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Posted on 10/31/2011 4:51:04 PM PDT by bgill
It's Halloween! Post your spooky ghost stories here. Boo!
My brother and I were kids at the time, but years ago we were in the living room with the rest of the family watching TV. While fixated on the TV, out of the corner of my eye I saw something coming towards me from the adjoining hallway, I turned my head in time to see the partial image of a leg(from the knee down)and a foot(wearing a sandal). It passed(like a bat out of....)just to the right side of me, as it did I felt the thud as the foot hit the floor...then it leaped out the picture window behind me(I remember seeing the the curtains moving slightly as it went through the window).
I immediately asked if anyone else in the room had just seen it, looking across from where I was sitting(both of us on the floor)was my brother. I could tell by the expression on his face he(and only he)had seen it also, and described the image to others in the room exactly as I saw it.
My parents and other siblings in the room just blew it off, saying it was just the dog or something, with the curtains moving as a result of the dog or air coming through the register from the furnace being on...40+ years later I(and my brother)can honestly say...no way Jose.
Okay... true story. We have a friend named Steve. When he was in his 30’s with young children at home, he got a part time job at a florist shop. He would do the deliveries at the hospitals, private homes, businesses and even cemeteries. People will call in an order for flowers to be delivered to family/friend headstones if they can’t actually visit the graves. So, one day he gets a cemetery order. No big deal, right. He takes the order to the cemetery and he is looking for a man’s grave. He is alone in the cemetery and concentrating on the names on the stones. He hears a female voice call out, “Steve!”. He stops, looks around, no one there. Hmmm.. must have imagined it. He hears, “Steve, it’s me.. Linda”. He stops again. Linda? Gosh, that sounds like Linda from high school. At this point, he isn’t sure what is going on but darn if that voice didn’t sound just like Linda. He should know... they dated for a year. They went to the Prom. They even got semi-engaged but college, time... they lost track of each other. He sees a grave and walks to where the voice had been coming from. It was Linda’s grave. Unknown to him, Linda had died a few years after high school in a car accident. Was it Linda? How would a voice sound like the Linda he knew and then he finds her actual grave? Spooky stuff!
Added this one for FR a year about a story from my uncle back in the early 90’s and he swears by it til this day while he was a freshman at Univ of Arizona..
UA told him and other guys that their dorm was screwed up for the duration while the housing admin try to assign another dorm for him..
3 other guys said they said a house was available for rent a mile back that was renting and my uncle said “what the hell, why not?’ The manager said nothing at first but the first night...
My uncle was alone watching a 49ers game with Steve Young playing (he remembered it vividly). He thought one of his buds was in the dining room messing with the kitchen thought he had the remote on the couch and yelled at him “where’s the remote, bro”.
The remote flew 10 feet into the air from nowhere and narrowly missed his head.
My uncle got pissed and said ‘what the F*** your problem?” Went to the kitchen and saw no one. Then he noticed the other guys in the backyard so he went outside. He asked ‘what the F888 are you doing out here?” The other guy said “I don;t want to go inside>”
My uncle said “why not?” The other guy said “well, you’d run out too when your backpack moves by itself from one corner of the kitchen to the other corner.”
Farnsworth B&B Gettysburg, The Sara Black Room.
Stayed there with skeptic hubby Nov 2001.
Here are some of the things that happened to us in the room:
1. Classic doorknob rattling without anyone nearby. Happened at least twice.
2. Strong smell like a bad sewer.
Okay, here is where it gets creepy. Late, late at night I was awakened by the smell. I knew this was a haunted room and asked the occupant to stop it. Immediately there was the smell of fresh roses. Afterwards, I felt a touch like someone took their pointer finger and pressed it into my right calf. Fun, I thought and moved my leg. The sensation stopped. I moved my leg back to it’s original place, the sensations started again. Hum... Skeptic hubby got up to go to the facility in the night. The curtain that cordoned off the bedroom from the bathroom came lose and fell across the doorway as if to say you need privacy.
Next morning, hubby was no longer a skeptic. True Story. If you are in Gettysburg and plan on staying overnight, please consider the Farnsworth. The Sara Black is reputed to be the most haunted. And in our case it was.
Once upon a time, babies were killed before they even had a chance to see the outside world.
Actually, they still are.
“I knew this was a haunted room and asked the occupant to stop it. Immediately there was the smell of fresh roses. Afterwards, I felt a touch like someone took their pointer finger and pressed it into my right calf. Fun, I thought and moved my leg. The sensation stopped.”
The Chris Matthews tingle explained.
I would LOVE to say at that B & B... is it a specific room number? My younger daughter and son would go with me in a heartbeat. My husband.... he’d sleep in the car. UNLESS... I could go there without telling him and letting him experience whatever himself. Hmmm... would that be devious?
