by name with held by request
I am a Current serving Police Officer and joined a local force in 1975.
Sometime shortly after that time, I was on night duty woring with
another officer who was responsible for basically showing me the ropes.
We were in the Police canteen one morning sometime around 1.30am when
we received a call to go to a disturbance some 1 mile from the station.
En route to the disturbance we were flagged down by a man who was very
large in build, he really looked as though he could handle himself. He
was obviously very distressed and begged us to go to a nearby house. I
can remember this man was driving an old VW Beetle. I seem to remember
that he was dressed only in underclothing and possible wearing a
dressing gown. We tried to tell this man that we were on our way to a
disturbance but his needs appeared to be greater. He took us to a house
nearby and was saying something to the effect that something strange had
happened to his daughter. The story continues that this man had been a
former serving soldier in Northern Irelanda and had just left the
services and settled into this house with his wife. I seem to remember
that his brother in law was also staying at the house. He stated that
he had a large alsation dog also in the house. The man stated that all
three had been out for a drink that evening and had left a babysitter in
charge of his daughter who was just a babe in arms. The adults had
returned to the houseabout 12midnight, took the babysitter home and
returned. They were watching a programme on the TV called the 'Baron',
when they heard something being dragged across the bedroom floor
directly above them. No carpets were on the floor and the babys cot was
in this room. They then heard the sound of the baby crying. The mans
wife started to panick thinking someone had broken in and was taking the
baby. The Husband tried to open the door from the main room to the hall
this giving access to the stairs then to the bedrooms. They could not
open this door. Someone had grabbed hold of a small axe from a
downstairs room to try and get the door opened. The male told me that
he then heard footsteps coming downstairs, the baby still crying and a
female voice saying something similar to "HUSH DONT CRY". The adults
tried to open the door and eventually managed to force it open. They
got the dog and threw the dog into the hallway thinking that it would
attack the person whom they thought had broken into the house. The dog
bit its owner on the hand and ran out through the front door into the
street. Both males went upstairs and saw that the cot was in the middle
of the floor with the baby still in it but awake. They grabbed the baby
left the house, I think in two cars, the husband in one and his brother
in law, wife and child in the other. This is when the male in the VW
came acroos us travelling to the disturbance.
I entered the house and saw the door badly damaged as he had stated,
there were a number of bottles of empty beer on the table, but I didnt
think this man was drunk. I searched upstairs and sure enough the cot
was in the middle of the room. My collegue searched downstairs. No
Sign of a forced entry.
We were in a the divisional van a Ford Transit which was parked with its
offside, (Drivers) side to this house which is situated in a small Cul
de Sac. My collegue turned the van around so that its nearside
(passengers) was now opposite the house. I was taking the mans details
in my pocket book. I asked him if he had fully secured the house, he
said Yes apart from a small downstairs window measuring some 3' x 18", I
walked down the path and released the stay from the outside allowing the
window to close. Returned to the man and he gave me an address of a
relative nearbye that he was staying with. As we were about to leave, I
looked up at the bedroom window that had contained the cot, saw the
netcurtain move and the face of an elderly lady appeared. She was
wearing glasses and had her hair tied in a bun on the top of her head.
I looked at her for some 10 seconds as did the male. He became very
frightened got in his car and drove away.
This is the only thing that has really happened to me in 23 years as a
Police Officer. I felt very nervous about it. The house is still
standing to this day and is in the North West of the UK.
Back To The Top
I read the experience sent in by the assistant chaplain who was
stationed at Camp Zama Japan during the 1980's, and felt the need to
share some experiences while I lived there from 1987 to 1994. I lived
at Sagamihara housing base and worked at 69th Finance at Camp Zama.
Before I tell you the "scarey stuff", I will start with the slightly
weird. Several times while at work by myself, I would get the feeling I
was not alone, but not being able to see anyone or thing I would just
think to myself, that I was just imagining things and would finish my
work and get out of the building as soon as possible. On several
occaisions, I did see some one walk by the open door and thinking that
it was my assistant who came in early like me, I would wonder why he
didn't come in. Each time I got up to investigate, there would be no
one in the building. There was no way anyone could get out of the
building unseen, because they would have to walk back past my door.
This never really scared me at the time, but I always wondered how they
did it, and who it was. It wasn't until about 1992 that I had heard
about the history of others seeing apparitions of sorts, so I'm sure it
wasn't just my over active imagination. The only time I was ever really
scared was when I was at home. I had to quit sleeping in my bedroom,
because of all the terrifying activity going on day and night. I was
seriusly thinking about getting psychiatric help, but I kept telling
myself it wasn't real and since I knew it wasn' real, I probably wasn't
too far gone. I don't know how many times I was awakened from a sound
sleep, because I could feel something sit down on my bed. I had a water
bed and I could actually see the imprint of something sitting there, and
the mattress would move and the water would slosh, and I would be up and
out of there. It didn't happen every night and even though I knew what I
saw, I didn't let it get to me until I started waking up to some type of
entity physically on top of me. It was so horrible I can't even say
what it was doing to me. I wouldn't be able to move or speak until it
was done with me. I kept telling myself it had to be a dream, even
though I know I was awake. I read everything I could find on this
subject and most people say that all it could be is a dream. I read a
book entitled "The Entity", and this was the exact phenomena that I
experienced. I suffered in silence for a long time, because I just
couldn't believe it was real. Until now I have only told two people, my
best friend and her son who is a minister. He told me that the next
time it happened, that I should pray to God for help and to tell the
spirit "In the name of God, leave and never return". I did just that,
and after doing this several times, it finally stopped. Even though I
couldn't speak, I just thought these words as hard as I could. I have
experienced quite a few strange occurances in my life, but nothing so
physical and invading as what I experienced while I was in Japan. Since
then I have read quite a bit on the subject of ghosts and I have come to
the conclusion that I had inadvertantly invited my unfriendly visitor by
playing with ouigi boards when I was a teenager. I still sometimes
wonder if I'm crazy, but I swear what I experienced seemed too real for
it all to be a dream.
