~ Music Control
It's that one particular time it might be a
comfort to know you're really seeing double!
turn off your lights to reads this
It's always late at night when this happens, the lights are low and you find yourself up just a little later than you had planned. But what the heck, right? The house is quiet and comfortable, and you were having fun playing somewhere in that vast beyond they call the "Net" (and best of all, just think of all those stories you won't be able to tell your grandchildren!).
Still, the house is deadly still and the sound of all those voices in your head is just a mere faraway echo -- now, you can even hear the ticking of the clock on the farthest wall. And then you see them . . .
Faint at first, then more pronounced. And the weirdest thing is, there are any windows over in that corner and not one light is on in that far room. Still they're there . . .
Moving ever more carefully now, you turn away from your computer screen, swivel the chair and stand up -- never taking your eyes off that one corner wall. Then, for just a moment, as you about to snap on a light, it moved! You're sure about it, just as sure as you have ever been about anything. IT really moved, and in a flowing motion too, as if what were casting the shadow was floating . . .
Thinking maybe a little too strangely, you pick up your camera lying just next to the television. You point, shoot and when the film advances, you shoot again. And when you put down the camera, a chill shoots straight through you as you watch it fade from view and drift up into the ceiling.
Three weeks later you remember you had some very different type of pictures on that roll you used up over the holidays....and yes, there they are, but this time you can make out the shapes...the seem more well-defined and look just like your grandfather when he used to do that funny dance that made shadows on the wall in his living room -- the one that made you laugh when you were just old enough to remember. It's him, alright, you know deep down to your shoes, it's really him, in the . . .
- - - - - -
Welcome to our newest Ghostly Library, and here's how I would like to start it off: By asking any of you to send in pictures you might have that fit this story. Send them attached to emails as jpg's, bmp's or gif's only . . . and I'll start a thumbnail section you can click to see full sized versions. I believe we can have a little interactive fun with this and I know it will make this new Ghostly Library one to remember.
Here's my email so you can easily send them in . . . but first, shouldn't you turn on just a few more lights?
YER GONNA LUV OUR OPENING STORY!
pinch yourself, it's
not really there . . .
or is it?
New Found Friend
by Michael Willis
Hailing From: Brea, California
Where it Happened: Down the street from my house
This all happened a long time ago, when I was but a wee kid. Strange things happened all day long, and what happened that night almost made me lose my mind.
I'll start at the beginning . . .
I was raised in a nice Christian family, not really taught anything about the supernatural, but I've always felt that I was rather sensitive to those things. When I went to Gettysburg in my eight grade year, I could hear the shouted orders, the firing of muskets and canons, as well as smell the gunpowder.
I went to Dachau in Germany a few years ago, and felt this incredible sense of sadness and a need to escape. It got so bad I broke down and wept. Kinda strange seeing a grown man, nearly 210 pounds, break down and weep like a little child.
Well, back to my story. I was watching television upstairs in our house, when I felt like I was being watched. When I turned my head quickly, I swear, I saw something, something that couldn't exist, and my mind blanked it out. All I know is that something slammed the door to the room with such force that to this day, it's off the mark and gets stuck in the frame if you close it.
A little shaken, but not enough to drown out the average 13 year olds need for fun, I called my friend down the street, and asked if he wanted to have a sleep over. Readily agreeing, we started to plan things to do. His family was part of a religion called B'hai, and the idea of the supernatural wasn't even allowed to be discussed. I was a good Christian boy at the time, and I gave ghosts and ghoulies barely even a second thought. Well, later that night, we were both hanging out outside his house, talking about, you got it, sex, the average 13 year old misconceptions about the wonders of the female form, when the hair on the back of my neck stood up.
It was the same feeling I felt that morning, except much, much worse.
Turning around slowly, I saw the apparition. The creature was nearly transparent. Standing only about 15 feet from where I was sitting, I could easily make out detail. It was wearing the torn uniform of a naval officer, covered in seaweed, and looking quite the worse for wear. Raising one of its rotting arms slowly, it pointed at me.
Needless to say, I was terrified. With all the courage I could muster, I stammered to tell my friend to look around. He did, and jumped in fright. He saw it too! Leaping up, we ran into the house, screaming like, well, little scared children. Telling his mother what happened, she called my brother to come and pick me up. No way in the world was I going to walk home alone that night!
As she was on the phone, both of us heard the sound of boots on the tiles leading to the houses kitchen. Strangely, the parents of my friend didn't hear a thing. Cowering in the corner like cattle, my friend and I seemed to have slipped into a kind of shock. Minutes later, my teenage brother, 17 at the time, showed up to walk me home. Smiling in relief that the nightmare was over, I gladly for once, accepted my brothers presence.
Nothing strange happened until we got home, when he tried to get me to tell him what happened. Our parents were out at a dinner, meeting friends, but would be on their way home soon, after my brother had called them and told them II was freaking out.
