When I was about 6 or 7, we moved into a small house in a small peaceful
neighborhood. Shortly after moving in, I began to hear crying sounds in my
bedroom. I told my mother about it and she dismissed it as a childs
imagination running wild. Soon I began to see a full figured little boy
sitting at the foot of my bed with his head in his hands, crying. He was
wearing a shorts and shirt outfit with anchors all over it. (Which years
later we began to refer to him as "The Little Sailer Boy.") Although I spent
many nights in my parents bed, every night I was in my room was the same
thing. A short time later, I became afraid to walk down the hallway by myself
because one night while on my way to the bathroom I saw him standing outside
my brothers room which was next to mine. From then on whether night or day, I
would run down the hall instead of walking. "The little boy" never looked
straight at me, never moved from those two areas and never "said" anything.
Years later in a conversation with my mother, I found out that she had seen
and heard him a time or two. One night she heard him and thought it was me,
she went into my room to see why I was crying only to find me sound asleep.
This prompted her to start asking around to find out if the neighbors knew of
anything happening in this house in the past and several told her about a fire
that happened in that house late at night a few years before. She was told
that there was a family there with two young boys, and their mother and father
and that the whole back of the house burnt. They had no information however
on whether or not it had been fatal. She questioned the owner of the house as
well, but to my knowlede got no sure answers. We lived in that house for about
a year, seeing and hearing him nightly until a house next door opened up, we
then moved into that house and the owner of the original house we lived in
moved in and about a month or so later he moved out, boarded up the windows
and doors and the house remained vacant for years. I have no idea if the
house is still standing or what happened to the "Little Sailer Boy" although
sometimes I still wonder about him. Until now I had only talked of this with
my mother, and my fiance for fear of talk that may occur. Thank you for this
chance to finally share this story.
I don`t know if this was a actual haunting, but after years of pondering
this strange visit I can think of no other conclusion. I have always
been reluctant to share this story because directly after it happened, I
met with nothing but ridicule. I shared this story with my best friend
at the time (she was with me when I witnessed my first haunting at our
summer/lake house the previous summer) and she only laughed at me and
said I was making the whole thing up, she believed me only after I still
insisted it had happened after 15 years. When she finally and
reluctanly believed me, she raised the question that maybe I had visited
once again by an apparition. So, lets see what you, the readers, think
of this story. I swear it happened and have no idea what to make of
it. If anybody has any input or comments, feel free to email. So,
here it goes. You be the judge if I have/had a vivid imagination (this
comment one particulary irrates me) or if I actually saw and conversed
with an apparition.
I was around 14 or 15 years old and home alone. It was a late
afternoon/early summer evening. I heard the doorbell ring and
immediately went to answer it. I saw standing on our porch a man, I
will never forget him. He was heavy, with scruffy black hair and beard,
and he was wearing worn out dirty overalls.
The man spoke in a southern accent and told me, and I swear this is
true, he and his son were out "PEDDLIN MUSTARD" and his son had dropped
and broke a jar of mustard on our porch. He asked my permission to
clean it up. I looked out on the porch and couldn`t see any spilled
mustard but thought maybe it was out of my view. I granted him
permission and closed and locked the door. I peered out the window, but
the Mustard Peddler was nowhere in sight. Nor did I ever see his son or
the mustard he was supposedly "peddling".
I always found this very strange. This happened in the mid-80`s and I
had never heard of anybody "peddling mustard" door to door. Actually, I
had never heard of anybody "peddling" anything. That was not a word
commonly used for selling at the time (we used the word selling).
Peddling was an antiquated term where I was living. I recently told
this story to a friend and he came up with a conclusion that fit this
story. He thought it was an apparition and he was from the Depression
Era. When he told me this, it just clicked. "YES", I thought. That
was how I would of described the Mustard Peddlar.
Well, there it is, the story that has made me the butt of many jokes
during my teenage years, the story that has made some think I either had
a vivid imagination or was in need of a psychiarist. You be the judge,
but, don`t judge too harshly.
I moved with my parents to our house in GA in 1991 and
experienced nothing out of the ordinary for 3 years until we finished the
stud walls in the basement and I took that as my room.
Before long I began having strange experiences in that
room. One morning I woke up to see a small girl (9-10yrs) sitting
on the love seat I had pushed under my window. She was looking toward
my bed and was dressed in a fashion I associate with the late 19th century.
I stared for several seconds then rubbed my eyes, and when I looked again
she was gone.
About 2 weeks later the same thing happened, only this
time the same girl was joined by a young boy of about the same age and
dress. She was looking over at me again (the love seat was perpendicular
to the bed) but he was staring straight ahead at my bookcase on the opposite
wall. Both had very solemn, but not really dour or unhappy expressions
on their faces.
Another time, when I had just turned out the light to
go to bed, a very deep voice called my name from the direction of
the bookcase It was definitely inside the room and loud. Just
to be sure though, I went out into the rest of the basement to see if anyone
was out there (after turning on all the lights of course!) I was
One night I felt my cat jump up on the bed at my feet
and said "Hello, Fuzz" before I realized that I had closed and locked all
3 doors to my room and was alone in there. When I turned on the light
there was nothing on the bed, but I could still feel the weight.
Also, my fiancee at the time and I were sitting on the
foot of the bed watching the tv on my dresser when we heard scraping noise
behind us. We turned just in time to see all of the things that I
kept on the headboard jump off to land on the bed, except the picture of
my fiancee - it landed a good 3' from the bed, face down on the concrete
Other than the one incidence with the voice, I have never
felt threatened down there, and that also the only auditory experience.
