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Do you know how I got this scar?
My grandfather was a very nice man, but he was very serious. It wasn’t that he was mean or anything; he just never kidded around. I’m telling all of this because the story he told to me and various family members on several occasions is so strange that reading it you might think he was just joking. Well, believe me, my grandfather never joked around so I take it to be a true story. And whenever he told it, it always started out the same way - “Do you see this scar and this dent in the middle of my forehead? Do you know how I got that? …”.
When my grandfather was in his teens, his father died. Time passed, and his mother did the best she could raising him and his brothers by herself. Several months later, my grandfather came home from school and he was alone in the house. He grabbed a snack from the kitchen, then headed upstairs to his room. The layout of the top floor of the house was such that he had to pass his parents' room in order to get to his room down the hall. My grandfather bounded up the stairs and turned left to head down the hallway. The doorway to his parents' room was open. As he passed, he looked into the room and stopped dead in his tracks. Sitting at a card table in the corner of the bedroom was his father. On the table were cards. It looked as if he was playing solitaire, something he often did in life. His father looked up at him and flashed a big beaming smile. He looked very much alive, and happy to see his son.
Now, in books you’ll read that people are usually overjoyed at seeing their loved ones again, but my grandfather reacted differently. He was terrified! My grandfather did what most frightened teenaged boys would do - he ran! He ran back down the hallway and down the stairs. He didn’t get very far, though. He tripped on one of the steps near the top of the staircase and fell down the entire flight of stairs, knocking his head full-force on the corner of a table at the bottom. The blow was so strong that he was nearly knocked unconscious, and blood poured from a gash in the center of his forehead. When it eventually healed he had a deep scar and a small dent where his head had struck the corner of the table, and it remained until the day he died.
I believe this story that my grandfather told me, not only because he was such a serious man, but because he reacted in a way that any teenage boy would have reacted. I also believe him because he told the story so often and with all of the same details that it was obviously something he never forgot and that effected him deeply. And his story is one that I will never forget.
My grandfather was a very nice man, but he was very serious. It wasn’t that he was mean or anything; he just never kidded around. I’m telling all of this because the story he told to me and various family members on several occasions is so strange that reading it you might think he was just joking. Well, believe me, my grandfather never joked around so I take it to be a true story. And whenever he told it, it always started out the same way - “Do you see this scar and this dent in the middle of my forehead? Do you know how I got that? …”.
When my grandfather was in his teens, his father died. Time passed, and his mother did the best she could raising him and his brothers by herself. Several months later, my grandfather came home from school and he was alone in the house. He grabbed a snack from the kitchen, then headed upstairs to his room. The layout of the top floor of the house was such that he had to pass his parents' room in order to get to his room down the hall. My grandfather bounded up the stairs and turned left to head down the hallway. The doorway to his parents' room was open. As he passed, he looked into the room and stopped dead in his tracks. Sitting at a card table in the corner of the bedroom was his father. On the table were cards. It looked as if he was playing solitaire, something he often did in life. His father looked up at him and flashed a big beaming smile. He looked very much alive, and happy to see his son.
Now, in books you’ll read that people are usually overjoyed at seeing their loved ones again, but my grandfather reacted differently. He was terrified! My grandfather did what most frightened teenaged boys would do - he ran! He ran back down the hallway and down the stairs. He didn’t get very far, though. He tripped on one of the steps near the top of the staircase and fell down the entire flight of stairs, knocking his head full-force on the corner of a table at the bottom. The blow was so strong that he was nearly knocked unconscious, and blood poured from a gash in the center of his forehead. When it eventually healed he had a deep scar and a small dent where his head had struck the corner of the table, and it remained until the day he died.
I believe this story that my grandfather told me, not only because he was such a serious man, but because he reacted in a way that any teenage boy would have reacted. I also believe him because he told the story so often and with all of the same details that it was obviously something he never forgot and that effected him deeply. And his story is one that I will never forget.
Shadow People
The subject of shadow people is a fascinating one. I have received reports of very small, dwarf-like shadow figures who were seen running quickly out of a room. Other shadow people have been reported as being either of average height, or extremely tall. Some are seen wearing hats, anything from top-hats to fedoras, while others show themselves as hooded figures or even animals. In all cases they are solid black, and there is often a feeling of negativity or even evil when they are sighted.
The following chilling true shadow figure story was submitted by S.M. from Michigan.
One night when I was about 7 years old I woke up during the night. At first I thought that a bad dream might have woken me up. But that wasn’t it. Something just wasn’t right. I felt as though someone was in the room staring at me. I looked around the room and was shocked to see what I now know to be a shadow person standing directly in front of my dresser. My room wasn’t totally dark, but the shadow man standing there was pitch black.
My dresser had a mirror attached to it, and the shadow figure blocked both the dresser and the mirror. It was very human looking. I would say it was somewhere between 5’ 7” and 6’ tall, seeing it was about the same height as a normal human male. Apart from the fact that it was completely black, there was nothing unusual about its appearance. It had a normal sized head, arms and legs. I didn’t see much of its feet, but wasn’t really paying attention. I was more concerned with what he might do with what he was holding in his hand — A knife about the size of a large kitchen knife. He was holding the knife in his right hand, and holding it down on his right side so that it was close to his thigh. The tip of the knife was pointed down toward the floor.
Obviously, I was very frightened to see this thing standing in my room in the middle of the night so I called for my mom. When she came into the room I became even more frightened because she didn’t seem to see this figure standing there. She walked right past it as if it wasn’t there at all! The dark figure never moved, even when she walked by it, which I found terribly scary at the time. Now that I’m older it makes me wonder why this thing stayed so still.
