The Restaurant Experience
At long last, I would like to share with you a compilation of experiences from my last job, here in the small town I moved to. Before I begin, I would like to make a note that other co-workers and myself have spoken with the owner of the restaurant I am about to tell you about. We have tried to convince him to list the location as a haunted site. He did consider this for sometime, but came to the conclusion that he did not want "undesirable people" to be attracted to his business. I do understand his concern, and I respect his decision. Therefore, I will not be disclosing the name of the restaurant, or the city of which I live (because it is a small town, it would not be hard for people to find this place).
I have also spoken to two of my ex-coworker friends this past weekend. They still work there, and I received updates on any activity still occurring. In the excitement of our conversation (and general catching up) I neglected to ask them for permission to use their names. Therefore, I will refer them as "co-worker 1", "co-worker 2" and "owner", "manager" etc...And now, I will begin.
I moved from the large city of Grand Rapids, MI to my small town in the spring of 2010. I cooked for a college in Grand Rapids, and the students were on summer vacation, so I was collecting unemployment. I had the decision to make whether or not to continue to commute to work from our new home everyday (which would be expensive) or find a new job. I majored in Culinary Arts, and have many years of experience in many areas in the kitchen. Mainly working as a pastry chef, which was the Grand Rapids job, or front of the house. Ironically, the same time we moved, a new restaurant was opening in our town. It was still partially under construction. It was going to serve wine and be on the casual/ fine dining end. I got very excited about this, and decided it was time for me to try working front of the house again. I went for my interview, and was immediately told I would get a second. I was excited for the change. (I obviously got the job, cut out for time).
The restaurant was looking great, though it was still quite under construction. It was to open in just under 2 months. It used to be the old Press building. It had original hardwood floors on the second half, and new hardwood floors (to attempt to match) on the first half. An island bar in the middle of the floor.There was an upstairs, which had a large skylight and they were putting many new arched windows in. Their plans were to turn the upstairs into loft apartments (eventually).
There was also a basement. The basement was definitely different. There were two staircases put in to get down there, on opposite ends of the east wall. Down the middle of the basement was a separator wall, and then there was the "back half" or west end of the basement. There were no lights in the back half for quite a while at first, until they had the time later to add them in. There was a large hole in the ground, boarded up. Even shining a flashlight in the cracks of the wood, you could not see the bottom of this hole. I'm guessing it was for some sort of machinery, possibly an old scale or something to go down into, but I never found out. In the middle of the "back half" of the basement was a small shack. I have no idea what this was for. It was quite small, and only had an old phone in it (that no longer worked). It looked like something out of Texas Chainsaw Massacre, and I kidded the other workers about it frequently. Along the west walls, there used to be tunnels that went throughout our town. They were still open until the renovations took place. Then the new owner decided to have them bricked over. All but one. One was to remain for the owner of the building. He wanted to keep one for a personal wine cellar (the man loved wine). This was down a sort of hallway that (as long as I was there) never got a light put in. I tried walking down this hallway once, but I only had the light on my cell phone. It was so dark back there that I had to turn back, because the light from my phone was being eaten by darkness. The other workers thought I was crazy to walk in there in the first place. And finally, in the very far back end of the "back half" of the basement was a closet. Later, this would become our extra wine storage. The owner of the restaurant felt this would be a good spot to store extra wine, as the basement is cool and you have to walk through the back part of the basement to get to it, which most people, minus myself, didn't want to do. He did put a new door, which locked, on this closet. (I'll draw some rough floor plans and submit them to the story as well, so you have a better idea).
There was also a service elevator that went to all 3 floors. It did not like working properly.From the beginning, people were already talking about the building being haunted: The front of the house manager, and the restaurant owner. Both had experienced something.
The front of the house manager - "I was upstairs sorting through the barware late one evening, and suddenly I was surrounded by loud sounds. It sounded like a man started up the old press equipment! I ran downstairs, and won't go up there again. At least not alone." (Note: Upstairs used to have press equipment before, but it has been long gone. There is still a large drawer system with old press stamps. I went through them one day, and it was most interesting to look at. The restaurant stored extra chairs, barware, silverware, tables and other items that we didn't need upstairs).
The owner of the restaurant would not elaborate on what he saw while it was under construction. But he has admitted to something being there.
