DOPPELGANGERS

Doppelgangers

"The existence of so-called Doppelgangers and spirit doubles is an ancient and widespread belief.  According to legend, Doppelgangers (German for "double-walker") is a duplicate of a real person." 

It is someone that looks the exact same as another person, yet is not a twin. 

Mystics throughout the ages have believed Doppelgangers and spirit doubles are supernatural creatures. 

They are either spiritual copies of the person or downright demonic twins."

"Doppelganger" - a shadow self that is thought to accompany every person. Traditionally, it is said that only the owner of the doppelganger can see this phantom self, and that it can be a harbinger of death.

Occasionally, however, a doppelganger can be seen by a person's friends or family, resulting in quite a bit of confusion.

In instances of bi-location, a person can either spontaneously or willingly project his or her double, known as a "wraith," to a remote location. This double is indistinguishable from the real person and can interact with others just as the real person would.

Ghostly doubles and look-alikes have been woven into the fabric of folklore from the Ancient Egyptians to Norse mythology, but modern occurrences and the tale’s perfect suitability to campfire storytelling have made it one of the scariest urban legends. 

The sight of your own doppelgänger is said to be an omen of death, while a doppelgänger seen by a person’s friends or family is considered a sinister warning of impending doom.

DO YOU HAVE an exact double somewhere in the world? Can a person be in two places at once? There are many intriguing accounts throughout history of people who claim to have either encountered apparitions of themselves -- their doppelgangers -- or have experienced the phenomenon of bilocation, being in two separate locations at the very same time.

EMILIE SAGÉE

One of the most fascinating reports of a doppelganger comes from American writer Robert Dale Owen who was told the story by Julie von Güldenstubbe, the second daughter of the Baron von Güldenstubbe. 

In 1845, when von Güldenstubbe was 13, she attended Pensionat von Neuwelcke, an exclusive girl's school near Wolmar in what is now Latvia. 

One of her teachers was a 32-year-old French woman named Emilie Sagée.  Although the school's administration was quite pleased with Sagée's performance, she soon became the object of rumor and odd speculation. Sagée, it seemed, had a double that would appear and disappear in full view of the students.

In the middle of class one day, while Sagée was writing on the blackboard, her exact double appeared beside her. The doppelganger precisely copied the teacher's every move as she wrote, except that it did not hold any chalk. The event was witnessed by 13 students in the classroom. A similar incident was reported at dinner one evening when Sagée's doppelganger was seen standing behind her, mimicking the movements of her eating, although it held no utensils.

The doppelganger did not always echo her movements, however. On several occasions, Sagée would be seen in one part of the school when it was known that she was in another at that time. 

                   

The most astonishing instance of this took place in full view of the entire student body of 42 students on a summer day in 1846. The girls were all assembled in the school hall for their sewing and embroidery lessons.

As they sat at the long tables working, they could clearly see Sagée in the school's garden gathering flowers. 

Another teacher was supervising the children. When this teacher left the room to talk to the headmistress, Sagée's doppelganger appeared in her chair -- while the real Sagée could still be seen in the garden. 

The students noted that Sagée's movements in the garden looked tired while the doppelganger sat motionless. 

Two brave girls approached the phantom and tried to touch it, but felt an odd resistance in the air surrounding it. 

One girl actually stepped between the teacher's chair and the table, passing right through the apparition, which remained motionless. It then slowly vanished.

Sagée claimed never to have seen the doppelganger herself, but said that whenever it was said to appear, she felt drained and fatigued. Her physical color even seemed to pale at those times.

FAMOUS DOPPLEGANGERS

Guy de Maupassant, the French novelist and short story writer, claimed to have been haunted by his doppelganger near the end of his life. 

On one occasion, he said, this double entered his room, took a seat opposite him and began to dictate what de Maupassant was writing. He wrote about this experience in his short story "Lui."

John Donne, the 16th century English poet whose work often touched on the metaphysical, was visited by a doppelganger while he was in Paris - not his, but his wife's. 