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Hi. I'm a military wife living on a Marine base in Okinawa, Japan. We
have lived in our present apartment for 2 1/2 years and have experienced
a few "weird" things. It began with the all so common doors slamming
and opening. And moved to something more real. My husband is a
skeptic...a have to see it to believe it kind of person. Well, we heard
something together one night that we can't explain. I had put our three
small children to bed and shut all of the bedroom doors and door to the
living area. Our living area couch faces away from that door. My
husband and I were sitting there watching a movie when about 15 minutes
later we heard the door knob rattle and the door open. Then we heard
our 3 1/2 year old daughter timidly call out,"Mommy?" Well, I tossed my
hands up in the air and preceded to scold her for getting out of bed. I
turned to find the doorway empty. So I got up expecting to find her
behind the door or scurrying down the hallway, but instead found an
empty hallway and all of the doors shut. So I checked her room to find
her snoozing heavily tucked into her bed as was the other two children.
Seriously confused I walked into the living area to ask my husband if he
just heard something. He asked,"What? You mean "Lisa" calling your
name?" Neither one of us knew what to make of that. After that on
occasion I would see the reflection of something moving behind me in the
steel cabinet in my kitchen. I would turn around expecting to find my
husband or one of the kids, but instead found nothing. I would hear my
daughter calling "Mommy" from a few a feet away when she wasn't even in
the room or in the apartment. The strangest experience was when my
husband and I were up watching Letterman and from across the room (20
feet) I could see what appeared to be a shadow standing in THE MIDDLE of
the floor. It was a little girl swinging her arms back and forth. It
lasted about 4-5 seconds. I was so shocked I couldn't move or say
anything to bring my husband's attention to it. Then he noticed my
fright and started asking me what it was. Right as he started to look
in the direction of the girl the "shadow" seemed to just jump up into a
cloud mass and back down into the lamp. I have seen a very brief
glimpse of a child in a wall mirror that is positioned at eye level for
me. (5'3") Just last weekend at a USO on a different base as I filled
soda cups for all of us a little girl appeared to run very quickly
behind me. I assumed it was my daughter "Lisa". So I looked around the
corner to find her sitting with the family. I went back to the soda
machine and it happened twice more. I don't know what to make of it.
Is it a ghost? Is it a projection of my daughter's "spirit"? She has a
very strong personality. I just don't know. I don't get any "evil"
feelings from whatever it is. But it's strange nonetheless.
Back To The Top
by name withheld by request
I do not have a story to tell but I do have some experiences. But
that's not why I'm writing to you. I just wanted to tell you how much
I've enjoyed you page. Reading some of these stories have made my life a
little bit easier. I have "something" residing in my house, and at
first I have been deathly afraid of it (the unknown). It hasn't tried
to harm us or anything. It has pulled a couple of pranks that trully
upset the family, but I don't think it meant any harm. The first time
was an envelope of money. I tore that house apart (litterally), looking
for that money. I quit for the evening because I was tired and upset.
This was all the money we had for a week. The next morning we got up,
tended to the baby. While my husband sat in the recliner rocking the
baby I started searching again. Still couldn't find the money. I
started to cry. My husband got up and put the baby in the cradle. When
we went back to the chair the envelope was sitting there. It was not
there before he sat down. I searched everywhere. I sat in that chair
the night before. The second thing that happened was my husband's keys
turned up missing. Again we tore the house apart. We couldn't find
them. We finally had to broke down and call a locksmith to come and
make new keys to my husband's car. We were really stressing the keys
because the gun cabinet key was on it and we only had one key. This
meant we would have to have someone come out and drill the locks and put
new locks in. Expensive job as far as I'm concern. Anyway, one day
some magnets and papers fell off the refrigarator and my son went to
pick these things up off the floor. One of the magnets landed (I don't
know how, it must of bounced or something) under the frig. When my son
reached under the frig he found the magnet and my husbands keys. The
third thing happends quite alot. My baby is almost 8 months old. When
getting him ready to go to bed at night I usually lay him on the bed to
get him ready. (This is really neat) My baby stares straight up at the
ceiling and laughs (like someone is playing with him). He does this
anywhere from 10 minutes to 20 minutes or until I grab him and start
putting him to sleep. There is also a spot on the wall he watches with
fasination and does the same kind of laughing. What ever it is I thank
it for keeping him occupied. Sometimes I'm so exhausted it's hard
keeping up with the little rascal so even 5 minutes reprive is
appreciated. I know it's a kind spirit and doesn't mean any harm.
After reading some of your stories it made me realize that I don't have
anything to fear.
Back To The Top
It sounded interesting to share my experiences with ghosts with someone that has experienced them before. For as long as I can remember there has always been a strange presence in my house. I have lived here all my life, 16 yrs, and my parents have lived her for 24 yrs. In my house there is always a presence that is watching you and you can sometimes sense it right next to you. Being alone in my house is a bad mistake.
Usually I am not comfortale staying here alone since something I heard a huge bang noise. I am so used to strange noises and strange occurances I usually ignore them. But this time I couldn't. It was a decent day outside, I was home alone walking through my living room. It sounded like a huge tree smashed into the back of my house sideways, while normally a tree would fall on top. I was so scared I was afraid to look into the back yard. The sound shook the whole house and I thought it broke all the windows in the back of my house. It was so bad a screen fell off the window in the front of the house. Finally I went into the hallway and looked around. Nothing. I went into the back yard, nothing. The rest of that day I was jumpy. That night the house was unusually quite.
My house is a very small country house in a small private community on a candlewood lake in new milford connecticut. Another example with my house was when one of my friends was over my house and we were in the kitchen getting something to eat. There is this hand made large wooden antique spoon on the wall in my kitchen. We turned around to go out of the kitchen, when we heard something loud fall on the floor behind us. It was the spoon. My friend started freaking out because it went about ten feet.
My brother also claims that he sees strange figures follow him around the house. A couple times strange people have also shown up in some of our pictures. Every night I also hear voices whispering every night. I have grown so used to it I just ignore it, but when some of my friends sleep over they hear it and freak out. One of my friends that was also so scared she stayed awake the whole night and couldn't move. The list can keep on going. Just thought that you might find this interesting. Hope you enjoyed it.
