USS Hornet Additional Info
While walking through the steel halls of the Hornet, there are many ghosts whom one may meet. There is a ghost on the starboard side, who has been confirmed to a 17 year old boy who died of fright. Also, nearby in Junior Officers Berthing, on bunk number 11, there is an angry spirit who disapproves of the use of the bunk. He has been known to grab the ankles of those who sleep on the bunk, as well as throw and destroy any items placed on the bunk. One ghost that I have met personally was in Junior Officers Berthing, and it was the outline of a watchful man, who was standing near me. He did nothing, but just stared at me. I asked him to leave, so that I might wake up at a reasonable hour to start working, and he simply nodded and walked out through the solid steel door. A note that should be made is that at no point are any of the spirits on the USS Hornet dangerous. They are 18-21 year old men who were in the navy at the time that they died. They like to play tricks, and they like to learn more about what has happened in the world. For example, there is a ghost of a man who will stand in the women's head, because women are an oddity to him. When he served, there were no women on board. Another trickster is Steven. Steven has been contacted several times, and is known as the Ponytail Puller. If women wear ponytails, they will often remove them before entering Steven's territory, for fear of contact. There is no real harm done, but it is very shocking to be physically contacted by a spirit. One of my encounters of that sort was that once, while listening to the Ghost Stories that we tell on the Hornet, I could feel someone running their hands through my hair. To restate, none of the ghosts have dangerous intents.
I too Worked at St. E's
I also worked at St. Elizabeth's hospital. What struck me as odd was the fact that your story comes from 1987. I worked from mid-May until mid-September in THAT VERY YEAR as an intern for the Public Defender's Service of Washington D.C. It was our job to help those not wanting to be there to show mental fitness. Our office was on the grounds in the original cottage of the Medical Director from the days when the original "Center Building" was in use. Look, all I can say is this: 1987 was before the Internet. It was before cable exploded with shows like "Paranormal Activity", and I can tell you that they actually warned us about the building. Our superiors couldn't stand going through that building, but they had to pretend that everything was alright so that it would be opened for us daily. You see, St. E's is several acres large with many, many old buildings. John Hinkley and the like are located on the other side of a two lane hwy. That Center Building is no joke. I described it to my husband over 20 years ago and since as sounding like an active, fully functioning hospital. The problem was that there was no one allowed above the bottom floor lobbby. Even if you wanted to go up there, you couldn't...it was chained off. Bangs, clangs, muffled voices, footsteps, were not just common, but they were ever present. I'd had my brushes with Ouija boards, etc., but nothing freaked me out like the St. E's Center Building. It got to the point where each of my days would end with me telling my friends the stories of what had happened in the Center Building that day. I don't know if this is helpful or useful, but imagine this: anguished Civial War veterans found ways to kill themselves rather than tell their families they'd ended up at a mental institutions. Even if the soldier wasn't mentially ill he might get sent there for treatment in those days. Ice pick lobotomies were common there in the day, and it was rumored that the rape from the Nightmare on Elm Street films was copied from a story out of St. E's. All and all it's just a freaky place. I hope this helps. Feel free to write back with questions. You can verify my employment there quite easily. I was a government employee. Thanks for reading.