However, many of my friends get a bad feeling going there, and won't go
The happenings seem to be confined to that one room and
there appears to be some connection with the bookcase, but if there is
I don't get it. It is a very modern model bought when I moved into
that room, and there are no occult books in there except some Stephen King
and Anne Rice.
Any professional feedback would be appreciated.
My story is about not 1 but 3 ghosts that reside in our house.we have pictures
of 2 of them taken in the 1997 october snowstorm.There is a small boy who
visits my daughter Brittany fairly frequently.She says he makes her angry
because he always wants to tell her things at bedtime.Then we have an adult
female who goes around and checks on everyone in the middle of the night.This
has unnerved my son so much he will not sleep downstairs ever again.He said he
felt her checking his feet and made sure his covers were pulled up.Then we
have a mischievious male ghost who I believe likes to play catch.There have
been at least 3 times he has thrown something at me or my sisters to get our
attention.He has also made himself known to my brothers.For many years my
brothers had a beer can collection going.one night they were in the model
room(where the can collection was)working on their models when they felt his
hand come down in a swooshing motion and hit the table knocking down the beer
can collection.Now my mother had her own experience with one of the ghosts
many years ago when her and my dad were fighting.She had decided to sleep
downstairs on the couch.She was wakened suddenly by what she described as hot
breath on her face.Well she thought my dad had come to apologize.when she
looked around there was no one there.So then she thought it must be the cat we
had.That too was nowhere to be seen.By this time she was really getting scared
and moved to leave the room.The ghost moved her from the room to the bottom
step in an instant.She didn't hesitate to look back she ran all the way up the
stairs.This is only a small portion of my experiences with ghosts.Thank you
for letting me share with you.
Her Husbands Love
I just want to say that I love this page and
thank you for letting us share our stories. I have always had an interest
in the paranormal, so when my boyfriend told me what happened to his
grandmother, I was extremely fascinated.I love this story because it is so nice and
there is nothing frightening or bad about it. My boyfriend's grandfather
died almost ten years ago when my boyfriend was about 13 or 14. I never
met his grandfather, but his grandmother is a wonderful woman. After his
grandfather's death, strange things ocurred. A little while after the
death, his grandmother was redoing the den. She wanted to put new
wallpaper up. After putting the wallpaper up, she left for a little while
to let it dry. When she came back into the room, all of the wallpaper was
on the floor. I'm not sure why. I think when his grandfather was
sick he spent a lot of time in the den, but I'm not sure exactly why the den was
important. Well, I didn't think that was too weird, but it gets
better. His grandmother has a picture of her and her husband together
hanging by her stairs. One day she noticed a small red dot between their
heads in the picture. Slowly, over time, this dot grew to a larger,
heart-shaped thing between their heads. My boyfriend and his grandmother
took the picture out of the frame to check it to see if something had happened
to it, but they couldn't see anything wrong with it. The texture of the
picture was the same, and it didn't appear to be a stain since the surface was
no different. There didn't appear to be anything wrong with the
picture. I have seen this picture with my own eyes. The best part is
the last part I will tell. His grandmother complained of waking up in the
middle of the night because it felt like someone was touching her. She
also said sometimes it looked like someone was sitting on the bed because she
could see the indentation on her sheets, but no one was there. So one
night my boyfriend slept over her house. He slept in a bedroom right
across from hers. They agreed that if she screamed he should come into her
room right away. Well, during the night he heard her scream. He came
running in the room. He didn't see anything, but she complained of feeling
someone touch her again. He turned on the light, and in the middle of her
floor was a crucifix. The only problem was that she had never seen this
particular crucifix before She had no idea where it came from. So
to this day she has it hanging on her bedroom wall. It is beautiful.
I think it is her dead husband's way of letting her know he is watching over her
and still loves her.
I have a story to tell you about my deceased
grandfather.He died in November 1996. We were all very depressed about his
passing. A few days after we found out he had died, we heard doors gently
closing, things being rearranged, things like that. Well my grandfather
always shut the doors quietly as not to disturb anyone. He was also a neat
freak. If something was out of order he would rearrange it until it suited to
his liking. One night when I was trying to fall asleep, I heard someone
rearranging cups in the cupboards. My room faced the kitchen so if I looked at
the end of my bed..I could see anything that happened in the kitchen.Well
when I heard this I was going to tell the person to be a little more quiet so I
could sleep. I crawled down to the end of my bed. and I looked around the
corner of my door out towards the kitchen. There was no one in the kitchen and
all the cupboard doors were shut. I thought this was so weird.
I walked into the kitchen to look around at what happened. I looked in the glass
cupboard, and all of the coffee mugs were turned around so that the handles were
all facing left..My family always puts the handles towards the right. But when
my grandfather was alive he always grabbed the cup with his left
hand. The next day I did a
test. I put some things in dissaray so he could fix them. Just to see if
it worked.. That night I heard the same rummaging again, I looked at the
objects..and they were arranged alphabetically. My grandfather was also very
careful about how we closed the doors in the house and not to slam them or leave
them open. Well one day I was going out to the garage to get something to
drink. I knew I was all by myself...and the weather was really nice and hot and
there was no wind, so I left the door wide open. When I opened up the fridge
door I heard a creaking sound, I turned around just as I saw the door to
the garage slowly closing and when it shut it click softly. I was so
scared and I didn't know what to do. I went into the house and thought nothing
of it. But as I walked into the house I felt very cold as I walked through
the doorway, like something very cold had been standing there moments
night I tried to sleep again. I dreamt about a grandfather clock that he used to
have. Every time the clock struck midnight in my dream...my grandfather would
appear in my room trying to talk to me. I was kinda scared after it
happened 2 times. But the third night I felt so confident. I tried to talk
back to him. He told me he was ok and was watching out for me. He
said he missed me and can't wait to meet up with me again. I said I missed
and loved him very much.. Then in a cloud of smoke he dissappeared. I woke
up crying.. to this day I will not forget him.