Back To The Top
Whenever I would hear of someone living in a haunted house I
always thought the house had to be at least one hundred years old and
very run down. I know better than that now.
In the seventy's my husband and I moved into a nice little house in a
small Tennessee town. For about the first six months it was our dream
house. But then strange things started to happen. When we were in the
kitchen the t.v. in the living room would change channels. Sometimes
the knobs would fly off the t.v. and land in the floor on the other side of
the room. If we were in the living room we would sometimes hear the
kitchen cabinet doors open and close. Every time we were in the
bathroom and sat down on the tolit the light would go out. Stand up and
the light would come back on. That was the only comical thing about
that house. Things started to disapear around the house. At first we
thought that some of the neighbor hood kids were breaking into our
house when we were gone.. My husband nailed the windows shut from
the inside.That seemed to solve our problem for a little while. About
three weeks later we took the kids and spent the day with their
grandmother. When we returned later that day what we saw was really
horrible. Everything we owned,food,clothes,furniture,toys, everything
was in a pile in our living room floor. Our windows were still nailed from
the inside and the doors were locked. That night my husband woke me
up in the middle of the night. Standing at the foot of our bed was what
looked like a little old woman in a white night gown. She vanished a
second or two later. The next day we did some research into the house.
We discovered that the last owner had died in the room where we
sleep. We put the house back on the market a short time later and
moved to another town. One week later our dream house burned to the
ground due to faulty wiring. I will always believe that she ran us away to
save our lives and I thank her.
Back To The Top
In 1992 I moved to a civil war era row house in Richmond, VA. I knew
from the begining that something was unusual about the place. My
roomates and I would always feel a preseance, like something watching
us. It took about a year or so to find out what it was. One night, my
roomate Josh and I were sitting in our kitchen/den. My attention kept
being drawn to the corner of the room by the back door. Josh was
sitting by the back door and turned to see what I was looking at... and
did a double-take. Even though I couldn't see anything, he swore that
he did. He couldn't describe it but there was deffinately something
there. Over the period of the next week... I tried to contact whatever
was in our house (this is not new or unusual for me... I've been talking
to spirits for about 15 years). The spirit began to appear to me as
well. At first it just a shapeless mist but gradualy took on the form
of a teenage girl, dressed in civil war period cloathing. When I spoke
to her she was as relieved as I was. Her name was Angela and no one had
spoken to her in about 20 years. The last people to inhabit our house
were totaly unaware of her preseance. She had died in that house when
she was 16 but wouldn't tell me how or why she didn't travel on to the
other side. She and I grew very attached to each other. We talked
often and watched TV together. Sometimes she would even lie in bed with
me as while I slept. The thing she liked to do the most was read. Of
course, having no physical arms, she couldn't hold a book or turn the
pages. So I would ask her what types of things she wanted to read and
then go out and get books of that type. Then we would read them
together, her reading over my shoulder. After a while my financial got
pretty bad. I ended up having to move out of the house. Angela and I
where both very saddened by this. I offered to try and find some way to
take her with me, but she said that she had to stay there. Eventualy I
had to leave Richmond all together. Now, often at night, I will think
about her and allow my awareness to drift back to the old row house
where I used to live. I can feel that she is still there, and I know
that she can still feel me as well. We smile at each other across the
miles. I hope that she accomplishes whatever it is that she feels she
has to do before moving on to the other side. And I hope that when I
take that journey, that she is there waiting for me.
Back To The Top
I believe I had lived with numerous spirits up until about 4 years ago. I am
now 20 and live with my grandmother, aunt, parents and younger sister. We just
recently moved here, but I was away at college for the past year and a half.
During the first 2 1/2 years of my life, which I don't remember, me my parents
and my 3 other siblings lived in a very small one story house. My mother has
told me that in that house there was the spirit of an old sailor who used to
hit her and leave bruises on her arms whenever she went to do laundry. She
also said there was a lady spirit who left the smell of lavender perfume
wherever she was, and that this female spirit would sing my oldest sister to
sleep at night. My mother also told me that this lady got rid of the sailor
one night in a fit of flying pots and pans. I have no recollection of this
time period, so I am not wholly a believer in what my mother says.
I do remember my experiences starting around the time I was 4 or 5. One night
I was sitting in the living room watching tv with my mother. From the living
room walking towards the back of the house is the dining room converted into a
weight room. Adjacent to that was my second oldest sister's room with the
doorway covered by a sheet. (There are no doors to rooms in the house except
to my parents' room and the two bathrooms) As I was watching tv I happened to
look out into the dining room and saw a lady dressed in a wedding type gown
glide across the room and enter my sister's room. The woman's skin was also
white along with her hair. As she entered my sister's room the sheet covering
the doorway moved slightly. I got up to investigate, but there wasn't anyone
in the room. My mother didn't see anyone, but years later told me that the
spirit of a murdered bride was stuck in our house.
Off to the left of the weight room is another room we call the green dining
room, and adjacent to that room is our kitchen that has a door leading out to
the backyard. Adjacent to the kitchen is our bathroom. Another time (the only
time I had a witness to one of my experiences) my sister and I were sitting
watching tv during the day in the living room. We both heard footsteps as
though my father was coming in from the kitchen. They stopped by the weight
room doorway entrance to the living room. Then we both saw an image of our
father standing at the doorway looking in on us. I saw what appeared to be a
photo negative of my father, when my sister said she saw a shadow figure of my
Another incident (a quite embarrassing time) happened one night while I was
going to bathroom. I had left the door partway open because it was only me, my
sister and my father at home. So if you were to look up you could see into the
kitchen between the door and the doorframe. I had been in the bathroom for
about 10 minutes when I happened to look up and into the kitchen. The shadow
of a young boy passed by quickly and I thought maybe it was my sister and I
wasn't seeing things too well. I called her name, but she didn't answer. Then
it sounded as if the doorknob had been taken hold of. I didn't wait to see
what was going to happen next, I started to scream my sister's name at the top
of my lungs until she came in. She thought I was going to die or something
that is how terrified I sounded. I even freaked out my dad. My sister told me
that she was just about to enter the kitchen when I started screaming her name.
