It’s almost impossible to believe in the unbelievable nowadays.

With so much oversaturating stimulation from the media and movies, even the most inexplicable of events can be discredited as having been a trick of the senses through special effects. In a world of glitz and glitter, it is becoming perpetually placating to the senses and harder to succumb to anything ethereal, let alone to believe in miracles. So I set out to prove this theory right.

On Oct. 25, while investigating a local legend, the Egyptian Theatre, I set out with the intent to disprove the alleged ghost rumors once and for all. Accompanied by Brian Dennison, the leader of the local ghost-busting organization DeKalb Area Ghost Researchers (DAGR), I entered the Egyptian Theatre determined to find proof of the resident ghosts, Irve Kummerfeldt and Bob.

After the Northern Star article printed Oct. 13 by music critic Evan Thorne, I was intrigued that Alex Nerad, director of operations for the Egyptian Theatre, would go on record and say there really are paranormal residents living within the old art-deco venue. It seemed extreme to go as far to “affectionately name” the more “ornery of the two, Bob.” My first thought was, “They got to be kidding.” I soon came to find out they were serious.

It was midnight when we entered the theater. Already I it felt necessary to look over my shoulder, as we each felt the presence of something or someone’s eyes upon us. I constantly peered over my right shoulder, hoping to catch the culprit, yet every time I looked, there was nothing. We then set up the tape recorder and slowly moved from the first aisle out into the theater and all its nooks and crannies.

For about an hour, there was nothing to be found. While searching the third aisle, however, Dennison’s temperate laser gauge picked up a sudden drop in climate. A low noise arose behind us. We carefully listened to what sounded like a groaning, and became uncomfortable.

We decided it was time to change locations and swiftly moved to a nearby area that seemed safer than the chilly “hot spot,” as Dennison called it. Inching closer to where we felt the fear, Dennison and I tried to get a clear reading on the sound. No sooner did we gain enough courage to move another step forward when the electromagnetic field detector started to light up like a jack-o-lantern. And then, just as swiftly as the happening arose, it fell to complete silence. We later checked and confirmed the EVP — electromagnetic voice phenomena — after listening to the tape recorder we had strategically placed in a nearby row when we first began.

Imagine my surprise as I came up to Mr. Nerad, told him what happened and listened as he nonchalantly explained, “Oh, yeah, that happens all the time. They are always here. Watching over things. Making sure everything is OK. This place wouldn’t be the same without them.”

Looking into the ethereal isn’t something I do everyday, and after this experience I don’t think I will be doing it again for a long time. I believe something happened, although I couldn’t begin to tell you what exactly — just that some seem to refuse to take dead for an answer.