My family and I are originaly from San Diego so naturally I have been in
and experienced some of the strange anomalies that occur in that house
including having an super 8 video of what I can only explain as some one
or something tugging on the curtain between the upstair bedrooms closet
that connects the two. This area became a focus for me because of an
incident that happened to my mother,grandmother and my since departed
grandfather. When they were on a guided tour of the house my grandmother
and mother experienced a cold breeze on the staircase(of which I am sure
you are familiar with the background story on this.)Anyways, they
continued on the tour at first they really didn't notice anything. When
they returned downstairs the tour guide told them that Mrs. Whaley was
being very active that day and did they notice her tugging on the
curtains of the closet. My mother and grandmother proceeded to go up
stairs and sure enough the curtains were moving like somebody was
gently pulling on them. My mother naturally being kind of excited by this
went down and proceeded to get my grandfather(who insisted that there
was no such thing as ghosts)anyways they went upstairs and the curtains
were not moving at all. My grandfather proceeded to turn around and very
sternly tell my mother that there was no such things as gho... at this
point the curtains shook quite violently. Any ways my encounter with this
same area came at Easter time last year my son and I were in the house
and we struck up a conversation with one of the volunteers and I told her
the story of my families encounters. A man carrying a portable tape
recorder introduced himself as someone who was writing about the house
and wanted to record my story because he thought it might be interesting
for his book. Anyways this occurred in the room where my family had
previously had the experience. I proceeded to tell him the story and when
I came to the point of the curtain moving I just happened to glance in
the direction of the curtain to which I said"just like now!"at that
point I proceeded to film the movement and then the windows in either
room to show that they were not open.
Hello. I have visited your page many times to read the stories
people have put about their encounters with ghosts and spirits. My
stories are not much compared to other stories people have. But they
really happend. The first one I have to tell you is one that happend
to me and my sister a few years back. We live in a small house and I
was only about 6 years old. We both awoke in the night to the sound of
a rocking chair in our living room rocking really fast. We would
sleep with our door half open and so my older sis looked out and saw
it rocking! There was no one on it though! We both started to shake
and I was asking her what was out there. WE both clung to eachother
and we could still hear the chair rocking for about 10 minutes at the
same pace as earlier! Finally we became tired again and went to sleep.
The next morning we asked out mom about it and she tried to make it
so we wouldn't be scared and she said that our dad was up and sitting
on the chair rocking! But that is impossible since we could not see
any one on the chair and it kept up a steady pace for that long of a
The next story I am going to tell you is about the time just after
my grampa died. My grandma got up one night to go to the washroom.
After she went she walked into the kitchen for a drink of water! She
lived in a trailer so the living room was right in the open to the
kitchen! She got a glass from the cuboard and turned around to fill
it when she saw what looked like my grampa sitting on his favorite
chair! She thought she was seeing things so she turned around and
filled her glass! But when she looked around he was still there. He
was saying something and it sounded like he was saying. Its ok I am ok
now. He died of lung cancer and was really ill.
Another time was still dealing with my same grampa. Only this one
has to deal with my Aunty. My Aunty is married to a carpenter and he
travels a long ways away from home for a long period of time. My aunty
has a sickness and she gets anxiety attacks and stuff like that and
headaches and she gets really sick at night! One night she woke up
and seen a glowing in the room. She was sick and she was having
problems breathing. She all of a sudden seen our grampa and he was
standing near the door. He was moving his mouth but she couldn't hear
anything. My Aunty use to remeber how he would always be there for her
whenever she was sick. After a few minutes she began to feel better
and soon went back to sleep.
These aren't really anything compared to what I have heard. But I
thought it was kind of weird. My grampa has also been seen by my mom
late at night and my other aunties. I believe he is watching over all
of his daughters and wife.
This happened to me while on a bus going through southern Utah. I live in
this part of the country, and their is alot a wide open spaces. And alot
of ghost stories. I never thought I would ever encounter a ghost or even
think of seeing one. But this night changed everything. We were on a
deserted strech of road, not a town or person in sight. The lights in the
bus were turned out and is was pitch dark outside. I glanced out of my
window and saw something on the side of the road, in a heart beat it was
gone. I though nothing of it, it was probably a road sign or something. I
shook it of and tried to get some sleep. When I looked out, for a split
second. I saw two people walking down the road. A man and a women hand in
hand. I sat up, quite shook up. But once again I dismissed it as my mind
playing tricks on me. But for the third time I look out, and I saw them
again! Hand in hand walking, I could see them more clearly now, it was an
older coupple. I blinked and they were gone.
This is my story, I dont know if anyone will believe it, but feel free to
put it on your page. Thank you.
Hello! I really enjoy reading the experiences on your page.
In any case....
I have a few stories I would like to share.
I grew up on a farm on the Southern end of Vancouver Island, Canada. For
thousands of years this area has been the home of the West Coast Haida
Indians. One summer afternoon 10 years ago, my father was working with
the tractor behind our barn digging up the soil for some reason or
another, when the sunlight glinted of an object buried in the dirt. My
dad hopped down to investigate and discovered the object was a black
stone spearhead in rather good condition considering it's age.