My mother had told me previously to this incident that there was the spirit of
a little boy who liked to slam the bathroom door shut if you left it open just
a little bit.
Also many times I would see people out of the corner of my eye, but when I
would turn they would disappear. I would hear my name being called when there
was no one there. I constantly heard the back door opening and someone
entering the house, but there was never anyone there. One time I was so
convinced someone had come in (I always locked the door when I got home) that I
grabbed my brother's baseball bat from upstairs and went downstairs to
investigate. When I got to the kitchen after searching the rest of the house I
found the door to still be locked. I saw someone resembling my brother run
down the driveway, but when I went outside there was no one there. I even ran
to the front of the house to look out the windows, and there was no one in
sight. My brother came home about an hour later directly from school. I just
hated being a latchkey kid.
Back To The Top
Hello. I wanted to tell you about how I grew up in a haunted
house. My parents moved there before I was born and still live in the
same house. My mother hears doors close all day long, though no doors
will actually be closed. She hears lots of strange things. I will feel
a presence in the house. I don't know if there is one spirit or many.
I have felt things touching me. Sometimes they would feel like hands,
but sometimes it would be almost like a bar, cylindrical and kind of
heavy. I would not always be asleep when I felt these. At least once
that I remember, I was in the den watching tv when I felt the bar move
along my leg, like it was rolling slowly back and forth. We also have
had the "corner of the eye" sightings, but never anything really
I came to call the ghost Sam, mostly because I didn't know anyone by
that name. One time I was falling asleep when I heard a stack of my
papers crash to the floor. I said "Sam, I didn't do that, and I'm not
picking it up." Then I fell asleep. In the morning, there were no
papers on the floor. Sam seemed to just make noises mostly. Our
had a tile countertop and we used plastic glasses. The sound of those
glasses moving across the counter is unmistakable, and can be heard
through the house, especially when everything is quiet. At night,
even though I knew no one was up, I could hear glasses go across the
counter and kitchen chairs being moved on the kitchen floor. My parents
both heard the distinct sounds of the wood burning stove being opened,
the poker being moved from the holder, the fire being poked, the poker
replaced, and the door being shut back. All these things are very very
distinctive sounds. My parents are educated, logical people, but they
both heard it. They thought I had snuck up to watch tv, but they
and I was sound asleep.
Even people we haven't told any stories to would comment on feeling
creepy in the basement. Like at my sister's sleepovers. There were
too many girls for everyone to sleep upstairs, so they all had sleeping
bags downstairs. Without even starting ghost stories, they commented
on feeling something down there. I don't think Sam is evil at all.
If I was at home alone and scared of the noises in the house, I would
tell Sam I was scared to be alone and ask him not to scare me with any
strange noises. I wouldn't hear any all night. I am not sure, however
that he was the only ghost. I would definately feel threatened and
frightened at times. I could feel a presence and maybe I overreacted
to the feeling and felt threatened.
One time I was awakened from a deep sleep by pressure on my shoulders
and at my side. It was as if a dog were standing over me. I thought
that my old dog had finally died and was saying goodbye, but I was
terrified. I tried to cry out, but couldn't. When I finally could
get an audible squeek out for my mother, it went away immediately. My
dog was still alive. I don't know what it was. I don't know what
"gifts" I have in the way of the supernatural. I have dreams that come
true, I sometimes know things I have no way of knowing, and I feel
certain presences occasionally. They make me uneasy and I wish that
I could either not feel them or feel at ease with them. I knew there
was something in my house and was sensitive to that. Ouija boards and
movies like the Amityville Horror terrified me. My sister used an
Ouija board in my room once and I never wanted to touch one again.
I am talking to my mother now about our house ghost. She said that she
has also felt things touch her, especially in bed at night. We both
have felt things move on the bed. She said that she has felt like there
was someone on top, keeping her from getting up. She says she still
hears things, but they are always at the other end of the house.
My sister says she has never had any experiences and she thinks that
maybe I am making it up. Not like a lie, but like a hypochondriac can
really make themselves sick. I told her that I think I am just more
sensitive to these things. I find it unlikely that my mother and I
would make up the same kinds of experiences separately. We never
discussed them until I was older and never really talked about them
much at all. I didn't know until tonight that she felt pressures
holding her down in bed. My sister did say that she had felt pressures,
but not necessarily just at my parent's house. She considers it a
freaky nerve thing. Her body, rather than her mind, playing tricks
on her. She never considered the possiblity of a supernatural
explaination for it. I conceeded to her that the pressures could just
be a nerve reaction of some kind, but the sounds went on for years.
I even discarded a lot of the shapes I would see in the hall outside
my door as being due to the the unclearness of night vision and
imagination. But that doesn't explain the happenings when I was a
teenager and awake in broad daylight. Anyway, thanks for your time.
Back To The Top
You want ghost stories, and I have a couple of them, from personal
experiences, but for now, I'll tell you one of them that still haunts
The setting is an old farmhouse near Campbellford, Ontario, Canada. It
took place in December of 1982, while I was working with a friend there,
looking after poultry, sheep and goats.The owner was a book-keeper for a
Toronto firm, and had hired us to stay on his hobby farm and run it. The
weather had been very mild, so much so, that my buddy had been able to
continue ploughing, and having a full moon helping light the fields was
a great benefit to us.
After a full day, which had commenced at five AM, and went through to
about 1 AM, we finally loaded up the old wood-burning furnace in the
basement, and retired to our rooms. I have a nasty habit of having to
read a bit before turning out the light, and did so for about 20
minutes, then turned out the light. The full moon seemed to keep the
room well lighted, and I soon drifted off. I awoke to find a girl,
standing beside my bed, dressed in a long nightgown, and I was seeing
through her. The moon had shifted position in the sky, and I knew that a
couple of hours had passed since I went to sleep. The wallpaper in the
room, which had been striped, was now a floral print, roses, I think.