She appeared to him holding a newborn baby. Donne's wife was pregnant at the time, but the apparition was a portent of great sadness. 

At the same moment that the doppelganger appeared, his wife had given birth to a stillborn child.

Percy Bysshe Shelley, still considered one of the greatest poets of the English language, encountered his doppelganger in Italy. 

The phantom silently pointed toward the Mediterranean Sea. 

Not long after, and shortly before his 30th birthday in 1822, Shelley died in a sailing accident - drowned in the Mediterranean Sea.

Queen Elizabeth I of England was shocked to see her doppelganger laid out on her bed. The queen died shortly thereafter.   Her doppelganger was described as being "pallid, shivered and wan." 

In a case that suggests that doppelgangers might have something to do with time or dimensional shifts, Johann Wolfgang von Goethe, the 18th century German poet, confronted his doppelganger while riding on the road to Drusenheim. 

Riding toward him was his exact double, but wearing a gray suit trimmed in gold. Eight years later, von Goethe was again traveling on the same road, but in the opposite direction. 

He then realized he was wearing the very gray suit trimmed in gold that he had seen on his double eight years earlier,

Horror is recognizing that when you see yourself from an external position, the realization is that that tragic person whom he or she has been observing, is themselves.

"A man stands here too, staring up into space

And wrings his hands with the strength of his pain 

It chills me, when I behold his pale face 

For the moon shows me my own features again!"

~ Heinrich Heine

RELATED:

Fear of self: An irrational fear of oneself, an intense self-fear that is groundless. Fear of oneself is termed "autophobia" which comes from two Greek words: "autos" (self) and "phobos" (fear) = literally, self-fear, fear of oneself.  Autophobia is the fear of yourself. 

Fear of Twins: The official scientific word for the fear of identical twins is duomaieusiophobia. The prefix "duo" means "two" or "double" and the suffix "maieusiophobia" means "fear of childbirth." 

Duophobia is the fear of things that come in twos. 

Idiaphobia is the fear of things being identical.

Joining the above would make Duoidiaphobia would then mean the fear of two things being the same, 

Anthrophobia is the fear of anything human, so although there is no word for a fear of twins you would adjoin the two to make: 

Duoidioanthrophobia which would mean two identical humans.

The Vermont Old Cemetery Association (VOCA)

For fellow Taphophiles.....

I have been waiting for a while for this particular organization to complete its website construction, so I could post a direct link, etc.... and the other day I discovered that it has been completed.  I used to be a member of this organization, before I moved to Massachusetts over a decade ago.  I am sending in my $40.00 check for a 5 year membership today.  $200.00 will give you a life time membership.

"The Vermont Old Cemetery Association (VOCA) was founded in 1958 to encourage the restoration and preservation of neglected and abandoned cemeteries in the State of Vermont. Vermont cemeteries date back to the 1700's. They are memorials to the people who endured hardships to settle Vermont when it was a Republic, and to their many descendants. In many instances, there are no surviving members of families to watchdog and preserve their family gravestones. It is up to us to safeguard these sacred emblems."

I cannot say enough about this organization!   VOCA has been responsible for the perpetual care and the preservation of countless cemeteries across the state, restoring and caring for some public, and often very forgotten grave yards.  History is discovered and recovered!  

"Our members are constantly working in all parts of the state, in cemeteries large and small, righting and cleaning grave markers, clearing brush, fixing fences, repairing damaged markers, and recording inscriptions."

BURIAL GROUNDS OF VERMONT 

"The Vermont Old Cemetery Association's book "Burial Grounds of Vermont," was first published in 1991, and edited by Arthur and Frances Hyde.

The book is a record of pertinent information regarding more than 2,000 cemeteries and burial grounds throughout the State. It also includes information on some monumental stones which are not actual burial sites. Information also tells the period of their use, the approximate number of burials, the 'condition' of the burial ground at a particular point in time, when the last survey was completed, and by whom, known lists of interments, and in a few instances a "Research Notes" page with history, maps, photographs and burial information. The book includes maps with black "bullets" with white numbers matching up with verbal descriptions of locations on the descriptive page.

