Jump to content
SASS Wire Forum

A late Hallowe'en musing...


Recommended Posts

Home alone, on a dark and chilly Hallowe'en night, I am wondering....

 

Have any of y'all ever experienced anything of a "supernatural" nature?  Anything strange... unexplained... perhaps something you may or may not have before shared?  :ph34r:  :rolleyes:

 

 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Not personally. (Many God things...guardian angel things, but no spooky stuff)

 

Now, friends who bought an old Victorian era bedroom set found it was not a good fit for their home.

As soon as the set was in the room, the heat quit working...in that room only.

The wife would walk by the door at various times and find drawers open.

Twice they had guests over...and would find their guest in the living room on the couch or floor, wrapped in blankets. The quests never remembered leaving the bed, much less the room.

They always found the room in dissaray...drawers and closet doors open.

I believe after 2 months, the removed the bedroom set...and the heater started working!

 

Haply Halloween.

  • Like 3
Link to comment
Share on other sites

My best friend's father and grandfather died within five days of one another.

Under Ohio law, each was considered as having preceded the other in death.

Anyway -- after their passing, after the funerals -- I was the right hand that kept their farm going through those dark times and after, and Eleanor (bless her!) adopted me, pretty much ... anyway we were invited over to Adamsville.

Brother Beymer went to OSU with the Reid twins, they had a country band while still in college, and they still got together for an old fashioned Welsh sing.

We went over and that was a most pleasant night.

We came back, I got in my truck to leave, pulled out of their driveway and as I always did, I looked back as Bob and Eleanor were going up the back walk to the house.

Granddad Beymer was sitting on his Deacon's bench, bottom lip pendulous and drooping, his broke brim hat pulled low and his wrinkled old hands folded over his cane, nodding his greeting as they approached.

"That's nice," thought I, "Granddad stayed up to make sure they got home WAIT A MINUTE WE BURIED HIM LAST WEEK I WAS PALLBEARER --

I looked back.

The Deacon's bench was empty.

 

When I was with Glouster PD and also a working medic same village, our paramedic station was in the old depot building, which still stands on the village square, behind the cast iron lollipop clock with a .44 hole through the clock face.

The tale I was told as to how the clock got shot, does not match up with actual records, but like the Irishman said, never let facts get in the way of a good story.

I've mentioned Trimble's marshal being killed -- in my stories, he is Willamina's father -- the character is patterned after the town marshal who was actually killed when he had his cruiser sideways of both lanes, he was standing between his cruiser and the oncoming vehicle: he intended to stop this escaped felon, he had his Victory model Smith & Wesson in hand, he got off one shot before the felon rammed him, crushed his legs ... his wife was lead medic on that squad run, she rode to Columbus with him, he died just before they got to OSU.

Now, back to our Paramedic station in the old depot.

As you came in the kitchen door, you came into the kitchen -- bathroom to your left, if you were on the commode when the freight rumbled past, you rocked a little, and the wall to your right was repaired where a derailed coal car's coupler crushed through it some years before, I understand when it bulged into the latrine, the fellow on the commode had some less than Christian remarks to make -- anyway, come in the front door and turn right.

There's a hallway going into the living room.

Halfway down this hall, on the left, is the bunkroom.

Right in front of the bunkroom is a squeaky board.

Folks commonly came for medical assistance, some just walked in, anytime we heard the door open we looked.

Of an evening you'd hear the door open and you'd look.

Nobody there.

You'd hear the door shut, you'd hear measured footsteps come down the hall ... and across that squeaky board ...

... creeeak ...

... the footsteps would come into our living room, there was a long pause as if someone was looking around, to make sure all was well ...

... then the footsteps would depart, down the hall again ...

... creeeak ...

... you'd hear the door open, you'd hear the door shut, if you were looking, neither portal moved but you could hear it ...

We allowed as that was Ted, stopping in as he'd often done, just to say howdy and make sure all was well with his wife.

Edited by Linn Keller, SASS 27332, BOLD 103
  • Like 3
  • Thanks 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

My wife and I stayed at a Victorian BnB in Asheville, NC several years ago. Around 2:00am we heard an awful clatter as footsteps ran all over the floor in the room above us. 
 

The next morning we were having breakfast with the other guests and I asked who’d enjoyed the late night.  When nobody confessed to being in that room, the host told us that the house did indeed experience such events. 

Edited by Charlie Harley, #14153
  • Like 4
Link to comment
Share on other sites

My house is haunted, probably by the man who built it and who died here.  I've never seen him clearly, always out the corner of my eye.

 

My front porch has steps on the west side and the front door on the east.  there is a railing on both sides of the steps.  If I'm sitting in my chair I can clearly see the door and the steps.

 

On many occasions, always in mid afternoon, I've caught sight of a slender old man walking from the north side to the south.  He's wearing gray pants and a green shirt, and has on a green John Deere baseball cap.  He's in view for maybe three or four seconds.  That's the only place I've seen him.

 

I've never had a good look at his face, but his hair is white and he's bent and shuffling.  I believe he's the man I described above because the old guy was an antique dealer and restored John Deere stuff, especially kids' toys.