I started to tell my brother what had happened, as I sat on the stairs, looking out the window into our backyard. It was then that the apparition, or creature, or whatever, showed up again, pressing itself against the window. I screamed, and pointed. My brother spun around, but saw nothing.
Seconds later, the front door, only a short distance away, shook slightly. Going to open it, thinking it was my parents, my brother turned away. I saw the creature smile, and chuckle. Looking out the window to the front door, I saw a strange light.
I was now screaming, "Matt, don't open that door, don't open that door!" I nearly leaped out of my skin. The creature disappeared, and my parents appeared soon thereafter.
Fortunately, nothing strange has happened since, unless you count the fact that I felt like the creature was myself, and I have decided to become a naval officer for my career. Perhaps the creature was myself, giving me a warning. I don't know. We will just have to see.Waterbed Woes
by Phillip Austin
Hailing From: McGuire AFB, NJ
Where it Happened: Athens, GA
Okay, let me start this by saying I am a normal guy. Nothing really special about me. I don't read scary stories, I watch the X-Files (only because I think Gillian is HOT) and the tale I am about to tell scared the living bejesus out of me. So here goes . . .
My family moved into this house when we moved to Athens. It was an old rambling farm house set way out in the country.
Nothing spectacular, just a big old farm house.
My room was on the front. It was small, had wood floors and the view was breath-taking. I was 16 and I had slept on a waterbed most of my life -- and since we lived in Arizona near a fault line where I experienced numerous earthquakes, my parents decided it was a good idea to purchase some rails to go along the side of the bed just to keep me from sloshing out in case an earthquake occurred. Since I was so used to them being there, I had never removed them.
As a habit, I slept on my back, and one night, at about 3:00 a.m. I was awakened because my waterbed was sloshing from side to side so violently it was about to throw me right out onto the floor. When I was fully awake, I tried to sit up, but I couldn't. I was being held to the bed, no lie. I could feel about 5 pairs of hands holding me down. The room was also extremely dark, darker than I had ever seen it before. Meanwhile the bed was still going side to side. Those of you who have waterbeds know what this is like. I started struggling to get free and was yelling at the top of my lungs for help, but nothing was coming out. It was like my voice didn't even exist at that point.
My father (who is a 6 foot 4 mountain man from Tennessee) was awakened by the noise my bed was making and came to my room to tell my to quiet down (he thought I was playing around in there). He tells me that when he opened the door, there was such a look of terror in my eyes that it sent chills rumbling down his spine. Not to mention that he also noticed how pitch dark the room was.
I remember seeing him and trying desperately to tell him what was going on, but nothing was coming out of my mouth. He said he saw my mouth moving and he could tell I was screaming something out, but he couldn't hear a sound. About 30 seconds after he opened my door . . . he says he felt something subzero rush past him and out, and like magic my voice came back and I was screaming and crying all at the same time.
Now, when a 16 year old Georgia farm boy starts to cry . . . there is something VERY wrong. My dad tells me my face was so pale he thought I was going to pass out.
Now get ready for this: The next day, on my legs and arms . . . were bruises from struggling to get free of who or what was holding me down.
I also clearly remember this, and this is what scared me the most I think: Whatever it was, I could feel it inside of me. It was like a cold chill snaking it's way through your body. It started in my feet and worked it's way to my head.
This was the first time this occurred. It happened again and again, until I finally left home at the age of 19. If my mother or father didn't wake up and come in, it would last for an hour or so, then stop on it's own. Each incident happening around 3:00 a.m. I checked into the history of the house. The owner before us had died in the house, but it was a peaceful very gentle death, nothing to warrant a haunting like this. I never did understand what was going on, or why it happened around 3:00 a.m. every time.
So anyway, that's my story.
Phillip, thanks for the recount of your encounter!
It's my guess that there is no correlation with the haunting you experienced
and the death of the former occupant. However, I do wonder if you possibly have
ever suffered from epileptic seizures? If that isn't the case, then my next guess
might be that a question in the Forum would be in order . . .
I wonder if anyone might have a clue about what could have been the cause of this?
A Short Story
One day I went with my friends to Soul Full Cup, a local coffee shop. We were sitting around playing with a Ouija board. The board spelled out that someone special would visit me that night. I thought it was one of my friends playing a joke, so I laughed it off, although no one would admit to it. That night while I was sleeping, I heard a strange noise that woke me up. I opened my eyes to see a dark faceless figure looming over my bed. I opened my mouth to scream, but nothing came out. He laughed and placed his hands on my body. He proceeded to touch me all over my body, until he screamed and fell into the floor. I never told anyone about it or saw him again. Was he back to this earth to satisfy his yearning for human touch, or was the reasoning for his visit due to some other stranger, darker factor? To this day I have yet to unravel the mystery of this desperate soul's visit to this earth.
These kind of submittals are always a little disturbing to me because I wonder if they are really for real, and if they are, I wonder if it was really a ghost or something that the writer should be really afraid of . . .
