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My Experiences


Hello my name is Ashley Bosse' I have lived in three diffrent houses in
my life and at each of them I have had experences.  I know I sound
almost parinoid but I trully belive that I am not. first I belive that
there are spirits around us every where.  And second humans on average
only use 10% of our brains I belive we have the capabilities to feel
spirits and we have pychic abilities. My most recent experences are in
the house I currently live in.  The house is only about 5 years old but
i know spirits dwell here.  There are 2 that is sense.  A female who
only appers in the hallway late at night. The other is a man who
appersin my room and in the spare room.  I have had a majority of my
experences with the male spirit.  I first felt a presence about a month
after I moved in and every thing was settled in.  I felt like I was
being watched but I dismissed it as jitters in a new home. Then it
happened more frequently.  Then one morning after a friend had spent the
night.  When we awoke we taked for awhile and then as I went to my
closet to get a book when I turned around her face had a very scared
look on it she told me when I had my back turned she saw my full length
mioor move and a figure atanding in it she perfectly explaned the man
who I had seen a few weeks earlier.This is about the extant of the
ghostly phnomens I have experenced in this house hold. But another thing
I just thought about my animals won't go down there unless I am w/ them
I have 3 cats and 3 dogs they act very parinoyed down there when I feel
perfectly comfortable.  Please write me back with your thoughts. My
email is By the way thank you for greating this web
site. I hope you are in touch soon.

The Night Visitor


Right before Xmas of 1999, I had what I can only call a wierd
experience.  i am a firm believer in ghosts and the supernatural and
have been told I am psychic as well as experienced unusual things.
however, I had never seen anything until that night.  for whatever
reason, I woke up around 3:00 am to see a man in my bedroom doorway.  I
live alone and my 2 cats were asleep on my bed.  My first thought was an
intruder and I remember quickly screaming and reaching with one hand for
my phone and the other for the reading lamp on my bed's headboard.  The
man was rather large and was wearing jeans and a green plaid shirt.
Just as quickly as I saw him, he turned around and silently walked out
of my room.  After a minute, I got out of bed with my phone and walked
around my apartment.  No one was there and there were no unlocked doors
or windows.  What is so unususl is, if it was a true stranger my cats
would of darted under my bed because they are not used to strange men.
Maybe it was a dream but I doubt it.  This was too real and scary.
Since then I have seen nothing though my apartment gets very cold in
certain spots during the evening hours.

Possible Past Life


Hi my name is Lorie. I have my own story to share. It's not so spooky or
scary. More like it's a nice thing. I take after my father's side of the
family. We have an old name. His roots all hailed from West Virginia. Well
one day I visited by not one, but two of my relatives. (long deceased) One
day, while on my grandad's farm, mind you this farm has been in the family
since around the mid 1800's. I was 16 years old. I am now 26. Well, my mom,
dad, and me, were visiting my grandad. (deceased for about 3 yrs) Well me and
grandad were always close. there was this old log cabin that was built around
roughly i think around 1860's. not quite sure, how many generations were born
and died there. i only know stories, from what my grandad has told me. One
day, i was out, wandering around on the acres, and decided to check out the
log cabin. Well, I walked by it, and swore up and down, i had seen a pioneer
like lady. her hair was in a bun. apron, long dress. she was smiling at me,
through the window. i was shocked. Didn't know if I was seeing things. Mind
you, I was the major tomboy, here. okay, no make up, baggy clothes, short
bobbed hair. I heard something call me, but not by my name. She said,
"Samual, come here. Boy get in here." I looked around. Knowing I am no
Samual." I wasn't scared, more like surprised. Well, what I had done, was I
went in there. Opened the door, and a gush of cold, cold, damp air, flew
right past me. Mind you this is summer, humidity and all of that. Hottest
month of the year in 1990. July. Well, I went in there. And I didn't see her.
I was kind of sad. I decided to investigate. I found, an old trunk. I opened
it and found a photo album of all pictures. Actual tin type or whatever they
were. And I seen this boy. That stood out. From all of them. I could barely
read the name. He was in a uniform. Civil war kind of uniform. I brought it
to my grandad. I showed it to him. He just smiled. I pointed to the picture.
And I asked him. "Grandad who is this boy?"  He couldn't read it very well.
But, he had anouther photo book. That he kept in the house. He pulled it,
nonchalantly, like it was nothing and looked through it. Together me and him
found some names, and some more pictures. Sure enough, His name was "Samual
James Pringle" He looked at me and said. "Where did you find this, sis?" I
said, "In the log cabin Grandad." He said, "Ohh." then he smiled. "Did you
see her?"  I looked at him.  "Yes."  "That was his momma. She is my
great-great grandmother. Her name was Hilda Sue. I named your Aunt, Ronnie's
sister after her (Ron is my dad). Another person whom i was close with, was
my Aunt Sue (Tragically killed 3 years ago. 2 weeks after she settled my late
grandad's affairs) So i had asked him. If I was imagining it. He said, no.
They're your family, your ancestors. They watch over me. I have known they
were always here. For years and years. Of course the scary thing was. I could
have been Samual's twin sister. Paternal twins i guess. I swear before God.
That he and I, were twins. Dare I say, yes, tomboy yes, but still very
feminine. As was he. In an adrogynous kind of way. Very beautiful and
handsome boy he was. He was killed in action. Don't know where, when or what
year. But, he was in the Civil War. I looked for archives. But, a lot of
stuff, has either been destroyed or buried over the years. In regards to our
family name. And to think, I always had a fascination with the name. Samual,
Samson, Derek, as well as Eric. My grandad said, he may be buried on the
acres. Or in an unmarked grave. Course now, i can't go back to the farm.
Cause, there are present owners there now. Who were family friends. That take
care of grandad's farm. None of whom, or perhaps know anymore than I do. Or
what grandad always told me in secret. Not even my father knows about our
ancestors. All I know, is that my dad, was born, in that log cabin. Along
with my late Aunt Sue. She was the oldest. First child Joana died of
pneumonia 4 years old. My aunt sue, was the only daughter. I never saw my
"mother" of that time anymore.