 

I believe he's a ghost because he's never come in the door nor gone down the steps and can't leave the porch any other way, and no matter how quick I am I can't see anyone anywhere near when I go rushing out the door to catch him.

 

He doesn't bother me and I've seen no other evidence that he's here.  I think he may be checking up to see that I'm taking care of his house.

 

 

Also, I'm pretty well convinced that my little dog is channeling my late wife.

 

If I fall asleep in that  same chair and wake up, there's nothing unusual, unless I hear my wife's voice saying "Tom, get up and go to bed."  Every time I hear that I wake up and that dog is sitting on the arm of the chair with her tongue out and her tail wagging.

 

I've known people who claimed to have seen ghosts and I always listened to their stories with a measure of doubt, but...............well, you never know.

Edited by Forty Rod SASS 3935
  • Like 2
  • Thanks 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Every year, a professor, at a local college, presented a lecture on Paranormal Psychology. Every year, he would ask the same questions....this year was slightly different.

 

How many of you have felt the presence of ghosts?  Twenty students raise their hands.

 

How many of you have seen ghosts? Twelve raise their hands.

 

How many of you have been touched by ghosts? Four raise their hands.

 

How may of you have had sex with ghosts?. One guy raises his hand.

 

The professor is astonished and tells the student "In the sixteen years that I've taught this course, I've never had a student state that he had sex with ghosts"!!

 

Student says "GHOSTS?    I thought you said goats".

 

 

  • Haha 4
Link to comment
Share on other sites

A couple of nights ago while asleep in bed, I felt an icy cold sensation in my right palm. I sometimes roll onto my back and outstretch my right arm, usually it rests on the nightstand. So I felt this and immediately woke up. At first I thought my wife handed me a bottle of water for me to open for her. I sat up and noticed she was in bed beside me. In my peripheral vision I saw an apparition that appeared like a large whiff of white smoke that moved to the open bedroom door and then vanished. I jumped out of bed to investigate, but found nothing out of order. Kinda spooked me. I dream alot but this was nothing like that.

Our daughter claims her house is haunted. The former owner (wife) died of natural causes in the house. Daughter and grandkids hear things and also occasionally smell smoke from the fireplace, even in the summer. The prior family burned wood in the fireplace, but my daughter converted it to a natrual gas set after they moved in. This occurred mostly in the first couple of years they lived there, not much if any since.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Same here. I used to be constantly opening the door all night long and would go through 3-4 of the huge bags of bulk candy. Last night I saw maybe 30 kids and only went through one bag. That despite the fact that there are a lot more houses built in my neighborhood the past year or two. I think parents are all taking their kids to the malls these days thanks to the weirdos out there.

 

Anyway, my only supernatural experience happened when I was a kid, and I distinctly remember putting my pocketknife in my pocket to go downstairs to the basement to build a cardboard submarine. When I got there the knife was missing from my pocket. I never found it... it literally went *poof* somehow. :(

  • Sad 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

I was The Buggy Mechanic at HoughtonSulky for 25 years. I've had 2 experiences. 1 was a loud noise. The shop foreman was known to throw things and I figgured he had thrown a hammer from the front of the shop. I went and sked him and he said he didn't. It was something fell off the wall that shouldn't have. The other one, we had huge stoker furnaces that were converted to gas. I was told that one of the old guys used to sit backof it and eat his lunch. A couple of times, I walked back to my shop and I saw him sitting there. He was long since deceased. I still have the "Ghost Chair".

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Seen a couple things over the years...

 

One time taking the nighttime "Ghost Walk" at Calico Ghost Town, as we walked up to the old school, I saw something on the roof.  Just a black shape, but it was moving around, moving back and forth from the edge of the roof up to the bell.  It was a very clear moonless night, so the stars were bright and clear.  The shape was blocking the stars when it went high enough on the roof.  There were only 5 of us in the group that were staring up.  The tour guide wandered over to us and said kind of quietly "so, I guess you see our resident roof shadowman".  He said the shadow isn't always there when they are doing the Walks.  When it is, not everybody in the group can see it.  I did.  It wasn't mass hysteria or a planted idea.  He didn't mention it until after we were looking at it.  

Link to comment
Share on other sites

One other time, I was shut in the closet at work.  Well, not really.  There was a project that I needed to finish but was getting interrupted to the point of distraction, so I set up a desk in an old changing room downstairs.  I put a computer down there, locked the door and was able to get this project finished.  I was leaving the lights off, just seeing by the light from my monitor.  I was down there for a couple of weeks.  I was noticing shadows around me sometimes.  But there was a large mirror on one wall, and light did come in under the bottom of the door, so I chalked up the shadows to just reflections.  That is until one of the shadows went between me and my computer monitor!  I froze for a second, said "hello", and went on with my work.  Never happened again.  I've told this to a couple of people here, usually after they mention the downstairs in general or that room and something weird.

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

The good ol' Kappa Phi Delta house was... well, if not haunted, it certainly did seem to have a resident "spirit."   Not so much scary, but definitely a capricious soul. 