A Couple of Corrections and a Plea for your Opinion
I lived in Mansfield, PA, for a very large chunk of my life. My family can account for four generations of students at Mansfield State College, now Mansfield University of PA. At no time, ever, did any student fall, jump, or get pushed in North Hall resulting in her/their death. North Hall was originally built in four wings, like a giant plus sign, and the common area (the center of the plus sign) on each floor is known as "the well". Stories go that at one time the well was open from top to bottom, and some female student fell screaming to her death after drama about an ex-boyfriend. The problem with the story is that the well was never open. Even during and before my grandmother's time (she graduated in 1919 - I have her class ring!) each floor consisted of four halls extending from this large central common/social area. In my days as a student -- 1971-74 - the vending machines were there and any student needing to use an electric typewriter, hair dryer, or other appliance had to do it there because the wiring in the halls/bedrooms was so old and so bad that fuses blew if the rules were disobeyed. My grandmother lived in Mansfield from 1902 to 1993 and boarded students in her home for over 50 years, and until her death there was never any such death in or around the entire campus, let alone North Hall. However, during my student days I was involved with campus security and there were plenty of horror stories about things looking in from outside the windows, even on floors that the local volunteer fire dept. couldn't reach with a hook and ladder truck. All of the stories that I ever investigated turned out to be freshman girls with too much alcohol or other things in their systems looking at their own reflections in old, wavy, pitted window glass original to the building. (About 1850?) Try it sometime - wrap a white towel around your head, take off other visible clothing, and look out one of those ancient windows with only a faint light behind you. That "disembodied white thing" visible in the glass will scare the mess slap out of you! I was almost a believer the first time I saw it, and I don't even do alcohol or strange substances. But a big, bright "coon hunter's" flashlight and The Lord's Prayer have debunked a whole lot of ghost stories. Check out Hartsville, SC, on your states page. Prospect United Methodist Church is about two miles from my house and I pass it every day on my way home from school. (I'm a teacher at Hartsville High School.) There's a blurb on your page about "things in the woods" behind the church and a figure allegedly fighting the devil in the window which observers are supposed to locate. I asked my neighbor about it. She has lived in the neighborhood for 60 years or so, and she said that a whole herd of stories about fighting the devil, zombies walking in the adjoining churchyard, "things" in the woods along Cedar Creek behind the church, etc. etc. were started by guys running stills along the creekbed during Prohibition. There are quite a few springs (and quicksand beds) along the creek, and lots of underbrush and trees, which provided a ready water supply and fuel supply for the whiskey distillers. The best way to keep neighborhood kids away was to tell them scary stories, and then scare them badly a couple of times. It worked so well that people still won't go around there. That being said, there is one location that I have never been able to explain. For seven years my husband and I lived on property (then) owned by his cousin. The house had been a school about a hundred years ago, and only had three rooms. From the day we moved in I hated the place. I rearranged the kitchen furniture because when I washed dishes at the sink I had to stand with my back to the kitchen table and I sensed a man sitting there waiting for me to pour him more coffee. Numerous unexplained things happened to my friends and relatives, and at times when my husband was away I would "hear" without sound a young man, possibly black, age 18 - 20, telling me that I needed to leave for a little while because "something" was going to happen that I wouldn't like. Every time that happened ( 4 or 5?) I went to my car and left, or at least sat in the car in the yard until my "companion" gave me the all-clear feeling. We had all kinds of experiences with things disappearing and turning up in odd places. My camera disappeared from my school bookbag, was gone for almost a year, and turned up in the refrigerator on top of the butter tub half an hour after I put the tub away. My husband found it when he decided to steal one last biscuit. The film in it developed all black. I could lie awake in bed (in room #2) and hear a party going on in the living room. (you had to walk through the bedroom to get to either living room or kitchen) It was a real party, with cigarette smoke and ice cubes clinking in glasses, liquor, soft laughter and conversation. Smoking is not allowed in our home due to my husband's asthma and COPD - neither of us have ever smoked or used alcohol - so it wasn't our party, but it wasn't my imagination, either. When I took my flashlight into the living room everything stopped. Dead silence. There were unexplained drafts of icy air, footsteps, and the place was always 20 degrees colder than anywhere else, in spite of a large gas heater. Our Chihuahuas hated the place even more than I did - barking at things we couldn't see or hear, trembling under their blankets, refusing to enter or leave rooms or get off our laps, etc. etc. Whatever infested that place really enjoyed tormenting the dogs. I have seen glass doorknobs turn, shoved the door open, and nobody was there but cold air. As close as I ever got to solving the mystery was a story told by an old self-professed Klansman who claimed that at one time the house had been a private drinking establishment where black men and white women could get together. Of course the Klan took a dim view of that. A bunch of Klansmen hid up in the top of the house until the evening's entertainment was in full swing, then swarmed down into the living room and "broke up the party" with clubs and guns. I thought he was just running his mouth until he described the (unique) woodwork, wainscoting, moldings, floorboards, and location of the chimney and attic hatch down to the last detail. He had to have been up there to know how it was made. Could I have been communicating on some level with whatever told me to leave those times? Please explain how I could "just know" what he was saying when I had no desire to insert myself into whatever was going on? I am a believer, I guess, in the supernatural because other things have happened to me that I can't explain. But I don't understand this communication.
