The year was 2002, during the early summer during a lazy day as a senior in high school, when myself and several friends began to devise a plan to scout out a local legend so that we could set up camp and spend a night within the confines of a reportedly nightmarish dilapidated and ancient farm house. This initial group was myself, my closest friend Boof, and two brothers whom we went to school with whom I'll refer to as Ess and Aye. Leaving school in Aye's car right at the beginning of lunch, the four of us arrived at our destination around 11:30. The problem with reaching the aforementioned local legend (Henceforth to be referred to as &Solly House&) was that the only path leading to the property that we knew of involved walking through an Elementary School playground and hopping a fence in the back of the property which would prove difficult as school was currently in session and it was nearing lunch time for the Elementary which would be preceded by recess. The doors would swing open and our ingress and egress would be flooding with juveniles and adults on high alert to random teenagers whom trespassed amongst their wards. Especially the group we were with One goth, one metal head, a juggalo and a rather average looking teenager (Aye could pass for normal during a cursory observation).

So we came upon the brilliant idea to just trace the outer fence line of the Elementary School, hoping fences and trekking through private property in order to attain the common path which was the most common means for travail to our destination. As we were entering the trail behind the school, children began streaming out of the building and flooding the playground like a cavorting and screaming cancerous mass which engulfed the brightly painted metallic structure and rusting swings which squeaked to life under the movements of the exuberant youths. We gave the scene a glance over our shoulders but only for a moment. As we neared our destination, as Boof, Aye and Ess continues their boisterous conversations about topics typical to teenage males, I began to ready my camcorder for the purpose of recording the rustic home and out buildings for the purpose of planning our stay over and just to be one of the few groups to take video documentation of an exploration of the house which is the portion of the property which was the most legendary in that particular community. Or perhaps I should refer to it as infamous for the reasons of its notoriety.

We arrived on the spot to scenery that I can only describe as "Texas Chainsaw Massacre-esque". A crooked two story house loomed up a small incline, drifting up from waist high yellowing grass. Stretching like a malevolent gargoyle of a forgotten era, ripping free from the confines of humanities peeling white vaneer. The paint reached away from the house in long strips as if attempting to free itself from the foreboding atmosphere which resonated from the house, despite the clear blue skies with a high noonday sun. To our (almost) immediate left was a small cemetery which added age to the scene as family plots for the personal burying of corpses was a tradition which had fell into unpopularity many years previous. The unattended landscape was wild and encroached on the granite grave markers to a degree which could almost be referred to as completely. Greenish grey stone rising like silent monoliths from the grasp of Mother Nature's oppression like a testament to the lively hood of those individuals whom succumbed to their fates. We were feeling inquisitive and spread out in singles to mill amongst memories of passed lives, reading names and dates as best as we could out of our own morbid curiosity. Every name on the gravestones was &Solly& but we were unable to glean much from our observations. So after several pictures were taken with a disposable camera, and a short videotaped tour of the area, we turned to the other out structure which dominated this partition of land which was the barn. It rose above us, instilling it's dominance over us by its sheer prodigious size compared to us. We were ants standing before a child who's malice gave us all pause. This was an impressive feat in itself seeing as how the majority of this group were experienced ghost hunters and it was broad daylight. Someone suddenly spoke up, I believe it was Boof, and said to the group. &Fucked up. We should save that for when we stay.& We all agreed although it may have been more because of a lack of desire to actually set foot within that place at this very moment. We were Not ready for that.

