“I regret to write that James A. Garfield has been assassinated. Maybe there is some truth to this twenty-year curse. Is a nefarious group using this supposed curse to cover their tracks in superstition? Or is there a mysterious Native American curse plaguing the Presidents. I cannot see a pattern. Several American Presidents have gone to war with the natives, but they do not all die mysteriously. If the treasury is behind it, then why not kill Andrew Jackson or Rutherford B. Hayes who both hampered national banking. Even if powerful plantation owners were behind it, that would not explain Harrison. Zachary Tyler does not even fit into the twenty-year window. Maybe this is all a coincidence. I guess we will have to wait and see in the year 1900.
“What leader that hopes to be worth their salt has not studied the greatest leaders of our past? Well, I have read about Abraham Lincoln and now fear for my life. It was said that he prophesied his own death through his dreams. Nightmares is more what I would call them, for now I am afflicted with the same visions. Mine are not as clear as Lincoln’s. They are never the same and never consistent. Except in one factor. My death. My assassination. Why did I ever take on this role to become the President of the United States? I called upon a tarot reader to verify my feelings and instantly the verdict was the same. The Death card. I am in grave danger. I am afraid at every event that I attend. I cannot help but see my murderous end around every corner. I do not wish to die but I also fear leaving the office. I will never recover from such an act of cowardice. What good is dying to preserve a reputation though? Please God, spare me from this terrible end. I promise to do better in everything I do.
“Against my wishes, it appears that my wife has decided to call a séance within the Executive Mansion. If the subject of this event escapes to the public, it could ruin my reputation. There is no controlling her in these matters and she will not concede to finding another location. She grieves for our two lost sons, and I would be a liar if I did not say that I too wish this séance to be a success. I miss my boys every day. Well, the event began as one might expect. Madame Torelli was dressed in all black as if to attend a funeral and spoke in a mystical manner as a storyteller might to young children. As amusing as it was, I was anxious to get on with the séance. We covered all the windows with a heavy black cloth. This was relieving as I cannot imagine the headlines tomorrow if we were to be exposed. Lanterns brought in by the psychic set the room in a green hue. Mary invited a few friends including a senator with his wife. Madame Torelli sat us all in a circle around the table while holding hands. She began with a deep humming which chilled me as it was a deeper sound than a woman should be able to produce. Her voice rang out as her own but boomed and echoed mysteriously. I would consider having her give speeches on my behalf with those lungs. The room changed and I could not immediately place why until I could see my breath upon the air. It had become intolerably cold in the room when moments before I was uncomfortable from the summer heat. A wind filled the air with no open windows and the flames in the lanterns struggled to stay lit. Madame Torelli yelled out the names of my two boys Edward and Willie. My heart pounded as I realized the moment would soon come when I might see them again and hopefully hear their voices. All the lanterns extinguished at once and one of the women let out a squeal. I heard the twang of a banjo and the slight ring of a bell. There was much commotion, and the senator was able to relight one of the lanterns. We were all aghast when we saw that Madame Torelli was face down on the table with no sign of life. The husband of one of Mary’s friends touched her back to check on her but quickly recoiled his hand claiming she was ice cold. We feared she was dead when she abruptly sat up and two fully white eyes stared straight into mine. She spoke in a voice that was her own and yet echoed like two people saying the same thing at once. Drums began and I could hear the rustling of many people in the room all chanting like the native people do in ceremony. She spoke “It has been twenty years! Lincoln, leader of the army in the north, he who shall free slaves and uphold the strength of the nation, shall die. He shall remain on this Earth until his great work is completed. This is what shall be!” At first, I was offended that this woman had turned my grieving against me for a charade, probably political in nature. I was taken aback as the color returned to her and her face grew mortified. She began crying hysterically and apologizing that nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She even admitted that most of the time she fakes reactions, and her audience creates the mood. My premonition will come true.”Against my wishes, it appears that my wife has decided to call a séance within the Executive Mansion. If the subject of this event escapes to the public, it could ruin my reputation. There is no controlling her in these matters and she will not concede to finding another location. She grieves for our two lost sons, and I would be a liar if I did not say that I too wish this séance to be a success. I miss my boys every day. Well, the event began as one might expect. Madame Torelli was dressed in all black as if to attend a funeral and spoke in a mystical manner as a storyteller might to young children. As amusing as it was, I was anxious to get on with the séance. We covered all the windows with a heavy black cloth. This was relieving as I cannot imagine the headlines tomorrow if we were to be exposed. Lanterns brought in by the psychic set the room in a green hue. Mary invited a few friends including a senator with his wife. Madame Torelli sat us all in a circle around the table while holding hands. She began with a deep humming which chilled me as it was a deeper sound than a woman should be able to produce. Her voice rang out as her own but boomed and echoed mysteriously. I would consider having her give speeches on my behalf with those lungs. The room changed and I could not immediately place why until I could see my breath upon the air. It had become intolerably cold in the room when moments before I was uncomfortable from the summer heat. A wind filled the air with no open windows and the flames in the lanterns struggled to stay lit. Madame Torelli yelled out the names of my two boys Edward and Willie. My heart pounded as I realized the moment would soon come when I might see them again and hopefully hear their voices. All the lanterns extinguished at once and one of the women let out a squeal. I heard the twang of a banjo and the slight ring of a bell. There was much commotion, and the senator was able to relight one of the lanterns. We were all aghast when we saw that Madame Torelli was face down on the table with no sign of life. The husband of one of Mary’s friends touched her back to check on her but quickly recoiled his hand claiming she was ice cold. We feared she was dead when she abruptly sat up and two fully white eyes stared straight into mine. She spoke in a voice that was her own and yet echoed like two people saying the same thing at once. Drums began and I could hear the rustling of many people in the room all chanting like the native people do in ceremony. She spoke “It has been twenty years! Lincoln, leader of the army in the north, he who shall free slaves and uphold the strength of the nation, shall die. He shall remain on this Earth until his great work is completed. This is what shall be!” At first, I was offended that this woman had turned my grieving against me for a charade, probably political in nature. I was taken aback as the color returned to her and her face grew mortified. She began crying hysterically and apologizing that nothing like this had ever happened to her before. She even admitted that most of the time she fakes reactions, and her audience creates the mood. My premonition will come true.
– Abraham Lincoln 1864″
I think I’ve heard something about Abraham Lincoln haunting the White House. That doesn’t really have anything to do with this, but it made me think about it. I just wonder if they opened a portal or something in the White House by doing a seance. Like what they talk about in Ghostbusters. The White House would definitely be an amazing place to bring a Ouija board. Just remember to say goodbye!
“This letter was found amongst William Henry Harrison’s possessions. I am not a superstitious man, but this threat should not be taken lightly.
-John Tyler1841
*Then my dream may become reality – Abraham Lincoln
**No, I do not want this! – James A. Garfield
***This is merely coincidence. – William McKinley
****Then my fate is sealed. – Warren G. Harding
*****Maybe a third term in office was not the smartest idea. – F.D.R.
******I need to tell everyone what I know first! – John F. Kennedy
*******This is just nonsense! – Ronald Reagan
********Correction, my wife may have saved me from this curse. – Reagan
*********Hopefully it didn’t just skip a turn! – George W. Bush”
I’ve never heard of this curse. It seems pretty air tight, but weren’t there a few other Presidents that died in office? Plus none of these deaths seem related.
The U.S. President's Book of Secrets 