Seeing how frightened I was, my mom stayed in the room with me. All the while she was with me I never told her what I was seeing. I thought about it multiple times but never actually told her. First of all, I was so scared I couldn't even get words out of my mouth. And secondly, I thought that if I did tell her it might attack us in some form or another. Despite how young I was I could tell that it was VERY negative. Although I didn't understand it at the time, the way that it made me feel only caused me to be more afraid of it. As best I can remember, it took about an hour or an hour and a half for the shadow figure to go away. It either faded out into the air, or it ran out of the room - I can’t recall which.
My second sighting of a shadow figure happened after a night of Trick-or-Treating when I was 10 years old. I went to bed at the regular time that night, but after about 40 minutes of trying to sleep I got bored. I sat up in bed and looked around the room. This will sound really strange, and it was hard for me to accept at the time, but walking in the air toward me was the black shadow figure of a cat! I tried closing my eyes hoping that it would go away, but somehow I could still see it even with my eyes closed. After about 8 minutes of keeping my eyes shut and still seeing this cat I finally realized that keeping my eyes closed didn't matter, so opened them again and saw this shadow cat walking right towards my face. I watched it walking in the air toward me from about halfway from the foot of my bed to the middle of it before it finally disappeared. I remember being afraid that the shadow man would show up again, but thankfully he never did.
I recently asked my mother if she remembered that night I saw the shadow man, and she said that she did. How much she remembered I can't say, but she did remember coming in my room and staying with me for over an hour because I was so afraid of something.
The subject of shadow people is a fascinating one. I have received reports of very small, dwarf-like shadow figures who were seen running quickly out of a room. Other shadow people have been reported as being either of average height, or extremely tall. Some are seen wearing hats, anything from top-hats to fedoras, while others show themselves as hooded figures or even animals. In all cases they are solid black, and there is often a feeling of negativity or even evil when they are sighted.
The following chilling true shadow figure story was submitted by S.M. from Michigan.
One night when I was about 7 years old I woke up during the night. At first I thought that a bad dream might have woken me up. But that wasn’t it. Something just wasn’t right. I felt as though someone was in the room staring at me. I looked around the room and was shocked to see what I now know to be a shadow person standing directly in front of my dresser. My room wasn’t totally dark, but the shadow man standing there was pitch black.
My dresser had a mirror attached to it, and the shadow figure blocked both the dresser and the mirror. It was very human looking. I would say it was somewhere between 5’ 7” and 6’ tall, seeing it was about the same height as a normal human male. Apart from the fact that it was completely black, there was nothing unusual about its appearance. It had a normal sized head, arms and legs. I didn’t see much of its feet, but wasn’t really paying attention. I was more concerned with what he might do with what he was holding in his hand — A knife about the size of a large kitchen knife. He was holding the knife in his right hand, and holding it down on his right side so that it was close to his thigh. The tip of the knife was pointed down toward the floor.
Obviously, I was very frightened to see this thing standing in my room in the middle of the night so I called for my mom. When she came into the room I became even more frightened because she didn’t seem to see this figure standing there. She walked right past it as if it wasn’t there at all! The dark figure never moved, even when she walked by it, which I found terribly scary at the time. Now that I’m older it makes me wonder why this thing stayed so still.
Seeing how frightened I was, my mom stayed in the room with me. All the while she was with me I never told her what I was seeing. I thought about it multiple times but never actually told her. First of all, I was so scared I couldn't even get words out of my mouth. And secondly, I thought that if I did tell her it might attack us in some form or another. Despite how young I was I could tell that it was VERY negative. Although I didn't understand it at the time, the way that it made me feel only caused me to be more afraid of it. As best I can remember, it took about an hour or an hour and a half for the shadow figure to go away. It either faded out into the air, or it ran out of the room - I can’t recall which.
My second sighting of a shadow figure happened after a night of Trick-or-Treating when I was 10 years old. I went to bed at the regular time that night, but after about 40 minutes of trying to sleep I got bored. I sat up in bed and looked around the room. This will sound really strange, and it was hard for me to accept at the time, but walking in the air toward me was the black shadow figure of a cat! I tried closing my eyes hoping that it would go away, but somehow I could still see it even with my eyes closed. After about 8 minutes of keeping my eyes shut and still seeing this cat I finally realized that keeping my eyes closed didn't matter, so opened them again and saw this shadow cat walking right towards my face. I watched it walking in the air toward me from about halfway from the foot of my bed to the middle of it before it finally disappeared. I remember being afraid that the shadow man would show up again, but thankfully he never did.
I recently asked my mother if she remembered that night I saw the shadow man, and she said that she did. How much she remembered I can't say, but she did remember coming in my room and staying with me for over an hour because I was so afraid of something.
Miss Gladys' Ghost
Many people grow attached to their homes and are reluctant to leave. Spirits are no different. They often just want to make sure that their former home is taken care of and that the place that they loved is cared for and respected.
The following true story was submitted by Tiffany from Saugerties, New York.
My experience happened back in 2009 when we bought our first home in Saugerties, New York. When we first looked at the house, it felt peaceful. The month before we moved in we did tons of renovations. A few weird things happened, but we didn't really pay much attention to them. One night when my 14 year old daughter and I were moving things into the house, I had to leave and make another trip and she stayed. When I returned, my daughter said, “Mom, why were you calling me and didn't answer when I said 'yeah'?” I said, “I didn't call you - I wasn't even here!” A while later I had to leave again, and same thing happened!
The next thing that happened was that my husband was working on the basement door and my father-in-law and I were there helping. The work was not going smoothly because when you buy an older home you discover that things are not always even and level. There was just one previous owner before us, and he had built the house himself. So as my husband was working on the door he was cursing the former owner up and down for making such an uneven house. There was another door leaning on the wall next to my husband. All of a sudden, my father-in-law and I watched the door slowly move away from the wall, slammed down on my husband’s head, and then went right back into place! I couldn’t believe what we just saw!! I looked at my father-in-law, he looked at me and we both said, "Did you just see that?" He said, “I don't believe in ghosts, but I can't explain that!” My husband was pissed, but we couldn’t help but laugh! I said, “That's what you get for cursing the old homeowner and the work he was proud of!!” I don't care who you are but that is funny!!!
