Hendricks county sheriffs department

So I wanted to open this thread to discuss the infamous s03e07 and s0308 and argue it's probably not as bad as you remember it. We just didn't get it at the time I think.
First a quick episodes plot summary. Of course I'm going off memory so forgive any inaccuracies and my rambling as well.
These two episodes are about the same case btw for those who don't remember.
The team is investigating the case about a series horrific attacks on farm animals in some small rural town in America. The worry is the kind of creature behind this attacks if there is one or exposing individuals orchestrating this whole thing in case it's a hoax or premeditated crime. Dr. Hendricks theorizes something like a snake had crawled and eaten it's way in, to the gums and portions of animal's Brian and crawled out leaving the carcass in stable or grassland. The weird thing is some other animals present during the attack are dead silent, not making any noise even if pushed to do so like they're terrified Peter guesses. And this silence seems to be contagious. The team was notified by an old acquaintance of Peter, Dan Drake a wealthy man residing in his summer mansion. Calling out of desperation for his wife's disease. They're greeted by Dan and his wife Shirley (Her first appearance) who has lost her ability to speak it seems after she found their dog's corpse in the backyard by herself, attacked in the same manner.
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During this episode the team is having a hard time because of a unique challenge they're facing since no one seems willing to help. Everyone seems to be covering something up. The farmers are unwilling to let them get their hands on carcasses and investigate the farm. The local sheriff thinks this is not a big deal and doesn't help with anything and wants them out as soon as possible. The Genetic/Aggeculture lab doesn't let them in until they go in with Shirley who works there in second episode so Lindsey can secretly search the third floor to gather some info using Shirley's key card and lab coat but she gets arrested and spends the rest of episode in sherif's custody. Little decisions like this that subverted prominent tropes of the genre at the time I believe were very influential for all the hate these episodes get after all these years. And of course the ending wasn't a fan favorite either. At the end after steal carcass of an attacked sheep, after laying all sorts of traps and different experiments and cool theories they tease us with to explain the phenomena. At the end of the second episode they're being escorted out of the city by town authorities due to trespassing and multiple other charges and Frank commands them to stop the investigation since the case has been closed and they're needed elsewhere. The episode ends with Helsinki being told by a woman on the phone he did the right thing with sinister music playing.
This episode gave us some great stuff. Muthax, Shirley Drake which later became a fan favorite, And a crazy ride of suspense with no clear answers in the end.

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Buckle in, it's a long one.
This is not a work of fiction, this is my actual experiences and you can check Google Earth for the address if you so desire. But please read to the end before you do. If you recognize the address you will know who I am, so just message me a PM if you do.
When I was young my father secured a job working in the town of Yarmouth, Nova Scotia here in Canada. This was around 1988 if my memory serves me correctly. We moved from one end of the province (Cape Breton) to the other quite literally and for the first month or so we stayed in an apartment until my parents found this great old house for a decent price at the time.
The first time I saw it the house gave off a presence, not evil or sad, but it seemed happy that it's walls would be once again filled with people and that it was a proud old home. For reference the house was built in 3 parts. The oldest was basically a huge box, with very elegant but basic wood work. The next part was built on not too long afterwards and was more of a rectangle but with a Victorian styling that met the older style. And the newest part was build in the 1970s and tacked onto the back of the Victorian part so the house was shaped like an L with the top of it being the oldest.
I was told to wait at the house while the rest of my family (dad, mom, older brother and sister and a twin) drove to the realtor's office to get the keys because the moving truck was coming. While I sat outside I had my first experience.
In the room that was to become my bedroom on the second floor I could see the curtains pull aside and just a dark figure standing there. I thought it was a person because it took a minute for the curtains to droop back down to where they were. I told my dad but all he said was it was probably a draft since the house was a few hundred years old.
We finally got our stuff moved in and were pretty stoked to explore the house. It was huge and for a long time when solicitors came to one door on the main part of the house they'd end up going to the door on the newer part of the home as well thinking it was apartments.
