Well, I too have had a very strange experience
and I still think upon it still to this day even though it happened along time
ago, I vividly recall in my mind the image of what I saw some 25 years
I was around 16 or 17 years old at
the time. And it was quite late perhaps 11:30 pm ,and as I recall, I was driving
home from my sisters place and I remember not wanting to take the main roads
home so I took the short cut which required me to drive down old country roads
that were not lit up and were always a little creepy to me. However, In a
hurry to get home so as not to upset my parents, I ventured the path and
found myself almost home, no more than 3 miles away when all of a sudden,
from the left side of my eye, I saw a glow of light moving towards the very path
my car was on. I remember being surprised, yet unable to make
out at first what this was I was seeing. In just a fraction of a second, this
glow revealed itself to be a dog. A glowing almost solid shaped white glowing
dog. The glow did not stop at the perameters of the creatures body outline, but
went up some 12 to 20 inches above and all around the dog and a trail of light
followed it and almost lite up the whole area in front of my car. I
can't remember skidding or breaking my car hard, it all happened so fast,
but I do remember not wanting to hit the *dog* but knew instantly I could not
avoid doing so due to its path and the timing involved, it was inevitable..I
was going to hit it. Just in the moment of conscious awareness that my car
and the dog were on a head on collision course, the moment of impact
occured! Much to my utter amazment, No sounds...no
thud........no cries of agony came out of my ghost dog.......my car
glided right through this creature as if it wasn't really there. I know had
this dog been a live dog....I would have certainly destroyed it for I hit
it sideways while it was directly in front of my car.....it would not have been
able to run to the side safely for it was directly ahead of me and I saw and
watched as my car speed right through it............Stunned but to afraid to stop, I drove
home quickly the rest of the way frightened beyond my mere ability to express
it. I dont tell many people this storyfor I realise it is
indeed strange and I have no need to convince people of my absolute belief that
I hit a ghost dog. In closing....I might add.......in the corner of
my mind where I keep this memory...l am aware it was a colli and also that it
turned and looked at me as I speed on down the road. I feel the dog was
concerned for my safety and had to make sure I was ok. I remember thinking
it was a very sweet spirit on its way very quickly to his destination when we
collided.........I hope I didnt slow him down to much!well thats it, that is my
storyand like I said before.....for some reason after
all these years... I still think of this experience and know it happened and it
was real....and I still shake my head in amazement.
When I was about 18 years old, my grandfather - who had suffered from diabetes
almost his entire life - was admitted to the hospital. He was suffering from
gangreen that came about due to an open sore he incured on his right leg I
believe. Anyway, soon after my family learned that he was going to have to
have his leg amputated but, as if that isn't tragic enough for a person to
suffer...that should be the worst of it and recovery wasn't supposed to have
been a problem. The day of the amputation I remember being very solemn and I
came home from my morning classes, louged around for a while then took a nap
on the couch. While I was sleeping, I distinctly remember feeling someone - a
male - putting their hand on my shoulder...I FELT it...and telling me "don't
worry...everything's going to be ok", and then he repeated "everything's going
to be ok". The voice was very familiar but had a certain appeasing quality to
it which was not at all what I had been accustomed due to the circumstances at
hand. I distinctly remember waking up and looking at the clock. I noted the
time to be 3:15 pm. Naturally I assumed that the person who had placed their
hand on my shoulder had been either my brother or my father. I soon learned
that it was neither. Later that night my grandfather passed away. I don't
know if it was coincidence or not but the time of death was noted at 3:15 am.
I was never frightened by what happened, obviously at first because I wasn't
completely aware...but even after I learned......I've never been anything but
comforted by the fact that my grandfather chose to stop and tell me goodbye.
I'm not sure if this belongs here, but I have read many of the
experiences that have been posted here and feel that this experience can
find it's own place on this site.
I was baptized Catholic, brought up Protestant and claim no religion.
My mother wanted me to be a priest but, to her disappointment I
questioned everything. Often we argued and to her dismay I never became
In Viet Nam I had many close calls. It was like I had a Guardian Angel.
In 1972 President Nixon promised to end the war with "Honor". We were
getting our butts kicked. One day after a mission, I was called to the
"Orderly Room" and told that I was supposed to be out of the ARMY, two
weeks ago. Nineteen hours later I was on the streets (A CIVILIAN!). I
was "plucked" out in the middle of combat and sent home with 72,000
troops. I was a "Space Cadet" ( NO WAR STORIES). During this time I
had lost several friends that were still in the war.
I had trouble locating my family (my mom had bought a new home and the
mail was slow to find me). They were unprepared for me so I slept on
the living room couch. The living room was lighted by a street light
that shown brightly through the bay window.
I was awaken by something or someone shaking me violently. I opened my
eyes and the whole room was shaking from side to side and I was covered
in a dark shroud. I felt the presence of pure evil, I was right in the
middle of it. I could see the street light shinning through the the
window, the room was vibrating violently. I could feel this evil trying
to to overcome me. I struggled to get to get to my feet and get to the
hallway door ( I don't know why, I just knew I had to get to the
hallway). The closer I tried to get to the door the farther away it
got. I was caught in the grasp of the evil, I was losing the battle. I
said, "God, please help me!" All of a sudden the door was right at my
face, the room still shaking. I opened the door and I saw a silhouette
that I can only describe as "Cousin IT" from the Adams' Family. It put
its arms around me and started walking me backwards towards the couch.
I could feel it's long thick hair, my arms were around a solid object
and all the time it was walking me backwards it whispered in my ear,
"Everything is all right." It walked me backwards, laid me down on the
couch and kissed me. I opened my eyes, the room was still shaking and
then it suddenly stopped. A very strong feeling of peace suddenly
overcame me. I have never felt this nor the evil again.
Location: Opelousas, Louisiana
I have always been fascinated by paranormal activity. I can remember as a small child
breathlessly pouring through books about ghosts, hauntings, and the paranormal. Although
I cannot recall what the first book I read on the subject was, I can remember being totally
enraptured exploring the subject. I quickly exhausted my little elementary school's resources,
although I sometimes read the books on paranormal activity over and over and over again.
