Spirit World

A visit to two villages that still share the nineteenth century’s conviction that we can communicate with the dead

We walk down a street that seems lifted from a Victorian-era children’s book, and there, on the white clapboard cottage’s wall, is the small sign we have been told to look for: MRS. HANSON—MEDIUM . Reverend Hanson answers the door, and behind her sits Mr. Hanson, with his newspaper, in what can only be called a front parlor. We are invited in, but only my wife, Hayden, may enter the reading room, lest my “vibrations” disturb the clarity of Mrs. Hanson’s focus.

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