He brought in the house to show my mother, sister and I and placed it in
a shallow box on top of our side board to protect it from the curious
hands of a 9 and 7 year old. A few days later my mum and I were at home
together alone (I think I was sick)my dad being at work and my sister at
school. Suddenly we heard a crash from the sideboard. The box and
spearhead had fallen off the top self. This was a little odd considering
my father had pushed it a good 4 inches away from the edge. The box and
spearhead have been kept in the cupboard since.
During the Christmas of 1997 my family and I went to Louisiana
to visit friends. When in Louisiana you must go and visit the
plantation houses in the area which we did. First my family went to Oak Alley
plantation house (where they filmed the opening scene on "Interview
with the Vampire") built in 1839. As we followed the tour guide upstairs to
the bedrooms, both my mum and I felt a strong presence in the master
bedroom; not evil nor good but rather sad. Later in the tour we learned
that the upstairs is haunted by the ghost of what appears to be an
unidentified young woman with long brown hair (you can buy a photo of
her in the gift shop). She has been known to move about objects upstairs
but she has never harmed anyone. Sometimes, if you stand on the lawn
outside the bedroom window, you can see her looking out at you.
Anyway, moving on.....
Next we went to Nottoway Plantation house in Baton Rouge. This house was
not quite as old as Oak Alley but much grander. Once again we were
upstairs and I felt there was someone still there as well. The family
that lived there during the Civil War, I believed had 8 children (6
daughters & 2 sons). In the bottom level of the house there are a few
artifacts from the Civil War including a bayonette, bullets and a
Also amoung these items is a picture of the family's 17-year-old son who
fought and died in the Civil War, so it may be his ghost who walks the
halls of the house.
That evening when we were back at our friends house and in bed I was
sure I felt the presence of the young soldier in my bedroom with me. I
didn't feel scared, but protected as if he were watching over me as I slept.
Or perhaps it was the romantic fancies of a 17-year-old girls' mind?
When I was 16 I went to Europe with a program with the school district.
The trip ended in London, England. Although I wasn't around to bear
witness to them, two different groups of people heard different
hauntings; one on the top floor, and one on the very bottom. This hotel
was very old, and most every step would creak. The next night, there was
a knocking on the door, but no creaks. We found no one was there. This
happened two more times that night. We also found a room with an open
door and the television was on; it was on in that there was sound coming
from it, but no picture on the screen. The hall on the top floor would
creak when no one else was around, and sounds would come from inside the
walls. One girl claimed to have seen a figure disappear. Two others said
they saw its face suspended in the air. Different parts of the hotel
would feel cooler than others. On the floor below us, two others claimed
the television would suddenly turn on. I was in this hotel, and though I
didn't witness everything, I did see the empty television room, feel the
cool air, and hear the knockings on the door, and sounds in the hall.
When I was growing up I have had several experiences which led
me to believe the house was haunted.The first, I was about 6 years
old. I was lying in bed just about to fall asleep when I heard what I
thought was laughing. I turned over to tell my sister to be quiet when I
saw a black form floating beside my bed. My sister was sound asleep.
This form had no legs that I could see. It did have a smile on what I call
Its face. The next encounter did not happen until I was 16. I was
coming home late one night and came face to face with this
thing. It was the same thing I saw when I was 6 only this time there was
no smile. After an indescernable amount of time I ran to my room. I
have had several encounters with this thing throughout my teen years and began
calling it Paul Don't ask me why because I dont know
myself. My sister and brothers claim they have never saw it but one
brother says he has had haunting experiences such as things floating in his
room. My mother says she knows the house was haunted but she refused to
give any examples. I know this thing was not harmful because nothing
harmful ever happened. I also came to feel that this thing was protective
of us because I never felt alone or afraid in the house when I was alone.
When ever something was going to happen we were given warning signs such as
popping noises on the stove that we found out had a gas leak and
uneasy feelings using the garbage disposal that checked out to have a bare wire
that an electrician said could have caused a fire. This is my story, hope
it wasnt too long.
My father died in Las Vegas in 1993. The youngest of his five children,
I was the first one to make it out to Vegas for his funeral. (He was
cremated.) I got there on a Wednesday. Thursday morning, one of my
mother's friends came over to our house with some soda and other things
for us. I ran out of the house to help her unload her car. Out of the
corner of my eye, I saw my father standing beside the house. He had his
right hand on his hip and held his left hand in mid-air, as if he were
going to take a puff of a cigarette (ironic, because he died of lung
cancer) or as if he wanted to wave at or beckon to me. It was only a few
seconds, but a whole jumble of thoughts ran through my mind: "He's going
to say something to me! I don't want to hear it!" So I looked away, and
when I looked back, he was gone. I regret not stopping to hear what he
had to say to me. My brother says he chose me to say good-bye to. This
was the first time I've ever seen a ghost. I'm waiting to see my mother,
who died in May 1998. A footnote: When I saw him, I noticed that my
father was wearing his favorite khaki pants and a gold-and-white striped
shirt. That afternoon, I went to my father's office to work on the
program for the memorial service. His boss gave me a picture of my
father. In it, he was wearing that gold-and-white striped shirt.
From the time I was 4, until I was about 16, my grandparents lived in a
house on Cloverdale road that had a poltergeist in it. I lived with them
for the first four years, then moved out with my mother, but even after we
moved I would spend weekends or holidays at my grandparents house. The
happenings were noticed by everyone in the family, my grandfather was the
only one who never said anything was out of the ordinary. He's a staunch
man of God and kept pictures of Jesus around, and he prayed daily, to bless
our house, and everyone in it.