I had two experiences:
First experience - I was downstairs. I honestly don't remember what I was doing down there, I was getting something as we stored our napkins, to-go stuff, extra ketchup and whatnot downstairs. I was the only one in the basement. It was a slow day, and we had minimal staff. Suddenly, I heard a loud crash coming from the back half of the basement. The back half had one light at this time, and it was not on. Most workers were creeped out by the basement. They would not be in there in the dark, and I would have seen them walk by me anyway. The crash sounded like someone dropping a bucket full of bricks onto the cement floor. It was loud and solid. Most people said they would have run at that point, but as some of you know, I'm not a runner. I called out to the back room "is anyone back there?" Of course, no one answered. So I turned on the one light that we had back there. (At the time, it really didn't illuminate much. Later we got more lights put in.) I walked around the basement. There were no places to hide that I couldn't easily look in. Like the shack, around the corners and that back closet. Only down that hallway leading to the owner's wine cellar, which had no light. I searched everywhere, and even shone what little light I could from my cell phone into the dark hallway. I saw no person, nor anything that had fallen over that could have made that sound.
I had work to do, so I went upstairs to continue my job. Ironically, that same day, the owner of the building came in. I caught him, and told him "I don't mean to be the barer of bad news, but I heard a loud crash today that sounded like it may have come from your wine cellar. You might want to check to see if any wine fell over and broke". It was at this point that he told me his experience:The building owner - "Don't go down there at 1am! I made the mistake myself years ago when I had a small wine store here. I was doing inventory, and as I was closing up, I reached around back to turn off the light (that used to be there). As I reached around the corner, something grabbed my arm and pulled me toward the back room. I ran as fast as I could out of there, and won't go in the basement at night ever again." (He was the only person in the locked building at the time).
No wine had broken by the way. He did check, as it was afternoon.
My second experience: I was opening one morning. We kept our beer cooler in the basement. We stored our lemons, limes, and oranges down there too, since the bartender used them a lot, and we didn't have a large cooler upstairs. So I went down to get some lemons to slice for the water drinkers of the day. As I was nearing the top of the stairway, I heard the distinct sound of footsteps running up the stairs behind me. I stopped and turned and stared at the empty stairwell. As soon as I looked, the running stopped. I said something stupid like "really?" and just stared for a minute, waiting to hear or see anything. Nothing came, so I went back to work. It was early morning and there were only few cooks and myself in the building. They were all in the kitchen, which was not positioned anywhere near that stairway, so it wasn't any of them. I like debunking things, and I couldn't find any explanation for those footsteps.
I usually opened in the morning. So I would walk the restaurant to check that all settings were in place from the night before. There was always silverware missing. Place settings would be askew, and linens wrinkled. For a long time I figured this were just lazy servers at night, not doing their side work. However, we had so much silverware disappear so often that our owner had to reorder very frequently. I've worked in quite a few restaurants, and this was definitely a high end of missing silverware. We would have repeated Front of the House meetings reminding us all to "be careful with the silverware", "make sure we're not throwing any away", and that "it is important that we have tables set at night for the morning shift". Everyone always swore they did their part. It became a case of whether or not people could be trusted. I became one of the two shift leads. I would make sure that things got done at least on my shift. Things would on occasion still come up missing or askew the next day. 
There was also a time that I got stuck in the service elevator. It was the kind that you have to close the outer gate, then pull up the cord to close the doors inside (they shut from both top and bottom and meet in the middle). This elevator had issues, and liked to mess with people. I was one of the few who would ride in it. As I was riding from the basement to the main floor, it got stuck. I then heard a clattering, tapping sound coming from the walls inside the elevator shaft. This continued for a few moments, as I listened, trying to figure out what it could have been. I started calling out for a kitchen guy to come out, find me, and let me out. It took a moment, but eventually one came to release me. (The elevator could be operated from inside and outside the elevator. The inside wouldn't work for me. He got me out by using the outside controls. I was stuck between floors and the doors won't open until you're in the right spot). I'm not sure what the sound was, but I rode the elevator again since, and it didn't happen again.
Being a server in a small town, I didn't make much money. So I ended up taking my new job and quitting the restaurant. I still like the place, and offered to help out when needed, but since the business was slowing down (winter) they wouldn't need me, so I turned in my uniforms so I wouldn't continue to get cleaning charges. I finally had the opportunity this weekend to see two of my fellow server friends from there, and catch up on how things were going, and any new ghostly activity.