Second one. I'll make short and brief. Was my uncle Roger. He had drowned.
When my dad was in the Vietnam war. Uncle Roger was 17 when he died. Dad had
to come back for that. Then leave back for Nam. I was in the Shed this time.
And found a bunch of Uncle Roger's things. Including a picture. This was the
same visit by the way. 90 july. Well, i felt a cold chill, once again. I
heard a sobbing. A young man. I looked at the picture. And said aloud. "Oh
that's my uncle Roger."  I knew of that name, from what my dad said. The
sobbing stopped. I knew it was him. "Go to the light Uncle Roger."  i felt
his hand on my face. He was sobbing. I knew it was him. I just knew it and i
felt it. I wasn't scared at all. I heard his voice, faintly say, "please
don't go near the water. Drown 17."  I was like "Yes Uncle Roger."  Then it
was gone.

After we left. I took the photo book home. With Samual's pictures as well as
recent ones of Uncle Roger and so forth. I had to start school in Sep. I
turned 17 in Nov 90.  Around May 91. Month before I graduated. Some
Neanderthal pushed me in the pool. I nearly drowned myself. I felt a strong
uplift. And I was pushed out of the water. Funny thing was. No other students
were in that pool. Cause everyone had to get in. And a teacher pulled me up
from the water by my hands. I went home. Told my dad what had happened. He
looked at me. And said. "Sis, so many years ago, to this date. Was when your
Uncle Roger had drowned. Same age, as my younger brother." My dad turned
white as a ghost. As had I am certain.

That night. I overheard my dad. He was looking at the photo album. And he
said. "Roger, thank you baby brother. For saving my baby, your niece. From
the very same fate. That cruelly took you away from me. Forever I am

I was always deathly afraid of pools, and water, like ponds and rivers. If I
couldn't see the bottom No way in hell. Would I go near it, or even in it.
When I turned 18. I took swimming lessons.

