PRISM at The Candlelight House
A Groundbreaking ITC Session with Ghost Voices, Historic Validation, and the Owens Family Legacy
I recently reunited with Craig and Todd Smith—the two guys who first let me tag along on a paranormal investigation. Back in 2008, the three of us, along with Nick Pennison, formed SOUP (Society of Unknown Phenomenon). It had been years since we’d investigated together, and stepping into the dark again with them felt like borrowing time from another life. Some of my fondest, weirdest adventures came from roaming shadowy hallways with those two, chasing whispers.
This time, we met at a location new to them but familiar to me: The Candlelight House, one of southern Indiana’s most quietly powerful haunted locations. (You can read the full backstory over at Paraholics.)
A New Chapter for PRISM and Direct Voice ITC
It also marked a first in another way—it was the first time PRISM had ever been used inside the home. For Craig and Todd—seasoned investigators and longtime skeptics of Instrumental TransCommunication (ITC)—this was their introduction to what PRISM is. And more importantly, what it isn’t.
PRISM, developed by audio scientist Joshua Sean, Ph.D., isn’t a radio sweep. It doesn’t use soundbanks, smartphone gimmicks, or internet-fed language libraries. This is a closed-circuit, frequency-based Direct Voice ITC system. No reception. No randomness. Just resonance. For skeptics who are leery of open ITC systems, that distinction matters.
The PRISM setup was simple: Internal input audio was captured while external microphones recorded PRISM’s audio output as it resonated with the room’s ambient environment during a live Direct Voice session. Later, both recordings were reviewed and spliced together to highlight responses from both perspectives. (Watch the video—and wear damn headphones.)
Video:
As usual, the results pushed right up against the edge of what we thought might be possible. We received responses referencing The Candlelight House directly, mentions of the Owens family, a series of German-language replies (possibly hinting at something yet to be revealed later this year), and even a deeply personal message about a close friend the three of us recently lost—Jason Ammerman. Jason was an extraordinary poet who provided the Pearl Before Swine piece featured in The Hunt for Herb Baumeister: Tracing the Dark Legacy of Indiana’s Serial Killer. We heard from “The Seven” again. And yes—we got trolled. That Trickster energy never clocks out.
But one response in particular stopped us cold. Todd asked, “Did you have a car?”
A woman’s voice replied, “We didn’t have a car—never—back then, we ride with neighbor.”
And during this session, what unfolded was one of those moments where history tapped the microphone.
It wasn’t just what was said—it was how. There was reflection in the voice. Recollection. A subtle but undeniable acknowledgment of time: back then.
The phrase alone shatters the illusion that these voices are trapped echoes. It implies memory. Perspective. A sense of sequence.
The Owens Family Legacy: Verifiable Details from the Past
And the detail held up. The Owens sisters—Alpha, Lena, and their sister Mary (Anna Mary Pritchard)—were known for living modestly in the family home. After Mary returned to the house as a widow, all three sisters lived there together until her passing in 1945. Alpha died in 1963, and Lena remained until her own death in 1968. They had no phone. No vehicle. When Alpha passed away in bed beside her sister, Lena reportedly had to walk to a neighbor’s house to get help.
That’s not the kind of fact you find on a plaque or in a history book. It’s the kind of quiet detail that lives in oral history and obituary footnotes. It’s not a revelation that shifts the foundations of ITC—but it is a validation. One more small, unmistakable proof that the voices we hear sometimes come from somewhere real—and someone remembered.
After Lena’s death, Mary’s son, Otho Henry Pritchard (1909–1995), returned to the home. He lived there for the rest of his life. The Candlelight House remained primitive during his occupancy—no indoor plumbing, limited electricity—but also deeply preserved, almost sealed in time. He became the last Owens descendant to carry on its quiet legacy.
I’ve said it before, and I’ll keep saying it: Special places give special responses. While I believe ITC is a nonlocal phenomenon—guided more by focused intention than physical geography—some places simply resonate. The Candlelight House is one of them.
Craig and Todd walked in skeptical. They walked out… curious. PRISM didn’t convert them, but it shifted something. That’s the kind of change I respect. I’m not here to evangelize EVP or proclaim a scientific certainty about the capabilities or limitations of spirit. I’m here to demonstrate what happens when the methodology is clean, the intention is clear, and the noise—literal and theoretical—is stripped away.
As PRISM continues to evolve, sessions like this remind me how far ITC has come—and how much further we might go when the signal sharpens and the conversation becomes unmistakable.
—M. D. Jackson