After we moved in I always got a weird vibe over by the stairs leading into a hallway to the bedrooms. Nothing mean, just a presence. And only in that one spot I would get the chills or my hair would stand up on my arms.
My neighbor is a cop and I went over to get some history of the house, as he has lived next-door his whole life and knew the former owners. I told him what my realtor had told me; that the husband had died a long time ago and the wife, Gladys, went into a nursing home and passed away there. I told him that I didn't think that was a true story. He asked, “Why don't you believe that?” I told him about our experiences and also told him about the spot on the stairs where I felt uneasy. He said, “Are you sure you want to hear the truth?” I said, “I know that you know something that I don't, so explain.” He told me that Gladys had a heart attack and that he and her landscaper found her body two days later -- right in front on the stairs to that hallway!! I was like ‘My God! I'm sensing her presence!!’ Why didn't the realtor tell me that?? I was shocked, and a bit afraid. But apart from the strange feeling by the stairs, the house felt peaceful.
I told my husband and my daughter what our neighbor had shared with me, and things finally started to make sense!! Gladys was the one who called my daughter’s name, and my husband spoke badly of her husband so she hit him with the door!! (Still so funny!)
Another strange thing happened. We bought a new computer printer and every night the printer would turn on and shut off all by itself! So we would just say, “Hello Gladys! Hope you’re having a nice evening!!” One night I said, “OK I'm unplugging the printer!” Well that didn't stop her! She just kept turning it on and off same time every night! Even unplugged, the printer still made the loud noise of it turning on as if it was getting ready to print out something!! It was cool at first, but we finally decided to get rid of the printer.
Our cat used to pick her head up, her ears would perk up and it looked like she was watching something walk by. Her head turn as if she were following something with her eyes, then she would look at me and just lay down!
About a year ago I stopped feeling Gladys’ presence in the house and since then nothing else has happened. I'm not sure if it's because my husband got a day job and Glady's felt that she didn't need to be with my daughter and me at night. Or maybe she is happy about the improvements we’ve made to the house. I kind of miss her. She actually made me feel safe when my husband worked overnights! I felt like she was our guardian angel.
Many people grow attached to their homes and are reluctant to leave. Spirits are no different. They often just want to make sure that their former home is taken care of and that the place that they loved is cared for and respected.
The following true story was submitted by Tiffany from Saugerties, New York.
My experience happened back in 2009 when we bought our first home in Saugerties, New York. When we first looked at the house, it felt peaceful. The month before we moved in we did tons of renovations. A few weird things happened, but we didn't really pay much attention to them. One night when my 14 year old daughter and I were moving things into the house, I had to leave and make another trip and she stayed. When I returned, my daughter said, “Mom, why were you calling me and didn't answer when I said 'yeah'?” I said, “I didn't call you - I wasn't even here!” A while later I had to leave again, and same thing happened!
The next thing that happened was that my husband was working on the basement door and my father-in-law and I were there helping. The work was not going smoothly because when you buy an older home you discover that things are not always even and level. There was just one previous owner before us, and he had built the house himself. So as my husband was working on the door he was cursing the former owner up and down for making such an uneven house. There was another door leaning on the wall next to my husband. All of a sudden, my father-in-law and I watched the door slowly move away from the wall, slammed down on my husband’s head, and then went right back into place! I couldn’t believe what we just saw!! I looked at my father-in-law, he looked at me and we both said, "Did you just see that?" He said, “I don't believe in ghosts, but I can't explain that!” My husband was pissed, but we couldn’t help but laugh! I said, “That's what you get for cursing the old homeowner and the work he was proud of!!” I don't care who you are but that is funny!!!
After we moved in I always got a weird vibe over by the stairs leading into a hallway to the bedrooms. Nothing mean, just a presence. And only in that one spot I would get the chills or my hair would stand up on my arms.
My neighbor is a cop and I went over to get some history of the house, as he has lived next-door his whole life and knew the former owners. I told him what my realtor had told me; that the husband had died a long time ago and the wife, Gladys, went into a nursing home and passed away there. I told him that I didn't think that was a true story. He asked, “Why don't you believe that?” I told him about our experiences and also told him about the spot on the stairs where I felt uneasy. He said, “Are you sure you want to hear the truth?” I said, “I know that you know something that I don't, so explain.” He told me that Gladys had a heart attack and that he and her landscaper found her body two days later -- right in front on the stairs to that hallway!! I was like ‘My God! I'm sensing her presence!!’ Why didn't the realtor tell me that?? I was shocked, and a bit afraid. But apart from the strange feeling by the stairs, the house felt peaceful.
I told my husband and my daughter what our neighbor had shared with me, and things finally started to make sense!! Gladys was the one who called my daughter’s name, and my husband spoke badly of her husband so she hit him with the door!! (Still so funny!)
Another strange thing happened. We bought a new computer printer and every night the printer would turn on and shut off all by itself! So we would just say, “Hello Gladys! Hope you’re having a nice evening!!” One night I said, “OK I'm unplugging the printer!” Well that didn't stop her! She just kept turning it on and off same time every night! Even unplugged, the printer still made the loud noise of it turning on as if it was getting ready to print out something!! It was cool at first, but we finally decided to get rid of the printer.
Our cat used to pick her head up, her ears would perk up and it looked like she was watching something walk by. Her head turn as if she were following something with her eyes, then she would look at me and just lay down!
