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ON MY OWN WITH THE SHADOW MAN
Submitted by: Glen Coburn
A few years ago, as I was stirring from the light sleep of early morning, the malicious, hushed voice from my youth startled me awake. "Remember me," it whispered , not a question but a taunt. The unsettling memory, the years of violation by this hateful thing stung me with the sense of dread that I lived every night. Throughout my childhood, the presence was heavy and imposing in the light of day but it was truly frightening after dark when I was alone in my room. But I was never really alone. It was always there.
My dad and I moved into the house the day my sister was born so my mother was still in the hospital. The house was full of unpacked boxes and that first night, the two of us slept on a bed with no sheets, no covers. My Dad was closest to the open door of the bedroom and I could see over him, into the darkened hallway. That's the first time I felt it. It was my introduction to the phantom that would be my unwelcome companion for more than a decade and would haunt me for the rest of my life. First, I felt the shiver, the awareness of the unseen presence. And then, the shadow came from around the corner and hovered slowly into the room at the end of the hallway. As I watched it pass, I knew that it saw me. Many years later, when I was a grown man, my father admitted that he had seen it too that night. For all those years, this thing was a part of all our lives but for the most part we never discussed it. Many times, I told my parents what I was going through and that the house was haunted but they ignored me and shrugged it off. They knew the truth all along but for some reason, they refused to get the hell out.
This is not an easy story to tell, not because it's uncomfortable to dredge it up but because the manifestations were varied and made their appearances over a long period of time. Every child shudders at the possibility of the scary guy in the darkened closet or the monster under the bed. For many kids this is a nightly ritual that kicks off a lifetime fascination with the great unknown. For most of my friends in those dreamy preadolescent years, the creepiness of bedtime was the product of a healthy but wild imagination. But for me, it was a perpetual journey into fear described with such conviction that my buddies knew it was true. Most kids who knew me, had no doubt as to the veracity of my claims because of the lingering influence of my supernatural houseguest. I don't know for sure that it followed me around when I was away from the house. But I was never able to shake the taint of the haunting. Even when I spent the night at my grandmother's or at a friend's house, my senses were always on full alert. That heightened awareness of the energy behind things unseen is a gift and a curse that I'm stuck with for life.
The house was nothing special, a suburban tract house, the same age as me. Twelve hundred square feet, three bedrooms, two baths, conveniently located in Mesquite, Rodeo Capitol of Texas. The house had no history. Neighbors had been there before our house was built. They said that no one who lived in the house was very neighborly. They kept to themselves. The only notable thing about the place was that the people who lived there stayed only briefly. Then the house stood empty for a while. Then others would move and stay for a short time and the house would sit vacant. This went on until we moved in and we stayed.
At first, the shadow man was a casual acquaintance but he quickly insinuated himself upon me. He wanted me for a friend. But he wasn't very nice and I didn't like him. During the day, he was an invisible hanger-on that usual stayed up near the ceiling on the other side of the room. No matter how many people were around or how much earthly activity was going on, his sinister gaze was fixed resolutely on me. At night, spooky turned scary immediately when I tucked myself into bed. Usually, at first he would just hang around, waiting for the fun to begin. It was after my parents were settled in and asleep that my bedroom turned clammy and the shadow descended and swallowed up any glimmer of light. The heavy, brooding shroud came down on me as it had the night before and the night before and as it surely would for as long as I could imagine. It was like being weighted, sinking into deep, murky water. The weight pulled me deeper and the pressure of the water surrounding me made it hard to move.
Hushed voices in secret conversation drifted into my room from some ghostly party in the front of the house. The truly frightening experiences took place when I was a little kid, seven to twelve years old. In my bed, in the dark, fingers would poke me in the back. I always slept on my stomach because I thought it would be even worse if I had to tangle with this thing face-to-face. More than thirty years later, I still can't sleep on my back.. Sometimes, I heard soft giggles coming from what seemed like inches away from my ears. And often, it whispered my name. Mostly, I forced myself to remain totally still and quiet as if I were asleep and clue less to the taunting. I knew from the beginning that if I cried out for my parents, they would dismiss the incidents, return to their bed, leaving me to fend for myself. And then the spirit would be happy with himself and give it to me worse than ever. Once during this time period, extremely wrung-out, I cried to my mother, insisting that the house was haunted. She lay on her bed, distraught, face down in a characteristic emotional dither over her genuine hard luck. My mother basically told me that such an idea was ridiculous and to go away. I was certain that she knew exactly what was going on. But she wouldn't admit it for a very long time.
