Friday, October 29, 2010

Ghost Stories, Please

I've only had a couple of run-ins with phenomena that could be interpreted as ghostly. One happened so long ago, that the memory is fuzzy at best. It involved a locked room in the home we were renting in Kent when I was three or four. The landlady stored some of her belongings up there, including a huge old sleigh bed. Why she would trust them to remain unharmed in a house with five children in it was beyond me. Well, she had met my father, after all. His solution to every transgression involved either a belt or worse, the silent treatment.

One day, in the long dog days of Summer when you can barely move, the heat is so bad, my sister came down the stairs all breathless and white. She was a sneaky little fucker and had broken into the locked room in the attic. I followed her to the door which she opened to reveal a bunch of boxes and a perfectly ordinary rocking chair. Only it was rocking. And no one was sitting in it. And the windows were closed so no breeze entered the room. The really creepy part was the fact that the floorboards in front of it were creaking, as if someone was sitting there pushing off with their feet. Needless to say, we went shrieking down the stairs. This is why I am the way I am today. Or it could have been the belt. It's a toss-up.

The only other time I remember, other than some freaky shit in a Brownstone in Brooklyn, was when I got an attic door slammed shut in my face by a jealous female ghost. It was in an old house in Medina that had been part of the underground railroad in the 19th century. The building had been converted into the law firm where my ex was not yet partner. They say the lady had wanted to marry someone that her mother did not approve of, so she died a spinster. You know, the usual romantic ideal of the sad gothic chick who can't make it to heaven because her doll got lost or something. Wah. 

She would do the usual light flickering and object moving but I'm pretty sure that I was the first person she actually hated. A guy's gal, she was, just like Camille! So, if you have any stories you'd like to share, I'd love to hear them. Happy Halloween, everybody! 


sheesh said...

God I love Halloween!

I am a very vivid dreamer and I remember most of my dreams even from when I was small. I dream in color, I have felt a cat bite in my dream, I had a dream about a midget once and I had an....ok I'm not going to tell.

I had a dream as an adult about armageddon. Planes were crashing around me, tornadoes were everywhere, people were screaming, babies crying. Terrible.

I ran into an old house and went the basement to find a place to hide. I saw a small door and opened it and went in I guess I was under the house. The door shut behind me and I felt a pair of hands grab me to hold me down.

I freaked and woke up but I still felt the hands on me and I tried to sit up and was shoved back down.
Then I really started to freak.

I was thrashing in my bed and punching the air but I couldn't scream. Finally whatever was holding me down left I was able to sit up.

Jesus I am getting the creeps right now.

I got up, put a tshirt on and checked all of the doors and windows which were locked. Turned on every fucking light I had. I was alone that night and terrified. I made a pot of coffee, called my sister and stayed up all night shaking trying to figure out what just happened.

I am about to jump out of my skin right now!

twunty mcslore said...

Geez, Sheesh. That is terrifying. I'd probably move if that happened to me.

I did have one of those creepy half awake ghost situations once. My friend Billy and I lived in Chelsea and our apartment building looked over a catholic girl's school to the north. I was in that weird state of struggling to open my eyes when I turned and saw a man from probably the 20s or 30s, in overalls standing on my radiator and looking out my bedroom window at the school. The next morning Billy asked me if I had come into his room and caressed his face.

The guy came back a week later, me in the same state struggling to move, and he had an old guy and a freaky ugly schoolmarm looking lady with him. I started sleeping at my boyfriends after that. I hated that place.

shanti said...

I had one of those am I dreaming is it real situations too.

It was shortly after my divorce and I was living alone for the first time in a long time.

Sleeping on my side, I awoke to the touch of someone's hand on my back. Not a slap, but a hand pressed against my back. I had a cat at the time, but he was not there. Eyes wide open but scared to move, I suddenly heard the floors of my 80 yr old house creak in the living room.

Refusing to believe this was real, I went to the LR and clearly heard loud breathing on the other side of the front door. Very heavy breathing. I pressed my ear against the closed door and heard the most evil, classic Hollywood horror bwha ha ha ha laugh.

I was frozen. Did not move for what seemed like an hour. I don't recall how or when I got back to sleep that night. It never happened again, but I can still feel the touch of that hand and hear that evil laugh.

twunty mcslore said...