I'd experienced ghosts before, and was not frightened, and the sad look
on her face moved me to ask her what she wanted. She looked right at me,
and it seemed strange that her lips never moved, but I learned her whole
This is the tale that she gave me.
It seems that her and her younger sister had been orphaned, and sent
to live with their aunt and uncle on this farm .I was now sleeping in
the room she had occupied. It seemed the uncle had started an incestuous
relationship with her, and had threatened to turn her and her sister
out, if she ever told anyone, and also promised not to touch the younger
sister, if she co-operated. That was until the younger sister became
pregnant by him, at which time, the two girls found that he'd been using
the same story on them both. The sisters had no idea as to how their
uncle would take the news, never mind the aunt , who, though having her
suspicions, turned a blind eye towards the whole thing.
The story becomes a little "blurry" here, as if I couldn't recieve the
information quick enough, but the next part was as clear as the December
night it was told in. The uncle killed both of them and had buried them
in the basement. He told his wife and the neighbours that they had "run
off with some no-good, out west somewheres, and as far as he was
concerned, it was good riddance!"
At this time, the girl started to fade, slowly, and I watched in
amazment as the wall-paper started to change back to its stripes. The
floral pattern faded, and as quickly as it did, the stripes appeared.
The moon hadn't changed position much, and I was sitting up in bed. I
did not "awaken" this way...I was already awake. I went down to the
basement, and found the place that the girl had indicated to me. The
poured concrete floor was covered with dirt and bits of wood, but a
quick sweep with the broom soon showed a patch where the floor had been
poorly repaired, right at the bottom of the stairs, in front of the old
I returned to my bed, thinking that it was a strange thing to have
happen, and went to sleep.
I talked to my buddy about it in the morning, and he tought it was a
bit strange, but he also knew that I wouldn'T make something like this
up. We wondered if the boss would let us dig up the floor, just to
satisfy our curiousity, but thought that we might go ahead on our own,
and repair the damages through the week. I began having second thoughts
about it, though. Did I really want to find a couple of skeletons buried
there, and how would I explain how I knew they were there to anyone? And
if we found nothing, I would have looked like a person whose imaginaton
had over-powered his good sense, and had become obsessed with nightmare.
I always wonded if there was a tale of two girls, one about 16, the
other 14, who, during the 1920's had left the area to go out west, and
were never heard from again.I also wonder what would happen if I
returned to the old house, and somehow talked the owner into allowing me
to dig up a part of his basement. I'd probably be run off with a
shotgun.I also wonder if I'd let down a spirit who had reached beyond
the grave, attempting to get the truth out.If I have, I hope she
The story I related is a true one, and whenever I think about it, I
have all those questions running through my mind. If you wish to reach
me, e-mail me at (email@example.com)
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I've had some unusual experiences in my life, but this one stands out and I continue to think about it till this day....
When I was 15 yrs old, my parents rented a beachhouse from a friend at work. They live in NJ, and the shore is the place to go...The house was in Bricktown. A small community with it's own private beach. Not too far from SeaSide or Point Pleasant. The house is situated right on the bay. Walk out 100ft and you have your own crabbing dock. It was located at a deadend street, so the evenings were very quiet.
Now, being 15, was not an easy age for a girl. The moodswings were horrible enough that you didnt even like yourself at the time. But I believe the raging hormones also increase your sensitivity. I was not told much about the house before we left, other than where it was located and a vague description.
We arrived late, close to 12AM. As I said, It was very quiet. You enter the house from the back. The front of the house was built facing the Bay. The first room is a guest room of sorts. It's a small room, maybee 8x8. There is a hallway towards the far right wall. The kitchen door is on the right side and alittle bit further, the door for the (only) bathroom is on the left. Facing the bathroom door, is the cellar door on the opposite side of the hallway. There was always a darkness about this area. I cant remember if it was lighted, but I just in my memory there was a very dark patch.
The hallway was only 6 or 7 feet in length, not much at all. You walked right into the family room or parlor. Two story ceiling, A frame, with a boulder fire place to your right. Windows surrounded the living room, giving you a very open feeling. The unusual aspect of the room was the stair leading up and it was covered. When you were standing and looking towards the hallway, you saw the 2nd floor with the 2 bedroom doors side by side. The enterance of the stairs was cut in the wall and situated in the left corner of the room. It was decorated in a sailors or sea theme. It was pleasing and well worn.
When we arrived, my parents and my sister went directly through the house and outside to look at the Bay. I do not know why, but I stayed inside alone. I sat in a chair facing the 2nd floor, when I felt a vibration, a presence, I don't know what to call it. It was in the far right corner of the narrow catwalk, where the bedrooms where. The hair on the back of my neck stood up. The feeling of fear was so strong, I left to join my family outside. I went directly to my mother and asked if this house was haunted, she replied "how did you know?"
My mother, a very intelligent woman but also has a open mind when it comes to the other senses. I guess it comes by way of family, since my great, grandmother was supposedly a gypsy. Mom came to America in her mid twenties from Germany. Most of her family history was wiped out in WWII.
There isn't much more I remember about my first trip other than my mom mentioning pictures were taken in the house by other guest who caught a hazy shape on the film. You see, the previous owner was a doctor who specialized in cancer reseach. His daughter ironically, was diagnosed with leukemia. She was 16yrs old when she died.
The really interesting things happened when we returned the following year. I brought a friend, Monika and her boyfriend down with us. Now, I did tell her there was something there but she really did not believe in the beginning. The first night Monika and I slept in the bedroom upstairs, right next to my parents, It was late, and we we cutting up, laughing, had a case of the giggles. Around midnight, both of us decided it was time to sleep. I was on the inside of the bed and she was right next to the door. It was not closed all the way. After turning off the lights, not seconds later, we both her creaking on the stairs. Then a knock on our door. We were staring at the door, hearing it and not seeing anything. Let's say we both went white and agreed it was time to go downstairs.