Hope this makes sense to someone. It does to me. Thank you for taking the

At Mom's House


I was visiting my family in Moorpark, California around three years
ago.  I was sleeping in the living room downstairs.  The living room is
situated towards the front of the house.  To the right of the front
entry there is a staircase and on the top of the staircase there is an
open hall going left and back to the 2 bedrooms and bath.  My twin
brothers who were about 12 then shared the second bedroom at the end of
the hall.  My Mom and Dad's bedroom was straight at the top of the
stairs.  My Mom and I were watching movies until really late.  My Mom
was asleep on one end of the couch and I was just ready to fall alseep
on the other end.  The 2nd floor is open, the hallway and bedroom and
bath doors are visible from the couch in the living room.  I was laying
down, and I heard a running noise, I looked up and saw a boy (who I
thought was one of my twin brothers) dressed in a white hooded zip-up
style sweatshirt, run up the stairs from the family room/t.v. area and
down the hall back towards the twins room.  The boy was going so fast
wind was making his sweatshirt flare out on the sides.  I was worried
and thought something was wrong with one of my brothers (It was around 3
in the morning and they would have no reason to be running around), even
though it was bothering me I saved it until the next day.  I asked my
brothers which one of them was running around last night - they both
looked at me like I was crazy and swore it wasn't them.  When I
described what the boy was wearing, they both said they didn't have a
white hooded sweatshirt.  When my Mom overheard this she confirmed that,
and became very upset.  One of the boys friends always came over to my
Mom's house and he ALWAYS wore a white hooded sweatshirt.  He died only
a little while before that night.  He drowned on the way home from
school in an arroyo near the route home.  Since I had been living in
Idaho shorlty after my family moved back to California I had never met
the boy who drowned.

That night scares me sometimes only because it was so real.  It could
not have been mistaken for anything else.

Creepy Feeling


I was just reading through your site, and felt that I just had to write.  I no my story doesn't really compare to those that I have read, but thought you might like to hear it.  My family and I were renting a small house a few years ago and some strange things happened while we were there.  The house was old it was built around world war I or II whichever one that had the prison camps for Japanese citizens, anyway the story we got was that this house was the commandants house of a prison camp. By the way this was in Wyoming so I know at least that there were prison camps there.The first night I ever stayed in the house I was by myself, all we had were boxes in the house. Anyway that first night I was very restless and just had a very strange feeling that I was not alone. I had told my wife about it later and had made the comment , as a joke, "maybe we are living in a haunted house" which I would later come to regret.Now I must add that before this I was never a believer in GHOSTS or anything like that, but what would happen over the next few months changed my thinking. The first thing that both my wife and I had witnessed together happened the first night that we all stayed in the house. We were laying in bed just dozing off when we heard a loud banging on the wall outside, which scared the hell out of us. Anyway we lived
right by the interstate and really didn't know who could be banging on our house, so I went outside to check and found nothing, I must add that there was snow on the ground but no footprints or anything. We just blew it off.
The next thing that happened was one morning while I was on my way out the door for work I noticed a dining room chair in the middle of our living room. Since I went to bed before my wife I had just assumed she was changing a light bulb and had left the chair there. The next thing I know a couple hours later while I was at work I get a frantic phone call from my wife wanting to know if I left the chair there.There are other things like pictures being turned upside down, chairs rocking by themselves, the dogs barking at the attic, doors slamming and locking, and just that creepy feeling  that you are not alone.

School Ghost




Visited In Virginia


Yorktown - Colonial Parkway, Yorktown, VA.  1970.  It's been years. Nothing before or since have we experienced like that foggy evening on the Parkway.  I don't believe in an afterlife.  But the shared experience of a calm, detailed "hysteria" leaves us talking even today. That 3 people today continue to describe the uniforms, the hollow sunken faces, the slumped shoulders and the look of complete and total submission to an eternity of dread, that wrapped around each soldier. We were lost on the Parkway in that very small town - around the
Battlefield. I hadn't had my Driver's License that long: that created anxiety.  The two people with me were concerned about lack of turning room on the 2-land well maintained road and the fog kept getting heavier & heavier.  The headlights picked up soldier after soldier walking toward us on either side of the road; not even looking at us but straight ahead with such exhaustion.  I mentioned their unusual gray uniforms.  The uniforms were no!t well kept and that struck me as being unusual.  I've been around the military all my life.  These were not current issue uniforms.  It never occurred to us that these men fit the description of ghosts.  Except for their facial expressions.  Their complexions were gray with exhaustion.  We all agreed that when I got the car turned around without getting stuck somehow - maybe we should give these guys a lift.  I found that place to turn around and the headlights abruptly focused on a man dressed in gray uniform with a yellow sash - and why
I think this must be a shared hysteria - a tri-corner hat.  We all remarked that the uniform must have been a strange mixture of colonial and civil war staging.  But the night was so cold and why would so many men go to so much trouble for a part of the Parkway that wasn'tbeing travelled that night.  The three of us have tried to figure out who started the conversation of ghosts - we didn't discuss ghosts then because none of us believed in!
 them.  But somehow, we were able to share a feeling that we, or one of us, transferred into a very large, very real shared mirage of dynamic proportion.  And that's what haunts us today.  What in the human mind could project such images to other people.  How could we have seen, simultanously, in such detail these solders who looked so "dead".  Maybe that was the key word for our "hysteria". We tested each other.  "What did the soldier in the turnaround look like?"  I knew.  I only had to hear it from the other two.  And so, if this was
 a prank, congratulations guys.  You've held our interest for years.  But was it really worth the expense and makeup for one lost car on an empty, 2-lane, foggy parkway