Seven Ghosts Plus One
by Amber Teasley
Hailing From: Creedmoor, North Carolina
Where it Happened: when i was about 11
When I was around 11, I was with one of my best friends, Katie, who lived on a small farm where there were many two-story barns that we used to play in because they were empty. She had a two-story house right beside her where a girl about our age lived. Her name was Tara. She always said it was haunted, but we never believed her.
She said that there were about seven ghosts in the house. One that hid under the bed, one in a painting, one that was an old soldier, and one that was an old lady in a rocking chair.
One day, me and Katie were playing in the barn that was about 100 feet away from Tara's house. We were on the second story, sitting on the edge of the window looking out. The window faced Tara's house, and there was an upstairs room at her house that had a window facing us. We were sitting up there when we saw everyone in Tara's house leave to go out to eat. And I mean we saw EVERYONE leave. No one was left in the house.
So, there we were just talking as usual when I looked over at Tara's house, at that window, and I saw the most terrifying thing in my life. Looking at us through her window was a "person" who had glowing yellow eyes. I call it a "person" but it was actually more like a shadow -- and it was just staring at us.
Katie and I just sat there for a minute. Then we started freaking out. We jumped up from where we were sitting, and ran down the barn stairs. We started crying as we were running because it scared us so bad. When we got back to the house, we waited till Tara and her family got back home, and we called her and asked if anyone had been at home while they were gone -- and of course she said that no.
We were so scared to even come near her house after that. Oh, and another thing happened too. One night I was spending the night at Katie's house, and I woke up to the sound of footsteps down the hall, and I had a weird, eerie feeling about it. But I was so tired I went back to sleep. I found out later that no one had been walking down the hall that night. I had hoped that the ghost didn't follow us back to Katie's house, but nothing else ever happened.
All of this happened about 4 years ago. Tara and her family moved out of the house about 2 years ago and a couple moved into the house. The couple just moved out a few months ago. Since me and Katie were a little older, we were brave enough to sneak in through a window. We wanted to find out if there were any ghosts left in the house. We never found anything though. We thought that maybe the ghosts left after Tara moved out, but nothing weird had happened since then -- and I will never forget those eyes. They were the scariest thing I have ever seen.
There! In the Corner!
by Dan Malo
Hailing From: Las Vegas, Nevada
Where it Happened: A Hotel-Casino in Las Vegas
Before I moved to Las Vegas, I used to visit a lot. My family and I enjoyed staying at the various hotels. About 3 years ago, we stayed at one of the original older Hotel Casinos on the Strip in Las Vegas. At the time this hotel- casino was experiencing difficulties with the Union. Our room was 179. When we got to the door, I put in the key-card. The little green light went on, and I tried to open the door. It was impossible to open! It took me and my dad to open it! At the time, we thought it was some kind of vacuum or the hinges on the door needed to be fixed. Of couse, five minutes later we forgot all about it.
A few minutes after I put my clothes in the drawers, I searched around the room (to check for any dropped casino chips from past guests). To my dismay, I found nothing. After that I looked for the bible in the room. There was none! Now that was odd. They are always in hotel rooms. Someone must have taken it. Later that day, we all went out to "The Strip." My mom got tired around 11 O'clock, so she went back to the room. Me and my dad stayed out 'til one o'clock in the morning. When we got back, I was really tired. I slept on the couch and my parents slept on the bed (we had a suite).
The next morning, my dad was almost crying. He said he had seen a ghost! I thought he was joking because he had always said there were no such things.
He said he saw it around 4:45 in the morning. According to him, he felt something at the foot of the bed. He turned over, sat up and opened his eyes. Standing before him was a woman dressed in a white dress. He said it looked like something from the '40's or '50's. The lady had her arms folded across her chest. He could see all the wrinkles in her dress. She just stood there and didn't make a sound. But he did not see a face or hands, just "whiteness."
When he saw her he yelled at my mom to wake-up. My mom didn't wake up right away. He shook her a few times to wake up. When she did, my dad looked at the woman at the foot of the bed. Then, she just dissipated from the outside, in.
They didn't wake me until 8:00 a.m. They said they didn't want to keep me awake. I really didn't know what to think. So, being the smart-ass that I am, I lit a match and said, "Ghost, you are no longer welcome here. Get out of our room!" But then I said, "Oh, never-mind, you can just stay over in that corner if you don't bother us."
My parents were apprehensive about staying another night. I convinced them that we should stay another night because I thought it would be "cool," and so they agreed.
That night, I fell asleep around 12:30. At about 4:00 in the morning I felt something in the room. I was afraid to look. I put my head in my blankets for about 15 minutes, I was breathing pretty hard. I decided to stick my head out of the blankets and when I did, I was scared out of my pajamas. There, in the corner that I had told the ghost to go, was the the ghost -- white dress and all.
Immediately, I put my head under the covers. Tears were coming down my face. I hoped to God that the ghost didn't come over to me.