I was driving home from work through Eden Park in Cincinnati, Ohio. I got to a scene where a heavy set guy collapsed in the street in front of me. The guy had wet himself and was grey in color and obviously near death when I reached him.
I was going to do CPR but chose to run and find a phone at a nearby apartment building. No one answered any of the buzzers I hit.
Dejected that I had failed, I started to run back to the guy in the street who no one else had helped. On my way back to the guy, a jogger in a red satin jogging suit came up from behind me.
When I saw him, my first thought was that he was near death too. His skin was red as the worst sunburn and his eyes were bloodshot and squinting. I asked if he knew where there was a phone and started to explain that there was a guy in the street around the bend that had a heart attack.
The guy in the red jogging suit stared at me and said, “There is no hurry, he is dead,” in an odd accent I still can’t identify.
The jogger couldn’t have known that the guy was dead because he came from a direction and distance that would have prevented him from being within sight of the guy in the street, let alone been near him and returned in the moments I was hitting buzzers.
I went back to the guy in the street and then turned to ask the guy to help me do something, anything, but he wasn’t anywhere to be seen.
Because I had turned to the jogger and not the other way, I missed seeing a pay phone on the corner. On the phone booth glass was a magic marker drawing in red of a devil’s head.
I knew I had met the devil incarnate.
In 1984, I was sleeping in the day time because I was working 2nd shift and was up late.
I was awoken quite abruptly from a dream. I dreamed a friend of mine who was a CH-53 Pilot had a crash. He was flying his aircraft and it was filled with men who looked half Japanese like he was.
He was flying along when he flew into a mountain, killing all on board.
His last words were, “Jim! Jim!...Why am I thinking of him?”
It was at that point I woke up, dead awake, sitting upright.
Later the next day, I called my old base, Kaneohe Bay, to squadron HMH-463, his unit he was in before he became a part of a composite squadron HMM-165.
I asked to speak to Capt. John Houston. I was delayed a little, the officer asked who I was. I explained I was a former Sgt, Houston was my friend and I wanted to say hello.
A short pause and he came back on. “Why do you want to talk to him?”
Well, it’s kind of morbid, but I had a dream he crashed!
I heard him whisper to someone, “He had a dream he crashed!”
“Who is this?”
I told you, I am an old Sgt, I was on float with him twice with 165, I am an old friend, is he still with the squadron?
“Are you a family member?”
Guys, I just told you twice who I am, just ask Andeen or Slykernman or Hamilton, they all know me, Hank Tripp was one of our pilots, Ray Sheldon, too
“What happened in your dream?”
He flew into a mountain! he had a bird filled with Japanese soldiers and he crashed into a mountain.
I heard him whisper again, “He had a dream he crashed!”
“Is this a family member?”
Guys, what is going on here? I started demanding, not so pleasant in my voice then.
“Just read the news”
Within two days, there was a report in the news of a Marine helicopter that crashed in Korea, killing about 20 people. This was spring 1984.
In 1988 or so, a former Marine pilot came to work for Kaman Aerospace, a Huey pilot named Stan Grossman. I told him about John and how we used to kickbox in the hanger deck and how I had the dream. Stan paused, excused himself and came back to me 10 minutes later and told me: John Houston died during Team Spirit 1984 in a helicopter crash, killing about 20 people, with a CH-53 filled with ROK Marines.
About 5 years later, another Marine pilot came to work for Kaman, Greg Barnes. I told him my story and he just stared at me, dead silent. Said nothing. I didn’t worry, it sounded amazing anyways so, I just figured he thought I was weird.
About a month later, I brought in my cruise books, showed him the pictures, stopped when it came to Houston, and he looked at me and smiled. He told me the rest of the story of that day.
Greg was piloting a CH-46 that same day, alongside John Houston, they were turfing through cloudy hill tops in Korea in 1984. He saw John fly right into that mountain.
He said to not feel sad, John never would have known what hit him. It was over that quick.
Some might call it a sea story. And I dont believe in ghosts. I do beleive in demons, Angels, and I also know that during WWI, many British held seances after having apparitions of dead loved ones visit their homes after battles on the front.
I just wonder why that spirit chose to visit me in 1984. Even john asked himself, why did he think of me at the time of his death?
True story.
When I was 7 my Grandmother passed from pancreatic cancer. My family had not allowed us kids to see her in that state. Either that summer or the following summer, my family was vacationing in the cottage on the lake that my Grandmother had lived in and left to my Dad and his siblings. We had arrived that day and my sister and I had helped my Mom put away the groceries in the kitchen. Checking out all the kitchen cupboards to see what was there.