About a year ago I stopped feeling Gladys’ presence in the house and since then nothing else has happened. I'm not sure if it's because my husband got a day job and Glady's felt that she didn't need to be with my daughter and me at night. Or maybe she is happy about the improvements we’ve made to the house. I kind of miss her. She actually made me feel safe when my husband worked overnights! I felt like she was our guardian angel.
The Native American Apparition
In East Canaan, Connecticut where this story takes place, the land was originally inhabited by Native Americans going back as far as 8000 years ago. The Mohicans, Schaghticokes, and Tunxis Indians were all inhabitants long before Europeans set foot on the land. But within just 50 years of the English settlement of Canaan, virtually all the Indians had fled, moving further north to Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Some believe that the spirits of the Native American people still inhabit the land in and around East Canaan. And some believe that they haunt those who now live in what was once their sacred territory.
The following true ghost story was submitted by Mario Gandolfo who currently lives in Carson City, Nevada.
Take a close look at the drawing at the top of the page. At 5 years old one winter's night, this is what I saw hovering at the foot of my bed about 3 feet in the air. It was in rural East Canaan Connecticut where I lived. When we bought our house in 1968, I was 4 years old. Supposedly, the house was built on or near an Indian burial ground.
When we first moved into the house we found in the cellar, propped up against the stone, wall a very old gravestone from the late 1600's. The last name engraved on the stone was SMITH. Way up in the back lot , 1/2 mile right smack in the middle of the cornfield was an old slate headstone the farmer always plowed around. I cannot remember the name name on the stone, but it was a woman. She was 18 years old and had died of small pox. This stone was also from the late 1600's. Every spring after the farmers would plow the corn lots up in the fields behind our house, my father would take me and we would search those fields for Indian arrow heads. Some years we would find a half-dozen, other years only one or two.
In 1969, a year after we had moved in, we were leveling the dirt out in the cellar, as we were going to lay a cement foundation. My father hit something in the dirt. It was the skeleton of a woman, and she was adorned with colorful beads. The coroner people came out and determined that the skeleton was very old and that it was that of a Native American woman. A few months after the discovery of the skeleton, the apparition appeared at the foot of my bed, just hovering about 3 feet off the ground. It did not do anything to me per say; it just hovered there with eye sockets all white ablaze, but I truly believe that it cursed me.
I lay there in my bed staring at this terrifying apparition for what was probably about 5 minutes, but what seemed an eternity. I finally mustered up the strength to let out a scream and my parents in the next bedroom came running in. As soon as they opened the door this thing just exploded into a million little shards of light and disappeared. My parents never saw it and although I never forgot it, I never saw it again. I won't get into it, but ever since that night my life has been riddled with accidents. More than a few have been life threatening. 1969 was also the year that my family and I saw a close up UFO from our driveway at this same house in East Canaan Connecticut.
In East Canaan, Connecticut where this story takes place, the land was originally inhabited by Native Americans going back as far as 8000 years ago. The Mohicans, Schaghticokes, and Tunxis Indians were all inhabitants long before Europeans set foot on the land. But within just 50 years of the English settlement of Canaan, virtually all the Indians had fled, moving further north to Stockbridge, Massachusetts. Some believe that the spirits of the Native American people still inhabit the land in and around East Canaan. And some believe that they haunt those who now live in what was once their sacred territory.
The following true ghost story was submitted by Mario Gandolfo who currently lives in Carson City, Nevada.
Take a close look at the drawing at the top of the page. At 5 years old one winter's night, this is what I saw hovering at the foot of my bed about 3 feet in the air. It was in rural East Canaan Connecticut where I lived. When we bought our house in 1968, I was 4 years old. Supposedly, the house was built on or near an Indian burial ground.
When we first moved into the house we found in the cellar, propped up against the stone, wall a very old gravestone from the late 1600's. The last name engraved on the stone was SMITH. Way up in the back lot , 1/2 mile right smack in the middle of the cornfield was an old slate headstone the farmer always plowed around. I cannot remember the name name on the stone, but it was a woman. She was 18 years old and had died of small pox. This stone was also from the late 1600's. Every spring after the farmers would plow the corn lots up in the fields behind our house, my father would take me and we would search those fields for Indian arrow heads. Some years we would find a half-dozen, other years only one or two.
In 1969, a year after we had moved in, we were leveling the dirt out in the cellar, as we were going to lay a cement foundation. My father hit something in the dirt. It was the skeleton of a woman, and she was adorned with colorful beads. The coroner people came out and determined that the skeleton was very old and that it was that of a Native American woman. A few months after the discovery of the skeleton, the apparition appeared at the foot of my bed, just hovering about 3 feet off the ground. It did not do anything to me per say; it just hovered there with eye sockets all white ablaze, but I truly believe that it cursed me.
I lay there in my bed staring at this terrifying apparition for what was probably about 5 minutes, but what seemed an eternity. I finally mustered up the strength to let out a scream and my parents in the next bedroom came running in. As soon as they opened the door this thing just exploded into a million little shards of light and disappeared. My parents never saw it and although I never forgot it, I never saw it again. I won't get into it, but ever since that night my life has been riddled with accidents. More than a few have been life threatening. 1969 was also the year that my family and I saw a close up UFO from our driveway at this same house in East Canaan Connecticut.
The Ghost on 66th Street
Apartments in New York city are in high demand and very hard to come by. But imagine getting the opportunity to live in an apartment in the prestigious Lincoln Center part of the city. A dream come true -- that is, until you realize that the apartment comes with the ghost of the former tenant.
The following true story was submitted by Sarah from Mamaroneck, New York.
Whilst at fashion college in the UK, three of my classmates and I were hired by an American company to move to New York when we graduated. We were to be put up in a large one bedroom apartment in the Lincoln Center area of New York City, which was owned by the CEO of the company.