I stayed awake and didn't move until I heard my parents were awake. When I had told them what had happened, the decided that we would never return to this hotel EVER again! We packed up all of our stuff and headed out, and when we got to the door, the maid was there. My dad asked her, "What was that we saw in the room?"
The maid's eyes got big and she asked us if we had seen "the ghost."
When we all answered "Yes" in unison, she said that she would not clean the room, handed off the towels to us and ran off crying.
When we checked out, we didn't ask anyone about the ghost because we didn't want to "cause a scene." When we got home, I told ALL my friends about it. They all said "cool." I didn't think it was cool at all.
At work, my dad asked if anybody knew any ghost-stories about the place we had stayed. One of his coworker's girlfriends had been a cocktail waitress there and said that in the 50's a country-western singer had stayed there. He was cheating on his wife with his mistress. His wife visited him while he was in bed with the mistress and shot her (the mistress). That's all of the story I heard.
The mistress of the man may or may-not be the ghost in room 179, but all I know is that there IS a ghost in that room, and I'll never go there EVER again.
our very first story about a casino-hotel in Las Vegas
And I have to admit that I am a little leery about using their actual
name in the edited story. I think what I will do is e-mail the hotel and ask
them if we can indeed use their name and, if it is ok, we will.
In the past we've had older establishments with vastly different opinions
regarding the mention of their name in connection with ghostly experience.
If any of my Las Vegas readers who do work in the casinos can e-mail me to shed
some light on this, or give me their opinion of what to do, I would greatly
appreciate it . . . and for sure, thanks to you, Dan, for
sending in your encounter.
Happy New Year!
by Mark Glass
Hailing From: Farmville, Virginia
Where it Happened: Farmville
I was a wee lad when this happened to me, and was around 13 years old at the time. I was doing the usual sleep over with one of my bestest buddies like all good seventh graders do. Well, I was staying over my friends house for a weekend and we all went to his grandmother's place out in the country. Now the Grandmothers place was this huge old Civil-war Plantation that was nestled out in the country, and as beautiful and majestic as it was, I was always scared of the place for some reason....and soon I was about to find out why!
I t was one late Saturday night and the only people left in the entire house were Glenn's Grandmother, Glenn, and of course myself. Glenn and I did are usual routine of late night shows, popcorn and what have you. Our room looked like it had never been altered since the 18th century. It was a huge room with period furniture and a Gigantic Brass bed that we both were about to sleep in.
After our binge of popcorn and soda's and late night movies we went upstairs to settle in for the night. Well as all 7th graders usually do, we were goofing and wrestling around in the bed for a bit . . . silly kid stuff . . . but we eventually turned out the table lamp and settled in for some sleep . . .
It was about 30 minutes later when I heard the door knob starting to turn, and the door opened. It was completely pitch-black both in that room and in the hall (Glenn's Grandmother, being the ever tight penny-pincher she was, no light was ever left on without a purpose). So, the door shut and then footsteps were heard coming towards us at the foot of the bed. Just about when I was wondering if Glenn was awake to hear all this I heard him say, "Grandma? Is that you?"
There was no answer.
"Grandma is that you?" he said once again.
And again, no response.
Then the footsteps walked from the foot of the bed, around to my side where I lay. Needless to say, this was petrifying me, so I instinctively reached out and turned on the lamp . . . and I felt this pressure on my middle as I tried to reach the switch.
Finally, I hit the light switch, and there was no one there. Needless to say, I was up and outta that room in one second flat.
We ran outside the Plantation house very, very scared. I didn't want to go back in there ever again.
We ended up in one of the hay barns and the next morning at breakfast we mentioned this to Glenn's Grandmother. She just had this serious look on her face and said, "So, ya seen him too then?"
Glenn and I just turned white as a sheet. She added, "He comes into my room and likes to steal my glasses and hide them from me".
This totally through me for a loop. I never ever had the notion to go back to that place to this day! So, yes I do believe and I know there are spirits here with us.
Absolutely . . .
Yes! As do so many
... thanks for the story!
Ghostories appreciates it!
Just a couple of days from now,
This will be a story from last Century!
Life with Fred
Hailing From: St. Louis, MO
Where it HappenED: Lebanon, IL
My teen years were turbulent and not very pleasant. I won't go into much detail, but a little background is necessary in order to fully explain the story I have to tell.
My family, being military, traveled often. This made us very dependent upon one another. However, in 1985 my father retired to a small, miserable town called Lebanon in the cornfields of Illinois. Being a small town, it was chocked full of every small-town cliché imaginable. My sister, being two years older than I, found the prospect of not being uprooted suddenly very pleasing and made many friends very easily. I, on the other hand, couldn't stand the bumpkins we lived among and quickly became the town outcast. My father, hating retirement, found a local job and was gone from the house a lot. My mother and I were never close, and she soon became lost in my sisters popularity and forgot about me. (None of this bothered me, after all, I knew one day I would leave).
