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Nightmares Commence
The Spirit Of The Shape-shifting Old Hag
This House no longer stands but some of the remains are still stashed outside a building next door. Why? I don't know. My mom, her brothers Albert, twin brothers Benny and Jimmy, another set of twins Fay and Jesse and baby brother John grew up in this house. It was not a big house but the rooms were.
There was the back room that I was told to never go into alone when I was small. I Grew up hearing about the OLD LADY. I was somewhat scared to stay with granny and grandpa most of the time in that house but had to many times. My uncles Jimmy and Benny along with mom and Albert moved out on their own soon after they moved there. Mom though, lived nearby in this town so we were there often. Mom seen this entity usually when something bad was about to happen. Granny seen her a lot. But my uncle Jessie seen her once and that was enough.
He wasn't too big. He was in the bathroom getting ready for bed when he looked around the bathroom, there she was standing in the bathtub. Screaming, he ran out. My aunt Fay saw her a few times. But poor mom had the worst experiences. SO MANY. Grandpa really thought they were all making it up till one night he awoke and couldn't move. There floating above his head was the woman. After mom had me, she started working and I would stay with my grandma.
I was also very close to my aunt Fay. First encounter spending the night with granny I heard a knock on the back bedroom window and there in the window was a hand. Second encounter I was sick, stayed with granny during the day when I got there I started looking for Fay. Granny told me she left but I wanted to be sure, started searching the house, I got to the back bedroom door started inside. Granny grabbed me but not quickly enough. There on the bed what I thought was Fay was the old lady, this gives me the creeps and makes me nervous.
This thing looked up from the bed when I walked in and called my aunts name and it smiled. I CAN only say now that Regan from the exorcist comes to mind now when I remember what I seen. She looked up, her head sort of twisted and she smiled. Granny grabbed me and just said. Tina that's not Fay. Another time, and this I don't know if it had to do with the entity or not but. It was summer time, mom was still at home and granny working she was cooking lunch for her brothers and sisters, waiting for grandpa to come home, she heard a knock on the door wondering why grandpa would knock she open the door there stood grandpa with a funny look on his face.
He walked in went straight to the back bedroom not two seconds later the front door opened again and grandpa walks in and enters the kitchen to eat. You know mom never brought up what happened till she told me about it. The last time I seen her I was in junior high. School was out for the day and I was walking with my brother and two friends. Before leaving out of the door to the outside, there stood a woman all dressed in black in the corner. I seen her, David seen her, we asked our friends who she was, they looked at us like we were nuts. There wasn't no one for them to see. We ran out and there she was across the school yard looking at us.
We never knew who she was or what she was but she wasn't nice.
Gina: Texas
The Fondling Ghost
Like my mom, my aunt Fay has had sooo many experiences with ghost.
When I was in my 30's I was staying at a house my aunt Fay had bought. She still owns it but doesn’t live there anymore. Anyway story.
I was staying at Fays and one night after watching The Grapes of Wrath, which is another great movie, I went to bed. I slept with my cousin Shasta, in a huge bed. We lay there talking for a little while. Dozing off, I felt something besides us in the room I thought that Shasta was already asleep. I lay there almost asleep when suddenly, I felt two hands massaging my thighs and moving higher. I lay there thinking Oh god. I then softly said, Shasta, after calling her once, she whispered, something’s on top of you Tina. No kidding, I thought. Fays room was right next door, I could see into her room because her door was open, I seen her get up. She yelled, stop that! I felt these hands go right up both my thighs to a place I’d rather not mention. I can’t explain what I seen in my head but I just seen images of a man who loved a woman so deeply even in death. So maybe he thought I was her. I don’t know. The hands weren’t cold cold but not really warm. The minute Fay yelled stop that, it was over. I didn’t see a thing, it was enough I felt it. But Fay and Shasta saw it. We never knew who touched me that night. I wonder though how far he would have went if no one had stopped it. Oh I couldn’t move while this was going on either. And Fay said all she seen was a black mass moving over me. EWWWWW.
Tina: Abeline Texas
The Ghosts Of Mrytles Plantation
Mom, Kim and Angie went to the Myrtles in May of 2008. Kim says don’t blink your eyes driving through St. Francisville or you will miss it. Anyway, when they got there mom said you were overwhelmed by the trees. Said I would have loved it, I adore trees. They were huge. They checked in, got the keys to the grounds keepers cabin, yes the one Grant and Jason from TAPS, stayed in and the slave shack. Apparently both are over 100 years old. Now Kim and Angie were up most of the night outside Ghost hunting, mom stayed inside the Grounds keepers shack. She said it wasn’t that scary in there. She said at times she felt like she was being watched.
