I'm not a big believer, but my sister wanted to check out the St. James after she saw it on frickin Ghost Adventures. I went along with her and a group of amateur “ghost hunters” because it was her birthday.I started feeling really uneasy as we went up the stairs to our room. Out of breath and nervous, but I chalked it up to the 4-hour car ride and too much caffeine.The feeling persisted, and one friend in our group mentioned feeling the same way. Eventually I ate dinner, had a couple drinks and relaxed into our “ghost hunt.” (The food at the St James is quite good, btw.)The night security guard gave us the keys to the abandoned county jail just up the street. (!!!) A group of us trekked up the road in the dark as it began to snow lightly. The jail was just a small stone hut with perhaps 8 cells lined up down a short hall. It looked about like you'd expect. Pitch dark, silent, spiderwebs everywhere.We went into a cell with the other ghost hunters and the leader asked us to close the door and just be silent for a few. I sat down on a metal bench in the cell to make room for everyone.As we sat there, I began to feel a creeping sadness. I kind of just ignored it ... but then I really started to feel it. It was just an awful, pure sadness. No anger, no anxiety, just a horrible “I miss my mom” kind of sadness.I started to cry. I realized how crazy I would look - and that it would send the ghost hunt people into a frenzy- so I kept silent and tried not to sob. After maybe 10 minutes in the cell with people occasionally asking questions to, uh, whatever and looking at their lil electromagnetic thingies, we went to another cell.I didn't say anything about it to anyone, not even my sister. We finally went back to the hotel. I was quite shaken up. It started snowing harder as we walked.I didn't mention it to anyone until we got home the next day. I still don't know what to make of it.