As I grew older, my interest did not lessen and my own personal library was becoming quite
large with books both factual and fiction. I began to entertain the thought of becoming a
parapsychologist (although not very seriously) and would read late into the night - sometimes
scaring myself silly. If I fell asleep reading one of these "trash" books (as they were called
by my mother and grandmother) I would wake to the inevitable lecture on filling my mind with
such inappropriate things. Still, my interest did not lessen. I did, however, never consider
that I myself would become a "victim" of such activity. The house I lived in was fairly new.
No one close to me had died in the near vacinity of my home. We were religious people ( devout
Roman Catholics - things like this always happen to us) and ghosts seemed to me reserved for the
attics of old Civil War plantations or abandoned cemeteries. Even so, I was sure (from reading
and watching such books and movies) that I would move directly out of any house that showed
any sign of being "haunted". I believed this until the summer of 1990 when my attitude became
subject to severe change.
To my shock and horror, my mother died suddenly on June 19, 1990, a week before her 40th
birthday. In an instant my whole life changed. Coupled with the horrible grief I was
experiencing at losing my mother my family structure was also changing. Within that same
week my sister moved in with my maternal grandparents next door (they had always been
guardian angels to she and I). My step-father immediately rented an apartment and moved
out of our home to further himself from the pain of losing his wife. I was left alone in
the house - by my own choice of course but alone all the same. Although my grandparents
lived only a few hundred yards from my front door, they seemed a million miles away when
I walked into my empty house at night. My world had fallen around me. In the two years
before my mother's death, she and my grandmother both developed cancer and my mother
subsequently had a severe mental breakdown from which she never recovered - topping off
her lifetime filled with broken marriages, marital abuse, and mental illness and she
finally died from - of all things - heat stroke. My life was now such that I had just
graduated high school, lost my mother, began college, was living alone, and was dealing
with some aspects of my sexuality that I had ignored my entire life. Needless to say,
I was a bundle of nerves, grief, and stress.
The first event in my house happened two weeks after my mother's funeral. An old friend of
mine (We'll call him Mike) and I were reunited by my mother's death after nearly two years
of not speaking to each other. The only light in the pit of blackness I felt I was living
in, I kept Mike in very close contact. It was not rare for him to stay over in my sister's
old bedroom after a night of talking, crying, and catching up on the time we had spent away
from each other. One Sunday morning, Mike paid a visit to me after going to church (Mike was
devoutly religious) He was accompanied by a friend named Kyle, whom I had met only once before.
We began talking and laughing, and ended up listening to some old comedy albums on the stereo
in my bedroom. Seemed like a great morning. Since we were listening to the recordings we were
all pretty quiet, so I was quite shocked when Mike looked up at me and said "Well, aren't you
going to see what she wants?".
"What are you talking about?" I asked, confused.
"Your grandmother is in the living room. She just called for you." I immediately got up from
where I was sitting and went into the living room of my house. It was not strange to me that
my grandmother would have been in my house unannounced since she lived right next door and was
accustomed to just popping over at any given time. I was quite suprised when I found no one
there. I checked the entire house, calling my grandmother's name, and then went back into my
bedroom with an odd look on my face and explained to both Mike and Kyle that there was
absolutely no one other than the three of us in the house. Mike protested, claiming that he
heard her calling my name repeatedly. Problem solving to the best of my ability I turned and
went to the phone to call my grandmother. She immediately answered her phone. She denied
being in my house and had just come in from mowing her lawn. I explained the situation to her,
and she laughed it off saying that the voice Mike heard must have come from our neighbor's
home (which, incidentally, was a good 500 yards away) or that we had had a little too much
to drink the night before. After more discussion and realizing that she would be of no help
to me I ended the conversation. I was more confused than ever, but not really bothered by
the situation. I went back to my bedroom to give the guys an update on my conversation.
Mike immediately went pale and said "There was somebody in this house. There was a voice.
It was calling your name. It was a woman. Therefore it was either your grandmother, your
sister (who was in New Orleans at the time), or your mother (he said this rather jokingly).
So I suggest we search your house".
"I've already looked and there is no one here!" I protested.
Kyle finally piped up. "I don't know you very well, but I know what I just heard. There was
a woman in this house and she was calling your name. I still can't get over the fact that you
didn't hear it because it was very loud and came from the vicinity of your living room, so if
you guys are playing some joke on me, its becoming increasingly unfunny."
Hoping to ease the situation I replied "Look, it must have come from the neighbors. So lets
all forget about it. No harm done". Mike looked very nervous and scared, stated again that
he definitely heard the voice, and that it came from inside of the house - not from neighbors
a good distance away. Kyle was extremely nervous and expressed his desire to leave. After
some further discussion and my trying to calm everyone's nerves, Mike and Kyle left my house
and I went back to my everyday activities without giving it much further thought until two
It was afternoon and I was on the phone with a good friend named Karen. I was sitting in my
recliner located in the living room, clothed in only my underwear (a privilege granted by the
fact that I now lived alone) and was chatting away quite happily about a party we were planning
at my house for the following Saturday. All of a sudden I heard a woman's voice saying
something from the adjoining kitchen. I was so suprised that I didn't pay much attention
to what was being said. I was more concerned with having no clothes on. I immediately dropped
the phone, lept out of my chair, and grabbed a large T-shirt that I had left draped over the
furniture. As I was doing this I said, "Who's there". There was no answer. I walked in to
my kitchen and no one was there. The kitchen door was still latched and my house was silent.
My grandparents were away for the afternoon visiting relatives. My sister was with them.
Feeling pretty spooked, I went back to the phone and said "You will never believe what just
"Who's there?" Karen asked."No one" I replied. "There isn't anyone here".
"I just heard a woman talking to you" she said.
Feeling a little relieved that I was not going losing my mind, I told her that I had heard
it too. I asked her if she heard what was said but she could only say that it sounded like
my mother or my grandmother (their voice inflections were very similar). "My grandmother is
gone, Karen. There's nobody in the house but me." Karen then gave me the best advice
I could think of at the time . She said "Get out of the house".
I immediately hung up the phone and did so as quickly as possible. I was very afraid.