After kicking her boyfriend out of the bed in the guestroom, We both went to sleep. I slowly woke hearing a booming noise, like someone was banging on the pipes. Then the old alarm clock on top of the refrig. blasted music. The channels began to change very quickly, as though someone was turning the knob from one side to the other. We stayed in bed, I was frozen. Her boyfriend got up and turned it off. He never accepted what happened. That morning when I went into the kitchen I noticed it was unplugged. I asked him did he do that, he stated no. I asked my mother who also heard it, she stated no. Neither did my father. It was never plugged in.
There was always a feeling of being watched. A prickle on the neck, tensing of the muscles, you would look around and nobody was there. What stood out is when I was walking to the bathroom. I would move quickly through the hallway. It felt like there was a weight on my shoulders. I could never look at the basement door. Even when my father needed my help, I couldn't go down the stairs.
The next year, after telling my other friends I was taking down the shore with me, all about the ghostly episodes in the house: they were disappointed. When I walked through the door, It felt empty. Nothing happened. We had a great time, but it was just a house now.
Mom told me something interesting after we returned home. Before we went down for the last time, The owners cleaned up the basement. They found much of the previous daughters possessions there and got rid of it.
What to make of it. I don't know. Maybe, since we were around the same age when she died, there was a connection. All I can say is it did happen and it was real.
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My father was a pilot with a national air carrier in Colombia, South
America for 20 years. My mother was accustomed to his continuos world
travels. In October of 1966, my father told my mother that he was
retireing as a pilot and that he had been offered an executive position
with the airline. For this reason, we would be moving to Bogota, the
capital, where he had purchased land and was in the process of building
a home for us. At that moment, we began preparing for the move by
selling our current home and taking care of other last
minute tasks. On March 22nd of 1967, at 5:00 P.M., my father called to
say that he was in Bogota after returning from a trip in Europe, and
that he was going to drive to Medellin, the city in which we lived which
was approxiamtely a 14 hour drive. The last flight out to Medellin had
left and he insisted on getting home immediatly and not spending the
night in Bogota. My mother urged him not to drive since he was
obviously exhausted from the flight and told him that the first flight
the next morinig would get him home at about the same time as if he
were to drive. However, my father was anxious to get home to see her,
myself and my brother and sister. Despite my mother's insistence, he
spoke with a pilot friend of his who agreed to follow him in his car
with his family all the way to Medellin where they too resided. At 1:00
A.M. his friend stopped to tell him that he was extremely tired and
could no longer drive. He suggested that they spend the night in a
nearby town and resume their drive the following morning after a good
night's sleep. My father refused explaining that doing so would delay
his arrival more so than had he waited for the next morning's flight.
He said he would continue his drive and his friend and his fanily could
spend the night in that town. His friend's son, not wanting him to
drive alone, offered to accompany him. Meanwhile, my mother went to
sleep nervous knowing in fact that my father had decided to make the
long and dangeroius drive through the mountenous terraine that
separates Medellin and Bogota, and anxious to see him after two weeks of
absence. At approximately 5:30 A.M., my mother heard my father walking
up the stairs that led to our third floor apartment, and heard the
clattering of keys as he tried to open the apartment door. She
immedialty gave out a sigh of relief believing that he had in fact made
it home safely. She heard him open the front door and heard his steps
toward the bedroom door. However, the door never opened...
At 7:30 A.M. my mother received a call from an executive at Avianca, the
airline for which my father worked. The moment she heard his voice she
knew something had happened. Without him saying a word, she said,
"Don't tell me, he's dead." He told her not to worry, that everything
was O.K. but she did not believe him. She told him she knew something
was wromg. He then acknowledged that in fact my father had been
involved in an accident at about 5:30 A.M. in Caldas, a small town only
45 minutes away from Medellin, and that he had died as a result of the
accident. The young boy who accompanied him had walked away from the
accident without a scratch, but 12 years later met death in the same
way, but this time with his wife and two children by his side.
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This is my story. My family was moving into a old house. People were telling
us it was haunted but, my dad didn't believe in ghosts. So we moved in. As I
was picking put my room I found a room full of old books. They were photo
books. I didn''t reconize anyone so I threw them in the basement.
A year later things went weird. I started hearing creaks when no one was
walking, and a sound like someone was ponding. I got freaked and went to the
library to check on the houses history. I found vey interesting things. The
house was once owned by a dog trainer who was killed by a dog that attacked
her. No one ever lived in for the next 7 years. That was when I came
acrossed something interesting. The couple that moved in it next was Mr. and
Mrs. Smith. My great-grandparents!! I remember Nana talking about my Papa
dieing of a heart attack. Well the town was under the impresion that the dog
trainer killed him. For the next few nights I had a terrible time sleeping.
One night as I lay awake in my bed someone came to the door. I thought it
was my dad but as he came closer I saw who it really was. It was my Papa.
The one who lived in the house along time ago. I was about to scream when he
told me not to. We stared at each other for about 2 minutes when he turned
around and left.
I woke up the next morning thinkling it was all a dream but there was a
charm on my dresser. I opened it and inside was Nana's and Papa's picture.
On the front was my Nana's name engraved. I phoned Nana and told her I was
on my way over. I told her everything and showed her the necklace. She began
to cry. She said that she believed he still lived in that house and that it
why she didn't tell us about the history. The necklace she said was her
anniversary present from Papa. After he died and she moved out, she left it
for him to return and keep. I went home and thought about everything and
finally came to a conclusion. I was visited by my Papa's angel. I was
shocked when I thought to myself that I hope he comes back. Maybe next time
my mom or dad would see him.
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The old Strum place sat on a hill, 5 miles south of Cornelius, Oregon.
Known as the Old Storm Place, it was built by an old German and his
family from the old country. It had clapboard siding, painted white,
lots of windows. It had a huge barn on the place that sat below the
house amid huge cedar, firs and pine trees that sighed in the wind like
the pines in a Curwood novel.
