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Loon Lake cemetery in Minnesota.


 The loon Lake cemetery has long been rumored to be haunted by the Ghost of a Witch that was buried there.  Legend of this haunting is generally passed along by word of mouth.  Visitors can find the way to Loon Lake cemetery by asking just about anyone who resides in the Spirit Lake, Iowa region.
Or, you can follow my directions:  Heading north out of Spirit Lake, Ia. on highway 276 drive across the minnesota border until you come to a " T " intersection @ the stop sign turn right heading east.  Drive along Loon Lake's southern shore, on the S.E. corner of the lake you'll see a sign for Brown's Campgrounds turn in their lane.  Drive past the office and through the gate.  Just inside the gate you'll see a short driveway to the right, park your car there. Traveling on foot follow the posted sign that directs you to a mowed grass path that leads to the cemetery.  Walking approx. 1/2 mile inland along the path you'll see  the cemetery perched on the top of a small knoll.  The cemetery over looks 3 small marsh ponds,  the surrounding prairie wetlands, and the senic rolling hills of the region.The cemetery in it's conception was certainly a beautiful spot creating a peaceful lovely resting place for it's residents.  Most of whom are from the mid to late 1800's and early 1900's.  There are several graves of infants nestled in family plots.  You'll find approx. 2 dozen graves scattered across this site.  Most of the tomb stones have been knocked over by previous visitors or vandals.  Finding which grave belongs to the witch is pretty much
anyone's guess.  While I was there I didn't experience any of the rumored haunting events.  I was not covered in " Ticks " ( but I did choose a 40 degree day to insure there would be no " Ticks " ),I felt no foreboding urgency to leave the cemetery, and my vehcile started up just fine when I decided to leave.  The only strange thing that has occurred to me regarding the Loon Lake Cemetery is that every time I try to post this story on a Paranormal
 website, the computer says the website can not be accessed, the web page can not be found, or that the web page can not be displayed.  I'm beginning to suspect that a spell has been cast on me to prevent me from telling this story, and revealing it's easy to find location.  That could explain why the location is generally found out by word of mouth.  If you're in the Iowa Lakes' Region be sure to check out the Loon Lake Cemetery.  It can be an eerie place to go to, but I doubt any harm will come to you or yours if go there to visit.
Go and enjoy yourself !

My Ghost Stories


My story or stories as the case maybe are not all that extrodanary. I
have seen and felt things that still give me the shivers.  I lived in a
duplex near a park about 2 years ago.  Late one night I went for a walk.
During this walk I went to an area of the park near an old stone bridge
that was concealed in a thick it of trees.  In this area I had a
horrible feeling of fear. I could not figure this out because there was
nothing there but me and a bunch of trees. Then I felt a presents that I
truly felt was a woman. She was young and very scared. I also had the
feeling of being chased. I ran home very very fast. I ran in the house
and locked the door. Then after that I heard someone walking up and down
the stairs late at night.  I moved about a year after that happend I had
to move. Not because of the sprit it was time to go.

I have many many more stories. I seem to be a magnet for strange

My Grandma's Cat


This story is about my grandma's cat.
My grandma used to have alot of cats. She had a yellow and white named Malo.
Weare a Spanish family. I used to love that cat we play all the time. He was so
beautiful.Years pass the cat became old and didn't play with him all the time,because
my grandma had a new cat named Chispita. One day I was coming home from
school and my aunt was outside looking for Malo. Well days pass and the cat
didn't comehome. My grandma and my aunt told me Malo is died. I was sad and hurt that
day.When I told my brother he was sad too. A couple days later me and brother were
playing inside the house. We were not allow to. Just then I was about to
throw the ball to my brother. I saw my grandma cat! He was there. He was running toward
me and then disapper. I told my brother and he believe me. I didn't my mom or my
dad,or my aunt or my grandma. My brother told me maybe because he wanted to see us
one more. He was right. Three years later my family moved to a new house. And
I didn't saw Malo again.