When Kim and Angie came in for the night, Angie went to take a shower. Well suddenly mom and Kim heard her scream. Angie wrapped a towel around her and ran out. Kim thought she had seen something. Even better something threw two pennies at her while she was showering. She still has them. The last thing that happened was right before dawn. It was hot so they kept the front door open. Mom was looking outside talking to the girls, noticed a mist forming on the front porch to the cabin. Her, Angie and Kim watched as this mist tried taking some kinda form then disappeared as fast as it appeared.
I have to go to the Myrtles. You know mom said they took the tour. They have a lot of rooms locked now because of people who don’t respect old things. But she opened the French doors when no one was watching, peeked in and I feel something right now as I tell you this. She said the feeling she got when she opened the door was STAY AWAY! But she looked at, I guess the back entrance where the slaves would go up and downstairs and there was such an old feeling of pain, loss and despair. I picture those stairs and I can feel it. Darn, I have to go there. You know the MOSS'S do not live there anymore, they live in north or South Carolina. Apparently mom and my sisters were told that the hauntings were too much for them so they left to live elsewhere.
Tina: Abeline Texas
The Ghost In The Granny Flat
I moved into a cute little granny flat with my four year old daughter and things seemed normal in the beginning. About a month later I started noticing strange occurrences around the house. I often felt like I was being watched. Sometimes I would hear someone call my name and when I looked around, nobody was ever there.
I placed a picture on the wall, over the dining table, and at least twice a week, the photo would just fall off of the wall for no good reason. I checked the nail in the wall and the picture just to make sure something wasn't loose. Everything was fine. One afternoon as I was washing the dishes I felt something rush by me. I jumped back thinking it was one of my cats but there was nothing there. I looked outside and my cats were in the parking lot lying down.
I went back to washing the dishes when I heard a sound to my left. I looked around and didn't see anything but I felt it. I called out, "What do you want?" A second later the painting came off the wall and crashed to the floor. I guess I got my answer. Now I was mad because I just bought the glass frame and it was broken. I put up a new photo of the Beatles, and from then on, the picture never moved again. I guess the ghost liked the Beatles as much as me.
From then on, many things started happening on a regular basis. My daughter started getting scared and slept with me in my bed all the time. One day as I sat working on my computer, and my daughter was playing outside with her cousins, I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. I got a cold chill and turned around. I told the ghost to stop bothering me while I was working. By now, I was aware that we had a male ghost living with us.
I went back to working and I felt that same hand stroke my hair. Again, I told him to go away while I was working. He left. I had accepted the fact that he was here to stay.
Finally, one cold weekend night while my daughter was staying with her father, I finally came face to face with our ghost.
I was having a visitor over. We got into a terrible fight and he left. He soon returned very drunk. I told him to leave, instead he fell asleep on my living-room floor. I locked up the house and went to bed. About ten minutes later I heard the doorknob turning. I sat up in bed and yelled out for my friend to go away. I thought he was trying to come in my room.
The door opened and there stood a man with long hair. The bathroom night light was on behind him so he was a silhouette. He was medium height and a bit muscular. He just stared at me. Because it was so dark, I couldn't see his face.
I thought it was my friend for a second and so I yelled at him to get out. He turned and walked to the other side of my bed. I thought, the nerve of this guy. He then fell on the floor with a loud thump. I got out of bed, turned on the light and ran over to the side of the bed to kick him. When I reached that side of the bed, it was empty. There was nobody there.
I just stood there staring at an empty floor. A minute later I ran out to living room and saw my friend asleep and snoring like a pig. I knew I had finally seen my ghost.
I started investigating my house. My neighbor told me that the house used to be a Meth lab and that a long history of bad people had come in and out of there. One of the regulars was a biker with long dark hair. He came up one weekend and some shots were heard inside my house. The man never left the property. The owner who lived there rented a backhoe. Late at night he started digging in the yard. The neighbor asked him what he was doing and he told him to mind his own business. The neighbor called the police. They came and told him to stop operating the equipment late at night and that was it.
Soon after, the owner was busted for running a Meth lab and went to prison. The biker was never seen by his friends again. The property was sold twice before I moved in and rented it.
I don't know what will happen to that property. It is pretty run down now and the bank owns it. Maybe one day they will tear down the place and unearth the remains of that poor young man. To this day, I believe he was showing me where the accident happened and how. I think he wanted to tell me that he meant no harm but he was just trying to get some attention. Whatever the case, I have no proof that he is buried there, so I can't do anything about it. But I hope he is found one day so he can have a proper burial. May he rest in peace.