I first saw the old house in the last part of 1937. The depression was
still rampant in the land and so many were out of work, but if you could
get out of town and back to the land, there were always nuts, fruit, and
berries to work in and put up for the winter at a minimal cost. There
was always empty houses or woodcutters shacks, empty because people had
left to go elsewhere, or some farmer had bought or leased land, and
didn't need the house that went with it. Most were not in to bad a shape,
usually a stove had been left along with a rough hewn table, some
benches, and orange crates for cupboards, nailed to the walls, one made
out pretty well. No one seemed to be on window breaking binges, so the
windows were usually intact. With flour sack curtains, a good floor
scrubbing, fire in the stove, and a pot of beans cooking, they were a
haven to crawl into, and it felt like "home". Most everyone took care
of the property and left it as neat, or more so than when they moved in.
Sure beat a hole-in-the-wall apartment, or a tar paper, or corrugated
shack near the dumps.
This district, I believe, was called the Iowa Hill District, strictly a
German Lutheran Community. We sure needed a place to stay, we had a baby
girl and my husband could cut wood if we could find a place to stay. We
moved into the old Storm place, after getting permission from Alex
Eischen, who owned another farm about a mile and a half away and farmed
this place. We asked about the amount of rent he wanted, but to our
amazement he could hardly keep a grin off his face or the twinkle from
his eyes, like he had some secret, and he said he didn't want any rent,
as we wouldn't be there very long anyway. He said sure we could live
there, if we could stand it.
Up the road the other way lived a bachelor, a thickset German, who only
laughed when we told him we were moving in, and he wanted to know how
long we were staying!!! We couldn't figure out what the joke was, but
shrugged it all off and moved in. Everyone we saw would say
incredulously, "You're moving into the old Storm House?", and look at us
as if we were either to young, or to foolish to catch on. We met many
with just open stares, embarrassed grins, or just a shake of the head.
Evidently the house was well known!!
There was my husband and I, our little girl and a cousin, or brother who
stayed with us, often by turns, who would come to help cut wood awhile.
They used one of the old dragsaws, you now see in museums, and were paid
$2.50 a cord, cut, delivered and stacked. This was divided two and
sometimes three ways, but you could keep a few chickens, and the
neighbors gave us milk for milking his cow when he had to be gone. The
place looked like a castle as we sure needed a place to stay with a baby
and down to our last "nickel", you might say. My husband's cousin had an
old car put together sometimes with baling wire, so we had
Our water came from an old pump by the side of the house, which we had to
carry in for drinking, washing, scrubbing floors, cooking, canning, and
baths. And of course had to be heated on the cook stove. The well was a
deep one and echoed many sounds, like footsteps walking, that never
appeared. We dismissed many sounds as just being the well what it was.
We did begin to hear no one who ever lived there stayed very long. A
cousin of my husband and her family stayed a short time before moving to
the North Plains area. Their names were John and Leta Epler. They never
would talk about the place, but did say no one member of the family
stayed alone, and one time Leta was bitten by a rat as she laid in the
bed with a small baby. They used the bedroom off the front room.( See
While we were there, we hardly ever used the front door, or even the
front part of the house, as the back door seemed more convenient to the
kitchen, woodshed and all.
We begin to hear stories, mostly from our bachelor German neighbor, that
the Strums had been bootleggers, a man was killed on the stairway leading
upstairs, and that there were trap doors in some of the rooms. The
bloodstains were still visible on the steps, four or five steps up and
also where the blood spilled on the floor. We did find three trap doors
that led to nice dug-out spaces below the floors. We kept being told
after we moved, no one would live there ever, but we were young and
brave, and who believed in ghosts anyway??? And who worries when you're
We moved in with little or no furniture, using what we could find, and
besides we decided after being around, the other part of the house wasn't
needed, and it wasn't a very "friendly" part anyway.
For awhile everything went along all right, being early summer, we were
out of doors a lot, but as it got on towards fall, we begin to notice odd
noises. The first seemed to be these resounding footsteps that could be
heard on the northside of the house where the pump sat. I would run out
to meet whoever was there, glad for any company as the farms were a long
way apart in those days, and no one would be there. Since the farms
were two to three miles apart, we couldn't see how the footsteps could
echo so. No one seemed to be walking much anyway.
The next incident was the sound of someone chopping wood in the woodshed,
usually in the afternoons. It would be the sound of measured chopping
and I would dash out, thinking my husband had come home early. If the
dragsaw was broken down, often his cousin would go to town for parts and
my husband would come home and cut wood for the wood range and heater
stove in the dining room. When I'd get to the woodshed, the chopping
would stop, and start up again when I got back to the house. So I'd
think he'd just stepped out side for a minute, and go running out again
when the chopping started up again. This would go on and on until it
seemed I would wear my legs out. This would go on for days, lasting an
hour or so every afternoon, and then maybe go weeks before it would start
up again, always in the afternoons only. This went on as long as we
lived there. We never did figure out an explanation for this.
There were the sound of men's footsteps that went to the stairs where the
bloodspots were, stopped, and walked on into the living room, we used as
our front room. This would go on for some time, and then quite awhile
would pass before he would be back again. He seemed to end his walk at
the trap door in the room. That trap door was very "active" all the
time we lived there. I often wondered if someone was buried there.
Every afternoon, without fail, about three o'clock in the afternoon, no
matter what you were doing, your head would automatically jerk towards
the corner of that trap door. It was a forced reaction and you couldn't
keep from doing it. It became so routine, we just accepted it. We never
told anyone about this, as we like to see if it affected everyone the
same way. It would and they would get a funny look on their face and say
they had to be going. No one ever didn't jerk and stare at the trap
door. The trap door was cut in such a way, that if you didn't know about
it, you didn't see it, and we didn't bother to tell anyone about it. We
were having a good time with it and thought it was fun. After we moved a
few people asked us about it and being young and full of mischief,
sometimes we told them, "No, we didn't notice anything".
About once a month when there was a full moon shinning over the fields
and trees, different footsteps walked from the back door through the
kitchen, living room and on into the south bedroom, where they seemed to
stand and look out the window. These were the steps of a young girl who
seemed to be barefoot. Like the sound of bare feet sticking to the floor
and then moving on across the room. Was she waiting for a lover who
never returned or was killed????
