O'Neill's Ghostories This Week: Tootse and Jake

Tootse and Jake
from Beth
Hailing From: Mechanicsville, Pennsylvania
Where it Happened: Home

I don't suppose any of this is actually scary but rather interesting instead. I actually have two stories to tell. The first affected me indirectly and the latter is something I have been aware of for most of my childhood.

My mother has always believed in ghosts and the possibly that there is something greater out there. I agree with her. I have always been fascinated with the supernatural and perhaps that stems from my first indirect experience.

When I was no more than a baby, my great grandmother Tootse died. I had never met her but from what I was told she was a very strong, a "no b.s." type of lady. She had a lot of character. She was one of the few relatives on my father's side that my mother really enjoyed. I was told that before my mother even knew she was pregnant with me, Tootse informed her of my presence.

The night of the funeral viewing, my father went up and my mother stayed home, mainly because I was not a healthy tike. That night my mom was in her bedroom folding laundry when she heard Midnight, our dog, whimper. She looked up and saw my great grandmother's spirit. She (my mom) did not feel afraid but very peaceful. She knew that my great grandmother had come to see me. She didn't follow her but just let her say her goodbye to me.

When my father came home she told him of the experience. He naturally did not believe her until she described the outfit Tootse was wearing, right down to the rosary in her hands. Ever since I was told that, I always felt that she was looking out for me.

The next story I have to relate is about the house I currently reside in. I have an overactive imagination. I always have and I always will. When I was younger, I always felt that someone was watching me, especially when I was down stairs in the family room. Not necessarily a bad feeling but scary none-the-less. I refused to play in the back room if no one was with me and I would run up the stairs as fast as I could once the lights were out. Even times when I would be upstairs, I would avoid looking down, afraid of what I might see. I would get chills and feel the hairs on the back of my neck rise. I always thought I was the only one who felt this way. That is until my parents told me about the music they would hear.

It was older music, not quite recognizable, but pleasant. Once it was out in the open that we all noticed this present, we nicknamed the presence Jake. I always felt Jake the strongest when I was home alone.

We had our family room remodeled and an office was made out of my old play room. The weird thing is how the temperature would change from the family room to the office. The office was cold. Plus, my dog refused to go in that room. Often I would have a dog bone in my hand and call for him to come to me while I was in the office. He would look over my shoulder and run up the stairs -- and my dog would do anything for a bone.

One day a friend of ours was visiting. She has always been able to see ghosts and even communicate with them. She confirmed for us that there indeed was a ghost in our home. An older gentleman who was not pleased at all that she was there.

When she left, things changed. It wasn't as cold in the office and music was never heard again. My dog could easily go into the room. The strange thing is that our friend was staying with her sister, a family relative of ours. When she left, the relative could detect a change in the temperature of the room where she had stayed. It was extremely cold. Once in a while, the radio which wasn't plugged in, would some how turn on. She knew there was a presense but she refused to acknowledge it.

Her definite proof that our ghost Jake was now visiting her was that the boy she was babysitting, D.J., came running out and said, "Someone is here, Auntie." She went to the front door but D.J. said no, the person is in the back room. The room where our friend had stayed.

D.J. still sees the ghost and unfortunately he doesn't like him. My parents have not said anything about future experiences, but there are times when I know I am not alone. I can still feel Jake's presense. I don't know if I should be frightened but I know he is there. I wish I could see him, but he has yet to reveal himself to me.

Maybe one day he will.

O'Neill's

Two great encounters! Thanks for sending them in Beth.

While I was reading and editing, I reminded myself that the house we bought was previously owned by a couple who were moving to Mechanicsville. Now, this really has nothing to do with anything, because our house I am convinced is not haunted -- the only chills I feel when I am here at home alone are when the AC has been on for too long! Or, for sure when I am reading a ghost story.

I do wonder if a lot of mechanics live in Mechanicsville, or if their city seal is a picture of a wrench or a hammer?

Speaking about tools and places people go to or come from, I just discovered that my home town where I lived in my teens was also the home town of one of my favorite actors, Tim Allen. What blew me away was that we went to the same High School, Seaholm High in Birmingham, Michigan -- and that we were there at the same period of time -- he graduated the year after I did. We probably stood in the same cafeteria line, grabbed the same soggy donuts from the donut tray, had to run on the same track in shiveringly cold weather, and passed each other in the halls.

Like ships passing on a river, I guess you never know who you have shared space with in a building, in a school -- and where each path will lead. I guess the important thing is that it always continues upward, and that you remain true to your dreams, your goals -- and never lose sight of your next destination.

I don't know what any of this has to do with the subject encounters on this page, just thoughts rattling around in my head, I suppose. Oh, hey, wanna see a high school pic of Mr. Allen when he was a Junior? I hope he won't mind -- I can't imagine he would, so here goes:

Actor Tim Allen in 1970 Source: Piper Yearbook, 1970, Seaholm High School