 

Most of the fellas who lived in the house as well as non-resident frat guys had passive experiences - we all had heard feetsteps from upstairs (all three levels of upstairs; it was a four-story "Edwardian Mansion") when no one was there, as well as faint voices.

 

And a few of us had more personal interactions.  Including me - I had three of note.

 

The first was about 1971.  Lurch and Bill and I were about to head up to Tahoe for a fun weekend.  Ed (Lurch) had a brand new Ford Pinto, and we all had about forty bucks apiece in our wallets - the equivalent of over $250 in today's dollars.  Gas was cheap, about 35 a gallon, Motel 6 was literally six bucks, and food was almost free in the casinos.  We were set.

 

I'd just come home from work, and Bill and Lurch left to make a dash to the local liquor store while I showered and got ready.  But there was a problem.  When I dressed, I discovered my wallet was missing.  It had been in my trousers pocket; I'd had it out to count my money just before the fellas left.

 

Well... they made the trip without me.  They did donate a few dollars for beer money, which I appreciated; on Monday, I set about replacing my driver's license, school ID, credit card, etc.

 

Two months later, I was vacuuming my room, and decided to move the extra bed to clean the carpet underneath.  But hello - what's this?  An odd lump under the carpet... which, after pulling the carpet up, turned out to be my wallet.  With all contents intact.  Evidently our resident phantom had not wanted to be alone that weekend.

 

The Second was the Saturday before Easter, 1972.  Which also happened to be April 01.

 

Hank and I had just returned home, after an enjoyable afternoon at Pacifica's Sharp Park shooting range.  Pulling up in front of the Kappa Phi Delta house, we noted that no one else was home - everyone was gone to Mom's for the holiday; I had no mom to go home to, and Hank's was too far.

 

We walked up the marble steps, and just as I was shoving my key into the lock, we clearly heard a thump from the other side of the door followed by footsteps running up the stairs.  Burglar!

 

Without hesitation, we threw the door open and gave chase, with the feetsteps always just around the corner on the square spiral staircase. 

 

But when we reached the top of the stairs at the long landing on the fourth floor... there was nobody there.  We had a quick discussion; Hank took the door to the left, Bill's room, and I took the one to the right - the attic, or "rustic chalet" room.  Bills door was unlocked; the "chalet" door was locked, but I had a key.  I waited while Hank cleared Bill's room - no sign of an intruder.

 

I unlocked the second door, and we rushed in.

 

Empty.

 

Door locked, windows locked. 

 

"Well, I reckon it was just 'him' again," Hank said.  We unloaded our gear and fetched a couple beers.

 

The third (and final) personal experience was on my final night in the house, October 1973.  Our lease on the magnificent old place had finally expired.  Sadly, in the face of growing opposition and the beginning of persecution by the changing administration and student body of San Francisco State University, our board decided to bring to an end the grand experience of Kappa Phi Delta.  Channel 7 even featured us on the evening news.

 

Right after the news crew left, the few of us still in residence headed out for a party in Pacifica. 

 

after midnight, I came home - and was the only person in the house.  I walked up to my room on the third floor - which had at one time been the master suite of the house.  I unlocked and opened the door... and immediately felt a chill.  My head swiveled and my gaze was pulled toward a dark, cherrywood hutch across the room.

 

This piece of furniture was old, battered, and had been in the house (and that room) as long as anyone remembered.  It had been used by a number of my predecessors to store everything from textbooks to reloading supplies, with the latter being MY contribution.

 

The glass upper and wooden doors of the lower featured a "skeleton key" type lock.  But, there had never been a key.  Nobody who had ever lived in that room had ever seen a key.

 

But, this night, I was drawn to the piece.  I looked down, and there, visible in the ambient light from the windows, lay a small skeleton key on the floor in front of the hutch.  The key fit the locks perfectly.  Something wanted me to have it.

 

Even though it would never match other furniture purchases, forty-eight years later I still have the old hutch.  And it still houses miscellaneous reloading and shooting supplies.  And a few books.

 

 

622734565_HutchKey.jpg.d0972ad64746704b002028eeb2753a13.jpg

 

 

333667845_HutchwithKey.jpg.82f3938dd7d825237f37779c272fd453.jpg

Link to comment
Share on other sites

At one of the rail shops I worked at the storekeepers kept saying they had seen ghosts behind the building and in the parking lot. I figured it was “power of suggestion” ghost sightings and figured someone was just having fun with the storeroom staff. 
One night I was out behind the building talking with a storekeeper when we both saw a lady with black hair and what looked like a white nightgown. I turned to ask him if he saw it. He said he did and just like that the apparition was gone. Weird. I never saw it again. 

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Join the conversation

You can post now and register later. If you have an account, sign in now to post with your account.

Guest
Reply to this topic...

×   Pasted as rich text.   Paste as plain text instead

  Only 75 emoji are allowed.

×   Your link has been automatically embedded.   Display as a link instead

×   Your previous content has been restored.   Clear editor

×   You cannot paste images directly. Upload or insert images from URL.

Loading...
 Share

×
×
  • Create New...

Important Information

By using this site, you agree to our Terms of Use.