Tipp City Residuals
January 19, 2008

Investigators present (original group): Rob, Ed, Ravin, Patty, Charity, Kim, and Becky

Under the pall of bone-chilling temperatures and wind chills well below zero (-20), we found ourselves converging on the home of Ron and Jen for our first official investigation as a group. The four of us from Dayton drove up in Ed's truck, our gear stowed safely away in the locked and covered bed, while the girls from Piqua showed up shortly after in Kim's car. It didn't take long for the creep-factor to set in.

Patty remarked, while peering into the basement window, "Wow, that's a creepy feeling." The window was pitch-black, but she said she could feel something down there, almost as if it was waiting for us to show up. I laughed a bit uneasily, wondering if we were in for a treat on our very first outing. It was my hope that things would go well, and we wouldn't break anything. From research Patty and I had done at the Miami County Courthouse the week prior, I knew that the house was tiny. I also knew it was steeped in a rich history dating all the way back to before Ohio became a state back in 1803.

Originally developed by Charles Trupp of Trupp and Company, the property was now only part of the lot laid out in the platting books. Sometime in the early 1900's, the lot was divided by the sheriff because of some dispute. Could this be the cause of the reported haunting?

We were in for quite a story, for there was more to it than what I had been told by Charity, who knew the current occupants. We had been called out on this case because they claimed to hear a baby crying in the bedroom off the living room. What we found out, after bringing all the equipment, which consisted of a small form factor computer (SFF), 19" LCD monitor, and a blue tub filled with all the miscellaneous equipment, was there were also voices being heard, shadows, and images captured on film.

Ron passed around some pictures of his daughter pointing out the image that showed up on the wall that looked curiously like a swaddled baby's face. Maybe this was our crying baby? Closer scrutiny to the wall and the shadow that a lamp cast revealed patchwork to the wall was creating the shadow; matrixing was taking care of the rest. Our first debunking felt kind of good.

After hearing the stories of a twice heard, "I hate Ohio" while heading out the back door, shadows in the kitchen, and the baby cry which they now said seemed to be coming from the corner of the living room, we started setting up the cameras and computer. One cam was placed facing the "baby cry" area while another was pointed into the kitchen in hopes of catching a shadow person. We broke into two teams, and the Dayton Bunch headed downstairs while the Piqua Threesome stayed upstairs to listen for the crying baby.

The basement was really nothing more than a cellar. Patty, Ed, Ravin and I settled into comfortable positions and started up an EVP session asking the typical questions of the spirits. It was dark, cold, and a little damp, but it was quiet...at least until the furnace kicked on and caused us all to jump. I quickly radioed upstairs, "Could you do something to shut this furnace off?" After a few minutes, the noise stopped and we resumed questioning. Patty asked at one point, "Do you like Ohio?" After hearing what I thought to be a "No," I marked it on the digital recorder. As it turned out, it was just the water softener in the corner dripping.

Other than Patty feeling "cold around her legs" as if she was "frozen to the floor" nothing worthy of note happened while my Dayton team was in the basement. I did hear something that sounded like a critter scurrying around in the furnace/crawlspace, but it was obviously a little critter.

After regrouping and quickly swapping details of our vigils and some daring to venture out into the frigid night for a smoke break, the teams switched locations and got quiet again. One of the things that the Piqua group noted, after they'd mentioned that they thought they heard the sound, was that it seemed to coincide with the arrival of the train. [Very active tracks were no less than 50 yards from the house.] Ravin sat in the little bedroom off the living room, Ed and I were on the couch, hoping to hear the baby crying, and Patty watched the computer monitor.

I think that by this time, Ed and I had already (erroneously?) decided that there wasn't much going on. Earlier attempts at debunking the crying baby proved less than fruitful, until the train went past. But this would come to play later on.

After sitting around for nearly an hour, it was time for another smoke break. It was at this point that we all decided to leave the equipment running and shut the house up. Sitting my digital recorder near the back door where the "I hate Ohio" had come from; we all vacated the premises and went in search of food.

The Piqua group stayed in town, which allowed them to return to the house faster than we could, ?while my team went to Fricker's in Vandalia (and had a miserable time: lousy service). Upon returning to the house, we heard the train off in the distance. Ravin, Patty, and I hurried out of Ed's truck and ran into the living room hoping to hear the sound. When we breathlessly entered the house, Charity called out, "You JUST missed it." We were disappointed, but I knew that they had one and maybe even two audio recorders running. It would be much later before I would find out from Kim that nothing was captured on either of their audio devices.

I decided at this point that we'd probably done all we could (the house was less than 850 square feet). We wrapped up and were gone before midnight. Reviewing the evidence that night and the following day would reveal only a few EVPs. Our final conclusion was that if indeed there was anything going on, it was residual, and totally harmless.