The flight back from Seattle to San Francisco doesn’t take long, but sometimes it can be just long enough to be truly intriguing. Such was the flight I took a few months ago. Making small talk with my seat mate we turned to talking about our occupations, as it often does. And as it frequently happens when I mentioned I write about the paranormal his eyebrows raised considerably. I added my usual disclaimer that I just write about the paranormal, which tends to placate non-believers and keeps people from asking if I could contact their lost Aunt Ellen (“No,” I say, “I leave that to the psychics”). But this gentleman didn’t subscribe to either extreme, but he did tell me about a place that piqued my interest.

He asked if I’d heard of Harbin Hot Springs out by Middletown near Napa Valley. I indicated I had, of course, and then asked if I’d heard of Ravens Springs. My puzzlement clearly showed and he went on to say it’s separated from Harbin by a ridge and a lot of history, but the folks who had purchased Raven Springs only a few years ago were trying to pitch it as a hot springs destination on par but less crowded than Harbin. Oh, and it’s very, very haunted. When I asked for specifics, he shook his head and scribbled a name and number onto a business card. “Call Judy and check it out. You won’t be disappointed.”

So I did just that. Before Judy Dearing and her wife Autumn purchased the property, it had fallen into a state of utter disrepair. Over the phone she painted a picture of the dilapidated grounds as a collection of half burned-out buildings and barns with only the bones of their house and the pools mostly intact when they took ownership. When I drove up there on a stunning day in October the work these two women had put into the property became immediately evident. All traces of the derelict buildings were razed and in their place stood a rustic collection of low-slung buildings that housed meeting facilities, changing rooms, and maintenance equipment surrounding four natural hot springs of varying temperatures.

The grounds felt serene as I wandered in the midday warmth. As the sunlight filtered through majestic coast live oaks, I found it difficult to imagine this place ever feeling foreboding. I found Judy at their residence/office just aside from the pools complex. Where the buildings of the pools complex managed to straddle the line between rustic and organic, Judy and Autumn’s house embodied the word “quirky”. Not much of the original structure remained visible, and Autumn explained they had used salvageable elements from the other buildings to build out what had originally been a fairly small two story house. Built onto a sloping hill, the couple used the floor level with the pool complex as their business offices and their rooms, kitchen, dining room, and family room lay down a flight of salvaged oak stairs. Descending from the airy office floor to their living room felt much like walking down the stairs leading into a hot spring – the energy of their home felt welcoming and cozy; I didn’t realize how neutral the first floor felt until I immersed myself in their living space as I walked down the ancient wooden steps that were as firm as iron.

Given how comfortable their house is, it’s understandable my reticence to move from the deep leather couch. But when Judy offered to show me the old cemetery… come on. That’s what I live for. We walked through the pool complex, Judy greeting the bathing and reclining guests in varying states of nudity by name. Then we emerged from the back and made our way up a set of steps cut into the rising hillside until we reached a plateau set above and back from the pool complex. A derelict low stone wall bordered a collection of grave stones set into the somewhat overgrown ground. The chill, heavy energy within the stone wall of the cemetery couldn’t have contrasted more with the laid back, peaceful energy of the pool complex, and at once blotted out the welcoming memory of Judy and Autumn’s house. The sun had started setting behind the steep hill behind the cemetery to the north and the encroaching fall chill didn’t help. Judy led me through the blackened stone grave markers, explaining that a wildfire swept through this area some fifty years ago. We walked to a rounded knoll just east and above the stone cemetery border. Only the sunken foundation-lines remained of the three-story farmhouse that originally stood on the spot. Looking south from that vantage, the land dropped away precipitously, the Napa Valley spread out in the gathering evening. I asked why Judy and Autumn had decided to live down below, pointing to their house peeking out from the edge of the pool complex. Judy hugged herself in the gathering chill and said, “It just doesn’t feel right up here.” I knew exactly what she meant, and was grateful as we made our way back down and around the cemetery and back down the earthen steps and back into the pool complex.

