Having arrived safe and sound for the Wings Over Texas Airshow, Paul and I had one extra day to explore Corpus Christi before flying the PT-19 back home. Using our US Navy contacts, we arranged to take a guided Hard Hat tour of the USS Lexington Museum.
Commissioned in 1942, USS Lexington set more wartime records than any other Essex-class aircraft carrier, and was the oldest working carrier in the US fleet when retired in 1991. She participated in nearly every major operation in the Pacific Theatre of World War II, and spent a total of 21 months in combat. During that time, Lexington’s airplanes destroyed some 850 enemy aircraft and assisted in sinking or damaging nearly a million tons of enemy shipping. Lexington participated in the Battle of Leyte Gulf, the decisive American naval victory that has been described as “pornography for surface warfare officers.” She suffered a torpedo hit in December 1943 that killed 9 crew, and a kamikaze hit in November 1944 that killed 50 crew and injured 100. The Lexington was reported sunk four times by enemy propaganda which earned her the nickname, “Blue Ghost.”
Now a permanent museum, the USS Lexington hosts tourists, special and private events, interactive and educational seminars, and paranormal exploration. Literally, you can visit the museum’s website and book a paranormal investigatory tour. Paul and I were not interested in such an experience. Personally, I find the exploitation of wartime deaths to be insulting, particularly when you recognize that most wars are fought by kids who are far from home and most likely terrified, while the proponents of human conflict remain comfortable and safely removed from the hell of their own devices. Still, as our Hard Hat tour guide was about to prove, sometimes the ghosts seek you out.
Our tour guide, “Joe”, was a retired US Navy veteran with plenty of stories of his own. In his words, “I’ve seen men burned to death and I’ve seen men cut in half by arresting cables.” For the Hard Hat Tour, we met in a side room, issued flashlights and protective head gear, and signed waivers. We would be descending into the bowels of the ship and the tour would continue until well after the museum was closed.
The Hard Hat Tour took us down dimply lit corridors, ladders, and areas of the ship not accessible to the general public. Joe was impressively knowledgeable about the inner workings of the ship, explaining in great detail the machinery, history, and roles of the crew during wartime. What made the experience more impressive was knowing that Joe worked as a volunteer — He led tours, worked to educate the public, and helped maintain the ship out of love, respect, and sense of duty to the Service.
As we toured the ship, I experienced the unshakable feeling that we were not alone. Joe shared a number of paranormal experiences that he witnessed firsthand. Once while conducting a safety briefing, Joe and his tour watched a group of sailors wearing period uniforms walk calmly down a corridor and descend a staircase that has been welded shut since World War II. On another tour, he came across a group of men that simply vanished when approached. “We’ve heard airplanes land on the flight deck, and gunfire and explosions long after dark during the night tours.”
That feeling of being watched followed us throughout our tour. In the food packing area adjacent to the ship’s galley, Joe stopped mid-sentence and turned to quietly interact with something that wasn’t there. I lifted my phone to capture a video, and the camera glitched. For that moment, the video function would not work. The screen went blank, and the normal operations of my smartphone were completely unresponsive. This happened twice during the tour — once in the galley, and once in the machine shop. Another video glitched partway through, with the audio coming across as garbled and interfered. Joe commented, “Most people don’t actually see an apparition with their own eyes, but your smartphone will capture things your eyes can’t see.”
He described several such encounters, where professional paranormal investigators set up monitoring equipment in the more active areas of the ship and carried out conversations with multiple entities.
On a personal note, I have experienced firsthand that existence continues after death. Call it what you want — apparitions, ghosts, specters — ranging in orientation from peaceful to malevolent, and ranging in purpose from dedicated guardian to lost soul. This can be a difficult subject to discuss, simply because the meaning of life, and what happens afterward, is open to each individual’s interpretation.
Death was once described to me as simply “going into another room” and is neither the end, nor is it the beginning. Therefore, passing away is a transcendence to another time and space, like walking into a room and closing the door behind you.
I like to think of this life as yet another chapter in an eternal existence. The uncertainty of what happens next ought to make us appreciate the life we have here. At least, that is the effect it has on me.
— Dan Wegmueller is the owner of Wegmueller Farms and his column appears regularly in the Times. His website is https://www.farmforthought.org.