A.J. San Diego
The Ghost Boy And The Dark Figures
Well I was staying alone in our old house. I was cleaning the house and watching over it. When I was in my old room I saw a little boy in the next room so I just blocked it out, and then all the lights in the house started going off and on at the same time. I freaked out and went in the living room and sat down. The refrigerator door started opening and closing and the blinds where swaying back and forth. So I sat down and called my sister to help me calm down and when I looked back, there where 2 taller older black figures in the sliding door way, and the little boy was standing behind me with his hand on my shoulder; and I could not get up. Finally when I could, the door would not open so I had to use all my strength to open it. So when I went outside I could see the little boy and the 2 taller figures standing at the window. All I could see was the black figures and the red eyes and I started to cry because all I could feel was sadness and loneliness, and then I left and never looked back.
Garland: Ablilene, Texas
The Ghost Bride
Mike was just married too his first wife. They purchased this house in Baird . The day they moved into the house everything was fine. Mike noticed the old liquor bottles, in the holes in the wall of the house. After his wife had gone to bed, Mike sit in the living room looking at the fireplace and the closet next to it. Both of these areas looked rather strange, so mike opened the closet and noticed that there was a hole in the wall. He took a flashlight and peeked inside the hole. He noticed there were some boxes and papers inside the area where he was looking through.
He got a hammer to make the hole bigger and reached inside for a few of the boxes. He dumped the contents on the floor, some very old dolls, probably from the 1800's fell out on to the floor. He said the dolls looked wicked so he stuck them back into the box and into the closet they went. Then he went to bed. He said he kept on tossing and turning. Just about the time he felt like he could sleep, he turned over, and then he saw her. A figure of a woman wearing a wedding dress, floating besides his sleeping wife. He then figured he was dreaming and went back to sleep.
Next day he and his wife went to the local store / restaurant, whatever it was, and the employee asked Mike if they had just moved into town. Mike gave the information; the man told him that was once his grandparent’s home. He then told Mike, unfortunately, they weren’t able to enjoy it too much because the day their grandparents moved in, it was their wedding day. On their wedding night, they were murdered in THE BEDROOM.
Mike and his wife moved soon after that. Now when mike said he seen a woman floating next to his wife, what scared him was she was wearing a wedding dress. The dolls no one knows whom they belonged to. And the bottles in the holes around the house. Well it was during prohibition, and that’s where the people then hid the liquor, inside holes in the home.
The house is still there.
Tina: Baird, Texas
The Girl And The Hand From The Grave
I have a fascination with cemeteries. Well when I was oh probably 15 not 16, Gar and I went to the cemetery to put flowers on my sister’s grave. Well we walked around the graves till I seen an old grave that was caving in. Dummy me stuck my hand in a hole on the grave. (Whatever you do don’t try this at home, because, I thank god Gar and a friend was with me) because as I did this stupid disrespectful act, God forgive me please, I was joking around and told gar and friend what if something grabbed me. They laughed and walked away. I was just about to pull my hand apart when, someone grabbed my hand, I could feel a hand wrapped around my wrist. I started screaming like the girl I am. Gar and his friend ran to me thinking I was joking. I yelled at them, telling them someone had my hand and wouldn’t let go. They grabbed my hand, pulled, but it wouldn’t let go; it was a tug of war. Then suddenly whatever it was let go. I smacked my face into the dirt. It was over and I was scared to death. I swear this happened and I know myself, that it was a hand that grabbed my wrist. And what I did, I guess I deserved it for being disrespectful.
Tina: Abeline Texas
The Pursuing Ghost At The Cemetery
I spend a lot of time in cemeteries taking photos and using my impressions as a way to capture the spiritual. One day I decided to go to the grave of a friend while I was there. As I walked through the mass of tombstones, I felt a presence among them. I stopped and stood quietly, feeling what was around me. I couldn't get a very good picture in my head just then so I continued through the tombstones. I made it past all the tombstones and could see the lake in front of me. I began heading toward it when suddenly, I stopped dead in my tracks. I sensed it was a woman following me, and a sadness overwhelmed me. A moment later, I heard what sounded like someone crying. I knew it was not the wind because it was a hot summer day at the cemetery and no breezes. She was crying.
I finally reached my friends grave. As I began talking to my friend, I felt the spirits presence to my left, I knew she was standing very close to me. I spun around and lifted my camera and said, "I know you're there." I snapped a series of photos, said a prayer for her, and left the cemetery. A few days later when I got my photos back from the photo lab, I finally got a chance to see who she was. It was the face of an old woman staring at me with such sad eyes. I felt bad for her because she seemed to roam endlessly in search of something or someone. I guess on that particular day, it happened to be me she was searching for. It's been said that spirits are drawn to certain energies of persons living, and they attach themselves to the ones that give off the right energy. It's only a theory.