This would be a unique gift to give someone interested in the state's genealogy/history. All proceeds go to help the organization.

Burial Grounds of Vermont is now available on CD for $20. Please send your check to: Charles E. Marchant Box 132 Townshend, VT 05353"

NEWSLETTERS

The Association publishes an interesting newsletter four times a year. It includes articles on cemetery laws, care, and preservation aids.  

As a member, you will receive these, free.  They are truly interesting and informative newsletters - and fun to receive in the mail!

MORE ABOUT THE ASSOCIATION

From the website:

"Our members are constantly working in all parts of the state, in cemeteries large and small, righting and cleaning grave markers, clearing brush, fixing fences, repairing damaged markers, and recording inscriptions."

"We provide cash grants to individuals and groups who need financial assistance in starting and conducting restoration projects."

"VOCA encourages publicity: newspaper, magazine, radio, 
television, parade floats, cemetery tours, fair exhibits, and can often provide interesting speakers and slide shows."

"Our organization has led the way for other states to participate in cemetery restoration: New Hampshire, Maine, and Wisconsin have followed VOCA's example."

"VOCA encourages memorial gifts of any denomination, for by memorializing your own, you promote the work of VOCA and contribute towards the attainment of its goals. Gifts are tax-deductible."


"We have hundreds of members: a dozen charter members, groups such as towns, historical and patriotic societies, Granges, Home Demonstration and other community groups, individuals and families scattered throughout the entire United States."

FOR THE REPLACEMENT OF VETERAN GRAVESTONES:

The National Cemetery Administration in the U.S. Department of Veterans Affairs (VA) furnishes upon request, at no charge to the applicant, a Government headstone or marker for the unmarked grave of any deceased eligible Veteran in any cemetery around the world, regardless of their date of death.

For eligible veterans that died on or after Nov. 1, 1990 and whose grave is marked with a privately purchased headstone, VA may also furnish a headstone or marker to supplement the graves or a Medallion to be affixed to a privately purchased headstone.

Flat markers in granite, marble, and bronze and upright headstones in granite and marble are available. Bronze niche markers are also available to mark columbaria used for internment of cremated remains. The style chosen must be permitted by the officials in charge of the private cemetery where it will be placed.

When burial or memorization is in a national cemetery, state Veterans' cemetery, or military post/base cemetery, a headstone or marker will be ordered by the cemetery officials based on inscription information provided by the next of kin or authorized representative.

Spouses and dependents are not eligible for a Government-furnished headstone or marker unless they are buried in a national cemetery, state Veteran's cemetery, or military post/base cemetery.

SUBMISSIONS

"If you hear about something in the news or in your community that you think would make a good item for our web page, please drop us an email. Links to relevant articles and pictures are appreciated.
If you have a story that you want to tell about a Vermont cemetery, gravestone, cemetery project, or other cemetery related matter, please contact us at your earliest convenience. Pictures to help tell the story are also very much appreciated.

If you have an instruction, correction, addition, or subtraction for the web site, our contact information is given below.

If you have an idea for a new web page or new content for the web site, we are all ears.

If you have information about a Vermont cemetery that will expand, enhance or correct our database, please contact our Cemetery Database Administrator."

Contacts:

VOCA Webmaster
Barry Trutor
btrutor@burlingtontelecom.net 

VOCA Cemetery Database Administrator
Tom Ledoux

cemeterydba@voca58.org

The website is:  http://www.voca58.org/

Bailey Mills - Lost Treasure?

Once again, are you ready to grab your metal detectors, pickax and shovel?

Another Lost Treasure in Vermont?

This is the story of Levi Bailey and Bailey Mills.

Birth: 15 FEB 1766, Andover, Essex County, Mass.
Death: 21 OCT 1850, Reading, Windsor County, Vermont
Burial: Hapgood Cemetery:  Reading, Vermont ( a.k.a. "Spite Cemetery")

Levi moved from Massachusetts as a young man to Vermont in 1790. First settling in Hartland then in 1794, he purchased property in Reading, Vermont and built his home and this was where he established a woolen mill (3 stories tall), a milling operation consisting of a grist mill, a timber operation, a carding, a linseed oil mill, a black smith shop, a general store and a dam in the brook now known as Baileys Brook.   The home and the buildings,  became known as Baileys Mills.

