When Noah Washington's father would head to Chamblee to work as a blacksmith, his older brothers would brew moonshine in his smither's shed outside of 62 College Street, now the a recently opened produce and specialty shop that Patch wrote about yesterday. The boys knew the thick black smoke bellowing from the chimney would not draw too much attention since that was a common sight in the early 1900s in Norcross.
John Adams, owner of the new Bleu House Market, was interested in the house at 62 College Street because it was once the home of a number of Adams, including his grandfather, Noah Washington.
For the modern-day Adams, remodeling the home meant ripping out the interior walls and an old fireplace chimney, replacing windows and, of course, painting the whole thing an inviting shade of blue. John configured a modern kitchen for baking and cooking all of the market's specialties while his daughter, Nicole, has decorated the interior. But the active spirits in the area can be offended by so much change.
John Adams said that that while he was finalizing his plans on the place, he told a regular patron, Sherry Faith, about the slow progress he was making. "She told us she felt like things were being held up by something or 'someone,'" said Adams.
The patron, along with a friend who is able to "channel" or "speak" with the dearly departed, pulled into the driveway of the little house one afternoon, just to get a feel for the "energy" of the place.
"Immediately my friend says to me, 'Someone, some spirit, is living under this house,'" Faith said. "Without leaving the car, we asked him why he was under there, and his response was that as a boy of eight years he was struck by a car while riding in front of the home. Not killed, just hurt," she said. Faith said she ushered the spirit out of the home and into a tunnel of light. After relaying this story to Adams, Faith said he felt confident that that things would proceed smoothly.
Not so fast though. When the sale got hung up again, they began to believe someone else was "lingering" within in the home. The psychic ladies returned, with permission of the Adams, to discover an uninviting feeling within, near a closet area that led to the attic space.
Coincidentally--or perhaps not, depending on your perspective--previous resident Dee Dee Pollard recounts, "That closet was always so cold and my son, Richie, didn't want to use it so we never hung any clothes in it or used it for any kind of storage." Pollard recalls that it was kept locked.
Faith and her friend again questioned whoever it was in there. The response to their questions was curious indeed:
"Did you live in this home during your life?'
"Are you a relative of the Adams family?"
"No, I am not."
"Are you upset at the changes coming?"
"Yes, I don't like change."
The intuitive ladies burned sage to clear the home of negative forces, soothing John Adams' fears about the demolition of the home's hearth. After all, who can live, or linger, in comfort without a fireplace?