My Indian Houseguest


Friends have often told me that I was sensitive to the "spirit world".  My
earliest experiences were when I was around two, and waking up in the middle
of the night to see a shadow of a woman standing in front of my closet, never
moving and always in the same place.  I would just go back to sleep, thinking
it was the outline of the tree outside my window.

However, as I grew older my experiences became more refined.   The first
experience I had with a moving object was in my early twenties.  I was
cooking dinner in the kitchen when the lid of the pot moved across the
stovetop.   A little unsettled, I thought there must have been a suction
created from the moisture gathered underneath the lid, but when I went to
pick up the lid it deliberately moved away from me and continued to do so
until I trapped it.  The apartment building I was living in was built in the
early 1920's, so that experience could easily have been that of spirit,
however, without proof or any regular occurance I shrugged it off.

Several years later I would experience something that I could not shrug off,
and had to learn to accept this strange gift God had given me.  I was in my
late twenties and had recently moved to Houston.   The day I signed the lease
on my apartment should have been the first warning, but I ignored it.  The
leasing agent was showing my father and I various available apartments, there
was one inpaticular that looked appealing that the agent said was being
cleaned and was not ready to show.  I asked her if we could see it anyway,
she stated that the layout was the same as the last apartment we saw and
because it was being "prepared" it was not available for view.  The leasing
agent was not facing the apartment, but both my father and myself saw a
person peering out at us through the window.  I asked her if the apartment
was occupied and she said no.  There was noone in the apartment and the
working crew was not scheduled to start on the apartment till the following
week.  Dad and I thought she was misguided, so I decided to take that

A couple of weeks later I moved to Houston with a couple of my friends, I was
so excited because this was the nicest complex I had ever lived in.  I opened
the front door of my beautiful apartment that was freezing cold (it was in
the 90's outside).  I checked the themameter which read 76 degrees.  My
friends hated the apartment and could wait to get out.  I thought something
was wrong with the air conditioner.  Over the next few weeks the apartment
would go from extremely cold to extremely hot.  Finally, a repairman came in
and said something strangely wrong with the unit.  He did some repairs and
everything seemed normal again.  Normal, except for the fact that I couldn't
sleep at night unless the bedroom closet door remained open.  The apartment
gave me an uneasy feeling.  My cat (who is sane) was constantly fighting with
the air, something he had never done before.  My friends thought my cat was
going insane.

One night when I was coming home late from rehearsal I noticed as came upon
my apartment that a light was on inside and there was a very distinct figure
staring back at me through the window.  I thought someone had broken into my
apartment, but by the time I made it up the stairs to confront the intruder
the apartment was dark.  There was only one way and one way out of the
apartment, through the front door.  But that night when I opened up the door
there was noone in the apartment anywhere, and believe me I checked every
nook and cranny.  Now I thought I was going crazy, the cat was still fighting
with the air, and I still felt very uncomfortable if the closet door in the
bedroom was closed, ever.

A few months later, after returning from another late night reherearsal, I
was given the opportunity to meet the ghost that was sharing my apartment.  I
was very tired and it was almost midnight when I got home.  I was brushing my
teeth in the open space part of the bathroom which paralleled the hallway.  I
looked up in the mirror to see a huge Indian standing almost directly behind
me.  I remember saying (with a mouth full of toothpaste), "...either your an
appirition or I'm in big trouble" and laughed nervously.  I studied him very
carefully in the mirror, thinking I was just about to get raped, when I
noticed that he did move, his body, his face, his eyes - nothing moved.  Nor
could I see anything beyond what was visible directly in the mirror.  I was
not about ready to turn around in case he was a living, breathing rapist.
Then I noticed his hair, he had long hair and was feather down the side.  I
then confronted him, that he did not know English and could tell he didn't a
word I said.  I then started calling out names of tribes and got a my
reaction with "Choctaw".  I saw how he died at that the hand of a white
soldier and how humiliating that was for him, he was proud Indian and me, a
white woman, had moved into his space.  I put my head down for a second and
when I looked back in the mirror he was gone, all I heard was sound of bells,
the sound of the closet door opening and shutting.  When I went to look for
him I found nothing.  All this happened in less than five minutes.
Afterwards I was ready to check myself into a mental hospital.  It was a
friend that explained to me that I was not crazy, their were many Slave and
Indian gravesites in Houston, many of which were descrated for the sake of
urban development.