Levi amassed great wealth, and he apparently did not put his money into banking institutions, apparently, he did not trust them.  He was known as being very frugal, and a "penny pincher."  Levi had a neighbor by the name of David Hapgood, who Levi tried to befriend (to purchase the property adjacent to his home and milling operation) and repeatedly offered to buy his land, but it was too late.  

Hapgood was not fond of Bailey, and donated the "coveted acre" of land for the purpose of a town cemetery, and when he died in 1829, was buried with in view of the Bailey estate, which was hence labeled "Spite Cemetery". Ironically, when Levi died in 1855, he was buried just 6 tombstones away from Hapgood, in the Hapgood Cemetery; thus, finally owning a permanent slice of this land.

On his death bed, his physician was the only one present.  He told the doctor that he had buried a great sum of money "in the woods, on the west side of the saw mill."  

Today, Bailey's Mills is a popular Bed and Breakfast nestled on a scenic and historic back road, in Reading...and you can get there from here.... it is advertised as: 

"A winding country road, rolling meadows, an old mill stream, an historic cemetery.
Yes, it's a quiet neighborhood."

Remembering "Donnie"

Today, I am remembering Halloween 5 years ago.  It was the saddest time of my life.  

My brother had been diagnosed with MS in 1998.  During the times that his disease would flare, treatment options were incredibly expensive and I think that ultimately, he tried to suffer through the worst of it, until it got too bad. 

From approximately 2007 through 2009, Donald had a regular doctor (primary care physician) at a local medical center,  however he had never met, nor ever saw his  physician  He was only seen and treated by physician assistants.  He was referred to Fletcher Allen for treatment for MS. 

Donnie last worked at a local granite tile company.  His job title was "granite polisher" and he occasionally went out of shop to set tile on various jobs (installing counter tops, etc. in people's homes).  His last day of employment was 8/21/09 (and he was having problems w/ his vision, hand shaking, and the onset of what he thought was pain relating to MS on his left side and headaches) but did not seek medical help for a couple of weeks, thinking that the symptoms would subside. 

On or about September 10, 2009, Donnie went to Fletcher Allen where he was prescribed IV therapy at Central Vermont Hospital for treatment of MS.  He received 5 days of IV drips from September 14 through 19th, 2009.  Donald had lost his medical insurance through his employment (which includes coverage for daughter) on September 1st.  After treatment, his symptoms did not improve, in fact they worsened.  Slowly and surely.

On Friday, October 23, 2009, I took Donnie to the Neurology Department at Fletcher Allen Hospital for his scheduled appointment for a check up regarding his current symptoms which were on-going headaches and difficulty walking.  Again, he met with a PA, not a doctor.  During the course of the interview, Donnie indicated that he had quit smoking, and had laid off the coffee for approximately 5 weeks.  The nurse said that his headaches were the result of caffeine withdrawal, and that his leg / hip tenderness was most likely MS related symptoms.

I tried to explain that there was much more than headaches and pain with walking, but his memory, speech and motor skills were dulled and slow.  Something was far worse than caffeine withdrawal.  My comments were dismissed and ignored. To date, [at that time] X-Rays, CT SCAN or MRI tests were not ordered or conducted.  She did write a prescription for a generic medication to treat depression (Amitriptylin 25 mg - oral - 1 at bedtime for 1 week, to increase to 2 tabs daily after 1 week).  Donnie refers to this med as "happy pills" - I paid for them. She also prescribed Ibuprofen (800 mg every 6 hours to decrease pain and inflammation of left side - ankle to above hip/lower back).  

