Ghost Stories and Weird Happenings

[Cooking Goddess]

1) My great aunt lived with us from when I was in 2nd grade until her death the summer after I graduated high school. We were close. She was my Nana since I had never had grandparents. Towards the end, she had trouble getting up from a sitting position, always needing help when rising from her bed or the toilet. Fast-forward to a Saturday a month or two after Nana's death. My Mom and Dad both worked on Saturdays, my aunt who lived with us was off for her weekly appointment with her beautician (I was an only child, totally outnumbered by adults), and I was reading the paper at the kitchen table. Suddenly, I (thought I) heard Nana call out from the bathroom for help. I got up, walked into the small hallway near the back of the house that was the hub for doorways in five different directions (kitchen, bathroom, Nana's room, dining room, and stairway to the second floor), and glanced into Nana's bedroom on my way into the bathroom - everything was status quo. Of course she wasn't in the bathroom, but when I walked out her butt print was on her bed as if she had just stood up. Again, I was alone. I wasn't scared - after all, she was my Nana!

2) Every once in a while I can smell traces of Winston cigarette smoke in the house. It's happened here and in our last house. However, no one has ever smoked in any of our homes, ever, unless they were the contractors building the houses before we moved in. But no, I smell fresh smoke. Dad smoked Winston's. I figure he's been following us around because he and Mom visited regularly when they were alive...just not here in MA. Neither of them was alive when we moved from OH.

Same thing with coffee. Mom made it very early (about 4:00 AM) when Dad worked, but not until around 9:00 AM or so after he retired. I'm first up in our house, and nowhere near as "early" as 9:00 AM. (Hey, don't judge! ). However, on occasion I'm awakened briefly by the smell of fresh coffee brewing around 9 or 9:30 AM. I guess whoever brews it then drinks it up and cleans up, since I've never had a cup of the stuff waiting for me by the time I get downstairs.

 

[CubsGal]

My apologies if I upset you, that wasn't my intent.

Oh, no! You didn't upset me at all. I really just cannot believe in ghosts, no matter how exciting the idea might be, and as much as I enjoy reading all these stories. I was just trying to make that clear without upsetting you, since you obviously do believe. I don't want anyone to think I'm making fun of them or belittling them for believing. I just think it's all in our heads.

Then there's this:

 

[CraigC]

If you are watching Shark Week, my buddy was shooting some photos of some rare shark relatives for Discovery. I won't give the species away. He told me that he and another camera man were on the bottom, on their knees. They use U/W, voice comm. He was looking at the other camera man and saw his eyes get as big as saucers. Then he felt something brush him and then a blast of water hit him like prop wash. He told the other guy, "I don't even want to know what that was! Lets just finish the shoot and get the hell out of here." It was caught on film and hopefully won't be edited out. BTW, if you have ever seen the documentary "The Cove", my buddy won an Oscar as part of the cast/crew.

 

[Steve Kroll]

I think it takes 12 months before they start messing with you. They are just hanging out and figuring out your weaknesses. :grin:

Could be. Or maybe I scare them more than they scare me.

 

[CubsGal]

If you are watching Shark Week, my buddy was shooting some photos of some rare shark relatives for Discovery. I won't give the species away. He told me that he and another camera man were on the bottom, on their knees. They use U/W, voice comm. He was looking at the other camera man and saw his eyes get as big as saucers. Then he felt something brush him and then a blast of water hit him like prop wash. He told the other guy, "I don't even want to know what that was! Lets just finish the shoot and get the hell out of here." It was caught on film and hopefully won't be edited out. BTW, if you have ever seen the documentary "The Cove", my buddy won an Oscar as part of the cast/crew.

Do you know which show it was being taped for? Did they figure out what it was afterwards?

 

[Rparrny]

If you are watching Shark Week, my buddy was shooting some photos of some rare shark relatives for Discovery. I won't give the species away. He told me that he and another camera man were on the bottom, on their knees. They use U/W, voice comm. He was looking at the other camera man and saw his eyes get as big as saucers. Then he felt something brush him and then a blast of water hit him like prop wash. He told the other guy, "I don't even want to know what that was! Lets just finish the shoot and get the hell out of here." It was caught on film and hopefully won't be edited out. BTW, if you have ever seen the documentary "The Cove", my buddy won an Oscar as part of the cast/crew.

NO FAIR! I love shark week but maybe I missed it. What show was it? Maybe I can find it on demand. Don't keep us in suspense...spill!

 

[CraigC]

The episode airs Friday night at 10:00 PM. Some of the scenes with the "intruder" are in it. Because filming was off a very popular beach area on Florida's east coast, the scenes with more aggressive behavior of the "intruder" were edited out.