I stayed at my grandparents that whole afternoon. I thought that I might be having a mental
breakdown myself. Yet Karen's hearing the voice ruled that one out. Perhaps it was the
neighbors, but they really were too far away. I knew that the voice came from my kitchen
and, yes, it sounded like my mother or grandmother. Both choices were included in the realm
of impossibility. I was too scared to go back home and did not know what I would do. So I
My grandparents returned at 5:00 PM that evening, and they were immediately confronted by a
seemingly irrational grandson. I told them about the situation. My grandfather, a gentle man
who was badly affected by my mother's death, listened up to the part where I said it sounded
like my mother's s voice. He then became uncharacteristically angry and yelled at me,
insisting that I "get my butt home and be sure to never talk about this again". My grandmother
said nothing. I begrudgly went back home. I cautiously walked in and for a while was too
scared to make a sound, still trying to piece together in my mind what had happened and looking
for a viable explanation. At one point, I opened all of the windows and drapes, turned on the
television, and tried to make things as cheery as possible in the house. After all, it was my
house. I helped a little, but I slept with the light on for the next few nights.
Karen told a good number of people about the incident, so by the time the party rolled
around that Saturday everyone was interested in my ghost whom everyone was calling "George"
(I don't know why the male name; it was a female voice we had heard). At one point Karen and
Mike were retelling their stories to the group of 15 (who were all sleeping over, incidentally).
One girl Maria, who was feeling particularly spooked, got up and said "I am going to the
restroom. When I come back I want all of this nonsense stopped. I will not stay in a house
I cannot sleep in". She then said to the ceiling "And George, I will not let you ruin a
perfectly good party. Keep yourself hidden". She then walked away from the group and down
the hall to the bathroom. Just as she crossed under the attic door , it fell open and hit
her in the back of the head knocking her to the ground. She screamed and we all went to her
assistance. The attic door was one of the kind which had springs to hold it up flush against
the ceiling and a ladder that folded out from it for easy access into the attic. A few years
previously one of the springs had broken and the attic door hung ajar from the ceiling. To
remedy this, my stepfather had put a nail in the ceiling and bent it back to hold the attic
door in place. After seeing that Maria was all right, I began to fold the ladder back up and
the lift the door to the ceiling explaining to everyone that the door spring were broken and
that the nail had simply slipped. The door would not go up entirely, though; the nail was
still in its place and had not been moved. No one slept over that night. Karen was nice enough
to help me clean up and was looking very apologetic for the nights events. I kept rambling
there being a reasonable explanation for all this. At one point, Karen suggested something.
"I think you should move" she said. "Don't be silly" I responded. "This is my house". At
that moment my stereo began blaring at a deafening volume. We looked at each other and walked
over to the stereo together. I tried turning it off but it wouldn't respond. I then who
looked up a Karen who was holding the cord in her hands. It was unplugged. I grabbed it
from her. I looked at the cord and back to the stereo over and over, not comprehending how
this could be happening. then it just stopped. I grabbed some things and slept at Karen's
house that night.
The next few weeks were relatively quiet. I came home to an overflowing bathtub one
night, and the lights were flashing occasionally, but nothing extremely weird. I was working
at night while going to school, and came home pretty tired usually. One of these nights I
came home exhausted and hungry, taking only enough time to fix myself a sandwich. I ate it
and went to bed. When I walked in to my kitchen the next morning, I was quite shocked to find
the entire room covered with at least an inch of small, white Styrofoam beads, the kind which
stuffed animals are stuffed with. I stood and stared at the floor for what must have been a half
hour. The door was locked. No one had been able to get inside. At some point I called my
grandmother and asked her to come over to the house without telling her what had happened.
Sensing that it was important, she came over right away. She was very confused to see me
standing in the middle of Styrofoam pellets. I told her that I wanted her to see this for
herself and began to explain to her what happened. She resisted, as I expected, claiming that
I was sleepwalking and had done this myself. I thought about this for a moment, but then
realized that we had no stuffed animals for me to rip apart in my sleep. My sister and I had
thrown them away years ago. Where were the casings. Why was it only in the kitchen. How
could even 20 stuffed animals produce as much stuffing as was on the floor. She had no answer
and we cleaned it up silently. The next day, I had all of the locks to my house changed (I
possessed the only key), locked all of the windows and taped hairs across them to make sure
that they remained unopened. I vowed to face my problem with a new resolve; I was going to
figure out whatever was going on. I was determined that there was a rational explanation for
these incidents (quite strange for me, considering my fascination with the paranormal). In
retrospect I realize that the more I tried to ignore what was happeneing and to explain it
away , the more things happened.
It was about this time that all hell broke loose. It would be impossible for me to
recount every incident that happened over the next year. Lights flashed, doors opened and
slammed closed. My stereo, which now was perpetually unplugged, would take the notion to turn
itself on every now and then. I heard whispering and laughter. I would find knickknacks moved
around the house. A few pieces of jewelry showed up out of nowhere. I could set something
down, turn around for two seconds, and it would vanish (like the expensive fountain pen I
received as a gift from a college friend; I still have never found it). I went through 17
answering machines in 1 year, since they all seemed to malfunction, four of them catching on
fire. I would come home from school or work and find that picture frames had broken and glass
scattered all over the house. I had a collection of Chinese corkwood creations enclosed in
glass globes on my entertainment center. There were about 10 of them. Over the course of a
month they became smashed, one every few nights, with none of the others being touched.
There is no doubt in my mind that no one was able to get into the house. Still, the TV
turned on in the middle of the night. Lightbulbs exploded for no reason, even when they
were not turned on. My clothes would be mysteriously spread on the floor of my entire house
still on the hangers. The rocking chair would rock on its own. The phone would ring incessantly
with no one on the other line. I had an audio cassette tape of music I had recorded; at the
very beginning of this tape is jarbled language (which also sounds like speech played backwards)
which says very clearly "(my name) I can't get out of your stomach!". I can guarantee that no
one was around when this tape was being recorded. It is the scariest thing I have every heard,
and I still have it to this day (I have only recently thought of sending it in for analysis).
Event after event occurred, and still I was not convinced that my house was "haunted".
My friends were sure that it was. When I look back I am extremely happy that so many of the
events that occurred happened in full of view of sometimes more than one person. I have had to call
on them many times to verify events. In fact, most of the "big" stuff happened when I was not alone.