Two of my colleagues moved into the apartment in the early summer while my friend and I arrived in September. As soon as we got there, our roommates were eager to tell us that they had taken the bedroom with new beds and that we would have to sleep in the living area. Furthermore, they told us the apartment was haunted and that one of us would have the bed and mattress that the guy who lived there before us had died in! Apparently his name was Egon, and he was a tormented artist who the CEO had sponsored and had put up in the apartment. Egon was in his 70's and had recently died of cancer.
We were skeptical at first about all of this information, but as we sorted out our belongings to put away, we found so many of Egon's belongings in the drawers and wardrobes. He had clearly been a disturbed individual, as there were pictures of elderly people having orgies and pornographic magazines that were more explicit than anything I had seen before. In the wardrobe was a walking frame, old hats and coats -- his presence was everywhere.
It is hard to describe, but we could feel his presence surrounding us the whole time we were in the apartment. I was unable to be there unless I had company. We would all comment that cold air would swirl around us when we walked around. Whenever I took a shower, I had the sensation that I was being watched and cold currents of air would skip around me. When we made tea or coffee, the liquid would look as if it was stirring itself. It was freaky, but because there were four of us experiencing the same thing, we would joke about it and call out his name,"Hey Egon what are you up to?"
We decided quite early on to start throwing out all his personal belongings that we did not want and which were taking up room. We gradually came to accept that he was there with us; that is until something happened that I will never forget.
I mentioned that there were four of us in a one bedroom apartment, but fortunately it was spacious and my friend and I had sectioned off part of the living area and put up a make shift curtain for privacy. One day I decided we needed to re-arrange the furniture and that we should separate our space from the dining area with an enormous old sideboard. It took all four of us to move this gigantic piece to about 4 feet from the end of our beds, and we were very happy with the new arrangement. However, I guess Egon wasn't. The next morning my friend and I woke up to this huge sideboard abutting the end of our beds! As I said this piece was impossible to move without the heft of all four of us, but it had somehow moved in the middle of the night without a sound, and without waking any of us. We were completely freaked out.
We stayed in the apartment for a year. I stayed on in New York and my friends moved back to the UK. The company I worked for sponsored another student from my college who was put up in the same apartment. From day one she also realized the place was haunted. I was friends with her and obviously felt bad that she was there alone. She was so disturbed to be there that she eventually got someone in to exorcise the space. I had not even realized that something like this was possible. I thought an exorcism was something that only happened in movies, but sure enough the next time I went over for dinner it was like night and day. The feel of the apartment was completely transformed and it was finally the spacious, sunny apartment that it always should have been and Egon was finally free.
Apartments in New York city are in high demand and very hard to come by. But imagine getting the opportunity to live in an apartment in the prestigious Lincoln Center part of the city. A dream come true -- that is, until you realize that the apartment comes with the ghost of the former tenant.
The following true story was submitted by Sarah from Mamaroneck, New York.
Whilst at fashion college in the UK, three of my classmates and I were hired by an American company to move to New York when we graduated. We were to be put up in a large one bedroom apartment in the Lincoln Center area of New York City, which was owned by the CEO of the company.
Two of my colleagues moved into the apartment in the early summer while my friend and I arrived in September. As soon as we got there, our roommates were eager to tell us that they had taken the bedroom with new beds and that we would have to sleep in the living area. Furthermore, they told us the apartment was haunted and that one of us would have the bed and mattress that the guy who lived there before us had died in! Apparently his name was Egon, and he was a tormented artist who the CEO had sponsored and had put up in the apartment. Egon was in his 70's and had recently died of cancer.
We were skeptical at first about all of this information, but as we sorted out our belongings to put away, we found so many of Egon's belongings in the drawers and wardrobes. He had clearly been a disturbed individual, as there were pictures of elderly people having orgies and pornographic magazines that were more explicit than anything I had seen before. In the wardrobe was a walking frame, old hats and coats -- his presence was everywhere.
It is hard to describe, but we could feel his presence surrounding us the whole time we were in the apartment. I was unable to be there unless I had company. We would all comment that cold air would swirl around us when we walked around. Whenever I took a shower, I had the sensation that I was being watched and cold currents of air would skip around me. When we made tea or coffee, the liquid would look as if it was stirring itself. It was freaky, but because there were four of us experiencing the same thing, we would joke about it and call out his name,"Hey Egon what are you up to?"
We decided quite early on to start throwing out all his personal belongings that we did not want and which were taking up room. We gradually came to accept that he was there with us; that is until something happened that I will never forget.
I mentioned that there were four of us in a one bedroom apartment, but fortunately it was spacious and my friend and I had sectioned off part of the living area and put up a make shift curtain for privacy. One day I decided we needed to re-arrange the furniture and that we should separate our space from the dining area with an enormous old sideboard. It took all four of us to move this gigantic piece to about 4 feet from the end of our beds, and we were very happy with the new arrangement. However, I guess Egon wasn't. The next morning my friend and I woke up to this huge sideboard abutting the end of our beds! As I said this piece was impossible to move without the heft of all four of us, but it had somehow moved in the middle of the night without a sound, and without waking any of us. We were completely freaked out.
We stayed in the apartment for a year. I stayed on in New York and my friends moved back to the UK. The company I worked for sponsored another student from my college who was put up in the same apartment. From day one she also realized the place was haunted. I was friends with her and obviously felt bad that she was there alone. She was so disturbed to be there that she eventually got someone in to exorcise the space. I had not even realized that something like this was possible. I thought an exorcism was something that only happened in movies, but sure enough the next time I went over for dinner it was like night and day. The feel of the apartment was completely transformed and it was finally the spacious, sunny apartment that it always should have been and Egon was finally free.