Coworker 1 - "I was upstairs with [the front of the house manager] and we were just getting a few things. That's when we both had the sudden feeling that we were being watched. The eerie feeling continued until we left to go back downstairs. I'm sure there is something in that [restaurant]".
Coworker 2 - "I was the closing server one night, and had finally finished everything out front. So I went to the office to check out with [the owner of the restaurant]. He asked me 'who is out on the floor?' That's when I noticed he was pointing to the surveillance camera, and saw a finger in front of the camera. The finger was pointing directly at the camera and moving in an up and down fashion (like shaking a finger slowly at a person). I said I was the only person here and I was just out there and no one was there. He went to check for a cobweb or anything that could cause the 'finger'. He came back a moment later, saw the finger on the monitor still, and said 'Let's get the Hell out of here'. I didn't have to be told". (Note: the cameras are too high for a person to reach, even if standing up on a chair. The tables weren't close enough for someone to stand on and create that same image. I no longer work there, so I obviously did not see this for myself. Since he does not want to be listed as a haunted location, I cannot get this video clip, despite how much I'd like to see it too. I am taking coworker 2's word on this. Coworker 1 also verified that the restaurant owner told her the same story).
That is the best I can do for now, until I hear anything new. The restaurant itself has delicious food, a great wine list, and just placed one of the top restaurants for this particular area. The best thing about it though, in my opinion, is whatever else is in there
My Visit To Alcatraz
I'm on vacation this week, and my husband and I took a short trip to San Francisco for the sole purpose of touring Alcatraz Island. Just getting there was an adventure in itself, but I won't bore you with the particulars of that leg of the journey.
I never realized the close proximity between the island and the city of San Francisco until we were on the ferry. I can understand how torturous it must have been for those in the D block cells (solitary confinement) to be able to see, and at times hear, the activity of a very much alive and bustling city; so close, and yet: so far. Sounds cliché, but one need only make the trip to comprehend the truth of those words.
While the weather in the Bay Area rivaled that of my current hometown of Las Vegas, an eerie fog rolled over and enshrouded the island. Standing on the landing dock and looking at the sky, we could literally see the fog rolling in the sky overhead. The wind blew constantly, and chilled me to the bone, having forgotten my jacket in the hotel room in Oakland haha. Still, those who weren't suffering the same bout of forgetfulness were feeling the chill as well.Regrettably, we had to opt for the afternoon tour, as the night tour had been booked well in advance. It was an audio tour, and we were each given a headset at the beginning, which I chose not to use. I think I was probably the only one to make such a choice, but I didn't want anything to interfere with what I might hear.
Our plans to visit in the middle of September panned out really well, as I was very appreciative of the lack of children present. Nothing against kids, but they can cause unnecessary distractions. The tour rules recommend that children be at least 9 years old, as it is quite a big place, and younger, smaller children would become bored and restless. The rules are very strict about unruly children, that unruliness isn't tolerated. There were only three children I saw the entire time I was on the island: one baby in a carrier, and a boy in a wheelchair accompanied by his brother.
I mention the lack of children because my first "experience" involved hearing children laughing and playing in the area between the door to the outside recreation area and the mess hall (nicknamed "Times Square"). There, also, is the stairway to the upper floors of the "A" block. I heard them twice as we walked around that area. My research hasn't divulged any reports of child ghosts; but it is a fact that during the Native American occupation of the island during the late 1960's a 13 year old girl fell three floors to her death down a stairwell. The stairwell in question has never been mentioned, but I believe it is the one at the end of cell block A, where I heard the children.
The tour of blocks A, B and C over, we proceeded to the infamous D block. I expected a dark, dreary dungeon-like atmosphere, but was surprised at how well lit the hall was. It was depressing though, since the light was from the nearly two stories of windows that the upper level cells faced, giving the prisoners full view of the Bay and the city. Torture, indeed.
With the exception of one cell on the ground level, all of the cells were dubbed "the hole". Here in D block, many men lost their sanity, and a few their very lives. I won't go into the history of these cells, as Google is a great source for that. But I will say that 14D is known to have claimed the life of one, who, screaming in terror throughout the night that he was being attacked by a demon, was found dead in the morning with evidence of having been strangled. The first cell on the ground floor is just like all the others in the prison. It was here though, that I refused to enter. My husband wanted to get a picture of me behind the bars, but I could not allow myself to enter this cell. Twice he insisted; and twice I said, "F**k that! I'm not going in there!" I felt a fear like I've never known, and a complete aversion to take even one step inside. I did however, go into 14D, and snapped a few pictures. Still had a very depressing feeling, but no fear like the first cell.