I can only imagine how strange it must have been for them to see me remain so calm and say "There
has got to be a rational explanation" when books were falling to the floor right in front of us or
doors were slamming as we spoke. Needless to say, my friends slowly stopped coming by.
Mike did not stop coming over, although he spent many restless nights in the house.
He once woke me in the middle of the night insisting that someone had opened the bedroom door,
crossed the room and went into the closet. Upon inspection, the closet door was indeed
standing ajar. Mike slept with a rosary that night. He also decided to give me a cat whom
I named Phyllis. Phyllis was a pretty tabby/Persian mix who was as yellow as sunshine. She
was very affectionate and loving. But she too, knew something was amis. Many times Phyllis
would hiss at the wall, or arch her back at an empty doorway. She would track empty air with
her eyes. I still remained unconvinced, until the day Phyllis nearly died.
I was sitting in my recliner reading a book when I heard this strange noise. I looked
up to see Phyllis being pulled across the floor, only nothing was pulling her. Whatever it was
had her by the neck and was not letting go. I immediately went to help her, screaming at
whatever it was to "Stop it! Stop it!" and I plucked Phyllis from the floor (I felt no
resistance from anything, however). She immediately had a full blown seizure for a few minutes.
I realized that night, holding my cat and crying, that my house was definitely haunted.
I gave the cat to a friend of mine the next day, hoping that Phyllis would be in a
better environment than the one she had just been. I also began to wonder "who" could be
haunting my house. The obvious nomination was my mother. She died quickly and was troubled
by mental illness beforehand. Yet she was devoutly religious and was such a kind, gentle person
- even in her times of sickness. It hurt me to entertain the thought that she had not gone on
to her heaven after the hard life she had led and was not at rest. Rather sheepishly, I spoke to
our local priest and to my relief he agreed to bless my house. I spoke to him about the
possibilities of a haunting and that I was concerned that my mother was not at rest. It did
help somewhat when he, having known my mother personally, had no doubts that my mother was now
in peace. He assured me that everything would be fine. I still was not convinced that the
spirit in my house wasn't my mother. After all, it was her voice we had all heard in the
beginning. This thought bothered me for a few days until I had a dream. In the dream, my
mother was sitting on my living room sofa. I walked into the room, saw her sitting there
and thought "Doesn't she know that she's dead and not supposed to be here?" In the dream,
I immediately picked up the phone to call my grandmother, and while I was explaining to her
that Mom was sitting on the couch when she was supposed to be dead, my mother spoke up.
"Son, please don't worry. I have gone on but I am so happy. So let go of me and stop grieving.
I love you. Don't worry about me". Then I woke up, with tears on my face. My lights
immediately began flashing off and on. I didn't know what was doing it, but I was certain
that it was not my mother.
My friend Raphael had become especially assaulted at about this point. Glass items
would break near him, objects hit him in the back of the head when in the house, and his car
keys would always disappear regardless of the fact that they did not leave his pocket to turn
up hours later in the toilet bowl, in the kitchen sink, or in an empty closet. He was fairly
squeamish and our good friendship was becoming an inadequate reason to go into my house. The
deciding factor for him was the night the living room light fixture and ceiling fan came
crashing down on his head as he stood below it. He vowed never to enter it again, and from
then on we talked outside.
I only got him into the house one more time, and that was the night I decided I had
to move out. We had decided to go out to a local nightclub. I was at work into the evening
and he was going to pick me up there. I had to shower and change clothes. He had suspected
this and brought his brother along with us so that he would not have to be alone while I
showered and changed since it was bitterly cold and he did not want to stand outside.
We arrived at my house and I hurried to the shower as to not make them uncomfortable.
Raphael and his brother, William, remained in my living room, talking. After showering,
I stood in my bathroom mirror to shave. I put the shaving cream all over my face and began
my task, setting the shaving cream can near the mirror on the other side of the lavatory.
As I was looking into the mirror, the shaving cream can slammed into my chest with incredible
force. I looked down in amazement and suprise, trying hard to find a rational explanation for
this and remembering how terrified Raphael would be if he knew what had just happened.
I looked at the red mark on my chest and became very scared being alone in the bathroom.
I wrapped a towel around myself and went into the front room. As soon as I entered, with only
half of my face shaven, Raphael looked at me and said "What happened!?". I told them what
I had just experienced and asked one of them to come with me while I finished shaving. Raphael
would hear none of it. "There is no way I'm going in there with you" he said. William, who
thought all the stories he heard were a crock, laughed saying that he would stand there while I
finished. Raphael changed his mind quickly when he saw that he would be alone in the living
room and followed suit to the bathroom with his brother and I.
Once there I finished shaving with no incident. I decided to then dry my hair since it
was still wet (much to Raphaels dismay - he wanted to leave so badly). I wasn't talking much.
I was suprised that the entity had been malicious toward me. That had never happened before.
I had decided much earlier that if I would begin to see it (which never happened) or if it hurt
me I would move immediately. I was now faced with moving out of my house. Just then, all
three of us watched a hair spray can lift off of the counter. It stayed steady, just hanging
in the air for a moment, and then it threw itself through the air toward Raphael's head. He
ducked just in time, and there was a huge dent in the door from where the can struck it. I
knew I would have to leave. It had won. I couldn't take anymore.
I decided to move in with some friends in a neighboring town. My grandparents could not
understand why I wanted to move so badly, and I couldn't tell my grandfather the whole story.
My grandmother, whom I did tell, just couldn't let herself believe me. I began to pack.
During the packing process, everything seemed calm, as if it wanted to make me feel foolish
for moving or as if nothing had ever happened there. As I was packing, I kept searching for
items which It had taken from me during the year but I never found any. And all was quiet.
I eventually packed up everything but my living room furniture, consisting of a
humongous old-time leather sofa (9 feet long and incredibly heavy - two people could barely
move it), a recliner, a leather love seat, and a gigantic entertainment center with television,
VCR, knickknacks and dust still on it. In order to move these items, and all the boxes I had
packed previously, my new roommates Darrin and Jason and their friend Earl came over to spend
the night. I had rented a couple of movies and we had pizza. We were planning to get up early
the next morning and move these items and disassemble my king-sized waterbed. With no other
furniture in the house, we all piled into my waterbed and slept there. I was nearest the door.