So the last thing we had to do on this excursion is to enter the house where the tragic events of the legend had transpired and, reportedly, had the most paranormal activity within it so it was the place we were planning on actually hunkering down within for the night so it was most important (for several reasons) that we fully document so we knew what sort of area and size of space we'd be working with for the group to occupy. It was immediately apparent that this tomb of forgotten events and tragic memories wasn't completely untouched by the actions of the modern world as the walls were littered, quite heavily in certain areas, with graffiti which ranged from biblical passages to the twisted script of a vandal practicing his craft before moving onto more visible canvases. Immediately this skewed the mystique of the structure within which we found ourselves, however we had come this far and we needed to follow this endeavor through to fruition even if only for our sense of duty and the desire to fully know if this place was a hub of supernatural energies. So we toured the house in two groups of two men with myself gathering the distinction of exploring the ground level and the basement with Boof at my hip and the half brothers (Aye and Ess) heading to the second floor if the stairs were structurally viable for traversal. Our first destination was to the rear of the house in an attempt to find an aperture to make an entrance into the basement but the outside cellar door was locked with a series of padlocks and the inside entrance to the basement was bereft of a stairway to the bottom but this inspection gave Boof and I a perfect view into the basement which was comprised of a gloom so thick that it couldn't be permeated by the sunlight streaming in passed out bodies which stood rigid in the doorway. We almost visibly shuddered as the basement was supposedly the epicenter of activity.

A portion of the legend of Solly House was an infanticide which took place in the basement. The ghastly wailing of a pained infant is supposed to ring through the hollow house at varying times during the night. A depressing throught, especially as I look back on it from the perspective of Father as I have had a child in the intervening years since this event happened. But this detail which popped up in every story we, collectively, had heard up until that point so it was one of the preported activities that we were adamant about attempting to document so when we came to the realization that we wouldn't be able to access the basement without spelunking gear (Which we had none of because it's Maryland and we don't spelunk. We don't even have caves in 99% of the state. Inconsequential though.) However, we uncovered a direct link to the basement in the form of a rotted hole in the floor with a diameter of approximately three feet so we determined the best we'd be able to accomplish is posting something at the mouth of that hole for the night, while tying off the camcorder (if it was available at that moment) or a voice recorded with a rope and lowered it to the basement floor from the ground level. It'd have to do. Again, we took a moment to gaze into the abyss. Allowing our subconscious to drift with our gazes locked into the unknown, hoping for any sight of movement or the fainted echo of a baby crying as he perched ourselves on the unsteady edge of the mouth of darkness. But nothing. Despite the general creepiness of old places, the exploration and examination of the video recorded was pretty basic and uninteresting but that information is rather irrelevant for this story. We met outside on the front porch and discussed how we would proceed a few nights later before making our way back to the trail to journey through the woods and back to the car but as we walked between the twin sentinels of the barn and the cemetery, we all slowed our walk until we had stopped. Our eyes lingered on the warped wood of the barn which entranced us into a silent revere which wasn't broken until someone spoke. I'm not entirely sure who suggested it but I know we all corroborated the thought and before any of us realized the possibly hazardous connotations of our actions, we were carrying a headstone out of the cemetery and towards the car.

Luckily for us the exploration as a whole activity had taken several hours longer then we'd planned so it was early evening by the time we had officially made our exit which meant we hadn't needed to worry ourselves about children and their school masters watching us carry a small granite headstone out of the woods, across a playground and across a parking lot before loading it into the trunk of a car. Was I weary of what I was doing by perpetrating the desecration of a poor soul's final resting place, a poor soul whom may have been a victim of a slaughter which had taken place in that very farm house we were entered into earlier? Yes I was. But I was young and just didn't care. So we fled the scene with our souvenir and went with Aye to the Wolf homestead where he had band practice. Boof, Ess and I decided to tag along because there would be several people there who were planning on joining us for conquering Solly House so after practice would be a good opportunity for further the plans that we started discussing while still at the property. We drove and arrived there without consequence and the band (Xero Impact) practiced their brand of Nu-Metal to the best of their abilities. When we were finally able to have out sit down, us four were joined by Wolf (The Vocalist) and Bee (A tech or roadie) and spoke of the best way to stage the overnight Ghost hunt. Bee decided to man the basement hole, Boof and several others would stay in the barn and everyone else would scatter across the ground level and second floor. But the portion pertinent to this story came afterwards when we bade Wolf to come to Aye's car with us so that we may show our souvenir. Wolf was nonchalant about it but offered for us to keep it at his house since we never decided what we would do with it as none of us were particularly interested in keeping it for any indefinite length of time. So having found it a home, we happily moved it into Wolf's room where we placed it behind his coach since he informed us that his Mother would flip if she found it. So having hidden it, we wish him and his sister farewell and let them know we'd be back that weekend to pick him up to go to Solly House.