To back up a bit, I should explain that Donnie had returned to live at my parents house in the Spring of 2009, as he had filed for Divorce.  At the end of September, I had a huge job offer fall through (co-ownership of an Inn in Bridgewater) - I had given notice at my job, found new renters for my apartment in Montpelier, packed the moving truck, and as I was loading the last piece of furniture (my new futon) onto the truck, I received a phone call from my potential employer indicating he had gone broke, and was selling his business.  He had no employment for me!  I had no where to go, so I called my parents, who welcomed me back home - primarily to watch over Donnie.  To me, this was an example of God guiding me to where I was needed, as my parents were elderly and at a total loss as to what to do for their son and his symptoms.  I think they were frightened and beyond concerned.  So, I moved in, and began to care for my brother, conduct a new job search, and help my parents where ever possible.

Again, thank God I was there, as what ensued from the 23rd through October 31st, 2009 was Donald's steady decline of cognitive and motor skills.  Pain, confusion and difficulty walking increased.  

On Friday night, the 30th, my niece had come to spend the night.  She had fallen asleep, and I heard my brother call to me from his room.  I entered, and Donnie was half-sitting/half-laying against the bed on the floor.  I sat down next to him.  He had his wallet in his hand, and he was searching for something that wasn't there.  He pulled everything out of it, and then put it back again.  This was repeated a few times.  Then he began to search his jean pockets - at which point he had pulled out his car keys, and I said to him, "There are your keys!" and that seemed to put his mind to rest.  I remembered we laughed and behind the laughter, I was crying - trying desperately not to let the tears spill out of my eyes - so that he did not see my worry and concern.  I helped him into bed as his legs seemed to had given out.  He almost immediately fell asleep.

Early the next morning, (Halloween) my niece was up and downstairs with my parents. I came down to get my morning cup of coffee, when I heard my brother call to me from upstairs.  "Denise!"  (It should be noted that Donnie only used my real name when he wanted my attention, or if he had something important to tell me.  He always called me either "Dennis" or "Nanette").  As I headed up the stairs, I was pretty sure that I would find a similar situation as to the night before, which I did, only this time he was sprawled across his bed, wearing only a t-shirt and underwear, unable to sit up. I pulled him forward, and helped him to put on a pair of sweats.  I told him to just wait right there.   I thought quick, and told him I was going to get his daughter home, and then come back to help him.  I ran downstairs and called her Mother to come pick her, because I did not want my niece to see her Dad in the state that he was in.  I remained calm and told her to get her things together, I had to take Daddy to the doctor to get checked.   She was around 10 or 11 at that time, and I felt that it may be traumatic to her. Thankfully, her Mom came right away.  It was 8 a.m.

While my niece's Mom was en route (just a couple of miles away), I returned upstairs and helped Donnie into a pair of socks and a sweat shirt.  It was about 6 to 9 paces from Donald's room to the top of the stairs.  From there, it is 14 steps down, with a landing in the middle.    With support, we walked to the top of the landing and then he had to sit down and move from one step down to the next, with my help.  About 1/2 way down, he asked me to "take the pot" out of his hand, extending his arms as if he was holding something.  Asked, "What pot?" at which point he became annoyed and briskly said, shaking his arms, "The pot!".  I pretended to take it away and told him I was setting it down.  This seemed to have calm him down, and we agonizingly proceeded to descend the rest of the way down the stairs.  At 8:35 a.m., I had got him to the bottom.  

During this time, my poor parents were in the kitchen, worried sick watching all of this, not really knowing what to do or say.  Mom asked if we should call the ambulance, and I said no, I was bringing him to Fletcher, where there was a neurology department.  I ran outside and moved my car onto the lawn in front of the porch steps to lessen the distance from the house to my car, and ran in to call Fletcher Allen Emergency Room.  I got through to the Doctor on call and stated that I was bringing my little brother to the Emergency Room, he was a neurology patient there and was being treated for MS.  He was having symptoms similar to someone having a stroke.  Incredibly - and I mean incredibly, the doctor told me to bring my brother to the Central Vermont Medical Center because he probably had a urinary track infection!  As you can imagine, I lost it - telling that doctor that NO, I wasn't bringing him to CVMC - I was bringing him to Fletcher Allen - he can't walk, he is confused - something is terribly wrong and that he could expect me there as fast as I could get there!  I'd like to add that there were some colorful superlatives thrown in, but I will spare the reader. 