Now, I had become an extremely light sleeper, as you can imagine. The slightest sound woke
me, not to mention a light coming on in the middle of the night. My bed was the full-motion
type, so movement made by anyone immediately woke me from sleep. I slept nearest the door to
the living room. All seemed well.
The next morning I woke before anyone else. I planned on cooking everyone a big
breakfast and then begin to move things directly after. I walked into my living room,
still sleepy, and was stunned to find that all of my living room furniture had been turned
around to face the wall. The huge couch, the recliner, the loveseat, and the entertainment
center with everything on it. I was infuriated at first, imagining who could have played
such a stupid joke. I was about to wake everyone when Mike pulled up at the house. He
walked in to find me staring at the furniture. After we talked abut it for some time, we
both came to the conclusion that it was a farewell gift from "George". No one could have
gotten out of my bed; I would have felt the bed moving violently. No one could have done
such a thing with no light; there were no lights turned on during the night. I had not heard
a sound coming from the living room. And that couch, big as it was, could not have been moved
easily, if at all, by one person in the dark in a strange house. The entertainment center,
loaded with pictures and collectibles, had completely turned itself around, not a picture or
knick-knack was disturbed as evidenced by the undisturbed dust; this was impossible for any
human to do. I also watched everyone's initial shock as they woke, one by one, to find what
We loaded everything that day for the move, and as I went to close the front door and
lock it, I felt a sense of defeat looking at the empty house. I was angry and sad to leave
my childhood home thinking of all the memories it held for me. "Good-bye, you bastard" I said
to the empty house. A bedroom door slamming shut was the response.
I moved in with my roommates and everything seemed all right for a few weeks.
Then the lights began flashing on and off as soon as I walked into the house, and items
started to disappear. Darrin came in from work one evening to find me sitting on the
sofa watching television. He walked in, set his keys on the bar, and sat in the chair to
ask me what I wanted to do for the evening. After some discussion we decided that we would
rent movies and watch them at home. He picked up the keys so we could drive to the video
store and realized that they were not his own. They were mine. After some time searching
the house, we found his keys behind a picture in his bedroom, where neither he or I had gone
by that point. I came home from work the next day to find my new roommates waiting to talk
with me, and they both insisted that I would have to move out if the events didn't stop.
They did not want a replay of the events in my house in their own. I fully understood.
I soon attended a lecture at the university I was attending on parapsychology, and
spoke with the speaker about my problem. She seemed to think that I did not have a ghost,
but a poltergeist. She said that my emotional stress and the changes I was going through
caused me to emit waves of energy, animating the items in my home and projected voices in
my mind to thin air. I had a hard time believing her, and sometimes still do. I have read
up on it more and realize that all of the elements for poltergeist activity were present
in my situation. I slowly began to take on some stress maintenance behavior. The lights
stopped flashing soon afterward.
Many people have lived in the house since I have moved, and in some way or another
I have asked each of them if they have experienced any unusual behavior. None of them have,
including my sister who lives there with her husband today. I ask her about it every time I
see her. I don't feel uncomfortable going in to the house, and it now represents happiness
to me. It reminds me of the good times in my childhood. I feel surely that the incidents
which happened were fed by my energy - either by myself directly or by some spirit running on
energy it lost long ago.
I am now an adult who has accomplished many things. I am a registered nursing student,
have recently married, and live in the wonderful city of Austin, Texas. I hold down a great
job with a pharmaceutical company, and seem to make ends meet every month. My life is filled
with many interests and loving people. My interest in the paranormal is stronger now than it
has ever been, and I now seriously consider a retirement career in parapsychology. The subject
can enrapture me as it always has. I still, however, stop and wonder anytime I hear a strange
noise or am missing an item I just had in my hands if I am being plagued again. And I still
look back in wonder at how I stayed as long as I did. But I know deep inside that "George"
is gone and won't be back. Hopefully.
Hi, I was surfin the net and came across your page, and I found it very
interesting. It started to make me look back at some of my own experiences to
determine whether or not it was related to the supernatural. Not so long ago,
within the past couple of years to be precise, I would have these dreams,
sometimes they would cause me to awaken during the night, but they were very
strange to say the least.
There would be nights I would go to bed, and have this strange feeling I was
being watched. Naturally, out of instict or security, I would pull the blanket
up sometimes over my head, and sleep that way. There were never any noises or
anything like that, I guess you could say nothing like one would say a
'typical ghostly experience'. Sometime during the night I would be in a half-
sleepy state, and I would feel the blanket that was covering my face being
slowly pulled down toward the foot of my bed. In the state I was in I couldn't
discern whether or not it was being done by my power. The only thing is this
would happen only once during the night, and would not reoccur once I regained
my faculties and awareness during the night. Where it really gets strange is
that sometimes during these experiences, I would feel my neck muscles contract
like I was looking down at my feet, but I would have the sensation that I was
floating. Normally, I was dismissing this as a dream since I really didn't
have the awareness as to whether or not I could prove it did in fact happen.
Until one night I was having this experience and I felt like my face was
touching the ceiling because I felt the condensation of my breath against the
cold ceiling which formed a little condensation, and that night, right after
this occurrence, my mother yelled up from downstairs, "What are you doing up
there??". That's when I knew something was really happening.
I've since moved away from there, my parents still live there, but nobody
ever discusses things of that nature. I've been reading about ghosts since I
could remember, and in the instance skepticism had pretty much dismissed any
other explanation for the reasons of my experiences. For a while in high
school even I was kind of obsessed with the supernatural, I wanted to know all
there was about it, and I read a great deal. Even now, I become engrossed in
documentaries and any recent publications that come out with hard evidence on
the subject. I guess now, what I'm trying to determine is how I can gather
hard evidence on my parents house to see if there is something supernatural is
occupying it, and by learning this I would like to investigate other places in
my hometown area which has a great deal of large Victorian mansions.