On our way back to the landing dock we saw the tiny outbuilding that was the morgue. We got in line to view the inside, and I was really excited. (I have a somewhat morbid side, as I'm sure more than a few of you can relate to!) The outside door to the building has been removed, and a sheet of plexi-glass placed over the opening. The room itself is below ground level, and one can peer through the glass to the room below. Taking any kind of picture through the plexi-glass is futile, as the distortions are ridiculous. There is, however, a small space at the top just large enough for the lens of my camera. So I took two through the glass, and two through the small opening. I think you'll find this series of photos interesting. Some of the emotions I felt as I peered into this hole were: grossed out, sad, happy, lonely, fearful, and finally relief, like I had been set free; all in a matter of seconds.
Scary Experience With A Friend
I'm new to this site and I just wanted to share this people who believe in this stuff.
It happened in 2010 when I went to my friend's house after school. We were on the computer playing games when we heard the bathroom sink start running. We thought nothing of it because we thought it was just my friend's sister. Later on, we discovered that his mum and his sisters had actualy gone to basketball. Then we got freaked out. We went throught the whole house with golf clubs (I know it sounds pretty stupid with golf clubs but incase anyone was in the house). We had found nothing. We had thought it was strange that the tap started running. While we were coming up the hall we had heard footsteps coming up the hall so we freaked out and ran up to the front room and stayed there. We were 12 at the time so it was pretty scary.Another time, we were in the kitchen at his house with the stereo on and a glass jar just fell of the pantry shelf and smashed. Again nobody else was home, it was strange. His mum tryed talking to the ghost and the power went out just like that. My friend claims he sometimes heard footsteps in the hallway. He told me that a couple of months ago a man fell and hit his head on the cupboard and died. Maybe this links in.
Some of you might think this is fake because I'm 13, but this is a true experience that happened to me and my friend. I have always been interested in the paranormal and will post more stories if I have any more experiences. So hope you enjoyed it and tell me what you thought, thanks.
So He Never Left
When I was quite young, about 6 or 7, my parents had finally moved out of the small flat they had been living in since I was born. The house we moved into was semi-detached, but we had good neighbors. My younger brother, who is two years younger than me, was very annoying and clingy. Besides that, everything in the house was fine for a while.
But then strange creaking noises started to come from the stairs, as if someone was walking up them constantly. The boiler in my brother’s bedroom bubbled and hissed when you entered his room, but never at any other time.
Soon we got use to these things as just a part of the house, thinking it probably just needed a bit of TLC to get things sorted. We had been there for a few months and had celebrated my brother’s birthday just a few days before, so all his toys lay on my bedroom floor. My bedroom was where we played, because the boiler scared my brother.
I was sleeping soundly in my bed when a small tap at my bedroom door woke me up. I heard small sobs, which immediately got me out of bed, for I knew it was my brother whimpering at my door. He must have heard me moving out of bed, because he opened my door and sobbingly whispered that he wanted me to take him to the toilet.
I was a bit angry, for he was old enough to go to the toilet by himself, so I said no, thinking of nothing more than how much I wanted to sleep. His sobbing got worse and he clasped my pajama sleeve. "But the man at the bottom of the stairs won’t let me go,” he whimpered.
I froze. What man? I didn't know what to do. I didn't wake my parents in case it was another joke to make me scared – though it worked quite well. I told him to show me the man, so we walked out onto the landing at the top of the stairs and peered though the banister. Nothing. Finally, my brother went to the toilet, even though I had to stay by his side. We went back upstairs and I told him he must have had a nightmare or was seeing things. He grudgingly went back to bed.
The next morning, my brother told my parents what had happened – and to our surprise, they believed him. Later in our stay there, things went missing from my room and items weren't in the same place you left them in when you came back from leaving the room. At one point my mother commented on how cold my room was even though it was summer. Stranger still, my room always smelt of potpourri even though my mother hated the stuff and never bought it. More and more, I had nightmares about being chased, or about things lurking under my bed. But always in my dreams there was a man standing there who would try to help me.
After a bad dream, I often sough my parents’ bed for comfort. Fed up with this, they asked the neighbors if anything like this had happened to their kids. The neighbor said no, but did tell my mother something that changed what my parents thought of the house. We found out from this neighbor that the previous tenants of our house were an old man and his two sisters. It turned out that the man had died in his chair – which had been set in what was now our living room. But what shocked Mum the most was that his bedroom was now my bedroom.