Oh, God. It's a good thing it's daytime. I totally got the chills.

Another one dream related- In the ninth grade I got really close to the girl that sat next to me in chorus. She and I were also the only two girls in our elective wood/metal shop class that year, bonding us further. She was the opposite of me in looks, dark and doe-like while I was light and wild. We bonded over our similar interests and then one day she dies in a black ice car accident coming home from a weekend ski trip. Her brother was driving.

I found out about it at school the next day, and that night she came to me in my sleep. In the dream, she rang our doorbell, my Dad called me to the door and she told me not to be afraid but that she would visit me soon for a longer period of time.

Sure enough, on the eve of our next recital, she showed up in my dreams again. I was sitting in the folding chair in the gym, waiting to go up to the risers, an empty seat next to me. I feel a tap on my shoulder and turned to see her. She looked the same, only grayer of skin and hollow of cheek. She told me not to be afraid, that she was okay and death wasn't as scary as I thought it was. It was a part of life but I wouldn't have to worry about it for a long time. Geez, I want to cry now thinking about it. It still really affects me.

Fast forward almost two decades and I had moved back home from New York and was managing a dry cleaning establishment when who walks in but her mother. She was the spitting image of her, and still seemed so sad! I SO wanted to tell her my story but I was scared to death to bring it up. The crash had already almost torn their family apart, and it didn't seem like time had healed her very much.

Sometimes I wish I had said something. It's all so sad.

Karen Downie Makley said...

-great great great grandfather watching over the foot of my bed. (you know, the guy in my dining room pictures)

-someone else's ex, who fancied herself to be a gypsy witch, sent some weirdness to my apartment...slamming my doors, rattling my windows (nope, no breezes or wind tunnels here, either)

-i think i dreamed 9/11 before it happened. not making this up. ask senor mcslore.

twunty mcslore said...

I love your dining room, really really do. For some reason it reminds me of the VanGarrett library in Sleepy Hollow.

And I want to hear the gypsy story tomorrow. Please?

And I have Senor McSlore confirmation. Need more info, though. He said you were pretty freaked out.

Robin said...

I have a Love Story/ghost story.

I bought a home and it needed roof work. I worked for a contractor so I asked one of our roofer's to come take a look at it.

He showed up on a Sat with his two brother's. They were going somewhere afterward and because I knew him from work this wasn't a big deal.

When they got to my house I could see that they were very animated and were talking fast to each other as I was coming out of the house. I found out quickly that this was the house that their Mom lived in for many years!

After I was told what the roof would entail I invited them in for a beverage.We were talking about the house and out of the blue, myself and one of the brother's blurted out "This house is haunted", at the same time.

It was true. That house was haunted. Lights would go on 1 min after turning them off. The garage door would open all by itself, and you could hear the patter of steps on the floor even in the middle of the day.My husband is an electrician ..more about that later..

When somebody said "This house is haunted" at the same time I did, somebody that I didn't know who I never told about it, it helped to know I wasn't on the crazy train. Or at least I wasn't the only one on the crazy train. I often want to ask the new owners if the ghost messes with them too. But I would hate to freak out somebody that already has a nervous disposition. You know what I mean?

Oh back to the electrician hubby. Well, He was one of the brother's. He never lived there so his contribution to the ghost situation was repeatedly telling his mother that there was nothing wrong with the electricity.

The four of us ended up going to the beach and the rest is history. :)

Hugzz, Robin

Prodigal Cheez said...

I was really close to my grandmother, and out of all the grandchildren I was her favorite.

She developed Alzheimer's, but her Alzheimer's didn't manifest in not knowing people, just orientation issues.

In 2001 she started to decline physically, and by that summer she was dying. I spent a lot of time with her as she started to let go, at one point I was standing at the end of her bed, by myself, and she almost sat up (not an easy thing in her state) and pointed over my shoulder and asked who the lady was that was standing behind me - for some reason and I don't know why I said, "It's your mother." Her mother died when she was 12. My grandfather had already passed away, and I could feel him there too - he smoked a special tobacco blend in his pipe and I kept getting phantom whiffs of it. I was devastated when she died, although I had a spiritual epiphany of sorts about God and the aftermath of life.