The house had a sunroom that was added on the second floor, over the front
porch, this became my room. The wall between my bedroom and the master
bedroom (where my mother slept) was brick, and had two small windows on
either side of the door. I had to walk through her room to get to the
upstairs hall, where there was a door leading to the middle room (always
dark, because the only window was 2 feet from the house next door), and the
back of the upstairs had a small kitchen over top of the one on the first
floor, and a bathroom at the very back over top of my grandparents room on
the first floor. The downstairs had a living/dining combination that was
curtained off, the front room was a bedroom, the middle the dining room,
and stairs to the basement went down at the doorway to the kitchen, (beyond
was my grandparents room, as I mentioned).
My grandparents, my mother, my aunts and myself all lived there at once.
My aunts were teenagers, and experimenting with the occult and spirit
invocations- I really think this had a lot to do with everything. At their
age, they couldn't have understood the consequences of what they were
You could clearly hear footsteps in the middle bedroom, even during the
day, and then find out later that my aunt wasn't home. So many things got
moved around in Susan's middle room, that she put a lock on her door. But
it wasn't any of us. We heard walking, someone laying down heavily on the
bed, drawers opening and closing, the closet opening and closing- not loud
or frightening, just the normal noises Susan would have made if she was
there. Many times, when I was very young, I'd scamper up the stairs,
convinced she was there, and wanting to play with her, and when I got there
the door would be locked and noone would answer me when I knocked. Once I
even saw that the light was on in her room, it was shining around the door.
I called to her, and tried to open it, but it went out and the noises
stopped, my scalp would tingle with fear, and I'd run crying to my
grandmother and tell her what happened.
Once, when I was about 5 or 6, I got up to go to the bathroom in the middle
of the night, my room was awash with streetlamp light, but my mothers (with
no other windows) was very dark, I had to go slowly even though I was dying
to goto the bathroom, because I didn't want to crash into something and wake her up.
When I got there, I was just flushing and was suddenly possessed (no pun
intended) with the most abject horror for no apparent reason, I screamed
and screamed and screamed, I ran all the way from the bathroom past my
mother who was struggling to get up, into my room and under my blankets, I
was trembling and pale and shaking. It woke up the whole house, and it
took me hours to calm down and sleep, with the light on. I never knew what
had set me off, just blind panic.
Our pots and pans could be heard falling out of the cupboards, and when
you'd go check, everything would be in place, except maybe one thing, and
that would turn up days or weeks later. My mother saw a "black shadow
about 2-3 feet high", at the foot of her bed when she'd wake up in the
middle of the night. One day it waited until she was awake, then slowly,
deliberately came around the side of the bed and advanced towards her head,
she prayed fervently while it just stayed there, then mysteriously it faded
away. But it would always come back another night. She was the only one
who saw anything. The rest of us just heard disturbances.
I was playing with my toys one sunny day, in my room, I was about 7 at the
time. I picked up a bunting-bag (sort of like a baby sleeper but like a
gown sewed closed at the bottom instead of two legs, and also the ends of
the sleeve are sewn closed, and it had a hood). It was made of flannel,
and had flowers on it. I loved putting my baby dolls in it, it fit the
ones that were about 12" high. I had a doll prepared to put in it, and
reached for the flannel bag on the floor next to me, then I shrieked and
jumped up, flinging it away from me. I could feel there was something
(felt like a garter snake, or two) writhing inside of it, and making a
buzzing noise like the world's biggest housefly or bee. I stared at it in
horror as it lay on the floor, and the writhing could be seen. Then the
noise died down, and as it did so, the shapes quit squirming, and went
flat. I was screaming for help. My mother and aunt came upstairs, and I
told them what happened. I was sobbing so hard they could barely
understand me. They picked it up (even though I screamed and begged them
not to) and looked inside, there was nothing. The only way out, if
something was in there was through the neckhole and it was laying face up a
couple of feet from me, and I had not taken my eyes off it for anything.
They searched the room and found nothing. They said I imagined it, and
took me downstairs to have juice to drink. I swear I never played with it
ever again. I put that thing in the bottom of a box and left a pile of
heavy toys on top of it.
The house still stands, and when we all left none of those things ever
followed us, I wonder what else has happened there, over the last twenty
By: name withheld by request
The story I am about to relay was told to me by a very reliable friend
during my years in college. I had no reason to question the
authenticity of his story since I knew him to be a very "level headed"
man and was not given to "ghosts and goblin stories".
It appears that his grandfather lived in an old home out in the lonely
countryside of North Carolina during the 30's and 40's. He was a farmer
by trade and a very religious man. He lived there some years alone, his
wife having died of an unusual sickness. I had occasion to visit the
area myself and if you go to this area of North Carolina today you will
still find many cousins and aunts and uncles living very near one
another. It was the same way during his grandfathers time where he
lived very near to his son (my friends father). In fact the homes were
only 2 miles apart and connected via a dark path that wound through a
gloomy forest through which the relatives often traveled on visits back
and forth. It was always the goal to leave well before sunset. Lamp oil
was a precious commodity before and during the war years (W.W.II) and
one could not waste it on long trips in the dark.
On this particular occasion, my friends grandfather went to visit the
relatives on the other side of the forest. It was Thanksgiving time and
the trees had shed most of their leaves going into winter and there was
a chill in the air. The family had a joyous time together feasting on
turkey and all the trimmings. Grandfather was deeply engrossed in the
family time and no one noticed the sun starting to dip low on the
horizon - in fact too low for the safe journey back through the forest.