Old Hospital in Hangtown

Back in about 1982,  I became resident manager of an old rooming house in
Placerville,  California (better known as Hangtown).  Placerville is just a
few miles from Coloma where the Gold Rush took place at Sutter's Fort on the
American River.
The rooming house,  during the Gold Rush era,  was the only hospital in the
area.  it consisted of 42 rentable rooms and several miscellaneous rooms that
were used by residents for laundry,  storage,  vending machines,  a t.v.
room,  community kitchen, diningroom and my office.  I had been manager for
about 6 months before the chaos started.  I have always been sensitive,
having had several experiences all through childhood and adulthood.
One cold,  Winter night,  a bad storm had moved in and the main Highway to
South Lake Tahoe had to close, trapping several skiers and gamblers halfway
up the hills.  It didn't take long before the motels and hotels filled up.  I
got a call from the Police Department asking me if I could accomodate the
stranded travelers.  I let them know that I had about 10 or 12 vacancies,
but to let them know that our power had failed due to the storm.  All street
lights were out and there was total blackness everywhere.  There were several
steps leading up to the entry door and I was afraid that in the darkness,
someone might get hurt.  All of the tenants helped out.  We gathered up
candles and put them out on the steps.  We dug up some old coffee percolaters
and made coffee the old way and set out to greet our guests.
They didn't come in one at a time.  They came in about 10 at a time.  I paid
some volunteer residents to get rooms ready while I checked the people in.
There was a group of the younger residents there at the stairs with
flashlights ready to take the new guests up the long flight of stairs to the
upper rooms.  As the guests would arrive,  these men would chant,  "welcome
to the Hotel California.  You can check out any time you like,  but you can
never leave".
All went well, and the next morning everyone thanked and said that they had a
wonderful stay and really enjoyed the off-the-wall hospitality.
Shortly thereafter we had a tenants meeting.  During the meeting,  these men
were chanting the words to the song,  "Hotel California"  and called my
attention to several verses.  During the storm,  I had lit the candles to
show the guests the way.
At one time,  the community kitchen had been the manager's residence kitchen.
 In the day of the hospital it had been the emergency room.  In the masters
chambers they gather for the fiest.  Other verses fit also.
Everytime the song would come on a radio anywhere in the roominghouse,  the
volume would be cranked.  Then one night as I sat figuring up the next day's
bank deposit,  I heard screaming.  It was the young girl down the hall on the
first floor who was living there with her small Son.  She told me that there
was the face of a man on her wall.  My Husband went and checked it out and
yes,  it was there.  Later that night about 2 a.m.  she came to my office
again and said that she kept hearing a whistle (like a bamboo whistle)  and a
child's voice calling "Mommy"  outside her room.  I went down there and heard
the same thing.  One of the young men who was still up watching t.v.,  went
outside to check it out.  He said the sound was coming from every direction
he walked.  He would hear it from the South,  North, East and West as he
By now,  the commotion had woke just about everyone in the rooming house.
The t.v. room filled up with people telling me of the experiences that they
had been having but were too afraid to talk about until this night.  About 4
a.m.  everyone went back to bed.  I stayed up along with two of the younger,
more brave men.  As we sat in the t.v. room talking,  we heard loud stomping
coming from somewhere in the back part of the lower story.  At the end of the
main entry hall,  there was a swinging door that led to the laundry area.
Beyond that,  the garbage room,  beyond the garbage room there were other
empty rooms that I was told later,  was the hospital morgue.
As we passed the community kitchen and started to approach the swinging door,
 the footsteps got louder.  We all looked through the window at the top of
the swinging door and saw no one.  Just then,  the door swung open and stayed
open as though someone were holding it.  Needless to say,  me and these brave
men backed up quickly.  No one was standing there at the door,  but it
remained open for several seconds and then swung shut.  It was a quiet, still
night so the theory of a breeze or wind is out.  In a few minutes,  the
footsteps started again,  just as loud as the first time.  We looked down the
hall and the swinging door was opening and shutting continuously and with a
lot of force.  We were all speechless.  All the time this was happening,  we
were still hearing the whistle and the child's voice calling "Mommy".
In the nights to follow,  there were several incidents and some residents
that had been there for years,  moved out.  Within a matter of a few months,
I was gone.
I have never gone back there,  but I wonder to this day,  if there are still
occurances at that place.  Every time I hear that song,  it brings that place
to mind and when it does,  I get a cold chill and every detail is just as
visible in my mind as it was that very night.