These episodes continued to occur frequently, even though I never the ghost
again.  That summer, I went out of state for an extended period.  I was
having a friend watch the apartment.  That lasted all of a week.  The first
time she came to check on the apartment she stated that it was very cold,
although it was a 100 degrees outside, and that there seemed to be a very
hostile presence in the apartment, one that told she was not welcome and to
get out.  She called me in the middle of the night, crying uncontrollably
saying that she could not go back in the apartment.

When I returned, it was for a very short period as I was taking another
apartment in the same complex with a roomate.  My father was with me once
again to help in moving.  One evening while I was cleaning up dishes in the
kitchen my father called out to me..."Are saying something to me?," he
stated.  I told him that I was not talking at all.  His voice was strange as
he said, "There is a man sitting next to me, he is talking to me, but I don't
know what he is saying..."  I looked at him in the living room, but there was
noone else there, and the cat was fighting with the air.  I told my father
that it was the Indian, and that he was mad, but that he could not hurt him.
If Dad ignored him he would go away.  I then told the Indian that it was my
apartment too, and he had to learn to share, and finally to leave my father
and cat alone.  One week later I moved out.

All those months, and all those episodes where cat fought with the air, paid
off in one single photo.  It was a sunny afternoon, and I was playing catch
with a wad of paper and my cat (his favorite game).  I would throw the wad of
paper, the cat would go after it and bring it back to me.  I was taking some
photos of this particular game when I noticed that the cat suddenly backed
away from the wad of paper.  I shot the picture quickly, what resulted was a
photo of my cat tentatively backing away from a large filmy shape.  I have
had some photo experts, although none were paranormal experts, that said the
strange streaks in the film cannot be explained by any normal photo
technology.  I now refer to this picture affectionately, as the picture of my