Enduring the personal harassment was the most horrible part of it. But there were times when the thing was more playful than cruel. One time, in the early morning when the room was tinted with a subtle illumination diffused through Sears gold rib-cord curtains, it played a silly trick on me. The matching spread draped over the side of the bed to the floor. This positioning is accomplished by what we call gravity. But in this case, the part of the bedspread that draped alongside the bed floated up bringing it parallel with the top of the bed. At this point, I was a tough sell when it came to being shocked. I just stared at it indifferently as the magic trick continued. This went on for at least a full minute until the covers moved slowly down into their natural arrangement. I remember at the time thinking that maybe it was the ghost of my dog Blackie who met up with a fast moving delivery truck on the street in front of our house a couple of years earlier.
As time passed, I became less impressed with the shadow man's shenanigans. I continued to be scared out of my wits at night but it's just like anything else, you get used to it. One of the luxuries of my youth was a tiny bathroom connected to my tiny bedroom. That bathroom provided the entity more opportunities to shake me up. On my seventh birthday, I was taking a bath. The bathroom door was closed. I was caught totally off-guard when somebody or something started banging on the door and frantically shaking and turning the doorknob. At this time in my life, I was generally too timid to speak up so I sat there quietly until it stopped abruptly. I got out of the tub, dried off and walked down the hall and into the kitchen. I asked my parents what they wanted with me and why they raised such a ruckus. They assured me that it was my imagination and that they didn't hear anything unusual. My sister was three months old at the time so I ruled her out as a possible suspect.
From early on, I started leaving the bathroom light on all night. It didn't seem to deter the phantom's unyielding harangue but it boosted my morale. To undermine the small comfort I found in having the light on, he would intermittently turn it off and on. Sometimes it would be off for an hour and then on again. And one time, he flicked it off and on rapid fire just long enough to get my attention but not long enough to wake my parents up. Over the toilet, there was a chintzy, framed dime-store print of waves crashing onto some rocks. It was big enough to extend the length of the toilet tank and it hung high on the wall by a single wire on a nail driven precariously into the sheetrock. This unstable hanging procedure predisposed a logical explanation in the event that it might fall off the wall. One night when the bathroom light actually stayed on, I lay in bed staring directly at the picture that was squarely in my view through the open door. The little white bathroom was well lit by two sixty-watt bulbs above the sink which was just a couple of feet from the crashing waves. In a slow deliberate move, an unseen hand lifted the picture up off the nail and brought it forward nearly a foot from the wall. It was suspended there for a few seconds and then it dropped, sending the crashing waves crashing to the floor. Of course, my story was again discounted even though the nail was still firmly in the wall and the wire fully intact.
Just about everybody who spent any time in or around the house had some kind of supernatural experience. I remember sitting in the den one afternoon with Kevin, a neighborhood friend. We were hanging out, watching television. We were facing the living room which was so close you could spit at the front door and hit it on a good day. I was focused on Merv Griffin doing his opening lounge act when I spotted some cloudy movement in the front room. My friend, who was less enthusiastic about Merv, was more keenly aware of his overall surroundings. He was seated so that he had a view of the entire living room when he saw a slow moving , white, translucent figure float across the living room. It was mid-afternoon on a clear, sunny day so the room was well lit. But still, the apparition was fully formed and very obvious. Kevin was really freaked-out. He was immediately on his feet, darting around the room, wide-eyed, talking fast and pointing to the living room. My mother was in the kitchen which was a few feet away from where my friend and I were sitting and she was totally unfazed. The kid wanted to get out of the house but it took him a minute to build up the courage to dash through the living room and out the front door. As a teenager, Kevin ended up huffing too much gasoline and is probably unable to corroborate the story. And besides, I don't have the time or inclination to find out what penitentiary he's checked into.