Over time and with visits from neighbors we eventually learned that the house was built for a sea captains daughter and her new husband in the mid to late 1700's. After that it was a Civil War hospital (keep in mind that Nova Scotia was once almost part of the New England States), a home for the mentally challenged, a retirement home, a school house and had a few other hats I can't recall. The old school bell system was still in effect though, it was fun to piss off the neighbors with it because the outside bell was ridiculously loud. Also in the basement a stone was carved with a Civil War officers name which was really a cool find.
Anyways, over the next few years a lot of things happened in the home. The toilets would randomly flush, or you'd hear running feet upstairs and voices echoing through the house. This in itself drove my father nuts, he was an ex infantry officer and had no qualms about a fist fight or using a belt or whatever on us if it got pissed off. He was pretty abusive by todays standards, even by standards of years ago (that's another story though and it wasn't completely his fault between shift work and my poisonous mother).
One of the first clear experiences I ever had was in the summer of I think 1990. I was sitting in my bedroom playing Nintendo trying to use my brother's Arcade pad with my feet for one character and the controller in my hands for the other (may have been the SNES) when I heard voices clearly downstairs.
"Alright unpack the bags before anything else" "Are we going to start baking cookies soon?" "As soon as the bags are unpacked we can start them" "Yay"
I may have a few of the words mixed up but it was clear. Very very clear. And as a kid I waited for a bit until I thought they might be done and I wandered down stairs.
And my mother and sister were just getting into the house and had no intentions of making cookies at all when I asked where they were.
After this I had a friend come over and ask why nobody answered the door when he rang the bell. I had no idea what he was talking about but he said that he was a light in the house moving around and when he knocked on the door someone looked out at him but he didn't know who. I told him that would be impossible because we had gone to my grandfather's funeral for 3 days which was about 3.5 hours away.
To backtrack a bit I had mentioned my father, people running and toilets flushing. For about 3 years my father would sit at the supper table and have his weekly rant about "Stop f*cking running in the house, it wakes me up" and "If you are coming home from school and I catch you you're grounded for a week". He actually got into a fight with my older brother over it several times.
One night at supper time he said he had to get a plumber in, and he told us what happened.
He was sleeping during the day to prepare for his night shift (he worked for the Coast Guard at the time but as an on land radio operator) when he heard running up the stairs. He jumped up, bolted to the stairs and ran up them trying to catch whoever was home. He saw the bathroom door at the top of the stairs close and ran in to see the handle on the toilet pull down and flush.
For a while he wouldn't sleep during the day in the house. He slept in the truck, or went to a friends house so he wasn't alone. I still think there was more to the experience because my dad didn't believe in squat for the paranormal, unlike my mother who 100% did. After this there was a shift in his belief and not once did he ever mention the running or flushing until almost 20 years later.
But wait, there's more.
People would come from the neighborhood and ask about the place at random times, or other kids would hear the stories about the old haunted house we lived in. We had sleep overs a lot with random kids who wanted to check it out. Why? Because that's how things were back in the day. There was even a room where someone had died mysteriously (with records to back it up). I made some friends that way...kind of strange though.
Around 1992-3 my mother decided that they would have a séance in the kitchen. A few family friends popped by as well as a descendant of someone we knew who died there. My mom set out the candles, turned off the lights and made sure noise couldn't be heard from anywhere else. I believe about 8-10 people sat around the table and nothing at all happened for a while. Then someone had their legs grabbed and tugged under the table as if it were a joke, and that caused a stir. It went quiet again and I'm not sure how but someone heard the person beside them choking. The lights came on and the choking stopped, he got up and had his neck looked at then left.
To this day he will not step foot on that property. Not after having faint handprints left on his neck. He was also the family member of the person being called to.