Family Traditions


Though I am only 12 years old,I have had more encounters with spirits and ghosts than most people do in a life time.Hauntings run in my family.My father was born in Ireland,in a haunted castle.My mother's home as a child was made over a cemetery used only for murderers.I,however,live in a home made over an anthill.If I were to tell you my life story,it would take pages and pages.So I will tell you only parts.The first encounter I can remember(I've had them since I was born)was when I was 4 years old.I was up in my grandmothers attic,when I felt extremely cold.When I looked up,there was a woman in a wedding gown standing in front of me.I was young,so I asked her what her name was and why she was in my grandma's attic.She looked at me in a stare I will never forget,then dissapeared.I found out later who she was.This is her story:Ann Ashman was born in 1773 in Castlebar,Ireland.She met a man named Mark O'Connely,and soon after became engaged to him.On the
night before their wedding,Mark became possessed by a demon or spirit.To this day,no one knows what it is.Mark,while possessed,took an ax,took Ann into the middle of the woods,and brutally chopped off all her body parts,till it didn't even look like a human.He then chopped off his on head.Police went looking for them the next morning when neither had come home or gone to their wedding.They found Ann and Mark in the
 woods.My great grandma told me this story not too long a go,because she never explained it when it happened.She says that Ann haunts many peoples attics,looking for Mark.My gg says Ann wants to forgive him.They say Mark does the same.So be on the look out,and know that if you ever see a red head with a wedding dress on,or a headless man in a tux,you know it's them.

A Haunted House


My best friend Kay just moved out of a house that is most definitely haunted.
 This house is in Dayton Idaho, a small town of about 200 people about 10
miles north of the Utah Idaho border. Its sits on Dayton's main street across
from the city park. Its a large old house that has been divided into a two
family dwelling.  My friend lived in the front part of the house while
another family lived in the back. Kay told me that she and her three kids
never liked the house from the beginning, but she had taken a new job in
Preston and needed to find a house to live in. After spending days looking
for a place to live she was told about this house and went out to look at it.
 She said when she saw the house it looked dark even though the sun was
shining. When she went inside she said the house was even darker inside and
there was a heavy feeling in the house she just couldn't shake. She really
didn't like the house but it was all that she could find so she took it.
>From the beginning she and kids disliked living there. Her fourteen year old
daughter hated staying by herself in the house and would do anything to avoid
being alone. She said that she always felt like someone was watching her. One
afternoon when she was alone she saw the dark shadow of man looking through
the hall window at her. This really scared her.  The Hall window is high off
the ground and you would need a ladder to see in the window. When you pass
the hall window, the hall turns and goes past the stairs and ends in the
master bedroom. This part of the hall at the base of the stairs is always
frigid. My friend had found a new home to rent and was eager to get out of
this house. I was helping her pack and I had mentioned to her how cold that
hallway was by  the stairs.  It was like walking into a freezer. She said
that it was always like that. Even in the summer when it was 90 degrees
outside, she said that hall was freezing cold. I thought  at first it was
cold because the storm windows had been left open. So I closed them. Then it
dawned on me that it wasn't that cold outside because we have been having
such a mild winter. It also felt like a cold wind was blowing across the hall
even though there were no drafts anywhere.  The cold spot never moved. As
soon as you went into the bedroom or upstairs or into the bathroom or kitchen
it was warm but as soon as you stepped into that hall you froze. Her eight
year twin boys would never go to bed alone.  Kay told me that they were
scared to sleep without each other being there. Mac told me that he and his
brother Jed never went to bed alone.  That it was too scary up there.  Until
they moved into this house they had never been afraid to sleep alone. Kay and
her kids finally got moved into their new house. The Other family that lived
in the back moved out two days before Kay did.  Renters never stay long in
that house. Their new house is bright and cheerful, a stark contrast to the
old house.   I have experienced alot of these kinds of things all my life..
but this was the first time I had ever experienced psychic cold or cold
spots.  I get cold just thinking about it!!

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