My parents spent the day talking about if our house was haunted; even my father had experienced strange things in the house, but hadn’t told us. We all came to the conclusion that the old man had never left after his death. Maybe he missed his sisters, or maybe he lingered for some other reason. We weren’t sure. It was soon suggested that since only scary things had happened to the men in our house, the ghost must have been very protective of his sisters and was maybe even being protective of the women. My parents decided that we wouldn't move, and we should try and live with it. Soon spooky things became normal, to the point where I would say hello when walking into my room and my brother knocked on doors to rooms he knew were empty. The ghost of the old man never scared us again, but we could all feel his presence. It was a warm presence that was always felt strongly in my room, like a protective blanket.
Three years ago, the house flooded and we had to move. We were sad to leave, and my wonderings if he would move with us were not realized; sadly, he didn't, and now and again when I pass my old house I peer up at my old bedroom just to see if I might catch a glimpse of him.
Thank you, old man. You helped me understand that ghosts shouldn't be feared but respected.
House On The Corner
The house had seven bedrooms, a huge porch that went all the way around the house, front to back. It stood on the corner of Second St and School Place. I know this about the house because I have been there in my dreams or maybe I should say my nightmares.
The first time I saw the house I was walking with my dog. We came to the street where the house stood in all its glory. I thought to myself, "Wow that's the house in my dreams." I wanted desperately to go in and look around. It's as if the house was somehow calling me to come to it.
The windows were so big and inviting, like the eyes to the soul, if a house has a soul, maybe it dose. Is that even possible?
That night I dreamed of the big house on the corner with the big windows and the wrap around porch. As I entered the house in my dream I felt like I belonged there. It's as if I knew every nook, every room, every secret. When I awoke I felt a bit confused I could not really focus on anything other than the house on the corner.
The following day I approached the house and then got my nerve up to knock on the front door. It took a long while and as I was turning to walk away the door opened. There standing in the doorway was a small child with very sad eyes, it was a small girl about eight years old. I smiled and said, "Hello, is your mom or dad home?" She looked at me and shook her head no.
Well, I thought, that's strange for the child to be left alone. But then maybe there was a sitter with her whom she had not mentioned. "My name is Ruby and I wanted to talk to your parents about your house."
"I have no parents, I live here with Rabbit, my guardian. She is in the back yard, would you like me to get her for you?"
"Yes thank you." The little girl turned and walked away.
I waited and waited, it seemed at least a half an hour went by, no one came so I walked around to the back. I saw nothing at all. No girl, no Rabbit, just weeds, a broken fence and a dead garden. Everything looked abandoned, dead. I then went back to the front door and knocked but nothing. No one came.
I left and decided to go to the library to do some research on the house on the corner. After a little while of researching the house I found out that the house on the corner has been vacant for over three years. The family that lived there all died in a terrible murder suicide from the oldest child, a boy that went off the deep end.
I must say I was so freaked out I started to shake and turned as white as a sheet. The man sitting down from me at the same table asked if I was okay. I looked at him and said, "No, I'm not!"
I COULD NOT BELIEVE MY EYES. I now avoid the house on the corner at all cost, because every time I went by, I felt the house calling out to me. Then I would see the little girl in the eyes of the house just staring at me through the window.
Ghost In My Room
I had a very terrifying experience one night. Before I had never experienced anything paranormal and was very skeptical to things that were supernatural. But this night definitely scared me into believing.
It was about 11 o'clock at night when the first strange thing began happening. I had gone to bed around 10 as it was a school night and was dwelling on insomnia at this time. I was getting close to sleep and closed my eyes when my bed began to shake. I didn't know what was happening at first but when I realized it wasn't me shaking the bed I threw the covers over my head like a little kid and kept my eyes shut. The shaking lasted about 2 minutes and then abruptly stopped. I waited a few seconds and then I pulled back the covers and looked around my room. No one was there and it was completely silent. Then my doorknob suddenly started shaking like someone was trying to open my door. It shook for a few seconds then I heard the ping of the brass like the lock had been unlocked. I had not locked my door before bed. The door opened to a crack and then swung back violently and stopped just before hitting the wall. I sat upright in my bed staring at the door scared out of my mind. Then in the blink of an eye a shadow crossed the doorway and went into the hall bathroom. The bathroom light came on and the bathroom door slammed shut. I didn't know what to do so I sat frozen in my bed. I watched the light from under the bathroom door turn off and then the bathroom door open. The shadow whooshed by my door and then my door slammed shut. I immediately threw my head under the covers and began saying prayers that I remembered from my Catholic school days. I didn't sleep the rest of the night and spent the next few nights sleeping on the couch in the living room.