My Invisible Neighbor


I am currently a freshman at the University of Oklahoma and I live in
the dorms on campus.  The building I live in is one of the four original
dormitories built in the late 40s-early fifties.  There are many
disturbing stories regarding the history of this campus, from fatal
fires to deadly accidents.  One of these incidences occurred in my dorm
building, on my floor. I didn't hear of this accident prior to making my
housing arrangements, which is probably a good thing, since I would have
undoubtedly chosen to live elsewhere and thus, would have missed the
opportunity to meet a very unusual friend.
    The first incident I had with Sarah occurred one night back in
August, not long after fall semester started.  My roommate and I were in
our room, talking with a few other girls in our hall, getting to know
each other and sharing funny stories of our first few weeks at college.
I am a magazine freak and we were all sort of absent-mindedly leafing
through some of them while we were talking, with a few of them still
scattered on the floor.  None of us were really paying much attention to
anything outside our conversation until one of the girls, who had been
sitting on the floor, suddenly shrieked, lept up, and backed into the
corner of our room, her eyes fixated on one of the magazines on the
floor.  Needless to say, we were all startled and thought she must have
seen a bug or something on the floor and started looking around for it.
It was then that we all sort of simultaneously saw what it was about the
magazine that had scared our friend so much.  It was lying on the floor,
open, with the pages slowly turning, not as if it was being blown by
wind, since there was none, but like someone invisible to us was sitting
on the floor, looking through the pages.  We were all trembling as we
watched it in horrified fascination.  Finally, my roommate, who was
thoroughly freaked out by this time, kicked the magazine across the
floor, where it slid into the wall and laid there motionless.  When we
could finally speak, we all agreed that we should go find the RA
(resident advisor) and tell her what had happened.
    We found her in her room and brought her back up to our room, as if
the crumpled magazine against the wall would be some sort of proof of
what we saw.  Before we even finished telling her what had happened, she
just smiled and laughed a little and told us that we had just been
introduced to Sarah, a girl who had lived and who ultimately died just a
few rooms down from ours (incidentally, her room is now used as a study
    Apparently Sarah had lived in these dorms shortly after they were
completed in 1950.  She was popular and had made friends with the other
girls on her floor.  They would all congregate in one of their rooms
late at night to engage in girl talk, help each other study and, yes,
they were very fond of magazines.  Unfortunately, Sarah also had a very
possessive boyfriend.  One warm fall evening, they were in Sarah's room
and he was apparently accusing her of flirting with a male friend she
had.  Sarah fervently denied it but he wouldn't believe her, and her
denial only made him more angry.  Angry to the point of pushing her out
her open window 3 floors to the ground below.  Ever since then, girls
living in our building, on our floor, have reported strange things
happening in their rooms.  Nothing mean or harmful, just things like our
magazine experience, jars with hair-pins in them spilled out on the
counter, textbooks "borrowed" for a day and returned to the exact spot
they'd been missing from the next morning, one girl a few years ago even
returned to her room after a full day of classes to find a half-played
game of solitaire sitting on her desk.  Since she didn't have a roommate
and no one had broken in, it was concluded that Sarah was the mystery
card-player.  She has even been helpful to some of us before.  For
intance, one girl in our hall says that she had left her window open
when she left for class one morning.  By the afternoon, when she headed
back to the dorm, it was pouring rain and she was hurrying to get back
to shut her window.  When she opened her door, she found that her
windows had been closed.  Of course, it could be argued that she closed
them before she left and just forgot about it.  However, there were a
few drops of water sitting in the window-sill, as if the windows had
been closed shortly after it started raining, when the only person
living there was halfway across campus in class.
    No one really minds Sarah being here.  All of us on our floor sort
of welcome her.  And if she ever "shows up" when we don't want her to,
we just ask her to leave and she does - peacefully.  Perhaps, in
whatever realm of time she's in, she is still living and is merely
visiting the friends she made 50 years ago in the same exact rooms we
now live in.  Or perhaps she's just a friendly spirit who wants to
welcome a bunch of uncertain girls into their first year of college.
Either way, thank you Sarah.

The Ghost of Smith Castle


 I live by Bonham Texas in North Texas. In the early 1900's I had a granddad who built a castle for his fiancee. Around  that time, they had a couple of servants. Two of them were Sara and John. My grandmother kept a diary of her life with her husband and wrote everything down. I read the diary about a month ago. I read that Sara had been found dead in the horses stables one morning by John. No one knew how she had died, but i think that her ghost was kept in my grandmother's diary, and when i opened it, her ghost was released. I live on one of the upper floors, the 3rd floor. I have a window that looks out over the stables and one night while i was reading the
diary, i heard the horses start to make racket. I looked out there. By the moonlight, i saw a women running for the stables. She had on a long black dress and a white apron. I didnt know who or what it was, i hadnt got that far in the diary. i kept a lookout on the stables all night and never saw anyone come out of the stables. That morning, i checked out the stables. A gate was opened. Now, Sara, has been "playing". She locked my parents in their room. She ripped up my homework when we had went to go eat out. She breaks stuff. She tears stuff. She also likes to "play" in the attic, which is right above me. She will stomp and drop things. She turns out lights.
 moves things. open windows. turn out fires. I have seen her in the act, sort of. I woke up to somthing droping one night. I went to the room where i thougtht it broke, although i was semi-asleep, i saw Sara throw something. She looked at me. I couldnt keep my eyes off of her. She whispered something. Then, she disappeared. I have tried to talk to her, but she will not say anything. I still dont know whats so important about the stables. and i still dont know how she died.


Bridge at Halloween


I go to a community college and I cross a bridge everyday to and from the
school.  Nothing bothered me about that bridge for months.  I did the same
thing everyday until a week before Halloween.  I was driving across one day
on my way to work and out of the corner of my eye I saw a man leaning
against the side of the bridge...and all I could see of him was that he was
wearing sunglasses and had his arms crossed in front of him.  At first I
thought I was just seeing things...But almost everyday I would see him
there, sometimes looking straight at me, other times just looking out onto
the water.  However, after about a week or so after Halloween, I didn't see
him anymore..and I haven't since then.  My aunt said that there have been
quite a few people who have been killed or committed suicide on the bridge
and they believe that I saw a ghost...

