The Woman in the Teal Dress
A mysterious wedding guest and the miracle of film digitalization
Hello! Welcome to Family Ghosts. If you’re new here, the good news is that we are just beginning our journey together. You can read more about my vision for this newsletter in my first post, but it’s not required! We begin the ghost story below.
When I first encountered Muriel in 2012, she had been dead for 39 years and 10 months.
I had recently moved back to my hometown, Pittsburgh, and found that one of the benefits was having significantly more time to rummage through my grandparents' closets (with their encouragement). My most exciting finds included a vintage black beaded blazer that I wore to several New Year's Eve parties, stacks of photos of sullen-faced Romanian ancestors, and a garbage bag full of delicate old watercolors by my great-grandmother
One day at the bottom of a closet, I unearthed two film reels that contained my grandparents’ 1956 wedding video. No one in our family had a reel-to-reel player, so Grandma gave me permission to get them digitally restored. At that point, I had never seen a video of my grandparents that predated my existence, and all their wedding photos were in black and white.
When I received the digital version six weeks later, I was stunned to see it was a 29-minute full-color silent film. I decided to watch it alone at my desk over lunch. There were my impossibly young grandparents, moving gracefully and affectionately through the Sherry-Netherland Hotel’s ballroom in New York. There were all four of my great-grandparents on my dad’s side, fluffing Grandma’s wedding dress and shaking Grandpa’s hand.
My grandparents’ friends were luminous and maybe a little drunk, shyly kissing in their silks and bowties.
Muriel’s face first appears in the video at the 12-minute mark. She’s seated at a table with her mother and several other middle-aged guests. It seems like she’s looking directly at the camera, making unusually sustained eye contact. Here’s that first moment:
Teal dress, pearl earrings, bright smile. The camera finds her twice more over the course of evening and seems to linger on her each time. She makes small talk with a young man, who’s looking at her attentively. She messes up a dance, then laughs, shakes her head, and counts herself back in. I made a mental note to ask Grandma about her. I liked her dress and her inexpert dancing reminded me of a year spent in ballroom dancing class against my will.
When I went over to watch the video with my grandparents, I expected it to be emotional. By 2012, both of my grandparents were in their 80s and many of their friends I had recognized during my solo view had passed away. We cozied up to watch after eating takeout and I asked Grandma to give me a voiceover on the important stuff: was she nervous? Was Grandpa nervous? Was the food good?
When Muriel came on the screen for the first time, I paused the video.
“Who is that?” I peeled my eyes away from the screen and smiled as I asked Grandma.
“That’s my cousin Muriel. I used to babysit her when she was small.”
Grandma leaned in a bit closer to the screen.
“She’s so young here, I think she was about 15 or 16.”
Ah, I thought, that explains why she looks out of place. Maybe she’s the youngest person in the room.
“What happened to her?” I asked, sensing some wistfulness in Grandma’s voice.
Another pause, then an unexpected answer:
“Well…she died in a plane crash.”
Next time: A famous aviation-related ghost story gets personal.
Strange Distractions
An occasional feature where I recommend something weird, spooky, or unusual.
The only photos we have printed from our wedding are custom commissions from Angela Deane, in which she has thoughtfully and beautifully converted us into ghosts. She’s responsible for the cover art for Phoebe Bridgers’ debut album and also has a series of gorgeous and haunting prints for sale. Check her out if you are looking for a unique gift!