Our timing was perfect, as we got back to the parking lot just as my friends Jeff, Larry, and Venus pulled in. Jeff and Venus are both experienced psychics and Larry specializes in recording haunted locations through photography and recording Electronic Voice Phenomenon (EVP). We all gathered on the back deck of Judy and Autumn’s home for a delicious vegan dinner Autumn had prepared as we watched the night spread out over the valley in the distance. Justin, the manager of the pools complex, came out onto the deck to let Judy know he’d locked up and was leaving for the night. He asked if we wanted the lights left on to enjoy the pools after dinner. Judy thanked him and explained that, no, we weren’t here for the pools. He eyed us nervously and said he’d close the gate at the bottom of the road leading to the parking lot on his way down.

Shortly after he left we adjourned to the upper office, the great oak conference table serving as our base camp. Jeff strapped on three DSLR cameras and resembled a well-prepared wedding photographer. He grabbed his bag of portable recording equipment and a flashlight and headed out with Jeff, who took a camera of his own around his neck like an eager tourist. Aside from the wildfire and tour of the physical structure of the property, I deliberately didn’t want Autumn or Judy to give me any details about the history of the place. Arriving after me, Jeff, Larry, and Venus knew even less than I did.

Venus’ smile faded quickly after Jeff and Larry left. I asked if she was alright and she said with a laugh that she wanted to go back down to Judy and Autumn’s living area. She closed her eyes and said she felt as if the property had just awakened. She likened it the opposite of the dawn: “when the sun peaks above the horizon and offers warmth and light and people and animals feel it’s safe to come out of their homes. This,” she shuddered, “is the opposite. The property is awake and on the prowl, but we shouldn’t be.”  As she talked I could see streaks of light dancing around the other-wise black windows.

Meanwhile, Jeff had led Larry out past the pools complex, making a beeline for the earthen stairs and up to the cemetery wall. Jeff started coughing when he crossed the open rusted gate set into the wall. He explained it was like getting hit by an overpowering psychic stench and he couldn’t catch his literal breath. He took a step outside the cemetery boundary and steadied himself as Larry’s flashlight moved among the black tombstones as he sought a place to set up a recorder. Jeff recovered enough to shoot some low-speed, high-aperture shots of Larry in the cemetery.  Larry, too, started snapping pictures with his cameras as soon as he stood up from placing a device at the base of a stone marker. Jeff, unsure about crossing back into the cemetery, waited for Larry to come back out. To the east of the cemetery a second story window on the knoll above cemetery winked on. While Larry was immediately eager to check it out, Jeff expressed a grave foreboding. Larry convinced him, saying he’d take the lead.

Back in the office, Venus had entered a trance state, eyes closed, her hands flat on the oak table top, her head lolled forward with her chin on her chest. “The fire,” she started, “was a cleanse.” I traded a look across the table with Judy.

“Venus? Can you expand on that?”

She remained still for a moment, then started to sob quietly. “So much pain…” she squeaked between sobs.

“Pain?”

“The Turners are… terrible,” she shuddered.

“Turner is the name of the family that settled this property originally,” Judy said quietly across the table to me. “They started this place as a rehabilitation facility for young offenders…”

“Slave labor!” Venus exclaimed. “Worked those boys… to death. What? I hear you,” she said to an unseen entity. The video camera Larry had started rolling before he left would later show an unexplained glowing orb floating behind, above, and over Venus as she spoke. Visually we saw nothing as she said, “Where are you buried?” a moment passed. “How many?” Her body wracked with a sob. “How many are still here? That many?” She reached out her hand suddenly, “Wait! You don’t have to go! Hide? From who?” Venus opened her eyes and looked directly at me, “He’s coming.”

Larry outpaced Jeff, who had by this time started to feel completely out of breath and had to hold onto the stone wall to steady himself. Jeff watched as Larry climbed the slope to the knoll. The upstairs light they had both seen faded out to nothing as Larry approached. Jeff raised his camera and took pictures as Larry kneeled on the knoll to place a recording device. One image Jeff took still chills my blood. In the grainy picture, the figure of Larry kneels over a bright box. Looming over him in the picture is an enormous black shadow with what look like filmy claw-like appendages reaching down to Larry. Immediately after he snapped the picture Larry stood and started down from the knoll at a dead sprint. Larry is a big guy not prone to either running or fear, but Jeff said when Larry reached him his face was bone white. “I was adjusting the stereo mics and it felt like someone dumped a bucket of ice water over me,” Larry recalled. “I hit record and bolted.”

