A Spook at the Bedside

Ever since the movie “Ghosts” graced the screens of America’s cinema houses, I have received letters and telephone calls from those who believe they have seen dead people walking around.

This is not an unusual occurrence. Someone is always seeing a ghost somewhere, whether it is Elvis Presley in a supermarket line or Marilyn Monroe on a carousel horse.

A popular movie legitimizes what we think we see and makes it all seem somehow plausible.

Among those who communicated with me, one elderly woman swore she saw the ghost of Ronald Reagan in Century City. When I told her Reagan was still alive, she gasped and said, “He is?”

It was such a shock, I had to stay on the phone several minutes to calm her fears. Finally convinced the ex-president was as alive as he’s ever been, she thanked me and hung up.

The most intriguing ghost story I heard was about a dog who died of old age but who continued to bark at strangers even after death.

The owner played a tape for me of a dog barking and swore it was his dead pet, Jeremiah. But since all dogs sound essentially alike, I was skeptical.

To prove it, he invited me to his house one night and we sat in silence for almost an hour, listening for the dead dog.

Nothing happened, and I began to feel like a fool sitting in darkness waiting for a bark from beyond, so I said to hell with it and left.

The latest ghost to enter my life is that of an old lady who haunts Valley Presbyterian Hospital in Van Nuys.

Several employees of the hospital told me that not since Hulk Hogan visited the maternity ward has a presence, living or dead, caused such a stir.

I don’t know whose old lady she is. She appears after sundown, standing in a corner of an orthopedic ward, reading to herself, not saying a word.

One caller said the hospital’s administrator became so concerned he asked the chaplain to bless the room and, we presume, to exorcise the ghost.

I telephoned the administrator, Robert Bills, whose secretary seemed startled at the revelation. No one wants to sign on at a hospital, I suppose, and learn she is working at Amityville House.

She said Bills would call me back, but, of course, he never did.

I next telephoned the hospital chaplain, the Rev. Sharon Johnson, who, when I told her what I wanted, said, “Oh, God.”

One must assume, since Sharon is a person of the cloth, she intended the comment in a prayerful manner, possibly to bless the telephone and cleanse it of evil influence.

“I have someone in the room,” she said, “I’ll call you back.”

It was said with such apprehension I wondered if she might be in conference with the apparition itself, but I guess I’ll never know.

Unfortunately, even religious people are cursed with secular fears. Instead of calling back, she had a public relations man telephone to say everything was just fine.

“No problems here,” he assured me in the kind of mollifying tone PR people work years to effect. Right off, I didn’t believe him.

His name is Steve Sibilsky. He did a slow dance around the subject for several minutes, during which these comments emerged:

“Why no, I’m not aware of anyone seeing anything.”

Then, “Well, I’ve heard a little about it.”

And, “I guess there are some concerns of some people.”

However: “But there’s no pattern or anything.”

Sibilsky explained that Sharon Johnson prayed for many reasons, and in her repertoire are a number of prayers to “alleviate fears.”

The picture emerged of a chaplain praying from one end of the hospital to the other, for reasons that ranged from requests for successful surgery to pleas for hassle-free insurance coverage.

“Did she exorcise a ghost?” I asked Sibilsky.

He paused for a moment and then, in a tone that had lost much of its tranquilizing quality, said, “The basic situation is Sharon went to an area of the hospital and said a prayer to allay concerns of people. That’s it.”

“But was the prayer intended to rid a ward of ghosts?”

“She prays for all kinds of things. I’ve never seen a ghost myself and have never spoken to anyone who has.”

Sibilsky’s evasive manner convinces me someone at the hospital saw the spectral old lady and complained to a boss. Sharon Johnson was thereupon summoned to get rid of the ghost.

I have no way of knowing whether her prayer worked, but I have alerted my operatives to watch for transparent old ladies hanging around the orthopedic ward.

They might also keep their ears open for a barking dog who is nowhere to be seen.