The men used to follow the steps, one by one and they didn't stop until
they got to the window. She's the only one we ever saw, like apparition,
barefoot and dressed in a long black cape. we saw her twice. One night
one of my husband's cousins was coming to spend the night. Ruby was to
stop at a sisters place down below the hill from us, have supper and
visit and then come up to spend the night. It got later and later and
she hadn't arrived so we went to bed, having told her to just come in and
go to bed when she got back. Sometime after midnight, the back door
opened softly, thinking it was Ruby, I didn't get up. The bedroom was
long with a cot at the far end. As she seemed to stop, or pause at the
doorway, I whispered, "Come in, Ruby, and crawl in!" There wasn't any
electricity and the moonlight was shining in the window so I didn't light
the lamp. She stood in the doorway in her long black coat or cape, so I
whispered again louder, two or three times. Still there was no movement
and I was getting chills up my back. I woke my husband saying, "There's
someone standing there and they won't answer." He saw "her" standing
there and swung at her with his fist, she disappeared. Ruby never did
come, she had played cards and talked until so late, she just made a bed
on the floor and slept there.
We never told the rest about the barefoot girl. Many footsteps walked to
the one trap door, but the other main one never seemed to have any
disturbances. We dried walnuts upstairs in the unfinished part and the
rats did roll walnuts across the floor to the edge and they rolled down
between the wall. We know this accounted for some noises we heard, at
least the ones upstairs.
Some evenings when we lit the kerosene lamp, a strange wind would come in
the house and blow the lamp out. We'd go outside to see if it were windy
and the air would be strangely still. Go back in light the lamp, and the
wind would blow it out time and time again. This would happen for up to
an hour at a time, and then back to normal.
My little girl who was a little over two by this time would be playing
with her toys or dolls and would stop her play and jerk around and look
intently at "something". I'd watch her so she didn't know it and she
would just look for awhile and then go back to playing.
At the time we'd laugh and say "Oscar's" back, with absolutely no fear.
We liked it there with our ghosts. Now I wouldn't stay in that place.
One afternoon Mr Eischen said he'd be up to pick up some of the old prune
dryers in the prune drying shed on the place. We told him we'd help
load them. We were late getting back from milking and it was one of the
evenings when the "wind" kept blowing out the lamps. Hearing pounding in
the shed, my brother-in-law said he'd go help Mr. Eischen with the
dryers, as it was getting pretty dark. When he got there, there wasn't
anyone there. When he got back to the house, you could hear the trays
being lifted, pounding and footsteps. Each time they went down, the
noise stopped and no one there. Come back to the house and it all started
again. This and the lamps blowing out went on for about an hour. All at
once, the wind and noises were gone and everything was normal.
The next day we asked Mr. Eischen if he'd come to get the dryer trays and
he said no, he had found enough at his place and didn't need them. Again
we didn't tell anyone of this. It was one time I was uneasy there.
One time we had party with food and drinks and company. It wasn't long
until the guests all came and told us they were leaving, if we wanted to
stay in such a weird place, go ahead, but they were leaving. We asked
them what was the matter, no one would say anything. We were surprised
as we had told our "occupants" to behave themselves as we were having
company, but the party broke up early and their parting shot was "If we
ever moved, invite them again, but not to that place ever. " We were
surprised as we never told anything to anyone, partly because we were
afraid they'd think we were ready for the funny farm and partly because
we enjoyed our secrets. Being young and dumb, we thought it was
hilarious and drank to "Oscar" and all the other shady men who lived
there with us.
I never heard of a Mrs. Strum, but there were signs of a garden plot, a
grape patch and clothesline.
The barn was the only place I was afraid of. It was a beautiful big barn
and I loved barns. Since I had read and heard about Hobo's or other
homeless people scaring intruders away from the place they wanted to
occupy, I went to look and see if this was the case with the barn. On a
calm sunny day if I entered the barn, gates and partitions would slam
shut with such force they would almost hit me. It was such force it
would scare the living daylights out of me. There were no spring hinges,
or anything like that that would make them do this. No matter when I
went down there, this would happen. The pines were so sad sounding, they
signed and sobbed in the breeze.
Since the men were away a lot, I put up with the ghosts more than they
did. I did stay alone a few times at night, but wasn't afraid, except at
The summer of 1939 I had a baby boy and there seemed to be less ghostly
goings-on. Maybe we were just happy with the baby and I was so busy with
both children and lots of washing, to do on the wash board, and did it
mainly outside during the summer.
Toward fall my husband went to work for Arnold Gnos and since he had a
woodcutters cabin on the place he came up the hill and insisted we get
out of the Storm place. He seemed really concerned. Again no
explanation and we gave none. As we drove away I looked back and thought
I saw a movement at the window.
One day a neighbor came by on horseback and said he was going to go look
around the old Storm place and asked if we'd lived there. He came back
in a couple of hours, hair unruly and visibly shaken. He asked if we'd
"really lived in that place"? He had spent some time looking at some of
the old magazines in the upstairs, but wouldn't say anything else except
"he'd never live there, in fact, he'd never so much as set foot in there
again!" Playing dumb I asked why as I wanted to hear someone else's
version of the place, but all he'd do is shake his head as he rode on.
And what happened to the Old Storm Place??? A great blaze appeared one
day on top of the lonely hill and the old house, and perhaps all the
ghosts, went up in smoke, or did they all go live in the barn? The house
didn't burn accidentally, the men of the neighborhood community got
together and burned it down. They seemed to know a good deal about the
strange going-on that went on in that old house, but none would really
speak of it, maybe feeling a little foolish it were voiced aloud, and
would tolerate no more of that place.
I never went back after the house burnt just couldn't. We "all" got along
fine in the house together and lived together quite well. They tolerated
us, but no one else could manage them. Perhaps they liked us, who knows?
Being older and looking back, I couldn't or wouldn't have stayed there
now as I'd have been scared to death. I've never talked about it much
and now have written it down. My daughter remembers it very faintly, she
was three when we left and remembers the good things, a puppy, a pet pig,
going for walks and picking the wildflowers, and who knows what friends
she had with "Oscar and troop"?????
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