 

[CubsGal]

The episode airs Friday night at 10:00 PM. Some of the scenes with the "intruder" are in it. Because filming was off a very popular beach area on Florida's east coast, the scenes with more aggressive behavior of the "intruder" were edited out.

Is that 10 EST?

 

[Rparrny]

The episode airs Friday night at 10:00 PM. Some of the scenes with the "intruder" are in it. Because filming was off a very popular beach area on Florida's east coast, the scenes with more aggressive behavior of the "intruder" were edited out.

UGH! Friday is the Sabbath...no TV.
Maybe I can find it on demand after...

 

[taxlady]

My ex-dh and I bought house that was about a hundred years old. One day I asked him if he ever saw the ghost cat on the stairs, the kind you only see out of the corner of your eye. He said no, but he sometimes saw ghost mice in the kitchen. I had seen those too. We thought maybe there were live mice, but even with searching, we never found any mouse poop or other mouse sign. We wondered if the ghost cat ever chased the ghost mice.

 

[Rparrny]

My ex-dh and I bought house that was about a hundred years old. One day I asked him if he ever saw the ghost cat on the stairs, the kind you only see out of the corner of your eye. He said no, but he sometimes saw ghost mice in the kitchen. I had seen those too. We thought maybe there were live mice, but even with searching, we never found any mouse poop or other mouse sign. We wondered if the ghost cat ever chased the ghost mice.

Ghost mice...well that's a first for me. Living in the woods, mice are always an issue once the weather gets cold and they sure do leave a lot of evidence when they are around.
Gee, I wonder if a ghost pepper stuffed with peanut butter could trap em

 

[Katie H]

When Buck and moved to Kentucky in 1994 we moved into a 3-story Queen Anne Victorian house that was built in 1880. By the time we bought it, we were only the third owners of the place.

It was huge, and I mean huge. All in all, there were 52 windows in the place. No wonder I had difficulty finding places to hang pictures/artwork. But, since it was built during that time, there was no air-conditioning and they utilized windows everywhere, along with transoms over nearly every door. Even on the hottest days it was somewhat comfortable. Didn't hurt that it was perched on a tall hill, which caught the breezes.

At any rate, after we'd lived there for some months, I began to sense that we weren't alone in this big house. I've had other "feelings" throughout my life and I've come to trust my instincts.

One fall day, a little old lady knocked at our breakfast room door. She was spry and nattily dressed in a light coat and a beret perched at an angle on her small head.

She explained that the house had been her childhood home and wanted to see who had moved into it. We were delighted to meet her and had a million questions about the house and some of the things we'd discovered about it. The previous owners never lived in it. Just bought it to "flip," so we were curious about some things that just didn't fit with its age and architecture.

She hobbled through the house with us and negotiated the two staircases like a champ. Told us her parents had their wedding picture taken at the base of the first floor staircase, which was a beautiful curved walnut structure.

She answered our multitude of questions and said she was glad someone who appreciated something like the house had moved into it and, her parting words were, "And be nice to the ghost."

Her comment only reinforced what I'd felt since we first crossed the threshold of this beautiful piece of history. Now, I was certain we had company in our lovely old house.

As the days passed, several unusual things happened, but only in or near the first floor hallway from the front door to the room we used as the family room, which was at the end of the hallway directly in line from the front door. This juxtaposition is important.

There were were 5 doors in this entryway/hallway. The front door, two doors into the large living room, one door into the dining room and the door leading to the family room.

One of the two doors belonging to the living room was a bear to open. Most of the time I had to lean into it with my shoulder and slam into it. The other door was easily opened. In this living room, in the 3-window bay area, I had an original Gone with the Wind lamp. One of my prized possessions that Buck gave me for Christmas many years before we moved to this house.

Just inside the front door we kept a fairly large oriental-type rug. The entryway was quite large. Approximately 12- x 15-feet. Told you it was a big house.

At any rate, from time to time, the "tough" door to the living room would be found open. I'd close it and several days, or even hours, it would be open again. Happened many times when I was alone in the house. In addition to opening the door, lights would get turned on for no apparent reason. The GWTW one especially.

One day Buck took our three dogs out for a walk. While he was gone I busied myself with folding laundry on the table in front of the sofa in the family room. I had a perfect straight-line view down the main hall to the front door.

I saw him step up the one step to the porch, move to the front door, open the screen door and reach for the front door knob. The front door was a full glass door so we could see each other clearly, along with what was in the entryway.

As he opened the door, I noticed a strange look on his face and observed that the dogs, usually excited to enter, were hesitant. Buck was looking downward with a surprised look.

I followed his gaze and watched as the rug on the floor inside the door rotated nearly 90 degrees. NO ONE had even come through the doorway yet.

