got some of the lights on. I turned up the heat a bit, and got out my equipment. I turned the lobby light on, so they could see when they got here.
With some time to kill, I walked around the museum for a while. I love the museum---I've been with Piper a little over a year. I started out as a volunteer, and quickly became the curator, and in June, I was invited to be on the board. These days, I keep a spare jacket in my office in case of adventure---Black, all tricked out with equipment in the pockets. My office is on the southwest end of the building, where they used to make the Navajo. It's got the archives and a cool concealed staircase leading downstairs.
It's not the first time I've had the whole museum to myself. There's something lovely about it. I walked through the display area, and then down to the hangar. I walked among the planes---The Tri-Pacer, the Aztec, the Cub.
And then the rest of the team arrived.
"It's your place," Theresa said to me. "Where do you want to start this?"
We were all wearing the black uniform with LHPS and the ghost symbol on it. I put on my additions: A black tac vest with my equipment in the pockets, and fingerless gloves. "Hot spots seem to be there and there. I'd like to check out the hangar. It's possible we have the ghosts of some pilots who died in crashes. Let's start up here."
"Let's get set up," said Theresa.
We put out the cables and infrared cameras, and turned on the recorders. Theresa said,"Piper Museum investigation, January 22, 2017. Seven-thirty PM. Theresa, Lou, Charlie, Millie."
I started taking photos, and then frowned at my camera.
"Battery's already dead. I just charged the thing this afternoon."
"Maybe some activity," said Charlie.
I got my backup camera out of my backpack. Charlie said,"Should we split up? Millie and I can take the room over there, and you and Theresa can go downstairs to the hangar."
"Good plan," I said. "Let's do that."
Theresa and I walked downstairs to the hangar. She said,"Where should we do this?"
"Let's do it in comfort," I said. "Let's go sit in the Cheyenne."
The museum has a Piper Cheyenne that will never fly again, but has been restored so children can play in it. It's an executive-class plane, which means nice seats and amenities. Theresa and I sat in the plane, letting the recorders run and asking questions.
"What is your name?"
"When did you die?"
"Were you a pilot?"
"Did you work with this museum?"
My recorder, sitting on the tray by my side, gave a beep and went off. I picked it up.
"Everything okay?" Theresa asked.
"Low battery. What the hell....?"
"Didn't you say you just charged these?"
"Yeah, I did. This afternoon."
"Could be something. Want to go back upstairs and find the others?"
"Sure."
We walked back up to the simulator room. Most of the lights were out, and I could hear Millie and Charlie talking. I shined my flashlight around the room. Where the hell....Oh. They're in the simulator.
The flight simulator is a reconditioned Piper Tomahawk that we keep in the east room. I climbed up the steps onto the platform, and looked in at them. "How's it going?"
"Not bad," said Charlie. "We're over Montana now."
"We had a hell of a time getting in this thing," said Millie.
"Yeah, it's a challenge," I agreed. "I just lost my recorder batteries downstairs."
They started getting out of the simulator. I glanced out at the lobby.
"I left that lobby light on," I said. "Did any of you guys turn it off?"
I looked at them all. They shook their heads. "It was on when we brought in the DVR," Charlie said.
"Something's messing with electricity in here," I said.
"While you were downstairs," said Charlie,"I thought I heard something. Just for a minute, I thought I heard sounds like an old factory. Like, just for a few seconds, it was in operation again."
I grinned at her.
"Tell me you recorded all that."
The next morning, I walked into the museum. I unlocked my office and sat down at the computer to check my e-mail. I'd received several responses to the column from the weekend, Jake And The Merci Train.
The committee looking for items had e-mailed. Using the information I'd given them about the buffalo, they'd managed to track down another sculpture from the Merci Train in Brooklyn.
"Well," I said to myself in the empty office.
I stood up and walked through the museum aimlessly. I love to do that. It's a place I feel good, the feeling you get when you're at home in a blanket. And if there are ghosts, then they're ghosts I feel comfortable with.
I looked through the window down into the hangar.
A couple of guys came in the door.
"Excuse me," one of them said. "Do you know anything about this museum?"
"Oh, sure," I said. "I'm the curator here. Do you want a tour?" I smiled. "My name is Lou."