Greg was my best friend on the block. He lived across the street from me and he was the first kid I met up with when my family moved into the haunted house. He was younger than me and I saw him pedaling his kid-sized tractor down the sidewalk. I rode over on my bike and we were buddies from that moment on. Once, Greg and I were playing in my driveway. We had just seen an episode of the Three Stooges where Larry Fine knocked on a wall and somebody knocked back. We decided to try it.
I knocked on the garage door and immediately there was a knock in return. We thought it was pretty funny. Then we heard a crash somewhere inside the garage. We ran around to the side door, expecting to see someone jumping over the fence, into the backyard and sprinting for the alley. Instead, the door was closed. We checked to see if it was locked. It wasn't. We opened the door crept into the darkness. I switched on the light and we looked around to see if we could catch anybody hiding behind some of the garage junk and boxes. We didn't find anybody. We went back outside and around the corner to the garage door.
This time, Greg tried it. Again, the knock was returned. Determined to catch the intruder, we hightailed it to the side door and it was locked. Now, we knew somebody was playing a trick. We hurried back to the front and tried it again and in response, thump, thump. Then, we found the side door standing open. At that point, were becoming more sheepish but we bravely entered to find the light turned off again. I turned it on and repeated the search.
Now, to break the tension, I did my imitation of Don Knotts stumbling through the haunted house in the Ghost and Mr. Chicken. Greg cracked up at the hilarity of my performance as he always did. As a child, I was and continue to be as an adult, a real sucker for anybody who appreciates my humor. So, I was pleased with myself. I was doing my encore up near the big overhead door at the front of the garage while Greg stood next to the side door. Inexplicably, the light started switching off and on. It was certainly not an electrical glitch. It was a switch that made a significant clicking sound when flipped. We could hear the switch as it turn on and off. Needless to say we were spooked but when we caught our breath after racing away, we had a good laugh. The experience never deterred Greg from going into the house again or garage for that matter. Today, he's an intelligent, rational adult with a good job and a family. And I know he would get a kick out of telling the story of the ghost in the garage.
These are the highlights of my experiences growing up in the house. And since I've chosen not to write a book at this moment, I'll move forward in time. When I was in college, my parents finally broke their silence and we began to have long conversations, recounting our stories of the haunting. They described an early occurrence concerning a baby that cried throughout the night. My dad would go into my sisters room and she would be asleep but the crying continued. As he checked every room in the house, the baby was crying in whatever room he found himself. It stopped eventually but the mystery was never resolved. Incidentally, my sister only lived to be ten-years-old. She lived her entire life in that house and never reported any supernatural encounters.
My parents and I shared descriptions of what would eventually become the most striking manifestation. We all saw the same thing although each of us had their own spin. When I was a teenager, I started seeing what I thought to be an entirely different personality from the early, sinister shadow man. This entity appeared as a pale white, undulating form. From my perspective it looked like a hanging plant with tendrils caught in a persistent wind. At night, I would wake up and see it up high in one of the corners of the room. It would slowly move along the wall from corner to corner. Some nights, I would wake up to find it directly above my head. It wasn't at all frightening. I felt like it was watching over me like a guardian angel. This was reinforced by the fact that the scary activity had nearly ceased.
My dad refers to it as the squid or jellyfish. He and my mother saw it frequently, also up in the corners of their room. My mother saw exactly the same thing except that it seemed to be a part of a male figure. It used to stand at the foot of her bed and talk to her. She would wake up my dad and tell him and he would get up and search the house. As soon as he left the room, the spirit would return and continue his monologue. The only thing she remembers for sure was that he often said the words, "First Canada." We still wonder if he was referring to anything in particular or if it was a red herring.
When, I was a little kid having horrifying encounters, my parents admitted that they had seen the shadowy figure entering my room from the hallway late at night. They saw this with some regularity but chose to do nothing about it. Now, I have a ten-year-old daughter and if I saw this thing going into her room, I'd run in and grab her out of bed. And she would sleep in the room with my wife and I until we vacated the house. I
understand that my parents had difficulties, not with each other. but with finances and my sister's illness. Whatever the reasons for their inaction, the insistent taunt of the phantom in my room has effected me for life. Growing up in the midst of a relentless haunting is nothing compared to the physical and emotional abuse that so many unfortunate children endure at the hands of their own parents. But all children look to their parents for protection and rely on them to make the world a comfortable, secure place.