Even though members of the family pleaded with him to stay the night,
grandfather shrugged them off, "I have to start out early tomorrow
morning for town, my house is closer, I'll be alright." He departed
just as the sun disappeared behind the horizon and everything was bathed
in the misty light of twilight.
As I said before, Grandfather was a very religious man and wasn't in the
least bit intimidated by ghosts and ghouls. So the trek back through
the forest, although very dark without a lamp, didn't even cross his
mind as being risky. It was a waning moon that evening and cloudy, so
there was very little light, and under the eaves of the forest it was
even darker. He told his grandson later that even though he knew the
trail well he found himself thrashing around in underbrush on several
occasions. He even miscalculated the stream that crossed the path
around halfway through the forest and got his feet soaking wet. It had
rained the night before so the trail itself was muddy and his feet
started getting heavy from the mud. It was at about this point in the
trail that he "felt" something. As if something were following him.
Never having been on the trail after dark he explained it away as his
"imagination". Perhaps another 50 yards down the dark trail (as he
recalled) he heard something behind him splash through the creek he had
just crossed only moments before. "I didn't know what to think of that,
maybe a deer or something that was spooked back down the trail by his
passing", he later told his grandson. It sounded like it was in a big
hurry whatever it was. Perhaps it was the uncertainty derived from the
extreme darkness, maybe it WAS his imagination, but when he heard a twig
snap no more than 20 yards behind him only seconds later, he new it was
time to make tracks.
His grandfather was in his early forties at the time and was in
excellent physical condition (like many farmers from years of working
with their hands). From his estimation he was only a half mile from
home when he had started running (more of a jog than anything - as he
recalled). The mud made it tricky work and his feet were pretty heavy
with the thickness of mud clinging to them. But when he broke from the
trees and saw the shadow of the house around 100 yards away, he *heard*
what ever it was behind him give out a guttural growl as if it were
exerting itself by pouring on the steam for the final stretch.
That was his queue to let loose with a full out run for his life - mud
or no mud. He didn't look back, but heard the beastly thing behind him
chugging for air and crashing through the underbrush as it too broke
into the open. He then thought it might be a cougar or panther because
of the snarl, he didn't turn around to find out! He made for the back
door that was unlocked and at full speed, dove through the door. The
door crashed open at the force of his huge frame. He promptly slammed
it shut with his foot and quickly locked it. No sooner had he gotten to
his feet and backed away from the door (perhaps 3 second time lapse)
when "something" hit the door - the force of which shook the house. The
center of the door bowed in and he heard the hinges creak under the
stress, but thankfully (as he was to recall later) it held solid. He
quickly reached for his shotgun and like many hearty folk of his era,
leapt at the window just next to the door and aimed his shotgun out
at... NOTHING! There was nothing there.
Immediately he went around the house to make sure all the doors and
windows were locked (of course they were all wide open). But nothing
got in that he could find. It didn't rain that night so the next
morning, before he went to town, he went to check out the tracks of the
great beast that chased him. To his surprise, and dismay, he found
none. Nothing to verify his story - that he didn't imagine it. Only
his word (which was significant since he grew up in an era where a mans
word really WAS his bond). He rarely told the story because he just
figured it was a panther or maybe a bear. He did find it strange that
between the time it took him to grab his shotgun and get to the window
was less than a second and there was nothing there. He couldn't see
anything racing off back toward the forest in the decreasing light.
What about footprints? Certainly something that knocks down trees and
crashes into doors with such force should leave tracks.
To this day it remains unexplained.
I live in Spartanburg, SC I live fairly close to the Cowpens Battlefield
area. I am going to tell you about one of the times I went there. A couple of
weeks ago I visited the battlefield for a picnic. It was weird from the start
because I swear I could no longer find the visitor's center. The asphalt roads
had been replaced with dirt roads. In the clearing where concerts are held was
all covered with trees and bushes. When I finally found my way to the area
where the big Calvary battle was fought I began to feel an eerie presence like
I was being watched. I turned around to find a bush shaking furiously. From
the bush a big flash quickly followed by the sound of a loud bang erupted. I
quickly turned to see who or what was shooting at. In the clearing a good 50
yards away a blue Calvary rider surely American stood with a traditional 17th
century revolutionary uniform on. And before my eyes he vanished into thin
air. I have not been back since.
I have experienced hauntings in almost every place I've ever lived in.
(That's probably because my mother never sees ghosts, but loves
The first house I grew up in, was a single-level 2-bedroom with a
basement. When you passed inside the front door, you came upon a
hallway with 4 doors -- first my parents' bedroom door, then the
bathroom door, then the basement door, then the door to the bedroom that
I shared with my brother.
When I was little I was always the first one awake. (How I wish I had
that kind of energy now!) I would walk into the hallway to go to the
bathroom. Once, I saw a carved wooden chair with big wheels, one on
each side, sitting right outside my parents' bedroom. Normally, I would
have lost no time in climbing all over this new piece of furniture, but
this one, for no apparent reason, made the hair stand up on the back of
my neck. I ran back into my room and slammed the door.
Later that day, I asked my father to please get rid of the big wooden
chair in the hallway. Thinking I was playing a game, he said there
weren't any chairs in the hallway but if he ever saw one, he'd be sure
to move it. I didn't see the chair again for almost 6 years. When I
saw it the next time, it was sitting in the exact same place as before.
