After over a decade of investigating the paranormal, I wrote a book about the lessons I learned while doing it. In this episode, I’m sharing Chapter 4: Epic-Con at the Old Cavalier Hotel. Stick around to hear about the dead entrepreneur who’s still a bit touchy.

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Welcome to the PEEP Podcast! I’m your host Nicolle Morock, and I’m grateful you’re here! The two big ideas behind the PEEP Podcast are to show that the paranormal is more normal than most people think and to connect the science to the psi, including ESP, psychokinesis, and intuition! In this episode, I’m sharing a chapter from my book, “Please, Don’t Call Me Psychic: Stories from my paranormal life.”

But first, a quick update on my book, “Daughter of the Mystic Moon,” the Kickstarter is live through June 22^nd, 2025!  I am so grateful that I hit my minimum funding goal of $300 dollars in just under two and a half hours. That means everyone who pledges will receive their physical rewards (i.e. their books!) by the end of August and their digital rewards sooner. We also hit my first stretch goal of $750, so everyone who pledges will also receive a bonus chapter (digitally) that takes place after the story in the book is over and before the sequel, which is already forming in my mind.

We have a new stretch goal of $1,000, which is within reach as of this episode’s publication. If we hit that goal, all backers will receive digital copies of three letters from “Daughter of the Mystic Moon” characters.

Just a reminder: If you want a hardcover copy with a dust jacket, the Kickstarter is the ONLY way to receive that version of the book. It will not be available through normal retail outlets.

You can read the first chapter of Daughter of the Mystic Moon for free on my website and back the Kickstarter through next week.

Those links are in the show notes.

After the Kickstarter is done, I plan to use August to fulfill all tiers before releasing the book widely in September.

Now, on to this week’s tale – one of my personal favorite weekends with my friends in the National Society for Paranormal Investigation and Research (NSPIR). Just a quick note, my friend Tomie, in this story is a female.

Chapter 4 - NSPIR STORY: EPIC-CON AT THE OLD CAVALIER HOTEL

Geographical location: Virginia Beach, Virginia

Location type: Public, used to be the playground for the rich and famous

Claims of activity: Adolph Coors’ ghost, a little girl haunts the pool area, strange, oppressive energy in some areas, and odd activity in the fifth and sixth floor rooms

Lesson learned: Do not insult the product of a deceased entrepreneur, even if you’re only repeating what someone else said.

Back in March of 2010, a small group of NSPIR members drove up to Virginia Beach for a weekend conference of paranormal investigators. With speakers who were experts in the field such as Bishop Long, John Zaffis, and Rosemary Ellen Guiley (may she rest in peace), the weekend promised to be fun and educational. The icing on the cake was the fact that we were staying at the Old Cavalier Hotel – a historic building reported to be haunted by many ghosts including Adolph Coors, founder of Coors Brewing and possibly a participant in this story.

It’s worth noting that the double queen room in which Tomie, Carol, and I stayed was on the fifth floor, just below the room Adolph Coors was said to have occupied when he died by either jumping to his death or being pushed out the window. Wikipedia will tell you he committed suicide, but a New York newspaper article clipping we read said the window was closed when they found him, leaving us to wonder: how do you close a window behind you while purposefully jumping to your death from the sixth floor of a popular, luxury hotel?

Our first night there was a costume party and a chance to meet and greet the other conference-goers and paranormal investigators. I met a few nice Virginia Beach residents that I still keep in touch with to this day. Their contribution to the weekend helped make it memorable.

On Saturday, we spent much of the day listening to experts discuss everything from shadow people (Rosemary) to demonic possession (Bishop Long) to haunted items (John Zaffis just prior to premiering his show on the subject). I got a great deal of new ideas out of the experience.

In the evening, we went out to dinner at a nearby Irish pub, and we might have had a beer or two. Upon returning, we were entering the main doorway to the hotel when George decided that Adolph Coors might have been killed or committed suicide because his beer sucked. I reacted to his remark in surprise, and being that the others and I were a few steps ahead of George, one of our compatriots asked what he said. I repeated it word for word as we were stepping inside the lobby and immediately felt a twinge of guilt even though the words weren’t mine.

That night, many of the attendees went to the Ferry Plantation to do a late-night investigation, but NSPIR was in the habit of visiting that location regularly, so we decided to stay and check out the reported hotspots in our infamous hotel.