After that night I placed a crucifix above the bed in my room and tried to forget the whole thing. But about a year later during a particularly violent thunderstorm I awoke at 4 in the morning to find the crucifix above my bed turned upside down but still hanging on the wall above my bed.
I don't know nor do I care to know what I saw that night or what haunted my room. I told my parents and they half-heartedly believed me. After I moved out my parents tried to remodel my bedroom. During the remodeling my father was painting the walls when the door suddenly slammed shut. He walked over to the door and it wouldn't open. He tried for several minutes to open the door but it wouldn't budge. Suddenly the lights in the room turned off and he turned around to see a tall dark figure in the opposite corner of the room from him. He fumbled with the door knob and finally managed to open the door and ran out of the room.
He refused to work on the room anymore and they promptly sold the house to the first buyer at a very reduced price.
"True" Ghost Story
This is one of my friend’s cousins. While he and his friend were drive back from Oshkosh on Route 441, they saw a girl ahead, walking with her suitcase heading in the same direction.
They stop and ask the girl if she would like them to give her a ride. She agreed and rode with them. They ask the girl what her name is and why she was out walking in the road at night. She told them her name, and told them she was heading back home from college when there was an accident. That’s why she was walking at night.
They ask where she was going and if they could drop her off there. She told them that her family was going to pick her up near a gas station near the exit of the highway to Appleton. The two boys told her they are also from Appleton. They ask whose family she is, and she told them her parents name and family.
When they arrive at the gas station, they ask if they all could exchange phone numbers so they could contact each other sometimes to talk and hangout. They all exchanged phone numbers. Then they all departed. Later that night when the boys got home, they try calling her to see if she got home safely.
When her mother picks up the phone, they ask if this is the girl's house. The mother answers yes. They ask if they can talk with her daughter. The mother was confused, and asks the boy, “What are you talking about? She died a year ago!” …
The boy got confused and explained what happened on how they met. The mother told them that’s where she died in a car crash.
The Attic
I haven't had many supernatural experiences, though I do believe in the unknown. This one could've been coincidence, then again maybe it wasn't.
I live in a three-story house in the suburbs.
The top floor was an attic that was used as a bedroom which also had a compartment for storage.
My sister, who slept in the attic passed away a few years back.
One night I went up to the attic to get bags( we were going on holidays the next morning). The storage room has a very low ceiling so you have to squat down to get inside. It's lit by one light bulb.
When I went into the room I had to go in quite far to reach the bags. Once I was halfway in, the door shut behind me.I assumed my brother had shut the door to freak me out, so I went to push it open, but it wouldn't move.
I remember there wasn't even any give in the door, rock solid. I started to get kinda nervous.
Then the bulb went out and I was left in darkness.
I was really scared because the whole time I didn't feel alone.
Eventually I forced open the door and got out. I asked my brother to go in and get the bags instead.
Nowadays I try avoid the attic.
Family Ghosts
I will start out by saying, as a child, I grew up in an old boarding house, which my grandmother owned. There were strange occurrences that were felt by all members of the family. For my own personal experiences there, I saw lights from the downstairs sitting room, heard voices and footsteps, and even witnessed a small, glass object as it was lifted physically (and by unseen hands) from the mantle (might I mention, that the mantle sat over a then-boarded-up fireplace).
Needless to say, I am a believer in ghosts, but I also have a good, skeptical brain. Many times, there are normal reasons for our seemingly paranormal events.
However, I have no explanation within the range of normality that describes my experiences in my last home.
At 16, I moved in with a friend's family due to issues with my own family. I had visited her home many, many times before, and had gotten strange "vibes" whilst there. One evening, when we were about 14, she and I were having a phone conversation at night, when she screamed as if she had been stabbed. After a moment of listening to her frantic breathing, I asked her what was wrong.
"I just saw a head outside of my window . . ."