Thanks for reading,
My grandfather and I used to argue about life after death. I always
said that once you are dead that is it. I believed in a life after but
I liked to hear him argue about it. He was a devout Catholic and said
that when he died he would come back and let me know that there was a
life after death. He died of Cancer on 1979. My grandmother died just
a very few months before he did. He was in a rest home and called my
mother and his daughter to come to the home right away. When they went
he said he was going Home. They told him that he couldn't. He said he
was because my grandmother had come for him she had sat in the chair
beside his bed and had all those sparkly things in her hair is the was
he put it. He said she had gone ahead of him and made things ready for
him like she always had.
Shortly after that I moved into his house. He had a big work shop
close to the house where he would go to build things. He also had lawn
chairs in the back yard where he sat every night before it got dark.
Every time I went into that work shop I could smell His pipe tobacco..
It was his own blend because he mixed it himself. It had a smell that
was not consistent with any other tobacco. At first I thought it was
just because I was used to it and the smell had lingered in his shop
after he died. Then one night I was sitting in the lawn chairs and the
chair beside me began to rock back and forth like someone was sitting in
it and suddenly I smelled grandpa's pipe very strong. I knew he was
telling me that there was life after we leave this one. Until I moved
from his house I always felt comforted and calm as though he was always
there watching over me.
A long time ago now, in 1970, a person,
we will say a friend of mine, served and suffered with the army in Vietnam. Now,
Vietnam is a land of ghosts. Many different kinds of ghosts. Ghosts fit well in
While there is no good time to have a war, there are especially bad times...
and one of these is during the monsoon season in Southeast Asia.
Air support is largely grounded, rivers flood, roads
dissolve and the jungle steams and drips. But the enemy went on and so did those
that fought him. Patroling, though limited, was constant.
My friend's unit was tasked with keeping tabs on this old rubber plantation.
Abandoned by it's French planter, it was visited from time to time by both
sides. With long rows of black trunks , the grey light, the dripping leaves ; it
was a place you could see anything. The patrol had set up an L shaped ambush
along one of the trails that crossed the plantation and were waiting for sunset.
Slowly, in the twilight, figures came into view heading toward their
position. The alarm was passed and weapons readied.
The figures resolved into men slumped
under helmets, rucksacks and weapons slouching down the trail. As they got
nearer those in the ambush realized that the figures made no sound as they
shuffled through the leaves covering the ground. When nearer still, to their
shock, those waiting realized that could see the trees through the figures as
they passed, even as they smelled the strong scent of French cigarettes. The
figures continued on their way into the dripping dark, timeless ghosts,
soldiers of the endless march.
First, let me begin
by telling you that I recently purchased and reside in a victorian Gothic
home that was built in 1885. We know the last name of the family
that originally built the house and the names of the family we purchased
it from, but nothing in between. Our family is made up of myself
and my husband and our two children, ages 10 and 2. Many "little"
things have been happening for a few months. By little I mean things
that I can usually find a rational explanation for, i.e.. doors that open
and close by themselves, cold spots, feelings of being touched when there's
no one else around. There was one episode, however, that I truly
cannot explain.It happened last November, I can't remember the date,
at about ten p.m. My son was staying at my parent's house for the
night and my daughter and I were just going to bed. My husband peeked
his head in the bedroom door to say that he was going to go outside and
have a cigarette before going to bed. As I talked with my daughter
I could hear my husband go out the front door and walk across the porch
to where he usually goes to smoke. My daughter likes me to sing songs
with her before we go to sleep, so I was singing "Old Mac Donald" when
I heard a male voice say my name into my ear. It was very clear
and not only did I hear it, but I could FEEL it on my ear! As just
a natural response, I turned my head toward the sound and answered"What?"
There was no one there.So I just laid there for a while, listening.
My daughter even asked what I was doing. Then I heard my husband
walk back across the porch and enter the house again. When
he came up to say good nite, I didn't tell him about what had just happened.
I wasn't sure at the time what to think! It hasn't happened since
then, but I did announce out loud in my room one day that the "person"
should not bother me like that. I have never felt frightened in the
house or in my bedroom, where the occurrences happen. The door has
just recently started to close by itself again...I plan to
use the information found on this web site to investigate the former owners
of the house, any significant incidents, and possibly hunt my "ghost".
Shadowlands Page is ever so interesting! I have had several of
the "ghosts of the living" experiences, but when it happened, and I spoke to
my dad later(it's always his voice I hear), there was no particular crisis, or
anything else going on that he could think of. Maybe he was just thinking of
me? Who knows........But in every instance, I heard his voice so clearly,
that it startled me. There is no mistaking his voice for someone else's; it's
The first time this happened was in 1970, early morning, in my apartment near
the university where I was attending college. Both my parents were away out
of town on my dad's business trip and I was not thinking of either of them at
the time this happened. I was lying in bed about to get up to get ready for
my class, and listening to the radio. With absolute clarity, I heard the
kitchen door of my apartment open up, and my dad's voice loudly called out my
mom's name, questioning, and with urgency, as if wondering if she was in
there. I remember being amazed that they were back so soon from their trip
and called out "I'm in here, Dad, come on in". I waited a couple of minutes,
thinking maybe he'd gone back downstairs(apt. was the second story of a
house). Then I got up and went into the kitchen, calling him as I went,
curious to see that the kitchen door was still bolted from the inside, just as
I had left it. I looked outside; his car was nowhere around, and I was
puzzled that he had done such a thing, and then immediately left! I called
their house---no answer; called his office, and was told that both parents
were still out of town and the secretary had just spoken with my dad in that
city a few minutes ago!!