T.L.: California
GHOST MOM
For about 4 years I didn’t talk to my mom, in fact, any of my family. For those four years all I heard from my mother-in-law was,"Tina call your mother" "Tina you need to call your mother." Well two years later my mother-in-law passed away. Well I still hadn’t talked to my mother and all I could here was my mother-in-laws voice in my head. Anyway about 3 months after her death, I went into the video store looking for a video. I seen this video called GHOST MOM, I grabbed it, it looked interesting and I rented it. Well after watching the video I finally got a hold of my mom, it was great. Well a few days later I went to get the video again. I seen there were more and they were moved to a different spot. I was getting one when I told the guy it was a great movie. He said, you couldn’t have seen this, it just came out. I told him I seen it last week. He said no it just came out on the shelf. The weird thing about it is. WHEN I got the video it was a week b-4 it came out and it sat on a shelf alone. BOO!!
D.L: Texas
Real Ghostly Visitation in a Dream
When I was 8 years old I had a dream. I was in the apartment my mom, brother and I lived in. It was dark, but it was that blue colored movie dark, where you can still see. I was walking around looking for my mom and brother. Following me was a little boy, probably around 2-3 years old. I asked him where my mom and brother was, but he didn't say anything. When I woke up, I mentioned the dream to my mom, and explained what the little boy looked like. My mom got upset, and went into her bedroom. When she came back out, she had a picture with her. It was the little boy who was in my dream. She told me it was her brother who had died when he was 3. I didn't even know he existed.
Luke: Torrington, Connecticut
Back In Time
I found my Mother dead when I was 12 years old.
My Sister came into my room one morning crying, saying, "Momma`s not breathing".
This story is long and arduous, but this is my experience.
I was living with my Uncle Robert, my Father`s brother, after he (my Father) died when I was 23. Playing in the band and recording kept my hours late, I value sleep, and I always dream HEAVILY and REALISTICALLY.
This particular night, I fell asleep and as usual began another journey into dreamland. My dream started with me standing in front of the house I grew up in, a place I visit every night in my dreams. For that reason I didn't think much of being there, so I decided to walk the long red brick porch and ring the doorbell. My Mother answered the door with me as a child clinging to her leg.
I told her, "Momma, I am from the future. I am asleep at Uncle Robert`s house, but I came to tell you how much I miss you, and how much I love you. I never had a chance to speak with you as an adult, and I think about you every day. You live inside of me, and with my children, I believe I have corrected all the chaos and drama of my childhood. I will never let you truly die, because through me, and now through my children and my children`s children, you will always be remembered and cherished."
She told me, "I already know that Jamie, and I am with you always". Things started spinning, it reminded me of old Batman Television episodes when I was a kid, the Bat Logo spinning in between scenes. :) And when it stopped, I was standing in front of the home my Father bought a few years after my Mom died. He felt guilty for the wrongs he had done, and being in the home I grew up in haunted him, so we moved I thought to myself in my dream, "I might as well go up to the door and ring this doorbell, it seemed like the night`s theme.
I did so, and the woman my Father married, a much younger EVIL woman, answered the door. I just pushed her aside and went directly to my Father`s office where he would prepare his sermons, he being a Pastor. I walked in the room and told him, " I am from the future. I am asleep at Uncle Robert`s house, and I came here to tell you I forgive you for what happened when I was a kid. I can forgive you, but I will never FORGET. After you die, this woman you married will be the ultimate thorn in my Sister and my side. I will have to battle her in court, because all she was after was your money. The church and those people who worshipped you have completely forsaken us, and she destroyed all your paper work, wills, and documents you kept in your safe.
Don't worry Daddy, I have thoroughly punished her in court, she will get nothing. My Mother trained me well to deal with these kind of people, and I am James Lee Richard II, the refined version of yourself. She cannot handle me, but you can believe I have handled her. I do love you, and I miss you. Even though I was 23 when you died, I didn't have the maturity or wisdom to communicate with you. So I`m here to tell you these things I didn't have a chance to tell you when you were alive. It`s been Hades since you died, but I have integrity, honor and discipline, it`s my inherence".
My Father looked at me and told me, "I`m sorry boy, I will fix it, always know your Daddy loves you".
Then I woke up. I immediately called my Sister to tell her what I had dreamed about, but when I called the phone did the, "I`m sorry, the number you are trying to reach is disconnectied." Then I woke up? I was dazed and confused, because I thought I had awaken the first time. So I went out on the deck, pinched myself, jumped around a little to make sure I was awake. I went upstairs and told Uncle Robert the whole thing. He blamed it on being out too late at night, and too much philandering.