After I grew up and moved out, the activity continued. A few years later when my wife and I got together, we were at the house for a visit. We were sitting on a sofa in a new room that was formerly the garage. Suddenly, we heard a rhythmic banging coming from the laundry room that was on the other side of the wall from us. It sounded like someone had put a pair of wet tennis shoes in the dryer. No big deal. My parents were somewhat uneasy realizing that there was nothing in the dryer and that it wasn't even turned on. My dad went back to check and returned nonchalantly and asked us to come take a look. There was a yard stick placed precisely on top of the dryer. It was perfectly centered and one end jutted out just above the dryer door. It appeared that someone had taken the measuring stick , grabbed it on the end of the overhang and whacked it repeatedly on top of the appliance. The yard stick should have been hanging on a nail by some shelves five feet away from the clothes dryer. Our old friend was having some fun.
The most disturbing event that my wife experienced took place once when we were staying over night at my parents' house. My wife and I lived in Los Angeles and were in town to spend Christmas with our families. That night, we were sleeping in the room that had been my sister's. It was always the least active room in the house. In fact, I moved into it immediately after my sister had died in the room. In spite of the tragic circumstance, moving in was not at all disturbing to me. Good riddance to the hair-raising corner of the house where I had spent most of my life. My wife slept on the side of the bed against a wall underneath the window. I slept on the outside. In the night, she was awakened by what she at first thought was me talking in my sleep. What she heard seemed purposeful but was impossible to understand. Then she began to realize that the voice was much deeper than mine and that it wasn't coming from me. The weird continuous mumble was coming from somewhere on the other side of me, next to the bed. She never slept in the house again.
Just over ten years ago, less than a month before my daughter was born, we were visiting my parents. We walked into the kitchen and noticed a couple of large plastic bowls were sitting in the middle of the floor. My mother told us that the bowls were kept on the top shelf of the pantry which was around the corner, behind a wall and a short step down. She said that the bowls frequently made the move. That night, as we sat in the room that was formerly the garage, I noticed a chilly draft coming from the living room. As I looked in that direction, I felt him for the last time. He was up high on the other side of the room, Looking at me, through me. He knew that I felt him there and it gave him satisfaction. The terrible sinking sensation was back. The atmosphere hung heavy all around me. That was it. I couldn't speak. I could hear the conversation in the room but it was faint and far away. The gloom set in and I had to get out. With some effort, I stood up and held my footing. I faced him and walked toward him and into his space. I was full in his presence and he surrounded me. He knew that he disgusted me and that I hated him but it didn't matter. He would never let go. But I had other ideas.
I was brooding and silent as I stood against the front door. My wife was completely aware of my predicament. She felt the presence too. She got up and came to me. We said goodnight to my parents, got in the car and drove away. She said that my preoccupation with something in that room was obvious to everyone. And that my parents seemed to find it unsettling. She also told me that when she went to the bathroom earlier that night that she felt the shadow man in the back corner bedroom, my bedroom. He stared at her and imposed himself upon her as he always had on me. It was our daughter that he wanted. But I wouldn't stand for it. I told my wife that our child would never be taken into that house. She agreed. The next day my mother called and said that they put the house up for sale. There was no discussion of what had happened the night before or what had happened for all those years. Three days later, the house sold. After twenty-five troubled years in that house, my parents moved out. I never went back to the house. My uninvited companion stayed behind.
BLOOD CEMETERY
Submitted By; Drew K.
My name is Drew, and in late August in 1966, two friends of mine Dan and Tom asked me to go with them to a party on the beach at Lake Michigan. I was about 15 years old at that time. Ghost stories were being told around the campfire by almost everyone their, most of which I had already heard.
As the night went on a young girl about 17 years old started telling a story about a family of Doctor's with the last name of Blood. It was out on Round Lake Rd near Dewitt, MI, about 100 miles from the beach party, but only 20 miles from my home in Lansing. The Bloods had a lot of land where the whole family lived. The most interesting part was that they had a private graveyard on the property and that the whole area was haunted. She said that she saw gravestones that dated back to1800.