Nonetheless, I found myself alone a lot.
Our house was a clone of the typical 1950's two story white house. We even had the white picket fence in the back yard. There had only been one previous owner of our abode, a nice old couple that had retired to Florida. They did not smoke, and no one in my family did at that time. However, shortly after moving in we would smell cigarette smoke in various area's of the house. It was so strong it would make one's eyes water, then it would be gone. My father was never a believer, still isn't, so this was easily dismissed by him. However, my mother soon named the smoke the work of Fred. Once Fred became named, he made himself very believable.
The footsteps, the lights, so on were all par for the cause. However, Fred's favorite activity would be rearranging the food in the fridge. We would come to breakfast in the morning and all the food would be alphabetized, or arranged according to color, size, so on. Once he even crammed all the food onto one shelf. My mother yelled "Oh Fred! Don't you EVER do that again! Now clean this up!" The next time the door was opened, it was cleaned. (Although my father would say it was a half-ass effort).
But it was when I was alone that I could feel Fred more closely. He would "be there" so strongly. I would talk to him out loud, never getting an answer but feeling better. In our basement was a makeshift hobby room the previous owner had constructed. We kept our tools in this room as well as our empty luggage. When I would enter this room, I would feel like I was intruding. It was always cold, and as soon as I found what I was looking for the feeling to get out would be even stronger. Nothing bad ever happened, just the urgency to get out. I asked Fred if he wanted me to stay out of his room. The lights began to flicker and I took that as a yes. I moved the tools and luggage and never went in there again. This continued for 3 years until one day I was viciously attacked (gotta love those small towns!). Once I returned home and slept in my bed again, I felt someone sit down next to me. I thought it was my sister, but when I looked I saw only a butt-print, no body. I cried and talked to Fred all night about what had happened, and from that point on he "slept" with me every night. I could sometimes feel him sit next to me on the couch, or on the front porch swing. He was very comforting.
I graduated from High School in 1990 and got the hell out of Dodge. The last night I was to sleep at home I told Fred I was leaving. I heard a very heavy sigh expelled next to me. I promised I would visit, and I did. Each time I would visit, he would sit next to me and I would fill him in on my life.
Then in 1995 my parents moved to Alabama and sold the house. On the last day that I would ever be in the house, I had to say good-by to Fred. I went into my now empty room and told Fred the news. I heard the sigh again, then footsteps as he walked away from me, down the stairs, and then into the basement. I cried all the way home.
Someone else lives in the house now. I drove by it yesterday, the first time in almost 4 years (6/99). It looked well taken care of. I wonder if Fred is still there, if he likes the new people. I wonder if they like him? I miss him, my Fred, and think of him often.
I lived in Savannah, Georgia for almost 3 years. It is the most haunted city in the US, I feel, and I have several stories to prove it. Perhaps some other time...
Thank you for letting me tell my story.
Wrung Out of the House
Hailing From: Middletown, Ohio
Where it Happened: Middletown, Ohio
In 1974 a friend of mine told me this story, because in a way, it involved me. It all happened back in the summer of 1972. My mother-in-law had passed away, and while disposing of her household items, my husband and I decided to keep her old wringer washer because we did not have one of our own. After two or three months we purchased an automatic washer and dryer and gave the wringer washer to the cousin of our baby-sitter. I had not seen them for a while and happened to run into them one day. They proceeded to tell me of the strange happenings with this old-fashioned washer.
One night as the wife was watching television she had the very strong feeling that someone was watching her, and as she turned to look around, she saw a figure pass by the doorway. She became very frightened and called her husband at work. He laughed it off and thought she had become spooked after watching too much TV.
This went on for about a week, then one evening she heard a noise in the bathroom. When she went to look, she discovered the old washer was in motion, it was agitating all by itself -- and it was unplugged.
Her husband returned from work later that evening and while relaxing before going to bed he heard that very same noise. When he went to look, he encountered the very same weird event that his wife had witnessed earlier that evening. They nervously shrugged it off and tried to forget about it.
A few days later the same thing occurred. By now they were very frightened and decided it would be best to move out of the house. The husband was so scared that he called his father to help them move. As they were resting during moving day, the father asked if they had disturbed anything in the house.
After a moment of thought, he was able to tell his father that they had indeed come upon something when they were first "exploring" their new home. He was able to recount that when they moved in, he and his wife had found a very old, yet elegant, marriage license. It was a beautiful document and they decided to have it framed for display in the house.
Upon hearing this, the father became very upset and told them that they should never have disturbed something so personal, and he sternly advised them to return the license to its original spot where they had first found it in the attic.
Of course, after everything they had been through, they quickly took his advice.
Later that day, which was very hot and still, they were sitting in the kitchen when a icy breeze suddenly swept a pile napkins off the table. When it subsided, everything went back to the way it was and the air was hot and still once more. They took this as a sign and left the house, leaving the old roller washer behind, most likely, to be found by the next unsuspecting owner.