I was older now and wasn't quite so afraid, so I came closer. The chair
was battered and scarred this time. Part of the back corner had been
broken off, and the seat was yellowed. It smelled like very old, musty
leather. I still couldn't bring myself to actually touch the chair, but
I managed to go to the bathroom, anyway. While I was brushing my teeth,
I heard a metallic crash in the basement. I figured my dad was
downstairs trying to fix the furnace again (it was October, after all),
but that was odd, since I hadn't heard him go down there -- but maybe he
was up before me. When I came back out, the chair was gone.
I went to the refrigerator and poured myself some juice. My mother came
into the kitchen in her nightrobe, and I asked her if Dad had gotten the
furnace fixed yet. She said no, but he'd probably try again once he got
out of bed. I said he's already up, I heard him in the basement. She
told me, "You mean that loud noise? I heard it too, it woke me up.
Your dad's still in bed. Go downstairs, maybe a stray got into the
basement last night." and I went.
The basement was very cold, colder than usual even for an October
morning. I searched the entire area (not too difficult since it was
just a big, concrete floor -- not much on it except for shelves of
canned goods), but I didn't find any signs of an animal being there: no
droppings, claw marks, paw prints, or jars of food broken. There was no
animal smell, either. I thought for a moment. The crash I heard was
too loud to be just any animal, unless something had been knocked over,
and everything appeared to be in its usual place.
That wasn't the first time we had heard strange noises coming from the
basement, either. They normally happened around winter or late fall,
and the noises always sounded like metal clanking -- like someone
banging a shovel against a wall. The sounds would come at night or
early morning, and one week they got so bad that we all had to move into
the living room just to get some sleep!
I didn't put two and two together until many years later, when I was a
teenager. Mother finally told me the story of how they had bought the
house. It had been cheap to buy because a man had fallen to his death
down the basement stairs a few months prior to Dad buying the place.
The man was fairly wealthy, and had the house built (one story high) to
his accomodate his special needs -- because he was in a wheelchair.
I told my mother about the chair I had seen in the hallway twice before
("chair with wheels": I was too little to have seen a wheelchair) and
she told me what our next-door neighbor had told her: that when the man
had died, he was sitting in the hallway while his nurse ran a bath for
him, and the basement door opened (or had been left open -- who knows?).
The man was a miser, according to neighbors, and probably didn't want a
draft coming into the house, so he wheeled himself over to shut the
door. One of the wheels accidentally went over the edge, somehow, and
the poor guy fell down the stairs and split his head open. (There were
still bloodstains at the bottom of the stairway! My brother and I had
always just assumed it was old red paint!) The nurse called out for him
to come and take his bath, and heard him flailing around downstairs,
trying to get back into his chair.
Mom and Dad never told me or my brother. I guess they didn't want us to
grow up nervous or jittery. The ghost (if that's what it was) was never
really mean. I guess he just wanted his wheelchair back.
Hello! I would like to tell you of a strange thing that happened to me.
It started with a dream that would not leave me alone. It was about a
house that was important to me for some reason. I dreamt of it over and
over seeing all of its different owners as they moved in and changed the
houses layout. Parties they had and everyday things that were done
there. One early owner was an older female that did not like me being
there. I wondered about this house for years until I moved to my recent
address and ran across the house on a drive. I was angry because they
had moved "my garden" and replaced it with a pool! I was surprised by
this feeling! Why did I feel angry about that? I decided to talk with
the recent owners and tell them of the remodeling I had seen and about
the baby that was lost in the home early on. The owner was astonished
that everything I said was true and explaned to me the house was
haunted! I was surprised at this and wondered who was haunting this
place. Could it have been me ? Was I haunting them while I was deaming?
Can this happen? Why was I drawn to this house? I assure you I had never
visited the house in real time and am in awe as to what secret this
house holds for me. Could I be the woman who died in childbirth in this
house over 100 yrs ago? Also, the woman who I spoke of earlier who did
not want me in the house, she turned out to be the original owners
second wife. The first died in childbirth.
Please write back with any insight you might have on this subject. I
have not dreamt of the house since finding it. Thank you.
I don't think I need any help now , I sure wish
the help would have been there in 1974, we didn't know where to turn at
the time. I thought you might be interested in what happened to us.
The couple who rented the apt. to my daughter
were 80 plus yrs old. We told them about the lights going out at
different times and they couldn't figure it out. So we never told them
any thing else.
One time my 2 daughters and my 2 yr old grandson were sitting on the
floor and way back in the kitchen they suddenly started to hear a
strange sound. And my grandson said Tiger
Mommy Tiger. It was a growling sound. My Grandson was scared and jumped
up and made a bee line for the stairs. Then my daughters also jumped up
and they left the house for the night .
Every other day or so they would here pots and pans falling out of the
cupboards , but when they would go look nothing was out of order.
It was a very nice apt. very clean and pleasant looking.
It was getting close to xmas and she decided to move. She couldn't take
it any more. Too scary. So I would go over in the day time and thinking
nothing scary would happen then in day light,
I went over to pack some things up while she was at class. I started to
grab some things off the shelf but I had a funny feeling that I didn't
want to reach in the closed. And all of a sudden it sounded like a 100
footsteps in there, walking.
So I ran out of there an quick as I could and
refused to go back there by myself.
From then on we would go over at least 2 of us.
at a time. Then one of the last times I went over
I was standing waiting for my grandson to finish in the bathroom , and I
was afraid to stand with
my back to the hall for some reason . I kept thinking someone was going
to touch me .