We continued to, um, enjoy the shenanigans of our visitor the entire time we lived in the house, almost 20 years. The occurrences took place mainly in the spring and upon investigation, we learned that the second owner of the home (a Mr. Harlan) had died in the living room...in the spring.

From that time we affectionately referred to our visitor as "Harlan." He was never disruptive and nothing was ever damaged or broken. I told him we would get along just fine as long as he respected our many antiques, especially my coveted lamp.

We were only able to speak with our little old lady visitor a few more times before she moved very far away. I bought up her comment about taking care of the ghost and she acted as though we'd imagined it.

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!
​

 

[CraigC]

Is that 10 EST?

EDT, since we won't be back on EST until fall.

 

[CubsGal]

EDT, since we won't be back on EST until fall.

Sorry, I wasn't even thinking about the time of year. I always refer to it as EST; EDT or EST, it's still an hour ahead of where I live, which is the important part for me. Thanks for clarifying. I'm definitely going to try to watch.

 

[Just Cooking]

When Buck and moved to Kentucky in 1994 we moved into a 3-story Queen Anne Victorian house that was built in 1880. By the time we bought it, we were only the third owners of the place.

It was huge, and I mean huge. All in all, there were 52 windows in the place. No wonder I had difficulty finding places to hang pictures/artwork. But, since it was built during that time, there was no air-conditioning and they utilized windows everywhere, along with transoms over nearly every door. Even on the hottest days it was somewhat comfortable. Didn't hurt that it was perched on a tall hill, which caught the breezes.

At any rate, after we'd lived there for some months, I began to sense that we weren't alone in this big house. I've had other "feelings" throughout my life and I've come to trust my instincts.

One fall day, a little old lady knocked at our breakfast room door. She was spry and nattily dressed in a light coat and a beret perched at an angle on her small head.

She explained that the house had been her childhood home and wanted to see who had moved into it. We were delighted to meet her and had a million questions about the house and some of the things we'd discovered about it. The previous owners never lived in it. Just bought it to "flip," so we were curious about some things that just didn't fit with its age and architecture.

She hobbled through the house with us and negotiated the two staircases like a champ. Told us her parents had their wedding picture taken at the base of the first floor staircase, which was a beautiful curved walnut structure.

She answered our multitude of questions and said she was glad someone who appreciated something like the house had moved into it and, her parting words were, "And be nice to the ghost."

Her comment only reinforced what I'd felt since we first crossed the threshold of this beautiful piece of history. Now, I was certain we had company in our lovely old house.

As the days passed, several unusual things happened, but only in or near the first floor hallway from the front door to the room we used as the family room, which was at the end of the hallway directly in line from the front door. This juxtaposition is important.

There were were 5 doors in this entryway/hallway. The front door, two doors into the large living room, one door into the dining room and the door leading to the family room.

One of the two doors belonging to the living room was a bear to open. Most of the time I had to lean into it with my shoulder and slam into it. The other door was easily opened. In this living room, in the 3-window bay area, I had an original Gone with the Wind lamp. One of my prized possessions that Buck gave me for Christmas many years before we moved to this house.

Just inside the front door we kept a fairly large oriental-type rug. The entryway was quite large. Approximately 12- x 15-feet. Told you it was a big house.

At any rate, from time to time, the "tough" door to the living room would be found open. I'd close it and several days, or even hours, it would be open again. Happened many times when I was alone in the house. In addition to opening the door, lights would get turned on for no apparent reason. The GWTW one especially.

One day Buck took our three dogs out for a walk. While he was gone I busied myself with folding laundry on the table in front of the sofa in the family room. I had a perfect straight-line view down the main hall to the front door.

I saw him step up the one step to the porch, move to the front door, open the screen door and reach for the front door knob. The front door was a full glass door so we could see each other clearly, along with what was in the entryway.

As he opened the door, I noticed a strange look on his face and observed that the dogs, usually excited to enter, were hesitant. Buck was looking downward with a surprised look.

I followed his gaze and watched as the rug on the floor inside the door rotated nearly 90 degrees. NO ONE had even come through the doorway yet.

We continued to, um, enjoy the shenanigans of our visitor the entire time we lived in the house, almost 20 years. The occurrences took place mainly in the spring and upon investigation, we learned that the second owner of the home (a Mr. Harlan) had died in the living room...in the spring.

From that time we affectionately referred to our visitor as "Harlan." He was never disruptive and nothing was ever damaged or broken. I told him we would get along just fine as long as he respected our many antiques, especially my coveted lamp.

We were only able to speak with our little old lady visitor a few more times before she moved very far away. I bought up her comment about taking care of the ghost and she acted as though we'd imagined it.

That's my story and I'm stickin' to it!
​

While reading this, a rather ghostly rendition of The Twilight Zone theme song traveled through my mind..