Angeline's Grave in Prescott, Arizona
Hey there, I just wanted to send you an email saying I have been to this gravesite. I lived in Diamond Valley, and took frequent bike rides in the area.I stumbled upon this grave and the headstone had cherubs, a boy and a girl, adorning the sides. I had an uneasy feeling, a fear deep inside me, so I left my bike by the road, walked up to the fence surrounding the grave, and knelt to the ground. I prayed a blessing to the child (I assumed it was a child, because I couldn't make out the engraving, but the two children on the sides made me think it was) and her family (I knew it was a her, but I don't know how). The uneasy feeling left me, and I biked away and remember feeling like other children were biking with me.
Finleys Bar and Grill
Whispers you can hear without a recorder. Fast moving shadows. Pots thrown. Numerous voices captured on audio from whispers, to radio type sounds, electronic voices and a human voice of a child. Smoke and smell of fire where there is none, during our investigation Finleys Bar offers. Not sure of the cost because my boyfriend paid for the non-refundable tickets. Friends told us about their experiences on Finleys ghost tour so we chose the investigation hoping we would experience more. We did. It was amazing. The docents Lisa and Brian answered all our questions and as long as we didn't provoke we could use all of our equipment. Upon entering the cottage it was ice cold like being under water in a lake type of cold. The back bedroom felt unwelcoming and made me uncomfortable, nauseated and dizzy. I don't know what that was about. Lisa used a laser grid which we saw blocked as though something walked by while we were asking questions. Really bizarre was hearing the blinds moving right when we turned our back. The bar is a little creepy and while we ate before the tour started my hair was pulled which startled me. My boyfriend felt a freezing cold over his legs which I didn't at first then I too experienced it just before my hair was pulled. We are going back after the first of the year. We drove down from Inveness which is two and a half hour ride but it was worth it-ready to do it again. The place is called Finleys Bar and Grill10477 S Airport Way Manteca, CA 95336
My Past Life Puzzle Waiting to be Solved
This isn't fiction, this isn't someone else's story, this is my story. There is a puzzle that needs to be solved in my present life, a link to the person who was me before I was me. To piece my past life together and find who murdered me I need your help. I invite you as a reader to roll up your sleeves get on your computer and search with me. I want you to go through obituaries, archives, court records and news paper articles to find my killer. This article is the first in series of articles about my murder! These are the facts: my name was Eleanor I was murdered in 1942 by a jealous boyfriend. I had straight shoulder length red hair parted on the side. My eyes were blue and somewhat small. I was a young adult, and a bit overweight but not obese. My skin was fair. My nose was straight and pointed. My cheeks were full almost plump I had a strong chin, not a big chin a distinct chin. I was not beautiful or ugly I was average. I had the face of the girl next door, pleasant and friendly. How do I know these things? I spoke with my mother in my past life, she told me my name was Eleanor and my jealous boyfriend killed me in 1942!Let me go back thirty years ago when linear time made sense to me and birth and death had a beginning and end. My paranormal journey started innocently enough, I fell off a horse and died. When I came back to physical reality I brought with me back psychic abilities. A tug of war in sued inside me as I struggled to make sense of my new found insights into the paranormal. What do you do when you can see spirits and occasionally speak with the dead? It is not exactly dinner conversation is it? To stay sane I channeled all my psychic experiences into three novels. I created fictional characters with my psychic abilities living in a pretend world with a mystery and a sense of humor thrown in for good measure As I wrote I refrained from reading about the paranormal because I didn't want to taint my stories, overlap them with other peoples' experiences. To keep myself psychically pure and my novels original I kept my mouth shut and worked alone. In theory before 2008 I accepted that reincarnation might be possible, my thoughts on the subject we limited because I didn't really care. I was doubtful anyone could recall their past lives and when someone claimed they were the reincarnation of so and so I assumed they were either a fraud or just crazy. I once joked to a friend that if I lived in Egypt two thousand years ago I wasn't Cleopatra I was her maid. I imagined when you are born we all started out in this life with a clean slate so to speak with no ecollection of who we were before we were born. Twenty years ago I met a young woman at a restaurant she was petite with red hair and blue eyes. When I saw to her I instantly thought of a character I would write. At the time I believed it was inspiration something a writer gets from time to time and nothing else. Why did I think my idea was snatched out of thin air? Why did I connect with the eye