In the office, we asked Venus who was coming? She explained she had been in contact with many boys ranging from about five to seventeen years old. They all wanted to talk about the hell the Turners put them through, explaining they were stacked in drafty bunkhouses, two and three to a bed and forced to work from sun up to sun down clearing the land for the Turner’s orchards, gardens, and mine. They were, as Judy had suggested, juvenile offenders and the county had sent them up to the Turner’s as punishment, but only later the county inquired about the exceptionally high death rate. Tears running down her face, Venus recounted how the boys were beaten, whipped, and sexually assaulted for the slightest infraction – real or imagined. As to who the “He” was that snapped Venus out of her trance? Apparently, the ghost of Joseph Turner was coming, and he was pissed.

When the three thunderous impacts rattled the office, it didn’t take Venus to tell us Joseph had made his appearance. Autumn raced up the stairs from the living area, dish towel in her hand, looking for the source of the noise. “Sit down and don’t move!” Venus hissed in a whisper. Autumn looked at me and then at Judy. We both nodded vigorously, and Autumn hurriedly took a seat next to Judy who pulled her close. “Don’t. Move.” Venus said quietly, enunciating each word. The lights overhead dimmed, though they didn’t look to lose their intensity as much as the light was being blotted out. Through the far window I could see small glowing orbs and pricks of light dancing like fireflies. As the light further dimmed, I felt a physical pressure pushing down on me, cold and oppressive. Venus stared up at the darkness passing slowly, menacingly through the room. Judy held Autumn. I sat as still as I possibly could, not so much as moving my head but instead just swiveling my eyes to take in the room. In the video the thuds are clearly heard, as is Autumn pounding up the stairs and the ambient light dimming, but the video inexplicably blacked out at that point and remained so for the next five minutes when, equally inexplicably, started recording the room again, Venus panting to catch her held-breath, me rubbing my face in my hands, Judy and Autumn in a life-affirming embrace.

Jeff and Larry had descended to the pool complex, and made their way along the western perimeter when Jeff froze and grabbed Larry’s shoulder and pulled him against the trunk of a high broadleaf maple. He held his finger to his lips and pointed to the mirrorless camera slung on Larry’s right side. Larry nodded in understanding – lacking a mirror and with an electronic shutter, that camera could shoot completely silently. Lifting the camera, Larry looked at Jeff for guidance. Jeff pointed ahead towards the front of the pool complex and then moved his fingers to indicate something walking. Larry saw nothing, but started snapping pictures of the darkness ahead of him.

In the pictures, the dark outline of the buildings frame the left side of the shot. Emerging from around the building a glowing outline surrounding a completely black void moves from left to right in the sequential shots, moving across the frame until it disappears again off the right edge of the picture.

After a few moments, Jeff anxiously tapped Larry’s shoulder and the two fled east, entering the pool complex from the back, moving along the steaming pools and finally exited the front and ran for the office.

While we were all relieved that Larry and Jeff were okay, their abrupt entrance caused us all to jump in startled surprise. They crowded in around the table and we all began filling each other in. After a few minutes of harried conversation, Autumn stood up from the table and held stock still. “Who smells smoke?”

As soon as she spoke the word everyone noticed and nodded. Then we heard the crackling and roaring. The windows of the office glowed with the oncoming wildfire. We all bolted for the door and froze just outside. Racing down the hill behind the pool complex and above the cemetery, a raging fire advanced unnaturally smoothly, like a wave along a shoreline. But instead of the fiery reds and oranges this fire shone blue and silver and emitted no heat. We all six stood spellbound as the silvery-blue fire seemingly-flowed down the hillside, its light illuminating a black house on the knoll we all knew no longer stood on that hill. The fire crested over it, consuming it and the cemetery, and the silhouetted outbuildings to the west that had also long-ago ceased to be there. The fire split as it coursed around the pool complex and it dimmed and finally died completely as it reached just in front of us. The spectral flames faded out and we all stared out on the dark grounds of the pool complex and beyond. No cricket chirped. No owl hooted. We stood rooted for long minutes before we slowly, and carefully retreated inside, bypassing the table, and started down the stairs to the sanctuary of Judy and Autumn’s home.