My friend had recently lost her brother to a horrible and protracted battle with AIDS, and when I ran into her she told me about this psychic she spoke to and how much it helped. I wasn't ready for it so I waited a few months - then one day I set up an appointment. I didn't really have any faith in psychics, but I thought I would give it a try - it was someone reputable (and it was expensive).

I was blown away by the things that happened in that session, and I still listen to the tape sometimes. There were crazy things that no one could have possibly known, and I truly believe my grandmother was somehow interfacing with this woman. I've played the tape for some of my most skeptical relatives and they are always totally surprised by how it plays out - it's over an hour long and detailed, and very specific.

Shortly after I spoke with the psychic, my grandmother visited me in a dream and told me she needed to move on and so did I - she told me not to use a psychic again, that it was dangerous and could open dangerous doors spiritually; then she started reciting what I thought was a psalm (she was very religious, but I had never had any religious instruction of any type). I had a really strong feeling it was the 7th Psalm in my dream.

When I woke up I remembered the words and asked my (practicing) Catholic friend if she knew what it was and she said it was the 7th Psalm.

I've had other weird things happen, and three times been around people I don't know very well, and picked up a weird smell and sort of charge in the air, and I know they are dying imminently.

It happened with my stepdaughter's grandmother the first time I met her - I could tell she knew too. I told my stepdaughter she needed to spend time with her grandmother and she thought I was crazy. Her grandmother died 10 days later.

Maybe they're not ghost stories... but I do think ghosts exist.

Harleigh said...

This freaks me out to this day...

I was 10 years old when this happened and I grew up in a residential area of Toledo, Ohio. Behind my house was a woodsy area that had not been developed yet, where all the neighborhood kids played and ran the trails. My girlfriend and I were playing back in the trails when we noticed it had gotten very late (probably 9ish - LOL) and dark & we had to get home before we got in trouble. We both had on white t-shirts and shorts. (This is important later)
The trails were narrow so I began to run in front of her and we were holding hands. We broke our grip & continued to run. I heard her behind me running and breathing the entire time. When we got to the clearing I turned around and she was gone. I yelled and screamed her name but I didn’t get a response and I didn't hear anything. I got really scared so I ran the short distance to my house and told my parents I had lost my friend. They told me to go get her before her mom got mad (they lived 3 houses down) and came over to our house. I was really weirded out and I was very shaky, but I went back out the front of our house and walked down to the front of the field. I yelled her name for about a minute and then I finally saw her running fast, toward me. Well, I saw her figure, wearing the white t-shirt, and I could see her legs moving. I couldn't make out the face. I began running towards her yelling at her for disappearing and scaring me when....I stopped. I could see right through this figure. The figure stopped too. She was about my height; I could make out hair and legs and the white shirt, but nothing else. I was frozen. The figure made one step towards me then turned and ran in the opposite direction. I watched, mesmerized, as she faded away and then disappeared.

Then, I panicked.

I ran screaming to my house crying, convinced, in my child’s mind that something horrible had happened to my friend and she was dead. When I got there, my friend and her mom were there with my parents. She was bawling her eyes out until she saw me. We hugged and cried and cried.

Turns out the exact same thing that I saw, my friend saw. She had thought I was still running in front of her when we first headed home and I disappeared. She also went home and her mom also had told her to go find me. She saw the figure in the white shirt as well. She too, had thought something had happened to me and went back home to tell her mom. Her mom and my parents were getting ready to go look for me when I came home.

Keep in mind; this is a very small area and a residential neighborhood on a cul du sac. I never once saw my friend or heard her yelling for me. Knowing what I know now as an adult, that is impossible.

Same identical story, same white figure, told by 2 girls at the same time to different people.

Needless to say, we never played back in those woods ever again. Not that we were allowed too. Our parents were just as freaked out as we were. I believe, to this day, that was a ghost. Don't know how we got separated or why, but that ghost was with both of us.

I just got chills! I wouldn't go back there now. I just wouldn't!

Sorry so long, Twunt, but I had to tell you! :)

Harleigh said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
twunty mcslore said...