color and hair color of this girl and not her as a person? I didn't know the answer to those questions then but I do now.I started my third book ‘The Reincarnation Of Tess Hamilton” in 2007. It is the third novel in my series of books. For me to write any novel I need two years minimum. This books focus is on reincarnation. During the process of writing my latest novel I felt compulsive to describe my central character Abigail Cantrell a certain way. She had to have blue eyes and red hair I wouldn’t have been possible to write her any other way. I am not plugging my books at least not in this article! What I am saying somehow my usual process in creating a character was sidetracked or I should say hijacked. Why my character Abigail Cantrell struck such a cord in me?To make a connection to the other side I have a routine, I practice a combination of meditation and guided questions. Questions asked not to the living but to the dead. During my meditation I posed the question who was I before I was me. Nothing happened that afternoon in truth nothing usually takes place only once in a while do I get an answer, when I do it usually comes in sideways. I went to sleep that night almost forgetting what I had asked that afternoon. During my sleep I became aware, lucid with all my scenes heightened and a feeling of anticipation swept over me. I wasn't in the physical world anymore but my body was. Astral projection has always been a sensitive subject to me. To make it simple and short I detached from body and traveled to another plane of existence. I will elaborate more in the next article. I entered a place or I should say I was drawn to this place. I met a woman her face and shoulders were visible but not the rest of her body. As for her age she was over fifty. All I could make out was that she was a heavy set woman with brownish hair. When she spoke her voice felt sad. She said "I was your mother, your name was Eleanor, a jealous boyfriend murdered you in 1942! For some odd reason I did not react, instead I felt a disconnection from the woman who bore me in a past life. I didn't get to ask questions instead I was pulled back to my physical body and the event was over. A day or two later I was standing in a swimming pool in the middle of the day minding my own business when a picture, that's the only name I can come up with to describe it was presented to me. The woman in the picture was me! The face I saw was my own when I was Eleanor!
County Fair Story
I am not sure this would specifically count as a “ghost storey” per say but would fall into the paranormal somewhere. I often wondered if it would somehow count as “spiritual” as some people believe in guardian angles. When I was about 10 years old one of my favorite events of the year was the Jackson County Fair in Southern Indiana. At this fair they typically had various tractors and fair
equipment on display not far from the animal exhibits. I was extremely excited because we did not farm and so the equipment was not something I was around every day other then just seeing farmers use them as we would pass by the many fields in the area. I was also excited to get to go pet various farm animals in the animal exhibits then get to the carnival rides. My mother allowed me to go play for a few minutes near the tractors with my cousins while she visited with some peers of hers that she had spotted and give me some time to use some of my energy to alleviate some of my impatience. This is when the bizarre experience comes in. My cousins around my age and I were playing and I wondered over to the farm equipment. I went up to what seemed like an enormous tractor. I do not recall what you call this type of tractor but do remember it being a John Deere brand. This tractor had a cabin with steps that led up to the door. I went up the steps and tried the door and obviously it was locked. However I was able to climb around in areas of this tractor, on the tire area and behind it. Being very small for even a 10 year old I was able to get just about anywhere. It had not even slightly occurred to me being a 10 year old boy to think of any possible danger with doing this. While climbing on the backside area of this tractor cab I slipped and fell. I was falling straight down toward the discs attached to the tractor used to turn the soil in the fields.. I do not remember specific thoughts I was having as this was so quick other than the fear one has as they realize they are going to fall then I did fall. You must keep in mind it takes several more seconds to read this than the event occurring….this all went down very quickly. While falling and still in the air I felt a slight pressure and it seems like a blacked out state occurred. When I realized myself and surroundings once again a few seconds later I was laying on the ground about 15 or so feet away from the tractor. No one was near that particular area and gravity simply does not work quite like that. I was not injured, bruised, or hurting in any way. I know this story is not really all that sensational or entertaining but it happened to me and it is something I can not just explain away. I truly believe something saved me that day and I have never forgotten the experience. I would welcome any comments, questions, or explainations from readers.