I didn't know what to think for a moment. Meanwhile, she took her cordless phone around the house, wanting me to listen and calm her down as she looked for whoever might be outside. No one was there. When she told her mother about the incident, she offered, "Maybe it was an owl."
However, Kat (my friend) can recall to this day seeing a black figure looking in, with head and shoulders as a visible outline to its faceless form. From then on, she kept her blinds closed.
When I moved in, things stayed fairly usual. Nothing of huge import happened for many years, actually; but when Cat's mom moved out with her husband (to Florida), we were charged with the house. By this point, I had gotten into Paranormal Investigating, and had a small group going. When strange things started to happen around the house, I began taking EVP's.
Now, this is a reminder to anyone getting involved in Paranormal Investigations. Be very careful with who you team up with. My "friends" (who also moved in with us as roommates) were my teammates. After they were forced out of the house via police (they had stolen things from us, and would not get jobs) they took ALL of my audio equipment, and one of my cameras. The EVPs I took during our sessions in the house have been completely lost.
Some do still jump out in my memory.
I will list them for you briefly.
EVP 1
Date: I believe it was roughly September of 2006. I was lying in our bedroom (previously her mother's bedroom) where we had heard a child's laughter before. Here is what I got.
Question: "Are you happy that Paige (Kat's mother) is gone?"
The response that I received was nothing more than a small, somewhat unnerving laugh, and an incomprehensible whisper.
EVP 2
I think this EVP took place around August of 2008. By this time, the so-called friends had moved into the house with us. They had been complaining about hearing Kat and I talking at night. Their room was beside the staircase. We told them that we had not been talking at 3am (as I had work at 9am) and whatever they was hearing was, obviously, not us.
So, before we were set to leave the house for the day, I staged a recorder on the kitchen table. However, the ONLY EVP that we caught this session was in fact while all of us were still on the property. One of the two friends was outside, already in the car with Kat. Myself and the other friend (Jordan) were in the house. I was getting something from the kitchen, when the front door opened and Gary came inside saying, "I forgot my coat." As he was saying this, another male voice, deeper and unlike any other voice in the house (Guttural, to some degree) overlapped the other noises on the recording. It was very clear, and I still get goosebumps when I think about it. The voice said:
"They never took the body."
EVP 3
After this previous incident had occurred and we had listened to the tape, Jordan and I decided that it was time to attempt to communicate. This day, we were at home alone. It was fairly early in the day (around 11 am or so) and the house was uncomfortable. There was a restless sort of energy about the place. We took out our recordings and spoke casually for a long time. We began to hear a banging noise in the bathroom, but remained fairly cool about it. When the noise stopped, we addressed things directly. This was heard both on the recording, and at the time it was recorded.
Jordan: "Was that you, making that banging sound? If it was, can you knock for me? Two knocks for yes, one for no."
Almost as soon as Jordan had given the instructions, two very loud BANGS were heard from the hallway where the half-bath was.
The "Banishing"
As cheesy as it sounds, things got very intense on Halloween of 2008, which I believe was a Friday. I was off work, Kat didn't have classes, and Jordan was not working. The other friend, Gary and Kat's Brother, Mike, were on campus.
Now, it is of note that we were doing nothing of any merit. I believe I had just gotten up (as it was around 10 am) and Kat was still asleep. Jordan was playing his DS on the couch. We both heard, at the same time, very loud banging and sliding noises coming from the half-bath, yet again. The half-bath was in the hall just outside of my bedroom. This experience, I will never forget.
While I did not see anyone's hands on the drawers of the bathroom cabinet, here they were opening and closing, as if someone were looking, very hastily, for something inside of them. It only lasted for a few seconds after I had witnessed it. After I had stood, dumbfounded for a moment, I rushed into the living room and got Jordan, who was looking into the hall with a stunned expression.
That night, we invited a few other friends who were also into these things. We sat down, casually, in the living room and actually, "asked" the ghost to leave. Well, we didn't flat out ask, we asked questions, to which we got further EVPs. Such as, "What are you looking for." To which we got a reply "home".
After we had asked the ghost to either be polite, or leave, things did indeed calm down. We made it clear that we were not afraid, but confused, and that it was welcome, as long as it respected us as we did it.
Nothing ever really stopped. People would still hear the female voices in the stairs and living room (which we did catch on recorders) and sometimes, guests would 'feel' someone watching them at night.