Everything was quiet for the next few days. We begrudgingly survived school for the remainder of the week until we could finally get our expedition underway. It was pretty much the only thing I had to look forward to at that moment in my life. So on came Saturday and we piled into Aye's car to go and scoop up Wolf and head to a marina down the street from Solly House where we had all planned to meet up since the group was too large to fit into a singular automobile. It only took about five minutes to drive to Wolf's from my house so before I knew it, we were pulling up to the curb and hopping out of the vehicle to enter the home. Something immediately struck us upon entering. Kay, Wolf's sister, looked like she hadn't slept in days. The living room was the center of a torrential maelstrom, a vortex of refuse and laundry which was completely uncommon. The Wolf home may have been something of a party house but it was always confined to one or two bedrooms leaving the rest of the house to remain tidy due to the hard work of Kay and Mama Wolf but now, the living room was a disaster and I could see an abundance of food smeared across the floor in the kitchen and dining rooms. Wolf peaked out of his room and waved us over, looking equally as ragged as his usually gorgeous younger sister. We entered to the sight of the gravestone sitting tall in the center of Wolf's floor. It took us aback for a moment by the sheer surprise at seeing that object which we had washed our hands of and also shock for fear that Wolf's mother would see it. However, it seemed that we were already passed that point. Wolf started by pointing at it before saying one line which helped us fill in the blanks for the previous week for the Wolfs.

"Get it the Fuck out of here".

We quickly agreed to take it from them, to reburden ourselves with the stone but asked for an explanation of what had happened. We were then filled in on what had transpired over the course of the last few days. It started small the night in which we dropped the stone off. Whispers in the next room which was empty upon visiting it. Things being moved or lost. Dishes falling from the table. But things quickly escalated. Wolf was pulled from his bed, from a deep sleep, by his hair. Kay's necklace was pulled tight in the shower which strangled her almost to the point of lost consciousness. Furniture was thrown across rooms. Mama Wolf quickly wanted to know why this was happening and Wolf was forced to confess our transgressions and showed her the headstone which he had hiding behind his couch. She flipped, objects started flying across the room sporadically and she declared that she would be gone until that &fucking thing and the visit it brought with it& was gone leaving Wolf and Kay to fend for themselves in this event. It was at that moment when I was struck with a thought. What if the gravestone belonged to the individual who committed the Solly House massacre, not suffered it. What if a man who murdered his entire family, full of decades or centuries of time to twist his already malicious hate. What if it didn't stop when we took the gravestone or what if it attached to us instead? What if we fucked up? This paranormal activity continued to happen even as we hauled the stone from the house by being pelted with clothes and magazines as he moved the stone out of the house. The gravestone went into Aye's car, Boof and Ess decided to stay behind and attempt to help the Wolf siblings recover from their ordeals and Aye and myself sped back to the Elementary School which acted as our gateway to the Solly House.

This next portion I am almost hesitant to iterate for everyone because it paints myself in a terrible light but for the sake of completing this story, I shall state it here. In a fit of laziness and worry about getting back to see if the activity had ceased, Aye and I decided to leave the grave marker standing upright on the pitcher's mound of the Elementary School baseball field. Luckily, that was the last I heard about it. Nothing from the school or police. Nothing in the papers. Wolf and Kay recovered from any injuries they sustained during the paranormal activities and their Mother came back and only grounded Wolf for a month. Needless to say, we postponed our stay at Solly House until Wolf was granted freedom, but that's a different story for a different day.