Freaked Me Out
My name is Maranda. Just wanted to share one of many ghostly stories (I'm not phsychic/not medium). I was living with my brother and his roommate in a triple wide mobile home (summer, 2002) in a neighborhood called Cove Orchard near Yamhill, OR. Leaning on the back of a couch one afternoon, glancing at the TV, I happened to feel a squeeze on the front of my hip which of course startled me to spin around-no one there....huh, I thought, must have been a crease in my pants or something? I turn back around and no more than 5 seconds later I get goosed (not on the cheek, if you know what I mean...south and bullseye!). Well, that (bizarre, in and of itself) marked a definite "deep seated" fear of being alone in the home. About a month later, I was just beginning to doze off (10pmish) as my brother walked down the hall past my open bedroom door. I happen to glance over and right next to me stands a black shadow of a very large man with a lightning outline all around his body. Needless to say, my flight instinct kicked in and I was out of my bed and running down the hall so fast I almost ran up my bros backside. As my nephews were on the living room couches possibly asleep, I tried to shrug this off. My brother was like, "What the....?" I talked to him about it later and he laughed at me and said, "Oh, you saw the ghost." NOT funny, not haha...very bizarre. In relating this story with my nephews years later I discovered my experiences were nothing compared to their encounters as they grew up in that home; but thats for them to tell! Was looking at some of your web pics and I have a photo to send you that I thought was cig smoke but would like your professional opinion. Ectoplasm? It was taken at our employee party (Dec. 2003) at The Ratskellar (a bar) in Government Camp, Oregon. I will send that soon...have a great day, don't work too hard. PS, wish I was your employee, sounds like a fun job...a humans final frontier- untapped, undiscovered!
My daughter told me to write and tell you about my experience during vacation this past week. I stayed at the Days Inn in Summerton SC. The room I stayed in was 214. Every night the TV would turn on at 11:37 PM. There was no control for a timer and even the sleep setting did not work on the remote. This occurred from November 5th the night we checked through the night of November 11th, we checked on on the 12th. I believe it was Thursday, I turned on the lights above the vanity and the smoke detector went off. I turned off the lights for a few minutes and turned them back on again and things were fine. Since I spent a week there, I talked with a couple of the desk clerks and learned more as time went along. Not sure how true it is. I asked if something had happened at the hotel and the one clerk indicated there was an incident, would not give details only to say that it did not happen at that part of the hotel. One clerk did say, after I waited a few days of this TV thing, that the room I was in and the one next door, 213, the T's seem to have minds of their own. Another clerk who was on duty while I was talking to the first one, did mention that the hotel was built on a cemetery and that she was not sure if all the remains were relocated or just those where I95 went through. This clerk also said she refuses to enter any of the rooms because she say a woman's figure in one room and the cleaning lady confirmed her sighting by saying oh yeah that's my lady. The clerk described the woman as from the 1940's with a dress with the fancy brocade neckline and very small buttons. This clerk also made a comment that the Summerton Inn, which is across the road, is worse. One of the other guests I talked with who was involved with the same event I was said that her and her husband kept hearing like someone beating. She did not say if they were beating on something or someone. That was in room 109. Enjoy, Happy Ghost Hunting,
Haunted (it's crazy!)