We tried to call my Sister again, but the message was repeated, disconnected? The next day, I did reach my Sister, and she said she had been receiving prank phone calls, so she had the phone company leave that message? A few years later, I was at the home of a very close family friend. She was a member of my Dad`s church since the 40`s, she was very close to my Mom, we called her "Aunt Alma".
The evil wife had attempted to sue the church for workman's compensation, stating my Dad was on "church business" when he died. Excuse me, he died on top of a young girl. :) And I was telling Aunt Alma the truth behind his death, and that the church need not dignify her greed. Aunt Alma told me that my Dad was to get a divorce from the evil woman, he had an appointment to see his Attorney the day after he died. He never made it.
She said he had spoken to her about it in detail, and his reasons were that I had told him what "would" happen after he died. He said I came to the house, in his office, and gave him a speech about the events after his death. he told her I was unusually "mature", and that I spoke differently, unlike I had ever spoke to him before? She basically said EVERYTHING I had told him in my dream.
Thing is, I never came to his office and had that conversation. I was so upset with him in the times before his death, I was out of town with my band for MONTHS. I NEVER had a conversation with him with that subject matter.
But in my dream I surely did. Just ask Aunt Alma. I recently saw her, only last month. And grilled her on the whole thing, 25 years later. She not only confirmed it AGAIN, but cried so much we had to restrain her.
True story, VERY true.
James L. Richard II
Ghost In The Apartment
Some people ask me from time to time how I got into the paranornal, how I got going on investigations and hunting ghosts. Well my story on the very first time I seen a ghost was not only shocking to me, it became a hobby I love, and I have been doing ever since. Allow me to tell you about it. It was the summer of 1977, I had just graduated High School and I was thinking of going to U Of U in Salt Lake City. At this point and time in my life I wanted to be a Lawyer and life was good, so I moved to Salt Lake and found an appartment. A few other friends moved up there too and one Saturday night I got a call from Milton, his wife was at work and he wanted me to come over and hangout. So after work I headed over there and we was watching Saturday Night Live, I remember Ringo Starr was guest host. So I got there and opened my first beer and sat down on the couch to watch the show.
Ok, before I go on you need to understand how Milton's appartment was lay'd out. When you walk in the front door you walk behind the couch that is just off to your left, keep going and you walk down the hall to bathroom and bedrooms. It was a cool summer night so the front door was open to let the night air in.
So, like I said, we was watching the show when a man walks in the front door, behind the couch and down the hall. He was wearing a white tee-shirt and blue jeans, sorry I didn't see his shoes, but thats what he had on. I turned my head and watched this guy go down the hall and out of my sight, I looked at Milton and he had seen this guy too. I asked him who it was and he said "I don't know".
We both got up right then and went after this guy, we searched all over and looked in any place where a grown man could hide, but we found nothing. There was no way he could have gotten out of the appartment because if he did, he "had" to come pass us. We was taking about the hell was going on, wondering if we both was losing our marbles because this guy had to still be in the place! When suddenly Milton turned pale in the face and grabs my arm and said.
"My God, the screen door never opened"
Claude: Salt Lake City, Utah
THE LITTLE GHOST BOY CLAIBORNE PARISH
The little lost ghost boy I played with was very elusive and shy. He was nothing like the little girl at all. He would stand in the shadows of the corners of the house, and at first, just peek around at me.
He was the ghost that lived at Aunt Ida's house. The little girl ghost lived at Aunt Agnes' house. So when I was at Aunt Ida's down by the graveyard, it was Calvin, the little boy ghost, that entertained me.
I always believe that the little boy wasn't abducted by gypsies at all. I think someone killed him on purpose or accidentally, or either he just jumped up, and died on his own. I further believe he was buried around their yard, or out in the field. Probably out close to the old pond. I don't know why, but I believe that.
There was some meanness about that place of Aunt Ida's that was different than any other place I ever been. An arrogance. There was a lot residual arrogance there. It's where I heard the mean voice growling about hating God. Even though it was a more modern house built around 1902, it was more haunted than Aunt Agnes' 200 year old house up the hill, and around that curvy road.
I did not feel safe there, and would rather be in the sand box up the hill with Bessie, and her old gray mare.
Aunt Ida's house stunk like funeral flowers to me. I heard tell they used to lay people out in there, too, long ago, in the parlor before burying them, since it was so close to the graveyard.
Mama Bit had a huge family, and look like people just died left and right for a while. But they didn't lay them out in the parlor no more. Still, I could sense that sweetish smell of corpses at Aunt Ida's house. That's what her house smelled like. Sweet. Like a funeral home. A very old Sweet. A sickening sweet sort of combined with the smell of old ladies talcum powder, and cancer. Lilac and lavender. Lysol and washing powder. Cough medicine and toothache drops. That old oil of cloves, smell. At times that would waft by your nose.
