In the year 2009, I moved to Cambridge, Ontario, where I met my soon-to-be wife, Carol. We were driving through town every day for about two months as I worked in Brantford. One day as we were on our way through town, I asked Carol if she had ever been in Café 13, as she had lived in Cambridge for about 10 years. She said, “No”. I told her there is something about the place. A familiar feeling. About three months later in March 2010, we finally stopped in and sat at the bar to order a drink. The staff and the regulars who frequented Café 13 were all very friendly. It was not your average bar. We instantly became part of their family, as if we had always gone there. After we received our drinks, I asked where the washrooms were. The bartender pointed me down the stairs to the basement and instructed me to go to the end of the hall on the left. As I was walking down, I felt a young presence. I continued on through the small hallway where the Café had pictures of its history, the previous owners, and newspaper clippings. As I was reading, the washroom door opened, but no one was there. As I walked over to the washroom, I heard a kid’s voice. He said, “Did you see my mom?” I said, “No.” He continued to say he was looking for her. I asked him what his name was, and he said, “Tommy.” I asked Tommy how long he had been there. He replied, “A very long time.” He asked me if I could help him because nobody would talk to him or has talked to him in a long while. I told him I would try, but I had to go and would be back another day. He said to me, “Do you promise?” I told him yes, and that I would be back. One week later, we stopped back in at Café 13. I was walking back toward the basement stairs when I saw an apparition of a lady at the top of the stairs.
Pictured above: The downstairs basement hallway where I spoke with Tommy.
I felt like I had met her before or had known her. I continued to go
downstairs to where the washrooms were, and there was Tommy at the bottom looking up at me.
He said, “You came back! Did you see my mom?” I
told him I saw a young lady looking down from the top of
the basement stairs. Tommy said, “The man won’t let me
go upstairs, and the lady can’t come down. Can you go
talk to the lady?”
I told him I couldn’t talk to her just yet. I just had a
glimpse of her. I told Tommy that if she trusts me, she
will talk to me. But it could take some time. He continued
to ask me if I would try, and I told him I would.
We stopped in at the Café 13 many times over the next
few weeks, getting to know the people and also talking with
Tommy. I also saw the lady, just a glimpse here and there.
The weather soon warmed up, and Café 13 opened
up their patio for the summer. We stopped in to have
a drink and lunch, sitting out on the patio.
Pictured above: The third floor of Café 13.
Most of the people were outside enjoying the weather on the patio
with just a few patrons inside. I went inside to walk down
to the washroom, and the lady was standing at the top of
the stairs again. She didn’t move from the top of the stairs;
she smiled at me, and right then I knew who she was. Her name was Emily. She finally spoke to me for the
first time. She said, “I can’t stay on the first floor too long
because the man won’t let me, but my son is trapped in
the basement. Can you come to the third floor?”
I told her that I would ask the owner. I went to find
Adam, the owner of Café 13. I explained to Adam that I did paranormal investigating, and I asked him if I could do
an investigation of Café 13. He said yes.
Later I asked the staff if there were any strange things,
paranormal activity, going on while they worked. They said
that people saw a little boy in the basement and a lady on
the third floor. I explained to them I did paranormal investigations
and did one a few years ago across the street at
the Fiddler Green Bar. I continued to say that there was a
young lady that took her life at the Fiddlers Green and she
was pregnant at the time. I told them that the lady on the
third floor of Café 13 was Emily. A customer told me that
Café 13 had rooms upstairs for rent before it became a bar.
In July, Carol and I went to the third floor and asked
Emily why she hasn’t moved on. Emily told me that she
couldn’t move on until she and her son could be together.
right: The first floor sitting area.
She also said that the man on the first floor stops them
from being together. Tommy can’t come up, and she
can’t go down. I spoke to the man who was keeping them
apart and told him that he can only be free if the woman
he loved could hold her son.
About two months later, we stopped in at Café 13
and saw Tommy and Emily at the top of the stairs holding
hands. The both looked at me, smiled, and then disappeared.
A very happy ending to say the least.
So it appears that the story of the affair at the Old Post
Office did not end there. It moved over
to Café 13, where mother and son eventually reunited.
Café 13 is still the friendliest place, and the atmosphere
is that of going into the past. If you get a chance, stop in and get to experience great food and people at Café 13.
As detailed in Part 1 of this story, Emily had
hung herself while she was pregnant with Tom
my. If that was the case, how can an unborn
child (Tommy) take a “physical” spirit form?
I ran into this instance once before when an
unborn child spirit took on a physical host hu
man body. I was in Inverness, Scotland.
I was visiting relatives in November 1985. I
went to a grave yard and saw a lady named Pat
and a girl. The girl was seven. I talked to the
lady and asked her why she was still here and
why she couldn’t move on. Pat told me she was
scared to leave. She was 23 and pregnant with
her daughter when she died of Scarlet fever.
I asked her if the young girl was her first
child. She told me no, that she was her unborn
child. I asked her how this was possible. She
said that a spirit is a spirit and that it doesn’t
matter if it’s not yet removed from the womb.
In the womb, she was alive, and they were
meant to be together. It’s like true soul mates.
Life can take you on different paths, happy
or not happy, different jobs, different towns.
But, when you found your true path, when and
where and how, you know it’s the right path
and it doesn’t matter what happens. It’s like
every day is happy.
She told me that if her daughter was born,
she would have been very sick and died at the
age of seven. I told Pat that if she moved on, her
and her daughter would probably be together
again sometime, somewhere. Pat smiled and
thanked me. She said she hoped that I was right.
For the next three days I returned to where
I saw Pat and her daughter and just felt a very
happy and peaceful felling.