In 1988, we lived in a house that was gorgeous during the day but when night came, our comfort went out the door. At first we hardly noticed the strange things that happened but it soon became clear that we were not very welcome there. It wasn't a big house; mom and dad had their room, my sister had her room and I had mine. My room was in the back of the house. But no one and nothing bothered me. Unfortunately, it wasn't the same case for my sister, 2 years old at the time. She was constantly complaining about the man sitting on the warderobe. Of course we all just thought she was being silly. Then one night, she woke up screaming bloody terror - I think she'd woken the entire town with that bloodcurling scream - and so came the first of many times that I was to move into the 'haunted room'. I'm not scared. Or that's what I thought. I saw the man sitting on the warderobe that very first night and he was laughing. In South Africa we have this myth about the 'Tokkelozi' and most people were 'careful'. This myth has its roots in African culture and all the black people I had known when I was growing up, believed strongly in this 'Tokkelozi'. They actually placed their beds on bricks so the Tokkelozi couldn't reach them, (their claim was that he was somewhat of 2 feet tall). My upbringing brought me to believe that ghosts and mythical creatures (like the Tokkelozi) don't exist: I guess my 'upbringing' changed considerable when I was 8 because this little man on the warderobe wasn't real. He couldn't have been. How do 'real' things disappear anyway? I didn't mind the man on the warderobe because he simply laughed at me. Besides, if the Tokkelozi is so small, how did he get onto the warderobe? With his cackle and my girlish laughter - which later turned into mockery - we had an okay relationship, this ghost and I. Until he killed my dog. My dog's name was Cindy and I truly loved the little thingy she was. But the ghost wanted to get back at me and did so by - heaven knows why - having the dog sleep on top of front wheel of my dad's car. How she got up there, I don't know. The dog died and the next morning around 2am, I woke up. My hands were wet and I didn't understand from what. I hadn't been crying in my sleep. I switched the light on and found blood all over my hands and of course, my face. Touching my face with my wet hands had woken me. Maybe it was the symbolism behind the situation, but I was freaked out completely and thoroughly and behaved like only a scared child can; I screamed. It didn't help matters that at that time, there was a scratching sound at my bedroom window. My parents were also shocked by this.Thou shalt not mock... Maybe my mind had shut down, but I hadn't seen that man on the warderobe again. And we moved out of that house. It would be unfair if I should tell everything else that had happened in that house, because it would be second-hand accounts; I hadn't been present when the bride walked down the hallway and scared my dad wittless. Sometime in 1995, a friend of mine claimed to be psychic. I do believe in ghosts. I had previously told my story of the Mother and Child and along with the ghost dogs some years after the situation with the blood on my hands, how can I not? Psychics on the other hand, are a different story altogether. I never believed a word that came out of his mouth. Psychics are
just people that read people very well and he wasn't going to get me to tell him about things that he thought I wanted to hear. He didn't get very far, everytime he tried. But I guess I invited the next incident in. This house we lived in - albeit just for a few months (we moved a lot) - also sported a ghost and I teased him about the ghost. So came the night he walked me home. It was late, there wasn't a star in the sky and no moon. It was pitchblack. Because of the late hour, my parents were already asleep and there was no light coming from the house. I lived in the back garden in this small room with a just-as-small yard of my own. Now with the psychic friend walking next to me, it being so damn dark and me being such a brat, I started mocking the ghost. I guess I shouldn't have... Psychic friend may have been more looney than I am, but he was a good friend. So, me scaring him was nothing compared to the fright I got when he seemingly walked into an invisible wall. And then I started laughing, because this was just so hilarious. Unfortunately, he thought I was possessed by the 'evil spirits' that roamed the night - or the yard - or just my little yard. Whichever way it was, he left at the speed of light and I never saw him again. His parting words will obviously haunt me forever 'mocking supernatural beings will be the death of you'. Although I live in a different country now and I am very much alive, I am still young and no one knows what tomorrow brings. I wouldn't want his words to come back and bite me in the butt, so I stopped mocking ghosts, until 2008. But I couldn't resist...I'll leave this incident for another time...;)
Ghost on My Bed
My name is Alicia, and I’m 28 now, but when i was 8 or 10 i woke up with a terrified feeling. About that time i felt something sit on the corner of my bed. Thinking that it was our cat i went to brush him away,but nothing was there. I quickly went to a fetal position, and covered my head with my covers, and did not move until morning. That was in greenbrier ar at brietwood street.
