The Storyteller: The life and times of a Paranormal Investigator

I first became aware of Graham Wyley in the early ‘90s, when he made several TV appearances alongside "William", the shrunken skeleton of an adult male, who had been cursed by a witch doctor, making him gradually shrink.

This unusual “corpse” had been found in an old sea chest, bricked up in the wall of a cottage in Brixham (from memory, it was in the Dashpers area, not far from where a member of my investigation group lived at the time) back in 1974.

Allegedly, anyone who ever owned it or touched it had suffered extreme misfortune or an untimely death...until “William” came into the possession of Graham and his wife, Thelma. He seemed to like them, even allowing himself to be paraded in front of the viewing public.

Graham looked into the history of his strange companion, firstly by having him examined by a Home Office pathologist, who declared it to be human remains, and then allowing mediums to communicate with his spirit during a séance.

They came up with a very disturbing backstory. This was one William Young, an 18th-century slave trader from Brixham, who, whilst out in Africa, upset and was cursed by a witch doctor, who made him gradually shrink. Starting out at 5 feet 11 inches, he ended up at just 10 inches tall before he died from an unspecified illness in 1747, aged 48. To add truth to this story, local church records contain a document stating that a small casket was purchased by the church, round about the time of his death, for the sum of sixpence.

Graham, himself, died in 2000 from throat cancer. When I heard that, I couldn’t help thinking that maybe “The Little Man’s” curse had finally caught up with him, depriving him of the ability to continue making a living through his extensive TV and radio appearances, as the cancer gradually took hold. I believe he had “William” buried with him...for safekeeping.

Originally born in Harrow, Middlesex, in 1936, Graham enjoyed a private education before going on to have a very varied career, culminating in him becoming a paranormal investigator, often compared to Harry Price and the prolific writer Peter Underwood, as he employed similar techniques to them. At one point, the media even dubbed him “Britain’s Number One Ghostbuster!”

This change of direction was quite interesting, as he started out in finance in the City of London before joining NASA as a salesman and engineer in 1955, a job he did for 17 years, before ill health made him move to a less high-powered job, running a florist/greengrocer's in Lynton.

Marrying Thelma in 1980, he eventually sold his business in the mid 80s, moving to Brixham, where his interest in the paranormal really took hold. Having studied it from an early age, his time at NASA had fed his interest in UFOs, hearing stories from several astronauts about things they had seen whilst in space.

This became a fascination with poltergeist activity, combined with the need to investigate hauntings and ghost sightings. Whilst studying the subject full-time, after the move to Brixham, he wrote a couple of books, covering sightings and experiences from the local area, that were essential reading for me whilst planning my Ghost Walks, namely “The Ghosts of Brixham” and “Strange West Country Hauntings (never before told)”. It was whilst re-reading this second book that gave me the inspiration for this article...

Published in 1989, this book has been in my collection for a long time. My original copy is now stored in an attic or garage somewhere, so when I came across it again in a second-hand bookshop in Newton Abbot last year, I bought it, as I thought it would come in handy for my research. Ever since, I’ve been dipping into it any chance I get. The other day, I found out exactly why I had to read it again, as it would appear Graham and I had a mutual friend...

In a story entitled A Night to Remember, Graham talks about a night he spent in a 300-year-old farmhouse, belonging to Gordon and Connie Glover, in Winkleigh. They wrote to him, after reading a local newspaper article of his, inviting him to spend a night with them and guaranteeing that he would be disturbed at least three times. In his book, he confirms they weren’t wrong!

At the time, the couple had only lived in the property for three years, but they were constantly experiencing many types of phenomena, including self-opening doors; electrical appliances being tampered with; voices; shadows; a monthly party being held downstairs in the middle of the night; and when they opened their bedroom door, all noises would cease, whilst overnight visitors would feel a touch on the shoulder as they slept, which woke them up. Meanwhile, outside, they heard the sound of soldiers marching past, to the beat of a drum, and a motorbike speeding by, followed by the sound of it crashing. On each occasion, they looked out, and, of course, there was nothing there.

When Graham accepted the challenge of spending a night there, he was shown to a room they called the “morgue”, as this was known to be the most active, and, sure enough, twice in the night he was disturbed by cold sensations engulfing him as he tried to sleep; one of those occasions was accompanied by noises elsewhere in the house, whilst a third time, he was awoken by a hand touching his shoulder.

Thinking that was it, as dawn broke, his room door opened, engulfing him in a cold spot again, accompanied by voices coming from the room next door. Upon investigation, there was no one present...

Feeling obliged to do some research into the property, it was discovered that it lies on a spot where ley lines, underground energy sources, cross. This is something that is often noted, where odd sensations or paranormal phenomena occur.

Evidence was also uncovered regarding several tragic deaths in the house. An elderly lady had died in a fire in the kitchen; a doctor had fallen to his death out of an upstairs bedroom window; whilst, over a hundred years ago, a three-year-old girl was killed by a pig. This death was concealed by burying her body under the stairs, at the back of the fireplace.

It’s no surprise then that the place is so active and that Connie was so proud of it, wanting to share it with interested parties, for it was she who contacted me, giving me and members of my group an invitation to visit her in her haunted home. An invitation we accepted on several occasions, meaning we got to know each other quite well.

We even had a couple of adventures together. When people she knew were experiencing odd activity in their homes, knowing of Connie’s interest in such things, she would get asked her opinion, and I would get invited along for the ride.

One trip with Connie was to a friend’s house in Appledore. They had just finished renovating an old walk-in fireplace, which had some built-in ovens, one of which had been sealed up and was found to contain some odd shoes, and some witch bottles, which were said to bring good luck to a property when bricked up in its walls.

The shoes were of interest, especially as they weren’t a pair, as they too were for good fortune. Appledore, once being a shipbuilding town, has its fair share of associated traditions. When a new ship was launched, setting off on its maiden voyage, it was customary to throw one shoe into the water behind it for the safe return of those on board. The other shoe was concealed within the home of the loved one, to be reunited upon their return. This wasn’t done lightly, for, in those days, a pair of shoes was one of the most expensive things a person could own. Was the fact the shoes were still bricked up a sign that the owners never came back?

During our visits to Connie’s farmhouse, we all agreed that there was a definite atmosphere there, and on one occasion we did experience some interference with a radio. Sadly, we never did take the opportunity to spend a whole night there, like Graham did.

I last saw Connie in 2001. By then Gordon had passed and had been buried in a nice quiet corner of their land. On that particular visit, she asked us if we would kindly move a wooden bench from the garden to the grave so she could sit comfortably and continue to chat with Gordon. We were more than happy to oblige. I believe she too has now passed, but I still like to think of her sitting there, having deep and meaningful conversations with her dearly beloved.

As we left Winkleigh, for that last time, we turned on the car radio to be confronted by the unfolding atrocity that will be forever known as 9/11. It’s true what they say: whenever major historical events occur during your lifetime, you always remember where you were and what you were doing at the time.