Grandma Still Lives Here
"If nothing is going well, call your grandmother." – Italian Proverb
~~~
"A house needs a grandma in it." – Louisa May Alcott"
"According to Dr. Karl Pillemer of Cornell University, the relations between grandparents and their grandchildren is second in emotional importance only to the relations between parent and child."1 If one accepts that life continues after physical death then it should be no surprise that our grandparents continue to look after us, even after death. The following story submitted by Kaylee from Upstate, New York, is a poignant reminder of the timeless bond we have with our grandparents.
My sisters and I grew up spending our summers in our family’s old farmhouse in Upstate, New York. The house was built sometime in the mid 1700’s. My paternal grandfather purchased the house in the year 1919 along with 100 acres of farmland. My grandfather and grandmother, Sarah, retired there in the early 1950s. My grandmother passed away soon after of a stroke in the kitchen. Years later I moved into the house and lived there for several years with my then husband and with my daughter.
Though I never met my grandmother, there were many stories that were told to me about her over the years. How she adored children and her interest in poetry. She apparently also had some interest in the paranormal, as was evident by a few books on the subject I remember seeing on her bookshelves.
Grandma Sarah apparently had a few brushes with the paranormal herself over the years. There was a strange story I had heard about how something Sarah described as a ‘fireball’ had once come through the kitchen door, and how she somehow swept it out the front door! I don’t even know if such a thing is possible, but it was a weird story that I always remembered the family telling.
I recently visited my sister Elise and asked her about her encounter with Sarah’s spirit. She related the story that when she was a little girl, our dad was up in the attic doing some work. The entrance to the attic was just a rectangular hole in the ceiling that was covered by a piece of wood. To access the attic, you needed a ladder and would just push aside the slab of wood. I’m not sure why, but for some reason this piece of wood had dozens of sharp nails sticking out of it. The nails were on the upside of the wood and would normally face into the attic, but while dad was working there the piece of wood with the nails was faced down, and it was precariously perched on the edge of the opening. Elise was standing right below it when it started to fall. She said my dad yelled for her to run into a room to get out of the way but she couldn’t get there fast enough. But instead of falling on my sister, the wood slab just stopped in mid-air and then went back to the edge of the attic opening. Elise is convinced that it was grandma Sarah’s spirit who saved her life that day.
My own personal experience with my grandmother’s spirit involved her saving my daughter’s life. Isabella was young; maybe 2 or 3 years old, and was sitting on the couch in the living room directly beneath an old mirror. It was an antique mirror with a rounded fisheye type glass surrounded by a heavy, intricately carved gilded frame. It must have weighed nearly 80 lbs. I left the room briefly, and when I came back into the living room the mirror was sitting upright on the couch beside my daughter! Had it fallen directly beneath where it was hanging it would have landed on my daughter and surely killed her; but instead it looked almost as if someone had placed it gently next to her.
As I’m writing this, my daughter just came home and reminded me to write about the encounter she had in the kitchen. When she was around 7 years old she walked into the kitchen and there was a woman there who was walking around and touching all the hanging cast iron pans. She said she looked like a regular person, and Isabella went to find me to ask who she was. I quickly went into the kitchen to investigate, but the woman was gone.
Ironically the cast iron pans are part of another story from years before Isabella was born. One time, when I was living alone in the house, I was sitting in the living room and heard a noise in the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen and found that one of the big cast iron frying pans that had been hanging on a hook on the wall was now lying in the middle of the kitchen floor! It was lying quite a distance from where it had been hanging, and couldn’t have fallen and landed in that spot. It looked as if it had been placed there.
Earlier that same week, something else unusual happened -- I heard someone calling my name. My dog heard it too. He got up and ran around looking for the voice. It was a gravelly smoker’s voice and sounded like my aunt or maybe my sister Elise. I heard the voice say “Kaylee”, then more loudly and urgent “KAYLEE!"
The house was sold earlier this year, and as I went back there to take one last look I could see that little had changed since the time my grandparents lived there. All of the furniture, the wallpaper, the books on the book shelves, the blankets, the rugs -- even the dishes were the same ones that my grandparents had dined on. I have no doubt that my grandmother’s spirit was there right up to the time the house was sold. My sister was executor of the estate and asked me to wait at the house for the oil company. The furnace had quit and I needed to be there to let the repairman in. There wasn’t much to do while I waited, so I thought I’d try to contact grandma Sarah. I said out loud, “Sarah, if you know I’m here please let me know.” I know this sounds cliché but the only lamp that was turned on suddenly went out just as I asked Sarah for a sign. I inspected the lamp, and the bulb was loose but what a coincidence! That was the last day I was in the family home.
When I left the home for the last time, I invited Sarah to come with me, but sadly I have no evidence that she did. I hear there are lots of renovations going on in the house these days. I hope they appreciate Sarah as much as my family did. For some reason, it seems insulting to call her a ghost. She’s my grandma Sarah, and always will be just that.
"If nothing is going well, call your grandmother." – Italian Proverb
~~~
"A house needs a grandma in it." – Louisa May Alcott"
"According to Dr. Karl Pillemer of Cornell University, the relations between grandparents and their grandchildren is second in emotional importance only to the relations between parent and child."1 If one accepts that life continues after physical death then it should be no surprise that our grandparents continue to look after us, even after death. The following story submitted by Kaylee from Upstate, New York, is a poignant reminder of the timeless bond we have with our grandparents.
My sisters and I grew up spending our summers in our family’s old farmhouse in Upstate, New York. The house was built sometime in the mid 1700’s. My paternal grandfather purchased the house in the year 1919 along with 100 acres of farmland. My grandfather and grandmother, Sarah, retired there in the early 1950s. My grandmother passed away soon after of a stroke in the kitchen. Years later I moved into the house and lived there for several years with my then husband and with my daughter.