On their prom night she and some of her friends decided to go out to the Cemetery. They looked around at the headstones for a while. As it started to get dark the fog hung thick, and a full moon was rising so they started trying to scare each other. Then the young girls' prom date decided to go into Dr. Blood's house because he thought no one lived there any longer. They waited about an hour or so, and when he didn't return they got scared and headed for the Dewitt police department. When they went in to tell the police, the officer on duty said "don't you kids know any better, old Dr. Blood lives out there and he doesn't like anyone trespassing on his property". He also went onto say that he thought "Dr. Blood was harmless and he's in his 80's" so, he didn't think there would be any problem. They all returned to the property, but to everyone's shock when they got back, the whole house were ablaze. The fire department was called, but in vane, because the house burnt to the ground. The next day there was a search party, but the only thing that was found in the rubble were the remains of the young man that had gone into the house the night before. The paper reported that his hands and feet had been bound. Dr. Blood's remains were never found.
One of the searchers that afternoon found a freshly dug grave, when they unearthed it, a pine coffin was found. Upon opening it, they found the body of Mrs. Blood. She was dressed in a red gown, with her arms; legs and head cut off. There had been no coroner's report of a body being buried there, or any police report of any murder.
The girl at the campfire that night said that the ghost of Dr Blood; to this day roams the cemetery at night, with a shotgun in one hand, and an ax in the other.
That night was the last time I ever heard or saw the young girl who first told me about Blood Cemetery, but it wouldn't be my last experience with the Blood family.
My Story
After I returned from Lake Michigan, I told some of my friends the story I had heard, some told me there own stories, about how they had been scared out at the cemetery. Mark said he had seen a ghost of an old man wandering the graveyard as if he was lost. Another friend said that he saw an apparition of an elderly man carrying a body and it appeared to be headless and armless.
Another 2 years would go by, before I got the nerve to visit this so-called haunted Cemetery. You see I never quite believed these "ghost stories", until I saw the most BLOOD CHILLING things myself.
The first time I went there was with Dan and JC. It was a steamy hot July night. The moon was big and full and it lit up the night sky as if it were daylight, the fog was drifting over the Cemetery as it rolled in from the lake. The feeling in the air was electrifying.
At the entrance to the Cemetery were two old rusted iron gates, and hanging above was a sign saying Blood Cemetery. By the light of the moon you could see the old grave stones. Some had been toppled over, and some were broken. The weeds were about knee high. There was a smell of jasmine in the air.
After looking around for a few minutes, I decided to scare the two of them. I had taken one of my mother's old white nightgowns and I hung it from a fence post when I was sure they weren't looking. There was a slight breeze in the air that night and I thought it would look like it was floating in the breeze. Just as I was about to put my plan into action, I heard JC scream. Dan and I went running over, he told us that he had seen a woman's figure in a long red gown. He said that she appeared to be headless and armless, and was coming right toward him, when she disappeared into thin air. I thought that he had seen the gown I had hung on the post. I took Dan and JC over to see where I had hung the old nightgown, and surely what JC had saw was my little joke, but when we got there the gown was gone.
Feeling a little spooked from what JC had thought he'd seen we started our way out of the Cemetery to leave. On our way out I said to Dan, who was quit a bit taller that me, pull the sign down, and we'll take it home with us.
Our night at Blood Cemetery was pretty uneventful, except for the woman in the red gown. We went back to Dan's farmhouse, where he lived with his Mom, Dad, 2 brothers, and 3 sisters. It was late when we got there, so the 3 of us went to bed, after putting the sign on top of Dan's dresser. The next morning when we got up we had breakfast and got cleaned up, Dan told his father about the sign we took the night before. With instant anger, his father demanded to see the sign. But this task proved not to be so easy, because when we went to the bedroom to get it, IT WAS GONE. Dan questioned his brothers and sisters, and they all swore they hadn't seen it, let alone take it.
After a couple of day's, of looking we were sure that Dan's brothers and sister's had nothing to do with the missing sign. We drove back out to Round Lake. When we got to the Cemetery, there it was hanging above the old rusty gates was the sign we had taken two nights before, looking like it had never been disturbed.