This experience affected them for quite some time, and it even prompted the husband to seek mental help. But these days there is no news regarding the old self-driven roller washer, or the elegant marriage certificate, and so If anything has gone amiss in that old house since their stay there, not a word has been mentioned.
Hailing From: Ohio
Where it Happened: Nashville, Tn
My family had just moved to Tennessee and we were now living in a large house that had originally been a summer residence for a turn of the century rich Nashville family. As with all moves to a different place, things had a habit of being displaced (moved) and no one was willing to take the credit (or the blame) for it.
This seemed to happen the most in my youngest son's room. He would get up in the mornings to find that several of his toys had been moved and it was very upsetting to him because he took great care of "his" toys especially since they were the ones he had bought with his own money. He laid the blame on me since I was the one that always came into his room to check on him at night. I had a difficult time convincing him that neither I nor his older brother had touched or moved anything.
This went on for several nights. While these events were taking place, this happened: I had a small toy poodle that slept by the head of my bed. She would often wake me at night with a very low throaty growl. When I would look to see what was bothering her, I usually never saw or heard anything. That is, until this one particular night when she woke me with a strange eerie growl.
When I awoke to her growling, I heard a strange metallic noise, and when I looked in the direction the dog was looking, I saw a wire coat hanger dancing back and forth across the hardwood floor. The hair on the back of my neck was standing on end.
I was terrified to get out of bed and go anywhere near that hanger! I sat in bed and watched that hanger dance for five minutes or more. Finally, the dog gave a low bark and the hanger immediately stopped. After watching it for several minutes, I got up and went to the hanger. Slowly and with great care I bent over and picked it up. There were no strings. Nothing that could have made it dance in such an unusual way!
All I was holding was a common ordinary wire coat hanger
This was just the first night of the dancing coat hanger Both of my sons and my husband were to witness this strange phenomenon, and they didn't have an explanation for it either. It was to go on for several months, but the worse was yet to come!
We had just returned to Ohio for a two weeks visit and it was nice to finally get a good nights sleep again. Upon telling our families of this strange occurrence we were laughed at. They all thought we were nuts. Even I had begun to doubt what I had seen and heard with my own eyes and ears! Soon there would be no more doubt.
Driving from Ohio, we had gotten back to Tennessee very late. All any of us could think about was getting to bed, which we did as soon as we arrived. Then, about 2:00 am, I came groggily awake to feel someone patting my cheek and calling, "Momma, Momma" in the saddest, most frightened voice I am sure I had ever heard.
I immediately thought something was wrong with one of my sons. I raised up on one elbow and said, "What's wrong?" It was then I realized that it wasn't one of my boys. This was a young boy about 5 or 6 years old with sandy blonde hair and sad blue eyes. He was dressed in brown short pants and a white shirt with with old fashioned collar.
He slowly reached out and touched my cheek and said, "Momma".
"Who are you?" I asked. "Why are you so sad?"
And as I reached out to touch his hand he disappeared!
I am absolutely sure my heart stopped! After waking everyone in the house and doing a second by second playback over and over, no one could come up with a feasible answer or explanation for what had happened.
I did NOT go back to bed that night. The next morning I went to talk to my neighbors and we went over descriptions of all the young boys in the neighborhood. None of the descriptions fit the child I had seen.
by Jason Jewell
Hailing From: Kirby, AR
Where it Happened: Gurdon, AR
More than 30 years ago in the backwoods reaches of Southern Arkansas a vital part of the industry was the locomotive, primarily because most of the jobs were fulfilled back then, as they still are today, by lumber mills. On this one particular train which ended up in the spotlight of my encounter, lumber was transported just outside of town from the mill to who knows where. Now I forget the actual name that they assigned to this guy, but there was a man who would ride on the back of the very last car, and since there were no such things as flashlights, it was his job to use a lantern to signal the conductor of the train. Like Morse Code, he would use various signals to alert the conductor of the train. For example, if he flashed his light twice that meant there was trouble and to stop the train immediately. For ease of telling this tale, we'll call the man who manned this semiphorical light, Lantern Man.
And so, there he was, armed with his lantern at the end of the train. He was employed by the mill and he did this for several years when one night as he was working the graveyard shift, there was a problem with some of the train cars and their connectors. As always, he was riding down the track on the end car and as soon as he noticed the problem he signaled to the conductor. When the train finally came to a clanging stop, the Lantern Man jumped from his post to check out the couplings between two of the cars.
Back then, as is still the case today, the rail cars were connected by a hook-and-lock device that when slammed together, intertwined to latch onto the other car. The Lantern Man walked down to the two cars, and when he checked them out, he discovered that two of the cars had become unhooked.
Now to do his job correctly (and to make things even a little more difficult for the Lantern Man), he had to climb up on one of the hook-and lock devices to be able to spot the problem, and as sometimes happens, trains shift a bit after stopping -- this night was no exception.