Though I never met my grandmother, there were many stories that were told to me about her over the years. How she adored children and her interest in poetry. She apparently also had some interest in the paranormal, as was evident by a few books on the subject I remember seeing on her bookshelves.
Grandma Sarah apparently had a few brushes with the paranormal herself over the years. There was a strange story I had heard about how something Sarah described as a ‘fireball’ had once come through the kitchen door, and how she somehow swept it out the front door! I don’t even know if such a thing is possible, but it was a weird story that I always remembered the family telling.
I recently visited my sister Elise and asked her about her encounter with Sarah’s spirit. She related the story that when she was a little girl, our dad was up in the attic doing some work. The entrance to the attic was just a rectangular hole in the ceiling that was covered by a piece of wood. To access the attic, you needed a ladder and would just push aside the slab of wood. I’m not sure why, but for some reason this piece of wood had dozens of sharp nails sticking out of it. The nails were on the upside of the wood and would normally face into the attic, but while dad was working there the piece of wood with the nails was faced down, and it was precariously perched on the edge of the opening. Elise was standing right below it when it started to fall. She said my dad yelled for her to run into a room to get out of the way but she couldn’t get there fast enough. But instead of falling on my sister, the wood slab just stopped in mid-air and then went back to the edge of the attic opening. Elise is convinced that it was grandma Sarah’s spirit who saved her life that day.
My own personal experience with my grandmother’s spirit involved her saving my daughter’s life. Isabella was young; maybe 2 or 3 years old, and was sitting on the couch in the living room directly beneath an old mirror. It was an antique mirror with a rounded fisheye type glass surrounded by a heavy, intricately carved gilded frame. It must have weighed nearly 80 lbs. I left the room briefly, and when I came back into the living room the mirror was sitting upright on the couch beside my daughter! Had it fallen directly beneath where it was hanging it would have landed on my daughter and surely killed her; but instead it looked almost as if someone had placed it gently next to her.
As I’m writing this, my daughter just came home and reminded me to write about the encounter she had in the kitchen. When she was around 7 years old she walked into the kitchen and there was a woman there who was walking around and touching all the hanging cast iron pans. She said she looked like a regular person, and Isabella went to find me to ask who she was. I quickly went into the kitchen to investigate, but the woman was gone.
Ironically the cast iron pans are part of another story from years before Isabella was born. One time, when I was living alone in the house, I was sitting in the living room and heard a noise in the kitchen. I walked into the kitchen and found that one of the big cast iron frying pans that had been hanging on a hook on the wall was now lying in the middle of the kitchen floor! It was lying quite a distance from where it had been hanging, and couldn’t have fallen and landed in that spot. It looked as if it had been placed there.
Earlier that same week, something else unusual happened -- I heard someone calling my name. My dog heard it too. He got up and ran around looking for the voice. It was a gravelly smoker’s voice and sounded like my aunt or maybe my sister Elise. I heard the voice say “Kaylee”, then more loudly and urgent “KAYLEE!"
The house was sold earlier this year, and as I went back there to take one last look I could see that little had changed since the time my grandparents lived there. All of the furniture, the wallpaper, the books on the book shelves, the blankets, the rugs -- even the dishes were the same ones that my grandparents had dined on. I have no doubt that my grandmother’s spirit was there right up to the time the house was sold. My sister was executor of the estate and asked me to wait at the house for the oil company. The furnace had quit and I needed to be there to let the repairman in. There wasn’t much to do while I waited, so I thought I’d try to contact grandma Sarah. I said out loud, “Sarah, if you know I’m here please let me know.” I know this sounds cliché but the only lamp that was turned on suddenly went out just as I asked Sarah for a sign. I inspected the lamp, and the bulb was loose but what a coincidence! That was the last day I was in the family home.
When I left the home for the last time, I invited Sarah to come with me, but sadly I have no evidence that she did. I hear there are lots of renovations going on in the house these days. I hope they appreciate Sarah as much as my family did. For some reason, it seems insulting to call her a ghost. She’s my grandma Sarah, and always will be just that.
We Were Here First
"The past is never where you think you left it." K.A Porter
Some people find ghost stories to be chilling, scary, or even terrifying. I just think that they're fascinating. Think about it, when someone sees a ghost, aren't they really seeing a piece of the past intruding upon the present? This following set of three ghostly tales was submitted by P.D. from Winnipeg, Canada, and it shows just how many faces the past can have when it comes to visit.
At the time that this story took place I was living with my family in Winnipeg, the capital of the Canadian province of Manitoba. We had just bought a new house right behind the one we had been living in for several years, so the move from the old house to the new one was easy since all we had to do was walk across the yard. One day I decided to bring the linens over to the new house so I could put them away. The kids were with their dad in the old house, so I was happy to have some time to myself to start getting things organized. The linen closet was on the second floor so I went upstairs, opened the closet, and pulled a chair over so I could put the linens on the top shelves. As I was standing on the chair putting away the linens I sensed someone behind me. I turned to see who it was and standing right there in the hallway was a man and a little girl. They were holding hands and were dressed in Pioneer era clothing. The man had long-to-the-neck scruffy hair and a beard. He was dressed in drab, dark pants, and was wearing a shirt and vest. The little girl looked to be about 5 years old. She had a dress on, but it was old and dirty looking. They didn’t move. They just looked at me. The whole time this was happening I knew I was seeing something amazing, so I deliberately didn’t blink because I didn’t want to miss anything. As they stood there looking at me I heard the man say, “We were here first.” I continued to stare at them without blinking and saw them both just dissolve in front of my eyes. The whole time I didn’t feel afraid, and the message I got was not frightening. He was just letting me know that he and his little girl were there first.