That night, my sister and I were giggling and singing, pretty much anything but going to sleep when a glow appeared at the foot of the bed. The glow elongated and formed into our Grandmother. She had on a white nightgown and a white cap on her hair, which was in curlers. The skin of her face was yellow (learned later she had been jaundiced from the cancer). She said “Don’t be afraid” and instantly we calmed. She said that she had come to tell us that she loved us. She also told us that there were Lemon Drops in the kitchen for us.
She disappeared and then my sister and I fell asleep. We woke very early and crept downstairs and went to the kitchen. The second cupboard door we opened, right in front of the stacked plates and bowls, was a bag of Brach’s Lemon Drops. They had not been there when we arrived, nor did we bring them with us.
Years later, we learned that a cousin had seen our Grandmother’s ghost in the basement of the cottage where she and her husband had come for their honeymoon. They had to go to the basement to turn on the pump for the water. My cousin couldn’t remember how to turn on the pump and they had no light. Her husband left to get a flashlight, my Grandmother appeared, and she suddenly remembered how to turn on the pump and then ran screaming from the basement. This was about 8 years after our Grandmother passed.
Ghost stories, yes. Scary, not really, more comforting knowing that she was watching over us.
A couple of months ago I had a dream that I was dating the girl of my dreams. After I woke up, I couldn't really remember her face, but her FULL NAME just stuck out. Thought it was odd, but it kept gnawing on me throughout the day. Well, I decided to google the name later in the day. I was dumbfounded.
She is buried in the cemetery next to my house.
When I was 15 years old my friend Jim and I had been hanging out in his basement playing some rock LPs backwards. This was the early eighties when the “Back Masking” scare was in full swing. We had already figured out you could hear whatever you want in the noise. Still, some of the sounds freaked us out. This set the mood for what would happen later. We left to meet up with some other friends and played games in a video arcade. After that we all pretty much wandered around town.
We ended up out past curfew. Jim and I left the crowd, and headed back to our part of town. We went through one of the areas of town the cops usually didn’t patrol. It didn’t work. A cop stopped us and we told him we were on our way home. To our surprise he let us go so we turned towards a more direct route. It was about 2:00 AM.
We were walking south on Meriman Road towards Michigan Avenue. On our left side was a fenced compound called Eloise. A cemetery was on the right. Eloise hosted the Wayne County Sheriff’s office, a place that served Military Veterans (I believe a clinic with hospital beds) and an insane asylum. We walked on the right by the cemetery.
As we approached the start of the cemetery fence an old man approached. He was short and had an average build. He wore a black wool jacket and plain dark trousers. He had gray thinning hair. Before reaching us he turned and entered the open cemetery gate. I wondered why it was open and why this old guy went inside. I figured he worked there as a caretaker.
We walked on, making the usual cemetery jokes about people dieing to get in. Hey, we were kids so deal with it! Up ahead from around the corner came the old man. We slowed, nearly to a stop. The old man approached us looking towards us as if not seeing us. Before reaching us he turned to his left and walked through the gate. I stopped to light a cigarette and we continued forward slowly. Sure enough, he came around the corner again. I felt annoyed and figured he was coming out another gate around the corner and was messing with us. We passed the gate and we were approaching the corner. You guessed it, again. This time he looked at us intently as he approached. He walked past us and I noticed he was moving stiffly. Again he entered the gate. Jim and I picked up our pace, big time!
We rounded the corner and saw he was not there. Relieved I looked along the fence and noted there was no gate visible.
Turning east on Michigan Avenue, we continued on. In that area, Michigan Avenue is a divided highway thick with bars and motels. It was around the time the bar crowds were going to the 24 hour restaurants.
The sidewalk was clear ahead and we relaxed and laughed about what happened. We turned to walk forward and up ahead, sure enough, was the old man. After he passed us and turned the corner I said, “If I see him one more time I am running across the street. I don’t care whether there’s traffic or not.”
“Yeah, you’ll be right behind me,” Jim replied.
You can guess what happened next. As soon as we saw him, we were running neck and neck into the street. While the traffic wasn’t too busy I think we scared the hell out a few drunks.
We never found out who the old guy was. Jim was sure it had something to do with playing the records backwards. He was never able to explain how it could but he was convinced. I still believe he was just some caretaker who wanted to scare a couple of kids. I have no wish to find out…
Pinging for your expertise...
My husband and I were visiting a rural cemetery in central Missouri where my grandparents and great grandparents are buried. We had our dogs with us and since no one was around, we turned them loose. I hadn’t been there in a long time and couldn’t remember where the Connor plot was. The dogs made a beeline and laid down on my great grandmother’s grave. She must have been a dog lover.
Shoulda just given him the candy when he rang your doorbell.
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He shows up every night actually. Lives under the bed.
Build a platform bed on the floor, then.
See how he likes them apples.
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