At times when sleeping you'd also feel cats crawl on the bed, or someone sit on the edge like they were looking over you. It was comforting more than creepy and we all got used to it. The weirdest thing was the dreams. I can't even kid that I dreamt of places and things I had never even remotely though existed, people as well. It's odd that as a young adolescent I had a reoccurring dream of a small house by a small river, some willow trees by it and a blond wife. I tried drawing it as a kid and the thought still gives me a fond 'memory' which is messed up.
My family had experiences as well. My sister would say someone was watching her at night, my older brother said some guy in a black suit would tell him to get out of his room (which now that I think about it the room was pretty small so maybe a servants chambers). My twin had experiences as well.
The final experience I had in the home was when I was 15. At this point my parents had separated, older brother and sister moved out (foster homes, etc, I don't remember) and my brother and I had moved with my mother about an hour and a half away. A few months after moving out my dad came and picked us up and we went back there since he still lived there (he was on a career course that had him staying in a hotel for a bit in Halifax at the time).
After a bit of talking we pulled a few cots into the kitchen since the heat was turned off in the rest of the house. We used a space heater and the oven to warm it up and it was pretty nice. When it came time to sleep we did.
Until a few hours later (possibly midnight but that's pretty cliché).
Directly above us we heard a huge piece of furniture being scraped across the floor. We heard footsteps. We heard things being scraped even more and dropped. And we heard voices. Til today I can recall exactly what was said.
"Come on, we have to get this out of here. It's all gone tomorrow" "We have to get it out soon or we won't" "Lift that up"
Clear as a bell that night. It woke us all up and we asked my dad who was upstairs since he did have a border staying at one point (he was away travelling for a bit, was an artist). I recall him saying "Just ignore it, go back to sleep". And we did, not thinking about it much more.
In the morning he wouldn't even admit to hearing a thing. Absolute denial. My brother and I went to check upstairs to see what was moved around.
Now this house as I had said was old. Really old. In the Yarmouth County Museum it's one of the houses that is on a map from the 1700's and it showed. The main staircase to the second floor was about 5 feet wide and towards the top spiraled a bit to the left (90 degrees). When you got to the top you could go to the newer part of the house by turning a sharp right and walking through a door and if you looked before you went into the door you could look straight down the stairs.
The other way upstairs was through a servants entrance and steps. Do a search for this and you'll see that at my current size, 6' and 250 pounds and shaped like a wrestler, I probably couldn't get up those stairs easily nowadays. This was the route we went upstairs to check it out.
And when we got there the only thing to walk on was a few boards because my father had pulled them all up to upgrade the electrical. He didn't want to go through the ceiling in the kitchen because it was a sub-ceiling and he had only recently found that the original was a pounded copper tile ceiling 2 feet above that. And yes, over the years we found some really weird stuff that was hidden because it went out of style, or was undesirable, etc.
So that told us the voices, stomping, dropping stuff, and so on that we heard the night before wasn't people. At least not from today. It's probably one of the best experiences I've ever had in my life regarding the paranormal and sticks with me to this day as clearly as can be.
Yarmouth is an old town, once the richest in Americas, and I don't mean the US or Canada alone. I mean the richest in the Americas. If you go there today you'll see a lot of simply gorgeous architecture that's extremely old as well. And most of it has stories of hauntings. I'd almost say that the town, with its stories past and present chock full of murders, rum running, pirates, rich sea captains, Civil War hospitals and so on make it one of the top haunted towns in North America.
But this has to come to an end. After going back home my dad came to visit. He told us that the house had burned down; the fire department believed it was possibly arson or rodents in the electrical.
I dream about the house today like it still exists sometimes, and I ache to go back before my family was fractured. The house deserved better than to just burn down. Strange enough the house beside it, which was built by the same family, burnt a few years later. The old nunnery and the original sea captains homes still stand to this day though, and I'm waiting until some day they go on sale and I have the money.
Because I know from the past being told that the Cann House is also haunted.

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