From what people could determine after it was all over and they found him, when Lantern Man was just about to signal the conductor to start backing up so as to slam the hook-and-lock devices together, the train shifted and he fell with his head landing smack-dab between this huge device -- and when he fell, his light flew out of his hand and rolled out from between the two cars -- making it visible to the conductor far ahead in the front of the train with his hand poised on the throttles.
Seeing the light from so far away, the conductor thought it was Lantern Man signaling him to back-up to slam the locking device in place, which he did according to the master plan. However, he had no idea that after it was all over, when his hand moved forward on the lever, the movement of the train would decapitate the Lantern Man.
When he found out, the conductor was devastated. The Lantern Man was not only his coworker for many years, he had also been his best friend.
To this day it is a well-known fact that the Lantern Man can be seen swinging his lantern down by the tracks if one were to walk down to the rails after the sun has left the evening sky and there is only the feel of the chill and the darkness, which is where my personal story comes into play. You see, I dated the conductor's granddaughter not long ago and, although I had heard this story before, it had more of an impact when I heard the actual story straight from her grandfather's mouth.
And now that you know the origin behind the story . . .
Several years ago, the story of the Lantern Man had aired on the popular TV series, Unsolved Mysteries, and I was anxious to check it out. Now, after moving to Gurdon to begin my 1999 Fall semester at Henderson State University, I was living just a short 15 mile commute from rural Gurdon, Arkansas down the well-traveled Interstate to the place where it all happened.
I wish I could say that I had never been so anxious to visit the tracks on that night because as it turned out, it was a horrifying trip. It happened one night during what is called "Dead Week" at HSU (Dead week simply means that students aren't game to professors for any type of testing because students are preparing for midterms). Some friends of mine and I decided to walk the track and just find out for ourselves if the legend was true or not. My girl friend did not want to go because she had been down the tracks before and claimed that the legend was indeed 100 percent true.
I had my own doubts.
So on the night they called Dead Week, a group of my friends (three besides myself) began our trek down those tracks. This is about a two-mile trip one way, so we were deep in the woods by the time we spotted the man with the light.
Upon seeing the man with his lantern swinging back and forth around the level of his waist we were immediately filled with self-doubt as to whether or not our trip and skepticism amounted to any kind of real common sense. A few months earlier, I had received an injury to my back which caused me to have surgery, so I was slow in walking, but I got there -- and of course everyone else in our group were faster runners than me.
I suppose the tone of the entire excursion changed the moment the man with the lantern started coming toward us.
There was one flashlight in our group, and of course I didn't have it. Upon the man's approach, the others began their journey at a kind of hurried walk back toward civilization. I however was left behind because I wasn't as fast or agile. I saw the others fade off into the distance with the only lights we had, and so all I had to guide my way was the glow of the moonlight and the sound of my hearth thrumming in my ears.
One of the hardest things I have ever done was turn my back on that man walking with his lantern. As I walked the man got closer and closer but kept disappearing some of the time.
On this particular night I never heard him speak anything, even though I had heard that popular belief had proved the contrary. As I walked, the man was walking behind me. I could hear his feet grinding down in the gravel and began to walk as fast as my physical condition would let me. Suddenly, the man and his lantern and all traces of him disappeared and all I was left with was the noise that his feet continued to make in the gravel behind me.
About a mile down the track, his steps grew closer and closer as I was growing increasingly fatigued. I began to think that one of my friends was trying to scare me. In fact, I was almost sure that was the noise I was hearing. As I came upon a place where the gravel turned to shale, I heard a noise right beside me in the bushes not ten feet off the side of the track. At the point I was sure it had to be a prankster in our group, I heard a yell from about a mile down the tracks for me to hurry up -- and I was hearing all three of my party member's far away voices . . . .
It was then I realized that the quickening footsteps that had been following (or tracking) me were not any of those belonging to my friends, it was the ghost of the Lantern Man.
I was completely terrified.
I began to make my way further down the tracks when the man walked up behind me and tapped me on my shoulder.
I could not see him, but I could feel, and I could hear him.
Now if you want to be terrified, let an invisible person tap you on the shoulder in the middle of the pitch cold darkness, and nearly desolate wilderness.
I was then, and still am, somewhat of an athlete. I played football for five years and I wasn't a little guy by any means. I am 6'4" and 300 pounds of a whole lot of muscle. In southern parlance, I am big enough to go bear hunting with a switch. Being raised in the woods to hunt, sometimes at night, I was no "Fraidy Cat." But after the events I seen that night I am now somewhat more choosey about the folks I take with me to that place.
I have been back on numerous occasions and every time I have seen what is referred to in the state of Arkansas as, "The Gurdon Light." Finally I made it back to the truck, which thank God was mine and I still had the keys too. My host of friends were waiting for me there and said they had been waiting for me for at least and hour. Whether you believe it or not, these are very credible friends and they wouldn't lie to me.
