A premier ghost-hunter takes his favorite mediums to some of the ""hot spot"" locales of the American Revolution. Places like Monticello or Conference House in Staten Island, where ghosts or ""imprints"" from days of yore enact endlessly their moments of grief, pain, or lust. (""Ghosts"" are actual entities ""stuck in time,"" unreconciled to having passed to the next dimension; ""imprints"" are emanations of events--sort of). The imprints are relatively decorous, but obscenities and bitter accusations pour from the mouths of the terror-struck ghosts--who usually don't believe the author when he tells them the British have long since departed. The Founding Fathers, one will be reassured to learn, are in no such miserable straits--though Jefferson's romantic involvements still agitate the air around Charlottesville and Major AndrÃ‰ is greatly missed around Stony Point. Unfortunately, the selection of sites seems arbitrary (nothing of Independence Hall or Mount Vernon), and the spirits, understandably, are more caught up in the exigencies of their disturbed existences than in elucidating the past for us. But the author claims to have located Camelot and the place where the Vikings first hit North American turf--so perhaps, someday, we shall find out the name of that unknown soldier who fired the shot heard round the world.