They had running water, and even a bathroom in their house. It was old, but at least we ain't had to use no chamber pot like we did up at Aunt Agnes' house. Mama called them "slop jars," those white pots you use the bathroom in, that's got a red rimmed lid. They make a lot of noise, too, if you kick one over.
Aunt Agnes on the hill, still had an old outhouse they used, but not my Mama Bit! Or me! Heck, no! I wasn't going to go out there, and do number 2! No way! I would go at the edge of the woods first in the day time. You was not going to catch me in that stinking outhouse! It might have been why I was subject to getting constipated when we would go up there, because if I didn't go during the day, I just would hold it after dark until my signal went away.
This little ghost boy I was talking about liked me, but he was too shy to get too close. He had real dark hair, and eyes black as coals, and real shiny. I would just walk around, and chase him, and we would giggle, and I would speak to him with my mind, and tell him I liked him. The thing about this little boy was that he cried every doggone time we got ready to leave. God. And there was no one to comfort him. Just him, fallen back into the shadows of that old house! I real emotional and get chills now thinking about it. Even teary eyed remembering him. He would just cry, and I could hear him, but couldn't nobody else. It was so sad. He loved me, and that love stretched out through death, and touched me from another world. It was so strong. I think he was just lonely, and nobody else could see him nor cared about him.
For a long time I was pissed off at God! Why he could let that little soul like Calvin just linger around without no angels or Jesus to embrace him? And cry? And be lonely? Why wasn't he in Heaven like he was suppose to be? It didn't make no sense! Then as I got older, I realized that my stacked genes probably made me see stuff that really wasn't there.
Or was it?
I want to go back up there, and visit again! The house is abandoned now, and last time I was there, it was run down, tore up, and whoever owns the property now had stored hay inside it.
The flowers still all grow in abundance around there, and the big oak tree is still there that I used to swing on. It was a tire swing, and I used to push Calvin in that old swing. Real high too! I was like a hero to him.
Out in the front yard were these big concrete pillars, and also two concrete benches facing each other. It was like a gazebo without a roof, and made of cold, gray concrete. It was beautiful! I used to sit out there on them concrete benches with Calvin, and he would suck his thumb, and we would communicate with each other with our minds from a distance, him in one bench, and me in the other one, us facing each other.
He stared at me all the time like he was amazed at me or something. He would also show me stuff, and help me find interesting, and unusual rocks, and pieces of wood. He would draw things in the sand. Not words, but pictures like a bird, or the sun, or a star, just simple stuff.
One time he took me to a place out by the pond. And he just sat there on top of the dirt. I didn't understand at the time, but sometimes I think it might have been his shallow grave where he had been buried. If we got too far from the house, sometimes I would hear growling, and he would too, and then we would both strike out running back to the house.
I used to love to sit under their house. There was red skinned potatoes under there where it was real cool and sandy. Them people raised a garden, and that's where they stored the potatoes, under the house. It was way high off the ground, and supported by lots of big huge rocks. It was easy to crawl up under the house, and just sit there for long spells.
Calvin would sit with me, drawing stuff in the sand with his finger. He would also draw stuff like runes. Strange designs. They were beautiful!
Calvin always took me to places where there were fruit trees out in the orchard, and there would be ripe plums at certain times of the year, and even apples, green ones that give me the squirts. Certain times of the year he would show me where muscadines were loaded on a wire fence down the path toward the pond.
It was real fun there in the day time. I loved it there in the day time.
But at night ....
Max Perez: Louisiana
The Day of Destiny
Have you ever met an individual who seems to invite the bizarre into their lives? If so, do you find that they are inquisitive about the world in general, and seem to radiate to others that they live in a different sphere, or plane, than the average person you meet on the street? If you have encountered one, or more, of these type personalities, then you should plausibly understand how the story I have to share unfolds.
I classify myself as one of these strange, unique people who seem to live in their own distinct paranormal world. “Yes, my life yields the constant surprise”. Since childhood, I have possessed a psychic & empathic type gift. This ability was totally random, and as a youngster, I had no understandable control over it. Of course, I was rather frightened by the strangeness of knowing, or feeling things, that were future events. Not wishing to appear abnormal, I suppressed my ability during my teenage years. Later as an adult, curiosity gnawed at me to find out why I felt singled out, and why my brain seemed to connect to the spiritual world.
In 1990, I began to seek out, and befriend, other psychics for guidance. These people, similar to me, and who also possessed the gift, became my teachers. They instructed and guided me towards a better understanding of my odd intuitions, and connectiveness to the spirit world. Finally… I’d found a collective group of people who did not feel I was alien.
