The Myrtles Plantation

(by Monica Tedana)

“Where is it, did we take a wrong turn”?   This is what we were asking ourselves the afternoon we were searching for the Myrtles Plantation is Saint Francisville, Louisiana.  The quaint little town is so peaceful; a feeling of calm is within you as you drive its streets.  Driving down the quaint little streets of a town that captures the essence of a time lost to the rest of the world.
As we drove I looked out at the shops, each leading into the next with unique gifts for sell.  Tim and I have always been collectors of unique gifts.  I have always loved Angels.  While looking out the window of the car as we drove, what did I see, calling over to me, but a beautiful angel hanging at the entrance of a little shop.  We stopped, went inside, and not only did we find some beautiful, unique angels, we also found the sweetest couple.  The shop which they own had been a dream of theirs for many years.  Now, it was there reality.  In their little shop, they sell their wares, little treasures which are so unique and special to anyone who buys them.  (I admire my angel every day)  We listened intently as they shared the story of their life together.  Not only did they share stories of their lives, but they shared with us, stories of this quaint little town.  Legends/Folklore of the legendary Myrtles Plantation.  They spoke of ghosts and things that go bump in the night at the Myrtles.  What wonderful stories, could they be true?  We were determined to find out.  After the stories, we were more than ready to be directed to our destination for the night….The Myrtles Plantation.
Finally, we found the little road which led us back, back in time really.  Back to a time when souls embodied in darker skin tones were thought less of, just because.  Driving up the road we couldn’t help but feel a presence from the Oleander trees covered in Spanish moss.  A feeling came over us of being seen, yet by what or whom?  As we approached the home, one couldn’t help but feel the eyes of the elementals within the trees watching us.  Soon we approached the home…a home of such splendor, such beauty; one couldn’t help but be transported back into the past.  
As we entered the home, the feelings, the emotions of the souls who walked these floors so long ago, were still so very present.  We could feel them, we knew they were there.  The eyes of the unseen were upon us, even though the only physical bodies present were those of the guests and ourselves.
The history which lingers still within its walls will take you away from the beauty and take you back, back in time.  As we followed our tour guide, listening intently to her stories, one could not help but get caught up in the “feelings’ in the home.  As you walk through each room…you know you are not alone.  And I am not just talking about the other visitors.
As night fell upon the land of moss covered tree’s, stories of tragedy, sadness and death all which occurred in this beautiful home, oh so long ago.  Suddenly one realizes as the night has fallen and the voices of the creatures of the night, the whipper whills, and the crickets as they sing their songs outside, only makes you more aware that soon you will have to go inside.
As we entered the home, walking immediately up the long stairwell, fearing reaching the top step for you know not what is standing there with you.  They are not visible to the naked eye, but you feel them.  Oh yes, you can most definitely feel them.
Once at the top of the stairs, slowly we turned the door knob.   Oh the chill in the air as we entered the stately room.  Its beauty was beyond compare.  The “presence’ in the room was undeniable.  We found ourselves speaking lovingly to the inhabitants of the room.  You could feel their curiosity.  It was as strong as our own.
My husband has the ability to ease the souls of the weary.  On both sides of the veil.  He had spoken to them earlier in the evening, long before I entered.  As we retired for the day, we snuggled closely holding each other in a loving embrace.  As the moments passed our embraces became loving touches.  Soon we were touching each other, expressing our love for one another.  As we made love, we could feel them embracing the love we shared.   
The whole atmosphere changed in the room.  These disembodied souls, that scare so many away from this lovely home, were basking in the love and aura of our emotions.  They embraced us as we embraced each other.  Then, as we closed our eyes and drifted off to sleep.
The spirits, the ghosts, of the Myrtles Plantation, the ones of stories, of eerie legends protected us throughout the night.  Knowing/sensing our love showed us they loved us too, by protecting/embracing us as we slept.
When we awoke, we were so rested.  We knew we had been watched, protected, by the souls who needed love as well, they are just on the other side.  Through us, they too experienced the loving embrace, the touch, of two people in love.
I knew right then, though we walk on different sides of the veil, we are still souls looking, longing for love, touch, an embrace.  Fear not what lies on the other side.  Embrace it with love, respect, never losing site of the memories of these souls, which must be honored eternally.
As we drove away from the Myrtles the next morning, I found myself once again looking out the window at the beauty abound in this little town.  Once  again I felt the pull to look over, and what did I see?  I saw a cemetery with 3 beautiful angel statues standing guard over the bodies of the souls who transitioned so long ago.  again,
we  stopped and went to see the beauty that had called us.  They stand there inanimate objects, yet they’re not.  Again the feeling of being protected came over us.
Soon the time had come, we had to go, but as we left we knew we were leaving new friends.  Not just the loving couple at the little shop in town, but the souls of those who still dwell within the halls of the Myrtles Plantation in the town of St.Francesville, Louisana.  A town lost to the rest of the world, but a town that the souls that once walked its streets have never forgotten…
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Florida Paranormal Research Foundation