Several more years had gone by, when I ran into some friends at a restaurant, on Halloween night. They talked me into going out there again. (After all it was HALLOWEEN) When we got there the weeds were about chest high and the fences were falling down. One of the guys in the group called us over; he was shining his flashlight on a headstone. We couldn't believe what we were seeing. There lying over the grave was a large piece of glass about 6 feet long, and about 2 feet deep, incased in it were a dozen long stem roses imbedded in the center.
Just about that time we heard a shotgun blast. We ran back to our vehicles, and the right side of Dan's car had been shot, and the windows had been shattered. Needless to say we got the hell out of there. With people seeing ghosts, hearing things, and the car being shot up. I swore I would NEVER go back out there again. But I've learned you should (NEVER SAY, NEVER.)
When I was about 26 or 27 years old, I was riding with some motorcycle enthusiasts. It was a beautiful June day; the skies were blue and clear. It was hot, but who cares when you're on your bike. My girl friend Chris rode with me on the back of my bike. She had heard so many stories about the Blood family, she decided to bring a camera with her. We looked around at the rundown graveyard, and Chris was taking pictures, after a few hours we decided to leave, and all of us started down Round Lake Rd. We were about 150 yards from the Cemetery and Chris and I hit a snapping turtle. The bike went out of control and we crashed into a tree. I suffered only minor injuries, but Chris had broken her back, and was paralyzed from the waist down. She was able to walk again after a couple of years, with the aid of crutches. (The curse of Blood Cemetery had struck again)
I've since heard lots of stories since our terrible accident.
In 1989, 2 high school girls were out to have some fun on Halloween night. The news reported that their car went out of control about a 1/4 of a mile from the Cemetery. Their car plunged into Round Lake and they (both drowned.)
The County has now put up hurricane fence around the Cemetery, with razor wire strung along the top.
And I've learned that at least 4 or 5 Blood son's from each generation have become Doctor's for the last 150 years.
And a couple of years ago, Lansing named one of their Halloween haunted house's after Blood Cemetery.
If you're ever out on Round Lake Rd, and you see a full moon rising, DON'T visit Blood Cemetery.
Drew K.
THE DIRT ROAD
Submitted by: John W.
Last year in late July my wife's cousin told me about a place in in Ky. He told me that it was haunted and that he had been there several times at night and he saw and heard several things that scared him each time. He called the place Hatton Ridge I however I am not sure if this is the actual name of the place. I decided that I must check it out for myself. I went along with my wife and 8 of my wife's relatives. I was driving my old pickup truck my wife and her cousin and husband rode in front with me. My wife's aunt, sister, and 4 cousins rode in the back in the bed of the truck. When I got to the place it was just a gravel road. The road was very narrow brush scraped against the side. The road appeared to be nothing more than an ATV trail. I had not driven but approximately 100 yards when my wife's aunt hollered at me telling me that the surface of the bed of the truck went from being so warm it was burning them to sit directly on that it had suddenly got ice cold. As I traveled on I noticed a bird flying low several feet out in front of my truck. The bird then fell to the ground as if it where injured like it had a broken wing. I know I had to of ran over it cause it did not move. A little while later I see bird like the one before flying in front of me in the same manner and it suddenly done the same. this kept happening over and over. We had traveled about 2 1/2 miles down this narrow gravel road when off to my left in a clearing of tall weeds I myself saw some objects moving through the tall weeds. My first thought was deer in the weeds. being a hunter and outdoors man I stooped my truck and opened my door and started to get out to check out the movement. Before I could step one foot out the door my wife's aunt who is a very religious woman who always appeared to fear nothing, started screaming for me to go on that she was seeing transparent figures walking through the weeds. I could tell from her voice that she was genuinely shaken. There was no place to turn around on the narrow road and I was afraid to turn around in the field for fear of getting stuck so I just speeded up straight ahead down the road. I went over a half mile before I came to the end of the road. At the end up on the hill to the right is an old cemetery. Beside the cemetery there was a gravel pull-off that allowed me to turn around. About half ways back out of this gravel road I looked back and could see nothing but an illuminating light that lit up everything in back of my truck. At this point they where yelling for me to speed up. I did not speed up since I was already going way to fast for such a narrow gravel road. In the cab everyone was just scared silent from the reaction of everyone in the back. When