Besides my psychic gift. I had always had a deep seeded urge to explore my ancestors who are Dutch, Celtic (Scot-Irish) and Native American (Chickasaw & Cherokee). I think this is due in part to the prophetic dreams I have while sleeping. My urge to understand dreams, which are given to me by my deceased ancestors, has encouraged me to work hard to learn about the generations of my family lineage. At present I have traced my paternal family tree back seven generations. This entailed perusing many old archived documents which in turn guided me to old cemetery locations.
How appetizing to my ancestral mystery it was to learn of ancestor names. Equipped with names, I began to roam old cemeteries looking for specific graves. Upon finding the deceased one’s last resting place, I had even learned to etch headstones as a souvenir of my heritage quests. If you aren’t familiar, etching is a mode of preserving an exact copy of the ancestral headstone by using a huge sheet of paper, and either charcoal, dark chalk, crayons, or oil pastels which one rubs across the stone’s face to replicate the pattern and any transcriptions on the headstone. Per my many cemetery adventures, I’d acquired quite a library of family headstone etchings. Initially, when I began it was difficult to locate lost graves; so I learned to use my gift to hone in on vibes. When I am near a family member, my vibrations heighten; and I am drawn to the sought after grave like a magnet. I can pinpoint the exact site with accuracy in a cemetery of which I have never visited prior.
Knowing that information about me might give one an understanding for how I am akin to being a human radio; thus effectually picking up signals to the spirit realm. Signs and signals come to my life now almost on a weekly basis. I just have to be keen enough to discriminate that it is indeed a sign when I receive it.
To continue my story, I opened my e-mail from another distant friend on Halloween morning 2008. She stated that she had a story that someone sent to her in celebration of this holiday, and she felt compelled to share it with me. This is the story which was attached to her message:
The Ghost That Followed Me Home
I have a fascination with genealogy, which is what started all the trouble. My next-door neighbor and I were fellow hobbyists, and we often supported each others search for long-lost ancestors. We would spend hours pouring over stacks of dusty country records, wandering through poison-ivy strewn graveyards, and getting lost on back lanes trying to find the homes of retirees who remembered what our forbearers were like way back when.
On this particular day, we were traveling to a distant graveyard which conveniently happened to contain the graves of ancestors from both of our (completely unrelated) families. Cheyenne's great-great-aunt and her other kin were quite easy to find, but we had to search high and low before we found the tomb of my third-cousin-once-removed, one Samuel Beauregard Smith. I took a rubbing, recorded his information into one of my copious notebooks, and then stood examining the fancy stone for a few moments.
"No expense spared here," I said to Cheyenne.
"Either someone really loved him, or someone was glad to see him go,"
Cheyenne agreed with a grin.
"Do you have any idea which it was?"
"Nope. I just found out about his existence last Friday," I replied.
We packed up our stuff after that, lunched at a quaint little tea house in the vicinity, and then went home. The early evening proceeded normally; at least, it did until I heard the squeak the front door made when it opened. I knew I had shut the door firmly when I came in, and I was pretty sure I'd locked it, but when I went into the hallway, the door was wide open, as if someone had just walked in.
Behind me Soot, my black cat, started to purr. She walked delicately toward the front door and started twining herself around and around, as if she were rubbing against someone's legs in greeting. But there was no one there. My arms broke out in goose bumps, and I hastily shooed Soot away and closed the door. The cat continued to purr and leisurely walked into the living room, as if she were dogging the footsteps of some invisible presence.
In the living room, Terry, my ancient fox terrier, huffed a greeting to a very-empty-looking spot in the middle of the room, thumping his tail a few times before settling back down in his basket to snooze. I hurried away to the kitchen to do something normal - like the supper dishes - and then went right to bed, telling myself I was being over imaginative and silly.
The next morning, some of the cabinets were open, as if someone had been searching through them, looking for breakfast food. Pretending that I must have left them open last night (I hadn't), I closed them, and ignored Soot's purred greeting to someone who just happened to be occupying the empty chair across from mine as I ate some cold cereal and got ready for work. I also pretended not to see the unfolded newspaper on the kitchen table as I grabbed my keys and I absolutely did not see one of the pages start to turn as I walked out the back door.
For almost two weeks, I ignored the invisible person living in the house with me, although he (it felt like a he) drove me crazy, leaving cabinets open, scuffling up the rugs, rearranging the furniture to suit his fancies, and forgetting to turn off lights. But when he started whistling off-key, I'd had enough.