Among other interesting personal experiences that night, I managed to get the faint sound of a little girl singing in the indoor pool area. The pool was emptied since it was not yet tourist season and the hotel was normally closed to visitors that time of year. I admit the acoustics were odd, but when I listened back to the audio that night, I had chills hearing that voice. I let Tomie and Carol listen to it, too, without telling them what I thought I heard. They also heard the voice of a female child singing.

The following are notes that I wrote the day after returning to Raleigh in my investigations notebook. I knew I needed to write this down immediately, so I didn’t lose any details with time…

I went to sleep at about 2:10 Sunday morning. I do not remember dreaming at all. At some point, when it was still dark, I heard the sound of what seemed to be the alarm clock on the nightstand between me and Tomie click on. A loud voice said something like “Wake up, Ms. Morock!” and there was another click as if it turned off. The whole thing woke me from a dead sleep. I looked over at Tomie and she didn’t stir. I laid there for a minute trying to convince myself it was a dream. Then I realized that I had to use the bathroom.

I got up, struggled with the pocket doors that didn’t want to close and made tons of noise, and used the toilet. When I looked in the mirror while washing my hands, I got very creeped out. I still couldn’t shake what had startled me awake. I struggled with the doors again when I left the bathroom, and apologized to Tomie, the usually light sleeper, only to realize that she was still asleep.

It took me a few minutes to calm my mind and go back to sleep. I don’t remember dreaming. The next thing I do remember was a horribly loud crash coming from INSIDE the room. My first reaction to the crash in the dark was “What the ____ was that?” My next words were, “Guys, I’m turning on the light,” which I did – the one on the nightstand between Tomie and Carol’s bed and mine.

At first, I thought the crash came from the far-left corner of the room near the closet. Nothing was out of place there. The large armoire with the TV was intact and upright. Scanning farther to the right, I noticed something on the floor at the foot of my bed. It took a second to process what I was seeing. Then we realized it was the cornice that had been hanging above the window directly across from my bed. The little bench that was up against the foot of my bed had been jarred out of place by the impact but not broken.

Even stranger than its falling was the way in which it fell. Tomie’s luggage was on the floor directly beneath where it had been hanging and completely untouched. The cornice had fallen at an unexplainable angle as if it had been ripped off the wall and aimed at my bed.

Unfortunately, we moved it before we thought to take a picture of it, so the picture I have is where we placed it – out of the walkway and against a large bureau.

My initial reaction to the whole thing was surprise and adrenaline. I got a little lightheaded from the rush and had to lie down again. I never felt scared, and when I looked at the clock, it was about 6:00 AM. Carol got up and decided to shower and head downstairs to let someone know that the cornice came down of its own accord. Then Tomie and I took turns in the shower and prepared to head home to Raleigh.

Carol looked at me later in the morning and said what had already been on my mind (and prevented any more solid sleep that morning), “Niki, it looked like that was aimed at you.” The thought was a bit chilling but not frightening. I was (am) protected. God and my angels and spirit guides are watching over me, and I am not afraid. I even told whatever was in the room, “If you were trying to scare us away, you’ll have to do better than that. We’re paranormal investigators.”

I still don’t know what woke me that first time. Was it a dream, a ghost, or my spirit guides trying to warn me of something? I may never know. Tomie is astounded that she slept through my bathroom visit. Carol slept like a log anyway.

I am beyond grateful for my spiritual protectors, and I tell them every day.

We were all ready to leave when George decided he needed to make a visit to the men’s restroom one last time. [The restrooms in the area on the level below the lobby (the closest one to the parking lot) had felt very creepy when I had walked through the building the night before.] We loaded the car and were sitting in it waiting for him when I looked in the passenger side mirror and noted the strange look on George’s face as he approached the vehicle. He got in the driver’s seat, and I asked, “What?”

His answer was a little startling to all of us. “Something pushed me in the bathroom,” he said.

“Really?” I asked, trying not to laugh.

“Yes!” He explained that no one else was in there with him, and he felt a push from behind while he was relieving himself, and he got out of there pretty quickly after that.

We discussed all of our experiences of the weekend on the way home and came to the possible conclusion that Mr. Coors didn’t appreciate the comment that he heard me repeating as I walked into the lobby the evening before. No, the words weren’t mine, but they came out of my mouth. Then maybe, just maybe, he realized George had actually said it first and made sure to get a jab in before we left the property.

Dear Mr. Coors. I’m sorry if we insulted you, but I really do prefer microbrews.  

Thank you for listening!

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