I got to the end and pulled back onto the main road I stopped at the first pull-off I could find. I found that every single one of them was crying. They said that there where three men dressed in old-time clothing walking towards my truck when I had stopped. according to my wife relatives they where coming from the direction from where I saw something moving. Everyone in back says they saw the three men. They also said they where glowing an eerie blue color. After this two of the ones in the back seen a man a floating in air with a glowing yellow hat. They said he was waving his arms as if to get us to leave. they then said after I turned around and was leaving that they saw the three men a second time and that they where kneeling on their knees side by side. My wife's aunt described it like they where kneeling like in prayer. Also everyone in back saw two balls of light following us out. One was said to been floating in the air a few feet behind my truck and the other one on further back was bouncing like a ball. I also asked them what was the light I saw that illuminated everything in the back and they said it was the glow from the hat of the man they saw. also on the way out I saw the bird flying in front of me and falling to the ground as described before. Although I never seen any ghost for my self I do believe my wife's in-laws that where riding in the back did. They where totally terrorized by what they saw. They are also very religious people. Also it was a full moon this night. I went back with my brother once a week afterwards and never saw anything. we got out and walked around and everything. I am planning on going back again sometime on a full moon again like the first time I went. Maybe next time someone else will drive and let me ride in back.
MY OWN GHOSTLY ENCOUNTERS
Submitted by: John Jones jjones0269@earthlink.net
My girlfriend (which we will call "Kate") has had "encounters" that can not be explained. Several years ago Kate lived in a farm house in rural Audrain County, MO and she is now divorced. While married and living in the house Kate constantly heard footsteps and cabinet doors opening/closing upstairs when she was in the basement doing housework. She said that on several occasions she felt a warm breath on the back of her neck and felt something brush across her shoulder along with hearing faint whispers. Whenever she went back upstairs or turned around to investigate there was no one there but her. She later told me that she believed the house was haunted. Kate explained to me that there was a family that lived in the house prior to her and her now ex-husband moving in. The previous residents had a 16-year-old son that lived downstairs in one of the finished rooms in the basement. He loved the place so much he did not want to leave when his parents sold the house. He stayed there even after it sold and his parents had moved out. He was forced to leave the day Kate and her ex were moving in. Two weeks later the 16-year-old boy was killed in a car accident...
Kate has also had experiences at work (there have been many strange occurrences at work witnessed by other employees as well)...Just the other night Kate was on a catwalk (an elevated walkway) working on one of the machines. Kate said that someone put their hand on her back and pushed her forward (a weak push, nothing really strong)...and when she turned around she was alone. It would be impossible for someone to approach you on this catwalk without being seen, as it is only wide enough for one person and you can see anyone approach from at least 20 feet in either direction. You could not reach someone's back from floor level either due to how high the person on the catwalk would be standing. You can tell by the expression on Kate's face when she recounts the stories to you that she is not lying and all the experiences frighten her somewhat.
John D. Jones
jjones0269@earthlink.net
HAUNTED GRAVEYARD
Submitted by: B.
A few of my friends and I like to go ghost hunting we go to graveyards to see if we can get a look at a ghost. about three or four nights after Halloween 2003 we went looking in a grave yard in the country, in Clay county Missouri, north of Excelsior Springs, the grave yard was called Siegle cemetery, on siegle cemetery road, we got out of the trucks and walked up the stairs walked around for about 15 minutes and we saw head lights coming down the road. we were worried someone called the cops on us. sow hid behind the tree, when the car went by. It looked to be a vehicle from the 40's there were two people in the car they looked like they were from the same time period as the car. one of my friends walked out toward the road, and the car vanished. we were all freaked out so we went to leave we were the last ones to leave as we started down the road we noticed headlights behind us, so we stopped and when we did the headlights were gone, so we went back to see if someone was back there we seen nobody, so we took off again and head lights appeared we noticed there was no dust being stirred up from the vehicle. we stopped and it was gone again. we went back two more times. every time except the last time we seen head lights.
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