I proceeded to get Donald into the car, and we sped to Burlington, leaving Williamstown by approximately 9:40 a.m.  This 45 minute trip, took about 35 minutes.  Once there, I parked at the ER entrance, and was immediately met at the door with a wheelchair and Donald didn't have to wait even a minute before he was admitted and they whisked him away to get a CT-SCAN.  FINALLY!  Initial tests were not good.  They located lesions around his brain, and fractures along his hip.  They then proceeded to take him in for an MRI which showed conclusively that he had lung cancer which had metastasized to his brain and bones.  I stayed with him until about 6:30 p.m. Our family met with the doctors the following day to discuss his diagnosis and options.  My sister and brother-in-law seemed to have the best handle on his diagnosis and treatment options.  Having been through this, they could explain the situation with less medical terminology, and for that, we were grateful.

I returned every day for the next 5 days and would stay for hours to visit.  I was unemployed and wanted to be there.  Donald under-went tests of all kinds - to include being treated with "nuclear medicine".  He was given fluids and medication, and he seemed to return to his old self, even getting his appetite back (constantly exploring his menu options).  After treatment to stabilize him, he was released on the evening of November 5th.  He looked good, as if his health had returned.  We returned home and on Friday, November 6th (following doctor's orders) we began to set up further treatments of chemotherapy and radiation therapy for early the following week.  I took him to Walmart, and he used the motorized cart to pick up his medications.  Typically, we got the giggles and he continued to run into me with his cart on purpose.  He would go forward to hit me, and then find me again, and use reverse to run into me.  We laughed.

That afternoon, my sister and her husband came to my parents house.  She brought Donnie's favorite grinders to eat.  As we sat around the kitchen table, we continued to encourage him that his diagnosis was treatable, and that he had to keep going.  He tried to muster the courage to believe us, but ultimately fell to despair and wept.  He was afraid.  We all were afraid.    Among our own tears, we kept on with our mantras that he would get better.  My sister returned home with the plans of returning early the next week to be at his appointments.  

The next morning is still surreal in my mind.  Donnie came down stairs and said he felt weird.  I told him I would make him a cup of tea, and I poured him a bath to relax.  He had a few sips of tea and then went into to relax in the bath.  About 15 minutes later, he came out and said, "You had better call CVH", and went into the living room to sit in "his" chair.  All I can remember is I ran outside, pulled my car onto the lawn in front of the door.  

I ran inside, and my mother squeaked in a high pitch, frantic voice, "He's in shock!"  I yelled to my parents to call 9-1-1 and they stood there, frozen.  I picked up the phone and dialed.  I started to give details, and handed the phone to my parents, and ran into the living room to try to give my brother CPR.  He was gone.  I knew he was gone, but I tried.  The ambulance came and began life saving measures, and as they loaded him onto the gurney, I knew that was the last time I would see him.  Tearfully and hoarse, I yelled, "Fight, Donnie, Fight!"  But, he had lost the battle and they took him away.

After he passed away, our family was in the living room remembering his youth.  He was slight, with blonde hair and big brown eyes and an infectious laugh.  He seemed to always be tanned, and we remembered him playing with trucks or his little Army men.   My father wrote a poem in remembrance of him, which captured all of our thoughts:

RUN TO THE SUN

Run to the sun o’ little one,

and in it’s magic rays

grown strong as one who’s having fun

Beginning all his days.

Run, run little legs of one

in suit of brown and blue

with hair bleached by shining sun

and little body of golden hue.

Run, run grown man you've become

In God’s eyes and warming light

Fusing with the rays of the sun

A fire of youth before the night.

Run, run, to the sun little one…　

by "Dad", Gerald A. Hinckley [RIP]

In Memory of Donnie

Donnie was cremated.  He is buried in the Williamstown (VT) Village Cemetery.  June 8, 1968 ~ November 7, 2009
~Brother, We Miss Thee~