From 2004-2008, besides deployments to Iraq, I was stationed at Marine Corps Base, Camp Lejeune, NC. Occasionaly, I would get a phone call from my superviser later in the evening informing me, that someone left the lights on, down at the work bays, and to please swing by and turn them off. On my way back to the Barracks, I would swing by, unlock the gates, and drive my vehicle down to the bays, where I would exit my car, go inside and turn the lights off and close the metal doors. There was one time, I went inside the last bay, walked about 50 yards into it, to the control box, turned off the lights, and by the time, I was about to enter my vehicle, I would look back and see the main light on. I walked back in and turned it off for the second time, made sure all switches were off, then again returned to my vehicle, where i looked back, and saw the light again was on. I refused to turn those lights off any more. After leaving the marines, I had little paranormal activities, until I joined the army and went to Germany. In 2009, after completing law enforcment training, I was stationed in Germany from may 2009- May 2011. with one deployment to Afghanistan in between. While conducting Law enforcment, we would search various buildings, and respond to different calls. One call, was to a housing area, where a woman reported hearing her door open, foot steps entering, she would say something, thinking it was her spouse, and it wasnt, the footsteps would run out, door would slam shut. My partner and I got the call and headed over. In the 2 mins, it took to respond to the scene, the door again opened, foot steps were heard, the woman threatend the thing again, and same thing, foot steps ran out slamming the door. My partner and I Heard footsteps going towards the attic, running quickly. I had him run to the front of the building to catch the person, I ran up the stairs, and started going through the attic. I started hearing footsteps, in the dark attic, I pulled out my flashlight and pursued. It always seemed a distance in front of me, opening and closing the fire escape doors in front of me, I heard 2/3 doors open and close in the attic, that go to the stairwells and appartments. I heard the last open and close, so I chased after it, and again it always seemed 1 or 2 flights of stairs ahead of me, until we reached the bottom, where i threw open the door, and my partner looked at me and asked, "you see anything?" I was both confused and nervous, due to i just chased it right to him, and he didnt see anything. I asked him, if he saw anybody run, he said only me. But he did say he saw my flashlight moving quickly in the attic windows, and was watching them, but no one came out either side, or front. Another night, I was at a part of the base closed down. The part was abandoned but was still our duty place. We were outside the car smoking, with the street lights on, around 9pm. I was talking to my partner, when out of the shadows, I saw a figure of a person, walk out of the bushes, turn as if they saw us, and went behind the bushes. My partner and I gave pursuit, and came to the fence line with no signs of access. We pulled our flashlights, and proceeded to search the wood lines, where we found no evidence of anybody. We walked towards the school, which had been closed for a long time. From the outside of the school, we could hear what appeared to be quite talking, and strange lights, as if someone was patroling the hallways. We both turned off our lights, and could still here what sounded like shushing coming from the indside, and the lights disapeared down the hall ways. We checked all doors and windows, which were locked, this confused us. We called our supervisor to the scene, explained it, and he verifyied all doors and windows were locked. He checked the fence line, and wood line and did not see anything at all. Keep in mind, Baumholder , Germany has been known as a populated area since around 40 BC if not before, The SS under Adolf Hitlers order, turned Baumholder into a training camp for his soldiers from 1939-1945. The French occupied Baumholder from 1945-1950 time frame, where we occupied it from then until currently