I'd told Cheyenne about my unwanted guest. She'd been reluctant to believe me, until she came over one morning and found someone invisibly reading the newspaper. After that, she gave me the name of a psychic, and I gave the woman a call. Cheyenne wanted to be here when the psychic arrived, but she was called over to her daughter's house to baby sit, and so she missed out on the grand entrance. The psychic was a nice, normal looking brunette who stiffened as soon as she entered the house and said: "Yes, you do have a ghost," before I'd even had a chance to take her coat.
We sat down in the living room, and the psychic quickly made contact with the spirit. And what do you know? It was Samuel Beauregard Smith. Apparently, he'd seen me visiting the graveyard, and decided I reminded him of his first wife, so he'd followed me home.
"I'm flattered," I said carefully, "but it isn't seemly for a widow to be sharing her home with a bachelor such as yourself.
"
As the psychic relayed my message to the ghost, I heard Cheyenne's car pulling into her driveway, and knew she would be over any minute.
"Samuel has agreed to leave the house," the psychic said. I wondered where his spirit usually resided, but decided it would not be appropriate to ask such a personal question. A moment later, a feeling of emptiness filled the room. "Samuel is gone," the psychic told me.
After thanking the psychic and paying her for her services, I escorted her to the front door, just in time to see Cheyenne hurrying up the front walk. The two women nodded to each other as they passed, and then Cheyenne burst into the hallway.
"Was that the psychic? What did she say? And who was the old-fashioned man with the white mustache who came out your front door just as I was pulling into my driveway?"
My mouth dropped open in shock. Closing it, I swallowed and sat down rather abruptly.
"What is it? What did I say?" asked Cheyenne, alarmed by my pallor.
"Nothing," I said, slowly beginning to grin. "You just saw Samuel Beauregard Smith leaving the house at my request."
Now it was Cheyenne's turn to sit abruptly. "Samuel Beauregard Smith?" she asked incredulously. "That third cousin of yours with the fancy tombstone?"
I nodded.
"I just saw his ghost?" she said.
"You just saw his ghost," I confirmed.
For the first time since we'd met, Cheyenne was speechless.
I laughed suddenly and got up. "It will be nice to have my house to myself again," I told her, and went to the kitchen to make us some tea.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~
You might have thought this was an amusing story, just as I did at first, but as I read to its conclusion it actually sent chills down my spine.
I thought back to my own genealogical explorations in cemeteries, and the person who sent me this story had absolutely "NO IDEA" that I pursue this same hobby as the characters in the story.
Second, my Christian name is Cheyenne. As you see my name is not nearly as common as Brittany, Megan, Lisa, Teresa, or Brandy, so I regarded my name appearing as one of the story character with a little tingle of apprehension.
Third, in my paternal family genealogy, I have two separate generations of "Smiths" which as you noticed was the surname of the ghost.
Fourth, this morning at exactly 5:03 a.m. on November 1st, I got up out of my bed, and went to my kitchen for some water. Most people are not aware that in Mexico on this date a celebration is held called “Dia De Los Muertos” which translates as “Day of The Dead”. As I passed by my old antique piano (built in 1926 and given to me by my now deceased grandmother), I heard three bass key notes play by themselves!!!!! I froze in my footsteps, turned towards the piano noticed the digital clock on my microwave---it was 5:04 a.m. Some spirit was trying to get my attention, and I'm still not sure why.
This is the second time in my life that I have had this happen. The last time it happened was just prior to my Dad's death, and that time I also heard three bass notes play by themselves.
My mind hastened to wonder if the shared Halloween story was a message to me from the spirit world that I’d also brought home an ancestral ghost during one of my cemetery visits. After all, it was the Day of the Dead, and as Mexicans believe, the veil between this plane and the spiritual world is the thinnest. They say spirits are said to walk the earth again between November 1st and November 2nd.
What was my physical reaction on that Day of the Dead? Initial shock, and then my heart began to pound nearly right out of my chest. Simultaneously my mind spun backward to think. I took a deep breath just standing there in those frozen footsteps. My mind spiraled. Had there been other signs which I’d missed? Did I have, or perhaps still have, a spirit in my home?
I can not answer this question at present, because to date no more paranormal events have foreshadowed the eerie invisible piano player. Whoever, or whatever, was there did not seem to mean me any harm, but rather to just attain my attention for a few seconds. Perhaps it was one of my ancestors just having a giggle at the look of shock, and the drain of color from my face when the piano played. Eventually, I got my composure to go sit in my kitchen, and to rehash about what had happened. The previous morning's e-mail still resonated in my brain. Coincidence? Will I ever know?
Post this event, I have asked nightly for more signs, or messages. I am still waiting and keenly watching to see if my spirit will reveal itself in yet another occurrence. My biggest desire is to discover the identity of my music loving spook.
Cheyenne: Tennessee U.S.
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