Ross

 

[PrincessFiona60]

Mom's house in Laramie was three levels with the third level directly over the lowest level...kinda like a sandwich with the middle squished out. The third level windows were 15 feet high. The stair landing was at my bedroom door. I began hearing footsteps on the stairs and naturally I would count them (there were 15 steps)...15, 16, 17, 18....scream!!!!! Raised the whole house.

Then my bedroom doorknob began rattling, I'd creep to the end of my bed and pull it open...no one there. Scream!!! (early teen girls scream a lot)

One night I looked out my bedroom window (15' up) and there was a bearded man looking in. Oddly, he did not scare me and his face faded away. I never heard foot stpes on the stairs or hear/see the doorknob rattle after this encounter. I continued to see the man's face occasionally, never scared me. The last time I saw him was after I met Shrek.

Several years later, Grandma and I were digging through some old pictures. I handed one to her, a young man with a beard, and asked her who he was. "That was your Grandfather before we married." It was his face I had been seeing in my teen years. I was the only Grandchild he knew.

 

[rodentraiser]

The thing that really got me interested in ghosts was something that happened when I was about 14.

I was staying with my grandmother over the summer and around the corner from her, there were some friends of hers who were going to Europe for about 6 weeks. They wanted someone to stay in their house and take care of the dog during that time and asked if I would do that. At the last minute, the dog was given away, so I would be alone in the house while I stayed (remember, the house was around the corner from my grandmother, and this was the 70s when it wasn't considered child endangerment if a 14 year old stayed by herself).

The friends of my grandmother going to Europe were a widow and her teenage daughter. Her two grown sons were away in college. The house they lived in was one of those old narrow houses. There were two bedroom on the main floor and a staircase went up to a finished attic, where the two boys had slept. The mother told me I could go up there and look at their books if I wanted to.

So they leave, and I stayed there, sleeping in the daughter's room, and a couple of days later I decided to go upstairs to the attic to look at the books. You had to open a door to go up the stairs to the attic. The stairs came out at one end of the attic and you had to go around the stairwell to get to the other end where the boys' space was. The attic also had kneewalls, so in going around the stairwell, you also had to go past the kneewalls as well.

The first time I went up there, I noticed a door cut into the kneewall. You know, one of those 2' x 2' doors with a hook and eye latch to allow access to storage behind the kneewall. I noticed the door because it was open and I had to squeeze by it. I meant to close it on the way down because I didn't want anyone to think I had been snooping through the house.

But after looking at and choosing several books to read, I can't remember if I shut it or not on my way down.

So after I finished reading those books, I brought them back upstairs to get some more. I was annoyed to see the door in the kneewall still open and this time on the way down with a couple more books, I know I closed that door and dropped the hook into the latch. When I finished the second set of books I brought those upstairs, came around the stairwell, and that door was open again.

From where I stood, I threw those books across the floor onto the bed, flew back downstairs and slammed the door shut. I felt perfectly safe downstairs, but didn't go back upstairs again while I was there.

When the mother and daughter came home, I was helping them unpack and listening to them talk about what they had seen. At one point I asked the mother if the house was haunted. I must have been very casual about it, because she never asked me why I wanted to know.

But she said that before her daughter was born and before the attic was finished over, her sons slept downstairs and she used to hear footsteps walking around in the attic. She said she used to wake her husband because she was afraid someone had broken in, but her husband just told her it was squirrels. "But," she told me, "I know it was footsteps."

We weren't able to talk any more about it and she never asked why I wanted to know and I never pursued it again. Now I wish I had.

 

[rodentraiser]

No kidding, as I was drifting off thinking of my next story to tell, the baby squirrels began a game of walnut hockey on the deck roof scaring the stuffing out of me.

You haven't heard walnut hockey until the raccoons play it on your roof!

 

[rodentraiser]

Oh, heck, I decided to throw in one more ghost story that isn't mine, but is still very interesting:

https://www.flightglobal.com/news/a...-tales-of-haunted-hangars-and-phantom-211155/

 

[CraigC]

Sorry, I wasn't even thinking about the time of year. I always refer to it as EST; EDT or EST, it's still an hour ahead of where I live, which is the important part for me. Thanks for clarifying. I'm definitely going to try to watch.

So, did you watch? "Moondog" is my bud and owns Moondog Dive Outfitters, which I work part time for. We've worked together since the mid-'90's. They cut out a lot of the scenes with "Jenny", the tiger shark. She destroyed Greg's camera while the divers were doing their "Deco" stop. About two weeks after they were done filming off Jupiter, she bit off a guys hand. There are a couple of dive operators that offer "shark feeding trips" in the area, so "Jenny" hangs around.