Posted on 06/09/2002 4:12:34 PM PDT by Hellmouth
Uncle John First of all, I'd like to say that although my family has never been dabbled in any paranormal practices, but we were always taught to have respect for the dead and those on "the other side". When this incident occurred, I was about 10 years old. It was close to midnight, and as usual, I had waited for my parents to go to bed and turned my bedside lamp on and began reading a book. There was motion in my peripheral vision and I looked up rather alarmed and saw my Uncle John standing there. Immediately, I felt calm. I didn't question his being there as it didn't seem strange. He talked to me briefly, telling me that he loved me and to promise to be good. When he ended by saying that he wouldn't be back to see me anymore, I began to cry and ask him why. Right before my eyes, he began to become transparent. Fading slowly, his smiling face began to split, spilling blood onto his plaid shirt. Just as one side of his head seemed to drop to the floor, he disappeared completely. My sense of calm was gone, and I realized what had just happened to me. I jumped from my bed and ran down the stairs to my parents room. About half way down the stairs, the telephone began to ring. I burst into my parents room, out of breath and crying, wanting too tell them what had happened. Instead, when I opened my mouth, I heard my own voice say, "Aunt Mary needs you on the phone!" The conversation was short and to the point. My mother was crying, and Daddy was on the phone, trying to calm Aunt Mary. Later that morning, my mom asked me how did I know Aunt Mary had been on the phone. I told her everything, and she backed away from me as I spoke. Uncle John had been driving down the two lane highway to his farm when his pick up truck was hit by an 18 wheeler. The service was closed casket, his head had been damaged beyond repair. In fact, it had been nearly cleaved in two.
At that moment, I heard something coming up loudly from the bottom of the staircase from the basement. I figured it could only be my brother, who makes a habit of stomping around the house for no reason. I called out for him. No Response. There is a door at the top of this flight of stairs directly across from the bathroom which I heard squeek open and close. I called out again, no response. The stomping continued across the kitchen, I was getting mad and washed my hands. "RICH! I have to talk to you!!!" I screamed but the stomping was getting distant towards the other end of the house. "@#$@! Can't you hear me?!?" and I ran out of the room and started towards the family room at the other end of the house. I was pissed! When I came out of the room I saw what looked like two white triangles dissappearing around the corner into the dark family room, a huge area with three entrances in our home. I thought, White t-shirt and white shorts? I stormed across the house after what I thought was my brother and when I got into the family room which was completely dark I stopped.
Of course there was no one there! I was so PO'd at having been ignored, though, it hadn't really sunk in yet. I would have seen him if he took the other exits because the other rooms were visible as I made my way across the house. What the hell did I just see?
So I went upstairs, still PO'd where I found my brother talking to my mother. I asked him why the hell he didn't stop when I called him? My mom in his defense could see I was flipped out and said "He's been here with me for 5 minutes! Calm down!"
I couldn't, I was still mad. I said "So who the hell was that downstairs?!?" My mother became quiet and my brother smiled and said with a smile, "That's Charlie."
I know what I saw. I was so mad that it just didn't occur to me it wasn't really someone. I was going to punch it at first (not hard, it was going to be a "brother punch".)
This ended up being a far worse situation than I realized, because it really did frighten my mother at times. She had all sorts of things done and there were several incidents which she won't talk about. Rather than acknowledge it, she became adept at denial and wrapped herself in her faith. When the real estate market became strong years later, she sold the home, but the incidents had dropped off significantly by then. She's fine now, down here near us and happy to visit or talk to her grandchildren every day.
So whether you believe in this stuff or not, this happened. Somehow I'm pleased that whatever it was didn't stick around long enough for me to punch it.
BUMP!
#1 rule is, don't be impressed - or depressed - by the experience. Don't make it into anything more than what it is. Don't attempt to find reason or purpose behind it.
Don't assume you have power over the thing. At the same time, surrender to the authority that has already bound it, in the faith that by doing so, you already are above the power of the thing.
Do not do not do not attempt to have a conversation with the thing. Do not ask it for knowledge. Especially do not ask it for wisdom.
If you've got any other people with you beside the person being afflicted and what's inside him/her, be prepared to have your dirty laundry aired out... because it will.
Don't look on this as an affirmation of faith. Because eventually the question will be "faith in what?"
That's all I really know to say right now.
When I was in college, me and two other guys rented a flop in Enfield, CT.
Old brick apartment... two floors. One night, a doorknob from a second floor bedroom bounced down the stairs.
It had to go down a hallway and make a left-hand turn to reach the stairwell.
We were pretty stoned and laughed it off. An hour later, a fire started in the livingroom fireplace... no wood, and not a working fireplace... just a blaze.
Take it for what it's worth.
How ya doin my friend AAABEST.....
Never have and never will go into a cemetary after dark. He!!, I very seldom leave my house after dark.
But thank you for the invite.
"Walking while embalmed"? Please elucidate, if you don't mind :-)
That brother of her's called from California, after not communicating for several years, when my Dad died saying, "I know He has died he came by and told me goodbye last night".
It must skip a generation or something, I'm as tuned into the paranormal as a fence post.
(By the way, does anyone have the link to the story about the "ghosts" or "spirits of the dead" from the 9-11 crash site in Pennsylvania? I had it but can't find it now).
I have a "deliverance" story, Darth, that I will tell when you tell yours. Mine is not as spooky as yours, but just as real.
As far as a common "ghost story" is concerned....my nephew was visiting his fiance's family home in New York a year or so ago. The room he was given to sleep in was sort of down in the basement. My nephew is not the type to be scared by much - so he didn't mind sleeping "down in the basement" and went on down there and fell asleep on the bed. In the middle of the night, he heard footsteps coming down the steps and sat up in bed, thinking either his fiance's mother or even his fiance, perhaps, was paying him a midnight visit.......
However, he could see no one coming down the steps which were visible from his bed.
He rubbed his eyes and asked, who is it.
At the foot of the bed, the mattress pushed in - as if someone were sitting at the foot of the bed...but he could see no one. He KNEW AN ENTITY WAS THERE AND WAS LOOKING AT HIM, THOUGH HE SAW NO ONE. HE "SENSED" IT - KNEW IT TO BE TRUE! So, he sprang out of bed, in a cold sweat by now.
He ran upstairs and called out for his fiance who came running down along with her mother. Again, my nephew (21) is not the kind that is afraid of much of anything. But he was clearly spooked!!!! His fiance and her mother looked at each other and explained:
"Evidently "Charlie" has paid you a visit. ( Charlie was my fiance's mother's father. ) He died in this house somewhat mysteriously - some say he was murdered - in the early 1900's and has been visiting "guests" ever since."
They explained that no one had ever been harmed by "Charlie"...just maybe frightened...at first. People usually hear the "steps" and they often "sense" "Charlie" is sitting on a chair or the bed - just looking at them."
My nephew did not believe in ghosts until this moment. He does now and will never be convinced otherwise.
And, yes, he has been back to visit his fiance's mother's old home - but has not stayed in the basement again. Perhaps for that reason, "Charlie" has not paid my nephew any more visits in the middle of the night......
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