Sure enough I turned to ask my grandson if he was finished yet , and it
felt like someones hand touched me on my left arm . I grabbed my
grandson and ran to the front room with my family and told them what
happened. So after that we pretty much stayed together and worked to get
her move out of there.
A friend of my daughters knew the couple who lived in that apt. before
her. and they got in touch with the woman and told her what hapened
there. She wanted to meet with my daughter because she had some scary
things happen to her..
Her husband had drowned in the Maumee River in Toledo Ohio. under
suspicious circumstances. the police were never able to prove it , but
thought he might have been murdered.
So his wife had a seance in the apt. where they lived. And she said she
brought him there and he told her he was murdered.She had a big
insurance on him that he had taken out on himself. and when she went
home from work at night her house would be all messed up with
things tossed all around. She had to move away couldn't take it .
Over these past 24 yrs. we've had strange things happen. Spiritual
Seems to have settled down now.
But I thought you would be interested to hear our story . And all that
I've have told you is true. There are no lies here. Let me know what you
think. It's comforting to have someone to tell this stuff to . A lot of
people think your nuts when you mention these things. So we pretty much
keep it to ourselves. I'm interested to hear what you have to say about
I think my house is haunted. I was really terrified, but after a year I'm used
to it, for example me and my boyfriend have heard footsteps up and down the
hall outside our bedroom. Sometimes it sounds like someone is checking the doors
and windows, and one night me and my boyfriend had a fight and I went to go stay
at a friend's house. When my boyfriend came home, he sat on the sofa and started
dozing off. When all of a sudden there was a series of loud banging up and down
the hall like someone was angry. He jumped up and came ran out the door and came
to my friends to ask me to come home. Another strange time my boyfriend came home
for a few hours to take a nap. He called me at work, I was about 45 minutes away, we
talked for a few minutes. After we hung up he went into the bedroom to lay down
when again all of a sudden it sounded like someone was putting dishes away and
moving around. So my boyfriend says he thought to himself "oh, Ivy's home" after
about a minute he realized it could not have been me because he just got off the
phone with me and I was 45 minutes away. Alot of unexplained things have happened.
Sometimes when we've been in the house alone and sworn that we're not alone even
when we are alone. Iit feels like someone is watching us. We've been together in the
house and feel like we are being watched. I don't feel afraid anymore but now we are
moving out of this apartment and it may sound even stranger but you can almost
feel a sad feeling like whatever is with us knows we are going and is sad. But I
find myself feeling sad too. I hope it likes who moves in.
I've had strange things happen to me for most of my
life. Unexplainable things.... but the the strangest things happened at my
last home. We built our home on a property that had a suicide committed on
it. We often heard loud bangs and crashes that had no explanations. The
doorbell would ring and no one would be there (we had 40 acres and it would have
been impossible for anyone to be playing jokes on us), water faucets would turn
off and on, off and on, strong cologne smells that would wake me in the middle
of the night (my husband would still be at work and no, I wasn't having an
affair) people talking and laughing in our bedroom, only we couldn't see them,
light switches turning off by themselves, loud, heavy footsteps coming into my
room, stopping and then leaving, plants and lamps being turned upside
down. My mother and her dog would come for a visit. Mom would feel a real
presence in her room and the dog would stand at the foot of the stairs, barking
madly. I left the home 5 years ago and it doesn't seem like whatever was
there followed ... thank the the Lord.
I'm not sure why, but both my cousin Jessie and I, who now own a house
together, seem to be overwhelmed by ghostly happenings. Several months
after her father's death, she witnessed a bright light materialize in a
rocking chair in her home back in Ontario, and, as the chair began to rock
steadily, she smelled her dad's favorite aftershave wafting through the
room; about the same time, my whole family was rocked by the nightly
sing-song of Neil Diamond's "Song Sung Blue" upstairs in the kitchen while
we stared nervously up the stairs, both fascinated and frightened on
hearing the voice of my late brother, a mildly retarded young man who had
died of nephritis years before. Once Alan decided to stop serenading, our
old dog died... but we continued to hear the slow "pit-a-pat" of her
footsteps up the stairs every day until my parents sold the house and moved
away. Later, by peculiar chance, my art consultant lived in the house.
The dog, apparently, was still there too.
About six years ago, Jess and I (at that point unaware that we were first
cousins!) moved into an ancient and rickety house downtown here in Calgary.
Three days later, as I hung up clothes in the deep closet in my room, a
cheerful voice, that of an elderly man, from BEHIND the barrier of
clothing, said, "Hello." That guy said hello to me every morning until we
moved out-- from down the stairs, in the foyer as I came inside, everywhere
and anywhere... except down in the basement. Down there was something we
called the Lump; I don't know what the Lump was, but I had the impression
it might have been a severely disturbed or retarded adolescent that had
been kept locked in the canning kitchen down in that hellhole of a lower
level. His presence was overwhelming, even stifling: our roommate, Gloria,
wouldn't even go downstairs, and, if she needed anything from the boxes
that we all kept stored down there, she insisted we go fetch it. Still, if
she wouldn't visit the Lump, it would visit her. More than once the
sliding door of her bedroom on the main floor was pushed open, and she
would sense someone looking at her, checking on her. She blamed us.
Funny... our bedrooms were upstairs... and she was really too much of a
bi**h to bother visiting in the middle of the night.
Jessie also saw a white poodle run down the upstairs hallway a few times.
Right now, in our new house, things move about and disappear, sometimes
for a week or more. They always reappear clean and dusted. Hopefully,
that's the extent of this poltergeist-type activity... and if they move my
keyboard or monitor, I think I'll consult an exorcist.
All true, and thanks for listening