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Saturday, October 23, 2010

Ghost Story #3


Our first home was a simple 1960's ranch. Just a normal house.  No one had ever died in it (as far as I knew) and no tragedies had ever occurred there.

We had just moved in, and rather than pay a couple hundred bucks to a locksmith, I just bought all-new doorknobs and figured I could install them no problem.  The instructions were easy enough but there was one piece I could NOT get on.  I kept dropping it.  Like dozens of times in a row.  It was beyond ridiculous.  Frustrated and angry, I called out to my dad to help.  

Dad had passed away some 3 years before, but he was the handiest guy I knew.  He was a carpenter by trade and made some beautiful things; but he could do anything--including install a stinkin' door knob.  I asked him to help me.  

No sooner were the words out of my mouth, than I saw the problem.  The piece I'd put on in the previous step I'd done backwards.  If I had managed to fasten the next piece I kept dropping, the door knob wouldn't have worked and I probably never would have found the problem.  I turned the part around and the rest was smooth sailing.  I didn't drop anything else the rest of the day.

You can say what you want, but I think Dad was with me the whole time and was knocking that piece out of my hand to get my attention.

Almost immediately, we started hearing voices in the house.  We didn't jump to ghostly conclusions, though.  We assumed it was the neighbors.  The weather was still nice, we slept with the windows cracked open most of the time.  The voices were indistinct - like a radio in another room.  You can hear it, but you can't understand anything that's being said.

Then we heard the voices at 3 a.m. on a night when it was 20 degrees below zero, and snowing and blowing like crazy.  No way was there anyone outside at that time of night in that kind of weather.  

We also heard a baby crying a lot - but no one around us had a baby and even if they did, were we likely to hear them with the windows shut in the dead of winter?

One night, my husband and I were asleep and woke up when a child yelled, "Daddy!"  We jumped out of bed and dashed across the hall to our daughter's room only to remember she was at my mom's house 90 miles away.

Whenever my husband would nap on the couch, a woman would come along and wake him up.  He's not much of a believer (at least he wasn't then.  I think I've converted him), so he always kind of chalked it up to dreams.

Another day, I was in the basement doing laundry.  I was home alone.  All of a sudden I heard footsteps upstairs.  We heard footsteps all the time, it wasn't a big deal...but these were so loud and distinct, I was sure my husband had come back with my daughter.  I ran upstairs and there was no one there.  My mom hated my basement for this very reason.

More on this house tomorrow...


9 comments:

Yaya' s Home said...

Ooooh! That was mean; you stopped in the middle of the story. haha. I'll be back tomorrow to hear the rest of the story.

~ Yaya

Jolene Perry said...

Wow. Good one.

Talei said...

Ye gawds! This is scary!! I need to know who the ghost/s are? And I'm not a fan of basements and cellars - they give me the heebeegeebees!!

Carole Anne Carr said...

Fascinating read, Vicki.

aspiring_x said...

jeepers creepers! i would be SO OUTA THERE! :)

Little Ms J said...

Good lord. I have goosebumps. I would've moved out right away!

Carole Anne Carr said...

Hi Vicki,
What with problems with invalid husband, my cover illustration, and the editing, it looks as though I shan't have Thin Time or The Task Bearer - have decided on the former title - published before well into the new year and wondered if you would like me to send you a copy of one of my other books instead. Sincere apologies for the delay. Kind regards, Carole.

Mason Canyon said...

OH, MY .... I don't think I should have read this, this late at night when I'm by myself. Okay, I'm off to turn on all the lights in the house and turn up the TV. LOL

BTW, I agree - your Dad was there.

Mason
Thoughts in Progress

Sharon K. Mayhew said...

Note to self...Do not go to Vicki's house...