Once we were moved and settled into the new house, other things happened. One day I walked into the bedroom and I saw the rocking chair rocking back and forth by itself. The cats and the kids were nowhere near the chair. It was rocking at about the speed you would rock a baby in. I called my daughter and my 12-year-old niece up from the living room to show them what was happening. My niece, who was staying with us that week, was so frightened of the sight of the rocking chair moving by itself that she never came to my house again. We lived in the house for 18 years, and she never came back even once. It scared her that much.
One night I woke to see a girl standing next to my bed. I thought it was my daughter because it was common for her to come into our room at night. But as I looked closely I saw that it was not my daughter -- it was the pioneer girl I'd seen months before! As soon as I realized it wasn’t my daughter, the little girl vanished. She didn’t fade out the way she did before, she just suddenly wasn’t there anymore.
Fast forward thirteen years, I awoke one night with a start hearing my 15-year-old son screaming for me. I ran to his room. He was in bed still screaming and said, "Didn't you see them? You ran right through them!" He told me that six men in black hooded cloaks carrying sickles had slowly walked in his room, one by one. He said that their faces were concealed by the cloaks and hoods. When I came in the room, he said that I walked right through them. My son talked about this experience for years after.
When my husband and I first moved in, we had been happily married for ten years. Then everything fell apart in our dream home. My husband became an angry, violent alcoholic. This lead to years of physical and emotional abuse. Things got so bad that the police were called several times, and he was arrested for attacking me. After a restraining order and more acts of violence, we finally divorced. My husband is no longer alive. He committed suicide several years ago.
So many acts of violence had occurred in that house that I contacted a Roman Catholic priest to do a blessing. I’m not even Catholic, but I felt that evil was in that house. Two priests stopped by and blessed the house and the four children. As they walked through the house I remember them saying, “Be out bad spirits”. After the blessing, the house felt better.
I’m convinced that there was something evil in that house that contributed to my husband’s violent and abusive behavior. I can’t explain the strange experience that my family and I experienced while we were living there, but all those bad things are behind me now and my life is wonderful.
"The past is never where you think you left it." K.A Porter
Some people find ghost stories to be chilling, scary, or even terrifying. I just think that they're fascinating. Think about it, when someone sees a ghost, aren't they really seeing a piece of the past intruding upon the present? This following set of three ghostly tales was submitted by P.D. from Winnipeg, Canada, and it shows just how many faces the past can have when it comes to visit.
At the time that this story took place I was living with my family in Winnipeg, the capital of the Canadian province of Manitoba. We had just bought a new house right behind the one we had been living in for several years, so the move from the old house to the new one was easy since all we had to do was walk across the yard. One day I decided to bring the linens over to the new house so I could put them away. The kids were with their dad in the old house, so I was happy to have some time to myself to start getting things organized. The linen closet was on the second floor so I went upstairs, opened the closet, and pulled a chair over so I could put the linens on the top shelves. As I was standing on the chair putting away the linens I sensed someone behind me. I turned to see who it was and standing right there in the hallway was a man and a little girl. They were holding hands and were dressed in Pioneer era clothing. The man had long-to-the-neck scruffy hair and a beard. He was dressed in drab, dark pants, and was wearing a shirt and vest. The little girl looked to be about 5 years old. She had a dress on, but it was old and dirty looking. They didn’t move. They just looked at me. The whole time this was happening I knew I was seeing something amazing, so I deliberately didn’t blink because I didn’t want to miss anything. As they stood there looking at me I heard the man say, “We were here first.” I continued to stare at them without blinking and saw them both just dissolve in front of my eyes. The whole time I didn’t feel afraid, and the message I got was not frightening. He was just letting me know that he and his little girl were there first.
Once we were moved and settled into the new house, other things happened. One day I walked into the bedroom and I saw the rocking chair rocking back and forth by itself. The cats and the kids were nowhere near the chair. It was rocking at about the speed you would rock a baby in. I called my daughter and my 12-year-old niece up from the living room to show them what was happening. My niece, who was staying with us that week, was so frightened of the sight of the rocking chair moving by itself that she never came to my house again. We lived in the house for 18 years, and she never came back even once. It scared her that much.
One night I woke to see a girl standing next to my bed. I thought it was my daughter because it was common for her to come into our room at night. But as I looked closely I saw that it was not my daughter -- it was the pioneer girl I'd seen months before! As soon as I realized it wasn’t my daughter, the little girl vanished. She didn’t fade out the way she did before, she just suddenly wasn’t there anymore.
Fast forward thirteen years, I awoke one night with a start hearing my 15-year-old son screaming for me. I ran to his room. He was in bed still screaming and said, "Didn't you see them? You ran right through them!" He told me that six men in black hooded cloaks carrying sickles had slowly walked in his room, one by one. He said that their faces were concealed by the cloaks and hoods. When I came in the room, he said that I walked right through them. My son talked about this experience for years after.
When my husband and I first moved in, we had been happily married for ten years. Then everything fell apart in our dream home. My husband became an angry, violent alcoholic. This lead to years of physical and emotional abuse. Things got so bad that the police were called several times, and he was arrested for attacking me. After a restraining order and more acts of violence, we finally divorced. My husband is no longer alive. He committed suicide several years ago.
So many acts of violence had occurred in that house that I contacted a Roman Catholic priest to do a blessing. I’m not even Catholic, but I felt that evil was in that house. Two priests stopped by and blessed the house and the four children. As they walked through the house I remember them saying, “Be out bad spirits”. After the blessing, the house felt better.
I’m convinced that there was something evil in that house that contributed to my husband’s violent and abusive behavior. I can’t explain the strange experience that my family and I experienced while we were living there, but all those bad things are behind me now and my life is wonderful.