You guys have some creepy stuff in your lives, especially you, Harleigh. Is there anymore to that story? Any girls die in those woods? *shivers*

Harleigh said...

Twunty as far as I know, no girls have ever died back in those woods, and trust me my family and my friend’s family have looked into it.
But (and this is kind of creepy too) there was a playhouse that had been thrown back into the woods where all of us kids played. It was one of those weird things where there was no way this expensive, huge, elaborate playhouse could have just been dumped back there. There were no roads, someone wanted to get rid of it and carried it back there, which could not have been easy.
We all played inside of it (cause it was cool) but nothing good every happened. One girl slipped and fell on 2 rusty nails which stuck in her back and another girl was running & slipped and broke both her arms. (I was there for that incident; she was in double casts for months).
After we talked about this playhouse for awhile (I believe our parents thought we were making it up) my mom and the mother of the girl who broke her arms walked back to see it. When they found out it was real, they did some inquiring.
Turns out the playhouse had belonged to a seven year old girl who had died. Her family had lived on the other side of the woods. The playhouse had been in her backyard but her father and brothers couldn't stand to look at it anymore so they hauled it out to the middle of the woods where she had liked to play. I don't know what she died of.
My thoughts are that maybe that girl was trying to play with me and my friend that evening when we saw the figure. Maybe that's who we saw? After all, her playhouse was back in the woods.
Creepy, creepy. My parents still live in that house, and NO I have never gone back in those woods, as I said before. Although, now that I am thinking of this again I'm wondering if that playhouse is still there!
If I grow some balls, I'll head back there (DURING THE DAY) and post a pic if anyone is interested. I'll be at my parents for Thanksgiving. God help me....

twunty mcslore said...

If you can handle it, please do. Just don't go alone.

tnbelle1123 said...

This happened to me when I was about 13 or 14 at my aunt and uncle's house. They lived on the outskirts of Nashville, kind of in the country, but still considered part of the metro area.

I was spending the night with my cousins and we had stopped at the grocery store on the way to the house. My uncle gave me the house key to unlock the front door and take my bag inside, then come back out and help with the groceries.

I unlocked the front door and flipped on a light. As I stepped into the living room, I sort of bent over and sat my bag down next to the recliner. As I looked up to turn around and leave, I saw a figure stand up from the recliner. I mean I literally saw the man's knees straighten as he stood up and I could make out his profile. He seemed to be wearing a black suit and was older...maybe elderly. I was so caught off guard I said out loud "oh, don't get up" and then I caught myself....

About the same time I realized I was talking out loud to nothing, my uncle came in the house and I turned around. I must have had a stunned look on my face because the first thing he asked me is "who are you talking to?", then "or what did you see?".

Since then, all kinds of weird things happen there. My aunt will find her joorey moved around. My uncle has heard a female talking while my aunt was not home...doors seem to lock/unlock by themselves...

My aunt and uncle both believe the house is haunted. And they still live there.

twunty mcslore said...

It would drive me nuts if I had a ghost that moved my stuff around. I'm forgetful as it is.

Did they ever do research on the house? You can go to the local hall of records and find out who the previous owners were.

tnbelle1123 said...

My aunt looked into the previous owners (the house had been abandoned and sold at auction when the bought it), and really didn't find anything interesting about the people, but the land was a different story.

There is an old family plot cemetary about 300-400 hundred yards from their property line, up on a little hill. At some point in the early 1900s, it had been one big piece of farmland. Eventually, it was sold off piece by piece until there was just the large front and side piece of land, including the little hill. Things get a bit murky in the 30s and the best my aunt could piece together, at some point in the late 30s or early 40s the large piece of land was split off and sold, with the rest of the family moving off the land. The original house is gone, and nothing is left but the little cemetary on the hill.

I think it is the family members coming "home" to visit. They never do anything bad and if my aunt can't find something, she just asks out loud for the item to be returned, and it usually just shows up some where. I've never seen anything since then.

twunty mcslore said...

That's cool. Benevolent ghosts are a good thing, right?

Speaking of farms, the German side of my family owned a sizable one in what is now Cuyahoga Falls. They sold some of the land to developers and some to a family that built a cemetery. Most of my relatives are buried there and those of us that survive joke about "buying back the farm" plot by plot.