This house was built in 1998, but was placed over the foundation of an old farmhouse which had burned down many, many years ago. The land sits on a lovely, pristine 4 acres, and is probably still occupied by special guests. I have since moved, so I do not know the state of house, as Kat's brother is in charge of its upkeep now. Whatever is there is not intent on hurting anyone, and seems quite happy that we accepted it as just another tenant.
The Lady In My Room
I had just moved to a new house a few months ago. I thought it was nice and comfortable and spacious but within the first week I started hearing loud banging on the walls and doors slamming when I was home alone. I figured it must've been just the doors being pushed by the wind from the fans so I thought whatever.
It continued but only when I was alone so it creeped me out and when I told my parents they wouldn't believe me. They said it was my imagination and to stop making up stories. So for the next few days I tried to stay with someone else in the house. A friend, my sister, or anyone. As long as I wasn't home alone. Nothing suspicious happened when someone else was there with me.
After a while I wasn't too scared anymore because I hadn't heard anything so I stayed home while my parents and sister went out for the night. I pretty much watched TV for most of the night before I heard the banging again. Now I knew it wasn't just the wind. I was vey very scared but instead of freaking out I just ignored it and listened to my iPod really loud so I didn't hear it. That didn't help because that moment, I happened to look behind me to see the shadow of a lady standing in the hallway. She didn't move at all, she just stood in the same position and it seemed like she was staring right at me. The feeling I had was sickening and I felt really tired when I saw her/ it. After about 10 seconds, she slowly backed down the hallway and vanished.
It was the scariest thing in my life. Tell me what you guys think about it.
My Dad Is At It Again
I submitted a story several months ago about a long conversation I had with my deceased father one night. Since then, things have been exactly as he said they would be. Life has gotten harder. But, I think he's doing exactly what he said he would do. He said he would be right there with me.
I have noticed often that when my oldest child (who is 14) is not at home someone walks around in her bedroom, which is right above mine. My second oldest child (who is 8) is afraid to play or sleep upstairs in his bedroom, so he stays downstairs. He says somebody else lives there. When pressed about it, he says he doesn't know who it is, but they have pushed the screen out of his window several times (once when he wasn't even inside the house). He says somebody moves his stuff around his room, so he doesn't want to go up there.
My daughter, on the other hand, is not afraid. She is more accepting of the situation. She also hears someone walking in her room at night. They have knocked over a lamp while she was sleeping, and while she was awake she and a friend watched a heavy coffee mug that is in the shape of a unicorn head move across her dresser and fall to the floor (this happened on what would have been my parents' anniversary). Most recently, she woke up from a deep sleep to the sound of her Elvis Presley snow globe playing music. It wasn't on the dresser where it belongs, though. It was in her recliner. I asked her why she didn't come downstairs or yell for me, and she said she just said "OK, Leon. I hear ya". She is convinced it is my father, and I lean towards believing her because she has talked about a tall, thin man with dark hair since she was able to speak. She used to call him "the red man". She hasn't spoken of him in several years, but she is getting older and she knows it scares me.
Several people suggested that I speak to him to let him know I acknowledge his presence. I have been doing this each night when I lock up the house, but I have only had one personal experience since our conversation. My husband takes my children to school in the mornings so I can get dressed for work in peace. We recently got a puppy, and he is a ball of fire. There is a door leading to the stairs that take you to my two older kids' rooms, and we keep it bolt locked because we have two year old twins who aren't allowed upstairs. Everyone had left for school, and I had just gotten out of the shower and was getting dressed for work. The puppy had somehow gotten locked upstairs and was crying and the sound was irritating me. I intended to go let him out as soon as I was dressed. I heard the back door to the house open and close, then the door to upstairs open (it is very heavy and very loud), and a man's voice say "Titan, come on!" (Titan is the dog's name). I thought my daughter had forgotten something and come back into the house. I knew it didn't sound like her voice, but that was the most logical explanation. I walked into the kitchen to wait for her to come back down so I could make sure she had what she needed, but she never came down. I opened the door (the puppy was already out at this point), and yelled for her. She didn't answer. I walked outside and saw that my husband's car wasn't there. They were long gone. Being the chicken that I am, I threw my shoes on and showed up to work twenty minutes early.
My dad was known to be a prankster in life, and I have been told over and over that my daughter has his personality. I don't know if he has "shown himself" to her for all these years because she is a lot like him, but I think it's pretty neat that she has a bond with him. I just wish I could get over my fear because I really would love to talk to him again. That conversation changed my life.