The hardest thing I have ever done was turn my back on a ghost. That terrified me. Now I am a firm believer in ghosts. This is not "Folklore," or an "Urban Legend," the events that I spoke were all true, and I am witness to that and so are a lot of people from southwest reaches of Arkansas.
Thanks for sending in your encounter, Jason.
I am so glad we were able to place it here permanently in our Ghostly Libraries and
as I finish my editing, I see I am covered some with really welcome goose bumps!
by Katie Sharon's submittal called "Trouble Maker"
Hailing From: Hawthorne, WI
Where it Happened: My room in the basement
About 8 years ago I moved into my current home. At first my sister and I shared a room on the main floor, but after a year or two I grew sick and tired of her and demanded a new room of my own. My parents decided a cool room in the basement would change my mind -- but it didn't -- so they moved the family room upstairs and my room downstairs (in the basement) -- and it is in that place that my story begins.
From the very start strange things began to happen, and no matter what excuse I gave myself for these strange occurrences, they continued and got weirder and weirder all the time. At first, things would disappear and reappear in places of my room where I would never put them, or look for them. Then, the lights would flash and the radio would turn on and off, and sometimes even switch stations while I was across the room watching.
Eventually, I started to see things too. I had always thought that ghosts would be cool to see, so at first I was so excited that I would live in my room hoping to catch a glance or a hint that one was around.
Then the fun started . . . .
I swear the little devil thought that it was being funny, if I said "no" it would do it some more or give me a real good chill. It got to the point where I would literally yell at it and tell it that if it didn't stop I would kick his butt.
One night it was playing the same routine and I really laid into it. I really ticked it off and all of a sudden things started to fly across my room and hit the walls. I sort of got startled but continued to scream and cuss at it. I think it decided to use a different approach and stopped tossing things around, because that night I got the scare of my life.
It was around 12:30 a.m. when I finally crashed, I don't know what happened but all of a sudden I was startled to a full awaken state. I look up and saw a small, misty white figure standing next to my bed and staring at me with his hands on his hips. He must have only been 7 or 8 because I got a good look at him. I just stared unable to move, then I got the chills and sweats because of how truly terrified I was. After watching me almost wet my underwear he looked satisfied, shook one finger at me, and disappeared.
As soon as this had taken place I shot out of bed and ran upstairs as fast as my fatigued body would take me. I think that I slept on the couch for a week and refused to go to my room. I believe there are others for I have had other experiences that weren't nearly as nice as that one. It didn't feel nice at the time, but now that I think about it, I suppose I deserved it.
Thanks for sending in your basement encounter, Katie.
I remember a certain baby sitter who used to scare us silly when she would hide in our basement and await our coming down to find her after we had counted to 100 . . . it was a great game at the time, although later in life I find that basements give me a certain chill that, well, most definitely surpasses all the rest!
Hailing From: Hilo, HI
Where it Happened: Hilo, HI
The events I'm about to recount did not happen to me personally but to my Auntie and her family. At the time the events occurred my Auntie and her family lived in a house in Hilo. They owned the house and when they moved from the island to work they rented it to another family. After a few years they returned to their house and everything seemed to be in order, with the exception of my cousin's bedroom.
Sometimes when my cousin was lying down in his bed he would feel as if he was being pinned down by a ghostly presence. This continued for awhile but everybody sort of shook it off, until my Auntie saw the ghost herself.
My Auntie had been in the living room studying for her college classes when she saw an elderly Filipino man in a red palaka (plaid) shirt. After this scare, my Auntie decided to see a Kahuna (Hawaiian holy man). The Kahuna told my Auntie that the man was the father-in-law of the man who had rented the house from them. The man had died in my cousin's bedroom, but he didn't know he was dead. He also told my Auntie that this man was holding my cousin down because he was scared of him (my cousin was about 6' tall and around 250 pounds).
So following the Kahuna's advice my Auntie moved my cousin into another bedroom and put my much smaller cousin into the haunted bedroom. There were no more problems after that.
We are almost out of Ghostories Tee's, so, just so you know,
we won't be printing another batch of them,
at this point, so I guess they could be considered a
"collector's item" (or not, who knows, who cares, right?)
If you want one, now is the time to ask
I'll be giving the rest of them away on my birthday.
(Please don't write and ask if you can have a free tee shirt) .... thanks. I had always hoped, in my hope against hope, that if people truly enjoyed the site, they would purchase a tee (kind of naiive, eh?) -- and yes, a few did -- yet many to my amazement, many more who said they valued the site, didn't. Go figure, eh? As in life, all things are unpredictable, even those you pour your heart into...
Soon, all of our future stories will be in the "Express" section because there was just not enough support to keep the Libraries in editing and formatting staff .. and I have posted a note there, in the Express Section under an answer to "Buzz" that I hope you have a chance to read.
Until we meet again, take care, be well, and thank you for visiting O'Neill's Ghostories. From time to time I will pop in and post a special story on the front page, of that you can be certain.
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