“Dear Sean, yesterday’s column disappointed me. You cannot be a true believer and believe in ghosts at the same time. God simply doesn’t work that way.

“…I wonder if you know that ghosts are actually demons. …I’m shocked that you would entertain the subject of witchcraft in your writing. Please consider me a former follower. Thanks.”

Dear Former-Follower:

You won’t read any of this, since you no longer follow me. And, for the record, I don’t blame you for unfriending a witch. If I were you I wouldn’t follow me either. If for no other reason than because this witch uses way too many commas. So, believe, me, I, totally, get, it.

I guess I really demoralized the proverbial pooch with my last column about ghosts in Gettysburg, Pennsylvania. I should have known better. You are right. Ghosts are evil. Ghosts are not holy. There can be no such thing as a holy ghost.

Well. Wait.

Let me start over.

I’ve been in Gettysburg for the last three days with my friend Bobby. We are lowly musicians, playing a week’s worth of Civil War shows at the historic Majestic Theater.

We dress in Civil War attire. We sing and fiddle 160-year-old music for visitors who come to Gettysburg. We play two shows each day. And I’m honored to say we are receiving many standing ovations. True, these ovations are usually moving toward the exits. But still.

So anyway, getting back to ghosts. Ghosts are a huge topic here in Gettysburg. This town is home to the most reported paranormal activity claims in the world. Several companies offer ghost tours. Ghosts are a big business here.

Moreover, many tourists report seeing weird things. I am currently staying in a historic hotel, for example, that is supposedly haunted.

Throughout the years, staff members and guests have allegedly seen a Civil War nurse roaming these hallways. Her name is Rachel. Others claim to have seen apparitions of Union soldiers and women in gowns dancing in the ballroom. Some have heard disembodied voices.

Just yesterday, in my hotel room, I was practicing fiddle before a performance when I, too, heard a voice. This voice was accompanied by heavy beating on the wall from the other room. The voice said, “Shut the [bleep] up in there!”

But do you know something, dear non-follower? It’s funny. Because ever since your angry email, I got curious about ghosts.

So I’ve been asking a lot of people around Gettysburg for their opinions on ghosts, which—oddly—most people tend to call “spirits.” Hardly anyone refers to them as ghosts. Interesting.

I heard many stories. I met a man who says his deceased father is an ongoing presence in his life. His father died when he was 14. But a few nights after his father’s end, he felt his dad standing at the foot of his bed, saying, “I love you, I’m not leaving you.”

I met a young woman who still talks to her deceased mother every day. Her mom was killed by a drunk driver. The woman says that on the night of the accident, she was in a different US state. And yet at the exact moment of her mother’s death, she felt someone wrap their arms around her. It was a physical embrace. Ever since that day, she has had daily experiences with her mother.

By far, however, the best story was from a teenage boy who I will call Walker. Walker died “clinically” from spinal meningitis. He was dead for several minutes on the operating table.

In his out-of-body state, Walker says he saw God. Also standing beside God were members of his family whom he’d never met. His great-grandfather, great-grandmothers, etc.

“We’re always with you,” said his ancestors. “We’re always here, helping you, and we love you.”

Which I find amazing. Amazing that love could outlast death itself, or be so strong that it transcends life. Amazing that love could be so mysterious and omnipresent.

Or save a witch like me.