Christmas Nightmare


     The Christmas Eve I was 10 (1993), I dreamt that I was in the
living room with all my family, only instead of celebrating we were
holding a wake.  The tree & everything were still up, but in the center
of the room there was a casket.  I kept asking who had died, but no one
would answer me.  When I woke up, I pretty much forgot the dream during
the excitement of opening presents.
     Later, when I was at my dad's, I noticed my grandma looked kind of
upset.  After she left my dad told me my great-grandfather (her father)
had died earlier that day.  So in a way my nightmare had come true.

Ghost at Sophies?


My name is Jordan I am at my grandpas house. The other day my
friend Sophie and I were at her house sitting on her kitchen floor when
all of a sudden the power went out, but only for about 1 min. Then
Sophie saw something in the hall mirror. About 5 min.s later we all (me
Sophie and Sophies little sister Kelsey) heard heavy foot falls coming
down the stairs, but nobody else was in the house. We fled out the door,
leaving it open a little bit, so we could get back in if we needed to.
When we came back in after about 1 hour the T.V. was on a different
channel and the computer was not working, but other than that there was
no trace of anybody. Later we asked a few other people if their power
went out, but everybody answer was no. What do you think it was?

Ghost Experiances


   Hello. My freind and I have had many ghost experiances. When I was little I would wake up in the middle of the night and heard voices. It  was a man and a woman. Just a few weeks ago I heard them again. One day I was siting on my mom's bed and the hall closet door was open. I was looking at it and I saw a little peice of a skirt or a dress come out. It was almost invisible. Another time I was sitting up in my bed and I saw a woman standing and then sitting on my mom's bed. She was pure white. I beleive the man is my dead uncle. He loved my mom very
much.  My freind and her sister have had many ghosts experiances also. Her name came from a famly  freinds name. She was killed by a drunk driver. When her sister was little her mom saw her poking at something. She asked what she was doing. She replied" You made the lady go away." There was nobody else in the room with her. When she was older she was looking in a mirror she saw someone. When my freind would go to sleep she would hear chains moving in the attic. As if someone was there. She does not live their any more.



I,am 62 years old and when I was alittle girl of 7 I would go to Canada to stay at my Grandmothers farm house that looked like a stone manshon . I loved the farm ,the animals, Grandmas flower garden, the  smells & unspoied nature. When Grandpa & Grandma would get up early and leave me in the house sleeping  to milk the cows  I would wake up with a sence of  fear that there was something evil  in the house and leap down the stairs screaming and crying out to the barn. They would say your just a scary cat. My mother who  is 91 told me that
when she was raise in that  house she felt the same way I did she still will not stay in that house alone. The house got sold many times and was  slowely falling in disaray. Then someone bought it and wanted to restore to it once stately stature, so they contacted my mother,while my mother was helping by giving information on what the house use to look like the lady said ,"You know I have a terrible time with my little girl she is  scared to death of this house, I have fix her bedroom up with lovely things and nothing helps." My mother looked at me and then we both realize  at once there is something evil in that house because here is someone that we don't know that makes three
generation of little girls feel the same way, It does not affect any boys rased in the house only little girls. So I guess I wasn't a scary cat after all.

Black Windows

i grew up in halifax nova scotia canada. a block away from our house, was a
house that had a tale of a person who had committed suicide in one of the
rooms. afterward, the room was sealed. the story goes that from that time
forward, the glass window to the room turned black. even after it was
replaced, after a short time it would again turn black.
as a boy, i had passed the house on way to school and the window always
remained black. weird!

Was This a Dream, or Did It Really Happen??