This very same thing has happened on several occasions. Sometimes Dad's voice
is calling my sister's name, sometimes my own, and sometimes my mom's name
again; but the same sequence of events every time. This has not happened, in
probably the past 10 years, but I remember each instance as if it happened
During approx. a 6-month period in the early 1980's, something similar
happened at my sister's house (I was not there at the time)when she and her
three children and husband were living in Amarillo, TX. They had a large ,
newly-built two-story house at the time, and the kids were 15,13, and 8 yrs
old then. On several occasions, when all were at home except my brother-in-
law, and each person was in a different room of the house, they all clearly
heard the front door open and close, and a voice loudly calling the oldest
child's name over and over, and sounding very frantic and agitated. All four
people in the house heard this very clearly, and each one thought the voice
was one of the other two siblings calling her name. Everyone ran downstairs
to see what was the matter, and saw no one else around. Each of the other two
siblings were as puzzled as everyone else as to who it could have been. The
front door was locked from the inside. This same thing happened two or three
other times, and has not happened again since. On two separate occasions,
the family came home from an evening out together and opened up the back door
to find all my brother-in-law's hunting knives plus all sharp kitchen knives
laid out in patterns on the kitchen floor. There was never any evidence of
criminal entry into the house, and both times the alarm system had been armed
I also had a very frightening experience with a haunting just after my
husband and daughter and I had moved to Virginia in 1989. That experience was
unrelated to any voices. If you have an interest, I can also tell you about
This happened to me in early 1995. I don't know if what I saw can be classified as a ghost or
We were newlyweds living in our first apartment. Here's the layout of our place. We lived in
a rather large apartment complex and rented an apartment that was on the top floor of a three
story building. I'm not sure how old the buildings were...I'd say they were built in the late
60's or early 70's. There were no balconies, fire escapes, or other buildings next to us
except a one story house that had been converted to a bar and that was probably about 80 yards
away from our building and was a little down hill from us. As you stood at the front door
the dining/living room was in front of you with a large picture window on the opposite wall
and the television was just to the left of the window. The kitchen was directly to your right
with a wall separating the kitchen and the hallway that led to the bedrooms. I'd say the total
depth of the apartment was about 30 feet deep from the front door to the picture window.
Since we were on the third floor and no one could see into our place I would usually leave
the drapes open at night.
One night my husband went to the gym to work out. It was still winter it was already very
dark out. I was in the kitchen cleaning up and the TV was on in the living room for noise.
I can't even remember what show was on at the time but it had caught my attention and I wanted
to watch that part of the show. I was standing close to the kitchen, about 20 feet away from
the window. For some reason I looked out the window and saw what I thought was my reflection
when I suddenly realized it was NOT!
I saw a man from the waist up. He had short dark hair and was wearing a light-colored sleeveless
shirt and he had quite a muscular build. From his reflection I surmised he was standing between
me and the window and had his back towards me, but I couldn't quite make out his face. After
staring at him for what seemed to be an eternity he seemed startled, like he realized I could
see him and he turned to his right and walked towards the hall to the bedrooms. I could see
his reflection as he walked until he got past the window. Then he was gone. As I think about
it now he must have been pretty close to the window since I could see him from the waist up.
That means he was walking towards the wall that separated the living room from our guest
I was frightened...I think my fear was more from the unexpectedness of the encounter. I did
not feel threatened by him or feel that he was harmful in any way. I sat on the couch until
my husband came home and hour or so later. I told him about it and he thought I was seeing
things. The funny thing is that the man I saw had my husband's short hair and muscular build
and when my husband worked out, he always wore an old grey t-shirt with the sleeves cut off.
But he was not under duress at any time that night so it wasn't him trying to contact me.
I've often felt like someone was in the room with me or thought I had seen someone out of the
corner of my eye but have always attributed it to an overactive imagination. There have been
a few times where I have been in dangerous situations (I'm a very klutzy person) but have
gotten out of them...almost like someone is watching over me, protecting me. I sometimes
wonder if I saw my guardian angel that night. I have not had any other experiences since.
My name is Kat, and I'm 14 years old. I have always been interested in the
paranormal, I just figured there had to be something beyond death besides
Heaven and Hell. It's just such a mystery......it really makes you think!
Anyway, it was so cool to find your web sight....I do have quite a real
Unfortunately, I was not around...I was told this by my parents. And
they're not one's to kid around about something like this. They were newly
weds(1980 I believe) and they moved into this old house. The land lords
were very old and "creepy", in their words. It was a two story house and in
one room there was a cold spot...no matter how hot it was the spot was
always cold. So that was the first sign of the possibility of a spirit. My
father claims he would see something going around corners when he went into
a room and both my parents said when they would turn the key to the front
door something scampered up the stairs. My dad was working retail at the
time and would get home late at night, and my mom says the stove would
click when ever he came home.....and only when he came home. They said that
they would come home and see that the magazines were straightened but no
finger prints on the dust. Most people stop me here and say it could have
been their imaginations running wild ..until I told them this next part. It
was one of the first nights they were there. Their bedroom was on the
second floor and they were downstairs watching TV They heard a large
*THUMP* from their room. They rushed up to find ALL their clothes off the
hangers...even the ones that were pinned on had no rips on them. I'd say
the house was haunted. My dad thinks it was a woman. ( what man would
straighten up the house.) He also says he could feel her presence while
going to sleep at night.
I heard the story and was amazed! That happened while they lived in
Kansas. My mom got pregnant with me and moved away. They had my brother six
years later and we moved to Florida three years later('93). We lived in one
house an apartment and the house we live in now. This just may be my
imagination but......I was home alone and I was taking a shower and the
door opened. I didn't think much of it so I sut it and pulled on it so it
would not open again and right as I was standing there I watched the door
knob turn, the door open all the way and shut right before my eyes. I told
my parents but what could they do. Then it happened again. I was in my
brothers room( home alone) and I was playing sega and talking on the phone
with my friend, John. The door opened a little so I got up and shut it.
Then the same thing happened as in the bathroom three times as I was
standing there. I was too scared to move.....John asked me why I kept on
opening and shutting the door. I told him it wasn't me. He's the only one
who believed me.....I hope you will too!
I gotta go!
Please E-mail me back and tell me what you think! PECARROLL@prodigy.net
HI, THERE. WELL, HERE GOES.
