For almost two weeks in May 1979 the entire country was transfixed over a small grey masonry house on Collins Avenue where a ghost had taken up residence and terrorized its occupants-Cedric and Sarah Jane Campbell, two elderly retirees and their 30 year autistic son.
Thousands of Bahamians over two weeks gathered outside the house “to see the ghost”, as the police and fire department set up barricades, eventually having to use water hoses to get the crowds off the streets.
A Witch doctor from Zambia, and another from the Seychelles Island along with a number of Christian clergymen arrived at the house to determine the nature of the ghost and to pray the evil away.
The story unfolded that a close friend of the Campbell’s who lived further down the street had died about a week earlier and there may have been some “dabbling in black magic” which got out of hand the night the neighbor was buried in the Old Trail Cemetery.
Rocks reportedly pounded the house, an earth quake like shake settled on the small property breaking all of the dishes and china in the weather beaten kitchen cabinet, pottery and figurines were smashed and there were reports that the ghost rode on the back of dogs, and beat them with a whip as they howled and raced around the yard. The son was bruised on his legs and back from invisible whippings and the elderly Mr. Campbell, remained stoic as if he knew more about what was transpiring than he was prepared to admit.
Many prayers later, sprinkling of Holy Water and a few other talisman and rituals the ghost just went away. The Bahamas is a place for ghost or as we say in the local language, “sperrit does walk.”
In Family Islands like Andros and Cat Island and Exuma ghosts’ stories are an ancient part of the folklore.
There is the headless ghost from Orange Creek who would greet people walking home from their farms in the late evening with a polite bow and remove his hat to reveal he had no face. There is the taxi ghost of Nassau who would flag cabs down and ask to be taken to an area near a cemetery, politely ask to get out but when the driver looked over his shoulder to collect his fare the back seat is empty… the ghost has gone home.
Graveyards not only hold history in this country but they carry a significant part of the mystical poetry of the culture.
It is not uncommon for an adversary to threaten to write a foe’s name down on brown paper, tie it up with black thread and throw it in the grave yard.
And if you are serious about changing your fortune for the better you can enter a grave yard, completely naked, and walk backwards to the tomb or plot of someone you know, and as you walk you call out the person’s name and ask them to grant your wish. There are actual Police Reports where people have been arrested for this practice in the grave yard.
There is also a predilection amongst many for a dead person to come to a Bahamian in a dream and bring a lucky number to play in the daily lotteries.
Pat Rahming, architect and folk song icon coined the phrase, “you aint serious if you only got one dream book”. It is not unusual to find the Bible on top of the dresser in a Bahamian home and an assortment of dream books- King Tut, Three Wiseman, and Aunt Sally - to be stashed in the pull out drawer.
Then there are the potions and ointments and candles and crosses and talisman, all of which are said to work more effectively with a sprinkling of grave yard dirt. If you really want a powerful potion or substance nothing in the Bahamas has the compelling power of grave yard dirt, according to the stories.
Here in this country Bride of Chucky, Jeepers Creepers, Frankenstein, Night of the Living Dead – are more likely to fetch a good laugh in the theatre than cause a sleepless night.
Try to get a Bahamian to take a short cut through a grave yard at night or let the word spread that the taxi ghost has returned and has been turning up in the back seat of person’s cars, and you will see how easily Bahamians scare. Show a Bahamian “a bottle” hanging in a tree and no matter how sweet and succulent the mango, avocado or guava they will not eat it unless it is given to them by the owner of the orchard. Such bottles are said to be packed with graveyard dirt and scrolls which when disturbed will wake a ghost to haunt a trespasser or thief.
Many rake and scrape songs have been written about the “Bug-ga-mon” another word for ghost. “I saw one bug-ga-mon the other night,” sang The Ancient Man, one of the country’s new emerging balladeers.
The Haitian culture has strengthened the tale about the Zombie.
It goes like this. For a big handsome fee, the Haitian Voodoo priest can cast a spell on your enemy and turn him or her into a “living dead zombie” where they will be doomed to tote coffee beans on the mountains of Port Au Prince for eternity.
Just about everyone in Crooked Island and Acklins has seen a “Bug-ga-mon”.