    My grandmother, who passed away in 1990, told me this story about 20
years ago, and I can still remember the chills that ran down my spine after
she told me...
    In 1958, my grandfather died suddenly of a massive heart attack.  He was
at home  in bed at the time, and he actually died in my grandmother's arms.
My grandmother, who was totally devoted to and dependent of my grandfather,
was extremely devasted by his sudden passing.  Several days after my
grandfather had died, my grandmother had this "dream".  In her dream, she was
restless and couldn't sleep, so she decided to get up and go to the kitchen
for a glass of milk to help her fall asleep.  She walked down the staircase,
which was in the center of the house, and for some reason, when she reached
the bottom of the staircase, instead of turning left, which would have led
her to the kitchen, she turned right, which led into the living room.  Upon
entering the living room, she saw my grandfather over by the fireplace, with
his arm resting on the mantle.  He smiled at her and said "You thought you
lost me, didn't you?"   My grandmother swore that this was dream, but I have
to wonder if, in fact, she really did see my grandfather, and he was telling
her that he was still with her.


Strange Stairs


When i was about 5, my parents lived with my dad's sister and her family in
this two story house in cicero, il.  there was five kids to one room. we were all between
the ages of 2-6. our bedroom door did not have a doorknob on it and had to be jimmied with a
butter knife.well earlier my older brother was playing with it and my mom just happened to
be coming up the stairs he threw it across the floor and it stopped just
under the window sill. that night i remember not being able to sleep so i
turned on the night light and started to play with some crazy eight cards.
the door was wide open.  suddenly behind the door came this awful mean laugh.
 the door slammed shut and the knife slid across the floor and stuck in the
door.  at first all i could do was stare at the door.  no one else was awake
and didn't see or hear anything.  i finally got the courage to get up and
open the door.  i pulled the knife out of the door and opened it.  i don't
know why but i looked behind the door expecting to see who or what had
laughed. nothing.  i then went down to my parents room thinking it was my dad
trying to scare me.  they were both snoring away.  i went back to the room
and tried to go to sleep.  on another occasion in the same house, i can remember standing at the
top of the stairs holding on to the rail really tight and closing my eyes. i
saw the staircase in front of me and something on the staircase going down
it.  when i opened my eyes i was at the bottom of the staircase, still
holding on to the rail.  i never mentioned anything to anyone until i was about 13.  i told my
mom both stories  and she told me she also had an expierence on the stairs
just like mine.  she also told me that no one has been able to stay at the
house very long.  the last owner was a single man and  for no apparent reason
hung himself in the house.  the only reason she is able to know this is
because her best friends still live on the same block and she still visits
them every weekend.

Grandmother's Music Box


I have always been a little psychic, but this was by far the most memorable thing to happen to me. When I was 14(I'm 17 now), my grandmother died after a 7 year battle with cancer. I was with her in those final moments and the loss hit me especially hard. I was her first granddaughter and we had a special bond. She had always told me ghost stories and talked about the afterlife. After her death, I wondered if I would hear from her after she was gone. It was nearly two years after her death when this incident occured. I was sleeping in bed when
 I awoke suddenly at 3a.m. As I came to my senses, I realized that I heard music coming from the spare room across the hall(which I can see from my bed). I laid there and listened for awhile and decided to finally sit up. As soon as I was upright, the music stopped. And I don't mean the music had winded down to a stop, it was playing full-force and then just quit abruptly. It was then that I realized it was the music box that my grandma had given me the christmas before she died. This terrified me and I dove under the covers and laid there until
my alarm went off 3 hours later. I was still a little spooked when I got up the next morning, but there was more to come. As I sat in my room blow-drying my hair, I was looking in my mirror when the door to my room swung open quickly. I immediately ran to the doorway to see if my mom or dad had done it, but they were both downstairs. This really irked me, but I soon heard a story that made me realize I wasn't alone. Apparently my aunt had walked into her home a few months before to my grandmother's music box playing on its own and just as my
music had done, it stopped abruptly just when she was about to touch it. I guess that's my grandma's way of communicating with us. I just wish she had decided to visit me during the day rather than in the dark at night!

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