"Twilight was often when it began; the time of day when it became night and there would be no halting the natural conversion." This is but one line of a memoir; the true story of the infamous Perron family, the ones who kept their secrets close for thirty years. My family. "House of Darkness House of Light" is a collective memoir. It chronicles paranormal events which occurred over the course of a decade (1970-1980) in a farmhouse alive with death. Yet, it is so much more. Volume One of the trilogy invites the reader along for the ride on a supernatural excursion through history, there to commune with seven mortal souls as well as the immortal spirits they encounter. It is a mystery. A drama. Old age and new age. A timeless tale and a haunting read in every conceivable sense of the word. It is also the great work of my life...a labor of love.
My name is Andrea. It was August of 2007 when I began to chronicle my memories of a childhood spent in an ancient farmhouse in Harrisville, R.I. My four younger sisters and both of my parents soon became aware of this formidable endeavor. Though some reticence persisted, all arrived at the same conclusion: it was time to tell the truth.
To claim the dredging up of such memory was difficult is a gross understatement. My mother Carolyn suffered the most. It was her story I was telling and she fought her way through the emotional muck and mire to exhume experiences long buried. Thirty years is a long time to keep a secret yet the images were remarkably close to the surface. There are some things impossible to forget. My father and siblings were equally forthcoming, resulting in a story from the ages...for the ages.
"House of Darkness House of Light" is an inspiring testament to the resilience of the human spirit. It is likewise an exploration of immortality, including the faith and science embroiled in the history of a house where eight generations were born, lived and died before we arrived, some of whom never left at all. Essentially, we all shared space for a decade. The house is a portal to the past as well as the future. Our many questions still remain unanswered. Only one aspect of the encounter offers any clarity; a conclusion. There is indeed some form of existence beyond our current form. All else is speculation.
From the age of twelve, I have been privileged to know the truth. At fifty-two I have finally accomplished what I firmly believe was my destiny to do from the moment I took my first step across the threshold of this phenomenal place in the country. It was a duty charged; an enlistment. I closely observed what happened, absorbing each incident as it occurred. Never fearful of the dwelling or its "inhabitants", somehow I knew there was nothing to fear. Still, I felt all the distress my mother endured, as we are inextricably connected. However, I knew from the onset, from the day we moved into a structure completed in 1736, there was something sacred about the place. I could feel the energy and the power of a force which was invisible. Too young to perceive the ramifications, I approached our "new" home with the wide-eyed wonder of a child. Two hundred acres of land on which to roam free. A huge barn begging for occupants of its own -- we had been promised a horse or two, an enticement for any youngster. It was all new and different from any place we had ever seen before and the family fell deeply in love with a place that would eventually frighten most of its members, save myself. We describe it as the home of our dreams and eventual nightmares.
Something we cannot explain drew us to the farm. My mother was called to it in the most bizarre of circumstances and she answered the call. It was familial, ancestral in nature; a compulsion she could not override with good, pragmatic common sense. We were there to receive a message, though none of us has a clue about why we were chosen or asked to impart the message received. I can only assume these spirits wanted their story told. One in particular demanded acknowledgment as mistress of the house and did not appreciate the competition my mother represented. Bathsheba. A God-forsaken soul. Hers is a tragic tale; a miserable life filled with accusations of devil worship and the murder of an infant in her care. Satanism and witchcraft. Though she was acquitted, the woman never escaped the perception of her guilt and bears a grudge to this day.
Shards and fragments of this story have circulated around New England for decades. There are those who think they know what happened there, those who speak of it as if they were privy to the details. No one knew until we told the truth of an ordeal which is quite literally unbelievable, requiring a leap of faith for those who cannot believe their eyes as they read the sordid story. It is disturbing and intense; every word of it true.
My mission has been partially completed. The first volume of this trilogy has spilled out into the world and the reaction to it has been astounding. According to scientists, it posits new theory. According to theologians, it bridges the chasm between science and faith. My work has only begun. It is now incumbent upon me to usher it into the hands of those prepared to receive its message, one which I impart with humility, gratitude and love. It is a tale of good and evil; darkness and light. The existence of the spirits embody the message...they are the source of all enlightenment.
Andrea Perron was born in Rhode Island
in 1958. She is a graduate of Chatham College
with a B.A. in philosophy and English. The
author currently resides in the Atlanta area
and is preparing for the release of Volume Two
of the trilogy "House of Darkness House of Light".