ONBOARD THIS VESSEL, THERE ARE WHAT ARE CALLED "HOLDS", WHICH ARE VOIDS
LOCATED AT THE BOTTOM OF THE SHIP TO STORE AMMUNITION. WELL, IT IS THE JOB
OF THE GUNNERS' MATES TO STAND WATCHES ON THIS PART OF THE SHIP WHILE IT IS
OUT TO SEA, SO YOU COULD IMAGINE HOW CREEPY IT SHOULD GET DOWN THERE IN THE
MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT. I COULD SENSE THIS MYSELF, HAVING STOOD VERY LATE
WATCHES IN MY OWN WORKSPACE AND THEN TRAVELING DOWN ABOUT 3-4 LEVELS OF THE
SHIP JUST TO GET TO THE VENDING MACHINES IN THE LATE HOURS OF THE NIGHT,
WHEN EVERYONE ELSE ONBOARD WAS ASLEEP. WELL, TO GET BACK TO THE STORY, THEY
SAY THAT YOU CAN SEE A CHIEF WALKING AROUND IN HIS KHAKI'S IN THE VOIDS'
LATE AT NIGHT. AS MUCH AS I HAVE HEARD THOUGH, HE JUST APPEARS AT THE VERY
CORNER OF YOUR EYE, AND YOU CANNOT SEE HIM IF HE WAS STARING STRAIGHT AT
YOU. SO WHAT MAKES THIS STORY A LEGITIMATE HAUNT? WELL IT IS BECAUSE ONCE,
LONG AGO, WHEN THE SHIP WAS NEWLY COMMISIONED, THERE WAS THIS STORY ABOUT A
CHIEF, A GUNNER'S MATE ANXIOUSLY AWAITING THE ARRIVAL OF HIS WIFE TO VISIT
HIM. WHEN HE HAD GOTTEN WORD THAT SHE ARRIVED HE JUMPED ABOARD THIS
ELEVATOR, (WHICH IS MEANT STRICTLY FOR AMMO AND NOT PERSONNEL), WHEN HE
TRIPPED AND HIS BODY WAS TRAPPED BETWEEN THE ELEVATOR AND THE RAPIDLY
APPROACHING CEILING, HIS HEAD BEING THE ONLY PART THAT WAS NOT ON THE
ELEVATOR. SO EVERYBODY ON THE UPPER LEVEL WAS WONDERING WHAT WAS ABOUT TO
ARRIVE ON THE ELEVATOR WHEN WHAT THEY NOTICE WHAT DOES ARRIVE IS A BODY,
WITH NO HEAD AND BLOOD GUSHING OUT OF THE AREA WHERE IT ONCE LAY AT. AND
YES, SADLY THE WIDOW WAS THERE TO WITNESS THIS ALSO.
Hi. I myself have only had three experiences in my short life time. I am 14 yrs old and I live in mass.
Two of my experiences have taken place at my grandmas lace in Cape Cod. The first happened about three yrs
ago, me and my cousin had gone upstairs to their otherrefigerator to get some juice for the BBQ we were
having with our families. Heather (my cousin) handed me the juice and told me to go down while she grabed
us some popsicles, so I started down the stairs and I as about half way down when Heather screamed, well I
turned around just to see a man walk across the hall and enter her room. I ran back up there and we went
in to see where he had gone, we searched the whole room and the guy had disappeared, from a SECOND story
room! The second thing I experienced there was when I was spending the night there and I woke up in the
middle of the night and their light (it was one of the ones where you touch it to turn it up)was getting
brighter and brighter! At first I thought it was just one of my cousins doing it, but they where in their
beds, asleep. The light kept going on, and getting brighter, and going off again. The last time it came
on it stayed on ,by this time my cousins had awoken and were freeking out, I had ducked under my covers
and after it stopped I looked up....right into the eyes of a older man I had never seen before! He
disappeared after a second and I never saw him again. Later when I was looking through a old photo album
I saw the man! I asked my dad who he was and he said that man is my father. My grandfather had been dead
since my dad was 15, long before my parents meet, way before I was born. The creepy thing is that just
before he died he told my grandma he would never leave her! That house had been haunted for yrs. before my
experience but more on that another time. The third time I experienced something out of the ordinary was
at my own house, I used to live in a two story duplex with my aunt and her family, we lived on the bottom
and they lived on top,and then there was the attic where we would always play. The attic is where the
story takes place. There was a little room in the back that always gave me the chills, but that is a
different story. One night we were all in bed and all of a sudden we could hear all this banging from
upstairs,at first we thought it was my cousins playing but it didn't stop, so my dad went up there and we all
followed him,when we got up there we could tell it was coming from the attic and my cousins and aunt and
uncle where all out in the hallway to.We all went up there and the noise stopped but all the boxes and
stuff we had up there were turned upside down and everything was thrown around the room! We cleaned it
up and went back to bed. In the middle of the night we awoke to the noises again! We all ran up there and
found the boxes in the same disaray they had been in before! We went to bed and said we would take care of
it in the morning. When we wokeup in the morning we heard a knock on our door it was our uncle he said
that all the boxes had been returned to their original state of neatness! Does anyone have a good
explaination for all of this? If so I would like to hear it.
Not too long ago maybe about a week or three, I was sitting in my room and
it was around 11:00 pm, I was sitting there in the dark, and I heard
voices whispering, I started to look around and I saw these black shadows
lingering around my room, they were like black smoke. I got freaked and
I turned on the light. Everything stopped, and I thought it was all in
my head. So I turned back off the light and tried to fall back asleep. I
heard the whispering again, but I tried to ignore it and I soon fell
asleep. It kinda sounds like nothing right now, but at that time I knew
something was in my room. In the next few days, every night I heard the
voices, and I'm into wicca, and decided to try a spell to make them go
away. And my friend told me that if they leave then they were evil, but
if they stayed then they were good. Well when I did it, that night I
heard nothing. And so I guess they were evil....
Hey, I've written before on some of my experiences, but I just read one that
reminded me of something one of my friends told me. The story I read had a
part about the author hearing ghosts in the barracks while she was in boot
camp. My friend had similar experiences while in boot camp on Parris Island.
>From what I could understand about the set up of the barracks they were staying
in, there were two wings connected by a big bathroom with showers. My friend,
we'll call her Becky, said that one night while she was up on fire watch, she
heard what sounded like several recruits walking around with shower shoes on
when everyone was fast asleep. Another night, Becky heard someone rummageing
around. She thought it was the other person she was on watch with, but that
person came around the corner just a few moments later. When they were allowed
time to socialize (which didn't happen very often) she talked to one girl who
was staying in another haunted building. The friend was apparently a little
pshycic or something because she said there was something very bad in her
barracks. Becky actually went into her friends barracks and felt an overly
oppressive feeling. It was bad.
One of the popular stories that goes around Parris Island is about a few
recruits that died in the one swampy areas on the island. I think it was
called either the White or Pink Elephant and some people seem to think that it
could be some of those recruits.